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cheyisagirlkisser · 3 days ago

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"She Gets the Job Done!"

Cowgirl Ellie x Fem! Reader

Content: Cowgirl Ellie, Fem! country reader, Ellie is western type of cowgirl, reader is southern, badly written accents(guys I am southern but idk how to write a western accent), smut, clit rubbing(r! recieving), scissoring, making out, biting, some implied homophobia, reader is written as a lesbian, modern AU, reader has female anatomy, very loosely based off of Chappell Roan's unreleased song.

Word Count: 2.4k

Resource Credits: Here and Here!

Description: You're a true southern girl who is fed up with these country boys who just can't please you. What you really need is a woman, but that's kind of hard to seek out in a small southern town. When Ellie Williams moves into your town along with Joel Miller, she ends up working at the farm nearby, and you really want her. It's true: only a woman knows how to treat a woman right.

Wow, you really hated living in the south sometimes. You mostly loved the summer heat complimentary with trips to the creek on the weekends. You always loved going to rodeos where you obsessed over the dandies. You loved southern food, the nature, the farms and the small town life.

What you didn't love was the men.

You were always a romantic at heart, reading steamy western novels with a flashlight under your blankets at the age of 14 or writing love letters you'd never send to cowboys in town. However, as you grew up into a woman, you realized you'd slowly started replacing the men with cowgirls. You spent your nights wondering what it'd be like to be actually satisfied in a relationship. You grew up in a traditional-minded town, so you tried to push down those desires. You had a couple boyfriends, but men just weren't it for you. They were too rough, too awkward with you in bed, too greedy. None of them knew how to please a woman, at least not a woman like you. After a while, you gave up on the dream cowgirl you had in mind. The novels became difficult to pick up once you began to believe you'd never get the chance to experience real passion or real pleasure. That was what you'd felt like, at least until Ellie moved into your town.

Ellie Williams wasn't much for the south. She was a western girl at heart, adorned with thick leather boots and messy auburn hair. You'd seen cowgirls before, so that wasn't what surprised you. You just felt a calling to her, you adored her from her freckles that faded out in the sun to her messy hair that had a tint of red when light hit it in the right way. She was strong, that was for sure. Her biceps looked so firm, like they could handle if you sank your teeth down into them. She wasn't an extremely strong-looking girl, but that only enticed you more. Her eyes told a lot about her, said she wasn't looking for anything funny, but you wondered if she was silly under all the bravado.

She moved from the west side of the states with Joel Miller, who wasn't a wealthy man by any means, but grew up in your home town. At first, you couldn't tell if Ellie and Joel were related or not. Joel was more friendly, talked to older folks in town, but Ellie often kept to herself. She'd spend most of her time helping out with the farm next to your father's. It was when you were walking to the farmer's market that you noticed her for the very first time.

Your father was a nice man, well known in town. You were living with him until you had enough money to afford your own small place. He owned a farm and wasn't the most rich man, but he made ends meet. Today was a nice day, which mean he unfortunately encouraged you to walk to the local farmer's market instead of stealing his truck for the errand. Of course, you kept your complaints to yourself. Your dad was a sweet old man, and you should've been thanking him anyways, cause you met the most gorgeous girl the world had to offer.

Poor Ellie was too busy herding in sheep to notice your stare, to even notice you pass the road. It only made you more intrigued, that she was such a hard worker.

After that day, you'd always look out for her presence. You avoided using your dad's truck when you needed to run errands, saying it would be a quick walk. You just liked being able to pass by her as she worked on the farm, get the extra few seconds to admire her. You really felt like a creep, but this was the first time you really felt such adoration for a person. Such attraction.

The first time you spoke to her, she was driving Joel's truck down the dirt road after she had finished up with your neighbor's farm. You at the time were walking, coming home from the market with a bag of peaches for a peach cobbler. Ellie noticed you, and that was really when the two of you clicked.

She was used to pretty girls, the west and south had no shortage of them. However, you were perfection for the cowgirl. You wore a cutesy pair of overalls and a pink t-shirt underneath, and Ellie had a soft spot for feminine girls. She came to a slow stop on the dusty road, putting the transmission in park.

"Hey, you! Need a ride?" She shouted with a smile plastered on her face. Your heart melted. You'd expected her to be more serious or smug, but she seemed almost nervous. It was only making your heart beat faster.

"I only live next to this farm, it's really no problem." You assured, though you really hoped she'd push the matter. Thankfully, she did.

"Really, Joel would kill me if he found out I let you walk home. It's getting late."

You, an utterly hopeless lesbian, couldn't resist. You said fuck it and let her reach over to open the passenger door for you, and your boots reached up into the truck to plop down into the passenger seat. You placed the brown paper bag of peaches in your lap and gave her a quick thanks as she began driving. Small talk felt more like two old friends hitting it off, and you liked her accent. It made you a tad more comfortable.

The two of you grew really close after that day. She'd be in the local rodeos and you looked forward to the sleepovers that came after. A few months of friendship helped you get to know her in a way that you could confidently call her your best friend. You still liked her though, feelings only growing the more the two of you bonded. You noticed that while she was a bit shy, she came out of her shell when she was around people she knew. She was quite sarcastic to Joel, and you loved the way she made fun of you at times. It made your heart flutter, and you imagined she was saying the opposite of whatever insult she had created for you.

Ellie wasn't much like what you'd imagined, and you partially felt bad for the feelings harbored away for her. She was a cowgirl who loved horses, sure. But she shared some private interests with you that shouldn't have made you want her more, but it did. One night, Ellie and you were sitting outside in her cow field, a blanket laid out beneath the two of you. She turned to you with a genuine smile, the warm look that she only gave very few people, and spoke in a quiet voice.

"You know, I've always wanted to go to space."

You turned to face her with slightly raised eyebrows. "Really? You? In Space?" You couldn't help the surprise in your tone.

She laughed softly at your expression. "Yes, dumbass. I used to listen to the first moon landing recording on repeat. Somethin' about it was really magical, ya know?"

You couldn't help but melt a little at her confession. The thought of Ellie being obsessed with astronauts was really endearing. But you couldn't stop the teasing, either.

"Is that why you have those nerdy space comics on your shelf? You told me those were Joel's!"

Ellie scoffed and swatted your arm playfully, but her hand lingered on your skin. "That's a topic for another time. Be grateful I share my secrets with ya."

You felt the warmth of her fingers, the way they softly traced patterns on your bare arm. Right then and there, you suddenly needed to risk it all.

"Ellie...I..I really need to tell you something." You sounded shaky and uncertain, but you needed to get your feelings out, even if it meant facing a possible rejection. This girl was too perfect to let get away.

"Yeah, what's up?" She sounded curious, unaware. That made you feel uneasy.

"I just..well, when I first saw you, I thought of you as a completely different person. And I really liked you. I liked you in a romantic way. I got to know you, though. The thing is, I think I like you even more. And I'm so sorry if you-" You were suddenly cut off when her plush lips met yours.

You were shocked, but quickly kissed her back, hands grasping at her everywhere, pulling her to lay on her side so you could tangle your legs with hers. It felt so nice to be kissing her. She tasted like fruit and smelled even better, and her tongue felt hypnotizing against yours. It made you crave much more.

Soon, you were rolled onto your back so the cowgirl could lay on top of you. Her hands were trailing from your sides to your stomach, her hand pausing above your shirt, her eyes meeting yours to search for any hesitation. When you nodded, her hands slid up your shirt to massage your tits through the fabric of your cotton bra. You let out a quiet whine, the feeling of her weight pressed on your body, and she leaned in to press her lips against your neck. In response, you tilted your head back, desperately craving more of her. You could feel the shakiness of her breath, and it reminded you that she was just as nervous as you were.

"Do you wanna keep going?" She asked, and you really noticed how different her tone was from when she was usually speaking to people. One of her hands trailed down the button of your jeans, and she didn't continue until you nodded.

Her hand quickly unzipped your jeans, her eyes meeting yours. She thought you were just too beautiful, looking up at her with wide eyes. She adored you. Her fingers slipped into your panties, and she let out a little "fuck" when she felt the damp patch in your panties. You laughed with a tinge of embarrassment.

"Please, Ellie." You sounded so desperate, Ellie quickly leaned up to plant a kiss on your lips. This one was much more confident, more sloppy and hungry than the first. She took your tongue into her mouth, giving it a hard suck which made you buck up into her hand, trying to get her to just fuck you.

"Patience, mkay?" She said softly as she pulled away, a shaky exhale leaving her mouth at the sight of the string of saliva the kiss had pulled from the two of you.

You nodded even though you weren't the most patient person. Ellie kept you at bay by rubbing at your clit with the pad of her finger, swirling moisture around the soft bud. You made one of the most heavenly sounds Ellie had ever heard, your eyes fluttering shut as she touched you. For the first time, someone actually focused on you. She struggled to pull your shirt off with just hand but you helped her out and soon, your bra was quickly unclasped. Ellie continued to rub at your clit as much as she could through your jeans, but she eventually gave up and pulled her hand out of your jeans, eliciting a cute whine from you.

"Off, please?" She requested, her voice so sweet and yet so demanding. Now that she knew you wanted her, she wasn't playing around. You nodded eagerly and lifted your hips as much as possible to pull your jeans and panties over your hips. Soon, you were left naked on the blanket. Ellie sat up to strip off her own clothes and you admired the sight.

Something about watching the girl strip, her pale skin coming into view in contrast to the stars above the two of you, it was perfection. Her body was slim and she was lean but had muscle on her. There they were, those perfect biceps..you couldn't help but sit up with her to plant kisses on them which soon turned into hungry little bites.

She let out a shaky laugh at your biting and joked with you, even in the heat of the moment. "You're gonna take a bite outta my arm, jesus."

You ignored her teasing and instead moved your lips to her pointy tits, smiling slightly as she shuddered. You found her weak spots. You dragged your tongue over both of her tits, feeling her nipples harden against your touch. She was getting impatient now. She pulled you closer so you were sitting with your legs tangled together, moving to slot herself between your legs. You let out countless desperate pleas as her wet cunt came into contact with yours.

You couldn't help but buck your hips into her no matter how much she tried to stabilize you, both of your moans filling the field. Her cunt was so wet against yours and you could feel her clit and lips both rub up and down all over your own clit. The stimulation felt so good but it had you desperate in ways your body knew, your whines getting louder when Ellie would lean in for wet, lazy kisses and trail her lips all over your neck, hands snaking around to squeeze your ass.

"Fuck, Els. Please, I'm gonna cum..I want you, please.." You pleaded with her, your orgasm building up inside you. This would be the first time you actually came from another person's actions.

"Cum with me, mkay? Cmon baby, you can cum for me.."

You'd never heard Ellie speak so filthy before. Sure, she had a sailor's mouth. She'd swear and curse even on her death bed. But just hearing her beg you to cum, it really sent sparks down into your pussy.

You frantically ground against her pussy, words coming out probably incoherent to Ellie's ears. "Fuck, I'm cummin', I love you Els.."

Your orgasm hit you like fireworks, all of the butterflies you'd felt for Ellie over the months released into intense bliss. She came with you, your juices mixing together, wetness coating both of your thighs.

The two of you spent the next few minutes catching your breaths, a comfortable silence exchanged. You were collapsed against her, arms around her as she held you close. She was so warm, and it was now a comfort more than a turn-on.

Soon, she spoke up in a soft, quiet murmur just for you.

"I love you too, by the way.."

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie smut #ellie x y/n #tlou smut #lesbianism #sapphic #wlw #sapphic smut #smut #the last of us part 2

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soo0hee · 2 days ago

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Home At Last

Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x afab!Reader x Choi Seungcheol

Summary — Jeonghan couldn't wait coming home to his loved ones. Especially when this was what was waiting for him...

Genre — smut, established relationship, idol!au

Warnings — penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be safe babes), fingering, heavy makeout session, tell me if i missed sumn

Word Count — 1.1k

Rating — nsfw

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

A/N — This was very heavily inspired by one of the daily thot discussions i had with @svtiddiess , you're welcome babe and no, i still can't write smut ;D

Shivering, your eyes fell shut. The gentle touch of Jeonghans fingers trailing down the skin of your back, slow and barely there, down your spine as you stood in the middle of your bed room.

The giant window gave you an amazing view of the city of Seoul. A view you weren’t able to concentrate on at the moment.

Dressed only in the dress shirt of one of your boyfriends and a black pair of lace underwear you had their focus solely on you.

“God you drive me insane my love…” Jeonghan whispered against the shell of your ear, making you swallow down the breathy moan that had threatened to escape. “Such a good girl for us, our lovely baby…”

“Hannie…” you whined, not able to form coherent words when his lips met the sensitive skin of your neck. Dark marks were covering your throat, blooming in a beautiful combination of blue and purple Seungcheol had left just a few hours before.

The rapper was watching his lovers with dark eyes from the bed, perched up against the headboard and a hard on standing tall in his boxers.

“Always so good for us.” He almost growled and you swore you could feel your knees shaking at his raspy tone.

“Did you miss me, baby? Missed how my fingers felt while I was away?” Jeonghan pressed another kiss to your throat, arms wrapping around your form from behind.

You nodded quickly.

Yes, you had.

Not having Jeonghan for the last few weeks had taken a toll on you. Of course you had Seungcheol but both you and the leader knew that your little trio was only really complete when it was the 3 of you.

And now that he had finished his base training, he was finally home again.

Seungcheol hadn’t told you about Jeonghan coming home, wanting to surprise you and god did he not regret it. The happy spark that brightened your eyes when Jeonghan walked in were well worth it.

“Good, because I missed you too.”

He stirred you towards the bed.

Seungcheol thoroughly enjoyed the sight. His shirt hanging off of your shoulders and his boyfriend kissing every inch he could reach while leading you to him had his dick twitching.

He reached for your hand, waiting for you to take it.

“Hello pretty girl.” He hummed watching you crawl on the bed and to him. He groaned when you settled on his lap, pantie clad pussy settling right on his dick. The thin fabric of your and his underwear the only thing separating you.

Jeonghan shrugged of the black silk robe he had been wearing, revealing his naked body underneath before joining you and his leader and lover. The shirt you were wearing fell to the floor beside the bed.

You moaned, the friction of you grinding against Seungcheol sent heat up your spine and caused another loud tortured groan from them man underneath you.

“Do you hear that, my love? Hear how good you’re making Cheol feel?” Jeonghan mumbled against your skin, never quite stopping his kisses while cupping your breast from behind, thumb flicking against your nipples.

You keened into the kiss you shared with Seungcheol.

“Please fuck me?” you gasped out, soaking wet.

Both men chuckled and let their eyes meet over your shoulder.

“Do you hear that Hannie? Our baby want us to fuck her… think we can do that?”

Jumping out of your skin when Jeonghan cupped your damp pussy with his hand, fingers rubbing your clit through your panties. “Can’t wait to be inside of our good girl again. Missed fucking her so much.”

The way they talked to each other like you weren’t even there left you breathless. Like you were nothing but a dumb toy for them to use as they pleased.

Soon you were all three stark naked, Seungcheols dick fucking into you with vigor. His big hands on your waist, helping you bounce on him with Jeonghan enjoying the show, hand jerking himself and raveling in the noises that left your mouth at having your boyfriend hit that special spot inside you dead on with every thrust of his hips.

Your high pitched, breaths paired with Seungcheouls low grunts was music to his ears.

Jeonghan felt himself grow impatient.

He had been away for weeks, depriving himself of the sweet noises you made when they had you falling apart in between you. Depriving himself of the faces of pure pleasure you made when him and his boyfriend had you at their mercy. Depriving himself of the warmth he felt when he was with the 2 people he love most…

“Think you can handle us both baby?”

You whined when the leader stopped thrusting, eyes snapping over to Jeonghan who was watching you like you were his pray.

“Of course she can, right sweet girl?” Seungcheol said and lifted you of his member to turn you around before sinking back into you.

He knew that Jeonghan wanted to see your face when he fucked you and he was unwilling to deprive the other of this pleasure.

Jeonghan finally claimed your mouth with his. His kiss oh so different compared with your other boyfriend but just as hot. Where Seungcheol was wild and rough, Jeonghan was sinful and sensual, a mix that balanced each other so well that you felt like you could cum just thinking about it.

“Ready?” he asked and lined his dick alongside his partners before slowly pushing in. Your head fell back at the sensation of being split open on 2 cocks simultaneously.

You felt Seungcheols hand on your thoat and clenched around them both, causing them to moan loudly at the sensation, making Jeonghan lose his cool and thrust in. The wetness between your legs making it a smooth glide and you almost came on the spot.

“Ah-hh, mommy pl-lease!” you pleaded for them to ruin you.

Neither of the men could hold themselfes back anymore. They started ghrusting with a sense of desperation they hadn’t felt in a while and you reached for something to hold onto while being at their complete mercy for the moment.

They could feel you tightening around them, thrusts growing erratic as all 3 of you hurtled towards your releases.

“Cum for Mommy and Daddy.”

Hearing Seungcheol rasp into your ear was like opening the flood gates. You came hard, followed right by them spilling their seed deep into your pussy while riding out the high.

Drops of sweat had started collecting on your forehead, yet neither of them hesitated to place calming kisses to the skin there as they showered you with praise.

“Did so well, for us. Such a good girl, taking both of us like a champ.”

“You’re finally home…”

Both smiled down at you and Jeonghan sighed in relief. The stress of the last weeks falling of his shoulders.

“Yes, I am.”

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backtothefanfiction · 13 hours ago

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Reading this just made me feel more proud of my writing abilities and reminded me of some of my favourite sex scenes I have ever written and it has really made me want to highlight them for you and why I love them so much.

Each one of these scenes is so completely different from one another, showing the true depths of the characters within them as they use these acts of intimacy to really help develop and flesh out who the characters are both as individuals and as partners. Each scene has a different need to be fulfilled and emotions to be shared and I am so incredibly proud of each one of them.

Angel In The Garden of Evil Chapter 19: Wash It Away

A mob!au Peter Parker Story

The intimacy of this scene coming as a conclusion for all the characters have been through not just during the story as you the reader reads it but also all the history they have together. It’s oddly sweet and tender as he takes the time to carry her into the house, to wash her in the shower and show her how much she really means to him. To literally wash away the old before they make love and bring in the new. It’s almost a whole cycle of life, death and rebirth moment. It’s the deep longing connection of husband and wife and how some loves just endure despite their tribulations.

Make Me Forget

Amazing Spider-Man Peter Parker x Harry Osborn Imagine (part two of crushed)

Running to the one person you shouldn’t to make the hurt go away. Asking your now ex boyfriends best friend to take you as his own after he rescued you from your abuser and asking them to claim you as their own and show you how to be treated right. To kiss away every hurt. To rewrite every touch on your body. It’s both painful and yet beautiful and hopeful and healing.

Nothing Ever Good Happens After 2am

A Joel Miller Story (Part 3 of the Insecure Series)

This is hate fucking at its finest. There’s so much tension and history and anger for both the past and present. Although so familiar with one another’s bodies they instinctively reach for each other due to that familiarity, but there is no resemblance of the way they once fucked to how they do now. The way they know each others bodies so well they can weaponise them against each other to do even more damage, leaving neither of them fully satisfied in the end and the act in fact only works to make their situation worse just feels heartbreaking on everyone, characters and readers alike. It’s short and to the point and makes me so proud.

What Benny Doesn’t Know Chapter 5

Frankie’s story

This is all about toxic love. It’s all the things well accepted when we are blinded by love. Overlooking the glaring problems just so you can be with them. Accepting their lies and bad behaviour. It’s doing drugs in the middle of the act. It’s cheating on partners. It is love and pain and longing and finally getting what you want but it’s at the wrong moment in the timelines and destined to fail from the second it started. Although a fun read and a wild time, the emotional weight and lessons for the reader also really shine through and I will always be proud of how I chose to handle this one, both for the characters and the over all story and it’s development.

the secret to writing good smut that doesn't feel like you're just repeating the same words for junk and fucking over and over is to spend your effort writing about everything happening around the sex and everything happening inside the heads of the people having sex and before you know it you have four paragraphs of introspection and two paragraphs describing the space and it's okay to use the word cock again

#just taking a moment to be proud #smut #smut recs #the power of smut to tell stories #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #mob!peter x reader #Joel miller #triple frontier #Frankie morales #the work I’m most proud of #fic recs

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chososcamgirl · 2 days ago

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(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: burnt french toast

masterlist

extras!

• satoru gojo helping out his students to the higher ups in every universe

• public apology on main? oh bros down BAD

• cue the pining and yearning arc😍

• toge and panda were laughing at all the videos of megumi in the taco bell parking lot😭

• toge def retweeted his fav ones on main and then got told off by gojo LMFAO

• i feel like nobara has used that reaction image before but idgaf ITS TRUE AND REAL

• PLEASE TELL ME YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABT WITH THE SANTA EDITS

• santa im writing to you because i want a pink pony for christmas…

• maki saying butch is canon

• i know she runs mcdonald’s like it’s the navy🫡

• the hate for kit connor has me seething

• no i haven’t watched heartstopper and i don’t plan to

• maki & nobara ARENT as mad this time bc like they know yn won’t do anything stupid and plus ig it’s justified… i think?

• the guys actually…. bonding?

• tridant not fighting for once*NOT CLICKBAIT*

• is this the bromance we’ve all been waiting for?

• this truely is my she’s just a phase😍🫰

• shakes magic 8 ball the stars say sukuna wants me bad !!! come here baby i’ll eat ur burnt french toast💔

a/n: ok maybe i over exaggerated how bad it was gonna be just a tad bit… 🤗 i was gonna initially have a written part for yn and sukuna but it just felt WRONG lmfao like it lowkey sounded like the megumi one so no thank you !! :/ also i know the party girls gc is LONG but its much needed i think !! anyways sorry it’s late u guys know me i’m never on time w posting :3 happy sjap saturday !!

taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

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the-screams-of-the-damned · 2 days ago

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Noises In The Night

Posting for the @6esiree writing contest, written for a whole work on wattpad. In this story, the reader is Alastor's assistant at the radio station and a close family friend. Alastor has agreed to help you clear out your father's cabin about a year after his mysterious murder.

Warnings: Alastor is kind of a perv, slight somnophilia, questionable intentions, innocent reader, mentions of murder, no real penetration (sorry)

Promises: obsessive Alastor, human Alastor, cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling

"I'll sleep on the couch," Alastor declared as he took the empty bowl from in front of you.

"Are you sure? I don't mind," you protest. You stood, pushing in your chair.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I've slept on the couch before," he assures you. He places a large hand on your shoulder, smile glistening in the lamp light.

You nod. "Okay."

He moves over to the couch, digging through his bag to find his pajamas. Yours are at the top of your bag. A cream colored nightgown with lace at the top and around the hem. You'd never admit that you'd packed it just for Alastor to see.

"Would you like me to step outside while you change?" He offers.

It hadn't even occurred to you that you'd be changing in the same room with him. You were positively pink at the thought. You could feel your insides stir at the image of him watching you change. A purely sinful thought.

"No!" Too quick of a response, far too quick. "I mean - I don't mind being in the same room. Do you?" You never met his eyes. A sorry attempt to hide what was happening in your mind.

"I don't.

Alastor tried to be a gentleman. He really did. He turned to face away from you as he undid the buttons on his shirt, trying to think of anything but you. He just couldn't help himself. The image of you was too tempting. He praised anything listening that you were turned away when he looked over his shoulder. Oh, how perfect you looked. He bit the inside of his lip as your skirt slipped down your legs. With all the subtlety he could muster, he began to memorize the details of your rear and legs that were now exposed to him. He pulled his pajama shirt over his shoulders and was forced to look away to button it. As he unbuttoned his trousers, he cursed himself for being such a pervert.

Your body itself didn't excite him quite enough. No, his own thoughts had created the erection that tried desperately to spring free. The thought of you giving yourself to him was what did it. The image of you laying down on your back, legs open and welcoming for him. The ways he could please you. Would you let him? Would you let him know you in the most intimate ways? Would you do that for him? And if you knew about his more unconventional hobbies? Would you do it then? Would you let him stain your heavenly wings red with his sins?

He pulled his pajama bottoms up, quickly buttoning them. He turned just enough to see you. Had he turned a moment later, he would have missed the sight of your cotton nightgown falling over your features.

"Are you finished?" You asked, trying to calm your own racing heart. You didn't want to ask. You wanted to wheel around without warning and catch a glimpse of him half naked. Perhaps he would be flustered. Perfect skin dyed red by embarrassment at being caught. Perhaps he'd like it. Perhaps he'd laugh at how forward you were and take you right then and there.

"Yes, you can turn around," he answered. You shook yourself from your thoughts, ignoring the stickiness in your panties. You turned to him, seeing him sit down on the couch. "Are you ready for bed?"

You nod, sitting on the edge of the bed. He leans over, turning out the lamp on the coffee table. The room settles into darkness, and your eyes adjust to see his silhouette.

"Goodnight, Alastor."

"Goodnight, my dearest."

Alastor didn't sleep. In fact, he didn't even bother to take his glasses off. Instead, he listened to the rhythm of your breathing. He waited, eyes adjusting to the dark until it was almost like daylight to him. After maybe half an hour, he heard your breath slip into the slow and even rhythm of sleep.

He stood, walking over to your bed. He'd become skilled at sneaking around, holding himself so that his footsteps were nearly silent. He stared down at you, admiring the way the moonlight bounced off of your skin.

Slowly and cautiously, he reached out a hand. He let the pads of his fingers drag across your cheek, down to your lips. They were parted only a little. His fingers traced the outline of your jaw, neck, and collarbone. You were so trusting to sleep in the same room as him. So very trusting. Your trust went straight to his cock, sitting heavy against his leg. His hand moved almost on muscle memory from the center of your collar bone upwards. His palm was flat against the column of your throat, thumb, and fingers on either side.

He pulled his hand away, not trusting it to obey him. He placed it on your shoulder. The thin straps of your nightgown left it uncovered, and he was finally able to feel your skin under his fingers. He trailed his fingers down your side, keeping his hands over your blanket for fear of what they might do if he let them under. He stopped as he felt the soft tissue of your breast.

You stirred in your sleep, rolling onto your back and starting Alastor. In his shock, his stealth left abandoned him. His heel hit a creaky floorboard as he jumped to tear his hand away from you, and your eyes flew open.

He shook himself from his panic. You hadn't seen him touch you. He could play it off.

"Alastor?" You rubbed your eye and began to sit up.

"I'm sorry, dear. Did I wake you? I thought I heard a noise and came to investigate," he told you.

"Oh. I think I'm just a bit jumpy," you claimed. You looked up at him, face shrouded in shadow as the light hit his back. "Being out in the woods like this can be a bit scary."

He nods. "I understand."

You sat up fully, rubbing the skin on your arm. "Esspecially since, y'know, people have been going missing recently." It was then that Alastor sat down on the bed, allowing you to see the gentle yet unreadable expression on his face.

"I promise that you're very safe. I wouldn't let a single soul in the world lay a finger on you," he assures.

"Really? You'd protect me?" You leaned closer to him.

"Of course! I'd wrestle gators if it meant you were kept safe," he promises. Something deep in your chest wanted more than that. You weren't sure what. However, his words presented you an opportunity.

"Would you sleep with me? Just for tonight?" You gave him your best puppy dog eyes as you asked.

You heard him swallow before answering. Had you been too bold? "Would you feel safer that way?" You gave him an eager nod. There it was. That blind trust turned him ravenous. "Then, of course, I will."

You pull aside the blanket, wiggling closer to the wall. He slides in beside you, adjusting himself while his back is turned so that you can't feel his arousal. It's a bit of a tight squeeze, which provides an excellent excuse to burry your face in his neck. You feel a soft chuckle reverberate in his chest.

"Would you like to cuddle?" His voice is a whisper, met with a nod. He snakes an arm under you and around your back, bringing his hand to rest on your hip. You wrap your arms around his torso, smiling like a schoolgirl. The stiring in your gut returns, and you make a brash decision.

You lift your leg over his hip and relish the way his breath hitches. Your nightgown rides up towards your hips. He brings his hand to your leg, pulling you closer by the plush of your thigh. He couldn't stop himself from squeezing a little harder, making you wiggle in his hold. Then you felt it, the unmistakable hardness of a man's erection. It made your heart jump. Of course, you wouldn't have sex with him. You'd been resolute to save yourself for marriage. But no sex didn't mean no intimacy.

"Alastor." His body tensed at the sound of your voice.

"Yes, my dear?" His voice was breathy and deep.

"Have you ever done these sorts of things before?"

He let out a deep breath before answering. "Yes, I have. I suppose you haven't?" You shake your head against his neck. He leans away from you, bringing his hand from your thigh to your cheek. Your eyes meet his, only inches away from each other."We won't do anything you don't want or that you're not ready for, okay? We could stop here, and I would be just fine with that."

"Okay." You nodded and smiled as his hand wandered just below your jaw. You pushed forward just enough to brush your lips against his.

Alastor's fingers curled under your chin, pulling your face close to his again. He captured your lips properly this time. It started soft and gentle, pulling away for quick breaths as he tightened his fingers around your hip. His tongue pressed against your bottom lip, and you opened just enough for it to slip past your teeth and run along your own. His hand made its way to your hair, trying to close an imaginary distance. You let him explore your mouth, occasionally running your tongue along his and enjoying the taste.

You let your hand wander, running over the collar of his sleep shirt. Your fingers came to the top button, fiddling with it in an anxious manner. He finally pulled his mouth away from yours, using his thumb to catch the trail of saliva that connected your lips.

"Dearest -" his voice came between pants and was whispered for only your ears. "Tell me what you want," he commanded. "I'll provide, my dear. All you have to do is ask me." His hand came to grip yours, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

Your mind struggles to put words to your desires. You have to close your eyes to say it. "Will you take your shirt off, please?" It came out a bit too formal for the situation, but Alastor was more than happy to oblige.

"Good girl." He took his hands away from you, making you whine softly against your will. You scooted back and watched as he sat up, hands making quick work of the buttons. With each button, the front slipped open more, exposing his chest and stomach in slow succession. The pale light caught the contours of his torso perfectly. He was lean with only the slightest outline of muscles. He was unsurprisingly well groomed, light hair over his chest and trailing down to his undercarriage.

As his sleeves slipped past his elbows, you reached a hand towards his chest. "May I?" You looked up at him, trying not to be embarrassed by how pathetically whorish you must seem.

"Of course, my dear. Come here." He patted his lap. You adjusted yourselves, letting him rest his back against the headboard as you straddled his lap.

You steadied yourself with a hand against his chest, nearly melting at the sensation. His skin was soft and warm under your fingers. You could feel the rapid beating of his heart underneath. He said he'd give you anything. Would he let you take his heartbeat? Would he give his life to you if you asked? Would he give you someone else's?

Alastor placed his hands on your hips, squeezing hard on either side. He pulled you flush against him, pressing your forehead to his. "Do you want to go further?" His breath ghosted over your lips, making your own get caught for a moment.

You had to think. How far did you want to go? You hadn't thought this far ahead. "Could you lead?" The request came out more like a whimper.

"Yes, I can. But you must promise me that you'll stop me if it becomes too much," he explains.

"I promise." You lean back and hold out your pinky finger. He laughs a bit before linking his with it.

Alastor places his hands on either side of your face, pulling you into another kiss. This one is more aggressive. His tongue seems to force its way between your lips as he pushes you further into him.

You bring your hands around his back, running your fingers along his spine and muscles. His tongue rubs against the roof of your mouth, causing a tickling sensation. His hands are warm, slight calluses along his palms. He brought them to your shoulders and then down your sides. He stops one hand at your waist, allowing the other to head down to your upper thigh. He pushes you down onto his lap fully, allowing you to feel his hard cock against your growing heat. His hand slowly moves to the hem of your nightgown, fiddling with the delicate lace.

He moves his lips from yours, pressing them against your cheek as he whispers. "Can I remove this?" You give him a mod without thinking. "I need words, my dear."

"Yes, sir." You hadn't meant to call him 'sir', but it felt natural. And you couldn't miss the way his cock twitched when you said it.

He brought his fingers to either side of you, gently pulling it up and over your hips. You lift your arms to make it easier, shivering as the cool night air hits your bare skin. Alastor leans back, looking down over your body.

Now, Alastor was no stranger to the female body. Between his various partners and burlesque shows, he'd seen his fair share of half-naked women. He never understood the excitement around them. Until now. Before now, he'd sat in judgment and superiority over the men who whistled at dancers and shouted marriage proposals at the end of a performance. But if you were up on that stage, topless in front of the crowd, he would become one of the many crazed men throwing themselves at your feet.

"This isn't an art gallery," you teased. Your discomfort added a hint of venom to your words. "You can touch me."

He chuckled for a moment before pulling your face to his once again. His chest pressed flush to yours. The warmth was all enveloping, wrapping itself around you and settling into every crevice of your bodies.

"If I touch you, my dear," he whispers. "I may never be able to stop."

"Then don't."

Alastor's smile seemed to spread even further. He brought his hand to your stomach, feeling the soft skin below his fingers. His hand trailed upward quickly, coming to cup your breast. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder. He squeezed the flesh in his palm, and you arch your chest further into his grasp. His free hand found your hip, slipping his pinky finger beneath the hem of your underwear.

You brought your hand to his hair, gripping it. You pressed your face into the top of his head, taking in his scent. As he slid his hand under your underwear to grip your rear, the vague smells of sweat and leather were utterly intoxicating. When he squeezed the fat of your ass, you instinctively pulled on his dark curls. The noise he released was strangled yet dripping in pleasure. You gave another experimental tug, earning another groan.

On the third tug, he finally spoke. "You're doing this on purpose now, aren't you?" His voice was breathy and spoken into your neck.

"And you're enjoying it," you mused. He dug his nails into your ass, making you yelp a little.

"Tread carefully, Doll."

Alastor began to trail his lips downward, leaving kisses as he went down your collar bone. The tightness in your core was becoming unbearable as he began to kiss over your breast. He licked over your sensitive nipple, enjoying the hardness against his tongue.

His own arousal had become excruciating. He finally brought the hand that wasn't firmly planted on your ass down under the waistline of his pants. He didn't miss the heat radiating from your core as he passed it. He loved it. He loved knowing how you enjoyed his touch. He took his throbbing cock into his hand, giving it a gentle stroke. You pulled on his hair at the same time, eliciting the loudest moan yet.

With that, Alastor had enough. The only noises he'd heard from you so far were giggles and little gasps. He wanted to make you scream. He pulled his hand from the flesh of your ass, teasing one finger over your covered heat.

"May I?" He spoke into your chest, running his finger from your clothed entrance to your sensitive clit. He gave a dark chuckle when you nodded. "Use your words, dear."

You gave a dry swallow. "Yes, please."

His slender fingers slipped below your panties, squeezing your clit between his fingers. Such a familiar yet foreign feeling. Sure, you'd explored on your own. You were used to the feeling of your own fingers along your clit or on occasion inside of you. How could the same action feel so much better when Alastor did it? He swirled the sensitive bud, loving the way your slick coated his fingers. You pressed your hips further into his hand. His concentration began to fault as he tried to please both of you.

He grazed the tip of his finger over your entrance. You let out a long whine at the feeling, making Alastor smile against your skin. He circled around your core a few times, teasing you. He finally frees himself from his pajama bottoms, allowing his cock to spring up against his stomach. He leans back against the headboard, trying desperately to keep his breathing even. You couldn't help but take in the sight.

His eyes were closed behind foggy glasses. His chest rose and fell with his labored breaths. The skin over his neck and chest was shiny with sweat. The faintest hint of abs showed across his stomach. And there it was for you. You'd never gotten a good look at one before, and here it was for your viewing. Caramel color that matched his chest, darkening along the bulbous head. Was that a normal size? It seemed a bit too large to be normal. Strong, slender fingers curled around the base, spreading some clear liquid over the length. It looked strangely... appetizing.

"AH!" You practically screamed when Alastor dipped his finger tip inside of you for a moment, cutting off your thoughts. You had to brace yourself against his chest as he laughed. "No fair," you muttered, meeting his eyes.

"I beg to differ," he mused. He leaned forward, kissing you on the tip of your nose. You tilted your head up, puckering your lips for him to kiss. He didn't hesitate to force his tongue between your lips.

You trailed your fingers down his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin. He pressed his finger back into you, swallowing the moan that escaped you. You gripped his shoulder in an attempt to cope with the stretch. His fingers were longer than yours by quite a bit. So much deeper. You couldn't help but grind into his palm, gaining friction on your clit. He took the hint, using his thumb to circle it. Alastor pulled away from you, nesling into your shoulder.

"My dearest," he whispered. "I want to show you something." He pulled back to look you in the eyes.

"Okay." Your voice came out as a slight whimper.

He removed his hand from your core, resulting in a soft whimper. He put his hands on your waist, lifting you off of his lap. He crawled off the bed. You looked on in confusion as he fell to his knees by the edge.

"Sit over the edge, dear," Alastor instructed. You followed, of course. He placed your legs on either side of his head, smiling brightly. "Such a good girl." He massaged your thigh gently, kissing the skin.

He looped his fingers under your panties. He slowly pulled them down your legs, eyes never leaving your core.

"If it becomes too much, tell me." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. You nodded. He took his glasses from his face, placing them on the floor beside him. He then pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. Then another. He trailed up the inside of your thigh until he was barely an inch from your heat.

You were vaguely familiar with the concept of cunnilingus, but you'd never expected it. You watched him rub your clit with two fingers. You used your arm to support you as you leaned back.

Alastor gave a kiss to your muff, taking a deep inhale of your scent. He then pressed his lips to your clit. He ran his tongue over it. You were so. Fucking. Delicious. He began to suck on the little bud as though his life depended on it. You let out a low moan of pleasure. He used his tongue to flick across it, enjoying the way your thighs began to squeeze his head.

His fingers grazed your leaking hole before pressing one digit inside. You moaned again, louder this time. You felt him grin against you. Your body clenched around his finger, sucking him in deeper. He licked just above your pussy, making your hips buck into his face. He began the thrust his finger in and out of you. You tossed your head back in pleasure.

A second finger pressed into you. You whined. He ran his thumb over your clit to balance the pain and pleasure. His breath tickled your sensitive skin. As his two fingers pushed in and out of you, he ran them across your inside walls. He reattached to your bud, suckling and licking over it with a renewed ferocity.

"AAAaa- Fuck!" Your body shot forward as his fingers found a soft spot inside of you. His grin seemed to double as you buried a hand in his hair. He pulled away from you, removing his fingers as well. You whined desperately.

He licked over your entrance before pushing his tongue into your dripping cunt. He brought his fingers to your clit, swirling in between them. His tongue seemed too long to be human. It curled inside of you, hitting that soft spot over and over. Between his fingers and tongue working you, it's hard to hold back each moan and gasp that came from you.

The cool breeze came over your skin, making Alastor's lingering saliva feel ice cold against your skin. You lifted your eyes to the window. It was open, curtains spread wide. Any passing animal or hunter would surely see you if they turned to look. As the realization washed over you, it caused an odd ripple of pleasure in your core.

You felt a familiar knot in your gut as Alastor pulled you closer. He dropped one of his hands to his own arousal, pumping like his life depended on it. The way your thighs squeezed him and your hips bucking into his mouth told him you were close. He couldn't have been more excited. You were the greatest meal he'd ever had, and now, he would make sure you finished.

With one final press to your sensitive spot, you let out a scream of pleasure that made your throat go raw. The sound made Alastor groan, and the taste of your cum filling his mouth was more than he could take. He didn't breathe for a moment as he came into his hand, lost in the ecstasy of finally, finally, knowing what his dearest tasted like.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #human alastor #somnophillia #1920s #writing

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magical-awesome-kid · 2 days ago

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“My guy, my dude, my bro… wait, what are your pronouns?”

“I’m good with whatever.”

“Cool. Well, if you all don’t like us touching you, why do you always look like random objects? There are a billion chests with hidden goodies around here. Become a wall or something.”

“We are TRYING to hide from natural predators, idiot. If there are a bunch of chests, and you are a chest, the monsters overlook you.

“Hmmmm fair point. Do you know how to write Common? Or any written language?”

“Some. I didn’t much like languages in school.”

“Mimics have… you know what? Pin in that. Why not become a chest and just have inscribed on your front in Common ‘mimic - do not touch. If you want conformation, ask.’”

“…you know what? Maybe I’ll try that. I’m still biting anyone who ignores it, though.”

“Fair enough. Now, you got a few minutes to discuss Mimic society?”

"MIMICS CAN TALK!?" "Of course we can, you idiot, we're not mindless monsters." "Then why do you guys always attack adventurers?" "You'd attack a stranger too if they opened your mouth and stuck their hands in it unwarranted."

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starkeygirls · 2 days ago

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i n v i s i b l e s t r i n g

chapter 1

rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: really bad at these!

wc: 2.5k

warning: none! i haven't written in a while, this is a rewrite of a story that i started in 2020, so please bare with me as i get back in the groove of writing.

a/n: guess who's back, back again. determined to finish this series. rafe and sofia in s4 really inspired me to get back into this fic, hope you all like it ◡̈ pls reblog/comment/etc.. would love to hear your thoughts ◡̈

______________________________________________________________

Sometimes you really fit into Figure 8. Sometimes you all did. Like when John B was off with Sarah and he was wearing the clothes that she had bought him to go out golfing or go to brunch at the yacht club. Or when Kie was dragged to a kook event by her parents at the country club. Pope wore his suit when he had different scholarship and college interviews- and he really gave the kook boys a run for their money with how good he looked in his steamed suit. JJ was the least likely to really look like he would ever fit in on Figure 8, and that was because he never wanted to. He reserved his ‘money suit’, as he called it, for when he had to work as a busboy, and occasionally picked up other gigs. You, however, were fitting in more often than you would have liked.

You tucked your white cashmere sweater into your long, green pleated skirt. Letting out a small huff as you sprayed your perfectly curled hair one more time. Throwing your purse over your shoulder, you trudged down your hallway, your sneakers cost more than $400. You could still remember how your jaw dropped when you saw the pricetag, and apparently the kooks ate these shoes up. They needed them in every color, every new style that came out. It was madness, if you were being honest. It was like they were just giving away money.

That’s what it seemed like, at least. You had been working at a retail store in the main strip of Figure 8 for over a year now. It was the only way you could afford the clothes you were wearing. You got a steep discount off the price, and you knew how to shop sales better than anyone.

Your kook masquerade was always squished the moment you walked out to your car. The old beat up Honda that was always parked out front was nothing like what a kook would drive. It was too old. A 2005? The kooks didn’t know what anything from that year was- maybe only their participation trophies from little league that had the year engraved, that was about it.

Unlocking the car, you tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, closing the door and buckling up your seatbelt.

“Please start, Hilda..” You mumbled, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as your hand turned the key in the ignition. She did, as usual- but you would never forget the time that she broke down. You cried for the ten minutes it took John B and JJ to rescue you. They were like your own little mechanics. Pope had called you in the car for the ten minutes while you sobbed and tried to calm you down- it didn’t work. Nothing worked until you saw your car fixed. You still owed them for saving your ass that day, regardless of how many times they assured you it was really nothing.

Crossing over the bridge from The Cut to Figure 8, you sighed: traffic. You knew by now the traffic was always bad as you headed into the main strip of town. It was the most popular place. Coffee shops, restaurants, stores.. Who wouldn’t be there if they had the money and time? Yeah, the coffee was overpriced and no one knew how to drive in their expensive cars, but it was still nice. Nicer than The Cut where people revved their engines when you scurried across the street.

–

It took you a half hour to finally pull into the parking lot behind your store. Saturdays were always the worst traffic wise, but boy, was it a good sales day. Checking the time, you bit your lip as you contemplated running to the cafe a few shops down to get a coffee. Technically you had time- you were always early. You had a fear of being late if you were being honest. You knew it looked bad, and it wasn’t hard for you to just leave a little early for wherever you were going. It took you two minutes to walk to the cafe, and you would give yourself ten minutes to be in the cafe, another two minutes to walk back, and you had twenty minutes until you had to clock in. What if the cafe was busy? What if it took you fifteen minutes in there?

You slammed the car door and walked towards the Cove Cafe. The bell dinged as you walked in, a smile pressed to your lips as you pushed your sunglasses to your head. It wasn’t busy. What a relief. You smiled at the barista as you walked up to the counter. You and Gabriella had become good friends from your constant stops to the overpriced coffee shop.

“The usual?” She asked with a grin, scribbling onto the cup as you nodded your head. You still had ten minutes to get back to the shop before you had to clock in. You smiled and waved back to Gabriella as you left the shop, sipping on the drink that had become a staple to your routine.

–

This Saturday was not a good day for sales. The weather must’ve been too nice, or everyone had gone to the mainland. The traffic you had fought through died down, and the small shop was deserted. Main Street in general was deserted. You and your co-worker, Abigail were basically staring at each other for four hours. It was painful at this point. You both had resorted to hiding off to the side hall to watch Netflix shows, peering your heads out when you heard the door open.

Most of the time it was one or two people wandering in- usually tourons who just looked around and pulled you away from the show. It was your turn to walk out there when the door dinged, watching as two people walked in. Your eyes squinted as you looked to the security camera before heading out from behind the curtain.

You tried to hide your surprise- and disgust- as your eyes glanced over to see Topper Thorton and Rafe Cameron in the small store. What did they want? Were they making rounds because Sarah was complaining about something John B had said? You knew it wasn’t a good idea John B was hanging around her. Were they threatening your group?

Was it too late to shove Abigail out here? Was it too late to lock the doors and pretend you never opened? Were you allowed to not greet them? Spit in their faces?

“Do you have this in a large?” Rafe’s question knocked you from your thoughts, blinking a few times before you furrowed your brows.

“Let me go check for you.” You smiled at the two boys before heading behind the curtain where Abigail was. “How did I get so unlucky to have to deal with Topper and Rafe? How come you got a Hollywood directors cousin and I get two assholes who aren’t going to spend any money?” A groan escaped your lips before you brought yourself down the stairs to the stockroom.

–

“So you’re going to take the three shirts, the sweater and the two pants and then we’re going to order you the polo in the salmon color, and the sneakers, right?” You ran by him one more time.

“Yeah, and ship it to the store if you can.” Rafe nodded, tapping his American Express Platinum card against the wooden counter. You nodded, typing away on the ipad register. It was a relief to finally be getting them out of the store, though they were a lot less of a pain then you had originally thought they would be. In fact, they were really respectful a complete 180 from what you were used to experiencing. They had hung back up everything they had tried on, and made sure to get a full glance of everything they could want in a different size or color before making you run to the stockroom once they were aware it was in a basement.

The only awkward part of the whole interaction was when you had absentmindedly walked back to the fitting rooms and saw Rafe shirtless as he spoke to Topper about the shirt he had on.

“Pants fit well.” You awkwardly smiled, diverting your eyes from Rafe’s toned chest. You didn’t hate having them in the store, and he was about to drop a lot of money which was only going to be more money in your pocket.

“You’re all set. Everything should be here by Wednesday the latest. I’ll give you a call when they get here.” You smiled, watching him tap the heavy card against the card reader. His blue eyes glanced up to meet your own eyes.

“Could you text me, actually? The number on file is my cell.” Your eyes glanced to Topper as he smirked, eyes glancing your way. To be honest, you were surprised. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed to text customers for outreach or order updates- but it was the look Rafe was giving you, it was the smirk Topper had plastered to his face, it was the way Rafe was leaning on the counter.

–

“And then as if spending an hour with them wasn’t bad enough, he asked me to text him when his order got to the store!” You were pacing in the living room of the chateau. You had driven straight there after work, it was a bit of a usual for all of you. After work on Saturdays, everyone would meet at the chateau and unwind, usually a beer or two, and pizza.

“Why are you dressed like you’re from the 60’s?” JJ asked, as if he hadn’t been looking at you for the past fifteen minutes you had been ranting.

“That isn’t the point, idiot.” Kiara chimed in, shaking her head at JJ’s comment. “Love the sweater by the way.” She smiled.

“Dude, it retails for like three hundred, I almost threw up when a woman asked me where it was in the store the last time I wore it and then she bought it in the three colors we have.” You smiled back, finally plopping onto the couch next to JJ. His eyes were wide as he looked to your sweater, before petting it.

“Fuck, it’s soft.”

“It’s cashmere and get your grubby hands off of it. You probably have oil or beer on your hands, and it’s dry clean only.” Your hand smacked at his.

“So when’s your first date with Rafe.” JJ teased, a groan leaving your lips as your head fell back.

“Where the hell did a date even come into this? If he gets my number that’s just another way to threaten us.”

“I wish John B and Sarah were here to hear all this.. Sarah would lose it.” Kie laughed. “But, we would probably get to the bottom of it. She would just text him and see what was up. Either we’re overthinking it, or we’re perfectly on track for whatever his twisted mind is thinking.”

“So are you going to wear cashmere on your date with him? Do you think he’ll pay?” JJ continued, a grin planted to his face. He wasn’t going to let it die down, which you should have expected. Jeez, where was Pope, John B and Sarah when you needed them?

–

Your fingers hovered over your phone after you had texted Rafe, the chat bubble signaling he was responding - and fast. There was no need to be nervous about whatever he was saying, it was your job, after all. Texting him as he requested for the order he placed - you hadn’t done anything wrong or out of the ordinary.

You jumped a bit feeling your phone vibrate in your hand, eyes scanning the text saying he would probably show up right before you closed because he was busy. Your lips pulled into a tight line, preparing yourself to have to stay past close. You hearted the message without even thinking, all sense of professionalism threw itself out the window. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, too late now to undo what had been done.

–

The store was in nearly perfect condition, you had told Abigail to head home, that you would wait out Rafe’s arrival on your own, assuring her he would surely only be about 5-10 minutes. You finger spaced the racks twice, re-folded your tables and even dusted off the mannequins as you waited for his arrival. It was now thirty minutes past close, the doors had been locked, your fingers tapped along the desk as a sigh escaped your lips, eyes rolling. Pulling your phone out of pocket, your fingers fired off a message to Rafe.

hey! i’ve gotta close up, we’re open from 9-7 tomorrow, just tell the associate you’re picking up :)

Grabbing your things from the back, your keys twirled around your fingers, jumping as a figure was looking into the glass doors of the store. A gasp escaped your lips as your eyes looked to Rafe’s, a smile pressed to his lips as he caught the panic course through your body. A small debate ran through your brain, should you even let him have his things? He should and could wait until the following day. Teach him a lesson on being punctual.

His hand knocked on the door, smile still pressed tight to his lips. It was almost cocky, like he knew that you would let him in. Before even making a conscious decision, your feet were carrying you to the door and unlocking it.

“Maybe we should add a watch to your order, seems like you could use it.” Your tone was a bit harsher than you intended, but at this point, he was wasting your time. Holding the door open, you quickly locked it after he entered.

“I’m only thirty minutes late.”

“You knew when we closed, you’re abusing my kindness.”

“Is that what you call the attitude?” Your eyes were glaring at this point, feet carrying you quickly to the back where Rafe’s items were packaged neatly, a bow around the handle of the bag and all. Grabbing it, you gasped yet again as he had been closer to the curtain to the back than anticipated. A chuckle escaping his lips. “You look like a deer in headlights.”

“Can you just take your things and go? I’ve spent enough time in this store.” A huff escaped your lips as you shoved the bag to Rafe, already walking towards the front door to escort him out. “And don’t worry, I’ll send you watches during my next shift so you can work on being on time.”

“So you want to see me again?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, smirk pressing to his lips. He clearly was in no rush to leave, or leave without frustrating you any bit he could.

“Right now I would love nothing more than to watch you leave, Rafe.” Unlocking the door, and opening it you motion for him to leave, your patience growing thin as he took his time walking from the store. “Thanks for shopping with us today.” You mutter before closing the door behind him and locking it.

–

Scrolling through your phone, a text pulled your brows together.

so, how’d i look walking away?

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bramblebeau · 1 day ago

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Alright I told myself I wouldn't interact with fandom when s2 came out, and I haven't and don't plan to except to say this about people deciding Caitlyn is the Worst or that the writing is OOC.

As someone who has had a family member violently killed, I cannot stress how much it shakes up everything you thought you were and stood for. My beliefs in proportionate compassionate justice and the rights of all human beings are some of the strongest I have (stronger now because of the way that experience affected me personally), but they were pushed to the absolute limit when it came to an individual who had killed my loved one, showed no remorse, and laughed in our faces outside court, among other things.

People generally like to believe it wouldn't be them or their peace-loving family members being talked down from seriously considering violent revenge, consequences be damned. People like to believe they wouldn't lash out at people closest to them under that pressure, that they wouldn't build walls around the kindest and most sensitive parts of themselves because those parts are the ones feeling pain you never thought possible, that they wouldn't stalk the killer, make notes on all their family and friends, and fuck up their hands punching walls in anger wishing so badly it was flesh and bone because they can't handle the fact that there's no way to turn back time to stop it all from happening. People like to think they're "better" than that. But the reality is messy and painful as hell.

With Caitlyn, she has the added guilt of having actually had the opportunity to stop Jinx before she fired the rocket, but she hesitated just long enough for it to result in the deaths of her mother and other councillors and in the cities being plunged into chaos. Not only that, but the person close to her she's lashing out at is the person who caused her to hesitate, and just so happens to be the sister of the killer.

Furthermore, her behaviour is entirely in character. We have seen her set up as someone who becomes obsessed with achieving a goal and will do pretty much anything she wants to get there. In S1, we agreed with her methods because her goal was exposing and taking down Silco, and because it led to Vi being released. In S2, she's doing a similar thing but it's fuelled by fear and a type of pain she doesn't know how to deal with, rather than being fuelled by a need to prove herself and solve a case, and it leads to her making morally questionable decisions and to hurting Vi. She admits herself, albeit privately to Vi, that she does not know what she's doing and doesn't know how to fill this hole in her chest (and the hole in the city leadership). She has been sheltered from the real world for almost all her life, and as a result she has no experience of functioning or making decisions under this kind of pressure. The real world blew up in her face in the worst way and she was given power and a loaded rifle, and then shoved into an even more elevated position by a very experienced warlord who is manipulating the shit out of the whole situation.

I'm not saying that you have free rein to hurt people when you're grieving and facing extreme stress. (If you think that's what I'm saying then idk I'm not sure there's much hope for you in terms of critical thinking skills). What I'm saying is that Caitlyn is exhibiting pretty normal human behaviour that most people would be susceptible to in those circumstances, not the behaviour of someone who is some kind of heartless abusive bastard.

TLDR: Caitlyn is being written in a way that completely makes sense and is also not OOC, and if someone told me there would be no chance of them reacting in similar ways I simply would not believe them.

#needed to get this off my chest #I just dont know why people watch media with complex characters and messages if they aren't prepared to think about it all critically #like that's literally what makes it engaging #okay I'll return to my hole now #arcane #arcane s2 #arcane s2 spoilers #arcane spoilers #caitlyn kiramman #cw grief #cw family death #cw murder

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pedroscurls · 1 day ago

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training partners (pt. 10)

summary: with your trainer's help this last week, you slowly find your way back to yourself again... and you finally have the courage to tell hugh more details about your relationship with jack and it only makes him angrier. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst - mentions of toxic relationship, verbal / physical abuse (not with hugh!). implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.4k a/n: anyway, we're getting into the reader's backstory with jack, so it's going to be a bit dark... and consider this the first argument between reader and hugh... gonna be a tough next couple of chapters, but trust me when i say there will be a happy ending at the end of all of this! as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part.

You’d taken today off to drop your trainer off at the airport. This last week had gone too fast and while it was emotionally and mentally exhausting, it was just what you needed to remind yourself just how far you’d come. There’s still something lingering in the pit of your stomach, the anxiety that you’ll need to have a conversation with Hugh about everything that’s happened with you and Jack. He knows bits and pieces that you’ve shared before, but he doesn’t know the full picture.

“You gonna be okay?” she asks.

“I think so,” you nod. “I can’t let Jack run my life anymore.”

Your trainer pulls you into a hug, holding you tight. “You’re a good person,” she whispers. “And you never should have gone through what you did. He should have never put you through that.”

You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you wrap your arms around her as well. She had been a godsend and so important in your journey in finding yourself again. She empowered you, motivated you, and helped you see just how worthy you are.

When she pulls away, she smiles in your direction. “Hugh loves you,” she points out. “Allow yourself to be loved because you’re worthy of it. You’re enough.”

You nod, wiping any fallen tears from your cheeks. “I just don’t want to disappoint him… What if he realizes that I’m not what he thought I’d be, that maybe all the pain I’m still working through isn’t worth it?”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “You don’t see the way he looks at you, do you?”

You share your head.

“Well, that man looks at you like you can do no wrong. Like you’re the only person that matters. Trust me, you are worth it.”

“Part of me is also nervous… To talk to Hugh and tell him everything. He knows bits and pieces, but…”

“He’ll understand,” she replies.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will.”

You sigh and then pull her in for another hug. “Thank you for coming here, for being there for me. Again.”

She lets out a quiet laugh and gives you a tight squeeze before she pulls away. “If Hugh wants to invite me back, let me know. I’d be happy to visit again,” she winks.

“I’ll let him know. Get home safe.”

“Remember how far you’ve come, okay?” she says. “And if Jack crosses any lines, it might be time to get the authorities involved.”

You nod in agreement. “I know… I just don’t want it to get to that point.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t.”

—

Later that night, you’re sitting out on the balcony of the hotel room with a notebook on your lap. You had tried to write some talking points to go over when Hugh gets home. You know he’s going to be tired, but you know that if you don’t have this conversation with him, you may never will.

You know he’s on his way back to the hotel and your heart races faster and faster. You can feel the anxiety course through your veins and even with the notes you had written down, you still don’t feel all that confident. It’s not the fact that you have to tell Hugh what happened, but it’s the fact that you’d have to relive everything that Jack had put you through.

When you hear the hotel room door open, you stand up and turn to look over your shoulder and make eye contact with Hugh. He looks tired, but at the sight of you, his eyes light up and a broad smile lines his lips. This must be what your trainer was referring to… about the way he looks at you. It eases your nerves, calms you down and keeps you grounded because with Hugh, you have always felt safe.

He steps out into the balcony with you and pulls you into his arms, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Hi, baby. Missed you on set today.”

You smile to yourself and shut your notebook, setting it on the chair you were sitting on and away from his line of view. “I missed you too.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands playing with the hair at his nape. “How was filming?”

“It was good. Movie’s coming along.” Hugh holds you closer to him, eyes falling shut as he holds you in his arms. This was what he was looking forward to all day. Being with you. He knows that this last week had helped a great deal, having your personal trainer here had helped immensely. You weren’t so much on edge anymore and it felt like things were going back to normal. Before Jack entered the picture. “And how was your day? You get home safe after dropping her off?”

“Oh yeah,” you nod. “It was nice having her here. Thank you for doing that, baby. You really didn’t need to and–”

“I know,” he says quietly. “But I wanted to. I knew she would help… in ways that I couldn’t.”

“I love you,” you smile. “I’m really lucky.”

“I love you too, baby.” He pecks your lips and then slowly pulls away. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and maybe we can order in for dinner?”

“Wait, Hugh…”

“Yeah?”

“After your shower, can we talk?”

Hugh’s brow furrows, biting the inside of his cheek as his hands move to rest on your hips. “What about?”

“Just…” you bite your lower lip. “It’s nothing bad. I just–”

Hugh tilts his head to the side. He can sense your worry, your anxiety, so he just nods and leans in to peck your lips lightly. “Okay, baby. We’ll talk after my shower.” As he turns to walk back into the room, you reach out for him and pull him back into a tight hug. Your face buries into his chest, arms tightening around his frame as you hold onto him for a few seconds longer.

“You sure you’re okay?” he whispers.

“I will be.”

—

Hugh’s shower doesn’t last that long. He tries not to overthink about what you wanted to talk about, but he can’t help the tug he feels in the pit of his stomach. Now he’s worried, he’s concerned. He quickly changes into a pair of black sweatpants and a Global Citizen t-shirt. He dries his damp hair with a towel and steps back out into the room, seeing you still outside on the balcony. You’re writing in your notebook again and he knows that you only write when you have something on your mind, something that you can’t shake.

Quietly, he steps out with you and smiles in your direction. Hugh watches you close your notebook, setting it on the small table. He doesn’t let you get up, instead, he scoops you into his arms and then sits in the same chair with you on his lap.

“Okay, let’s talk, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek as he drapes an arm over your legs. Hugh tries not to make it seem like he’s nervous and he isn’t even sure if you take notice because he can see that your mind has drifted, and can feel the tension in your shoulder blades.

“Jack–”

“What?”

You take a deep breath and move an arm around his shoulders. “I need to tell you about– about Jack.”

“Baby, you don’t have to–”

“I need to, Hugh.”

He can see the tears in your eyes and a piece of his heart breaks at the sight. Hugh cups your cheek and gently brushes his thumb across your skin, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “Okay,” he says softly. “I’m here. I’m listening.”

You nod and bite your lower lip. “So, we were together for three years…”

“That I knew.”

“The– The abuse, the manipulation, everything happened so fast. I didn’t even realize what was happening until I realized it was too late.”

Hugh tightens his jaw. He feels anger bubbling within him, but he opts to remain quiet, to keep a neutral look on his face. He knows that you need this, that you need to tell him and he can’t react because he fears that if he does, you’re going to pull away and he knows how important this is that you’re telling him.

“I had gotten used to his insults… so much so that I started to believe him.” you’re about to get off his lap, about to pull away from him, but he keeps a firm hold on you. When you look into his eyes, all you can see is the concern in his features and the subtle desire to take your pain away.

“Oh baby…” Hugh whispers quietly.

“I’m weak and I’m not brave,” you continue. “And that’s because of Jack. I should have left at the first sign of his verbal abuse, but I always–” you can feel your breath catch in your throat. “I always justified his actions. Always felt like it was my fault, that he was acting the way he was and saying the things he’d say because of me. Because I was making things difficult for him.”

Hugh tightens his jaw when you look away from him, the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach.

“And I believed him. I thought– I thought I could give all of my love to him and he’d see how much I cared for him, how much I was willing to do anything for him. Because I did,” you say with a disappointed tone. “I did love him and when he broke up with me – he broke up with me –” you shake your head. “It was my fault. It was always my fault. Mine.”

“Baby, no…” Hugh shakes his head and cups your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I couldn’t even break up with him, Hugh. All of the nasty things he’s said to me and I couldn’t–” you shake your head and stand up from his lap before he can pull you back. “I was heartbroken when Jack broke up with me because he made me believe that no one would ever love me… that I wasn’t worthy of love and I fucking believed him.”

Hugh’s foot taps against the floor incessantly. He wants to reach out for you, but he always wants to find Jack and cause him just the same amount of pain – if not more. But then, he hears the words leave your lips and he jumps up from his chair.

“He hit me once.”

“What?”

“Hugh…”

“No no, he what?”

You bite your lower lip and stare up at him. You can see the anger clear in his features and you gently reach out for him, but he just shakes his head. He’s fuming, hands shaking at his sides at your admission. You know this was going to happen, had even expected this reaction, but seeing it firsthand is entirely different. You don’t know how you can even calm him down.

“I got angry because he had made me make him dinner after a long fucking day at work and–” you sigh. “After that, I learned how to fight because I knew that if he put his hands on me again, I’d fight back and–”

“Wait, he hit you? Put his hands on you?”

“Hugh…”

“No, baby.” Tears are now pooling at his eyes. “He doesn’t get to do that, do you hear me? He has no fucking right–”

“Hugh!” you raise your voice, staring up at him. “I’m not telling you this to make you angry. I’m telling you this so you can understand why he had so much control over me, why I reacted the way I did when I saw him that one night at dinner, why it’s so fucking hard for me to see how worthy I am of this, of you.”

Hugh shakes his head. He’s trying – truly, he’s trying so fucking hard to understand (and there’s a big part of him that does), but all he can see is this man putting his hands on you, putting thoughts and words into your mind that aren’t true.

“Give me his number. The number he called you from a couple of weeks ago,” Hugh says.

“No.”

“Baby, he can’t just get away with thinking that what he did to you was okay. He can’t get away with still making you feel the way that you do.”

“What are you going to do? Go and beat him up?” you ask, shaking your head. “Hugh, you’d get arrested! It’d be all over the media and–”

“I don’t care!” Hugh yells – it’s the first time that he’s ever raised his voice at you and when he sees you take a step back, it brings him back to reality. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I just– I can’t fathom this man walking around thinking like he did no wrong, baby.”

“Nothing you do will help him see that, Hugh.”

“No? Well he hasn’t dealt with someone like me and–”

“Just stop!”

Hugh furrows a brow. “Baby–”

“No, Hugh…” you cross your arms over your chest, wanting so badly to just get away from this all, away from Jack, away from Hugh. “I don’t need you to save me… I don’t need you to go back to my past and make things better. I just need you to understand the shit I went through is what made me who I am today. And I’m still healing… I’m still working on it, and I just–” your breath catches in your throat once more. “You’ve been so patient with me, so understanding that I figured I’d at least tell you everything because… because I will have moments where it’ll be hard for me to snap out of it.”

“I know, and I appreciate you telling me all of this, baby–” Hugh sighs. “But I can’t just sit here and not do anything about it.”

“You know what,” you tell him, opening the sliding door to walk back into the hotel room. “I’m gonna go for a walk. I can’t be here right now. This wasn’t how I thought this conversation would go.”

“Baby, no–” Hugh walks after you, watching you pull on a jacket and slip on your shoes as you grab your bag. “Please, just stay. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you tell him quietly. “I just need some space right now.”

“I love you,” Hugh whispers.

“I know,” you reply, grabbing the hotel key card and setting it in your bag. “I love you too, Hugh, but I just need to be alone right now. We both need to calm down before we say something we’re both going to regret.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond because just as his mouth opens to say something, you’re already out the door.

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfic #real person fiction #rpf #real person fanfiction #hugh jackman angst #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #hugh jackman x reader #story: training partners #hugh jackman x female reader

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itsmemuffy · 2 days ago

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Random Fluffy/Cute Logan Howlett HC's

Original Trilogy!Logan x fem reader, 110% fluff

a/n: I started writing for Logan a couple of months back. Decided it was time to be brave and actually post something. My drafts are a mess of half written drabbles and random ideas, so I am testing the waters with some HC's while I try to figure out how I want to write him.

➼ We all know Logan has almost no sense of pop culture. Kids at the mansion will tease him when a reference goes completely over his head. He hates the feeling of not being in control of a social interaction. One time, he catches you giggling off to the side when he gets called an old man for the third time that day; one of the few instances you've ever seen him blush. His consumption of modern media has mainly consisted of dad rock that plays in dingy bars and the occasional movie he was forced to sit through.

➼ Speaking of... he loves movie nights. At first it was just a guaranteed way to get you alone once a week, adoring how you get all exited over whatever film you had picked out. It's not like Logan had planned to pay attention to what was happening on screen, anyway. More often than not, however, he finds himself getting waaay too into the movie than he originally intended. He's a smartass that likes to call out the inconsistencies and plot holes. When a movie has an ending he isn't satisfied with, it will make him genuinely angry.

➼ Second only to movie nights, Logan's favorite moments spent with you is when you go on walks together. Both of your free time is rare and precious. The second he has the opportunity, he will take you by the hand and lead you off somewhere, anywhere. Wandering around, arms linked, sometimes in silence, sometimes while letting eachother ramble on and on about everything and nothing. He cherishes the simplicity of being hand in hand with the woman he loves, enjoying nature with her. Every time without fail, Logan will ask if you are cold, wrapping you in his jacket. It drives him wild the way your scent will linger on his clothing when you give it back.

➼ So called "actual" dates where he takes you out are far and few between. Sometimes it eats at Logan that he can't treat you the way he feels you deserve. A hectic and unpredictable schedule is just one of the things that come with being part of the X-Men and it's hard for him to plan things ahead of time. Even if it's just a late night drive to a 24-hour diner after he gets back from a mission, he will make time for you any way he can.

➼ Logan needs to initiate some form of touch when you're in his presence. Even if it's just a hand resting gently on the back of your shoulder, he will make sure you are linked to him any way possible. It brings him great comfort just to be near you. Everyone knows that as soon as he walks into a room you're in, he will be glued to your hip. At the end of the day, you're Logan's peace and he wouldn't pass up a single second to be next to you.

#Wolverine x reader #Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett fluff

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webism · 3 days ago

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It really irritates me that you can write low effort stables like the pornstar ones and hit 10k when I write full fics and barely break 500 most of the time. Do I just give up because people like you won’t ever give us the spotlight for a damn minute? It’s incomprehensible how *you’re* so popular and the longest thing I’ve seen you write is maybe a thousand words.

whats apparently incomprehensible to you is how that’s not my fucking problem lmao

do you think i pick and choose what every person on this site interacts with? it’s not my fault nor is it my issue if you aren’t getting the engagement you want. i’m sorry you’re struggling with it but also i don’t care 🤷🏻‍♀️

‘give you the spotlight’ bitch shut up don’t attack me for your shortcomings. writing is HARD and draining and you need to be putting love into your community rather than bitching at me. i couldn’t imagine dogging on a stranger because i’m not getting the attention i want.

also i’m writing two novel series and an interactive novel. i have an editor i pay—i’m going to be a published author. i don’t NEED to write 10k word fics but i have 12k written in nanamis masked route alone and that’s unfinished.

have some fucking fun with the porn you write and get off my blog 💤💤

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sarahreesbrennan · 3 days ago

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I remember reading in one of your blog entries (years ago??) that in the new book you were writing, the main character's *sister* had cancer. Does that mean that Alice was originally the main character of Long Live Evil? Was she going to go into the book to save Rae, instead of Rae going in to save herself?

How extremely kind of you to remember!

No, that was actually a YA murder mystery that I wrote while ill, revised while recovering, and sent out into the world where it died on submission. (Which means we sent it out to about 12 editors and the editor either said no, or said yes and took it to acquisitions - a group of people at the publisher including sales and marketing - and acquisitions said no.)

One editor told me she really wanted and really tried to buy it. Another person who worked in publishing (and has since changed jobs, or I wouldn’t share this) said the response at her acquisitions was - if you like this writer, find the next her (implications about health and youth were made).

I was terrified my agent was going to ditch me too, but she said ‘We’ll sell that one day, for now let’s write the next thing.’

I remember another writer telling me she missed my work that wasn’t a tie-in, and I felt ashamed to tell her it wasn’t that I wasn’t writing other things - it was that I couldn’t publish them.

The tie-ins meanwhile were paying the bills (they still are tbh!) and I was and remain so grateful for them. But I also really loved writing them - especially my Sabrina tie-ins, you don’t forget the first, and it reminded me I want to write horror and poly one day - and how they got me to love and sympathise with so many fandoms.

I see the burnout of caregivers all around me, and I wanted to write the story of one. But maybe I also wanted to take a step back from cancer. I didn’t think I did, at the time. I had a whole lot of things I tried writing before Long Live Evil, and I think some of them were really good. One of my critique partners gave me a lipstick with the same name as someone in the murder mystery. There was a romance novel another critique partner said was her favourite thing I’d ever written. But none had someone with cancer at the heart of the story.

And even though Rae isn’t much like me, maybe I had to start there. You can’t make real magic using someone else’s liver. Maybe I had to wait to be brave enough to use my own liver.

I do get requests for advice on how to cope with rejection of your writing, and I always worried I didn’t have anything else to say, but I suppose my example says - if you can, (and I know it’s hard, you feel so terrible at writing and so useless) (and you love the work you’ve done so much and you don’t see a way forward to loving the next thing) (but still, if you possibly can) write the next thing.

Even if the first thing sells, you’ll want the next thing one day. Writing the next thing is more writing practise, so it’ll make you better. Write the next thing.

Ultimately I’m really glad Long Live Evil was my comeback book. I think it needed to be. It took the time it took.

But maybe it was a shade of that past book (where the heroine’s sister with cancer was six, so not much like any of the Time of Iron characters) that made me think of the YA version of this book, which I always had in my mind as something I was intentionally hewing away from - a more straightforward book, a book that might have sold better - in which shy reader Alice was the hero. She’s the one with the suggestive hero name - Alice through the looking glass - the heroine looks, and the more projectable-upon personality. She’d get called annoying less often (though still some, because she’s a girl), partly because she is (with love, Rae knows I’m right) a genuinely less annoying person. Much kinder, much sweeter, and much better at in-depth reading! Her sister being in trouble would’ve been a backstory, a catalyst point, and - you’re totally right - a great motivation for her to get the Flower. Saving a family member is a much more sympathetic and heroic motivation than saving yourself and one I do love (the Hunger Games, Labyrinth, Mahy’s the Changeover, and I write it a lot!). I think Snarky While Tragically Dying Rae would’ve been a pretty popular side character, too. I think it would’ve been a good book! Just not mine.

I love your question because I love thinking about POV, and all the decisions that are the building blocks of a story. To me, the Alice centric Time of Iron is a version that exists. As are several versions of the Lia centric Time of Iron. And versions centring other characters exist to me, too. (Eric, absolutely.)

Speaking of POV musing, I think Rahela the wicked stepsister featured more in the musical than the book. If the Time of Iron series ever became a TV show (and at this point in time I think I’d rather a movie because it wouldn’t… get cancelled…) and I got to write it (don’t know why I would…) I would start with the beginnings for three characters about to go on a journey to somewhere strange to them: Key in the Cauldron, Rae in the hospital, and Vasilisa in the icelands. There are so many possibilities! And I really wanted the sense that there were so many possibilities, too.

But I wanted the chronically ill one to be the centre of the story, and for it to be her villain origin story, and to ask a lot of questions (hence a lot of villains!) about who gets villainised and why. And I thought hers, to my mind, would be the most fun of all the possible stories.

So that’s the one I made. But Long Live Evil has a lot of origins. Thank you for remembering one of them! I don’t think I would’ve dared tell the story, if things hadn’t worked out for me (so far, fingers crossed).

And I also tell it to be clear my publisher was taking a RISK with me and Long Live Evil, and I really appreciate that, and I’m so happy it’s worked out for them (again so far, early days, fingers crossed, etc).

I hope some writers - whether in the process of submission, rejection or making the choices that are the building blocks of story - find this helpful, and some readers find it interesting.

Let this be one of the universes in which your story is told.

#publishing #writing tips #villains #cancer #epic fantasy #isekai #Long live evil #alice in wonderland #labyrinth #the hunger games #the changeover #chilling adventures of sabrina

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eddiegettingshot · 3 days ago

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and i suppose we will see how they approach it. i actually do understand why the way the breakup was written came off as being possibly biphobic on tommy’s end, but that speaks to a level of carelessness in tommy’s writing that’s been pretty consistent. however to be honest to me it didn’t seem like tommy’s comment about buck needing to figure himself out was about figuring out his sexuality itself—in the context of the conversation, which led with buck talking about how abby transformed him, it kind of seemed like the problem was actually that buck feeling all this newness and excitement around his sexuality and attaching those feelings to tommy specifically hindered him from figuring out what he actually wants in a partner for himself, for reasons that aren’t connected to his feeling Transformed. he wasn’t talking about buck figuring out whether he wants to be with a man or a woman or like, sex, or whatever, but about buck’s self-image and actual, sincere desires in a relationship. we all know buck didn’t actually want tommy to move in, that was a part of his spiraling. and i don’t think that has anything to do with tommy being a man lol

#911 spoilers #the scene is a little weird and not super well written. i get it

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aethon-recs · 2 days ago

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This Week (x2) in Tomarrymort (25 October – 7 November 2024)

Hello again! We have two multi-chaptered fics finishing this week, highlighted below, as well as a bunch of delicious one-shots and chapter updates as always.

Completed Fic:

Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva (M, 61k, complete) “After something of a long absence, Lord Riddle, the Earl of Gaunt, had returned to London.” This is a really cool Regency and Omegaverse AU (how cool is that to see that combined??) that features a lot of courting, gossip and intrigue, social climbing, and Alpha Tom Riddle along with Beta Harry Potter. Broken Tomarrymort Telephone: Collected Stories by @exquisite-tomarrymort-telephone (E, 109k, complete) A Tomarrymort version of the Broken Telephone game — passing a whispered word or phrase around a circle, with it often evolving into something quite different as it goes from person to person. “In our version, the starting person received a secret prompt and wrote a fic based on it. They then created a prompt for the next person by summing up what they had written in a single sentence -- with the caveat that their prompt couldn't use the same words as the prompt they were given. This continued through twenty-six (26!) different authors and artists, each adding their own flair and creativity to the exercise. Which brings us to now! We're wrapping up the creation part, so it's time to start sharing it with the world. We hope you enjoy what we've created -- we certainly enjoyed making it.”

In addition, a recap of the author notes from last week. (Please feel free to add some extra context to your fic update in the reblog, such as a little bit about the chapter(s) updated, and I’ll throw it in the update for next week!)

every step i choose to take begins to set the world aflame by @boyneptunee (NR, 4k, WIP) “Tom Riddle wants to become immortal. He will do whatever it takes to achieve it. It gets him in the most interesting situations. (A Phoenix saves his life. The Phoenix is not a Phoenix.)” These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 31k, WIP) “You call me here because you crave atonement, and only I can give you that. After all, I am the only other who knows what it means to tear one’s soul. Or, as one very astute commenter put it, "Enter Voldemort, the World's Worst Therapist!" (Sorry in advance - Voldemort basically wrote this chapter lol)” Touch of Death by @moontearpensfic (E, 6k, WIP) “An oviposition AU, where Eldritch Harry/Death gives Tom his eggs, which will protect Tom from, well, death. In chapter two, the eggs hatch.” Time Stumbler by @wintumnly (T, 96k, WIP) “One part of my slowburn Harry-raises-Tom series. It ends in Tomarry, but everything building up to that point is unhinged humor, not-good-at-feelings fluff, and angsty plot surrounding Harry and Tom's chaotic and ever growing affections for one another. Update 23 explores Unconditional Love, and there will be familial love, friendship love, flirtatious love, obsessive love and others in future parts.”

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapters 26 and 27 (Completed) of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapters 1 through 27 (Completed) of Broken Tomarrymort Telephone: Collected Stories by @exquisite-tomarrymort-telephone

One Shot | Resonating Souls by @endlessburningdarkness

One Shot | Anabiosis by @lee-bella

One Shot | Bites and other Surprises by lemonchase

One Shot | Viticula by @crowcrowcrowthing @cindle-writes

One Shot | Speedrunning Danger by @i-dream-of-libraries

One Shot | Karma’s a bitch by @albondiguilla007

One Shot | It's Like This by @twopenguinsinabox

One Shot | Boulder On by @lumosatnight

One Shot | WTF, Potter?! by BvinYa_Raama

One Shot | a couple inches shorter by @2sidesofthesamesoul

One Shot | bloody money by @00queasy00

One Shot | Cerulean blue by @albondiguilla007

One Shot | It's Not Always What It Seems by dysproporsium

One Shot | To be Entwined by @cyandenial

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 6 of And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan

Chapter 18 of A Simple Request by @shyinsunlight

Chapters 3 through 6 of in the silence by @satflesk22

Chapter 7 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic

Chapters 15 and 16 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3

Chapter 11 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 2 of In My Lover's Room (i am free) by @hyalith

Chapters 1 through 5 of To the Hilt by @izharmilgram

Chapter 10 of Strings of Fate by dizzydreamer

Chapters 2 and 3 of If I were you by @onehitpleb

Chapter 25 of would that i'd loved (long ago) by @sprst1tion

Chapter 18 of with eyes like these (who sees anybody else) by @cealesti

Chapter 9 of 7 by @moontearpensfic

Chapters 3 and 4 of you speak of the devil (like he's not your friend) by @amuria

Chapter 24 of Time Stumbler by @wintumnly

Chapter 20 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 19 of Of Darkness and Luminescence by @mindchroniclesandbrainfluff

Chapters 6 and 7 of Memories of a Killer by @chemfreakwriting

Chapter 1 of ROOTED by @inhumanbby

Chapter 1 of baby, turn the bright lights on by @ictyn

Chapter 1 of Harry's No Good, Very Bad Day by @2sidesofthesamesoul

Chapter 15 of Double-Aspect Paradox by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 15 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 7 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

Chapters 131 and 132 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 1 of Wish by @sri-verse

Chapter 10 of flour power by Kozzie

Chapter 5 of What quickens me is the violence in thee by @i-dream-of-libraries

Chapter 20 of Occultation by TimaeusKosmou

Chapters 21 and 22 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapters 1 and 2 of The Serpent and the Stag by @green-like-the-sky

Chapter 2 of Fake Boyfriend by J0305

Chapter 7 of i am anonymous, you are a concrete wall by Pensievable

Chapter 8 of we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee

Chapter 8 of Lesmosyne by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 2 of Your Wish, My Command by @moontearpensfic

Chapters 6 and 7 of Venom or Valor by @lightningant

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #tomarrymort recs #aethon recs #tomarry recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #hp fic recs #harrymort recs #tomarry weekly #this week in tomarrymort

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lady-pug · 3 days ago

Text

Written Between the Lines

Interlude - Meddling With Our Hearts

Summary: Five times someone interferes with yours and Aemond’s relationship and one time you decide to take the reins and shape your own fate.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 6,9k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece)

Notes: Hello!! How have you all been? This one came out faster than I expected! Yay!

Okay, just to explain a few things, so this chapter is a bonus, non-chronological chapter in the story. It is separated into items, as it follows the ‘5+1 Things’ model, spanning across several years. In item 1, Reader and Aemond are very young, around 4 and 6 respectively (and Aegon is around 10), whereas items 2, 3, 4 and 5 are set after chapter 1 of this story (think episodes 6 and 7 of season 1). Lastly, the last item is set in the middle of chapter 2.

I am having lots of fun writing for Aemond, so much so I have a few ideas for unrelated one-shots I plan on writing for him. Anyway, I really really hope you enjoy this!

Next chapter | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

1. Aegon Targaryen

As young children, wherever Aemond Targaryen was you were never too far behind. As the eldest of Rhaenyra Targaryen’s children, you were often regarded as a possible successor of your mother’s to the title of the Realm’s Delight, being soft and sweet and so very beautiful even from such a young age. There was no shortage of people wanting to gaze upon you, spoil you with attention and possibly win over the favor of the heir to the Iron Throne after King Viserys I. But there was only ever one person whose attention you truly craved.

With the birth of your younger brother Jace and your mother’s pregnancy with yet another child, your parents’ attention was naturally split. It wasn’t to say they neglected you or favored your brother above you, oh no, but it was only natural that you were no longer their sole focus, even more fickle given their duties at court. Your father in particular, Ser Laenor, tried to give you as much attention as he possibly could, but even then that was restricted to specific times of the day, mostly at supper and after. It was an adjustment, for sure, and for a little while you resented your little brother, but you were quick to find another source of the attention you craved somewhere else: your uncle Aemond. You couldn’t possibly know why, nor had you ever thought about it, but you were drawn to him in ways you could not explain. And the feeling seemed to be mutual.

Aemond Targaryen, as the second son of King Viserys and his fourth child, was most often overlooked by many in court. He wasn’t Rhaenyra, who held their father’s unconditional love, or Aegon, who carried the title of his first male child, and matters were made worse by the fact that his dragon egg had yet to hatch, whereas Aegon’s had done so when he was still pretty young, and Helaena had quickly claimed Dreamfyre. Even his mother, who once doted on him like never before, had lessened her attention over him, as her fourth pregnancy progressed and her affection usually leaned more towards her only daughter.

So when his little niece, barely old enough to attend lessons, had developed a fascination towards him and would often trail behind him wherever he went, he absolutely basked in the attention that was so freely given. You, who had no obligation to him other than to be cordial at best, gazing up at him with adoration in those innocent eyes made him cherish the moments you spend together.

It was only natural, then, that the two of you could often be found in each other’s presence. Whenever neither of you were having lessons and were left to your own devices, you seemed to always find each other, your tiny hand enveloped in Aemond’s not much bigger one as he pulled you behind him towards whatever destination he had in mind.

“Where we going, Aem?” your sweet voice, not yet able to properly speak his name, would often ask. The library, the dragonpit, the gardens, it didn’t truly matter as long as you were together.

Aem.

The nickname you had bestowed upon him was one of his deepest treasures. To everyone else he was either Aemond, son or brother, and two of these he had to share with other people, but to you, and to you alone, he was Aem. It was something so inherently his, something to share with you and only you. It reminded him of you, of the devotion and admiration you held for him, something no one else seemed to have for him, and he never wanted to let go of it.

But as he would be reminded time and time again he should never hope, nor should he wish for good things for himself, for they could be ripped from him at a moment’s notice.

The day had started out like any other: after your lessons you had quickly scrambled out of your quarters to find Aemond and spend the day together. He had decided, then, to take you to the training grounds to watch some of the knights train.

“See that one over there?” he pointed to a man, just barely out of adolescence, training with Criston Cole “That is Ser Arryk. Or could he be Erryk? It matters not, either way, both of them are really good. Ser Criston is training them to be the newest members of the Kingsguard.”

“Wow.” you sounded from next to him, mesmerized by the clash of the swords.

“Impressive, hm?” he then pointed to another man who was supervising the training “Ser Criston, over there, he is the best knight in all the realms. I hope to train under him and be as good as he is one day.”

He was eager to start training with the sword, like his older brother already did. His mother had promised him that he could start his own training after his next nameday, though it was still a few moons away, he was already eagerly waiting for that moment.

“You be amazing knight in future, Aem.” you turned towards him then, that look of pure reverence made warmth spread in his chest, for he felt your words were true.

“Aem?!” a familiar voice cackled behind the two of you, and Aemond could feel the cold dread seeping into his heart like it usually did when his brother decided to torment him.

Aegon marched over in your direction, almost an entire head taller than Aemond, and ruffled his younger brother’s hair with a tad more force than necessary.

“Oh, Aemy, you will be such an amazing knight one day.” he spoke in a poor imitation of your own voice, high pitched and overly sweet and dreamy. Your face was scrunched in anger and poorly contained humiliation, and had the two of you not been under scrutiny Aemond would have found it adorable.

“Aegon, stop it!” he tried defending the two of you but he couldn’t stop his own cheeks from lighting up in embarrassment.

“Aemy, oh, Aem. Perhaps our mothers will marry us off to one another and I can carry your children.” Aegon chuckled before flicking his brother on the forehead “You would surely want that, wouldn’t you, you twat?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. With a warcry unbefitting of a princess of the realm you delivered a sharp kick to Aegon’s shin, the only part of him you could really reach, before running off with tiny droplets streaming down your cheeks. Aemond tried going after you, holding your wrist, but you swatted his hand away and disappeared around the corner.

“She attacked me!” Aegon complained, voice strained from the intensity of the blow, utterly baffled at how something so small could carry so much strength.

“Oh, please!” Aemond pushed past his brother, annoyed, before stomping away towards his own quarters “It barely scratched. And you deserved it.”

For the next three days you ignored both of them, preferring to spend your days with Heleana. Whenever he asked about you, his mother would claim you didn’t wish for visitors and would rather stay in the company of your aunt. Aemond couldn’t deny that it stung, the only person he felt cared for him deeply, no longer wanting to spend time with him.

So he was overjoyed when, on the fourth day, you approached him as if nothing had ever happened, your expression light and smile bright as you held his hand.

“Where we going, uncle?” and his face fell, joy completely dissipating and giving way to sadness.

You refused to call him by his previous nickname after that day, opting to refer to him only as ‘uncle’ going forward, and Aemond felt an overwhelming longing for things to go back to the way they were. He couldn’t help the resentment he felt towards Aegon for ruining what you had, for he felt it in his bones that things between the two of you would never truly be the same again.

2. Jason Lannister

You were bored out of your very mind at the moment. You had zoned out completely and could barely hear the incessant droning of Jason Lannister’s voice in the background as you reflected upon your life at the moment.

After that night in the bathtub where you shared your very first kiss with your uncle, you feared things between the two of you would change, and change for the worse. You didn’t want that, cherishing what you had with Aemond, even if it never went anywhere beyond friendship. But you needn’t have worried so much, for both of you seemed adamant in not ever speaking of that night ever again. It did sting a little if you were being honest with yourself, but you preferred that over ruining what you had.

So you were very much looking forward to spending a few hours with him before lunch when you were intercepted by Ser Jason Lannister.

“You look wonderful today, my princess.” the man had smiled down at you.

“Uh, thank you, my lord.” you answered, confused as to what he could possibly want.

“Why don’t you give me the pleasure of going on a stroll with me around the gardens?”

You didn’t know why he wanted to take a stroll with you of all people. And to be fair you didn’t want to spend more time than necessary in his presence. What you did want was to find Aemond and spend your day with him. But something, a strange sense of propriety and duty, held you back and you found yourself agreeing with his proposal.

That’s how you ended in the current situation, arm looped with his as he droned on and on and on about himself and his wealth and his castle and many other topics you couldn’t care less about.

In your reverie you hadn’t even realized you had reached the training grounds until Aemond, who had just finished his training session with Ser Criston, smiled and waved at you as he was putting a wooden shield away. You were about to wave back when Ser Jason’s voice pulled your attention back to him once more.

“Well, princess, this is where we must part ways, unfortunately.” he gave a small bow of his head before letting go of your arm “The maesters say it is good to keep active, so I will go see if I can find a sparring partner.”

You barely spared him a courtesy as Aemond was already by your side, ready to whisk you away.

“What was that all about?” he asked when you were already halfway to the library, a sense of unease pulling at his heartstrings once he remembered the way your arm was linked with the older lord.

“I do not know for sure.” you shrugged “I barely paid attention to what he was saying. Something about his riches I believe, we just went on a walk around the Keep.”

He laughed then, though it lacked any mirth, and his smile no longer reached his eyes.

“What is it?”

“You are so naïve, niece.” he explained.

“And why is that?” you questioned, feeling slightly offended.

“He wishes to court you.”

Your disgust at the thought must have been reflected very clearly upon your face, for he let out a full, genuine laugh this time.

“B-But- why?!” you tried collecting your thoughts, flabbergasted by such revelation “He is so…”

“Arrogant? Boring? Plain? All of the above?” Aemond completed for you, jesting at the situation.

“Old!” you whined and he laughed even harder at your expanse “I mean it! He is older than my own father!” you got closer to him to whisper conspiratorially at him “I heard he courted mother when she was looking for a husband, and he was already considered too old for her at the time.”

His laughter echoed around the halls, a few servants stopping to stare at the two of you, dumbfounded at the way you seemed to be able to bring the usually stoic prince out of his shell.

“But why does he wish to court me? Why not some other, older, lady?” you asked, still confused.

“Well, you are not just any lady, mandianna. You are a princess.” he explained, though his words seemed practiced, like they were reflections of not his own thoughts but those of other people “Any lord would jump at the opportunity to wed you. Chances are, in fact, that more suitors will start to flock around you for attention as you grow.”

“Ugh!” your shoulders slumped under the weight of your frustration “I do not wish to marry these lords!” you threw your hands up in exasperation “I just wish to spend my days with you and Helaena! Why can I not just marry you, then?!”

He felt a twinge too tight of happiness at the notion, but chose to ignore it and listen as you continued with your rant.

“If I were to marry one of these lords I would be miserable!”

His face softened in sympathy, remembering the conversation he overheard between his mother and grandsire regarding Aegon and Heleana’s betrothal. He felt pained for his sister, for he knew Aegon would not treat her how she deserved, and now he was seeing the same pattern with you.

“It is our duty, I fear, to find matches that best interest our House.” he spoke softly, but you turned towards him infuriated, and he feared he said the wrong thing.

“But I do not want to marry for duty!” his heart clenched in his chest as he noticed your eyes brimming with tears “I want a husband who loves and cares for me, like father and mother!”

He held back his tongue, knowing that speaking his mind about the kind of love between your parents, or lack thereof, would only upset you further. There was no denying that Ser Laenor cared deeply for Rhaenyra, just not in the way a husband should a wife.

The both of you stayed quiet for a moment, you simmering in your unsettled thoughts and him disappointed he couldn’t comfort you further, for this was something that was out of his hands.

“I would not mind, you know?” he heard you speak softly, turning his head to find you already looking at him.

“What?”

“Marrying you.” you smiled softly at him “At least with you I would be content. I could see us being happy, even.”

Your words were a soothing balm over his heart, making it clench in his chest. He, too, did find the notion appealing, he could be happy with you, hells, you already made him happy.

“If it matters,” he spoke, trying to hide his true feelings behind a layer of nonchalance “I would not mind marrying you either.”

Your smile brightened then, and you bumped your shoulder with his.

“One can dream, right?” you giggled, before sighing once a servant came to fetch you to clean up before lunch, annoyed that your time with him had been cut short.

But as you walked away an idea formed in his mind, and with a determination he hadn’t felt in a really long time, he set off to find his half-sister.

3. Alicent Hightower

“No.” the Queen’s voice was harsh, and Aemond’s heart filled with dread as he peaked from his hiding place behind a pillar in her solar. He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop but his traitorous heart was too anxious to wait.

“Come on, your grace.” Rhaenyra answered, clearly annoyed, a hand placed on her very pregnant stomach and another on her lower back, as if standing here arguing was bringing her physical discomfort “The boy came to me, begging for her hand in marriage, all that was left was for him to fall to his knees. She herself has asked about the possibility of marrying him once. They are the perfect match!”

After your conversation earlier that day, Aemond had set off to find Rhaenyra and ask, no, beg her to allow him to court and eventually marry you. She had laughed in his face, and he tried not to show how her dismissal wounded his pride, until her face softened once she realized he was serious.

“Please, sister.” he had even stooped so low as to address their familial bond, no matter how sour the word tasted in his mouth “Allow me to marry her. As her husband, she would want for nothing, I would protect her with my very life. And I could even… make her happy.”

Rhaenyra’s face softened then, for the first time realizing how much her little brother truly cared for her daughter. She had known the two of you were close, but the depth of your feelings for one another was only now being revealed to her. So she promised him she would speak with his own mother, and if Alicent agreed, then so would she. Aemond’s heart had plummeted then, knowing it would be a lot harder getting through his mother. But he wouldn’t give up hope.

But hope, it seemed, was not enough.

“No, and my answer is final.” Alicent moved about, trying to get Rhaenyra to leave and go bother someone else.

“Alicent,” even though she had her back towards him, Aemond could imagine the tick in his mother’s eye at the informal way Rhaenyra was addressing her “All I am asking is that you consider it.”

“Why do you even think they would be a good match for one another?”

“Oh, by the Gods, Alicent! Can you not see how much they care for each other? The amount of time they spend together? They are practically glued at the hip at this point!” Rhaenyra threw her hands up in exasperation, and Aemond could see yourself so perfectly in your mother’s image “I will just ask my father then.”

“Do not entertain that idea even for a moment!” Alicent’s voice became shrill as she glared at her former friend “What is this even about, hm? Are you so afraid that child” and she pointed at Rhaneyra’s prominent bump “will be born sooner or later bearing a striking resemblance to a certain commander of the City Watch once more that you resort to this… this scheming? To secure your line of succession, is that it?”

Ouch. That was low, even for Alicent’s standards.

Rhaenyra’s face hardened as she stepped closer to the Queen, and for a moment fear gripped Aemond’s heart that he was about to witness his mom get battered.

“My brother, your own son” she spat out, genuinely angry now “begged me to let him marry my daughter when they are older. He promised me he would be a good husband, and for once in my life I am inclined to believe him.” her face softened then, raising her hands as if to grab Alicent’s but let them drop, thinking better than to try and touch her “Please, your grace. If there is still any care left in your heart for the love we once held for one another, please let me do this for him.”

Aemond waited with bated breath for his mother to say something, anything. For once in his life he allowed himself to hope; he’d give up everything, even his dream of having a dragon of his own, just so she’d say yes. But the longer she went without saying anything, the deeper the cracks in his heart became.

“I will not be able to change your mind, will I?” Rhaenyra asked, her face contorting in sympathy, and when Alicent shook her head, breaking his heart in a thousand tiny little pieces in the process, she sighed “Then I feel sorry for Aemond. For both of them.”

As Rhaenyra left the Queen’s solar, Aemond took his leave as well, his heart shattered and a weight heavy on his stomach, regretting even going to his half-sister in the first place. It seemed you and he could never be after all.

4. Rhaenyra Targaryen

Tears streamed down your face as you ran through the cold tunnels of Maegor’s Holdfast, not caring even for a moment that you were only dressed in a nightgown. The news you had just heard from your father regarding your mother’s decision weighed heavily in your heart, and you had to share them with your uncle immediately. It couldn’t wait until the morrow, because come first light you might be gone.

“Hells, niece, will you ever learn to knock?” Aemond had turned towards you once you barged inside his chambers through the secret door, freezing once he noticed the state you were in. He was in front of you in a second, holding your cheeks in his palms and forcing you to look at him “What happened?”

Even though his image was blurred by the tears that kept on rolling down your cheeks, barely noticing when he started collecting them with his thumbs, you could perfectly see the concern etched upon his features, and that was all it took for you to release the sobs you had been holding back, falling into his arms and hiccuping against his shoulder.

“Mandianna, what happened?!” he asked, holding your trembling figure in his arms and awkwardly trying to console you, running a gentle hand up and down your back. He had never seen you in such a state before, and he did not truly know how to help, much less without knowing the cause of your distress.

Once you had calmed down enough, your wails reduced to soft sniffles, you pulled back from him, running the back of your hand through your face to try and look more presentable.

“Mother has decided to move us to Dragonstone.”

Aemond’s breath hitched then.

“What?” he whispered, taking a step back from you.

“Father just told me. We are to leave King’s Landing come first light in the morrow.”

He felt his whole world crumbling before his very eyes then. He believed his heart could no longer face more damage, for it had already been broken when he overheard his mother and Rhaenyra’s conversation a sennight before, but he felt it shatter all over again at your words.

“C-Can you not stay behind?” With me?, he wanted to ask as his own eyes started filling with tears.

“I asked, but father says we are all to go. Me, Jace, Luke and baby Joffrey.”

His heart was beating widely in his chest, twisting painfully at the prospect of having to face everyday at court without you to keep him company, to keep him sane.

“We can write, of course, but-” you started, voice still trembling.

“It will not be the same.” he completed for you.

It was true, wasn’t it? Things were about to change. On one hand he wouldn’t have to face the teasing from Jace and Luke, just Aegon, the main instigator. But on the other hand he would lose you, which was so much worse.

But then he noticed how your lower lip had started quivering again and realized he had put quite a lot of distance between the two of you. Not wanting you to jump to the wrong conclusions he crossed the space he had created and cupped your cheeks, looking sternly into your eyes.

“It does not change anything.”

“Aemond-” you looked at him with sympathy and disbelief but he wasn’t having it.

“No. It does not change anything between us.” he spoke, determined “I will write to you every single day, and I expect a response every time. It will be like you never left. You can fly on dragonback and come visit. And when I get my dragon, I will visit you in return.”

Your smile, although tentative and still wobbly, returned to your face and he felt relief wash through him.

“You said so yourself, the lines promised me I will have a dragon.” he rejoiced at hearing you giggle “I have to make good use of them when time comes.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you. Something in your eye, glimmering with a blazing hope, compelled Aemond to lean forward, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he took everything in.

“We will still be the same.” he felt you move, nodding against his head, never once moving away “We will still be us.”

And even though, or perhaps exactly because neither of you could prevent the events that would unfold in the following weeks, both of you believed it with every ounce of your souls.

5. Aemond Targaryen

“Aemond.” you knocked once more, your knuckles red and starting to ache from their incessant contact with the hard wood “Qȳbor, please open the door.”

He hadn’t left his temporary chambers in days, and no one would let you see him. After the whole ordeal with Vhagar and the fight between your two mothers in the grand hall at Driftmark after the loss of his eye, Aemond was whisked away to the quarters he was stationed at during his stay so the maesters could work properly on his wound and for him to sleep off the copious amounts of milk of the poppy he had been given.

Having talked to your brothers and cousins and understood what had gone down, you started feeling a tad guilty for the way you reacted to it. Yes, you were still hurt over what he had said about your brothers and, by extension, you. But at the same time you had let him go when he was the most vulnerable, he had just lost an eye for the Gods’ sake. And yet, even though you were hurting, so was he, he needed you and yet you let go and ran from him.

So you had decided you needed to talk. Perhaps, if you apologized for Luke’s actions and your own behavior, he’d offer an apology of his own, for calling your brothers bastards and for not extending Rhaena the courtesy of trying to claim her late mother’s dragon before him. Then, having cleared the air, you could move past this and go back to the way things were, with exchanged letters and promises of visiting one another.

But your attempts seemed futile. There was always a guard stationed in front of his door, denying you entrance every single time you asked. Even though they were stern, hardened by their training, you tried using your authority as princess to order them to let you through, but to no such luck.

“Apologies, princess.” they would say, a smidge of sympathy and annoyance in their tone “The prince is to receive no visitors. Orders from her grace, the Queen.”

Panic was starting to grip at your heart, for your time was running out. Eventually, as soon as Aemond was recovered enough to travel, King Viserys and his family would leave Driftmark and return to King’s Landing. By then it would be too late. If you didn’t speak to him now, you would lose Aemond forever. That is, if you hadn’t already lost him for good. You had to speak to him, and it had to be soon, otherwise he’d leave and you would lose the one person you cared most in the world, who understood you like no one else, and would be left to drown in your own loneliness.

So you started scheming. You waited around the corridor of his chambers, waiting for rotation of the guard so you could catch his door unattended. You almost managed once, but Queen Alicent opened the door to exit the room, stopping dead in her tracks once she came face to face with you, about to knock.

“Your grace!” you were quick to recompose yourself “I came to visit the prince. I wish to see if he is faring well.”

You winced, instantly regretting your choice of words once her face hardened. Of course he wasn’t faring well, he just lost his bloody eye!

“Aemond is not receiving any visitors.” her voice was harsh, and dread overcame you as she started to walk away.

“Wait!” she stopped but didn’t turn around to face you as you pleaded “I just- I just want to see him.”

When she did turn her features were laced with a combination of disdain and pity. It stirred something so deep inside you you almost recoiled and ran, but you decided to endure.

“He doesn’t wish to see anyone, princess.” she spoke, her tone stern yet motherly. But the implications of her words were not lost on you.

He doesn’t wish to see you.

It hurt, tears brimming in your eyes as you turned around and headed for your chambers.

Did he truly not wish to see you? Or did he just wish for solitude, away from everyone? Could your friendship still be mended after both of you had been hurt like this?

It didn’t matter, afterall, for you were determined to try until the very end.

That’s how you found yourself in front of his door, finally alone with him, having waited patiently for the guard’s rotation and making sure his mother wasn’t around. It was his final night in Driftmark before he was set to return to the capitol, and so this was your last, final chance to talk to him before that.

There was a light flickering inside his chambers, visible from under the door, so you knew he likely wasn’t asleep, and when you had knocked for the first time, you heard a thud coming from inside, like he had bumped into some furniture, so you believed he had listened to you. But no matter how many times you knocked, he wouldn’t open it, nor give any indication that he was listening.

“Aemond, please.” you tried again “Please, let us talk.”

The longer you went without an answer, the tighter the knot that was forming in your throat became. Growing desperate, you laid your forehead on the cold, damp wood.

“Please.” you breathed out, not even sure he could hear you now “Talk to me, Aemond. Please.”

For a moment, a short, passing moment, you heard a flutter of movement from inside the room. Your breath hitched, a tiny flicker of unadulterated hope burning in your chest that he had heard you and was coming to talk. But it was quickly snuffed out when you heard nothing else follow.

A deep ache took over your chest, like something had dug its claws in your heart and squeezed. The inevitability of it all, the looming sense of grief over something so close yet impossibly far, out of your grasp completely, clouded your mind and had your ears ringing.

“I am sorry.” you said, taking a step back and turning around to leave “For everything.”

As you walked away you couldn’t help but feel like a part of you was missing. For you had just lost him for good. Perhaps forever.

As you brushed off your skirts, having been sat on the grass by the weirwood tree, you set off to find your mother, determination written across your features.

You nearly ran into Luke as you walked briskly, sending a thankful look to Rhaena as she helped you steady him.

“Where are you off to in such a rush?” Jace asked as he came up behind your brother at the same time you bypassed him and Baela and continued on your way.

“To secure myself a husband!” you shouted over your shoulder, not even turning back around to address them. Now all that was left was to find your mother.

And search for her you did. It was imperative that you found her quickly, for you wanted to make sure you did this tonight. It had to be tonight. No one knew how much longer the King would live, and the moment he drew his final breath, a war would break out within your family. A war that would ravage all of the Seven Kingdoms. So you had to make sure that didn’t happen while your grandire was still alive and lucid enough to give you his full support.

But Rhaenyra was nowhere to be found. The Keep was huge and there was a probability that you were both on the move and simply never crossing paths. You even stumbled upon Helaena during your search as she tended to her youngest son, Maelor.

“Have you seen my mother, aunt?” you asked after a brief and sweet exchange, though you did not hug her like you would Baela and Rhaena, for you knew she did not like to be touched.

“I have not, niece.” she bounced baby Maelor in her arms as he cooed up at her “Why are you in such a haste to find her, if I might ask?”

“I have something of utmost importance to discuss with her.” you smirked as you added next, and by the glimmer in her eyes she understood the hidden meaning of your words “I believe I have found myself a suitable husband and must ask her to arrange our betrothal as soon as possible.”

“Oh!” she smiled brightly then “So we might be celebrating tonight.”

To your surprise and confusion, her smile faltered just a bit, her eyes becoming unfocused, before she smiled brightly again.

“With a union forged in fire and blood, the dragon’s nest is put to rest.”

You dared not question her, for Helaena often spoke in riddles, even in your youth. Biding her farewell you went back to your task. You didn’t have to search long though, for you quite literally bumped into your mother and Daemon right as you were turning down the corridor from Helaena’s chambers.

“Mother!” you exclaimed as you helped Daemon steady a once again very pregnant Rhaenyra “There you are!”

“You were looking for me, darling?” she asked.

“Yes.” you cleared your throat, squaring your shoulders “I wish for a husband.”

That seemed to take both of them by surprise, their eyes widening.

“O-Oh!” she smiled then, still confused where this was coming from “And did you have someone in mind?”

“I wish to take Aemond as my husband.”

“Darling.” her face softened in pity as Daemon scoffed “You know the Queen would never allow this union.”

“That’s not all, mother. I think I may have found a way neither she nor the Hand could refuse.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged a curious glance with one another.

“Let us hear it then.” your step-father encouraged.

“I want Aemond as my husband.” you took a steadying breath, knowing you’d have to argue the next part “And I want him to be King.”

“Absolutely not!” was Daemon’s reaction, while your mother just looked… betrayed. And it broke your heart. You knew what she was thinking, she had just reaffirmed you as her heir, had to fight for it, and you now want to pass that off to someone else entirely?

“Please allow me to explain.”

“Why would you suggest such a thing?! To that cunt, of all people!” Daemon kept on raging, but his words were abruptly cut short as Rhaenyra raised her hand.

“Let her speak.” her tone was firm, and you knew you had to choose your next words carefully to plead your case.

“Word has come to me of a… plot against you as King Viserys’ heir.” her face twitched in anger for just a moment “The Queen and the Hand will try to instate Aegon as King once grandsire passes.”

“What is new?” Daemon laughed, incredulous.

“And the noble houses would back his claim.” you explained “Many will not recognize you as the legitimate heir-”

“But-” your mother tried cutting you off but you continued over her.

“-regardless of the oath they swore years ago. Simply because Aegon has a cock and you do not.” you hated how crass you sounded, but you had to get the point across “And then a bloody civil war would break out, for you would not let this go unpunished, am I wrong?”

Rhaenyra pondered for a moment before nodding, and you took that as a sign to continue.

“A war between us, dragonlords, would absolutely decimate not only our House but also the realm. But a marriage alliance between me, your heir and future Queen, and my uncle might just make them give up on this quest.”

“Otto would never settle for his blood being just consort.” Daemon argued.

“That is why he would not be consort.” you smirked, the catch you were waiting to reveal slipping from your lips.

“You shouldn’t give up your claim and be consort either!” your mother exclaimed.

“I would not do such a thing. I would be the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Both of them looked baffled.

“Now you have lost me.” she said.

“When the time comes, both me and Aemond would be crowned Queen and King, and we would rule together as equals. No consorts.”

Rhaenyra took a step back from surprise, and Daemon looked like he was told the realm’s funniest joke.

“You cannot be serious, tala!” he chuckled, but there was an undertone of disbelief to it.

“It could work.” your mother spoke to herself.

“Rhaenyra, you cannot be entertaining this ridiculous idea!” Daemon turned towards her then, wringing his hands as if to stop himself from grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking some sense into her “It is not tradition!”

“Fuck tradition!” you exclaimed a lot more harshly than you intended, and probably a lot harsher than it was appropriate.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough.

“You being heir over Aegon already breaks tradition as it is. Like I said, many will not see you as legitimate. But even if they do, and you are able to rule, the same thing would happen to me and Jace. But will you make all the great houses swear another oath to you?” Rhaneyra understood where you were going with this “Having a husband to back me up as heir, to rule alongside me, would give me strength in my own claim. If you are already breaking traditions, what is one more, eh?”

“You might want to keep your voice down.” Daemon spoke lowly, and you noticed he was staring at someone “The walls have ears in this Keep.”

From the corner of your eye you saw a familiar figure, and in a moment of panic, grabbed your mother’s hand and pulled her towards the temporary chambers you were housed in. You did not want Aemond to overhear what you had to say, fearful that should anyone hear about this ahead of time it would all crumble to shambles. As Daemon joined you two, shortly after, you continued.

“Please, please mother! Think about it. It might be the only way.”

Rhaenyra was silent. While Daemon looked vexed, but made no further complaints, she looked deep in thought. You knew she knew you were right. She just had to see it for herself.

“It would be easier to convince them if we had the King’s approval. That is why we need to do this tonight, at supper.”

Daemon bristled but didn’t say anything. Your mother on the other hand agreed, even if she believed this was all very rushed.

“Would you be happy though?” she then asked, and it was your turn to be surprised “Marrying Aemond? After everything that has happened?”

You looked between her and Daemon, and for once in your life you were certain of what you wanted.

“Aemond has always been kind to me. Or most of the time, at least.” you shrugged “I believe, with due time, we could put our differences aside and rebuild what we once had. Perhaps even learn to love each other.”

Again, you meant. Learn to love each other again. At least in your case.

“Then it is settled.” she looked determined “We will pitch this proposition tonight.”

A wave of relief washed over you. This could work, genuinely actually work. Perhaps it didn’t have to end in bloodshed like you believed it would. Maybe your family could be whole again. And all of that at the cost of marrying the one you had longed for deeply in your heart once.

“He asked for your hand once, you know.” Rhaenyra broke you out of your trance, a soft smile on her face and a far away look in her eyes, as if she was reminiscing on a fond memory. Daemon had left at some point, leaving you both alone to share this conversation, too deep and personal for anyone else to hear, in private “Right before we left for Dragonstone.”

Your heart clenched in your chest at the revelation. He had wished to marry you as well?

“He said he could make you happy. And I believed him.” she then looked at you, cupping your cheek as pride took over her smile “I believe it still.”

You grasped at her wrist, feeling warm at the love you could feel it emanating from her.

“If you believe you could be happy as well,” she continued “then you have my blessing. That is all I want.”

You nodded, blinking back tears.

“I do. I will be very happy.”

She nodded then, pulling you into her arms. In the safety of your mother’s embrace, you finally let yourself relax. Your fate was yours to shape how you saw fit, and you intended to make the most of it.

And you would.

High Valyrian translations: - mandianna - niece (older sister’s son or daughter) - qȳbor - uncle (mother’s younger brother) - tala - daughter (meant here affectionately, not by blood, as there are no terms for step-relative in High Valyrian)

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