#but I did play sapphire as a kid and so did my sister

[aranarumei]

wait. in the actual ruby/sapphire/emerald games, is norman like. not an absent father?

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate

Azrielx Archeron Oc

A/N- happy day 4 of my week celebrating over 100 new friends 💙 here is the winning poll piece with Azriel and our little Archeron OC, Kaylee. This mostly takes place pre-hybern and the Cauldron, but expect a turn at the end. This is a little bit of a Rollercoaster because I love the idea of Az and Kaylee going into her being made already kind of courting.

Summary - After her older sister returns home with 3 males in tow, Kaylee finds her life turn upside down by one of them. She is unknowingly drawn to the scarred male, and he to her.

Less fun Warnings - mentions of death and child loss (nothing graphic just in a healing house sense), mentions of SA, angst. Kidnapping

The fun warnings - smut, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, dom/sub dynamics (because what kind of Az fic doesn't pay into bdsm?), innocent oc, one use of impact play

Word count - around 3866

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

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The first time Azriel came, Feyre and Kaylee held eye contact, communicating silently. Her older sister had brought 3 men, males, she corrected herself, into their home, and now, she sat next to the one who had pretty blue gems. She supposed he was pretty, too.

If you liked your partner to quite possibly be able to kill you with their bare teeth.

And Kaylee supposed, again, that she maybe did. She looked at him before looking at Feyre and then went back to poking at her food.

When she went to bed that night, locked in her room alone by Nesta's orders, Kaylee could have sworn she saw a shadow move before something cool danced in hair and laced between her fingers.

On his second visit, Azriel found himself looking for Kaylee. He had bought something for her at a jewelry shop, without any inkling as to why. He held the small box containing the pretty raw sapphire necklace as he entered her room at the estate.

He froze at the sight of her. Her long sandy blonde hair was damp, she was wrapped in a soft fluffy robe. She was sitting at her vanity, frozen as she stared back at him. "Aren't you supposed to be dropping a letter off to Nesta?" Her voice reminded him of summer rain. It had played in his mind constantly the past couple weeks.

"I did. I was hoping to see you." He smiled as a flush instantly hit her face, gracing her cheekbones. "Only if that is okay, though. Nesta and Elain do not know I snunk up here." Kaylee nodded. She motioned for him to join her in the room, and he sat on her bed. The smell of jasmine and vanilla hit him instantly. Expensive, a shadow whispered. "How is the healing house?"

Kaylee smiled as she turned to him, running an oil through her long beautiful hair. Soft, another shadow whispered. "It's been okay. Lots of kids this week with colds and allergies. Poor little things."

"Do you want kids someday?" The question was out before Azriel could stop himself. "Sorry I-"

"With the right person, yes." Kaylee answered without hesitation. "But only if Feyre likes them. Which I guess gives me my short lifetime to find someone." Azriel felt his heart deflate at the reminder. Human, a shadow whispered. She is just human.

Azriel stood as she turned back to the mirror, keeping the box behind his back and he approached her. "Hold your hair up for me, Kaylee." She watched him from the mirror but did as he asked. "I bought this for you. I thought I couldn't help but to think of it with your eyes when I saw it." She allowed him access to her neck without fear as she watched him. His hands were shaking from his nerves as he placed the delicate necklace on her and closed the latch.

He couldn't help himself as he reached behind her, positioning the stone so it sat perfectly centered above her breasts. "Beautiful," he whispered to her softly. "Absolutely beautiful."

On his third visit, Azriel wasn't even supposed to technically be there. He had been trying to get into the Mortal Queen's Castle. During his flight, he was struck with an arrow. It wasn't ash, wasn't laced with faebane, but he took advantage of the injury nonetheless, using it as an excuse to see Kaylee. He was currently sat on her vanity stool, shirtless, as she cleaned the wound. "I don't know much about fae healing. It looks like it's already closing, though."

Azriel chuckled. "It probably is. I just wanted an excuse to see you." He laughed again as her face flushed and she smacked him on the shoulder. "Can you blame a male for wanting a pretty girl to tend to his injuries?"

Kaylee shook her head smiling before moving to clean the barely there cut on his face. "You are a shameless flirt, Azriel."

"Only when it comes to you, honeybee." He adjusted the sapphire necklace, smiling slightly. "How are you?"

Kaylee shrugged. "Nesta and Cassian got into it today when he stopped by. The energy of the house has been off since then. It's just a heavy feeling?" She looked at him, hoping he understood what she meant and he nodded. "How are you?"

"I was shot with an arrow today, Kaylee. I too have had better days." She couldn't help but to laugh at the statement, her head falling into his shoulder. He'd do anything to hear her laugh, to see her smile. "I did get to see you. So that does make up for it." She pulled back slightly, her face near his. The cut was long gone, the wound in his side had closed and all that was left was a faint pink mark.

Az, a familiar purr came into his mind. Where are you?

Almost to the wall. I'll be home soon. Azriel locked Rhysand out, his hand absent-mindedly moving to Kaylee's face.

Neither of them know if he moved in, or if she did, but one second there was a breath of air between them, the next, there was nothing but his lips on hers. Moving together as he pulled her closer between his legs and her hands came to rest on his chest.

It felt like, for once, something good was in his pathway. Something whole and pure. He pulled away from her, instantly missing the taste of honey and green tea that lingered on her, and rested his forehead against hers. "I have to go, Rhys is calling for me."

Kaylee just nodded. "Was that your way of saying goodbye?" Azriel nodded. "We should always say goodbye like that then."

"Agreed."

Azriel's third visit was spent mapping out the house. He had not seen Kaylee since his last stop, but a small box sat heavy in his pocket waiting for the moment Nesta was done with him so he could see her.

"The last room is Kay's," the oldest sister glared at him. "She might be in there, so if she is, do not speak with her and leave her alone." Azriel nodded. "She's had a rough week."

Azriel opened the door, closing it behind him when he found the mortal who haunted his every waking moment curled in a ball on her bed. Crying. Lost someone. The shadow he had trailing her told him. Little one.

Azriel sat on her bed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Kaylee." She was instantly in his arms, crying harder as he held her against him. He adjusted slightly so she'd be in his lap, then pulled the box out and set it on her night stand. "It's okay, honeybee."

"It's not fair," and Azriel knew it wasn't. The shadow had finished filling him in. "He didn't even have a chance." He shushed her softly, pulling her in tighter. "It's just not fair."

"I know, Kaylee. I know. The loss of a babe is never fair, nor easy." They held each other in silence until her sobs became soft sniffles. Asleep. Likes to cuddle with the otter on the corner of the bed. We snuggle it every night. Azriel could have laughed at his shadows' confession. He laid Kaylee down, tucking her into the bed and handing her the otter. He watched as the shadow he had unknowingly lost to her weaved between her fingers and almost nestled into her. Ours, it whispered.

He kissed her lips gently and whispered a goodbye to her, leaving a quickly scribbled note with the box.

His fourth visit wasn't fun, nor did it allow him much time with her. He watched as Nesta fixed Kaylee's long soft waves, dissatisfied with the looks of her youngest sister.

They all had told the sisters how beautiful they looked, only for Nesta to back hand the compliment to Kaylee. "Had someone been home earlier, she'd look better."

There's nothing fucking wrong with her, Rhysand growled into the link he, Cassian, and Azriel were sharing. What is Nesta's fucking problem with her younger siblings?

From what my shadows caught, Kaylee did not get home until almost an hour ago. Something happened last night and she was pulled from bed.

That explains the medicine smell on her skin still. Cassian said softly. I think she looks fine. She looks extra glowy in that shade of blue, wouldn't you say, Azriel?

Ah yes, Rhysand said. With that clearly fae made jewelry. Admit you're courting her, Brother. We do not care..

Azriel slammed them out, moving to Kaylee as Nesta tried to force her younger sister to let her tie her hair up in braids. "Enough. She looks fine." He pulled Kaylee back to the wall by him and Cassian. They shared a silent look between them. He smiled as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, exposing the sapphire earrings he had purchased her.

Kaylee whispered quietly, "They're late." Cassian shrugged, trying to hide his annoyance. Kaylee jumped as a male suddenly appeared before her, guards and the queens winnowing in. Her hand had grabbed Azriel's, and he had protectively pulled the youngest sister behind him, almost handing her to Cassian with a growl. They did not get to kiss goodbye on that visit. An action Azriel would fly back soon to fix.

He had flown back a week later, sneaking into her room using the balcony door, and waited for her on her bed. He had not noticed her bathroom light was on. he was just anxiously waiting, mind in his own world. "Oh Gods! Azriel! You have to stop sneaking up on me." His gaze shot up and instantly widened.

Kaylee was standing there in her towel. Her long legs exposed to him, her upper chest exposed to him. "I-" he shut his mouth as quickly as he opened it and looked away.

"Is everything okay?" Kaylee moved closer to him until she was right in front of him. "Are you okay?"

He swallowed thickly, eyes locked on her toned thighs. "You are naked."

"Do fae not bathe naked? You all just leave your clothing on? Are you all ever naked?" He smirked at the question and bit at the bait she had tossed out.

"I'm naked when I bathe, Kaylee. I spend a lot of time naked actually." She hummed softly, tucking the end of her towel into itself. "Everything is fine, by the way. I just had a night off and thought I'd spend it seeing you." Kaylee nodded and smiled. "I figured we could maybe talk, or-" he trailed off, eyes on her legs again.

"Ooooor?" He shook his head. "Or what, Azriel?"

He swallowed again. "I will be honest. I forgot every idea I had once I realized you were naked."

Kaylee was debating something. Finally making her choice she dropped the towel, crawling into his lap, bare to him. "Does my nakedness bother you?" Azriel groaned, instantly switching their positions so she was below him.

He growled at her slightly parted lips before diving into them and kissing her deeply. His hands began to roam, going up from her waist to her breasts and squeezing the tender flesh. He devoured her moans, groaning in response as her legs fell wider apart to allow him more space. He moved his lips from hers, kissing down her neck, then biting into the pulse point softly.

Kaylee was responsive to him, to his every touch, lick, and kiss. He felt as if he were a sex God at how the littlest things he did seemed to be magic to her. "You are so beautiful. You know that?" He whispered into her ear before lightly biting it. She doesn't, the shadow said. She doesn't believe you. Azriel lifted her from the bed, pulling them in front of her full length floor mirror and stationed himself behind her. He continued kissing her neck and shoulders, hands playing with her nipples as she turned to hide her face in his neck.

Her skin was on fire with every touch of his hands, only to be instantly cooled by his shadows. "So fucking beautiful," Azriel groaned into her neck. "Look at yourself in the mirror and say you're beautiful."

His hands roamed lower and lower, finger tips leaving goosebumps in their wake as he continued to kiss her neck. "Az-"

"I gave you an order, little one," he bit harshly at her pulse point, soaking in her gasp and moan. "I expect you to follow it."

Kaylee's eyes rolled back as she moaned again. "Look in the mirror and say you are beautiful." Kaylee pulled back from him slightly, holding eye contact with him before realizing he was serious. "Do it or I stop. I will leave you here wet and alone, Kaylee. I only play with good girls."

She whimpered softly. His hand came up to grip her jaw, turning her face to look into the mirror. He had her spread out to him, his other large hand splayed on her lower stomach and public mound. "How can you see this beautiful body, those eyes, those legs, every fucking day and not realize how beautiful you are? Say. It."

Kaylee swallowed thickly as he watched her. "I'm beautiful," Azriel's hand on her chin moved to her throat, gripping gently. His other hand moved lower again, cupping her sex as he groaned at the feeling of her dripping for him.

"Again." He commanded.

"I'm beautiful," a single finger moved through her folds, gathering wetness.

"Again, honeybee."

"I'm beautiful." Azriel pushed his finger into her tight entrance, rewarding her obedience. "Fuck, Az." He slowly pulled it out, pushing it back in again. Watching her watch him.

"Look at how pretty you look right now with your cunt swallowing my finger." She blushed instantly at his words, moaning as he curled the digit into a spot she had never found before. "Such a pretty cunt, Kaylee." He slipped a second finger in, the stretch almost burning as Kaylee moaned. "Has anyone else played with you, beautiful? Or is this tight little hole all mine?" He knew immediately based on the blush and smirked. "Say red if you want to stop at any point, baby."

His fingers began moving inside of her as he continued to force her to watch. He was opening and closing them like scissors, curling them into that spot teasingly, pulling them out just to push them back in so slowly. "You smell so fucking divine, baby. I bet you taste like heaven." He growled in her ear as she tried to look at him. He ripped his fingers from her, smacking her soaked cunt lightly. He delighted in the squeal that left her throat followed by a whine. "Eyes stay on the mirror." He pushed his fingers back in, palm grazing the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. "Follow my rules and I will reward you, Kaylee. Break them and I will have to teach you some lessons. Am I understood?"

"Yes," she nodded as best she could with the hand still holding her throat.

"Yes sir," he corrected her.

"Yes sir." He nodded and began to pleasure her again, shadows moving in play with her peaked nipples. A heat Kaylee had rarely experienced in her self exploration began to build in her stomach. A coil was tightening and building quickly as she moaned more and more. Azriel was smirking watching her, feeling her walls fluttering around his fingers. "Az," she lost her thoughts as he put pressure on her clit again.

"I know, Kaylee. I can tell. Do you want to cum? Want to soak my hand like a good girl?" She began nodding eagerly. "Do you deserve to?"

"Yes sir." She answered instantly. A smile bloomed on his face. "Please?"

"Tell me why you deserve to cum."

"Because I was good, and I listened-" She moaned loudly as his fingers began constantly curling into that spot, his palm constantly running over her clit. "Sir. Please."

"Tell me one last time what I want to hear."

"I'm beautiful."

"Yes you are, baby. Cum for me." Kaylee finished stunningly. Her back arching slightly as her hips began to ride his hand. Her lips parted in a silent scream as that coil snapped. Azriel watched in bliss, eyes wide as hers squeezed shut and her cunt pulsed around his fingers, soaking them like he had predicted.

He slowed his movements, riding her high out gently as he whispered praise in her ear. He slowly removed his fingers from her but forced her to watch him in the mirror again. He put them in his mouth, the feral being inside of him growling at the taste of her pleasure and essence. He sucked and licked his fingers clean, maintaining eye contact with her. "Heaven." He confirmed before turning her in his arms. "You taste like heaven."

She fell asleep in his arms that night, his naked body pressed tight against hers. She had stopped before it went too far, wanting to wait to cross that line fully once they had looked into fae and human couplings more. Azriel had played with her hair before falling asleep as well.

He had relectantly drug himself out of her bed, only waking her to kiss her goodbye as the sun began to rise.

The next visit was silent and tense. "How long has she been missing?" Cassian asked softly. "When was she last seen?"

Elain shook her head. "She was at the healing house. They said a man came, asking for her specifically by name and claiming his son had fallen ill. Kaylee is known for her work with children. She hasn't been seen since."

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Right. We got that. How long ago was it?" Feyre was holding Azriel's hand tightly as the male tried to school his expression and breath.

"About two weeks ago." Nesta finally answered.

"Our sister has been gone for two weeks, and you haven't looked for her?"

"It wouldn't be the firs-" Cassian cut Nesta off with a single hand raised to her.

"I do not want to hear your excuses. Az?"

"I will find her." The shadow singer said softly. "She should have one shadow with her. If it hasn't come back to me-" His jaw tightened. The sentence didn't need to be finished as he and Rhys made eye contact and the high lord nodded. It was clear to all of the fae in the room. Kaylee was alive, but possibly in danger.

Somewhere in Hybern, Kaylee pulled her knees to her chest as she sat locked in a dark cell. Fae males were guarding her as she sniffled and cried for what felt like the 1000th time today.

She had been forced to bathe and dine with a king. One who whispered in her ear what he planned to do to her, to her sisters, before hurting her, using her, laughing while she cried and a human male watched.

Kaylee watched from the corner of her eye as the little shadow that followed her returned with more. One tried to approach the cell before falling still on the ground and regrouping to join the other ones.

She was losing hope. Hope that Rhys could hear her as she screamed for him mentally. Hope that Feyre would come save her. Losing hope that anyone could come save her. Kaylee fiddled with the chain of her necklace as she cried harder. Help me, she pleaded mentally to anyone listening. Someone please help me.

—---------

Kaylee didn't bother fighting the guards pulling her into the throne room. She knew the pathway well at this point. Nesta was struggling, Elain was crying. Kaylee just walked, numb to all of it. Nesta and Elain were stopped at a certain point while Kaylee was dragged to the King of Hybern and forced to sit at his feet.

Rhys growled loudly at the sight of her. "What did you do to her?! Kaylee! Honey, look at me!" She refused to look at Rhysand, wrapping her hand around the King's calf and playing the part of the good little toy he had forced her to become.

"You and Kaylee have something in common now dear Rhysand. You're both little pleasure whores." The king tilted her jaw, eyes sparkling with the lifelessness he found in Kaylee's. "The only difference is my toy had to be broken into submission while you handed yours away freely."

He dropped her jaw and Kaylee zoned out, waiting for what she knew was coming, almost begging for it. She blocked out Elain's screams. She blocked out the panic as Nesta stayed in too long. She blocked out the image of Cassian reaching for her older sister despite being nearly unconscious.

"Put my pet in. I want to see if she's worth breeding once she is fae." A soft growl snapped Kaylee back to reality. She knew it was Azriel. She knew he was dying. She almost fought as the Hybern guards gripped her arms, but it all went limp as one realized what she was about to do and back handed her. "Evidently there is some fight left in her. No matter, that can be fixed."

Kaylee allowed them to drag and lift her. She heard Feyre scream as Rhys held her back. But all Kaylee felt was water and cold and pain.

—--------

Azriel woke up in his own bed, squeezing his eyes shut before his hands shot to his chest. "You're fully healed," a tired voice came from the corner as Rhysand stood. "You've been asleep for 3 days."

"Cassian-" Azriel began coughing and Rhysand handed him water.

"Asleep in his room. He's been awake off and on. His wings will be fine. Just a slow healing process." Rhysand sat on the edge of Azriel's bed. "Feyre is in Spring acting as a spy. She is okay." Rhysand handed Azriel broth, hoping to help him build strength. "Nesta and Elain are awake. Traumatized, but awake and alive." He watched as Rhysand swallowed thickly. "Kaylee hasn't woken up yet. She shows no signs of waking up anytime soon. Madja and her team are monitoring her day and night. I am going into her mind every so often looking for changes."

"Take me to her." Rhysand sighed heavily at the request. "Rhys. Take me to Kaylee. Please."

The high lord nodded. "They all have powers now, Az. We can't tell what they all are, but be aware, Kaylee's body is strumming with her magic. I don't know why or what she is, but she's dangerous, Az."

Azriel nodded, moving to stand and walk with Rhys. "Did Cassian?"

"The bond snapped for him the second he saw her. We were correct. Just like I have a feeling we're about to be again." He opened the door to the room next to Azriel's.

The brothers entered the room quietly and Azriel released a soft sob. Kaylee was asleep, hair spread out on the pillow as she took deep breaths. Azriel knew what Rhysand meant immediately. Her power was intoxicating, all consuming. His eyes flicked to the birds and other animals watching from the ledge of her balcony. He shot Rhysand a questioning look, and the High Lord shrugged.

Azriel began to note the changes in her. Her ears had changed shape, her limbs slightly longer, cheekbones higher. He fixed her necklace, and removed her earrings gently. Azriel took her small hand in his, ignoring the strumming glittering bond that snapped the second he touched her.

Rhys paused as he studied the light of it. "Azriel, did you two?"

"Not to the full extent, no." His brother was stroking her head. "We played. That's it." Rhys nodded. Grabbing two chairs so they could sit with her.

He was in Kaylee's mind. She was dreaming about walking through the woods and countless animals and lesser fae. Her mind showed no signs of waking her anytime soon. "I have Amren looking into her dream symbolism and her sudden new furry and feathery friends, we have guesses, but-"

"All we can do is wait?" Azriel's voice was desperate as he kissed Kaylee's cold fingers.

"Correct. All we can do is wait."

[shelbyssins]

HI 💕 I loved Home so much and I was wondering if I could request something?? I had this idea of Tommy x Reader where reader was like a one that got away situation with pre-war Tommy and she married someone else but her husband dies during the war but Tommy didn’t ever know that he just thought she was married.. so time passes and they meet again then you can choose the ending!! Happy or sad you can choose, I hope this makes sense English is not my first language lol!! And if this doesn’t inspire you that’s okay too but know I love your work and am excited to see what you write next!!!💕😇😇

Seasons Change, People Don't ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Language, a sprinkling of angst

Word Count: 6,880

A/N: So this past week or so has just been insanely busy for me and I was struggling to find time to finish this request but here it finally is! I wanted to make this a little more light hearted than my previous request and the idea of Tommy and reader's relationship changing through the seasons really stuck with me so I hope you enjoy! I will be posting some shorter form one shots this week with some different characters so watch out for those! As always, if you read this, let me know what you think! - Rosie x

-

June 1912

“Tommy!” Y/n shrieked as she bounded over to her friend in the stables. The summer sun was breaking through the thin cover of cloud that drifted over the fields today. Y/n watched as Tommy’s eyes met hers, a soft smile playing on his lips when he recognised her. Y/n pressed a kiss to Tommy’s cheek, smacking her lips louder than she needed to because she knew it wound him up. He made an exaggerated show of wiping the spot she’d kissed and Y/n punched him lightly in response, he laughed gently, feigning hurt as he rubbed his arm. 

Tommy was reverently brushing his mare, a bay horse who’s coat gleamed like copper coins under his attention. Tommy was a quiet man, never really as raucous as his brothers could be, but he laughed a lot, those soft little chuckles that never failed to make Y/n blush whenever she pulled one out of him. Tommy was a middle child, but Y/n knew he acted every bit the eldest. Having been blessed with intelligence, his head would soon be burdened with the crown of the Shelby family. Though he did laugh a lot, Y/n could often see the strain he felt as the head of the family, so it was nice to see him relaxed and in his own world. 

He was twenty two now, about a head taller than Y/n and she found him so frustratingly handsome. She watched as his solid muscles shifted beneath his crisp shirt with every movement over his mare’s back, all broad shoulders and quiet strength, it was no wonder he had every girl in Small Heath falling over themselves for the chance to go out with him, though he never seemed to care much. Despite the obvious physical attraction, Y/n’s favourite part of him was his bright blue eyes, shining like sapphires in the sun, like stormy seas in the shade. Y/n would like to pretend that she was better than all the other girls, far above so obviously throwing herself at Tommy; but it was hard to push down the magnificently huge crush she had on him when he gazed at her with those pools of blue. 

Y/n had known Tommy ever since she could remember, her mother was best friends with his Aunt, Polly Gray, they were practically sisters, and as her father had abandoned them before she was even born, the Shelby family pitched in to help wherever needed. Then, when Y/n was twelve years old, her mother passed and she’d lived with Polly ever since. She knew full well that Tommy only ever deemed her like a sister, but that didn’t stop her dreaming that he’d one day notice her affections. 

It didn’t help that Tommy always treated her like a child as well, chiding her when he’d seen her smoking for the first time, always referring to her and her friends as ‘the kids’. Y/n had hoped that now she was eighteen, Tommy might see her in a different light, might start treating her like an adult, but if anything he was even more overprotective. 

Just recently he’d refused to let her sit with him and his older brother, Arthur, in the Garrison, telling her, “It’s not proper for young ladies to listen to conversation like ours, you don’t want to be around us when we’re drinking anyway,”. It was kind of humiliating, especially when Arthur had laughed that booming laugh right in her face, so she gave up that night and trailed home, feeling every bit the little girl Tommy thought she was.

“You know, Mark’s been hanging around me a lot recently,” Y/n began, hoping that Tommy might get jealous if she talked about another guy, “Ada says she thinks he likes me,” 

Y/n got nothing more than a non committal grunt from Tommy, though his hands had stilled their work over his mare’s mane. 

“She thinks he’s going to ask me to go to the Garrison’s jazz night this weekend. As his date,” She added the clarification at the end, searching Tommy’s face for absolutely any reaction.

Tommy obviously wasn’t going to bite, so Y/n decided to try a more direct approach, “You know, if you asked me to go with you instead of him, I’d say yes,” 

For all the intelligence he apparently possessed, Tommy just looked at Y/n blankly, a puzzled eyebrow raised as he went back to grooming his horse.

“You know I don’t like jazz, Y/n,” Was all he said on the matter, and Y/n wondered if he really was that bad at picking up her hints or if he was ignoring her attempts at flirtation on purpose.

Y/n was beyond frustrated at the fact that Tommy just didn’t understand what she was trying to say, she had hoped distantly that maybe she had a head start on all the other girls who liked Tommy too; she knew him far better than they did after all. But maybe it was because they’d grown up together that Tommy couldn’t see her as a potential girlfriend, maybe she’d always be just a kid in his eyes. Maybe he had some misguided idea that he was protecting her feelings by pretending to be confused, because perhaps in reality he just wanted to reject her.

“Well maybe I’ll just say yes to Mark then,” Y/n snapped, all together fed up with trying to get her meaning across. She looked away from Tommy then, afraid that if he caught her eye that she’d start blushing. 

Tommy didn’t look up at her statement, just scratched at his horse’s ear as he said a bored, “Ok,” 

Y/n huffed, storming away in a barely contained stomping tantrum that would rival any fit Finn could throw. She felt utterly defeated as she walked away from Tommy, thoroughly embarrassed that she was a tiny bit jealous of a horse.

 March 1913

The sun was warm today, the first hints of spring blooming to bask in its light. The grass, damp with morning dew, caressed Y/n’s bare legs just below her skirt as she walked through the meadow in search of Tommy. Y/n knew he would be out here somewhere, desperate to get the family’s horses out in the fields for some exercise after the previous week’s relentless storms had kept them locked in the stables.

As she climbed her way over a short hill, Y/n’s eyes finally set on Tommy, who was standing under the shade of a tree, smoke from his cigarette billowing out of his mouth. Y/n ambled over, the closer she got she took in more of his appearance. He was dressed only in an undershirt tucked into his trousers, his suspenders hung loose by his legs. Tommy’s hair, not gelled down for once, flopped over by his ears. Y/n swallowed thickly as she remembered that she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home.

“Hi, Tommy,” She said softly, not wanting to startle him out of whatever daydream he seemed to be in.

“Y/n,” He replied simply, blowing some smoke in her face by way of greeting.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she waved the cloud of smoke away, faking a cough as she did.

“You got another one of those for me?” She asked with a gesture towards his cigarette, putting on the sweet voice she always used when she wanted something from Tommy.

He wordlessly opened his packet and she took one gratefully, leaning forward when Tommy flicked his lighter. Tommy moved in close to light Y/n’s cigarette for her, she held her breath as he did, wanting to avoid accidentally breathing in his dizzying scent of fresh soap and a hint of whiskey. Y/n took a long drag of the cigarette, having smoked almost half of it in one go when she finally exhaled. Tommy quirked an eyebrow at her obvious craving for the nicotine but didn’t comment.

Y/n relaxed her shoulders a little as she felt the effects of the smoke calm her rushing blood slightly, sagging against the tree as she pulled at the last dregs of the cigarette. Her mind wandered back to the problem at hand when she flicked the butt away into the grass. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure,” Tommy asked as he too finished his smoke.

Y/n sighed and looked off into the distance, her eyes finding two of the Shelby horses grazing at the far side of the field in the shade, “I think Mark is going to propose to me.”

She sighed out a breath and couldn’t stop the way her eyes immediately went to Tommy’s face, waiting for his reaction. Y/n had accepted months ago that Tommy wouldn't ever see her the way she wanted him to, so she shut the door on those feelings and kept them buried under Mark’s affections. But she couldn’t help but worry that the lock on her heart was too weak now that she spoke to Tommy about impending marriage, she was powerless to stop the small hope that Tommy might tell her to say no, knew she’d run right into his arms if he wanted her to.

“I’m not sure what light you think I’ll be able to shed on the matter,” Tommy responded, his bored voice grating on Y/n’s final nerve.

“I should’ve known you’d be no help,” She huffed, pushing away from the tree and smoothing her skirts with angry hands. She made to stomp off back across the field, like she always did when Tommy irritated her, but a warm hand circling the entirety of her wrist stopped her in her tracks.

“Alright, love, alright, stop your tantrum,” Tommy was barely concealing a laugh behind his hand, but Y/n could see the humour clearly in his twinkling eyes. 

“Shut up, Tommy,” Y/n replied, articulating her scowl with a harsh shove into Tommy’s side, “I’m just… not sure I want to marry him, at least, not so soon,” 

Tommy pushed his hair out of his eyes and seemed to consider for a moment, “Well, don’t you like him?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Of course I like him, he’s sweet - kind to me, you know... Has a good job,” 

“Well there you go, if you like him, why can’t you marry him?” Tommy said, so matter of fact that Y/n might have thought he’d mulled this over before.

“That’s just the thing, Tom. I like him, sure. But I just described him like he’s a pet dog, not a potential husband,” Tommy snorts at that and Y/n can’t help the little giggle that escapes in response, “I just… I always thought I’d be madly in love with whoever I was to marry, I’m scared I’ll regret it if I say yes,” 

“What if you say no and regret it?” Tommy asked, his voice as soft as the breeze whispering over Y/n’s skin.

“You’re right. I don’t want to end up alone the rest of my life, and it’s not like anyone else is lining up for the chance to propose to me,” Y/n cringed at how obvious she sounded as she glanced at Tommy, she hunted for any change in those expressive eyes but came back disappointed when there was nothing. 

Tommy said nothing more, sensing that Y/n was deep in thought, so they stood there in comfortable silence as the sun climbed higher into the afternoon sky. 

Y/n felt bereft at the way her life had turned out. She and Ada used to dream of their weddings like all little girls did. They would excitedly tell each other all the details, what kind of dress they would wear, the colour of the bouquet they would hold, even the flavour of the wedding cake. They would clasp their little hands together and wish their dreams would come true, but there was one dream little Y/n never told Ada. The dream that a handsome blue eyed man would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle, he’d say she looked beautiful as he lifted her veil and they’d vow to belong to each other as long as they both lived.

Y/n's chest tightened sorrowfully as she felt that dream slipping through her fingers. No matter how tight she tried to hold onto it, she knew now that it would never come true.

“Come on,” Tommy spoke up, apparently done with the silence, “We can ride the horses back to the stables and I’ll see you home.”

Y/n felt pained by his words because they came from brotherly concern rather than the love she’d always wanted from him. He walked on ahead of her and Y/n closed her eyes, trying to find a way to barricade the door to her heart just a little more, so that maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much the next time Tommy smiled at her.

November 1913

Autumn came and went silently through the town of Small Heath. The residential area was completely taken up by dull houses and sooty factories, so Y/n always had to go searching for trees just beyond the cut if she wanted to see the change of the leaves before there weren’t any left. All that evidenced Autumn was a slight chill in the air and the constant heavy rain that deluged the narrow streets. 

Y/n and Mark had married in that quiet Autumn a month ago in a small ceremony attended by only Mark’s family and the Shelbys, including Tommy. Life since then had been sweet, Y/n had to admit. Mark absolutely doted on her, hanging on her every whim to keep her happy, and Y/n found herself a little besotted with being Mrs Mark Johnson too, much to her surprise. At the wedding reception, Tommy had done nothing more than offer a muttered congratulations and brood in the corner alone for the rest of the night. But for once in her life, Y/n couldn’t find it within herself to actually care what Tommy was doing, thoroughly intent on enjoying a day that was all about her.

Winter then took Autumn’s place. Freezing air bit at bare faces, the town blanketed by a persistent cover of grey cloud. Y/n pulled her coat even tighter around herself as she made her way to the Garrison, praying that she’d find Tommy there since he’d been putting great effort into avoiding her recently. As she neared the place she hoped she’d find the second oldest Shelby, Y/n felt firmly resolute about her plan to talk to him, as she knew his stubbornness all too well. She knew that he’d let the silence between them stretch on until the end of time if she didn’t do something about it. So she steeled herself as she reached the heavy doors of the Garrison and walked inside.

She was immediately hit by the familiar smell of stale alcohol and tobacco permeating the air, barely containing a shudder as her senses tried to get used to the offending scent. Y/n quickly scanned the main area and didn’t find her target, so she walked over to Harry, the barkeep, and smiled at him as he finished wiping a glass.

“Hi, Harry. Is Tommy here?” She asked, hoping he’d at least caught sight of him today.

“He’s in there,” Harry replied, glancing over at the snug and nodding in that direction.

“Thanks, Harry,” Y/n gave her best sweet smile as payment, feeling a little bad about not buying a drink.

She pulled open the door to the snug and felt triumphant as she finally laid eyes on Tommy. He didn’t even bother to try and conceal the heavy sigh he huffed when he made eye contact with her, strengthening Y/n’s resolve that she would confront him about his avoidance even further.

“Hello, Thomas,” Y/n opened the conversation, inviting herself to sit at the table with him. 

Tommy immediately brought out his pack of cigarettes, lit one and hastily shoved it between his lips as if he was trying to stop himself from speaking.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, smoke flowing out of his mouth with every word. 

Y/n was puzzled at the question, “Is this not a public place?” She asked her own question back but didn’t wait for a response, “I’ve been trying to meet with you for weeks now, Tommy, but you always had some convenient excuse to avoid me,”

Tommy kept his face even and calm, the only tell that he’d been found out being a minute twitch of his lip, “There’s always business to attend to these days, Y/n,” He offered his meagre reasoning, another hasty excuse to hopefully placate her.

“Business,” Y/n couldn’t help but scoff, “Tommy, we haven’t had a conversation as long as this one since my wedding!” She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s shoulders straightened at the mention of the wedding. Curious.

“Why have you really been avoiding me, Tom?” She asked, softening her voice a little in hopes that Tommy would be more liable to answer truthfully.

But just as he’d opened his mouth to speak, in waltzed Arthur, the very embodiment of awkward timing, barrelling in like a rearing stallion, voice booming as loud as gunfire. Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that rose to her lips as Arthur pressed a rough kiss to the top of her head. 

“And how’s married life treating the new Mrs Johnson, eh?” Arthur articulated his thinly veiled innuendo with a suggestive wink.

“Just fine, thank you, Arthur,” Y/n replied with a smirk, quite enjoying the way Arthur’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, surprised that she’d actually played along.

“I bet there’ll be tiny little versions of you running around Small Heath in no time at all, eh, love?” He garbled around the cork of a whiskey bottle he’d pulled out with his teeth, pouring the amber liquid into his glass.

“Well, that might not actually be the case,” Y/n smiled a little sadly, watching as Tommy sat up a little straighter, quirking a confused brow as a means to ask her to explain.

“Mark has been looking at a property in the countryside, about an hour away from here. If nobody outbids us we’ll be moving come New Year,” Y/n looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting themselves into knots as she tried to avoid Tommy’s penetrating eyes.

Arthur hummed but didn’t say anything on the matter, and Y/n knew Tommy wasn’t going to offer anything new, recognising that the contemplative look on his face meant silence for the foreseeable. So she felt compelled to continue on explaining herself.

“With all this talk of war getting closer and closer to us, we really want to settle down and start a family sooner rather than later,” She rambled, feeling a little interrogated even though neither man had said anything yet. 

As Y/n flicked her eyes over to Tommy apprehensively, she saw that his jaw was completely set and he was gripping his whiskey glass so tight that his knuckles were white and his fist was shaking a little. 

Y/n looked at him quizzically, trying to make him meet her eyes by some sort of telepathy, but Tommy’s gaze remained firmly fixed on his alcohol. She couldn’t understand why he’d be angry with her about this, her move hadn’t come as a shock to anyone who actually spoke to her often; it had been on the cards pretty much as soon as they were married. Maybe it was because Tommy thought she’d be happier here, maybe it was because he didn’t like her husband; how was she to know if he rebuffed her every attempt at communication?

Silence continued on for a minute before Arthur, characteristically oblivious to the tension, piped up again, “Well! The countryside, eh? Sounds marvellous, love,”

Tommy raised his eyebrows, as if in disbelief, and shook his head, dragging on the last fragments of his cigarette. Y/n muttered a quiet thanks to Arthur as he stood, saying something about another bottle of whiskey from his private collection to celebrate. Her eyes followed Arthur’s slightly drunken gait as he made his way out of the snug.

“Thomas, why are you sulking at me?” She interrogated immediately as the door shut.

Tommy stamped out his cigarette in the ash try, “I’m not sulking,” he replied, frowning.

“Well, you’re doing an excellent impression,” Y/n countered, sighing when Tommy’s lips didn’t even attempt a smile, “I just don’t understand why you can’t even pretend to be happy for me at least,”

Tommy’s shoulders sagged at that and he finally lifted his head up to meet Y/n’s eyes, “Don’t get upset ok?” He began carefully, and just by his tone of voice, Y/n knew she absolutely was going to get upset, “I just didn’t think you’d marry so soon, especially after our conversation in spring, you said he was like a pet dog, not a husband. Now all of a sudden you’re moving away? I know you Y/n, you love our town, what if you hate it in the country?”

Y/n’s face flushed hot, she was utterly incensed that Tommy thought these things about her marriage and apparently just chose to never say a word about it, “Firstly, if I remember correctly about that conversation in spring, you offered me no actually helpful advice when I was obviously asking for it!” Y/n was careful not to shout, so her voice came out like a hiss, “Then you practically encouraged me to marry him! Now you want to act as if you’re the font of all knowledge when it comes to my marriage.”

Tommy bit his lip and scrubbed a rough hand over his face, the way he did when he was trying not to get angry, “I just can’t help but think that your decisions have been too hasty, Y/n,” he supplied, any sweetness in his voice long gone.

The words wounded Y/n deeper than anything he’d said to her before, she felt the tears pricking at her eyes as she tried not to show that she was upset. All she’d ever wanted was this married life with him, but now that she’d moved on and accepted that it was never going to happen, Tommy chose to criticise her every decision, blissfully ignorant of the fact that she had worked so hard to get over him.

“I could hardly wait for you forever, Tom,” Y/n whispered, suddenly feeling exhausted as all the memories of her relationship with Tommy flashed in front of her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel it was such a waste, pining after him for all that time. Such a waste to crave the affections of a man who didn’t pay enough attention to her to notice she was utterly in love with him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tommy finally said, looking away from Y/n’s tearful eyes.

“If you had such strong opinions on the choices I made, who I was going to marry, where I was going to live, maybe you should’ve voiced them while you still could’ve done something about it,” Y/n stood as soon as she finished her speech, walking towards the door when she was certain Tommy wasn’t going to speak again.

Tommy didn’t call after her when she left.

February 1917

The fire crackled distantly as Y/n stared blankly into the flames, amber light casting lonely shadows onto the walls of her cottage home. The room was near silent, but the thud of her heart in her ears was almost deafening. 

She clutched a telegram in her trembling hands and didn't bother to fight her tears as she read it for the fourth or fifth time, hoping this time she might make sense of the words written there on the page. But she didn’t know whether she couldn’t understand the sentences or just couldn’t believe the words were true.

Before the war hit England in July 1914, Y/n and Mark had spent a wonderfully happy, albeit short, married life. A few months before Mark was shipped off to France like every other man fit to fight, he worked as a clerk in the postal office of their little village, while Y/n looked after their house. She tended the garden too and often found peace planting flowers and thinking up new arrangements. Mark would come home every evening and greet Y/n with a kiss on her cheek before they sat down to eat dinner. Life was peaceful and picture perfect, no fighting, no drunkards lining the streets, no constant threat of crime. Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the chaos of Small Heath at least a little bit, but somewhere between their move to the country and Mark’s constant devotion, Y/n well and truly fell in love with him.

Now, as Y/n looked around her desolate sitting room, she realised she had absolutely nothing to prove that their love had ever happened. No matter how hard they had tried, God wouldn’t bless them with a child, and in the suffocating silence of this house, Y/n suddenly ached with longing to hear the patter of little feet running into her arms. At least she’d be comforted by the knowledge that a piece of their father resided still in this cottage, could look at their faces and still see his eyes looking back. But there was nothing, just utter loneliness.

Up until now, Y/n had grasped at any small shred of hope that Mark would return, ever since he left three years ago. She wrote to him every week, prayed for him every night, even though she wasn’t sure there was anyone listening anymore. She wished for his safe return and dreamed of the day he would warm their bed again. But now, there was no hope left in all the Earth that Y/n could beg for. There was no marriage, no husband to speak of as Y/n sat completely alone in this world, still clinging to that damned letter, her tears ruining the ink that spelled the end of her life.

Mark Johnson - Killed In Action.

July 1919

Y/n stepped off the train and took a heaving breath in as she tried to calm her nerves. Tendrils of anxiety curled around her chest as she carefully walked up the steps to leave the station, she knew she was only a short walk away from her home town and the odd need to run away was rising through her body.  

Only the month prior, Y/n had sold her cottage in the countryside, finally accepting that nothing was keeping her tied to that place anymore, accepting that she couldn’t fit in without Mark. In the village, every corner she turned was a reminder of her husband, the route he used to walk to work, their favourite spot in the park, the station where she'd kissed him for the last time. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger nervously, she’d kept it on even after Mark's memorial service, it seemed a simple service she could do her husband to wear it, to remember him every day.

Y/n decided to rent a flat just down the road from where she’d grown up, and the familiarity of the streets comforted her as she entered her new home, dropping her few belongings in the hallway. It wasn’t much, but as a woman alone Y/n didn’t really see the point of buying a big house with no one else to keep her company. She sagged against the door, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get a whiskey, so she decided to leave the flat for a while and hoped that the Garrison would clear her head.

Almost as soon as she opened the door to the pub, Y/n could hear John’s familiar voice shouting over to someone at the bar and her eyes immediately landed on all of the Shelbys sat around a table, drinking various spirits and pints of ale. The relief she felt as she counted the boys and noted that they were all intact and alive was brief, she couldn't believe her bad luck that she had run into every Shelby the minute she set foot back in Small Heath. Y/n quickly scurried up to the bar, hopefully unnoticed by the family, deciding that she definitely wasn't having this reunion sober.

She had barely taken a sip of her whiskey when a voice called to her from across the room, "Well isn't this a sight for sore bloody eyes," Y/n heard Polly's familiar drawl and didn't need to look up from her glass to know all the attention was suddenly on her. Y/n gave up on the dainty sipping and knocked back the rest of her whiskey as the Shelbys began to descend like vultures to their prey. She focussed on the way the alcohol spread through her body, warming her and giving her that little bit more confidence as she gave a tight hug to her surrogate mother, "Hi, Pol," she said with a smile.  

"Now what the 'ell are you doing back 'ere, love?" Arthur spoke as he nodded to the barkeep to refill your glass.

Y/n sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden questioning even though it was only Arthur who had asked anything, "You ok?" Polly whispered, squeezing her arm. Y/n nodded quickly and took another gulp of whiskey, "I wasn't counting on seeing you all so suddenly, I only got here half an hour ago!" She laughed nervously, "But now's as good a time as any to say I've moved back here. Surprise!" There was a chorus of congratulations and happy remarks, but there was only one person's face Y/n searched for, and she finally felt like she was home when she found Tommy's blue eyes.

He looked different, older definitely, but there was a cold harshness in his eyes that Y/n had never seen before. She shivered at what those eyes might have seen in France.

"It's good to have you back round here, Y/n," Tommy said lowly, and Y/n felt like everyone else in the room had faded away as she let Tommy's presence wash over her.

"Let's get a bottle to celebrate!" Arthur boomed, ruffling her hair like he did when she was a child, "Where's that husband of yours?" Y/n sucked in a sharp breath at the tactless question, fighting back tears as she tried to remember that it wasn't their fault if they didn't know Mark had passed.

"Probably at home looking after the kids, eh, Y/n?" John chimed in, nausea rising in Y/n's stomach as she tried to get a word in edgewise before someone said something they would regret.

"Nah, he's probably avoiding the pub, you know he can't handle his booze," Tommy was the one to pipe up that time and Y/n hated the cruel edge to his laugh, she'd hoped he'd grown up enough to get over his childish dislike of her husband.

"Tommy," Polly warned in that low, threatening voice of hers, picking up on Y/n's quickened breathing and tearful eyes. But Tommy carried on laughing, oblivious to his Aunt's insistence that they stop making fun, "You have to admit, he's always been a bit of a boring bastard," and there was the last straw. Before she'd even told her arm to move, Y/n's hand was flying at Tommy's face, slapping him right across the cheek so hard his head actually looked like it might detach from his neck. It happened so quickly Y/n wasn't quite sure if she had actually done it or not, but the boys had stopped laughing instantaneously, and the way Polly physically flinched told her she had genuinely just smacked Tommy Shelby. "How dare you," Y/n hissed before she could think better of it, her voice cold as steel, "My husband is dead, Thomas, have some fucking respect," The entire pub had gone silent, all staring intently at the scene unfolding, but wincing at Y/n's words, like they were watching a car accident happen right in front of them, too morbidly curious to look away. To his credit, John looked thoroughly ashamed of himself even though he hadn't said anything insulting and Arthur's eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, Y/n might have laughed had the cause been different. "Y/n, love, I'm sorry, we-" Arthur reached out as if to comfort her, but he cut off his sentence when Y/n flinched away from his touch, too overwhelmed to be crowded by him. She didn't know when she'd started to cry, but tears were flooding down her cheeks and pooling on the floorboards at her feet.

"Right. John, Arthur? Time to go," Polly insisted, ever the observant one, she knew that Tommy and Y/n had some talking to do. Neither man moved at first, but all it took was for Polly to level them with her menacing glare and they were hurrying out of the pub faster than a horse at full gallop.

Tommy and Y/n stood in silence for a moment, Y/n being too scared to speak because she desperately didn't want to acknowledge that she'd just slapped him.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry," Tommy finally whispered, and his voice was so genuinely sincere that it broke the final shred of dignity that Y/n cared to hold onto, and she started to cry louder than she had even let herself cry at Mark's memorial. Tommy opened his arms and that was all the prompting Y/n needed to fall straight into his chest, she sniffled as he cradled her head against his steadily beating heart, he shushed her softly and held her tight, "Come on now, love, let's go in the other room yeah? We can talk away from all the prying eyes,"

Y/n allowed herself to be led into the snug, struck by how familiar it was even after all these years, Tommy lowered her carefully onto the couch, as if he was afraid she might fall over.

"I'm sorry for hitting you, Tommy," Y/n babbled as soon as her breathing evened out, "It's not your fault, you didn't know Mark was dead,"

Tommy rubbed his cheek and smiled lightly, "Don't apologise, I deserved it. You've got some power in that hand, you know? Not sure any man has ever hit me that hard," Y/n giggled despite herself, sniffing and wiping at her face to dry the tears.

"So how come you're moving back here?" Tommy asked as she sagged into the couch, he avoided asking about Mark's death, sensing that she'd talk about it in her own time.

"Everything back at the village just reminds me of him, I couldn't stand it. Every time I left the house I couldn't stop thinking about how I waved him off to France, to fucking war, and didn't know he was never coming back. So I just isolated myself, only left the house to buy food, never made any friends because I couldn't bring myself to walk around without him by myside, I couldn't walk around as if nothing had happened," Tommy just hummed, knowing there was more to say and just waiting for Y/n to go on, "So when I finally sold the house, I decided to make a new start somewhere I knew would be easy to fit in,"

"You were right, you know," Y/n laughed into the quiet of the room, "I really did miss it round here. I missed how unpredictable it was, the routine of the village was hard to get used to but..." She teared up all over again as her husband's smiling face flashed in her mind, "I really did love him,"

"I'm sorry," was all Tommy said as Y/n swallowed around the lump in her throat.

"I didn't think I'd fall in love with him so deeply. At the start, my main reason for marrying him was because I thought I had no other option," Y/n confessed, not entirely sure why she was spilling all of her secrets to the man she used to love.

"I always thought you liked him a lot either way," Tommy said, a confused edge to his tone, "You used to talk about him constantly,"

Y/n laughed a genuine laugh at that, reminded suddenly of herself at seventeen, "I only talked about him so much because I thought it would make you jealous,"

Tommy's head shot up at that, and Y/n was once again concerned about the structural integrity of his neck, "Jealous?" He reiterated, pausing the rolling of a new cigarette to stare at Y/n expectantly.

"Yeah, I used to hint at you all the time about my very massive crush on you. But for all the good your intelligence apparently does, you never got it. Or, you know, you were just trying to let me down gently,"

Tommy looked like he was about to choke, or possibly stop breathing all together, "Hold on, you liked me?"

Y/n rolled her eyes at Tommy, assuming he was overreacting on purpose, "I know, it's embarrassing Tommy, don't make fun of me. But yes, I didn't just like you. I loved you, Tommy, ever since I was eleven,"

"Oh my god," Tommy breathed, suddenly struggling to get his rolling paper to stick.

"What? There's no need to be dramatic, Thomas," Y/n said, voice snippy due to her slight mortification.

"I just... I liked you too, for years, but I thought you didn't have any feelings for me since you were going out with Mark,"

Y/n was sure her blood had turned cold in her veins, either that or someone must have dumped a bucket of ice over her head, "Are you serious right now? Tommy, you should've just told me! I was being so obvious with my hints and you just refused to see it!"

Tommy looked indignant as he gave up on rolling his cigarette, "Well, why didn't you just tell me!" Y/n couldn't deny that that was an excellent point, "Anyway, I was sure someone as beautiful as you couldn't possibly have feelings for someone like me,"

Y/n slumped in her seat, overwhelmed by the revelations, she smiled as she imagined how she would've reacted to this information when she was a teenager all those years ago.

"Oh, Tommy, you're an idiot!" Tommy started to laugh and Y/n couldn't help soon joining in, feeling weightless for the first time since the war. She gazed into Tommy's eyes again, searched for the same look they'd had when he was in his early twenties, even though she knew she wouldn't find it. He'd changed so much, they both had, but in that moment she wondered if they really could just be the same two kids who loved each other so much, couldn't help but wonder how their lives would've played out if they'd both had the courage to admit their feelings.

Y/n didn't know when it happened, but their faces were suddenly only a hair's width apart, she could feel his breath whispering over her mouth, he smelled sweet despite the tobacco that clung to him. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed out of instinct, her heart thudding as she let herself be intoxicated by Tommy's entire being. But just as their noses touched, she sprung away from Tommy like he'd burned her.

"I'm sorry, that was-"

"No, don't apologise," Y/n cut him off before he could start spiralling, "Tommy... I've loved you since the day I met you, and... I think I always will love you, no matter what happens, or what has happened. You mean the world to me," she stared at her hands, afraid of the vulnerability she felt as she laid her heart at Tommy's feet, "But you have to understand... I loved my husband too, and I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him, because I'm falling for you so fast all over again. I'd - I'd feel so guilty if I rushed into something with you when he loved me so much before he passed. I can't just forget him."

"I won't ask you to," Tommy replied, tentatively putting his warm hand on Y/n's knee, making her look up at him, "But I have loved you too, and I love you right now, and I'll love you tomorrow. I won't ever be able to forgive myself if I let you get away again, not now that I know you feel the same. I want to be with you, whenever you're ready. We can take it slow,"

Y/n was breathless, like all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out, she was completely consumed by thousands of thoughts running through her head all at once, "What does slow look like?" She whispered, entirely swept up by the ocean of love in Tommy's eyes.

"It starts like this," He murmured softly, taking Y/n by the hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles, "Then it might continue if you'll accompany me to dinner soon?"

"I'd like that Tommy," Y/n replied, a wave of relief flowing through her body, grateful that she could find love again at her own pace.

Tommy leaned in slowly and placed the most gentle and reverent kiss on Y/n's cheek, looking so deeply into her eyes that she thought he might be gazing directly at her soul, his voice was full of adoration as he said, "I promise I won't ever let you go,"

[haerin1]

hcs you have for Scara? Love seeing new writers around here 🫶

꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ SCARA HEADCANNONS.

note: omh ty for the req !! i did 2 versions bcause i got carried away UM anw enjoy xoxo kisses hugs :33

[wanderer!scara, modern au!scara x gn!reader] fluff, pinches of angst, mentioned mommy issues and trust issues !!

modern au scara !!

Scara is definitely a band kid and in my opinion, he'd absolutely be an electric bassist. He carries around the band-aids you gave him so he can use one whenever his fingertips get cut from the tough strings of the instrument.

Scara loves judging everybody in his classes and making people uncomfortable because he's a menace like that. His narrowed sapphire gaze following certain people with ill thoughts and a slight grimace; you already know he's judging them real hard.

It's simply impossible for him to go a day, no, even an hour, without his headphones and downloaded music from his favourite artists. Scara's music taste consists mostly of Chase Atlantic, Artic Monkeys, TV Girl, Cigarettes After Sex and he's a closeted Mitski listener.

Mommy issues and miscommunication trope with Ei. Scara aspires to be anything else but the occupation Ei suggested for him. Ei compares Scara to his sister, Raiden, without knowing it hurts Scara's feelings because she's bad at communicating and getting her words right overall.

Shops at Hot Topic and Miniso. Miniso, because he only goes there for the Kuromi stuff that reminds him of you (since you're always telling him how you and him are literally Kuromi and Badtzmaru) and Hot Topic is self-explanatory.

Adding onto the Kuromi and Badtzmaru topic. Ever since you made that comment, Scara ended up loving that specific pair of cute Sanrio characters. He now owns a Badtzmaru hoodie (yours is a Kuromi one: hashtag couple goals), five Kuromi figures and more than thirty things consist of Badtzmaru in his bedroom.

Scara's bedroom is neat but messy at the same time. The room is fairly big and he has his bassist on its stand in the corner of the room with a huge Badtzmaru plushie sitting on the floor by it. His bed is filled with your gifts of plushies from past dates or occasions.

Scara has an area dedicated to his favourite music artists with posters of their albums plastered to the black painted wall. You bought him TV Girl's French Exit vinyl for his birthday, which he always plays on the record player whenever you come over or when he's missing you (by missing you, I mean whenever you're not with him).

Everytime you mention a new song you like, Scara immediately learns it on his bass so he can impress you. You find it so cute how these little gestures of his are all for your compliments and affection when all he could do is breathe and you'd be head over heels for him.

Scara is unfiltered, cunning and a tease. He'll say whatever he wants at any given time and doesn't mind what people think at all (he fights back the urge to rock someone's shit when they disagree with him.) He's your cute little drama queen.

genshin au scara (wanderer) !!

Wanderer's favourite time of day is when the sun starts to set and he gets to have his long awaited tea time with you. You know the perfect way on how to make his tea and it's so natural to the point of when Wanderer tastes any other tea, it just can't compare to the way you make it.

Despite loving you very dearly, and he'd never admit this last bit aloud, he still has some sort of doubt against you. Should something happen to you that marks your permanent disappearance that neither you or him could prevent, what would he do? Wanderer simply does not know. And he certainly wouldn't want to know.

Wanderer enjoys the feeling of your hands in his hair. Whether your hands are soft, rough, cold, or warm, he doesn't mind. He just loves feeling your gentle and affectionate touch against his head as you play with his hair or even braid some strands together.

In general, Wanderer loves physical touch. Holding hands, soft kisses and hugs; It's all so wonderful to him. It makes him feel wanted and loved, like you actually think of him dearly. He loves it especially when you initiate it first. After that, he'll be more than comfortable doing it without waiting for you to do it ahead of him.

Wanderer keeps all of the silly trinkets, gifts and letters you've given him in a box that's kept in a very safe place where no one knows, not even you. Everytime he comes across it, unknowingly to him, a soft smile forms on his lips as he remembers the fact that he's this important to you.

Wanderer absolutely adores it when he makes you smile or laugh. He'll proudly smirk and throw in a teasing remark at this but is hiding the fact that he's just an embarrassed doll with an adorable lover. He loves making you feel good, both verbally and physically, as it feeds his ego and reassures him that he's doing great at being your beloved.

Wanderer's gifts for you are usually handmade, like the cute doll that looks like you which he got to keep so he could give you a doll that looks like him in return. He loves seeing you carry the doll around with you when you want to take it out of your messenger bag, holding it so gently as if it were Wanderer himself.

Whenever you're not paying attention, Wanderer looks at you and observes you. He loves noticing new little things about you, like the way you make little popping noises with your lips when you're bored or the way you subconsciously reach out to hold onto his hand. He adores every, single, little thing.

Wanderer often finds himself trying to impress you. If he sees you walking about, he'll immediately find something heavy to pick up and "coincidentally" run into you so he can make sure you see his amazing skills. You find this habit of his somewhat adorable as you smile and praise him for his strengths. He ends up getting quite flustered, in the end.

Depending on Wanderer's mood, he'll be very flirty one moment or very shy the next. If you manage to outdo him with his charming comments, trust me, he turns into the cutest blushing mess ever. He'll look away as he denies your question about whether he became timid or not.

🐾🍫🍮 : © haerin1 (do not translate, steal or take too much inspo from my works)

[ride-thedragon]

The Lack of Nuance with House Velayron.

I want to establish that the strange relationship to blackness in the show is confusing.

The show runners didn't write black characters. The Velaryons are Valyrian.

The cast is filled with black actors who draw parallels in their interviews to their blackness and this house. Without correction.

In a similar vain to how house Targaryen, house Hightower and house Lannister are all played by white people the Velaryons look black but are not written o be perceived as black in the narrative.

It's not inherently colorblind casting because the intent was to differentiate the Velaryons and Targaryens and to show how obvious Rhaenyra’s adultery is. It does, however, act in the same way. Their blackness isn't supposed to impact the narrative past that extent. Unfortunately, that's not how race works in media. Look at Bridgerton. For example, they knew they wanted to include racial elements to justify their alternate history while imploring colorblind casting and building these characters around their actors.

The biggest issue that comes from this understanding is that because they didn't write the script with black people in mind and just wrote it thematically to reach up to the dance, they end up sidelining and putting black characters into a lot of reductive stereotypes and fulfilling harmful tropes that contribute to the oppression of real world black people.

Laena is the second choice bride for Daemon, a white prince. He spends their marriage, making it known that he'd prefer to be with his other niece while not discounting the fact that they are happy enough for their circumstance.

Laena is a black girl who is passed over twice in the narrative for white women for different reasons. Her husband can't truly love her or their black children to the full extent he would her white counterpart.

Laenor is a gay man who can not do his duty to the realm and, as a result, does not sleep with his wife, causing her to look for a man who will essentially making his successor not from his blood.

Laenor is a black gay man explicitly traumatized during a wedding, not being able to fulfill his duty. His wife finds someone willing to do it during this time and he agrees to take the blame. The kid doesn't look like him. This pattern and behaviour continues because it can cost these kids their life. Rhaenyra actively contributes to the erasure of black succession for this house, choosing instead to sleep with and have kids by a white man.

Certain things work with this change. Corlys saying 'history does not remember blood it remembers names' gives 'I'm not black I'm OJ'.

The perception of success defines him more than the inherent loss of blackness he's pandering, too.

That wasn't the show's intention, though. None of my reading was intended to be placed on the story.

They made Laena into a sapphire who ended her life brutally after thinking it would be lost to childbirth.

The statistical and historical relationship to black women and childbirth was a burden the show runners did not consider.

It gets worse when the writers call it a 'dragon riders death' because it's so much more brutal than the death she endures in the book. A black woman chooses a brutal death as opposed to being helpless in childbirth. That's not imagery that was utilized well.

Laenor rededicating his life to his family after his sisters death only to be replaced by a white man and killed off violently (not really though, he just abandoned his family).

They also casually make him and his dad absent fathers.

With Corlys, they unknowingly employ Uncle Tom tropes with him while making him absent from his family, and next season, a cheater with an outside family.

Vaemond is a black man being gaslit all around him, and when he stands up for what is a real concern to have in his shoes, in a moment where he chooses to be unapologetic and angry he's brutally killed by a white protagonist. They punish the black character who didn't want to assimilate.

Again, this wasn't the writers intention because they are not writing black character. With someone like Nettles, this relationship to the narrative will be clearer. The racism and prejudice she faces in the story are different from the Velaryons because she's perceived as other or black in this world. Like Missandei and Grey Worm, she's a black character in the universe.

However, the imagery that these things invoke can not be avoided just because you don't focus on them. That's even more reckless because you get the diversity points, claim there is a reason behind their blackness, and then utilize reductive tropes and stereotypes.

I truly think they should've utilized the Bridgerton method and attributed the difference to dragonriding and the fact that a lesser dragon riding family would still be better than a rich non dragon riding family and that their ability to have dragon riders now should evaluate their status even though, through the show we see it not shifting their dynamic.

Racism and the stereotypes that come from it aren't based on anything tangible. White hair dragon riders through marriage and people with white hair who inherently can claim a dragon by blood alone is the same nonsense racism is based on. It's not really an important distinction but a necessary one to perpetuate and hold power. It could simply be a prejudice that the Velaryons acknowledged is there and are trying to break through.

This is a good show. It was beautifully done with the source material they had, but consciousness when it comes to perception and duality are so important when it comes to media, especially when writing for marginalized groups.

I would've loved to see Laenor and Rhaenyra have a discussion along the lines of her icing him out of their family unit, replacing him during a hard time. Or him actively acknowledging the burden of his position as heir with Luke and relating to his inability to do his duty and Luke's burden of perceived bastardy.

I'd love to see a Corlys and Vaemond Arguemnt of Corlys' assimilation to the politics of Westeros and the identity of house Velayron being lost as a result.

Laena could've acknowledged her worth to their marriage, calling Daemon out on his complacency to their collective happiness and expecting him to be better would've ate, cleared and devoured.

Imagine that last scene coupled with book Laena's death. I would've secured the Emmy for Nanna.

Not only does this add to the world building, but it sets up future (technically past) relationships between the Velaryons and someone like Nettles. Between them and Targaryens.

I need a cold cigarette. I will end this by saying the framework should they decide to establish this better is already there. It's just unfortunate that we lost three cool people before the nuance would hit.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

What do you think about this take? If you ask me, it’s a huge reach, they’re seriously coping. https://www.tumblr.com/linnoya-writes/708121534055759872/kataang-but-its-only-a-2-year-age-difference?source=share

"They always say Katara was a mother to everyone" No, she was the mom FRIEND. That's very different. Everyone calls her MOTHERLY and say she SOMETIMES acts like a mom, Sokka was the only one who said "When I think of mom, I can only think of Katara", and even then they still have an older-brother, younger-sister dynamic.

"Aang got to have a normal childhood" At first? Yes. Then he was being treated so differently just being the Avatar that he felt he had to run away. Then he also had to experience the trauma of waking up to discover basically everyone he loved is dead and that the world he knew no longer existed, and that he is the person everyone expects to magically solve everything.

He is a traumatized child-soldier just like Katara. Get over yourself.

"Katara is 14, going on 25" Katara is 14 latching onto Aang because he allows her to act like a kid again. Katara is 14 making a mean comment on Toph being blind because she's a temperamental kid who is annoyed at her frind. Katara is 14 snapping her annoying sibling. Karata is 14 immediately trusting Jet because she's a kid first discovering what hormones crushes are. Katara is 14 crying because her dad left, even if she can understand why he did it.

She FORCES herself to act like an adult, but she's still a child. Biologically, mentally, spiritually.

"Katara comfortably dresses up as Aang's mom" and as her brother's heavily pregnant wife - does that mean she not only thinks of Sokka as husband material, but also wants to sleep with him and have his babies to repopulate their home?

And she thinks she looks convincing, and that a couple from the COLONIES, aka not originally from the Fire Nation, would have FIRE as their last name. She calls herself "Sapphire Fire" with a straight face. She also felt comfortable pretending to be Aang's grand-daughter.

It's a cartoon aimed at children, with these KIDS saving the day through CHILDISH shenanigans.

"Aang was goofball and that wants to play games and have fun, so he was 12, going on 8" My guy, we're all mostly adults watching a show aimed at 7-year-olds, that doesn't mean we're mentally stuck on that age or regressing. Having fun is not a sign of immaturity.

And in case you forgot, Katara liked Aang because she WANTS to do the same stuff he does. By that logic, isn't she ALSO an 8-year-old?

"I don't even know if Aang knew what a vagina was, and neither did you, potential kataang fan" Zutarians LOVE projecting, don't they? (And americans love pretending people only find out about sex when they turn 18)

Aang is a 12-year-old boy with hormones coming out of his ears and he got visibly shy and THRISTY when Katara was helping him with his waterbending stance in her undergarnments. He knows. And it's weird that you pretend he doesn't just because you don't think he's as hot as Zuko.

You not finding someone hot doesn't make them a sexless angel.

[liviavanrouge]

Livia x Delia Headcanons

This is my second favorite Livia ship, I just adore it!

Livia and Delia met when Livia was sent to a summer school exchange, where she met Evonie, Delia and the girls

She and Delia clicked near immediately after meeting, despite Delia being jealous of how fast she became close friends with the girls

Livia is Delia's sword and her shield, protecting her when the time calls

Delia in return makes Livia scarfs, gloves and more

Livia meets Delia's father, he was initially scared and wary but warmed up to her

You can bet that she swore to take care of Delia

And take care of Delia she did

Delia no longer gets left alone, Livia is bothering her almost every moment of the day

Delia found books on Fae jaguar courting, but it wasn't useful since Livia was a fae demon jaguar

Livia has no idea how to court someone either, so she just turns to giving flowers

Lilia and Malleus visits her at the summer school

She immediately drowns them in questions about courting

Lilia jokingly suggests kidnapping or running away with her, but Malleus shuts that idea down QUICK

"What it's a great idea!" "No."

Malleus hands Livia a book on fae jaguar courting, which Lilia frowns at

Lilia did not want his daughter with that book at all....

"Malleus...why.." "Sorry.."

Delia started noticing the signs of fae jaguar courting immediately

She becomes flustered and shy afterwards

Livia also started letting Delia touch her wings

It was tradition to allow your mate or the one you're courting to touch your wings

Delia's biggest mistake was accepting a shawl from Livia

She immediately realized that she just accepted being the girls mate

"Delia? Are you alright?" "AHHHH! I'M FINE!"

Giving a shawl to the one you're courting is a sign of accepting them as your partner

And lets just say, Delia was in for a wild ride

She was brought to meet Livias family afterwards

Thea was excited, Lilia had to calm his wife down

"LILIA, SHE'S. SO. CUTE!!" "My love, calm down please."

Silver was very suspicious of Delia, but accepted her nonetheless

"Hm...hello." "Uh hi?"

Golden and Vil were both highly interested in Delia, finding her adorable

"Isn't she adorable, Vil?" "Her cheeks are so cute."

Shadow did not like Delia AT ALL, the only people he cared about were his parents and siblings

"Don't! Touch me, human!" "Oh sorry.."

Maria and Delia instantly became best friends over their love of plants

"I love sunflowers!!" "So do I!!"

Kuro found her annoying

"Back off!" "KURO BE NICE!!" "Sorry.."

Elikai and Barin accepted her so quickly

"New little sister!" "She's so cute!"

Silk is highly amused by Livia's choice

"Hm, petite..." "E-Excuse me..?"

Livias younger siblings love Delia and always find ways to steal her attention

"Ms Delia, come play with us!" "Oh sure!"

Yeah, no, Livia clings to her mate when her younger siblings try that

"Big sis, let her go!" "Nah you little attention thieves!" "Liv, they're kids.." "But your attention is mine, Delia.."

Delia watches the brawls Livia has with Malleus, which always leaves her dumbfounded

"You win again, Beastie." "Ha! I ALWAYS win!"

Queen Maleficia adores Delia, and spoiled her a little, which Livia put a stop to

"I think a sapphire necklace would suit you." "Gran Gran Maleficia, NO!"

Since Livia is crowned princess of the valley of thorns that meant Delia would be ruling beside her

Delia loves the valley of thorns, even though people were giving her warning glares

Galli and Vespin warned Delia that if she hurts Livia there's a line of people waiting to make her pay

Livia slapped the twin boys outside their head with her wings and scolded them

Nap times are a common thing for them

Livia needs to regain energy from nature so she can continue with her day

When winter came around, Delia got protective of her girlfriend and bundled her up

Lilla had told her that winter is a death sentence for Livia and that she'd be at risk of dying even if she stepped outside for a second

Livia chuckled as Delia bundled her up then the two went on their way

"You're so protective, I love it." "I will not have you dying on me!"

Livia just laughs it off

But then Darwin came, and tried to steal Delia away

Livia was not having that, this man was given promised threats

Darwin just shrugged it off, saying those were empty threat's

That was until the threats became real

Fireballs thrown at his head

Livias pet black panther tried to bite him

Bees were dropped on him

Sebek purposefully fired an arrow at his head

He backed off afterwards and Delia was relieved

After the summer school ended, and the all girls school combined with Nightsword Academy, the two saw each other more often

Livias best friends were the first introduced to Delia and they loved her

Epel especially because he was glad to see his best friend so happy

Delia definitely scolds Livia whenever she does something wrong

"That was mean leaving Darwin surrounded by sharks!" "He's a jerk." "Still, he could've gotten badly hurt!" "Sorry..."

Silver starts warming up to Delia, grateful she kept Livia in place

Due to Livia being dorm leader, she becomes busy

Between her duties and keeping her students in check, she hardly has time anymore

Delia understands and brings her drinks and snacks

"Remember to take care of yourself, Liv!" "I will don't worry."

Livia finds time to introduce Delia to her flock

Maci and Fennel are suspicious

Izuka is nice towards Delia but is also being suspicious and distant

Midnight, Granite and Gracy love Delia but they're also being wary

Titan doesn't acknowledge Delia as Livia's partner and settles for ignoring her

Delia loves watching Livia fly with her flock

After the Ocean Adventure event, Delia absolutely scolded Livia for hours since she had been worried sick

You can bet Livia sat there and listened as well

After graduation, the two go to the Land of Pyroxene to get Delia's stuff

Delia's father and stepmother were sad to see her go but sent her off with warm smiles

Delia fit in with the others in the Draconia castle quickly

The council picked on her a bit, but they stopped after Livias wrath was placed on them

Delia started taking classes in etiquette and other things

Livia soon suggested that she go learn from King Farenas wife

During the Apprenticeship Event, Livia trained in etiquette and more under Queen Amara's guidance

Delia takes her offer and leaves to learn under Queen Amara's teachings

The two don't see each other for a year

When they do, Delia is radiating confidence, having the aura of an Afterglow savanna woman

When Florina comes to visit with Rollo, and chaos happens

Delia and Florina are growling and hissing at each other with hostility

Mind you, Delia is a human so this surprised Livia

Rollo and Livia are terrified of the hostile energy radiating from their lovers

The two pull their wives away and apologize to each other

Livia and Delia end up getting married a month after the incident

Rollo always makes sure to bring the twins since Florina is less hostile with their kids around

After rescuing orphans from different facilities and dungeons, Livia and Delia adopts Kenya

Kenya becomes next in line for the throne after Livia with Adia being able to claim it after he was king

Delia starts to get along with Florina but still has hostile disagreement

Livia and Rollo are worried for their wives and their own sanity

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

15 tags 15 mutuals! 💜💜💜

Tagged by: @bloodlessheirbyjacques and @pinespittinink thank you!

Tagging: @jezifster @mjjune @italiangothicwriteblr @rose-bookblood @memento-morri-writes and anyone else who wants in!

Answer these questions either with yourself or an OC. Imma do myself and Princess Sapphire because i want to.

Me~

Are you named after anyone? No joke, my mom named me after her favorite book character. She named one of my sisters after another favorite book character of hers too.

When was the last time you cried? I watched Dead Poets Society for the first time recently and HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHY DID NO ONE WARN ME I BAWLED MY EYES OUT and THAT ENDING NOBODY TOUCH MEEEE IT WAS WAS SO SAD

Do you have kids? Nope, and I don't plan to. Imma live my best life as the cool witchy and single wine aunt

Do you use sarcasm? What? No.... I would never..... :)

What's the first thing you notice about people? How they stand and how they speak. I can tell a lot of things about them just based on that, including whether or not they're a fellow neurodivergent

What's your eye color? Blue <3

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings, I CANNOT do horror it scares the shit out of me. (spooky is cool, but actual horror and jumpscares is too far)

Any special talents? Does my obsession with history count? I do paint but it's more of a hobby and I'm not trying to get good at it

Where were you born? In the cult ridden hell that is Utah :P

What are your hobbies? Writing, obviously. But I also read, paint, and watch movies.

Have you any pets? Two dogs! I have a little maltese mutt who's six years old and a crumuginy old man, and a three year old goldendoole puppy who is the biggest turdler (toddlerxturd) there ever was. We also have a rabbit in our backyard but he belongs to my sister and she's the one who takes care of him.

What sports do you play/have played? HAHAHAHA No. Sports and I have never gotten along. Let's just say that the scenes of Mia in PE class in the movie Princess Diaries sums up my experience with sports perfectly.

How tall are you? 5'4''... Being short runs in my family, you should see my grandma, she's been a whole head shorter than me for a long time

Favorite subject in school? ENGLIGH AND ART BABY! But history also has a special place in my heart

Dream job? Full-time author and part-time party princess

Princess Sapphire~

Are you named after anyone? Nope, I'm the first in my line with my name!

When was the last time you cried? ... When I was like six I think? Father wouldn't let me ride the horses cause they were "too dangerous", but now I ride one all the time and ITS HARDDD.

Do you have kids? No... *looks at Raven* but maybe one day... if I met the right person...

Do you use sarcasm? Who me? Neverrrr ;)

What's the first thing you notice about people? The way they talk. It says a lot about how they act and who they are inside.

What's your eye color? Sapphire blue, in case you haven't guessed, that's where I get my name from.

Scary movies stories or happy endings? Happy endings are boring, gimme the good stuff, I'll take scary stories!

Any special talents? I can run really fast

Where were you born? In castle of Greyvenhill <3

What are your hobbies? Adventuring! anything that involves going outside and exploring.

Have you any pets? No but I would love to have one. Does Raven's horse Dante count?

What sports do you play/have played? Running and Dancing

How tall are you? 5'5''... I'm not that short!

Favorite subject in school?

Dream job? A pirate or cartographer <333

[pinkevilwriter]

Is it too much to ask ✒️ for ALL your OCs names? If it is too much to ask for all of them, how about just your top (fave) three? (I just see that you reblog a lot the ask game I invented and got a little worried that no one asked)

THIS IS A PERFECT BLESSING! WARNING: A LONG POST OF ALL MY OCS!

Why did I name them in such a unique way? Well, I like unique character names, so I made up my characters’ names. Some them are my former RP OCS from when “Quizilla” and “Scholastic THE STACKS” were around. And I used to RP A LOT on “Quotev” and “GoodReads”. So now they’re part of my WIPS in special ways.

MY LONG LIST OF OCS:

Shine

Kreze

Ayden

Millya

Cheye

Roege

ShaTrev

Beigh

Kyker

Myver

Vylera

Rykrer

King Yokon

Queen Starla

Princess Keya (sister to: Ayden, Kreze, and Cheye in my stories)

Prince JedKith

(Keya’s children: Starla, Yokon, Nakima, Aspen, Lethia, and Keith)

Myka

Rykyn

Naomi

Ryker

Doctor Rickie

Nurse Tallya

Paramedic Royan

Paramedic LillyAnn

Nifa

Alan

Roka

Bymr

Kynthia

Phira

Brena

Boris

Tora

Astor

Asher

Shera

RedAnna

Noka

Fyre

Ener

Twins Kisha and Sasha

Ahwa

Twins Nemi and Neku

Twins Ruth and Esther

Bucke

Kalika

Jayden

Kendra

SageRah

Twins Golda and Silvera

Twins Angelinga and Angeling

Alden

Twins Andila and Andyla

Hallya

Cherry

Hope

Faith

(Mayleigh/Mayleigha)

Aleigha

Nammy

TayDee

Bucklee

Arden

Eydith

Kymr

The Birthstone Sisters: Garnet, Amethyst, Aquamarine, Diamond, Emerald, Pearl, Ruby, Peridot, Sapphire, Opal, Topaz, and Tanzanite)

Twins Kayhan and Laynah

Brothers Maxy, Jakey, and Chrisy

Pink-Opal

(Other Versions of Shine: PinkShine, Shine-if-fi, Shine-man-rah)

Twins Kayla and Kalyan

Kaye

The Talzanna twins (I can’t remember their first names)

Twins Asha and Asur

Ina

Ena

Ryler

Zace

Jax

Bolero

Keren

PinkPharaoh

Phara

Keyrah

Holden

Midnight The Alicorn

Misty The Alicorn

Mischief The Cat

VILLAINS: Victor, Justin, Deven, Onate, Bathia, Rochellea, Twyla, Reha, Hoyt, Jerrel, Rochelle-Lorn, Reno, Valtasha, Kahadrak, King Lizar, Queen Riga

My Horse Characters: Midnight (black mare), Starlight (black mare), Moonlight (black mare), Princess (white mare), King (white stallion), Queen (white mare), Prince (white stallion), Goldster (brown stallion), Copper-An (brown mare), Pharaoh (A Stupid name for my stallion OC).

(My former Alicorn Characters who are Regular Horses: Pink, Blue, Red, Purple. Pink is a mare, Blue is a stallion, Red is a stallion, and Purple is a mare), Jake

My Zebra Characters: Shasta (mare), Wild-Dancer (mare), Shane-ster (stallion), Wild-Der (stallion), and maybe others. (Though the earlier versions of Shasta  and Wild-Dancer were a lot different back when I pretend-play Animal Game which went dark a few times.)

My Fox Characters: Foxy (female), Foxanda (female), Foxander (male), and Foxan (male).

My Bobcat Characters: Bonna (female), Bobby (male), and there were a couple more.

My Cats And Dogs Characters: Akan (male dog), Jazzy (female cat), and Special Real Life pets included in this story (Ki-Yah female dog, Chloe female dog, Casey male Cat, Barney male cat, Jasper male cat).

The mother (Kayleigha) and the Father (Rick-An)

The Children's Names: Emily, Jadenaha, Tabitha, Bethela, Leigha, Releigha, 

Other Kids Names:  Areny, Mona, Avery, Spencer, Gloria, Sebestien, Glora, Elena, and more.

Stella

Ivory

Tonie

Brucey

Stevie

Brenda

Klent

Gina

Twins Darcy and Dereky

(Milly)

Kyara

Glan

Kizzy

Keze

Emily

Alanna

Taiy

Keyla

Renden

Neddan

Zaria

Kotege

Pinka

Darka

Cortsey

Kvas

Ka-Ger

Renea

Kena

Jayvas

Zayn

Zayden

Harka

Brenner

Kenda

Jacy

Gaby

Lyra

Shana

Jane

Robert

Maria

Derek

Kent

I’M PRETTY SURE I HAVE MORE OCS NAMES SOMEWHERE IN MY OTHER NOTEBOOK!

[bjorkncaddel]

⸻ “how does it feel?” he then inquired as she felt her husband caressing her baby bump, and she mused for a minute or two. ❛ Sometimes painful, but mostly weird. I don't really know how to explain it. And there are days I feel less lonely with them. ❜ She could not find the words to describe. It was weird knowing she was carrying human beings. Her grey-bluish hues met his gaze his blue hues. ❛ It's like you know there's a person, but they don't seem real, I don't know how to explain that to you. And I noticed I felt them squirming more. ❜ She concludes, unable to describe in a word how she feels about their babies. ❛ Only the big boss will give his permission. ❜ The big boss is her doctor, this is how she was calling him to Ry. After all, he is giving her orders, isn't he? But for her good and their babies. ⎯ She got all excited when Ryan offered his 'massage' service. She never was one to decline. Happily, the Swedish blonde turns her back at him, adjusting her position in the bed, with a wide smile spread on her lips.

Neva closed her eyes and felt his hand working on the knot of tensions in her back, and she moaned softly in delight. ❛ Don't feel afraid of press it. Go for it! Harder…❜ She gives him the guideline to touch her properly. After a moment or two in silence, that was only broken by her soft moans of pleasure due to the massage, her eyes shut. A hand on her baby bump, feeling their babies moving again. ❛ Yes. It's only her. My brothers are free to visit, as well my sister in law. My brother's wife. ❜ She refers to the eldest brother. She talks more to Neva than her own brother, and occasionally bring her nieces to see her.

When he talks in a playful tone she slaps his hand in a jokily manner. ❛ Oh, well… Okay then. ❜ In regards to bring a portable piano not being an issue. Neva likes to teach a new trick on piano, it had been a while since she played one. She only back to play after meeting Kian, trying to find something to connect with him or bonding with him. Ryan told her he was shy, unlike her niece. Once he held her face and pulling for a kiss, she kissed him back, shoving her tongue inside of his mouth and she disconnected a few things connected to her body, so the machine wouldn't 'beep' with her heartbeats that increased when she kissed him. ❛ It does sounds like something Elias would do. And he will meet new kids around his age. ❜

Upon his next words, she was taken by surprise. ❛ Oh?! Did we? Who is that? ❜ She asked, brushing Ryan's hair momentarily, and touching on his face. Then she watched him lift her feet, and start a massage on them. God it is so good! ⎯ The nurse knocked on the bedroom before entering and she came with a big bouquet of flowers and handed it to Neva, and a small velvet box from Cartier. And then she left the room, leaving the couple alone, Neva checked who sent the flowers, and it was her old brother. Opening the velvet box, a beautiful blue sapphire ring, from her father. ❛ My brother is transforming this place into a floriculture. ❜ She shook her head.

——the smile rested easily on his lips as he listened to her speak of their babies; it is always endearing when she does, even if there is still the lingering concern in the back of his mind but he doesn’t think of it now. “they recognize some of yours, too,” his hand stroked over her bump, and man he thought he cannot wait to meet them. perhaps it was better too, that she had given herself the time to get used to them, grow fonder of the idea as they grew, too. “how does it feel?” he then inquired, his blue gaze drifting from the bump to her grey-blue eyes. he may have read about pregnancy, spent hours talking to them, and he knows they recognize and react to his voice, but it all seems to lack in comparison to her experience. the complications and restrictions aside, it does sound nothing short of magical to be able to feel them; their little motions, their movements; and they, hers too —like when she is upset or happy, when she is having food they enjoy in contrast to one they aren’t fond of the flavor. another smile formed on his lips at her following words. “no, no, I want to join you if your doctor allows it!” he wouldn’t miss it, he loves going to her scans and ultrasounds, to see them grow; even when he worked extra hours and shifts, he never missed an appointment they went to together. however, the doctors don’t always allow him to be present now for every exam she has to go through ( which, he understands, especially given the delicacy of her condition they wouldn’t want them to worry if they happened to see something they don’t like ).

he began gently massaging her back to help alleviate some of the pain and discomfort she felt —he liked doing that, even before she got pregnant, he liked taking care of her in whichever way to help her feel better. there was silence for a while, his hands expertly now working on the pressure points, yet still with caution, when she spoke once again. it was an unexpected request, but it did not come as a surprise to him. ever since he first met the couple, her parents, he got the impression that her father is not that awful, but he is highly influenced by her mother and therefore also treated her shitty, though did make an effort ( in his own way, which was rather tactless) to show his interest for her; a care, of shorts. “don’t worry about it, baby” he reassured her, pressed a kiss on her temple. another on her shoulder. “should I let reception know?” he asked her because sometimes he was away and Linnea could get there if ever that happened, and he didn’t want her to get upset because of this. Besides, everyone coming into the clinic had to go through the reception first, even visitors, and they could deny her entry —and they didn’t need a reason other than she was unwanted; he knew Cordelia had already given Karen’s details because she thought it wasn’t bellow her to go just to pester Neva.

“for who?” he said in a teasing, playful tone. it wouldn’t be very convenient to explain to reception why they needed it that, but it was no trouble either and the room was big enough for it not to be in the way, besides it folded and he could put it under the couch, even. “it’s no problem, I will bring one and you can do both.” and Kian liked it when Neva was teaching him how to play something on the piano —he always wanted to show him afterward, and he always let him because he knew he would go home and would show his nanny, too, all excited. he laughed at the face she made and grabbed her face, pulling her a little closer to kiss her. In truth, he felt bad for how little attention his nephew was getting from his parents; his brother was slightly less awful, but still worked most of the time and hardly had time for him, and he always tried to make excuses for them, but as he was growing older, it was hard, he understood more. “he said Elias invited them to the pool party,” he brushed a strand of her away from her face, still holding her gaze. “he was very excited, though a little shy because other kids will be there…” but it was a small gathering anyway, he would be fine.

“did I tell you we have a new visitor at home?” he said after a moment, squeezing her hand in his as he stood up to look for his phone. “though, unfortunately will stay until this weekend…” he added as he looked through the stuff he had brought with him when he walked in. and when he found it, he returned to sit on the bed with her, just at the end of it, and handed it over. he carefully lifted her feet and put them on his lap as he began massaging them.

[theanimekid]

Double Trouble

Sung Jin-Woo x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Sung Jin-woo being left alone with the twins' for 24 hours

Warnings: fluff and shadow shenanigans, also Karmish is in this

Part 2 of Sir... We have a problem

It began off as an uncomplicated wager

" You think... that you can oversee our daughters for a full day without difficulties?" You arched your eyebrow in amusement as your husband held one of your 5-month-old daughters in his arm. Gently jumping her as she was studying her father's hair, yanking the strand as she babbled while the other one was playing with one of his shadow soldiers' infirmary group. The other twin, laughed and giggled as the shadow mage tickled her tiny belly. Your hubby nodded.

" Yea, and as their father, I'm willing to take the entire day spending with my precious little cuties." Your husband spoke with a fair and appealing voice as he brought his kid up to his face and rubbed it against hers while he gave you puppy dog eyes.

You sighed since your husband has always been busy with dungeon raids, and he did as though he hasn't been spending time with his own children, so your husband thought it would be okay for you to take a day off while he watched the twins.

"Okay, let's make a deal: If you can follow this list for the whole day, I'll let you watch them for next week and give you a special treat for your job well done." You emphasized the 'special treat' part. As you walked up to your husband, placing your head on his chest and hiking your leg on his hips.

He gives a teasing 'oh' "And what happens if I don't?" Giving you a signature smirk.

" No cuddles for two weeks." You teasingly commented. Knowing he will have no choice but to win this deal.

He gawked at you, arranging a hand on his chest. " You wouldn't- discharge me from my cuddling rights?" " I can, and I will. If you can follow the list from first to last."

One of the twins babbled as one of the magic shadow soldiers made small colorful fireworks out of their hands. She cooed in awe, and Iron stood holding the child in his lap, sitting down. His eyes sparkled with fascination. " Yeah... I got this." Jinwoo said with confidence as he helped you with your purse. You opened the door before your husband stopped you, " Aren't you forgetting something?" He said with a cheeky, teasing smile on his face. You sighed as you turned around in one place and gave a short passionate kiss, " Be good for your mama and dada, my little sapphires." You whispered to your baby and gave her a soft peck on the cheek. The door closed behind her, Jinwoo carried your daughter in the air, and she laughed happily. " You and sister ready to have some fun? Yeah?" He chattered as the list he was supposed to follow dropped on the ground.

The sky was as pure as day fluffy clouds covered the atmosphere, birds chirping like a song in a choir, not even a while three peaceful minutes later a giant shadow cast upon the poor little bird as a gust ignited wind blew it out of the the way with a confused squeak as it took a spiral. The sounds of laughter and cheers can he heard for miles as Karmish flew at full speed along with Beru making sure that morning one of them fall off the dragon’s back. Jinwoo held his daughters tightly as he had the best smile on his face.

“ yeah it’s fun isn’t it?” He said yelling happily . One of the little girls babbled as she pointed to the ocean. “Wanna go down there?” He cooed. The other one gave a big nod of determination. “ You heard them, to the ocean!” He ordered.

“As you wish, my king.”

He dived to the opened water head first, then gliding on top of it, as the water was split into nearly two. They cheered as the dragon was soaring above the water, his claws digging in it.

The girls cooed in awe as they saw their reflection in the waves. Beru asked with the most concern on his face, “ are you sure this is wise my king?” “. Of course I am! Look how happy they are!” He replied as he looked down at his daughters having the time of their lives. Unknown to them, a local fisherman recorded the entire thing since they entered.

The night fell on the horizon, and a small picnic blanket lay on the grassy floor as the pink and blue hues painted the sky along with the glittery stars. His daughters, Beru and Igris, played as he watched from afar. A gentle smile spread across his face. Any average child would’ve run away scared, but compared to his children, it’s completely normal. He’ll thank his wife for passing their boldness and compassion. The phone rang as he reached for his phone in the coat pocket and answered it. “Hello?”

“Hello, my shadow hubby.”

He stuttered in confusion. "Oh, H-H-Hi babe, uh...” 

“So... I coming back from my raid in the U.S. it ended early.”

He felt his eyes dilate in fear. Ah, shit. He swallowed thickly, “so, what time do you have to be home?." "In the next 40 minutes or so-" He hunged up within an instant. Crap! she got off early. I gotta head back now. He called his servants and gave them an order: pack the stuff and head home quickly. 

The car door opened as you walked out with a small suitcase in hand, you waved the driver goodbye and headed inside, not knowing about the shadow that flew above you, the keys jangled as you were about to unlock the door. Bur the door unlock itself, a welcoming smile on the shadow's soldiers face as he bowed, " Welcome Home my queen." You nodded in agreement. " It's good to be home, now where is your king and my children?," you asked as he grabbed the bag from your hand.

"They're waiting for you in the living room, my queen." He answered. He guided you to your shared living room. You can hear tiny giggles and babbles as you trod down the hallway. Your daughters were sitting against Tank's belly as the magic team showed off their new spells. Your husband sat on the couch and enjoyed the show. He followed to see you standing in the hallway with the softest smile on her face. He got up and greet you warmly, " Hey babe, how's the trip?' He kissed you on the cheek. " Everything was fine, my husband, how were the twins? Did they behave?" He nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. " Oh-Oh yeah! they were great, nothing out of the ordinary." Your arched your brow, something is going on. Before you could answer your phone rang. " Oh hold up a sec..." You opened your phone and saw a video that was posted a couple hours ago: The Giant Black Dragon Kipnapped Three people including two newborn twins.

A/n: I meant to post this sooner but I got sidetracked with another reader insert

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Belle Of The Ball: Dark! King! Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: So this my first ever proper dark fic and I’m so nervous. I finished it but my mind thinks it’s garbage. so I’m gonna post this now when I’m feeling a random spurt of courage and am confident in my work. So here’s my masterpiece, cookies.

This is for Dark!MCU  Festive Fic swap hosted by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor  and @darkmcuficswap

My giftee is @hermesmaximoff Hope you enjoy it love!

Thanking @firefly-graphics for the dividers: both personalised and general.

There is also an amateur somewhat okay shitty poster I decided to make which is included at the end.  

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC CONTAINING DUBIOUS CONSENT BORDERING NON-CON AND EXPLICIT SMUT. YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. LOSS OF VIRGINITY, ABUSE OF AUTHORITY, BREEDING KINK ALSO PRESENT.

Summary: Invited to the Royal ball by the benevolent monarch, you could barely control your excitement to visit the Capital. While you were busy admiring his prosperous reign, King Steve was quite occupied getting enamoured by you. As you try to fulfil the King’s demands, secrets find their way out.

CHARACTERS + GENRE: DARK!STEVE ROGERS X READER, SUPERNATURAL STEVE ROGERS X READER (read to find out what), ROYAL AU, HALLOWEEN THEME (I tried for the request, hope you do like it)

King Steve Rogers invites the princes and the princesses of all Kingdoms, near and afar,

To celebrate his several years of reign.

He requests thy kind and noble presence

At the joyous regale

of his auspicious ball

On the thirty first of October,

after sundown, in His Majesty’s finest castle.

Challenging thy with the unique theme of

A Halloween Masquerade Ball,

The King expects exceptional indulgence from all.

 The Most Grandiose Halloween Celebration is being organised with the spookiest of events within.

Come here if you dare.

“We have been invited to a royal party! My day couldn’t have been better!” Your elder sister exclaimed, jumping quite unladylike in your chambers, as you went through the details of the venue. You chuckled at her antics, knowing rather well that she would be scolded if someone else was present. 

“Emma, Mother has to approve first. As Lady Ava always says, don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

“As if mother would really decline an invite from the King, dear sister.” She rolled her eyes at you, not letting her enthusiasm die as you pondered over her words.

Your sister had a point though, the King summoning your presence was not to be taken lightly. The invitation came up handwritten in a scroll with the King’s wax seal atop it. It was placed elegantly beside a golden mask in a rectangular black box, that bore the Majesty’s sigil on the front.  

The theme of the ball wasn’t that peculiar if you reflected over it, the renowned monarch was also recognised for his distinct interest in eerie, unearthly beings. He was known for adventuring into haunted lands, mysterious manors and sinister soils, meeting up with people rumoured to be sorcerers and occultists.

Of course, the reason for his encounters was sometimes rumoured to be because of his familial distress, how he couldn’t find a mate to procreate with and conceive his own heir no matter what. Three females, who were pregnant with a progeny of his blood, none his wife though, had died during the first two or tercet months, reason unspecified why.  

Coming to You, you and your sister weren’t actual princesses, rather the daughters of one of the esteemed Ministers in the King’s cabinet. The benevolent King, however referred to the daughters of the town, more exactly, the Kingdom, as noblewomen. He held high reverence for the females and was the sole creditor to the improved condition of the women in this era. No matter how troubled his own life was, the King was the most merciful royal to be crowned to date, his people prospering under him.

Your sister nodded eagerly to your mother, drinking in her words like the fine tea you all had in the afternoons, while you just smiled at her advice.

 When you both met your mother for dinner, you were surprised to find her already informed about the invitation. Her conformity to the celebration astonished you even more, but Emma’s zeal was starting to rub off on you too by the end of the meal. 

Your mother continued, “Your father mentioned The Majesty is looking for a wife, quite possibly. He has been insistent in trying to get a successor the correct way this time, by courting the lady who piques his interest. Even though this might be a rumour, or some gossip spun by the ladies of the Cabinet, you both should try your best to be graceful and presentable. Among the hundreds of guests, he’d be having over, on the off-chance, if Gods allow, that either of you manages to entice him, it will only promise you the most pleasant of all forthcomings. It would also do me and your father some good, if you managed to find some other suitable bachelor, from a nice background to engage with.”

Your sister had always been one with the more overactive imagination out of you two, while you had been the more serene and poised one. When she’d be out playing with the children in your town, you’d be talking to the younger toddlers, drawing with chalks on the side. For every kid she splashed with water in the nearby sapphire river, you made tots flower crowns. These were the values you both grew up with, and these will be the values you’d die with.

After days of shopping velvet fabrics and silk textiles, and bothering your seamster to make sophisticated and stylish dresses, you both neared your day of departure. After some instructions to you both to represent your father and town well, your mother bid you adieu. It was nerve wracking to not have your mother by your side, for an event as big as this was, but since you both had passed more than twenty name days, you were expected to be proper, independent ladies. 

With a heavy heart and some self, positive affirmations, you and your sister embarked on the voyage, which was filled with her chitchat.

You only hoped that the gala was as exciting as your family made it out to be. That it was just a King trying to celebrate his sovereign with some western festival integrated together. That the event would not be as unnerving and creepy as the last line of his invitation made it out to be. 

For some unknown cause, it did not sit well with you. Your apprehensive intuition made you wary of the invitation for some reason, but you let your sibling’s zest take you over. What benefit would fretting get you?

The ball was far more pompous than anything you’d have imagined in your little head. All the ideas that Emma had come up with during your journey, to anticipate the extent of extravagance for the ball, were all exceeded with tenfold finesse. You had travelled to faraway, distant lands with your parents, but the King’s mansion, with all the festivity happening, was truly a sight to behold.

Entering The Capital had been the highlight of your excursion, you were sure earlier, but well you were proved wrong. Your father greeted you both when you had arrived, eager to see his angels after almost six moons, and had ensured you both got the best of the accommodations in the well-built, enormous fort. He introduced you to several of his comrades as well as their brooding, young lads and then, left you both to rest for the main event next eve. With two maids at your every beck and call, courtesy of your father, your time went smoothly and now you found yourself at the said Halloween themed celebration, staring around in awe of every little detail that had been so meticulously handled to make the event as dazzling as it was.

The servants were dressed rather ridiculously as cats, wearing some bizarre structure resembling cat ears, horribly short black dresses barely past their thighs and some whiskers draw using either coal or makeup, you weren’t sure. It was a poor attempt to make them appear feline. However, the food was as immaculate as everything else, entirely themed like only blood red wine, candied apples, chicken pumpkins, cheesecake brain, mummy muffins, some appetizer with bell peppers as jack-o-lanterns; these were the few that met your sights.

The hall was so grand, almost the size of three jousting arenas and playing fields combined with pillars having detailed architecture supporting the place. The walls were covered in scarlet, golden and black velvet drapes, the royal colours, and beautiful masquerade masks were pinned atop them, along the walls. Almost hundred round, white clothed tables filled the ballroom, with gold plated candlesticks and utensils upon them. The entire place had entertainers progressing around, the essence of it being magicians, clowns, contortionists, palm and tarot card readers. 

In the centre of the hall, was an empty space, reserved for the soon to be ensuing dancing. An orchestra on the side had beautiful instruments, playing soft melodies for now, reserving the upscale beats for later.

You had only read a few books on Halloween to be prepared but nothing could have geared you up for this. Your small-town self was gaping at everything with a childlike wonder while somehow your sister was quite composed and calm, somehow your roles had been reversed. 

Emma was wearing a blue gown, having several layers of nets and cloth, each a different shade of azure. She tried to dress as the mythical creature called mermaid, with crystal heels and a beaded neckline. Her masquerade mask had scales like fish, made using shining sequins. She looked so gorgeous, truly managing to look captivating.

You on the other hand were dressed like an angel, which you were against, finding it too mainstream and typical and wanted to dress like an enchantress with violet and jade colours, which your mother immediately negated. On demand of your sister, she let you wear a fluffy white ball gown, and had you made wings with dove feathers, an apparatus which was astonishingly light to wear. Using her art and craft skills, Emma made you a headband with two wires attached to a metal ring, shaped like an angel’s halo. The loop at top made of some special metal that glowed golden in the dark, making it look like a real, floating halo. Your mask had a fur lining on it, and silver sparkles were sprinkled all over you, with pretty makeup on your face, courtesy of your sibling.

The change in music brought you out of your reverie, as trumpets and harps began to hum, signifying the arrival of the King on the grand staircase. He had a crimson red velvet cape descending his broad shoulders, his tuxedo underneath could hide neither his long legs nor his bulging, protruding biceps. His black, shining shoes cost more than your entire apparel, you were certain. 

As your gaze ascended his masculine form, you were mesmerised furthermore with his high cheekbones, full lips tainted cherry pink, a Grecian slanting nose, sleek eyebrows, luscious blonde hair, a thick beard and the best of all yet, cerulean blue eyes, the prettiest you’d ever seen in the entirety of your small life. The ladies beside you, Emma included, had the same reaction whether they had witnessed his Highness before or not. Every female’s gaze seemed to flicker between his azure eyes and the Golden crown resting atop his blonde locks, flooded with rubies and emeralds and gemstones you weren’t sure your books had.

For a moment you felt his eyes land on you, which surprised you even more so, that you questioned yourself about it, but his cheeky grin and wink confirmed it, make you shiver involuntarily as heat spread through your face while a titillating stir ran through you, a first for you. His impeccably white teeth were clearly visible now, showing two elongated canines, which finally gave you a sense of his attire, paired with his blush lips, A Vampire.

He spoke a few words, eyes unsteadily wavering, observing different members of the gathering. He let the dances commence, partnering with his most suitable match at the festivity, the daughter of the wealthiest lord. After the first song was over, other couples joined alongside him while you stood at the side, observing everything. Only mere moments ago had your sister been courted by a young man, the two of them shooting each other coy glances since they had entered. 

A tap on your shoulder had you puzzled, you turned around focus landing on warm, brown eyes. You recalled him to be Lord Stark’s son, Peter, having met him yesterday at dawn. His familiar brown eyes gave you sense of comfort, which you liked, not being alongside Emma now.

“Shall we?” He asked, his cheeks ruby like yours were, as he extended the palm of his hand towards you. You giggled, smiling like a little babe who got extra cookies for dessert, and accepted his hand. Sauntering to the dancing arena, you only prayed to The Heavens above that Lady Ava taught you enough to embarrass neither yourself nor your guild.

Tracing his steps and following his lead, you did manage to dance without falling, which was a surprise seeing how spread out your wings were. You and him made easy conversation, about your hometowns and interests.  You saw your Father proudly looking at you and Emma, dancing with lads, you guessed, he approved of.

As the song ended and the orchestra played a transitioning tune between the melodies, a cough sounded beside you as you and Peter stopped. Your eyes widened as you nervously curtsied beside Peter, A ‘Your Majesty” falling from both your lips.

“If it’s not too much trouble, may I share a dance with the most stunning dame here?” 

Peter politely stepped back, letting go of your waist, as The King’s wide stature more than filled his place. Your heart was beating rather loudly, blood pumping to your ears as you tried to make sense of what was happening. In your peripheral vision you could see the prying eyes of others looking at you both, ready to criticize you for one wrong move. Your father watched intently, a slight warning in his eyes to not mess this opportunity up while your sister comfortingly smiled at you. You tried to even your breaths and make sense of what he was saying, to not just stand and gape like a fool in court.

As the harmony played out, he swayed you around, lifting you up and twirling you around. Compliments spewed out from his lips, making you crimson like freshly ripened apples. You couldn’t keep up with your expression of gratitude through your words as he admired your eyes, your elegance and your ensemble which just couldn’t make him shift his eyes from you. 

After two songs had played out, he left as suddenly as he had come, with a promise to meet you later. You watched him dance with other maidens, who approached him when you were dancing together, entertaining every approaching lady like an excellent host.

You made your way to the side, hoping to get some liquor, or at least some fluid in your veins and not faint right there this moment. Emma came up beside you while you were having wine, and rubbed your back in a parental way. Her eyes communicated her understanding of how overwhelmed you felt at the instant. Her date and Peter soon came and kept you both company for the rest of the night. As duos danced and people got intoxicated, you had to call it a night on behalf of your sister, her incessant giggling make you worried for her inebriated self. 

You slipped her out before your father caught her and gave her a stern talking to and tucked her in her bed keeping a glass of water and some fresh fruits for her on the bedside wooden bench. You concluded retiring for the night yourself but only after assuring your father of your whereabouts and well beings. Before returning to the hall, you took off your wings and the halo, also opting to leave the mask behind as the fur tickled your skin. Your makeup hadn’t ruined in the heat of the hall, it was a miracle. You made your way to the Hall, hoping to find your father, assumingly drunk with all his entourage.

Two hallways before the decorated ballroom were you pinned to the wall, one hand of your attacker covering your parted lips while the other held your face delicately, with a lover’s touch. A split second was all it took for you to be immobilised by this man and another by your wavering form to recognise the cobalt blue eyes and blonde curls. When The King was certain you wouldn’t scream, his hand left your mouth slid upwards, mirroring his other hand, with thumbs in front of your ears and palms resting on your cheeks.

“Your Majesty?” You mumbled back, your voice somehow even lower, afraid for yourself and even more so terrified to offend him.

“Say, would you come for a while to my chambers, the view of the creek from my balcony is splendid.”

His choice of words gave you an option, but his eyes, almost hypnotically told you there was only one correct answer.

“You are the one, I can feel it.” He whispered lowly but your heightened senses gladly picked it up.

You meekly nodded, your inner self surprised at your body moving of its accord alongside him, as your mind started voiding of thoughts like reporting to your father, checking up on Emma. You felt like you were trapped in someone else’s form and fought with an invisible force to take over the reins of your own body.

You did not fail to notice the lack of guards outside the King’s chamber and how every entrance managed to open itself. The King wasn’t lying about the picturesque scene though, as you stood in the balcony, hair getting ruffled by the strong breeze that seemingly came from nowhere.

Your body stiffened as King Steve came uncharacteristically close to you and slid his hands around your middle, his nose nestled in your locks, inhaling deeply.

His lips descended your neck, laying feathery kisses on his path as you stood there, unable to even move your hands or turn around. This out of body sensation was broken when you felt intense pain on piercing of your skin where your head met your torso. You suddenly gained all wits and enough strength to flail your limbs around but all your might wasn’t enough to even stir the man from his task. Your throat couldn’t gather enough energy to scream, though you doubted anyone would come. You started getting light headed and only then did he stop, carrying you in his arms to his widespread four poster bed, mattress as soft as sponge and sheets as silky as butter. Too weak to fight him off, you harvested all your energy in staying conscious as your gaze danced around, trying to make sense of every object present but not awake enough to notice too many details. The wine you drank did not make it any better.

As you laid on the stranger’s bed, you felt his body sit beside you, holding your neck; leaning down, his lips meeting yours for the first time. You did not reciprocate, neither did you have the strength nor the will, while his tongue slipped inside your mouth, roaming around like a traveller in foreign land.

As the kiss drew on, you felt some energy sidle inside you, enough for your mind to function again but not ample enough to fight off the brawny thief who robbed you of your first kiss. King Steve broke off the kiss and connected your foreheads together, his indigo eyes turning black in want, leaving you a frightening and gasping mess.

He backed away, sitting more straighter now as his hand drew back from around your neck and slid along your stomach, nearing the most intimate part of your body, even though there were still layers of cloth present. His hands did not stop there, however, and made their way downwards only stopping at the hem of your gown and slipping inside.

You shrieked out suddenly, becoming aware of his intentions quite late and grasped his wrist that rested now on your knee. 

“Your Majesty, I……I can’t-”

“Do you wish to refuse your King?”

You looked down, caught in the dilemma of wanting your safety and offending him once again. Your virtue had to be preserved till marriage, your mother had taught you, but on the other hand, the King’s words were the law.

“Answer Me.” The King’s cold voice broke through your thoughts, not a shout but still scarier than a yell.“

Your Majesty, I’ve never engaged in s-” You started tearing up, lower lip wobbling and body shaking at the thought of the future. You did not see this ending beneficial in any scenario. If you lost your virtue, you would never get wed but if you refused the King and he felt insulted, your family and your connections would be in the ruins, he held that much power over you.

Cradling your face with his other hand, he began again, “You think I’m not already aware, pretty one?” The man who was reprimanding you only few moments ago upon not answering him, had a smile on his face this time: not assuring or comforting, but malicious and sinister to its very core. “I could smell your untainted scent from my room, before even descending the stairs.”

“Your e-eyes..” You gaped again as colours morphed in his eyes, red now swirling around in the pools of darkness, his words lost on you as you felt your fear rising due to the inhumane action.

“For an intellectual, bibliophilic girl, you sure are oblivious, sweetheart.” He scoffed, looking unimpressed at you, “Come on, prove to me you aren’t heedless like the rest, draw the conclusion." His eyes held yours, again altering into hues of different colours, seemingly mocking you now. 

You don’t know how the thought jumped into your head, maybe because the two holes on your neck stung suddenly or because the automatically opening doors entered your mind, the contemplation that his fangs appeared so realistic and authentic the more you stared at them paired with the blood on his collar, not just the fresh red stain of your plasma but also the burgundy stain present there, giving his lips the cherry red shade you admired hours ago on his arrival at the event.

“This is not a co-costume, no-” You inhaled a quick breath, “you are a vampire.” Your face paled in realisation while he smirked proudly, tapping your knee in a weird, twisted form of appreciation.

“Tremendous, my dear. But only half, you see. My mother was one, yes, but my father, he gave me an even better ability, he was an Incubus.” You shuddered as the words sunk in, your only worry being staying alive now, when your life was in the hands of this sex demon, having the greatest of powers and strength. Your mind did not spend any time mulling over the existence of supernatural beings, only dwelling on possible escapes now.

“That is why even your untouched body couldn’t help but react to my form and it is also the very reason, that I can read what goes on in your mind, all your memories, your hobbies, every book you’ve read, your precious sister, Emma isn’t it? So please, do not even think about fleeing if you don’t want your family to suffer.”

The threat loomed in the air, nasty sobs wracking your body as his thumb came to wipe the tears off. His hands started undoing the lace on the front of your bodice as you sniffled. Managing to quieten down just a bit, you begged, “Please don’t do this, I’ll have nowhere to go if my family found about me partaking in this unholy deed before marriage.” You had little hope about him seeing reason but there was optimism nonetheless. 

“Darling, do not fuss that I’ll leave you unhinged and deserted after finding pleasure in your body, you are to be mine now. Essentially, you already are.” His lips claimed yours again as the front of your dress slackened, bundling around your waist.

You pulled back, surprised at his promise, “You mean that?” He nodded, coming to kiss you again. You turned so that his lips met your neck, tongue licking the salt residue of tears there. “In what sense?”

“In every sense you could think of and more. I’ll give you everything, make you my queen, would you like that?” He mumbled in your neck, tongue now soothing the two punctured cavities residing there.

You could feel yourself crossing your legs involuntarily, trying to caress the abrupt yearning in your intimate part, your underclothes dousing with wetness somehow. Steve smirked in your neck, sitting upright and playing his trump card.

“I’ll marry you and we’ll rule together with the plenty of successors you’ll give me. Won’t that make your parents proud? Isn’t that what your parents taught you? Catch the King’s eye?” You meekly nodded, his charisma of an Incubus winning you over. “I’ll make your father The King’s Hand and send your mother the finest of jewels and gems, satins and silks.” He looked over at your submissive form, looking at him with the innocence of a toddler, swayed by his promises.

“I’ll let your sister have a grand wedding with the man she dears. All you have to do is surrender yourself to me and be my Queen, rule alongside me. So I ask, will you?” You cut him off, your lips pressing against his as you tried to mimic his earlier movements. He held your waist, surprised but pleasantly so, crushing the layers of the rolled top half of your dress underneath his hands. You had very little idea about what bedding someone meant but you had this primal urge to not have any skin of yours covered or untouched by him.

Steve shed his cape and threw every cloth on his torso away, almost as eager as you to get skin to skin contact. Your hands tangled in his hair as he lifted you up and sat you in his broad lap, not before sliding your dress all the way down. As he broke the kiss and took in your body, parts of you hidden under the smallclothes, he let out a growl that frightened yet excited you with another shiver down your spine. 

He made quick work of his bottoms, his cock standing and reaching his muscled chest almost and you gaped. Your sister, Emma had informed you of men’s parts being far much smaller than what you had just witnessed. His member stood erect and proud, glistening as he pumped it with his fist. His eyes drank in your surprise and trepidation, getting amused and turned on even more. 

You still laid stretched across the bed, legs straight ahead of you while your torso rested on your elbows, eyes wary of his every next movement.  He eyed your scantily clad body, gaze filled with lust and nothing more and climbed between your legs, one hand coming down on your waist while the other grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a possessive kiss, robbing you of your breath. Your mind was slowly registering the reality of it all, this was going to happen no matter what. You were going to sin by engaging in fornication. But is it really wrong if your benevolent king demands that of you?

His hand sliding from your face to your bosom distracted you from your chain of thoughts. He slid the cups of your garment revealing your nipples and took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his other pinched the abandoned one. You didn’t know if you should be more surprised at his actions or the rush of the feelings that ran through you.

He slowly released your nipple and trailed soft kisses down your stomach to your most intimate part yet, kissing it through the cloth there. His delicate touch was abruptly contrasted with him grabbing the fabric, tearing it into two and revealing you bare. 

You closed your legs out of instinct but his heavily muscled hand took them apart in a single push. He eyed you with a warning, to not obstruct him anyhow anymore.

“Let me taste that sweet nectar of yours, sweetheart. I really want to find out if it is as addictive as my senses picked it up, as sweet as the aura that surrounds you.”

And with that he dove into your pussy, his tongue roaming your wet cavern. Neither did you understand what he spoke of nor had you sister told you about the activity happening right now. But all you could do was focus on the astonishingly pleasant shivers running through you as you had an out of the body, more accurately an out of the world experience. You had no sense of the time that passed and how long you laid there clutching the silk sheets letting out mewls. But out of nowhere, something in you snapped and all your energy left you. 

As your blurry vision cleared and your eyes found his face, he licked his still glistening lips, his beard moist and wet but erotically so. He dove right into kiss again and you tasted your own sweet nectar for the first time ever. His hand roamed your body, grabbing your curves and caressing your soft flesh. 

One of his hands made its way down furthermore and spread your fluids along your folds, and then lined up himself along your hole. With a sudden push, you felt yourself being full like never before, and a sudden pain hit you as your face visibly flinched. Steve swallowed your grunts of pain with his kisses and started rubbing your bud above your linked bodies. 

The shudder that ran through you once again made you incapable of thinking, the ache slowly subsiding behind the pleasure you felt. When your moans filled the air, Steve kissed your collarbones and sucked leaving bruises there, and started thrusting again. As his movements became faster and consistent, and his callused hands rubbed you and pinched your intimate flesh, you ascended to another world. Each action of his introduced you to a new star in the wide galaxy. The same unknown descended upon you again as something snapped in your abdomen and you experienced pure bliss. 

“Going to make you the mother of my children, you will carry my seed and bring the Kingdom several heirs. This time I’ll succeed, you will be mine, my Queen in every sense.” His words made you clench around him and that was all it took for him to achieve ecstasy as well.

Your head lolled and your eyes met his sweating frame lying across the silk sheets as a sinister grin adorned his face again, “I need to fuck a successor into you tonight, you ready?”  

[yandere-wishes]

⭐Yandere Joestars⭐

(Parts 1-7 + Bonus Charcter: Joseph and Johnny’s characterizations are based off @dear-yandere​ ‘s interperations) I tried to write this mostly in the Joestars' POV. Their respective darlings resemble lifelike dolls rather than human beings to further illustrate how out of touch with reality the Jojos have become.

Warnings: Gore, kidnapping, dehumanization.

Edited: By the amazing Peri!! (@tealyjade-libran )

⭐Jonathan Joestar is possessive. ⭐

It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it...

It's an old saying, one that Jonathan remembers from an antique storybook his mother use to read him. It didn't mean anything back then, when he was still an infant too young and new, to fully comprehend what "owning" and "losing" was. But as the years ticked by faster than any clock could keep track of, things started to change. What had once been a passing quote in a chivalrous story about knights and dragons, soon turned into the epitome of Jonathan Joestar's life. 

Soon love wasn't about saving a princess or impressing the neighborhood girls with his boxing skills. No, all too soon love became about own and guarding. 

There may have been a time -long before "Jojo" and Dio met- when Jonathan was just like any other gentleman. Tender and sweet, flirtish at gatherings and charming in ladies' companies...but that was a Jonathan from a could-be-past that had been demolished the minute Dio Brando stepped foot onto the Joestar estate. From then on things depleted all so quickly. Everything Jonathan had come to unconsciously cherished had been so easily stripped from him by his beloved new "brother". 

Everything he loved had been killed, destroyed, or broken in some inhuman way. His friends had abandoned him, his lover had distorted him, his father didn't even notice him...

"It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it". The second time he hears that phrase, it freezes him to the pavement, his body star-struck like he just received a message from the heavens. Although it's rather peculiar, why "heaven" would convey a message to him in such an unholy place. 

With Dio having practically kicked Jonathan out of the mansion and countryside. Jojo had no other place to go but the back allies of London. Sure he still tried to be home for supper and bedtime and any other time his father may get an inkling of his absence. But when there was no need to 'appear' Jonathan took to the London streets away from Dio and his lackeys. 

In fate's bizarre game, it's in a backstreet that reeks of days old licker and rotting flesh of paupers that no one has bothered to bury. That Jojo hears that life-defining idiom once more. His dulling sapphire blue eyes follow the mist of those melodious words. Staring until they're practically itching to cut through his sockets and run after those little words. But they stop right before they can leave their eyelets, they stop and stare at the figure that strolls out of the shadows, in such a way, that would make Jojo's father slap him across the face for being "barbarous".  

It's luck or fate or maybe even destiny that leads the heir of the Joestar legacy to meet his darling in the slums of England. 

"How my heart resonates when I lay my weary eyes on your enchanting face..."

There's an odd sweetness about the naivety that surrounds his little friend. A sort of innocence that comes with not knowing about the hell that he's gone through. It's charming in a moderate way, his darling can't come to despise him if they haven't got a clue who he is. Keeping both his worlds as far apart as possible is really the only option left. Dio and his friends can't hurt his new friend? Lover? Companion? In actuality, Jonathan really doesn't know what you are to him. At first, you're merely a distraction from his crumbling, lonely shell of an existence. A sort of invisible pillar holding up London's bridge before it collapses into the  River Thames. Sure he views you as another person, unlike the other noblemen Jonathan has no desire to treat you as anything less than a respectable young lady despite your social statutes. 

 Dio can have the noblemen and ladies, he can have all of George's affection and favor, Heck Dio can have the whole goddamn world for all Jonathan cares. So long as he has his darling, his sunflower, his only means for living, then he will be content. 

Jojo lost everything he once loved, but he swears it to every star in the night sky that'll preserve his darling from the wickedness that runs this cruel world. He'll cherish her while she's still in his arms...

He'll protect her, just like the knights did in the old bedtime stories his mother would tell him. 

"...I swear on my honor as a Joestar that I shall never lose you to the likes of anyone, I'll be a true gentleman, a true knight and I'll protect you from any who wishes cause you harm."

⭐Joseph Joestar is Protective and all so patronizing.⭐

Why must Love hurt so much?

It's solitude, pure utter solitude that attracts Joseph to his darling. Oh sure, he must have known them from an earlier time in his life, back when the words Hammon and Ripple just sounded like fancy dessert names. Back when he was still a naive kid wishing on every goddamn star that he could just meet one of his parents for a fraction of a second. Back when life was easy when everything made sense. That's when he first met his darling. Although all so many years ago he probably just thought of them as the little sister he never got a chance of having. 

There's a numbness growing inside him now that his life has slipped off its axes, hurling into unknown darkness that plagues him in the form of Pillarmen and red gems. 

Everywhere he looks there's a reminder that nothing's going back to the way it used to be. No waking up to Granny Erina's voice calling him down for breakfast, no running around chasing Old Man Speedwagon. Everything is gone, replaced by Lisa Lisa's brutal training and Ceaser's endless taunting. 

Day by day nothing changes, but once he looks back every little thing is different. Ruptured and mangled into something unrecognizable. 

But then there's his darling. Someone -or rather something- that's still the same. Just like before. Her smile is still the same as ever, bright and cheery as she runs up to him wrapping her arms around his abdomen muttering about how much she missed her "Dear Big Brother".

(Y/N) is a comfort, a familiarity in a strange new world. She's something so frail and vulnerable, not to mention naive. Thrusted into a world where horror writers don't dare venture into. It's so likely that she'd be captured by one of Kar's zombie vampire things or -even worse- charmed by Caesar’s silver tongue. 

It's thoughts like these that haunt Joseph at night, keep him up and wandering into her room just to gaze at her sleeping form. He's lucid enough to know how it might look. Like he's the bad guy trying to take advantage of a defenseless little girl. But he can justify his actions, he's her big brother, he has to watch over especially when she's at her most vulnerable. If Ceaser ever tried anything or some vampire freak snatched her away in the dead of night, Joseph would never forgive himself!

But what does he get for all his efforts? What does he get for all his sleepless nights and hours upon hours of worrying? Just a small smile and a fleeting kiss on the cheek. No sincere, "Thank you big brother," or, "You're my hero Joseph!" Nothing, nothing worthwhile anyway. 

Now it's a competition, a battle to the death if it has to be -funny how he takes this more seriously than his match against Wamuu.- He's competitive by nature and he's willing to do anything to earn his darling's affection once more. He doesn't care who he has to beat within an inch of their life so long as he can have his darling back in his arms.

There is an aftermath to all of these, once all the fighting has ended and the battle's won. Once Joseph has finally claimed his prize. There's a certain way his darling has to act. She’s got to smile and play the role of the dotting little sister once more. Just so Joseph can justify his actions...

"And your next line is, 'I love you more than anything else big brother Joseph!'...at least I wish it was." 

⭐Jotaro Kujo is cold and sadistic.⭐

Never learned how to love...

A lover by Jotaro's book is nothing more than a walking, talking doll. Someone who cooks meals, irons clothes, and kisses him on the cheek before he leaves for the day. Sure they have other uses, in flares of passionate moments, they're something to hold onto, another pair of limbs to get tangled in. Something hot and solid, someone to push down, to weigh his force on. 

That's it, that's all there is to it...

A lover and a convenient toy are one of the same. 

He knows it's wrong to think about someone that way. To deprive a living thing of all their thoughts and feelings just so it's suitable for him. But at the end of the day who wants to hear idle chatter and gossip or go outside for walks in crowded areas. All too social, it's all so troublesome. All Jotaro wants is a closed-off life, away from the scums of the earth...away from people in general. 

It's such an inconvenience to seek out a lover, to hassle through dates and meetups in hopes of finding someone that clicks. Jojo would even go so far as to call it wishful thinking. So it has to be a pure accident that he even meets his darling. They're just someone who gets tangled in with the crusaders. A perfect living perception of 'wrong place, wrong time'. Someone who's life gets blown to bits and shambles just because fate decided to play a cruel joke on them. 

And that's what piqued Jotaro's interest. The desperate, depleted look of pain cemented over their face. The sparse dying gleam of determination that blazes within their eyes. Oh, what Jotaro wouldn't do to snuff that little ray of hope. To watch as what little purpose they have is ripped from their arms. What he wouldn't do to see them in pain...

Pain is submission, that's really all Jojo wants. A darling submits, not out of their own free will, but because every little thing they've ever loved has been slaughtered, all that they cherished has been stolen from them. 

But it's not enough 

It's never enough

Although Jotaro adores the looks of anguish that decorates his lover's face. There's something more satisfying about maltreating them. About leaving marks all over, about leaving bruises that never lose their violet glow. He's claiming his darling, physically and mentally. Not a single day goes that Jotaro doesn't remind his lover who they belong to. From verbal taunts that plague his darling's mind day and night, to punches that break bones leaving them paralyzed on the floor begging for help, to cuts that are just a little too deep to ever heal properly. 

Even when his darling is behaving, even when the poor little thing does everything her lover tells her to do, there's still going to be some sort of violence directed at her. Some backhanded remark about how useless they are just because they couldn't follow his mother's recipe. Some sort of blow just for greeting him 'too late'. Trivial things morph into punishments, just for Jotaro's sick amusement.

At his core, Jotaro is an unresponsive man, one with no regard for how others feel. He's distant, it's a trait he can't change. He likes how he does things, how there's no room for slip-ups when it's only him. Even his darling isn't someone he'd consider opening up to. Their opinion of him doesn't matter and their feelings are irrelevant. Most days he's gone until the last possible moment, leaving his darling an endless amount of time to mull over every word and scar. 

But here's the catch.

As the clock ticks by, as the nights and days begin to merge into an endless existence, as all hope burns in the pits of hell, darling's mind is also going to stray. Ever so slowly losing its perception of reality. 

'Maybe' spiders begin to spin webs of doubt through darling's empty cranium. The isolation begins to bite at her skin like the razor-sharp fangs of frostbite. They start to crave Jotaro's harsh touches, they start to miss the venom-like words. Every insult and slap to the face is welcomed, all the misplaced anger and death threats start to feel like sweet kisses and flowery touches. 

Poor darling no longer sees big scary Jotaro as a monster. They've lost the ability to see him for what he truly is.

And what happens when Jotaro does finally come home? Oh, how little (y/n) will ravish in the gut kicks and loathsome words. How she'll take every beating with a sweet sugar-coated smile.

Cause this is her life now. A meaningless existence that revolves around Jotaro and his bleak personality. A life that's only worth living when Jotaro is around.

Is it even a life?

"Yare yare daze you're such a hassle, be glad I keep you around...”

⭐Josuke is obsessive with delusional tendencies.⭐

Maybe I'm the one you'll fall in love with next...

Just like his "father" Joseph, Josuke is stuck in a perpetual state between diaphanous and phantasm.

There's something all too wrong with Morioh nowadays. The narrow streets and verbose buildings have started to feel like a transparent cage. The town has always been small, barely reaching a population of 3,000 despite all the new families that keep moving in.

Nevertheless, everything has dulled, faded, and withered into a monochrome collage. The layers of repetitiveness had finally begun to pick at Joskue's nerves...

And yet somehow, by some diabolical twist of fate. In the mists of the oceans of familiarity, Josuke’s eyes grab onto some shimmering pearl lounged into between the crowd of familiar faces. 

Sure he's seen this girl before, but he's never actually seen her. Never stopped to look at the odd way their eyes twinkle like newborn stars or how their skin shimmers with the glow of a thousand suns. 

One second is all it took, a fleeting compliment as you passed by Jojo in the peppermint flavored afternoon. Your hair flowing like a tapestry of the galaxy as you disappeared in the crowd of dead pulsars. Not a care in the world, not for him, not for anyone.  

Destiny was definitely up to its old cruel tricks again. 

He's not stalking. Josuke will swear on his grandfather's grave that he'd never "stalk" a harmless little girl, like some distorted maniac. He just happens to bump into you at the beauty parlor when he's picking up a new brand of hairspray. And it's totally an accident when he meets you out in the abandoned fields! Honest! It's not his fault fate wants the two of you to keep meeting, it's not his fault that you guys are meant to be!

It's not technically a friendship that you two start to build up, it's far from one. Friends don't dream about sugar-filled kisses behind school walls. Or about ice cream that tastes like scandalous touches and candy induced moans. No, Joskue isn't your friend, he NEVER wanted to be your friend. He knows that! He knows what he wants...but with each passing day, he's beginning to doubt that you know that. 

He'd never realized he's been so sensitive on you. So entranced by your out of tune voice that muttered rather than spoke. He's seldom been so eager to throw a punch and crack his knuckles on someone's skull, just for saying you looked "lovely today". 

Whenever his eyes don't land on you, a rage-filled volcano bubbles in the pit of his gut, uncontrollable anger that festers inside of him, like lava waiting to spill out and burn anyone that wanders too close. His palms itch with the need to hold you, to feel your soft skin rubbing against his. 

The jealousy is always there, pricking at his skin like rose thrones. Until they inevitably cut through his flesh and make him lose his composure. He's ready to kick and punch and hurt and kill anyone that comes too close to you, anyone that saunters off their orbit and makes a beeline for you, disturbing the balance of solitude that Josuke so eagerly sets you into.

Sometimes in the dead of night, when the world has finally dozed off, Joskue's mind begins to wonder. He thinks the way he feels about you is the same way an addict feels about his drugs. Maybe to him, you're even more addicting than heroin and ecstasy...and yet he can't quit you, he just doesn't want to quit you. Nothing in this world could compare to your sweet voice that tickles his ear when you lean in, to whisper a secret, or the may your full lips move when you throw another honey-filled insult at him. 

He prefers when you're alone when he's the only one you talk to. 

Sure there are exceptions like everything in life, although in the end  

there's a sort of backhanded irony.

It's those exceptions that are going to hurt him in the. 

Josuke trusts his friends, he knows that Okuyasu and Koichi would never do anything to hurt him...

But you're not on that list and to be fair you're surely the only one who can truly hurt him.

You fall for a friend of his. Not him, not the boy that's been driving himself insane just to earn a smile from you, not the boy that let you get away with insulting his hair and poking insults at his look, not him never him, it just can't be him.

"You're like an older brother to me"...Did you wash your mouth with acid before you spat those words at him? Did you intend to lace your words with knives and blades and rubbing alcohol before you stabbed him? It's figurative, sure. But it might as well be literal. No pain, no cut, no punch from any stand would ever hurt so much! You really don't know what you do to him, do you?

"I'm happy for you," it's a lie, blank and simple. Automatic words that he's practiced in the mirror a thousand and one times. He'd rather watch you suffocate on your own blood than in the arms of another man. He'd rather break every bone in your body than watch you kiss one of his friends. 

How on earth had he ever come to love you? Someone as cruel and cold. Were you even human? You resembled some ice stand more than a flesh and blood person. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM.

He really hadn't meant for it to become an addiction, he hadn't meant to get all so used to the crunch of bones beneath his foot, and the bloodied lips quivering, shuttering out apologizes for having the gall to utter your name in his presence. But there's only so much a teenage boy can take, only so much torture that he can bury inside with a moonlight smile. 

Addictions really do funny things to semi-sane people, huh?

It's a split-second decision, done in the heat of an all so regular moment. It's just a simple half-hearted punch when you beat him at another videogame. Then another

And another

And another

Then a crack, another and another, and before either of you knew it you're on the floor screaming out in pure agony. 

Josuke vows he's not being cruel when he breaks your bones so delicately. He can justify every crack, every fracture. Although it's rather repetitive and in certain cases borderline petty. 

Five broken bones on your left leg just for "kissing" your new boyfriend. Your right leg is bent at an angle you're sure it's not meant to be. All because you hugged said new lover before going to class. 

Josuke's once liquidy blue eyes that held the softness of clouds have been dulled over by a sort of thick mania. His once soft touch is nothing but nails digging into already bruised tissue. His lips wobbling as stray tears flow past his eyes. Muttering apologies and stuttering curses at both you and himself.

It's not really like his darling can leave after that incident. Josuke is known around town as the boy with a diamond heart. There's no way in hell anyone will believe what he did to you. It's just better, safer, to stick close to him, to swallow the indignities and paint a loving smile over your face when you gaze into his depraved eyes. 

It's better to pretend to love him, rather than have another limb broken...

"Come on (Y/N), it's just a little crack. If you promise to give me a tiny kiss I'll let Crazy Diamond fix you right up."

⭐Giorno Giovanna is sneaky and manipulative. ⭐

Sono pazzo di te. Sei la cosa più bella che mi sia mai capitata...

There's a sleekness to Giorno, a cunning that's hidden behind layers of charisma and charm mimicking that of his birth father's. It's so easy for him to fool his darling into believing that he's a charming prince from a storybook. He's the good guy trying all so damn hard to make his dream a reality. He's admirable, he's noble, he's Giorno Giovana, the golden boy.  

It's not like he ever intends to hurt his darling. He'd never dream of laying a hand on them, he's all too familiar with the wounds that come from endless beatings. The bruises and phantom pains, that get worse as the days slip by. He knows real pain, and unlike all so many others on both sides of his family, Giorno doesn't want his lover to experience an uncia of it. 

He'd never repeat what his stepfather and mother did to him. He's going to try and do everything he can to make sure that his darling is safe...

Because isn't that what's important? To make sure the one you love is safe. To make sure they don't get swept off their feet by some masquerading drunkard or taken advantage of by some fanciful sadist. 

Giorno will do anything to keep his darling safe, even if it means tampering with their mind a little. Nothing too serious, he'd never even considered changing anything about them. Although isolating them isn't completely off the table and a few verbal threats are fine from time to time. Just for precaution...

Giorno is a rather determined boy, he'll go to any lengths to isolate his lover. Scaring away friends by letting Gold Experience give them a small out of body experience. If they're persistent then he can't guarantee that that out-of-body experience will simply remain an experience much longer. It's not out of malice, but it's what must be done for the sake of his darling, the only other thing he cares about.

There's a shift, a difference between the young naive Giorno Giovanna, the golden boy with starry eyes, and the new boss of Passione, the Mafioso who holds the whole country in the palm of his hand. 

Oh sure, as a simple Soldato Giorno was dangerous in his own right. But Don Giorno? He's the sort of monster written about in the grimmest fairy tales. Wearing the appearance of a true king but underneath the luxury suits and priceless watches, he's just another greedy, fire-breathing dragon.

As the Don of Italy's most influential gang, Giorno's manipulation tactics have gotten rather ....hazardous. He doesn't have time to waste getting rid of every single person that poses a threat to his darling. If someone looks their way, he'll send some goons to take care of them. 

Although it's so much easier to keep his lover locked away, he even has the perfect excuse now. He's the head of the mafia, he has all so many enemies who jump at the opportunity to hurt him in some way. So he has to keep his defenseless little lover locked away in some mansion that's all so far away. 

He's also a bit more violent now. Giorno's more physical, ready to break a bone just for a wrong word or a cracked jaw from a punch for even asking to go outside. He blames it on the stress of running an organization...although it's more likely that all the power from passion has begun to rinse away Giorno's caring side. 

"Cuore mio, Resta con me per sempre"

⭐Jolyne Kujo is clingy and obsessive and delusional.⭐

I can't stay away from you...

Jolyne is a rather condescending yandere. Her rough ragged exterior does little to hide the clingy neediness that writhes inside her shattered heart.

She's soft, dependent, desperate at best. Wanting her darling to approve of every tiny trifling thing she does. Needing their words of praise and approving smiles to have the courage to live another day. 

At times it seems like the only thing keeping Jojo alive is the  "good girl!" and "I'm proud of you!" her darling throws her way. Chanting the words of praise with closed eyes and fluttering smiles of anxiety. 

It's difficult to make her sweetheart realize how virulent this relationship is, far too hard to call Jolyne a Yandere. The derogatory term applies to someone who ceases all control from their lover, who locks them in a basement, and throws away the key. It applies to murders and 

stalkers and lunatics that roam the streets in the dead of full moon nights. It applies to those who were thrown into Green Dolphin for a reason.

 Not to some girl whose life has been demolished over and over and over again. 

Not to the girl with a star birthmark that follows her darling around like a lost puppy in the freezing rain. 

But even Jolyn has her limits. She's been let down time and time again, abandoned and framed by those she thought she loved unconditionally. From friends to boyfriends to even her own father, everyone leaves, they take what they want, and then they leave. 

Flesh like strings, stitched into a web of antithesis and distraught moods, act as a  solid, interchangeable reminder of who really holds the power in this relationship. Of how Jolyne can go from needing her darling to controlling her darling in just a fraction of a heartbeat. She loves them, she swears she does...but they need to stay close to her, they need to only think about her. 

Her addiction gets worse as the days tick by. It's less romantic, less loving. Morphing into a dependency, a compulsion. Rotting thoughts of her darling suddenly leaving, plague her every waking moment. The once semi pleasant conversations between her lover and her friends, get cut off like a severed limb. 

Even Hermes and Foo Fighters aren't "good enough" to be around Jolyne’s lover. She's all so, scared they'll try to take them from her. Stealing the ONLY good thing in her life.

There's a certain degree of control that Jolyne's willing to give to her darling. A sort of freedom to make, revolting appalling choices, so long as they include her. A freedom to boss her around and make her submit. Her darling is free, so long as that freedom revolves around Jolyne.

"(Y/N)~ don't look at them! You should only focus on me! I'm supposed to be your world!"

⭐Johnny Joestar is sadistic and manipulative.⭐

Arrogance disguised as affection...

It's all degradation, all harsh words that sting worse than bullet wounds. Glares from dull wicked blue eyes that might as well kill, cause it's better than the alternative. Smirks that make being alive so damn distasteful. Kisses that engrave the lingering taste of rotting lead into your tongue.

Johnny isn't sweet, he doesn't smile at his little sweetheart. He doesn't pat their head and kiss their temples while uttering sweet nothings into their blushing ear. No, his lover doesn't deserve a honey-coated life. They don't deserve to have what was stolen from him by his so-called "loved ones". Instead, he uses them as a living dart board, for both his acid-laced words and bullet-like fingernails. 

There's no love when it comes to Jojo. He doesn't want to waste time on something so frivolous as a "significant other". But he does like having someone -or rather something- to play with, a form of entertainment that bends at his will. Not a pushover, not someone who's too proud either. But a living doll that can take a few verbal spats and survive an armada of fingernail bullets through the stomach. 

Oh, sure he wants to break them, having a toy that's so conflicted, that questions their own sanity is so much more fun. But it's the intervals that count. Johnny wants to be the one to break his darling. To engrave the helpless look of distress into his memory. He wants to preserve every scream, every tear. That's the whole purpose of even keeping a darling. 

Johnny rarely lets his darling out of his sight. It's so much easier to play with their mind if he's the only one they ever talk to. They'll become so easily dependent on him if he's their only companion. Although sometimes Gyro can get a little too touchy and friendly. And there will be occasions when Hot Pants start to pry into the darling and Jojo's personal life. But the incidents are few and far between. Not like Johnny minds, if anything these minor secondary "meetups" are useful to the paraplegic jockey. They refill his darling with the most precious thing..." Hope". Just so Johnny can beat it out of them all over again.  

There's a darkness that resides deep within Johnny. A toxicity that laces his actions. His life is miserable and he's damn well sure it'll always be that way.....

So why not take his lover down with him?

"Don't you love me darlin' ? Cause I certainly don't love ya."

⭐Jorge Joestar is delusional and obsessive.⭐

What if we lost our minds, together?

A love story better than his parents, that's all Jorge wants. Flower field dates, and quick lingering kisses before midnight. Something sweet, that doesn't have a macabre end. A romance without body-snatching vampires and zombies that shed their flesh. Something normal, gentle, lovable. 

Although with the family he's been born into and the kind of things that keep finding him. Jorge doubts he's ever going to get such a hopeful love life. He's all so desperate to carve a life for himself outside of his family's shadow, but in the end, it's simply eager wishing. 

He's not exactly sure what he's even looking for in a lover. Someone sweet but strong-willed, an average answer. Someone who bears a sort of resemblance to Lisa Lisa. Not physically but rather mentally, he's not a coward, he swears he's not, but he just wants someone who can protect him. A fair exchange in his eyes. His lover will guard him against the bullies and freaks of the island and in turn, he'll protect them from the grim ghouls that run amok through the world. Although when push comes to shove he isn't sure if he'll really be 'protecting' his lover or running away and hiding somewhere with them.

He just wants to fall in love and not go insane, a reasonable request, if he hadn't seen the worst that the world has to offer. It's just wishful thinking, sweet dreams for a boy designed to attract trouble. 

He doesn't want to have conversations with his dead lover's head. He doesn't want to wear their skin and waltz around town. He doesn't want any of that creepy, supernatural stuff that destroyed his parent's love. 

He just wants normal. But as the years slip by Jorge's grip on "normal" slowly begins to decay.

Normal is something, but what that something is has become a blur. Normal isn't vampires and zombies and ghost clowns that throw nooses around people's necks...Yet on the other hand maybe it is? 

He's so far gone that he can't even differentiate between methodical and irregular. His brain's capacity to understand the difference has gotten so altered and broken.

Once he finds his darling he does try to act like the ordinary people of the Canary Islands or England, depending on where he's residing at the time. He tries to follow the mode, just to impress his lover. It's a façade, a bloody masquerade that's bound to deteriorate once he and his lover have settled down.

Although a poetic, domestic life had always been Jorge's dream, he soon comes to learn that it just doesn't suit him. Jorge's paranoia starts to increase. It's comical at first, the way his eyes dart to closed doors, half expecting a killer to emerge. Although the same paranoid tendencies can become rather smothering at times. He's all so certain something is going to jump out of the shadows, some creature with sharp fangs and knife-like claws is going to rip his lover's body to rags. 

He's gotten rather umbrageous now that he's the one who's married and living in the Joestar estate. His tendency to run away from any form of conflict has morphed into a rogue-like sense, much similar to a rabid dog barking at anyone who gets too close to its territory. He keeps his darling locked away inside, triple-checking the locks to make sure no one or thing can get in. He avoids the probing disquieting neighbors who still speak ill of his widowed mother and murmurs about the "curses" bestowed on the Joestar bloodline. Sometimes even getting physical when the insults shift towards him and his new lover. 

Punches are thrown.

Insults exchanged.

And then the door and windows are locked once more.

Leaving both Jorge and his darling in the chilling company of the semi alive shadows.

It's safer in the basement. It has to be safer down there. After all his mother kept his father's severed head down there for decades before anyone found it. So it's only sensible that his lover will also be safe, tucked away in the darkness of a brick room some few meters under the earth. He's not acting like his mother -and deep down he prays that this isn't something his late father would ever even consider doing- It's a thin line of justification, but he can reason with himself so long as he knows it's not something his other family members have ever done. He does try to keep his darling comfortable down there. Buying them the most luxurious furniture and comfortable bedding. Constantly bringing them new forms of entertainment. 

Keeping them in this preserved state is what any reasonable person would do. Not just another insanity driven Joestar.

"It's for your own safety" he's repeated that phrase an umpteenth amount of times, although every time the sculpted words leave his tongue, Jorge becomes less sure of who he's really trying to convince. 

Jorge is all so sure that he's doing all of this for both his lover's safety and to erase whatever misfortune follows around the Joestars, like an airy plague. Even his enrolling for the great war is done with this mindset...

Even though in the end it's also this mindset that gets him killed. Leaving his darling a wide window to freedom. 

"Darling, what do you think when you look at me?"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

[aemcndtargaryen]

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP THIS IS EVERYTHING I COULD'VE EVER WISHED FOR IN A LANNISTER!READER FIC

I stayed up till 3am binging all the available chapters and I got so sad when there was no more😭 imagine my surprise and delight when I saw that update today😍

I literally love everything about this, like no joke it's not even finished yet but it's already got a spot on my ultimate faves list

such a great idea, but what's even better is that your execution of it is just chefs kiss so so gooooood

your writing is phenomenal, and the way you portray the characters and relationships? immaculate

and lannister!reader? the baddest bitch of all, I love her your honour🥺 tywin would be proud👏🏻

I love that she's so ambitious and calculating and knows how to play the game, but at the same time her feelings for aemond and helae are all there and genuine, it's a fine line and you walk it so beautifully💜

some of my fav bits off the top of my head after that binge:

- reader immediately going like 'I want him' at aemond even before they met

- alllllll reader x aemond interactions let's be real

- like their first meeting

- at the dragon pit, reader outsmarting the bullies and comforting aemond afterwards

- reader and helaes friendship, they are truly sisters in all but blood🤧 and I love how protective reader is of helae/all her loved ones

- the green boys, you write them and their relationship so well and it comes off so organic

- THE FACT YOU INCLUDED DAERON

- aegon always calling reader My shining Lady of Lannister

- both aegon and daeron being onto aemond's feelings for reader and never missing a chance to tease him about it

- just The Incident and everything that came after it

- reader sneaking into aemonds room, GIFTING HIM THE SAPPHIRE, TELLING HIM HELL BE REMEMBERED UNLIKE THOSE THAT DID THIS TO HIM AND HOW A LANNISTER ALWAYS PAYS THEIR DEBTS AND SHE'S GONNA BE THERE HELPING HIM GET WHAT HE'S OWED AND THE FORHEAD TOUCH

- when reader gets back to the keep after that 6 months absence and puts those ladies in their place like the bad bitch she is

- reader and aemond scheming together in the library, they aren't even together yet and they are already the Power Couple of KL

- the tourney? HOLDING HANDS🥺🤧 AND AEMOND HOLDING ONTO HER HAND UNTIL THE VERY LAST MOMENT BEFORE HE'S FORCED TO LET GO AND EVERYONE SEEING

- and then turning that death stare on victor and VHAGAR ROARING IN THE DISTANCE

- AND READERS SMILE AT THAT

- none of the Greens clapping when Victor crowns reader

- loved the tyland/jason/reader interaction afterwards, big fan of tyland and readers rs in general too and also how secure reader is in the knowledge that despite his faults her dad does love his kids and would stand up and protect them *unlike other people we know😒*

- reader lowkey gushing to tyland and jason about aemond in the carriage when they question whether he'd actually act on his anger, she's so smitten I love it🥺

- reader thinking she hopes viserys will cough up a lung😂 it's what he deserves 💅

- reader and alicents talk in ch8

- and like EVERYTHING THAT CAME AFTER READER WENT TO FIND AEMOND AT THE TRAINING YARD

- THE HAND HOLDING, THE FAVOR, THE SAPPHIRE, THE KISS, THE FORHEAD TOUCH LIKE THAT NIGHT

- THE HE TORE UP THAT SCAR AND FILLED IT WITH YOU!!!!!! 😭🤧💜

- ser cristons chaperoning, someone give him a raise lol

- the, that was you as a boy, you're a man now, I only pity however will have to face you tmr

anyway that was probably very incoherent of me rn, and I'm definitely missing some other fav bits, but like, you get the idea I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS

lannister!reader and aemond are trulyyy made for each other🥺😭🤧💜

PS. not sure if you're doing tag lists, but if you are sign me the fuck up plsssss I need to know when a new chapter drops asap🥺 in any case I'll be checking for any sort of update daily (more like several times a day lol)

jaimeslanisters' masterlist

the pawn in every lover's game (lannister!reader x aemond targaryen)

When you’re ten, your father sends you to King's Landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. A lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.

parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight

ao3 link

[byronictrash]

some stuff that would be different  in my version of hbo supernatural (season 3)

season 1  season 2

THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN

sam searches about the faustian pact both in goethe’s and thomas mann’s faust

“who the hell are you?” “i’m the girl who just saved your ass” “well, me too”

THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT

“why are you following me?” “i’m interested in you” “why?” “because youre tall and tall women are sexy as fuck” sam’s brain was short circuited for a sec because her height usually makes her dysphoric

ben is dean’s son idc!!! i’ll elaborate on that more on the s5 post

BAD DAY IN BLACK ROCK

“thats my division championship soccer trophy, can’t believe dad kept this” “yeah probably the closest you ever came to being a boy… shit, was it too much?” “yep” “oh fuck sammy i’m so sorry you know i didn’t mean it, it really wasn’t my intention to-” “dean i know i’m just fucking with you lol” 

SIN CITY

richie's meeting the winchesters would yield the terrible dialogue “this is my sister uhn… cheryl. well, you know, stepsister” “sure, this is my sister sam” “oh sure she is!”

also samruby weirdass flirting (“if you don’t want my help, fine! give me the gun and i’ll pass it on to someone who will use it” “maybe i’ll just use it on you” “oooh that would be so fucking hot.”)

A VERY SUPERNATURAL CHRISTMAS

the trans panic moment! (“barbie sapphire?" “dad probably thinks you’re a girl” “whywouldhethinkthat???” “dude relax, i’m just kidding” “oh… right…”)

also their christmas on present day!!! (“woo-hoo, a very huge bottle of ranch dressing and a concealer that’s about three shades lighter than my skin” “like it? “love it”)

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

jeremy had full access of sam’s head while she was asleep (which explains his curious choice of all the ways to immobilize sam he chose precisely crucify her)

that being said, he starts to throw all of sam’s paranoia on her face (“you’re calling me a psycho? c’mon samantha, even though your visions have stopped, both you and i know how unclean you are. headaches after praying, nose bleeding when talking in latin, what’s your next step? burn in holy ground? it’s only a matter of time for your brother find out the freak you are”)

MYSTERY SPOT

 don’t get me wrong, i love asia - heat of the moment but considering that this is a sam’s episode, would make much more sense if the song playing in the radio in the morning were a song that sam liked, which, of course, after the thousands of tuesdays, she started to hate

and the song in question is scissor sisters - i can’t decide because yes, my hbo sam loves scissor sisters

*the first notes of the song playing* “oh fuck off sammy, did you change the radio station last night?" "no i didn't" "so why the hell is it playing your gay music?"

gabriel did it but anyway

*in unison* “sam winchester makes up like a toddler, sam winchester drools while she sleeps, sam winchester doesn’t know how to do a proper braid, sam winchester cries during the sexOKAY ENOUGH”

*nirvana - dumb starts playing on wednesday* “sammy did you change the radio station again?” “OH GOD IT’S NOT PLAYING SCISSOR SISTERS” “at least that, nirvana can be emo but scissors scissors looks like a cat swallowed a banjo”

IN MY TIME OF DYING

some sibling hostility!! (“silk used to be the suture of choice back in early 19th century but it was problematic, patients would get massive infections, death rate was insane” “uhum” “doctors had to do whatever they could to keep infections from spreading, one way was maggots” “sam, i’m eating” “it actually worked because maggots eat bad tissue and leave good tissue” “again, i’m still eating” “get this, when they found our guy, his body cavity was stuffed full of maggots” “SAMANTHA, I’M SERIOUS!”)

And more!! (“alright, where’s he doing the deed?” “benton likes dense forest with access to a river or some kind of fresh water” “why?” “because that’s where he likes to dump the bile and intestines, and the fecal matter” “stop smiling” “what? lost your appetite yet?” “nope and i gonna piss your backpack later”

NO REST FOR THE WICKED

when sam summons ruby, her nose doesn't bleed, unlike practically every time she does an exorcism

“i can’t save your brother but you can” “what?” “sam, you’ve got some god-given talent. well, not god-given but you understand” “the psychic crap? its gone since the yellow eyes died” “not gone, dormant. and not just the visions either” “what do you mean?” “c’mon, you know you’re different and you always thought you were wrong because of it but you’re not, you just have to embrace it.”

[fedonciadale]

How much information did Sansa have to gather to deduce that Joffrey and Cersei are not to be trusted after her pet was killed and her betrothed maimed an innocent kid ?

Hi there!

I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and treat this as a genuine question.

The thing that you have to understand is that Sansa is traumatized by the Trident incident. In AGOT Sansa I she has absolutely no reason to mistrust the Queen or Joffrey. Joffrey is polite to her and she enjoys the time with him, until everything goes awry when they chance upon Arya and Mycah (ill luck indeed). From Joffrey’s and Sansa’s perspective it is not clear that Arya and Mycah are playing! Joffrey “valiantly’ steps in to save his betrothed’s sister which is completely in tune with the “bragging mood” he was in the whole day. For him it looks like a peasant dares to strike a lady. He could not know that the education in Winterfell was that different to King’s Landing.

And the result of the whole mess is that Sansa’s direwolf is killed. And an innocent child is killed (not maimed - who is maimed?).

Joffrey did not kill Mycah, that was the Hound.

So, now Sansa is in a difficult situation: She still likes Joffrey and thinks it is not his fault. In a way she still has to like him, because the betrothal is not called off. And we see in Sansa’s next chapter that there is actually a time where she mistrusts the Queen, but not Joffrey. She is anxious about him but he is the perfect gentleman again, calling her Sweet Lady, complimenting her.

Of course she’s glad that she is her gallant prince again. She has to marry him!

  Sansa and Septa Mordane were given places of high honor, to the left of the raised dais where the king himself sat beside his queen. When Prince Joffrey seated himself to her right, she felt her throat tighten. He had not spoken a word to her since the awful thing had happened, and she had not dared to speak to him. At first she thought she hated him for what they'd done to Lady, but after Sansa had wept her eyes dry, she told herself that it had not been Joffrey's doing, not truly. The queen had done it; she was the one to hate, her and Arya. Nothing bad would have happened except for Arya.                 

She could not hate Joffrey tonight. He was too beautiful to hate. He wore a deep blue doublet studded with a double row of golden lion's heads, and around his brow a slim coronet made of gold and sapphires. His hair was as bright as the metal. Sansa looked at him and trembled, afraid that he might ignore her or, worse, turn hateful again and send her weeping from the table.

Instead Joffrey smiled and kissed her hand, handsome and gallant as any prince in the songs, and said, "Ser Loras has a keen eye for beauty, sweet lady."

"He was too kind," she demurred, trying to remain modest and calm, though her heart was singing. "Ser Loras is a true knight. Do you think he will win tomorrow, my lord?"

And then we see happen what Sansa feared, but not to Sansa. It happens to Cersei:

King Robert had grown louder with each course. From time to time Sansa could hear him laughing or roaring a command over the music and the clangor of plates and cutlery, but they were too far away for her to make out his words.          Now everybody heard him. "No," he thundered in a voice that drowned out all other speech. Sansa was shocked to see the king on his feet, red of face, reeling. He had a goblet of wine in one hand, and he was drunk as a man could be. "You do not tell me what to do, woman," he screamed at Queen Cersei. "I am king here, do you understand? I rule here, and if I say that I will fight tomorrow, I will fight!"                 

Everyone was staring. Sansa saw Ser Barristan, and the king's brother Renly, and the short man who had talked to her so oddly and touched her hair, but no one made a move to interfere. The queen's face was a mask, so bloodless that it might have been sculpted from snow. She rose from the table, gathered her skirts around her, and stormed off in silence, servants trailing behind.

Cersei does not run weeping, but she is humiliated by Robert here and this is exactly what Sansa feared might happen to her. Only it didn’t. So, from her PoV it is quite obvious who is the bad guy: Not her prince who decided to be all gallant again, but the king. The very king who ordered her direwolf killed on a whim as a retribution for things that Lady did not do, but Nymeria. Maybe you can understand why Sansa suddenly has some sympathy for the Queen? And anyway it is not as if she really trusts the Queen. It is rather that she trusts Joffrey and that she trusts the Queen more than she does trust the King.

"It was for love," Sansa said in a rush. "Father wouldn't even give me leave to say farewell." She was the good girl, the obedient girl, but she had felt as wicked as Arya that morning, sneaking away from Septa Mordane, defying her lord father. She had never done anything so willful before, and she would never have done it then if she hadn't loved Joffrey as much as she did. "He was going to take me back to Winterfell and marry me to some hedge knight, even though it was Joff I wanted. I told him, but he wouldn't listen." The king had been her last hope. The king could command Father to let her stay in King's Landing and marry Prince Joffrey, Sansa knew he could, but the king had always frightened her. He was loud and rough-voiced and drunk as often as not, and he would probably have just sent her back to Lord Eddard, if they even let her see him. So she went to the queen instead, and poured out her heart, and Cersei had listened and thanked her sweetly … only then Ser Arys had escorted her to the high room in Maegor's Holdfast and posted guards, and a few hours later, the fighting had begun outside. "Please," she finished, "you have to let me marry Joffrey, I'll be ever so good a wife to him, you'll see. I'll be a queen just like you, I promise."     (AGOT, Sansa IV)

So, it’s not exactly about Sansa trusting the Queen above everyone else, or even about Joffrey, it is about who she can trust. Does she trust her father, who killed her wolf? The father who did not dissolve the engagement, who did not confide his doubts in her? The father who did what the King ordered, when he killed her wolf? The King whom she has seen drunk more often than not, disregarding his wife? Humiliating his wife? The septa who can be bribed with alcohol? The sister she is at odds with? Who was not punished? Who got her dancing lessons?

People always think that the PoV characters should know everything that happens in the chapters of other PoV. That is not how the PoV structure works. Sansa did not have a confident talk with her father. Sansa did not see the dead Mycah. Sansa had not been privy to Ned’s secret talk with Cersei. She knew nothing. What she knew was that Joffrey had become the gallant prince again. When Ned is captured, Sansa expects Joffrey to listen to her plea for mercy because this is what gallant princes do.

We also tend to forget that Arya’s dislike might have opened her eyes in regard to the Lannister, but Arya’s PoV is biased as well. She is biased against her own sister, overlooking her sister covering for her. Her dislike and her jealousy for Sansa distorts her view as well. It is cleverly done really: Dislike, hate, love and sympathy can close and open our eyes. Bias is two fold.

So, no Sansa, could not have realized how Joffrey and Cersei really were until the moment Joffrey ordered her father’s head. And after that she never trusts them again, even though she has no one else who she can trust.

Thanks for the ask!