#dear theodora

[runnning-outof-time]

Oh my goodness this comment has made my whole week month, I think!! 🥹🥹🥹 it makes me so happy to hear that you’ve been enjoying my writing, especially this mini series because it holds such a dear place in my heart!

And I definitely agree with you - I don’t think things would have escalated as quickly, or at least not as violently, as they did if Tommy had something like this to come home …. He would have had those other reasons to better himself and make a life for and that ambition could have been placed into his work. At the very least, he’d know that he had people waiting for him at home and I think he’d think about that as he went to do what he did.

Thank you so much for your kind words on this fic and for reblogging several of my other fics - I deeply appreciate it!! 🥰❤️

Dear Theodora | Tommy Shelby x Reader

PART 3 of the Girl Dad Series…read more HERE.

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: In which Tommy tries to find the right words to say about the birth of his first daughter.

Warnings: mentions of war

Word Count: 3211

A/N: I am absolutely in love with this family I’ve created in this series. Girl dad Tommy had my entire heart. Also it’s fitting that I’m posting this on Letter Writing Day. This is based off of the song Dear Theodosia from Hamilton. I’ll include the link below Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Mail's here, boys," a soldier, who everyone called Jones, announced as he walked into the part of the trench that the rest of his company was occupying. Incoherent noises were made in response as Jones began passing the letters out to their rightful receivers. "Ah, Shelby, you've got one today," he commented, a grin forming on his face as he handed an envelope to Tommy.

"Thanks," Tommy mumbled as he flipped the envelope in his hands so that he could see who'd written to him.

"Read it out loud, Tom!" another soldier in the company, Matthews, called out before Tommy could open it. Tommy stopped what he was doing to look at the other man, his brows furrowed slightly.

"Yeah, Shelby, let us hear what's going on!" Jones chimed in before the other soldiers started shouting out their agreeances.

"Ok, ok," he conceded, waving their incessant pestering off as he finally got to open the envelope. It was commonplace for the soldiers to read their letters out loud when they were sitting around. It provided some sort of escape from the hell they were currently going through. He cleared his throat as he unfolded the paper. His eyes danced across the page quickly before he started from the beginning:

Dear Tommy,

I hope that my letter makes it to you in good time, and that you are able to read it in good spirits. Being able to spend some time with you those few weeks ago really helped push the ache in my heart away. It reminded me that the love we share is still very much real and has not been tested during this time we've spent apart.

I am writing to you mainly because I have just received some news that I felt you'd also like to know. I'm pregnant, Tommy...

"Oh shit," Jones called out, his eyes widening as a smile broke onto his face. "Congrats, Shelby!" he cheered then, standing from his spot so that he could go clap his comrade on the back. "You're gonna be a father, mate," he said once he stepped away.

There were some other surprised reactions from the rest of the company, and slowly but surely, they all made their way over to him to offer their congratulations'. Tommy was only half in his mind to thank them. The other half of him was reeling...surprised by the information that (Y/N) had just hit him with. He wished that he could have been by her side the moment she found out. He wished that he wasn't currently in another country, fighting a war. He wished that there was a guarantee that he'd make it home to her.

It wasn't until later on in the evening that Tommy was able to read the rest of the letter that (Y/N) had sent him. He slouched down against the wall of the trench and dug the letter out of the inside pocket of his uniform's jacket. After looking both ways and making sure he was alone, he opened the letter and continued to read it:

I'm pregnant, Tommy. I'm sure this comes as a surprise to you as it did to me, and I'm sorry for adding this onto your already long list of worries. I want you to know that I'm keeping the baby. There is a reason that this has happened to me; to us. I can only hope that you feel the same way.

Sending all of my love until I can see you again,

(Y/N)

Tommy knew instantly that he felt the same way as (Y/N) did. There was a reason why this had happened to them; why they were going to bring a baby...a little version of them, into the world. He also knew what he had to do now. He was going to propose to (Y/N) the second that he saw her again. This decision wasn't brought upon by this news, but rather it was solidified by it. He knew now that (Y/N) was the woman that he wanted to be with for the rest of his life.

He folded the letter and stuffed it back into his inner pocket before he began digging around in his haversack so that he could find the paper that he'd put in there earlier. When he reached it, he pulled it out, thankful that the pen was still clipped on it. He then brought his knees up so that he could rest the paper against them and begin writing his response to (Y/N).

"Shelby! Mail from the post!" a soldier named Trevor called as he dropped an envelope down onto Tommy's lap. Tommy nodded in thanks before he flipped the envelope around and began to tear it open. He'd been moved into a different company over the few months that had passed and, thankfully, this group didn't care much about hearing details of their company-mates' private lives. So he stayed in his spot and unfolded the letter, rather happy that he could read it to himself. His heart fluttered the second he saw her familiar handwriting.

Dear Tommy,

I figured I'd write to you because I've just received some exciting news. First, I want to apologize for these letters being so few and far between each other. Things have been mad over here and I have been stretching out my time between helping your family with the shop and volunteering at the orphanage - it is so sad to see the number of children there increasing each day, and if there is one thing I can vow, it is that I will never allow that to happen to our child.

Your Aunt Polly truly has a gift...she was able to tell me that we are having a baby girl. This was not confirmed by medical means, and I don't know if it even could be, but I have a strong feeling in my heart that Polly is correct. It feels like we're going to have a daughter. My mum has told me that there have been so many similarities that she's seen in me from when she was pregnant with me. It only makes sense, right? Oh, and by the way...she's finally come around to the idea. She's thrilled now.

I wanted to include some names in the letter that you might like. I think I've settled on one, but I wanted you to know the options.

First, I've thought about Philippa Grace. Philippa means 'lover of horses' and felt that it was fitting for you. Another is Daisy Mae, which would obviously be after the flower that you gave me on one of our first dates. Finally, and I think that this one might be it, is Theodora Rose. My mum's told me that Theodora means 'gift of God', and I really feel like she's a gift to the both of us. Rose would be for my mother, who's been helping me with all of these changes while you're away. It feels right for her, Tommy, and I hope that you'll agree.

Sending all of my love until I can see you again,

(Y/N)

P.S. I wear your ring every day. When I look down at it, I get excited, knowing that I am going to spend forever with you.

Tommy couldn't help but smile as he finished reading the letter. He knew that there would be no changing her mind now that it was made up, but he truly didn't need to. Theodora Rose did feel right. She was his gift, his motivation to get to the other side of this war and make it back home so that he could be with his family again.

He also couldn't help but chuckle at her postnote. He wasn't able to wait until he saw her again to propose. Instead, he asked her in his letter responding to her initial announcement, and he'd enclosed his gold ring as a symbol of his seriousness about it. He had to admit that it still felt rather weird not having it on his pinky, but at the same time he knew that it now had a better home.

Tommy wasn't able to write a letter back that night. Lights out was called early because they were getting ready to go on a march the next day. He laid his head down against his haversack and shut his eyes, his mind swimming with all of the information he'd just received.

Tommy made his way onto one of the final trains that were loading up from the station's platform. Armistice had finally been reached, and the war was declared as finished. He was about to embark on the trip back to Birmingham.

He took one of the empty seats by the window and sat his belongings on his lap. Having a seat to himself was a hope, but it was one that surely wasn't going to be fulfilled.

No less than a minute later, a man sat down next to him. They both nodded at each other, a silent greeting before going about what they were doing. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy saw the man pull a notepad out of his haversack. He then flipped to the next available page before he began writing. Seeing this made Tommy think of something he could do to pass time on the trip.

"Mind if I use a piece of your paper?" he asked the man, making him stop writing and look up.

"No," he shook his head before he flipped a few pages to get to the back of the book. He then ripped the last page out. "Here," he said, handing it over to Tommy.

"Thanks," Tommy responded, accepting the paper before he fished a pen out of his uniform's pocket. One of the necessities of rising the ranks to Sergeant Major was having a pen on you at all times. You never knew what it'd be needed for. "Kept yourself a journal?" he asked then, watching as the man flipped back to the page he was previously working on. So far he'd written the date on the header line, one sign that he would be detailing the events of his day.

"Yeah," the man nodded, looking to Tommy once more, "although I'd rather forget the things I've seen," he added in a solemn tone before dropping his head down once more.

Tommy silently agreed before he focused his attention back on the blank piece of paper in front of him. He uncapped the pen and adjusted his belongings so that they'd create a table for him to write on. Before he began, he looked out at the passing scenery, knowing that within a matter of time it would begin to look like the dust-filled streets of Birmingham. Home.

He then looked back at the paper, racking his brain as he tried to think of what to write. His daughter entered his mind then. She'd been born a month ago, and Tommy swore that he could rouse tears to his eyes just by thinking of the letter that (Y/N) sent to him announcing her birth. His girls were the only things that made him feel that his heart was still beating. And in just a short time, he'd be home with them again.

Dear Theodora,

What to say to you?

I wasn't there when you came into the world, and it broke my heart, but I'm finally coming home now. I cannot wait to see you and your mother. You both are the sole reason I continued to fight for this day to come.

I never thought that I'd have a daughter, that I'd have someone who is a part of me. Domestic life was never my style until your mother came into my life. Now I'll be dedicating every single day I spend alive to you. I will bleed and fight for you. I will make things right for you. I will lay a foundation for you and build something that will be worthy for you.

My father wasn't around, but I swear that I will be around for you. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you and your mother safe, even if that means making a million mistakes. Pride is not the word I'm looking for when I think of you. There is so much more inside me now. I fought for this day to come. I fought to see you and your mother again, and now that this day is upon us, I cannot wait to see you.

I will give the world to you, Theodora. I promise you that. And I know that you'll blow us all away.

Tommy looked over the letter one last time before capping his pen. He then folded the paper and tucked it into the inner pocket of his uniform's jacket that held all of the other letters that (Y/N) had sent him about their daughter. He couldn't wait to see his family again; to meet his daughter for the very first time. He couldn't wait to be home.

"Last stop! All off!" the conductor called as the train came to a stop next to the platform. The sun was starting to fade, but Tommy was still able to see the sea of people waiting for their loved one's arrival. He stood along with the other soldiers in his train car and exited the row that he was sitting in. The man who'd taken the seat next to him had gotten off at an earlier stop, so he was able to leave fairly quickly without getting clogged up with the rest of the men.

He tapped the part of his jacket where the letters were stored, making sure that they were still present, before he began walking slowly out of the train car. He kept rehearsing what he'd say to (Y/N), feeling confident with his formal proposal.

What he wasn't prepared for was his mind going blank the second he stepped onto the train's platform. His eyes widened in worry, but before he could panic, they fell onto (Y/N). Somehow, amidst the sea of people, she managed to be just a few steps away from him. He desperately hoped that his words would return to him as he watched her run to where he was standing.

"Welcome home," she said with tears in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck the second she was able to. She choked back her tears as she hugged him tightly, reveling in the feeling of being in his arms again. "I missed you, Tommy," she said once they pulled away. Tommy felt a pang in his heart at the sight of the tears in her eyes.

He knew what he had to do. A smile played on his lips as he took hold of her hands and dropped down to one knee. (Y/N)'s smile widened as she realized what he was doing, and she waited on baited breath for what he would say. But he didn't say anything. No words good enough could come to Tommy's mind as he stared up at her. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, making like he was about to say something only to abandon it completely.

(Y/N) didn't need to hear him say anything though. She knew what he was doing. Hell, she was already promised to him...the gold ring, that he stole from a merchant in town when he was younger, still sat proudly on her finger, symbolizing to the world that she was taken. So she spared him of his inability to speak and answered anyway. "Yes," she told him, nodding her head then.

Tommy felt terrible. He'd fucked up his proposal to her after making her wait months for it. He couldn't help but laugh though as he stood from the ground and scooped her up into his arms, making her laugh as he held her tightly against him. "Thank you," he breathed before kissing her passionately. (Y/N) smiled against his lips, relishing in the feeling of them against hers again.

"You already asked me to marry you, remember?" she asked him once they pulled away and she was standing again. "And I already said yes," she added before raising her left hand to show the ring she proudly wore. Tommy couldn't help but chuckle at her statement.

"I'll get you a better one soon, I promise," he told her before he took hold of her cheeks and kissed her again.

"Would you like to meet your daughter, Tommy?" she asked him then, her eyes shining as she pulled back to look at him. He felt a lump form in his throat at the mention of Theodora, and his speech was taken from him again. All he was able to do was nod as he pushed back the tears that were threatening to form. "Come with me," (Y/N) told him, taking hold of his hand so that she could lead him over to where her mother was standing, holding the baby in her arms. "Meet Theodora Rose Shelby," she introduced the two as her mother gently handed the baby to her. She then moved closer to Tommy, who looked absolutely amazed.

"She's beautiful, (Y/N)," he breathed as he reached out to gently run his thumb down the baby's cheek.

"She has your eyes," (Y/N) stated, a smile on her face as she watched Tommy interact with their daughter, "and she's been blessed with your head of hair too...mum told me that I was bald when I came out," she added with a little giggle.

"She was," Rose, (Y/N)'s mother, chimed in, making the three of them laugh.

"Would you like to hold her, Tommy?" (Y/N) asked, looking over at him with a smile on her face.

"Can I?" Tommy asked, wanting to kick himself for how naive he must've sounded.

"Of course," (Y/N) laughed softly at his question, "she's your daughter," she added before she carefully handed the baby over to him. He took her into his arms, cradling her gently as he marveled at how little she was.

"Hello, Theodora," he greeted her in a soft voice, running his thumb across her cheek again. He couldn't believe how much like both he and (Y/N) she looked. She was the perfect mix. "I'll make things right for you, my love," he promised her, smiling when she reached her little hand out towards his fingers and let out a coo that sounded like music to his ears. He glanced over at (Y/N) then, his smile widening when he saw that she was wiping the tears away from her cheeks and watching on with a wide smile of her own.

This moment alone made the years of hell that he'd just endured worth it. He was finally home with his family, and he was going to do everything and anything in his power to make something that he'd be proud enough of to hand down to Theodora. Everything that he did from that moment on would be for her and for (Y/N).

Tagged: @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08

MASTERLIST

Listen to the song Dear Theodosia:

HERE.

[ask-elland-n-will]

*a small little grey owl with white flecks in her wings arrives with a small silver paper wrapped parcel. She lands, allowing Elland to retrieve the parcel and the parchment before flying off back to her owner. Inside the parcel is the tinkling of a dozen vials of freshly brewed wiggenweld, each sealed with green wax with a heart imprint over the corks. The parchment has no signature but is that’s of a young witches swirly scrawl*

Hello Elland, I hope this owl finds you well. And I do hope you won’t send William to identify my owl as I am a Slytherin student but wish to remain secret for now. Despite being cunning and ambitious I do have a shy streak and can’t find it in myself to tell you in person that I admire you. I’ve tried to flirt here and there but maybe I’m too subtle. Hufflepuffs specifically seem to have flirting go right over their adorable heads.

But I digress. While I’m still too shy to outright tell you in person I will continue to drop my subtle hints in hopes you’ll catch on. In the mean time I do enjoy getting to know you and practicing dueling with you when we get the chance and hope you enjoy my small gift.

My dear secret Slytherin,

I can assure you I will not Go telling Will to get you caught. Your adoration flatters me Though I don't know who you might be.

I'm told I cannot separate If asked to dinner or a date From simple walk and friendly chat. It's something I'll get better at!

If you're a friend, then please fret not. I'm sure I'll come across your yacht. Do not be shy but take your time: Confessing is a stressful climb.

I wish not push, I wish not hurt. Please, understand, I'm not a flirt: I say things straight, my word is clear, Just like the things I like to hear.

With little hearts on corks engraved, I'll keep the potions stashed and saved. I thank you dearly even if My heart has sailed the other skiff.

— Elland de Strontium ��

[brokenbecquerel]

Not here to moralfag you or anything but I'm obsessed with the way you think

you know what i'll take it

[pupsmailbox]

DOLL︰PUPPET ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ abbie. adelaide. adorablesse. adorablette. aerlyn. alena. alexis. alice. amaia. amaya. andrea. angeline. ankou. annabelle. annie. antoinette. anxiette. anxious. apricot. asaka. ash. asha. aspen. atticus. ava. avel. babette. babydoll. bambi. bambina. bambino. bashfelle. bashful. beau. bellamy. belle. bells. bernadette. blu. blue. bluesse. bluette. blushe. blushesse. blushette. boo. bram. bronach. bronagh. brone. button. buttons. cadel. candace. carmilla. carrie. catherine. cessair. charlie. charlott. charlotte. chelsea. chia. chica. chirella. chirelle. chiwa. chuckie. claeg. coffin. colere. commedia. constance. coquette. cordelia. corelle. corette. corsette. cypress. dahlia. dalia. damon. darling. dawn. dearesse. dearest. dearette. dearie. deidre. demure. desdemona. devin. devon. doilie. doily. doll. dollaintye. dollawie. dollerie. dollesse. dollette. dolleyed. dollie. dolline. dollita. dolly. dolores. dottie. drea. dread. drusilla. dáinn. eeria. eldritche. elissar. eliza. elle. elodie. eloise. emerence. emily. essie. esther. evangela. evangeline. evelyn. eveyln. faith. frill. frillette. genevieve. genoveva. gia. gladys. glorie. glory. gorey. gorie. gracelyn. gregory. gretta. gwen. gwenivive. haldor. haunt. hiccup. hyde. iraia. iresse. irette. itishree. jabez. janelle. janet. jannet. jinx. josie. julie. juniper. juno. kailey. kanani. kewpie. kiva. krak. lace. lacesse. lacette. lacey. lacie. lain. laintess. lakka. lalki. lavender. lea. lefu. letta. letum. libitina. lilac. lillith. lilly. lily. loaela. lola. lolah. loletta. lolita. lolite. lolla. lottie. lovelace. luci. lucius. lulu. lute. lyla. lys. madison. mahina. mandy. mannie. manon. many. mara. maria. marianette. marie. marion. marionette. marionne. marotte. marrionette. marrow. mary. maryjane. marzana. maveth. meek. melanie. melodie. melody. merripen. miel. minuette. mold. moldie. moldy. molly. moonie. moore. morana. morgana. morgue. mors. mort. mot. muriel. murmur. muse. nadine. nadzen. nancy. nanea. nanelle. nanette. nappi. naz. negan. nekane. nelly. nemesis. nettie. nicodème. niegan. nimbus. nina. nuri. olive. oliver. olivia. omega. panchaali. parner. pinkesse. pinkette. pinkie. pinky. pinocchio. pippin. poe. poppet. poppette. poppy. porce. porcelain. porcelynn. prantika. pulau. punthali. pupetta. puppet. puppetear. puppetesse. puppetette. puppette. puppyte. putala. quinn. ravanche. raven. realiteer. rebel. ribbon. ribbonne. riley. rion. robert. rose. rubella. ruby. sacrifette. salem. sasha. satin. scarlet. sebastian. sew. sewine. shivani. shiver. sidney. smierc. smiley. smilie. softesse. softette. softie. solikha. spirit. sprout. statuette. stitches. strings. sweeheart. sweetheart. sweetie. sweetiebelle. sweetine. sychar. teacup. tearie. teddy. tempest. thalia. than. thana. theodora. thorn. trembelle. trista. ultima. ulysses. vanessa. vera. viola. visage. whisp. whisper. willow. winston. wisp. wispera. wrathes. zizi.

PRONOUNS ⌇ adorable/adorable. ae/aer. angel/angel. anger/anger. antique/antique. app/apparition. bell/bell. berry/berry. berserk/berserk. bjd/bjd. bla/black. blank/blank. bliding/bliding. blue/blue. blush/blush. bug/bug. button/button. cake/cake. car/carcasse. cheer/cheer. cloth/cloth. coffin/coffin. control/control. coo/croon. cor/cor. cor/corrupt. core/core. corpse/corpse. coy/coy. crack/cracked. cracked/cracked. cre/creepy. creep/creepy. cu/curse. cu/cute. curse/curse. cute/cute. da/dark. de4/de4d. de/dear. de/demure. dea/dead. dead/dead. dead/death. dear/dear. death/death. decay/decay. delica/delicate. delicate/delicate. demon/demon. despair/despair. dirt/dirty. do/doll. doll/doll. doll/dolly. dolly/dolly. dread/dread. dress/dressup. dress/up. d♡ll/d♡ll. eer/eeerie. elegant/elegant. en/energy. end/end. evil/evil. eye/eye. fabric/fabric. fae/fae. fi/figure. fig/figure. figurine/figurine. flower/flower. fragile/fragile. frail/frail. friendly/friendly. frill/frill. fury/fury. gho/ghost. glass/glass. glo/gloomy. gore/gore. grave/grave. grief/grief. grim/grimm. grime/grime. gru/grudge. ha/haunt. happy/happy. haun/haunt. hx/hxm. h♡/h♡m. it/it. joint/joint. joint/jointed. joy/joy. ke/ker. kew/kewpie. kill/kill. kor/kor. kor/korrupt. la/lace. lace/lace. lae/lace. lo/love. lo/loved. lolita/lolita. love/love. mad/mad. mae/mae. mari/marionette. marionette/marionette. me/meek. mi/mier. mim/mimic. model/model. morbid/morbid. mu/mutter. mur/murmur. nap/nap. null/null. ny/nym. patch/patch. phan/phantom. pink/pink. pitter/patter. plastic/plastic. play/play. play/playtime. play/time. plush/plush. plush/plushie. por/porcelain. porce/porcelain. porcel/porcelain. porcela/porcelain. porcelain/porcelain. pose/pose. pose/posed. possess/possessed. pup/puppet. puppet/puppet. rea/reality. rest/rest. reven/revenge. rib/ribbon. ribbon/ribbon. rot/rot. scare/scare. scary/scary. seem/seem. sew/sew. sew/sewn. shi/shift. shi/shiver. shx/hxr. sh♡/h♡r. sie/sier. silk/silk. slee/sleep. sleep/sleep. smile/smile. snap/snapped. sneak/sneak. soft/soft. sou/soul. spi/spider. spi/spirit. spo/spook. spook/spook. sta/stalk. sta/stare. statue/statue. sti/string. stitch/stitch. string/string. sweet/heart. sweet/sweet. sweet/sweetdolls sweetie/sweetie. ta/tap. te/teer. tea/teatime. teeth/teeth. thre/thread. thread/thread. thxy/thxm. th♡y/th♡m. ti/timid. to/toy. toy/toy. toy/toytime. trick/trick. un/canny. unca/uncanny. ve/ver. vey/vem. vi/vr. vintage/vintage. vomit/vomit. wan/wander. watch/watch. whi/whisper. white/white. wilt/wilt. wood/wood. wrath/wrath. yarn/yarn. zzz/zzz. ♡/♡. ⚰️ . 🍨 . 🛌 . 🛏️ . 🥀 . 🧸 .

[speaksleazy]

┣[ "|"|"|" ]═─ SHY DOLL NPUTS ﹙for @thehauntedcemetery ﹚— predominantly feminine, some masculine

◜NAMES◞ — doll﹙dolly，dollie，babydoll﹚，doily﹙doilie﹚， demure， muse，adelaide，theodora，murmur，porcelynn，sweetiebelle，nina，nicodème¹，hyde，genevieve，genoveva，bambi﹙bambina²，bambino²﹚，melody ﹙melodie﹚，bernadette，alena³，visage，meek，anxious ﹙anxiesse﹚，sweetheart，lilac，lavender，bashful ﹙bashfelle﹚，wisp ﹙whisp，whisper﹚，teddy，kewpie⁴，esther⁵，rose，lovelace，marionette，puppet ﹙puppette﹚，poppet ﹙poppette﹚，lolita，nelly，lyla，teacup，coquette，essie，corsette，shiver，trembelle，drusilla，josie，hiccup，sidney

¹ French, pronounced 'nico-dem'. ² Italian. ³ Slovak. ⁴ A kind of doll. ⁵ Hebrew.

◜PRONOUNS◞ — she shy， de dear，lae lace，coo croon，mur murmur，mu mutter，ti timid，porce porcelain，pose posed，toy toytime，play playtime，tea teatime，me meek，joint jointed，de demure，whi whisper，dress dressup，coy coys，coquette coquetteish，shi shiver，pitter patter，kew kewpie

◜USERS◞ — demure-demeanor，bashfulnessa，teatime-with-﹙name﹚，shyaway-plaything，coytoy ﹙coyboytoy﹚，no-ones-toy ﹙no-girls-toy，no-boys-toy，no-beings-toy﹚，shyd-ll，inthecorner-ontheshelf，cutiekewpie，porcelainxious ﹙porcelainxiety﹚，shudder-mutter，coquettemarionette，meekionette，scaredy-puppet，eep-upette，demuremurmur，demurmur，b-shful

◜TITLES◞ — ＿＿ who hides ＿ face in ＿ hands ﹙＿＿ who's face is hidden in ＿ hands﹚，＿＿ with a muttered ﹙stuttered，murmured，whispered，hushed﹚voice，＿＿ posed on the shelf，＿ shy demeanor，the quiet one，＿＿ with porcelain skin，＿＿ with glassy eyes，＿＿ cowering on the shelf，＿＿ who's heart goes pitter-patter，your most demure plaything，the meekest doll ﹙puppet，marionette，plush，toy﹚

PT: (Syringe emoticon) Shy doll names, pronouns, usernames, and titles (for @/thehauntedcemetery). Predominantly feminine, some masculine.

Names: Doll/Dolly/Dollie/Babydoll, Doily/Doilie, Demure, Muse, Adelaide, Theodora, Murmur, Porcelynn, Sweetiebelle, Nina, Nicodème (French, pronounced 'Nico-deme), Hyde, Genevieve, Genoveva, Bambi/Bambina/Bambino (Italian), Melody/Melodie, Bernadette, Alena, Visage, Meek, Anxious/Anxiesse, Sweetheart, Lilac, Lavender, Bashful/Bashfelle, Wisp/Whisp/Whisper, Teddy, Kewpie (A kind of doll), Esther (Hebrew), Rose, Lovelace, Marionette, Puppet/Puppette, Poppet/Poppette, Lolita, Nelly, Lyla, Teacup, Coquette, Essie, Corsette, Shiver, Trembelle, Drusilla, Josie, Hiccup, Sidney

Pronouns: She/shy, De/dear, Lae/lace, Coo/croon, Mur/murmur, Mu/mutter, Ti/timid, Porce/porcelain, Pose/posed, Toy/toytime, Play/playtime, Tea/teatime, Me/meek, Joint/jointed, De/demure, Whi/whisper, Dress/dressup, Coy/coys, Coquette/coquetteish, Shi/shiver, Pitter/patter, Kew/kewpie

Usernames: demure-demeanor, bashfulnessa, teatime-with-(name), shyaway-plaything, coytoy/coyboytoy, no-ones-toy/no-girls-toy/no-boys-toy/no-beings-toy, shyd-ll, inthecorner-ontheshelf, cutiekewpie, porcelainxious/porcelainxiety, shudder-mutter, coquettemarionette, meekionette, scaredy-puppet, eep-upette, demuremurmur, demuremur, b-shful

Titles: (Pronoun) who hides (pronoun) face in (pronoun) hands/(Pronoun) who's face is hidden in (pronoun) hands, (Pronoun) with a muttered/stuttered/murmured/whispered/hushed voice, (Pronoun) posed on the shelf, (Pronoun) shy demeanor, The quiet one, (Pronoun) with porcelain skin, (Pronoun) with glassy eyes, (Pronoun) cowering on the shelf, (Pronoun) who's heart goes pitter-patter, Your most demure plaything, The meekest doll/puppet/marionette/plush/toy. End PT.

[mamimi-07]

Theodora, The Nocturnal.

“For you to walk into the land of the Sacred Haligtree to enter this hidden realm graced by Dear Mother St. Trina and Cursed father Miquella the Kind.

You have asked nothing more then A nightmare fort trespassing on sacred ground, You will face not a single world of Dreams...What I will bring you Is Horror.”

“So Says I, Theodora, of the Nocturnal."

Born from the haligtree seedling that escaped after miquella was removed, His blood affected a seedling thanks to St.Trina influence.

This seedling gave form from being nurtured out of such divine blood, Slowly Forming around the root of the haligtree as it grew in size.

Once the seed had fully developed into a minor haligtree, it revealed a change in shade. Releasing a woman born with that dream-like appearance with divine form in her presence. This woman was a response to St.Trina heart after miquella went on to fulfill his plan.

The woman looked upon the tree as She questioned her existence but soon was flooded with flashes that caused her to fall into a slumber. in her rest she was approached in her dream, being that of St.Trina giving her final message:

“Become that which is our Dream my little flower. Bloom into that which many seek to bestow onto thee, be our true self in form and shape…Theodora”

This awaken the girl now knowing her name and purpose, understanding who she was, as the child of The two kindest gods who sought not but to bring peace, Theodora seeks to bring such a world into fruition for her mother St. Trina and give those who are not forgiven a true world they can dream in forevermore.

Character art and design : Mamimi-07

Accent Coloring and corrections: Boogibun

[romanovsonelastdance]

The daughters of Andrew of Greece & Alice of Battenberg.

Sophie (born 1914) was known as "Tiny" as the youngest of the family, until little brother Philip came along in 1921. Cecilie (1911), or Kaikilia in Greek, was usually known by the French variant "Cécile". Theodora (1906) was known as "Dolla" as her older sister Margarita used to call her "dear Dolla" because she couldn't say 'Theodora.' Margarita (1905) was nicknamed 'Zighoi' according to the book Princess Olga of Yugoslavia: Her Life and Times by Robert Prentice.

[romance-club-daily]

Improvements in My Profile and more~

Dear friends, we have great news! Along with the release of the new update, new features and achievements will be added to the Romance Club app. Every time you will replay an episode you played before, you will receive +5 diamonds, and the chance to watch an advert for +3 more diamonds! 

Changes to the “My Profile” section:

1) You will be able to make your profile private so that it won't be visible to other players. 2) You will be able to report profiles if they feature offensive content. All reports will be checked, and those profiles that violate our guidelines will be suspended. 3) You will be able to hide characters from the Top Matches sections. 4) When the relationship level with any of your Top Matches changes, an up or down arrow will be shown next to their icon. 5) The hearts next to the Top Matches icons will be two different colors. Pink means that you have a romantic relationship with that character. Purple means that you are improving your relationship with that character, but you have not yet started romancing them or you are building relationships also with other characters. 6) You will be able to save cutscenes in all stories.

New achievements will be available for the following stories:

Sails in the Fog

Wave Patrol

Heaven's Secret

Legend of the Willow

Dracula: A Love Story

On Thin Ice

Theodora

The One, Volume 1

The Desert Rose

Heaven's Secret 2

Elite TAG

Song of the Crimson Nile

W: Time Catcher

Kali: Flame of Samsara

Garden of Eden

Soulless

The One, Volume 2

With love, Your Romance Club

[yukiblob]

Name: Dahlia Foudre

Height: 5’10

Birthday: December 27

Age :40

Magic: Lightning magic

Occupation: Retired magic knight

Birth place: Clover kingdom, Noble Realm

Background:

Dahlia was born to a prestigious royal family who was best known to become strong magic knights. This of course was no exception for Dahlia. Being trained throughout her childhood she strove to become a strong knight just like those before her. While working up the ranks she met a handsome young man named Ciel. She later got married and had a child at age 23. Tragically her husband died before her son was born due to an illness. Still while taking care of baby Levi she continued to be in the magic knights. Unfortunately while on a mission gone wrong she got struck brutally resulting in her retiring early. She continues to live peacefully (though sometimes in pain) raising her son to be a respectable young man.

Relationships:

Family:

Ciel Foudre

Her dear late husband… He was a romantic man who loved her with all his heart. She enjoys remembering all the fun times they had in their short time together. Sometimes his memory brings tears to her eyes. She sometimes wishes for him to see how Levi has grown. She will always tell Levi information about him telling him,”He always loved you even though he never met you.”

Levi Foudre

Her baby boy! Her first and only child. He will forever be her little baby no matter how old he is. She enjoyed raising him even though it was rough at first due to her injury. He’s always been easy to take care of and never really got in trouble. She will forever love Levi and cherish every moment she has with him.💜

Friends:

Gilbert Albain (not my oc belongs to Whackdreamer)

They’ve kept meeting due to those “cool, fun, royal parties”. She at that time was a widely respected member of the magic knights and he approached her because of it. She knows him because of his great inventions and his family’s history with the kingdom. Eventually both families become connected and even set up playdates with Levi and Oscar. Gilbert was also kind enough to get her the best medical treatment for her when she got injured. She’s forever grateful to him.

Margaret Drye/sister Margaret (belongs to hybridanafrost)

Childhood friends! They were always super close even training together sometimes. Margaret even pranked Dahlia a few times getting rid of her salt 😞. Margaret was also a big helper when Dahlia got injured. She babysat Levi a couple of times to help get rid of stress. Dahlia sometimes visits margs church and even donates toys and resources! It seems both will be friends till the end!

Theodora

She met Theo when she discovered her kingdom on accident. Dahlia was looking for a dungeon and while doing so she sensed some strange energy. While going towards it she came across a beautiful view of this secret kingdom. While taking notes on it she was swiftly attacked by Theo. Dahlia managed to talk her down (while fighting back). Theo got curious about Dahlia since she was able to hold on her own against her.(for context Theodora is the strongest in her kingdom) After that they’ve kept in contact ever since! Theo was there for Dahlia during her late stages of pregnancy since her husband had died. She even babysat Levi a lot(she enjoyed it but she wouldn’t tell anyone that). Due to matters in her own kingdom Theo and Dahlia haven’t been in contact much but they are still friends.

Others

Nozel Silva

Captain of the silver eagles. She met him because she attends Levi’s award ceremonies. They’ve talked over tea about how exceptional Levi’s performance is. They’ve also talked about her past with the Silver Eagles. They talk every time she visits!

Oscar albain(also belongs to whackdreamer)

He’s a sweet kid! She felt bad for him because Levi used to destroy his toys but she’s glad they’ve both became good friends.

Trivia

Probably Well known now but she used to be a magic knight. She was the vice captain of the silver eagles before she retired.

She used to ditch royal gatherings. She only attends for the King, the Albains and Levi.

She always gets marriage proposals

Despite visiting Theodora a lot she doesn’t rlly know who Vasilios is.

She can possibly beat Rill or Kaiser in a fight.

She definitely an adventurous type.

The Foudre’s live in a secluded mansion in the woods. It very spooky to look at.

If she was in the modern world she would most definitely dress as a romantic goth.

Totally did not fight against Nozel once

She also paints! She tried to teach Levi but he made a mess

[salisburyliam]

So, I'm a masochist and I'm replaying Theodora. Yeah. The thing is, after the end of the first season my heart is always in mourning for my dear, beloved Lawrence and I never pay attention/don't care about the LIs of the second I can't be the only one, right? But this time, I decided to give Antonio a chance and O M G

I love him.

He's just a gentle soul. He is warm, caring, understanding, attentive, wonderful. It's a shame he appears so little and we don't know what happens to him.

tbh I think that if he had been in another book he would have been a LI that people (including myself) would have loved a lot more.

Also, he's a DILF.

[runnning-outof-time]

Girl Dad | Tommy Shelby x Reader (Mini-Series) — Masterlist

Overall Summary: Tommy Shelby's destined to be a girl dad, and he's completely fine with it.

Stories below are of the same family - they can be read in order or by themselves.

**mini-series is on-going…more stories will be added as they’re posted.

Full Length:

PART 1 -> Girl Dad: Tommy Shelby’s destined to be a girl dad, and he’s completely fine with it.

PART 2 -> How To Talk To Girls: Tommy has to learn how to talk to the girls in his life.

PART 3 -> Dear Theodora: In which Tommy tries to find the right words to say about the birth of his first daughter.

PART 4 -> Juniper’s Story: How the littlest of the Shelby girls got her name, and how she made her entrance into the world.

PART 5 -> Tommy & His Girls: When things get rough, Tommy can most certainly count on the girls in his life to lighten things up.

PART 6 -> Surely the First of Many: Tommy finds Thea crying over a breakup in his office. He isn’t sure of how to console her. Thankfully (Y/N) comes in to help, and she tells him the secret behind it later in the evening.

Blurbs:

Something You Should Never Say: (Y/N) walks in on an argument between her daughters and immediately sees that Tommy needs some help moderating it.

Loud Sounds: Loud noises scare Tommy to the point where he feels like he’s in France again. Thankfully he’s got his daughter there to bring him back to the present again.

Just Some Puppy Love: Tommy’s unhappy about the fact that his eight year old daughter, Thea, has caught the interest of a boy in her class. (Y/N) tries to tell him that he’s overreacting.

The Joys of Being a Girl Dad: Tommy stops by Margate to congratulate an old associate…adversary…friend. (Tommy & Alfie - (Y/N) mentioned)

Asks & Extras:

The Shelby Girls’ Personalities: a little insight into Thea, Evie, and Juniper

The Games Tommy Plays with His Girls

Headcanon #1 - anon submitted

Headcanon #2 - anon submitted

Headcanon #3 - anon submitted

Headcanon #4 - anon submitted

Headcanon #5 - anon submitted

Headcanon #6 - anon submitted

dividers by @/firefly-graphics

[theodoradevlin]

Dear Theodora,

Today I write to thee not as myself but as a mere vessel, passing onto you the love and adoration of one Clawdia the Fearless Claw who has tragically passed away a year ago at the hands teeth of a certain student (s?).

And thus you are cordially invited as a ghost guest of honour to Clawdia's Deathday Party in the dungeons!

(Clawdia was very precise asking to add that you are free to wear whatever you wish but I believe she is yearning to see you in a dress as there surely will be music and dancing)

With much love,

*Instead of a signature, there is a small smudge of ectoplasm on the paper, undoubtedly the only way Clawdia could sign the letter.*

P. S. I, Richard, would suggest looking into some smell-muting charms to place on yourself for the evening as there will be ghost food present at the party.

Theo excitedly reads Richard's note, and admires Clawdia's beautiful ectoplasm signature. A very dignified scrawl, for a very dignified crab. She had been missing those ruby claws for various reasons, but hummed happily as she reflected.

One whole year of loves lost, and gained, sorrow and joy, butter and salt.

The appetite of her desire would always be hungry for Clawdia.....but never left unsatisfied. Why not make her dress of choice a little more tasty for her beloved crab? Nothing like matching a crab's birthday suit, after all.

[esta-elavaris]

Part Thirteen [4,751 words] ~ James Norrington/OC

An AU of my completed, 400k+ word fanfic Catch the Wind [AO3], in which Elizabeth, not James, is the one to discover Theodora Byrne after she crash-lands into the world of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Page breaks by cafekitsune.

Also now on AO3 and FF.net.

Masterpost - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - *Part Thirteen* [you're here!]

Tag list [let me know if you want to be added!]: @teawithshakespeare @missfronkensteen @dancerinthestorm

A/N: At this point, my approach to this fic is “what if POTC was an Austen novel?” and we just need to live with the consequences xoxo

“Is this not a bit much?” Theo asked doubtfully, scrutinising her reflection.

“My dearest darling Theodora, that is the point,” Elizabeth replied simply.

Both of them had already been dressed by the maids, and now they were resorting to a bit of primping as they waited for the appropriate time to head downstairs.

“I’m not opposed to a bit of glam, but this is…you’ve got me looking like Marie Antoinette.”

“Who?”

Whoops. At least making slips like that with Elizabeth wasn’t quite as disastrous as it might’ve been with anybody else.

“An extravagant French queen.”

“The goal was more fierce ancient warrior goddess attends a ball in her free time.”

“You need your head examined.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“I expect you’re rather more affectionate towards our dear captain, to have captivated him so.”

“Ugh.”

“Then again, perhaps it’s the muttered fieriness that has captured his heart so.”

“Ugh.”

“I heard that the first time.”

“And you’ll hear it again, at this rate.”

“Too right, save your charm for its most fervent applicant.”

Theo then unleashed a third, hearty ugh at her friend – but Elizabeth anticipated it and uttered a matching one in unison at the exact same time, and both of them dissolved into very immature laughter. It was much too difficult to get too annoyed at her friend. Mostly because she seemed to delight in it.

Their looks were not quite matching, but certainly themed alongside one another, and it had all started when Theo gave Elizabeth her gift.

Having never been one for big heartfelt emotional gestures, she felt like her insides were eating themselves as she sat with Elizabeth in the drawing room after dinner. It wasn’t like she never did anything nice for people, she wasn’t a feral animal, but…well. The Irish had a way of doing these things. Usually by offering forth whatever the warm gesture was, along with a (loving) insult and a refusal to make a big deal about it after the fact. That, she suspected, wasn’t the way of things here. And to be honest, she didn’t even consider that fact a bad thing – she certainly wouldn’t judge Elizabeth for being warm and sincere, but she just had little idea of how to respond to it. Maybe it wasn’t even just an Irish thing, maybe it was a product of being raised by a guy, amongst guys.

Combined with the time period disparity, she was left with hopelessly little idea of how to be a woman in the expected manner in these parts. Usually, Elizabeth found that equal parts amusing and charming, likely because Theo didn’t eschew traditionally “girly” stuff. She wasn’t about to stamp her feet at the sight of anything pink and frilly. But the fact remained, that she didn’t want this to be amusing or awkward, or whatever else it was she managed to be here. The last thing she wanted was to put a dampener on this.

So, resisting the strong urge to simply chuck necklace into Elizabeth’s lap and call it a day, she cleared her throat and straightened, taking a sip of her wine in an attempt to appear casual.

“So…I have a present for you,” she began.

Elizabeth’s dark eyes lit up with curiosity and excitement both, one eyebrow arching a little. That was fair. Not because Theo was the ungenerous sort, but because she didn’t exactly have a whole lot to be generous with around here, other than her time. And she had that in spades, which made it lose its lustre a bit.

“I know how much you like my necklace,” she said, reaching up to tug at it where it sat between her collarbones, “and I was half-tempted to just give you it, because it’s the only thing I really can offer, with the way things are right here. Y’know, other than my dazzling personality.”

Huffing a laugh at her remark, Elizabeth’s brow furrowed as she shook her head.

“Theo, I could never accept such a gift-”

“Which was why I didn’t try,” she nodded, “Bit of a crap gift if it just makes you feel bad. But…well. I worked my wiles, and I got a bit of advice, and then I found just the right craftsman for the job.”

Something glimmered in her eyes, and Theo knew then that she’d caught the hint of who exactly had been involved in the making of the necklace.

Presenting the pouch, she pinched the drawstrings between her thumb and forefinger, and then offered it to Elizabeth. Finally, she did a passable job at not appearing as awkward as she felt while she watched her open it, tipping the contents out into her palm. That awkwardness disappeared the moment Elizabeth grinned, and was forgotten entirely when she dragged her into a hug that was more tight than she would’ve thought the younger woman capable of.

If there’d been any small doubt in her mind that she was only pretending to like the necklace – which had been a real fear, given the many fine jewels that she had in her jewellery boxes upstairs – it would’ve been erased by Elizabeth’s sunny disposition in the following days. In fact, whenever they encountered others, servants or friends both, she began each conversation with ‘have you seen what Theodora has given me?’ while Theo flushed under the sheer weight of her enthusiasm.

Yes, she’d done well. She’d have to thank Norrington. Although she suspected he’d have the same dislike for accepting profuse thanks that she did, but that might double the fun. Still, Elizabeth had decided that the necklace should be the focal point of her get-up for the men’s going-away dinner, so no doubt he’d see that, and the hand he’d had in it, as thanks enough – at least once he saw her enthusiasm for it.

“I have to wear silver to accentuate my lovely new necklace, so it only makes sense that you wear gold.”

“My necklace also silver, so shouldn’t we both be wearing that colour?”

“Heavens, no. There’s a fine line that separates what we’re doing, and being a couple of strange old spinsters who wear identical garb and speak in tongues.”

“I already do the latter, depending on who you ask.”

“All the more reason not to partake in the former,” Elizabeth teased. “In any case, that is why you shall borrow one of my necklaces tonight.”

She might’ve disliked being dressed up like a doll, were Elizabeth’s tastes not so damn good. That was the thing with Elizabeth, she never tried to dress her up like her. Everything she flung at her managed to have Theo’s own feel to it, and the garments that did not were artfully styled so that they would once the look was complete. And how many modern women ever had a chance like this? It was like being on a period drama set, without the ordeal of having to learn lines. Fibs about her origins aside…and more concerns over potential lead poisoning. But Elizabeth wasn’t one for powdered faces, however much she was determined to induce a powdered wig fetish in Theo.

Her hair had been wrestled into a voluminous updo, with swooping curls defying gravity pinned up at the back, and one lone crimson ringlet left to fall at her collarbone, ending a good few inches above where the neckline of the gown began.

The necklines here took a bit of getting used to. The way the gowns shoved whatever a woman had in the chest department entirely up, and making even one like herself who was rather un-blessed in the chest suddenly appear busty. Sure, she hadn’t been averse to showing off her figure back home, but it turned out she’d thought the Georgians distinctly less free with that kind of thing than they actually were. For a time that she’d gone into thinking of as very buttoned up, she’d quickly realised how wrong she was when Elizabeth had giggled at her (albeit kindly) for asking if putting so much chest on display wasn’t a bit scandalous.  

It turned out she’d arrived a bit early, if she expected people to faint over the notion of a woman having breasts.

And anyway, the gown was gorgeous. Gleaming gold damask that caught the light of any and every candle in the room, making it appear almost liquid rather than just mere fabric. The sleeves ended with ruffles at her elbows, and there was a minimal amount of bows and frills and lace, so there was no worry that she’d feel like she’d be better suited atop a wedding cake than sitting having drinks with her new friends, and…uh…”friends”.

The sad fact of this impending departure that it was taking half of her allies with it, and Elizabeth had proven the only woman around here who was inclined to take a shine to her. Unless they could start dragging the maids along with them to afternoon tea.

Elizabeth’s gown was similar to hers, although not quite an exact replica. It had more of a floral motif, in shades of silver and dotted here and there with pearls. She looked like some sort of wintry queen when all was said and done – although the coldness of the look ended the moment she smiled. As breathtaking as she was, it was a wonder the other women didn’t hate her and not just Theodora. But in their minds, any positive attributes Elizabeth held were likely just expected. They were correct.

In truth, Theo didn’t envy her. When she met expectations, she’d receive little recognition for it. When Theo showed any fine qualities, it was a pleasant surprise to those inclined to like her, and infuriating for those who did not. The former was nice enough, the latter was funny.

Which made Amelia’s impression of a bulldog chewing a wasp while Elizabeth delighted over her gift during the gathering downright hysterical.

Theo couldn’t tell if the brunette knew she could hear her or not. She stood some ways away, speaking in a little circle with Norrington, Lieutenant Groves, and a handful of other ladies, while Theo mingled with those who had not chosen to snub her. That number was growing, she noted, but there was still something about their smiles that disconcerted her. A tenseness, and an analytical look hidden in their eyes, like they were turning over and over every word she spoke to find some hidden meaning.

She wished them luck with it – for while she had her secrets, there’d be no guessing them for any folk here. It was amidst one of Mrs Spencer’s speeches, during which she listed every fish known to man and whether she liked it or not, and which was the best cooking method if she did, that she caught wind of Amelia’s snide comments, floating airily across the room.

“I confess, she could personally hand me the Crown Jewels and it still would give me no notion of what she’s attempting to say when she speaks, more often than not. It seems a strange consolation prize for Miss Swann.”

Theo stifled an eyeroll, for fear that Mrs Spencer would think she was levelling it at her.

“I find Miss Byrne’s manner of speaking charming. It’s clever,” Groves said, visibly uncaring that Amelia very much did not want to hear that.

“In its own way, no doubt,” she replied boredly.

“No, in the true sense of the term.”

A break in Mrs Spencer’s list (during which she debated whether she preferred crab or lobster) allowed Theo to chime in. Mostly because she couldn’t help herself.

“I’m very beautiful, too – talk about that next,” Theo called over, leaving no doubt as to the fact that she’d heard every word.

Groves grinned and then laughed, “What was it you said the other day? About an old colleague of your father’s – a lanky fellow? Built like a…”

“Built like the side of a bank note.”

“Yes! That’s the one. I confess, I’ve been laughing at that ever since you said it.”

Beside him, Norrington’s lips thinned, and he gazed down into his wine glass as if in disapproval.

Was Groves being inappropriate, or did he just disagree with his opinion? Considering she couldn’t much imagine the former, that only left the latter. Didn’t it?

“Well, to your discerning ear, Lieutenant,” she offered a smile and raised her glass.

Groves mirrored the gesture, and even Mrs Spencer gave a trickling laugh and sipped from her own, but Amelia scoffed. And Norrington? Norrington took a long drink from his own glass that seemed to have little to do with the toast. All while not looking at her.

At some point as the night wore on, Theo excused herself to seek the night air. It was a cloudy night, which kept the stifling heat of the day trapped down upon them, and with all of the bodies and the revelry inside, it soon grew stifling. The saving grace – out here, at least – was that it had begun to drizzle. It was refreshing, even if it would work a few questionable waves into her carefully primped hair.

That didn’t bother her, though. Everybody here was even drunker than she was, and those who gave a toss about what her hair looked like were those who already searched for reasons to dislike her. They could crack on. Walking quietly over to a stone bench in the middle of the patio, she sank down upon it and breathed deeply. She’d need to sober up a little before going back in. All right, she wasn’t exactly shit-faced – there’d be no risk of her climbing up onto a table and belting out ABBA’s greatest hits – but she didn’t like to be much beyond mildly tipsy around this lot.

Most of this lot.

It wouldn’t do to grow too comfortable, but she was at least pleased to find that the list of those she didn’t feel like she had to be permanently on her complete and total guard around had grown more than she ever could’ve hoped. Elizabeth had been the first to occupy it. Then Governor Swann, even if she was never destined to be the best of friends with him. Then Groves, and now – most surprisingly, and in the biggest U-turn of all – Captain Norrington.

“I see we both had the same idea.”

Norrington’s voice was distinct and instantly recognisable from where it sounded behind her. Maybe she’s summoned him with her thoughts.

“Would I be imposing if I joined you?” he hedged.

“Not at all,” she offered a smile, “but I haven’t got any books on me for us to discuss, so we’ll need to find another way to play nice.”

He offered a low huff of a laugh. “I’m optimistic about our changes.”

To her relief, his earlier questionable mood seemed a thing of the past. As he spoke, she scooted along to the left side of the bench and he took a seat to her right, uncaring for the raindrops that had gathered atop it.

“Mm. We’re the capable sort, I think,” she replied. “Speaking of, I’d ask you if you’re prepared for tomorrow, but I’m worried you’d take it as an insult.”

“Once, from you, perhaps. But no longer.”

Was she mistaken, or was humour creeping into his tone? He continued before she could dwell on it – and this time, he was definitely teasing her.

“I am well prepared, or else I should not be here. Shall you miss me?” he asked drily.

“Mm. If, on a scale from one to ten, one is being delighted to see the back of you and hoping you never return-”

“I rather regret asking now.”

“Let me finish - and if ten is I won’t eat or sleep ‘til he’s back, I’d give you…a solid…seven.”

“Seven?” he seemed surprised.

“And a half. Maybe even an eight, in your warm and fuzzy moments.”

“I’m not sure I have any warm and fuzzy moments.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re not half as scary as you’d have people think.”

“Scary?” he echoed with a snort. “Did you find me so fearsome when we first met?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“No. Truly.”

When she realised how sincere his question was, she gave it the thought it deserved before answering.

“Okay, scary was the wrong word. Not just because I don’t frighten that easily.”

He chuckled quietly, “I can believe that.”

“But…intimidating, maybe that’s the word. That’s your job, though, isn’t it?”

“And we did not have the most harmonious of introductions.”

“Memorable, though.”

That earned her another laugh.

“Certainly memorable, yes,” he hesitated then for a moment and then finally asked. “I must ask – do I intimidate you now, still?”

“No,” she admitted. “If I’m being honest, and I’m only being honest because of the Governor’s very good, very strong, wine…I’ve never been so happy to be so wrong about a first impression.”

Before they could linger too long on something that was just a touch too close to sincerity – and before she could overthink the way his entire face seemed to soften in response to her words – she pressed on.

“What about you? Do you still think I’m the mad malevolent influence I appeared to be in the beginning?”

“Mad, perhaps,” he teased drily. “But not malevolent.”

“However…?” she sensed the continuation in his tone.

“However,” he conceded, “I do think there is much you are not telling me.”

“Well. Have to save something for my biography.”

He didn’t appear to find that as amusing as she’d hoped.

“Look…anything I’m not telling you…it can’t harm anybody here. Truly. If it would, I’d leave.”

“I believe that. Once I may not have, but I do now.”

“Good.”

“Could it harm you?”

Theo didn’t respond.

“Miss Byrne- Theodora. You can tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters a great deal!”

“I don’t understand how we got here,” she fretted with a tired laugh, “we were just joking on.”

“We were just about to discuss something frankly, for perhaps the first time.”

“For the first time? What are you talking about, we speak all the time. Are you…are you saying you think I’m usually lying?”

“No, I do not, but we have never gotten anywhere before now.”

The words hit some alarming note deep within her.

“Gotten anywhere? What do you mean gotten anywhere? I don’t…”

Theo trailed off. Because she’d been about to say that she didn’t understand, but as her mind worked through the fog of the alcohol, the heat, and the panic, she suddenly found herself understanding all too well.

Whether her dawning realisation showed on her face, or Norrington could simply guess the natural route her thoughts were taking, she didn’t know – but he quickly tried to intercede.

“Theodora, I did not mean-”

“Have you…” the prospect seemed too ridiculous to be true – to voice – and it had her feeling sick to her stomach, but it was all that made sense, and the panic in his widening eyes only seemed to confirm it.

Because James Norrington did not panic.

“Have you only been speaking to me to try to get somewhere?” she asked. “The books, the lunches, the long conversations…has it…has it all been to get me to lower my guard? Have you just been biding your time, the whole time, hoping I might slip up? And…and what? Admit that I’m secretly a pirate? That I’m here to rob everybody and run?”

“Of course not,” he insisted intently, eyes boring into hers as though force of eye contact alone could force her to believe him. “I said I believe you mean no harm, and I spoke truly. I have come to believe that.”

Theo did not respond. Because there was more he wasn’t saying.

“I…I merely hoped that if you came to trust me, that you might…be willing to reveal whatever it is you have not.”

She felt sick. Physically sick. Or like she’d been punched in the chest. Both at once, really. This whole time. This whole time. Every conversation, every book, every lunch, every joke, every smile…it had never been because he’d just wanted to spend time with her, or even wanted to make things right. He’d been playing the long game.

And sure, she hadn’t thought the sudden U-turn had been a miraculous change in his opinion of her. She thought it had started off as a desire to keep Elizabeth happy by being amicable with her friend, but…but that it had morphed into…

God, she was an idiot. Exactly what she thought it had morphed into, or was morphing into, hadn’t been clear to her until now, upon being shown how wrong she was. Christ, she’d watched three very long movies of the guy mooning over Elizabeth, and she’d really thought that a couple of jokes and a fucking sandwich from her would change that? Even a little bit?

How many of their conversations had he endured rather that enjoyed? Listening to her prattle on the same way she listened to Mrs Spencer, waiting either for her to slip up, or shut up, only presence out of duty? Out of protectiveness towards the Swanns?

How stupid could she get?

Several half-baked words of parting flitted through her mind. Some of them were even vaguely clever. But she had neither the heart nor voice to actually say any of them. So instead, she rose to her feet – though she could hardly feel them beneath her.

“Theodora,” he faltered and tried to reach for her hand, but she yanked it back and took her leave.

Amelia was at the piano when she moved inside. That was good. Not just because she was a fantastic player – which she was – but because Theo knew by now that the night would soon draw to a close. A few more would play, the drinks would be finished, and the guests would trickle out.

While there was nothing she wanted to do more than race upstairs, get into her nightgown and hide from the world beneath the covers, she refused to do that. Not just out of pride, but because she felt numb, bereft, and mortified, all in one. And that was paralysing.

The song drew to a close as she walked in and moved to stand at the side of the room, but Amelia’s dark eyes found her the moment she was finished playing.

“Miss Byrne! You next!”

Norrington returned to the room as she spoke, but Theo didn’t look at him.

“I can’t play,” she said.

“Oh, but you must be able to play something. Anything! We aren’t snobs here,” no, just vipers, “we’ll admire a good effort if nothing else.”

“I agree,” Norrington intoned.

If Amelia looked delighted at that, Theo felt the exact opposite – and she saw her own horror reflected in Elizabeth’s reaction, from where she sat by her father.

“I will take a tu-” the blonde’s attempt to rescue her was interceded by her father.

The Governor, deep in his cups by the flush on his face, chuckled and interrupted Elizabeth.

“Come now, Elizabeth, you’ve already played twice. Give Miss Byrne her chance to shine – I’m sure you know something worthwhile, my girl, and none of us here are renowned composers. It is for novelty only, I assure you! You are among friends.”

He wouldn’t have insisted, had Norrington not encouraged Amelia’s spite.

And she couldn’t refuse, could she? Not now that the man who was housing her had bid it. He’d meant no harm, he had no way of knowing about the wound he was in the process of packing salt into, but Theo felt her nausea increase tenfold.

The drizzle outside had set into her hair and set it askew, and what remained of the damp on her skin and dress both quickly warmed in the head of the room until she felt like she was stepping into a sauna. It was suffocating, and only added to her discomfort.

Walking numbly to the piano felt like being trapped in a nightmare – the sort where you turned up to an exam you hadn’t studied for. Naked. She knew some things. Mostly from pissing about on friends’ keyboards, or from music classes in high school – a decade ago. Nothing compared to what people here knew. And nothing well. Chopsticks, the first two seconds of Für Elise, and the song from the sodding Titanic movie.

The final option was the one she knew the most, but that only spoke for how little she knew the others.

Sitting down at the piano, she didn’t meet Elizabeth’s gaze – because she knew the sympathy she’d see there would crack whatever composure she’d plastered on as she left the gardens. It took a bit of plodding to find the first note she was looking for (the ones in her old music classroom had the keys labelled with stickers and/or sharpie, but there was no such help here), and even that drew a muffled snicker from somewhere behind her.

The rest was no better. Halting and awkward, as she hit wrong notes and either had to muddle through it, or pause and find the right key. At first, she thought nothing could be worse than the silence behind her – because she’d never heard such a large crowd be so, so silent. But then another snicker followed. As well as a few coughs, whether from second-hand embarrassment or as an attempt to disguise yet more laughter.

And she didn’t take herself seriously. Anybody who met her knew that. Back home, this wouldn’t be embarrassing at all. Among friends. How many times had she sat in a friend’s bedroom, a joint between her lips as she muddled through Paint It Black, laughing at her own mistakes and leaning into it before handing the instrument to someone who actually knew what they were doing? But she was not among friends here. The conversation she’d just had proved that to her.

It was all she could think of, and it had her wanting to crawl out of her skin.

She ended after the first verse, utterly unable to bear trying to go on (ironic, considering the song choice), and the Governor began to clap. To give him credit, he wasn’t even being an ass.

“A valiant effort, Miss Byrne! A valiant effort!”

A few murmurs joined in, Groves insisting he should go next – no doubt a kind-hearted attempt to make whatever she’d just tried to play look good in comparison. Theo brushed by him, and then took her leave of the room entirely. That meant going by Norrington, but the night couldn’t get any worse anyway. And if she didn’t leave soon, she’d cry in front of everybody. She refused to do that.

She made it as far as the stairs before he caught up to her.

“Theo- Miss Byrne, I did not mean to-”

Whirling, she found he did indeed look horrified. Apparently his victory had not tasted as sweet as he’d thought. Something about that only made it worse.

“Do you realise, Captain, that every time you’re kind to me, it only lasts so long as it takes my guard to drop, and then you’re cruel again? Then you embarrass me, again?” her voice came perilously close to breaking and she took a moment, inhaled deeply and fixed her eyes at some point above his head rather than at him. “So, at what point do I become the idiot for falling for it?”

“I did not-”

“Just leave me alone. That’s all I ask. Leave me be. You’ll be rid of me soon enough.”

She turned and began to ascend the stairs before he could reply, but he – thankfully – made no move to call after her.

James watched Theodora ascend the stairs in the Governor’s mansion feeling positively nauseous with regret. Not only at what had transpired in the gardens, but at how gloriously his half-baked in-the-moment plan had backfired thereafter.

She was out of sight by the time he was aware of Groves’ approach, his lieutenant moving silently to stand by him.

“May I ask you a question from one man to another, and not as a Lieutenant to his superior?” he asked quietly.

“Fine,” James replied flatly.

“…What was your thought process behind that? Back there in the sitting room?”

The question cut more deeply than any admonishment might’ve.  

[pupsmailbox]

ROYALTY︰FANCY ID PACK

NAMES︰ adalinda. adam. adela. adelaide. adelio. adrienne. agnes. aladdin. alaric. alasdair. albert. alexander. alexandra. alexandria. alice. allegra. alyssa. amadeo. amelia. anais. anastasia. andrew. angelica. anita. annabelle. anne. anneliese. anthony. antoinette. ara. arabella. archibald. archie. aricia. ariel. armel. artemis. astrid. athena. augustus. aurelia. aurora. aymeric. balder. baldr. baldur. bano. basil. beatrice. belle. benjamin. blanche. blanchesse. blanchette. bonnette. bonnie. bowesse. bowette. brendan. briar. brioc. camilla. carl. caroline. caspian. catharina. catherine. cecilia. celeste. chainesse. chainette. chainne. charles. charlotte. chelidonis. christian. claude. clemente. clementine. cleopatra. corsette. crosse. crossette. crownesse. crownette. cynfael. damita. damyanti. darius. delphine. deoch. diana. duke. duncan. eadlin. edward. eleanor. eleanora. eleanore. elisabeth. eliza. elizabeth. elsa. emmanuel. erendira. eric. esperanza. estelle. eugene. eugenie. evelyn. fang. fangesse. fangette. farsiris. felix. frederick. frederik. frille. frillesse. frillette. gabriel. gabriella. gabrielle. gearesse. gearette. george. gladys. gormlaith. grace. griffith. haakon. harry. hector. henrik. henry. ingrid. isabella. isadora. izella. james. jasmine. joachim. josephine. julia. julien. kiana. kingsley. lacesse. lacette. lacey. laurent. leonore. lilibet. louis. louise. lucas. lucienne. mabel. madeleine. mael. maelie. maelle. maelys. magnus. mailys. margaret. maria. marie. marina. martha. michael. montgomery. nicolas. nikolai. nina. noire. noiresse. noirette. orla. oscar. palesse. palette. pari. paris. pearlesse. pearlette. philip. primrose. prince. princer. princessa. princesse. princette. princey. princie. prinze. prinzess. prinzessa. prynce. pryncess. quille. reagan. regina. regulus. ribbonesse. ribbonette. ribbonne. richard. robin. rognvaldr. rosalina. rose. rosette. rufflesse. rufflette. sabrina. sadie. saina. sara. sarah. sarai. sebastian. sharai. sofia. sophie. soraya. steven. sverre. theodora. tzeitel. vampesse. vampette. vampie. victoria. victorianne. vincent. watchesse. watchette. william. yseult. zadie.

PRONOUNS︰ blu/blush. bonnet/bonnet. bow/bow. chain/chain. che/cher. corset/corset. count/count. cro/crown. cro/own. cross/crosses. crown/crown. crown/crowned. crowned/prince. crowned/princess. dear/dear. dress/dress. dress/dress.apple/apple. dress/dresse. elegant/elegant. eth/ethel. fluff/fluff. frill/frill. frill/frilly, frill/frilly. frilly/frilly. gear/gear. gem/gem. gold/gold. grace/grace. he/heir. he/heiress. he/hir. he/ir. heart/heart. heir/ess. heir/heir. heir/heiress. heiress/heiress. jewel/jewel. king/king. lace/lace. lo/love. lord/lord. lord/lordship. love/love. luv/luv. melody/melodie. mirror/mirror. mon/arch. night/night. no/nobili. no/noble. pale/pale. pearl/pearl. pillow/pillow. pink/pink. polish/polish. pretty/pretty. pri/ince. pri/prince. pri/princess. prin/cess. prince/prince. princess/princess. princess/princesse. princess/princesses. queen/queen. rib/ribbon. ribbon/ribbon. ro/rose. ro/royal. robe/robe. rose/rose. roy/royal. royal/royal. royal/royalty, royal/royalty. royalty/royaltie. royalty/royalty, royalty/royalty. ruffle/ruffle. shine/shine. shy/hyr. silk/silk. silver/silver. sleep/sleep. snore/snore. suit/suit. tea/tea. throne/throne. ti/ara. ti/tiara. tiara/tiara. victorian/victorian. watch/watche. yawn/yawn. zzz/zzz. ⚔. ⚜. 🏰. 👑. 💎.

[starogeorgina]

Children of the dragon

Warnings: Incest, sexual content, swearing, mentions of violence & SA, murder

Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen × Reader, Minor Aemond Targaryen × Reader

1.05

Your damp hair is sticking against your forehead as you moan against Aegon’s hand as he attempts to keep you quiet. You ignore the pain building in your lower back as you ride him; the pleasure always outweighs the pain. You bring your hand to your crotch, adding to the euphoria building inside you by rubbing circles onto your bundle of nerves.

“Aegon!” You moan, “Fuck, I’m going to—”

Frowning, he grabs you by the jaw, slipping two fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, saying, “I’ve already told you to be quiet. Don't make me say it again or else.”

His threat pushes you over the edge. Feeling you clench around him as you reach your high, Aegon thrusts up into you, spilling inside you.

While you catch your breath, Aegon rests his hands on his stomach, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your growing bump. “I love it when you're all swollen.”

You tuck his greasy hair behind his ears, and you lean forward, kissing him. When Aegon found out you were pregnant again with a child that wasn’t his, you thought he’d run from you and push you away, but instead it had brought you closer. He swore to love the new baby as if it were his own, which you believed.

Aemond took great delight in announcing you were pregnant again to the rest of your family and anyone who would listen, despite the fact that you hadn't really spoken to him in weeks. Aemond had stayed true to his word and was around a lot more, but he never really interacted with you or the children. I just observed from a distance.

While the rest of your family seems delighted, Aegon looks ahead uninterested. Of course, this wasn’t news to him, but by now he knew to play along and say nothing. Your mother frowns at him; she leans in and says something you can’t hear, no doubt scolding him.

Aegon clears his throat, then raises his cup before saying, “Congratulations.”

Aemond didn't waste a second in relishing in his older brother's obvious indifference to the situation while reveling in it. “Don’t fret, dear brother,” Aemond pats Aegon's shoulder several times. “Should the time come, I’m sure you’ll get the chance to help keep our Valyrian blood pure.”

Aegon’s face drew a grim line, “It will be daylight soon.”

You kiss the tips of his fingers. It had become harder for you to spend time with Aegon; you lay awake most nights missing his voice, his smell, his touch... and you needed to return to your bedchamber soon before anyone found it empty.

“I love you.”

“I know,” he smiles sadly up at you. “I love you too.”

—

Hearing hushed voices, your heavy eyes flutter open, and the first thing you see is your mother and husband sitting by the table on the opposite side of your bedroom. Your mother looked visibly upset as her hands shook as she poured two cups of tea.

“Mother,” you sit up, pulling your covers up to conceal your bare arms. “Did we arrange to have breakfast here?”

She gives you a sympathetic look and says, “We did not, my darling.”

As your mother walks towards you, her hand twirling her faith in the seven necklace, you catch a glimpse of Aemond, who is still sitting, and notice the worried expression on his face. “What’s going on?” You ask alarmed, “Where are my children?”

“The children are fine,” he says. “Aeron is in the nursery with his sisters. They are safe.”

“But someone isn’t?” You pull back the covers and swing your legs out of the bed, ready to go find them, not caring that nothing but a sheer nightgown covered all you were wearing. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you needed to be with them and see for yourself that they were okay.

“Theodora,” your mother stops you, placing a genital hand on your shoulder. “This is about your handmaiden.”

“Tracy? What about her?”

She crouches down so she is at eye level with you, tucking her hair behind your ear and saying, “The body of a young woman was found on the streets of Silk in the early hours of this morning. It was your handmaiden; I’m sorry, darling; I know you were fond of her.”

“Cole identified the body,” Aemond adds. “She was attacked by two men who beat her and stole her maiden hood. They have been arrested and await trial.”

“I want to see her.”

Aemond cleared his throat. “I don’t know if that’s—”

“I want to see her.”

Your mother squeezes your hands. “In your condition, I’m not sure if that’s wise.”

You pull your hands back, ignoring your mother's tear-filled eyes, and you stand with your hand cradling your growing bump, feeling the air being knocked out of you. “I am going to see the woman who has stayed loyal by my side throughout the years and stayed with me through childbirth. Now, either one of you can help me get dressed or leave.”

Your mother excused herself, leaving you and Aemond alone. You reach for a crimson gown; its texture is thick and dragon like, and in the sunlight it looks like scales. Once you removed your nightgown, your husband helped you put it on quietly.

He watches as you place the dragon necklace Aegon gave you as a gift years ago around your neck as a single tear runs down your cheek. “Tell the guards to bring those beasts to the bay; I'm going to the dragon pit.”

“To get Dallax?”

“Daor, vala eater.”

—

You stand with a blank expression on your face, watching as guards force two men down onto their knees. Dallax sniffs the air beside you, smelling the blood of your handmaid that is still on their clothes. You share a look with Dallax, telepathically communicating what is about to happen.

You look down at the men from the edge of the rock you stood on as they beg for mercy. Your blood boils with rage as you think about how bruised and swollen Tracy’s face was, leaving her almost unrecognizable. Dallax roars causing the men to shake and cry.

Behind you, Aegon, Aemond, and Ser Criston await your next move. None of them protested against your known intentions.

You watch as the guards step aside and stand beside your brothers. One of the prisoners looking up at you sobs, “Princess plea-”

“Dracarys.”

Dallax bathed the men in a blast of flames, roasting them before his jaws closed around them, tearing them limb from limb.

You inhale, and your nose fills with the smell of burning flesh, causing your stomach to churn. Turning your back, you begin to walk back to the Red Keep.

You feel the presence of another catching up to you, slowing down your pace as you look at the king's guard standing by your side. “You don’t approve of my methods of justice?”

“On the contrary, princess, I think justice was served,” Ser Criston says, surprising you.

Hands clasped behind your back, you brush aside the gazes burning into you from your beloved and husband. Tears burn in your eyes because you’re so overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed with grief and the realization that one of the only people you could truly trust was gone.

—

“I believe I have misjudged you,” your husband says in a matter-of-fact tone. “What you did today took strength, strength I didn’t know you possessed.”

“And why is that?” Your father asks, “The blood of the dragon runs thick through her veins.”

Standing by the doorway of the nursery, Aemond wouldn’t have been able to see your mother holding Alyssa in front of your father, who was too weak to hold her himself, or Helaena cradling Alina while she slept. His sight had been fixed on Aegon, who was standing beside you, trying to calm your eldest down.

It was the first time your father, the king, had ventured outside his bedchamber in weeks, but the news of what you did was cause enough. It was the first time in a long time your family was in one room.

Aemond quickly changed the subject.

You kept your attention unfocused on them as you continued to fuss over your son, who screamed in your arms. You placed your hand on his forehead, you had never seen Aeron’s face so flustered before. “I think he’s burning up.”

You hear Aegon order someone to fetch the maester immediately. You stare out of the window and into the night sky, watching a dragon's fire appear in the darkness above.

Daor, vala eater - No, man eater

[incorrect-koh-posts]

In your research, have you ever run across any reliable descriptions of Agnes de Courtenay, her brother Joscelin, or Sybilla?

I am sorry to disappoint you, dear anon, but - quite frankly: no. To my knowledge, no first-hand accounts of what they looked or behaved like survive. The problem is that neither William of Tyre nor Ernoul describe women in their texts; the only woman whose appearance William briefly comments on is Theodora Komnena, the Byzantine betrothed of Baldwin III.

As far as I've read, William only mentions Agnes of Courtenay in the context of the annulment of her marriage to Amalric; as one of Amalric's chief character flaws the chronicler mentions that the king was a philanderer who "is said to have abandoned himself without restraint to the sins of the flesh and to have seduced married women" (A History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea, Book XIX), which, by extension, implies Agnes to be the 'betrayed wife' in the way she is so often depicted in modern fiction. William actually goes on to throw quite a bit of shade on her in his recounting of these events, emphasising her two incestous marriages:

"After the death of his brother, however, when Amaury claimed the kingdom devolving upon him by hereditary right, he was forced to put away his wife [...], for it was claimed that they were within the fourth degree of blood relationship, a fact which was later solemnly attested in the face of the church by relatives common to both. An annulment [...] was pronounced, therefore, and the marriage dissolved [...]. Amaury remained unmarried for a time, but Agnes at once united herself in the bonds of matrimony with the noble and illustrious man, Hugh d'Ibelin, son of the older Balian. [...] After Hugh's death and while Amaury was still living, Agnes entered into the same bonds of affection with Renaud of Sidon, son of Gerard. This alliance is said to have been not less illegal than her former relation to King Amaury. For Gerard, the father of Renaud, a blood relation of both as he certainly was, established by his sworn statement the consanguinity of these two [...]. A second annulment consequently followed [...]." (Book XIX)

Ernoul, too, goes on to slander Agnes in his Chronique, accusing her of being an "immoral woman" - which, as Helen J. Nicholson writes, was very likely a result of later political rivalries and "complaints about Agnes's influence over her son" (35).

Of Joscelin III of Courtenay, Agnes' brother and Sibylla's uncle, likewise no description survives. William of Tyre spent quite some ink detailing the deeds of Joscelin's grandfather and father, praising the character of the former but noting about the latter that he "was far inferior to his father in character [...]: a lazy, idle man, given over to low and dissolute pleasures, one who spurned good ways and followed base pursuits" (Book XVII). This Joscelin II (who died in captivity in Aleppo in the late 1150s) was the man who lost the County of Edessa first to the Muslim forces of Zengi 1144, then again to Zengi's son Nur ad-Din in 1146. Thus, Joscelin III, being Count of Edessa only by title, had effectively no lands to rule over and from which to gain income. But he came south to the Kingdom of Jerusalem after Agnes had married Amalric, and the king granted him some land and income around Acre (Nicholson 34). Like Raymond III of Tripoli, Joscelin was captured by Nur ad-Din during the Battle of Harim in 1164, and only released in 1176, and went on to marry a sister of Stephanie of Milly (who was the wife of Reynald of Châtillon). He also became the guardian of Baldwin V in 1185 while Raymond served as the boy's regent.

As for Sibylla, I shall give you Helen J. Nicholson's two cents on the situation because she writes about her far more succintly than I could:

"Unlike her father King Amaury of Jerusalem, her younger brother King Baldwin IV, or her cousin King Henry II of England, no contemporary who saw her described Sybil's physical appearance, so we do not know whether she was (like her father) tall, overweight, with an attractive face, bright eyes, an aquiline nose and yellow hair, or (like her little brother) simply attractive for her age, or (like her cousin) of above medium height, strongly built, with freckles and blue-grey eyes. We also do not know whether she shared any of her father's or brother's personality traits: whether (like her father) she spoke with a slight speech impediment, had a sharp mind and was able to accurately recall what she had heard, enjoyed hearing about history and was always ready to argue a point, or (like her brother) was good at riding, with a tenacious memory and a sharp mind, loving conversation, thrifty, but with a stammer. Sybil's contemporaries scarcely ever ascribed any emotion to her: only her tears of submission when she was humbling herself before Saladin to request the release of her husband Guy after the surrender of Jerusalem early in October 1187, and her tears of joy when she met Guy after Saladin released him in early summer 1188. Such tears were an appropriate emotion for a loving wife. [...]

The difficulty of establishing women's actual deeds and authority from contemporary narrative accounts, which insisted that respectable women should not hold authority of take an active role in society except in certain limited roles (typically as devoted wife or mother), is familiar to all historians who have attempted to study the history of women. The narrative commentaries on Sybil's career present modern readers with the additional problem that their gendered expectations were further filtered through the distorting lens of the complex political situation in the kingdom of Jerusalem. Those commentators who wrote after Saladin's victory at Hattin on 4 July 1187 and his capture of Jerusalem on 2 October 1187 also sought to assign blame or credit for these events and adjusted their accounts accordingly." (8ff.)

Works Cited:

Helen J. Nicholson: Sybil, Queen of Jerusalem, 1186-1190. Routledge, 2022.

Emily Atwater Babcock & A.C. Krey (translators): A History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea by William, Archbishop of Tyre. Colombia University Press, 1943.