#fathers ans sons

[aishnico]

pavel petrovich: stop dating my nephew!

bazarov: you know what? i’m gonna start dating him even harder

[fcb-mv33]

THEM😭🥺🧡🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[bisexual-unicorn0]

There are many things i liked about the finale (and others i didnt) but i draw the line at Ted not being at Coach Beard's wedding

[ace-with--a-mace]

mr neils father pls compliment your son tell him he was amazing pls he was so good

[frie-ice]

This is based on Artdirector123's crossover fanfics, Charges of the Flame Alchemist and The Supernatural and the Scientific, that has Roy as the Okumura brother's father when it was no longer safe for the twins in their world and were brought over to Roy's world, who was a friend of their first guardian, Shiro Fujimoto. To help Rin control his flames Roy teaches him Flame Alchemy, who later becomes the Spitfire Alchemist behind Roy's back.

DeviantArt mem template used: Father-Son relationship meme by donamorteboo.

[convxction]

ooc. Just thinking about if future lucina married and had children... Chrom will be a grandfather and he is yet to hit 30 ... Wow. Chrom and his mixed feelings but you know he is the most excited person in this relationship BECAUSE BRUG A GRANDFATHER!!!!! LOOK AT MY GRANDCHILDREN, SO PRETTY, SO BEAUTIFUL, SO ADORABLE. I WILL MURDER ANYONE WHO HURT THEM, EVEN BREATH AT THEIR GENERAL DIRECTION!!!!!! ok but seriously look at them.

Ok but imagine it with me. Chrom sitting on a chair holding his own recent child, lucina's kid and his other future children's kids too. Just a man with tiny little angels. And they are all sleeping in the same adorable way. Eat your heart, validar. You can't be a cool grandfather bwahahahaha! Also you too /dad/ (fuck u) only one can beat chrom and it is Stahl. Or Kellam tbh. Anyway, give him grandchildren now.

[attractthecrows]

gagrbajfgfgrgafgdaf <-chewing on dead guys

[melpcmene-arch]

Zeff hobbles over to the other. Having been on his feet almost all day he was tired. "I thought I told you to go rest please." Zeff states watching Sanji clean up, "Please go back to bed. You are due to set sail again. As much as it was nice to have you here your stubborn as ever you silly little aubergine. You came back to see me yet you refused to let me cook for you and the crew...always stubborn lil thing."

❝ Stubborn like you, old geezer. ❞ Sanji countered back, finishing up the dishes after drying them and putting them away. ❝ ──I'm like a single mother who works two jobs. But instead of two jobs, it's ten crewmates including myself to cook for day in day out. ❞ The cook stops for a moment, paused, the rag dropped onto the kitchen counter. He sighs, exhausted himself. But it was part of his life, including all the adventure and close deaths and all that stuff. To follow those dreams, to find the All Blue. ❝ Just sayin'. The apple doesn't fall for the tree, but I'm a crab-apple that fell into your damn orchard. ❞

❝ Not like I'm against it. You cooking for them. Plus you got more mouths to feed, and don't forget that Luffy's mouth is equivalent to a family seating. But an old geezer like you can still handle himself, right? Unless you're losing your touch in the kitchen. ❞ He picks up the rag again only to twist it a little in his hands, fumbling a little. ❝ I fuckin' missed you, you bastard. Glad you haven't kicked the bucket yet. And if you need help, I'll cook beside you. ❞

[hestiashand]

i want to draw more naruto art someone hold me down

[midnight-in-town]

Ao no Exorcist is a Shonen series written by a woman and it shows

Since the latest chapter, I've been thinking about how several usual Shonen tropes are written rather differently under Kato-sensei's pen. No judgement or anything, it's just cool to observe. Some examples :

1) Rin's mentor is a woman

2) Rin's secret, despite being the MC, was revealed in ch13 to the entire cast, meanwhile Shiemi, The Main Girl, who was introduced to be so helpless is only starting to be explained.

3) Also, the Mysterious plot-relevant Shonen Parent is actually the twins' mother. (Of course Shiro is super plot-relevant too, but Satan is still angsting over Yuri and she's a huge part of the reason why he's the big bad)

4) Rin also changed his view about his future throughout the story: from dropping out of school, passing by hoping to become the Order's Paladin (probably to cope with Shiro's death and also to antagonize Arthur), to finally showing way more interest and potential in the (less epic and heroic in appearance) field of talismanic cooking.

5) When it comes to arcs, mental illness is a valid reason to build a character arc around...

6) And so is making an arc about girls being "cursed" to basically "get married and have children before they hit 30, the age where their beauty fade thus they become useless" :

7) ANE is a story about women becoming traitors to protect their loved ones, like Mamushi

or becoming overwhelmed because men toyed with their feelings like Tamamo

8) Older women can be absolute badasses like Shiemi's grandma

or Lucy.

9) Complicated mother-daughter relationship and girl friendships are given as much focus as complicated father-son relationships and sweet bro friendships (like Bon and his dad during the Kyoto arc, as well as the complicated but deep bond between the Kyoto Trio)

10) And one of my favorites: full time single dad, asking for help to do the job as well as he can and finding his true purpose in life by doing so :D

Hmm and now that I think about it, the only other Shonen series written by a woman I've been as invested in is Kuroshitsuji, by Yana Toboso, and similar examples can be found in it too, namely:

1) If Ciel ever finally admits needing a mentor, his aunt Frances will probably play that role

2) Girls can be super strong & skilled (Elizabeth, Mey Rin) and clever (Sieglinde)

3) (one part of) the Big Bad is a woman (Queen Victoria)

4) maybe Ciel's entire revenge stems from a conflict between Queen Victoria and Ciel's maternal grandmother, Claudia.

5) the Undertaker has been a continuously freaking pain in the ass because he probably fell in love with that same maternal grandmother and couldn't mourn properly

TL;DR we love our boys and their spectacular growth and development under women's pens a.k.a shonen series written by ladies are hella fun to read. :D

[mayearies]

BAD HABIT miles g. morales x fem!reader

SUMMARY. miles can’t communicate. he has trouble recognizing his emotions, rio knows this. uncle aaron knows this. you don’t know this. you don’t really know anything is wrong, but you always wish him the best. but you can only wish upon the same star so many times until something changes. CONTENTS. miles being head-over-heels, mentioned break up, rio worrying for her son, uncle aaron being against the whole relationship thing, mentioned meeting his parents AUTHORS NOTE. haii i’m not back but ill feed you once every few months also format ib: luvjunie

rio .

mother knows best. we all know this. a mother knows when she sits on the couch and her 15-year-old sits next to her and starts going on about his girlfriend, how he’s everything she’s ever wanted that he’s in love.

but, a mother also knows her son. “miles, let me ask you something.” she sighed, “how much does she know about you? you tell me all these things about her, does she know the same?”

he paused, taking a soft breath, “i mean, no. but she doesn’t seem like she wants to know all that much.”

her brow creased, “if she’s dating you obviously she wants to know more about you. ¿de qué hablas?”

“yeah, i know, but she doesn’t really ask me.” his brows raised then creased a little.

confusion and concern.

“i’ll tell you one thing, girls tend to not say a lot of stuff that’s on their minds,” she cleared her throat, “they want you to tell them first. it takes a while for them to be comfortable with you.”

miles sighed and bit his cheek. now he was doubting you weren’t comfortable with him. you had only been dating a month.

“i just… want you opening up more. your uncle does too.” her voice turned softer. now miles felt a bit bad because he thought she was being unreasonable with the whole uncomfortable thing.

plus, uncle aaron knows he can’t open up like that to her. he barely has time for his hobbies because of this whole… prowler thing. so what the hell can he talk about? not to mention he can’t even talk to his mother about this because she doesn’t know that either.

“talk to her about comics-con!” miles groaned when she said that. “ma. no.”

rio pouted, “you gotta open up at some point, miles. i mean it.” she noticed one of his braids was slightly undone and braided it for him, “you’re like a shell now. i worry about you.”

miles kept quiet, after a bit he leaned on her shoulder and kept his eyes straight. “i know.”

they didn’t say anything else. rio knew miles knew already. he mumbled a ‘sorry’ and they left it at that with a kiss to his head. there wasn’t a point in talking anymore.

aaron .

“i’m tellin’ you, this isn’t gon’ work out well for you, man.” he warned, “someone’s gon’ end up getting hurt. both you, and her.”

“not like you liked her that much anyway.” miles muttered under his breath, sitting on the couch ans watching the news. just the same thing every week. sinister six this, sinister six that… god damn.

“i never said that, i just don’t want you making a mistake,” he huffed.

aaron was more rough around the edges than his mother, that’s for sure. he didn’t hate him but he was so serious sometimes for no reason. takes part in why he doesn’t talk about this stuff with him. not like he has a father figure to turn to anyway.

“how do you know i’ll make a mistake?” miles felt a bit more defensive now.

“because that’s how it goes—you fall in love, think everything is great, something goes wrong, everything crashes, you move on. it’s a cycle.” he paused before saying this next sentence. “how do you think your ma’s marriage went? think about it.”

miles softed a bit, but he was still a bit irritated. “you didn’t have to go that far.”

he knew that. but it was a perfect example of the worst thing that could have happened. miles sighed, sinking into the couch and turning off the tv. there was tension, and it filled the silence.

“you’re saying i shouldn’t be in love? it’s that bad to like someone?” he kept his eyes on the ceiling.

aaron sighed, finding a better approach to it. “be in love all you want. tell her all about you. your hobbies, what you like. you know how closed off you are, man.” he paused, “just… don’t tell her too much. don’t make a stupid mistake.”

“…alright.”

present day .

miles walked through the apartment door, looking the same as normal. but rio sensed something was off. “qué pasó?”

“nothing. hi, ma.” he kissed her forehead before walking off down the hallway. he didn’t really act like this. his mom could always tell the difference.

“how are you and your little girlfriend doing?” he chucked lightly, trying to make light.

“oh, uh… we broke up.” there was a long silence, “like, today.”

rio was not entirely surprised, but she couldn’t help but ask why. miles shrugged, not facing her.

“just because.”

@ MAYEARIES ‘24

[empressgeekt]

batfam meets the justice league fic idea, where Nightwing convinces the JL that the batfam is the last of the race Gotham bat demons...

made on moble so sorry in advance.

Okay so it starts with Batwoman and Nightwing hanging around the watchtower. Eventually someone (most likely either hal or barry) asks how they are related to batman. Batwoman claims to be his sister, and Nightwing obviously says he's his son. When the question of who Nightwing's mom comes up (along with some of the league thinking that Nightwing was an accident, cause they can't see bats settling down), Batwoman simply says, "he doesn't have one."

The convo sudden shifts to the topic of the 'history' and 'biology' of the bat demon race. How they were nearly eradicated by a war with the Amazon's, and Atlantis, only a few really surviving and finding refuge in the caves below Gotham. Hwo they used ancient forgotten magic to remove all memories of this 'war' to keep themselves save. And finally how they reproduce asexually, by reviving the souls of children who were wrongfully killed. Taking the weak dead spirit and carrying them in their own soul until it could put itself back together.

When asked if this was how Nightwing was born, they confirm it.

BW: oh yeah. Actually 'wing was kind of a surprise you could say.

Hal: surprise?

N: YEP! You see I was kinda of dad's first so he really didn't know what he was doing...

BW: and it ended with bossy big brother screaming his head off in an emergence of a batling that he didn't know he was carrying.

Barry: screaming his head off?

N: oh...well the process of soul splitting, emergence, rebirth, whatever you want to call it, includes the host's soul breaking down enough to allow the younger newly revived soul to detach. It's very painful, So I've heard.

BW; so you've heard? Kid please I know you've heard your father when it came to your siblings rebirth.

Needless to say everyone (especially hal and barry), look at Batman the same way for the next few days.

when Bruce confronts his son and cousin, he honestly can't say he hates the idea. UT would throw off any suspicions sound hus true identity. Not mention give him a new way to mess with hal.

The rest of the batfam (let's say standard webcomic cast, with Terry and Matty McGinnis [time traveled/dimensionhopped], along with flashpoint!batman, because they deserve to be in the safe place rhay is the batfam too, for funies), also find this cover story hilarious, and spend all of dinner adding to the bat-demon mythos.

Thomas would've been the last surviving member of the demon army, who retreated and sought refuge in Gotham, along with his human turned immortal companion of Alfred. Bruce, Kate, and Luke (batwing) would his 'children'.

The normal children would all still be Bruce's. Inculding spoiler, as why she claims she isn't Bruce's daughter, she isn't passing up the chance to mess with the JL.

Eventually the idea gets suggested that they should trick the JL into believing that Batman is pregnant with a new batling. The prank idea slowly snowballs from there and Bruce is unable to stop it. So he agrees to join in, ans rhe prank planninf begins. Matty immediately volunteers to be the new batling, because he technically the youngest and doesn't have a vigilante alter ego yet.

The prank starts out slow. Batwoman and Nightwing increase their visits to the watchtower? Specially when batman is there and they are usually in the same room as him.

Bruce pretends to be more tired often, even pretending to take a nap, where the JL can find him. He also fakes head aches.

Eventually Clark asks him if he's alright. And Nightwing responds with

N: of course he's not. He's working too hard.

B: Nightwing...

N: there's a reason me and aunt BW following you, and it's so you don't over do it!

B: nightwing...

N: even grandfather is worried.

B: Nightwing. I have been through this 8 times already. I think I know my limits. Besides your grandfather has always been worried over the thought of a new spawn in the house.

Clark: !!!!

Once more things around batman grow awkward for the next few weeks.

The end of the fic would be the JL visiting the "bat domain" to meet Matty dressed up in a mask and brightly colored suit. And finding out about the literal small army that batman's been building. Not to mention cameo of Thomas in his bat suit scaring the living crap out if the justice league, and having the time of his life.

Edit: Alright its official, this is going to be my holiday special for this year. So, around Christmas time I'll post a link so yall can read this.

Edit 2: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51963331/chapters/131402920

Happy holidays! hears and early present!

[irenadel]

And if the devil… 10/10

Aemond Targaryen X Maid!Reader TW: For the aftermath of DV Thank you to @barbieaemond for letting me use her beautiful gifs to make this lovely fic banner. As promised am tagging @prettyduckling22

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

It is raining heavily when the queen finds you. The lantern she holds aloft barely lets her and her father see you and they dare not come any closer. Her son’s dragon is wide awake, making a dreadful rumbling sound somewhere deep in her gullet. There is a soft, hazy glow all along the beast’s underbelly, like dying embers, like a fire you make the mistake of considering dead.

Alicent feels like her entire body has been turned to lead, soft and infinitely heavy. She hears her father hold his breath and knows, at least, she is not alone in her terror.

He does not leave her. He holds her shoulders steady and Alicent is grateful for that.

“Aemond…”

When Vhagar picks her head from the ground, moves it like Alicent imagines avalanches must move, she is still making that wrathful, rumbling sound. The ground shakes with it. Her legs feel like they will not carry her weight and she wants to weep, like a child, when the dragon opens her mouth to breathe hot and humid and carrion-like upon her.

She wonders if this was the last thing her son saw with both eyes, before that terrible night where it had all begun to go wrong.

“Try again,” her father whispers in her ear. Always try again. Never a moment’s rest.

“Aemond please,” she croaks out, the feeble light of her lantern trembling in the wind. “I’ll be quick.”

The dragon makes another noise and Alicent finds it to be the most awful of all, for she feels it, to the bottom of her belly, a heavy, nauseous weight, a near human moan of pain. When Vhagar cocks her massive head to better look at her, Alicent nearly cries in fear until she sees those eyes. Always they had seemed beady and lizard-like to her, predatory and unknowable, but now they just seem miserably tired.

For a moment she feels ashamed.

I trusted you with him, the ancient, watery eyes of the dragon Vhagar seem to say to her. I trusted you with him and always you have failed me. First the eye and now this…

She breathes the words between near-clenched teeth and it is a wonder to her that the dragon seems to understand as she turns from her and to her father behind her. She advances without him, without even looking back at him, unable to explain the price of going under the great dragon Vhagar’s wings to him.

He would not have paid it anyway. He has never paid it for her.

When she finds you and her son laying against the wall of stinking, warm scales she almost pays it again. She covers her mouth and traps the words behind her fingers. 

I’m sorry, she wants to repeat, but finds she cannot. Not when confronted with her son’s bloodied face years ago, not now that he doesn’t look at her, you in his arms, wrapped in his green cloak, kept warm by dragonfire, dry by one leathery wing held close to the dragon’s body. She barely recognizes you in the gloom under Vhagar’s shadow. Ugly, scrawny thing that you had been. Remarkable only for your strange coloring and the princess’s favor. You had made Helaena happy and thus the queen had tolerated your ill manners. You had been smart and obedient and made yourself scarce when you had become a problem and Alicent had been grateful for the discretion if for nothing else.

Now she feels ill looking at the blood upon your dress. She cannot tell much else with her single lantern’s light and she almost doesn’t dare whisper it: “Is she alive?”

Aemond’s hand stops, halfway through caressing your short, matted hair. There’s dried blood all over one side of your face, your temple and cheek having already swollen black and blue. Your eyes are closed, your hand holding onto the prince’s neck is swollen too, white-knuckled and clenched.

He still does not look at her.

“You can leave now,” he answers and Alicent does not know his voice in that moment. Wants to shake some sense into him as she has done to his brother so many times. A man’s voice, with a petulant boy’s demand.

“She needs a maester, Aemond,” she tries again, not even knowing if it would not just be wiser to let this all die down. Let things take their natural course and help her son mourn, later, once the danger is over.

Aemond is speaking to you, low and gentle, in a soft, kind tone Alicent hasn’t heard from him since he had both eyes. Some of it must be High Valyrian, the rest Alicent cannot recognize. There is a cadence to it, like music. Through it, she hears Vhagar howl again, sees the pebbles on the floor jump with the monstrous vibration of it all and knows she cannot.

Who knows what would be left of her boy if she lets him lose one more thing?

“I’ll bring the maester here,” she capitulates, kneeling down besides the two of you, just to get a better look at you. A fever, she feels when she dares put her hand on your ruined cheek. But you breathe at least. When she gets up to leave, she feels the tug of her son’s hand on her wrist, terrifyingly strong and uncaring, but is glad that he should at least look at her now.

“It was a lost babe,” he says, his voice that of a man, she realizes now, because all emotion is gone from it. Alicent’s heart turns to ice. “A beating and a punch to the gut.”

She had not fled Vhagar when the hoary old thing had turned to her, but she flees her son now. You and her son.

Things have a price, the septons had said sometimes, when she was young and naughty and free. She thinks of Aemma Arryn and her own four living children. She thinks of her daughter, white-faced and grim in spite of the healthy, beautiful babe she had borne. When she ignores her father’s imprecations, when she drags a young and discrete maester to the seaside cliff where Vhagar nests, when together they try to pry you from Prince Aemond’s arms and succeed only in getting him to carry you gently, ever so gently, back to the Red Keep, she thinks of the price of things.

An apology she will never speak to her child but only to his dragon.

A girl’s life. A boy’s soul.

She is done letting her son pay the price and she tells her father as much. He can handle the gossip and the angry lords. It matters little. If he cannot, then perhaps her son’s dragon will.

The prince waits.

He watches a young, redhead maester unstick the clothes off your body and sponge the blood off your skin. Grand Maester Mellos is too important to bother with you.

He listens and seethes. His mother behind him, eyes moist, looking to him though he cannot answer them.

The young maester tells you the blows to the head are the most worrisome. That and your coming cold. He does not use the word babe when he says there should be no lasting damage, it was an early pregnancy. He gives you willow bark tea for the pain and makes you sweat out the rest of your fever. Rest and food should put you to rights, he says to you. He speaks only to you, firm but gentle, not to the prince standing besides your bed, sword-straight and impassive. He is too cautious and well-mannered to let more than pursed-lips betray his anger at whatever royal mistreatment has befallen you. He has no qualms in telling you to call him if you were to have need of moontea, even with the queen and prince balefully looming over him and his patient. Aemond almost likes him.

The queen tries once to suggest moving you out of the prince’s quarters. She does not try again.

The prince waits.

He will allow no servants to tend to you, no one but the queen and maester. When necessary, he will change the linens on his bed himself while you sleep, the way you had taught him to do with his own royal father. It frightens him, how deep your slumber is.

The prince sleeps as close to you as he dares, curled up like a dog at the foot of his own bed. He crawls in it when you are asleep, unwilling to give you the chance to chase him away, soaking up your lingering warmth, too ashamed to ask for it, too desperate to forgo it entirely. He almost thinks he need not bother.

Because the prince waits and still you will not speak.

Your face has gone from black to green to a sickly yellow. You sit in a prince’s bed. You eat the bread he gives you and drink the stew he spoons into your mouth. Sip the warm tea he brings you while you stare at the sheets and say nothing.

Aemond is too miserably aware of how low he is willing to stoop for your voice to attempt speaking to you himself. He has considered it all. Shaking it out of you, with a shout and a curse. Dragging his brother to this room and killing him for you, for himself. Bringing his sister here. Her children. Taking you in his arms again and taking you to Vhagar, flying across the sea, to anywhere that will make you speak again… smile again…

You are slipping from his hands, as far away as you were during those first few days when he would skulk outside closed doors and steal away snippets of your voice, low and husky, singing foreign nonsense to his niece and nephew.

But he is too tired now to summon the outrage he used to feel, at you owning comfort he could not reach.

So the prince waits… until he can wait no more.

“Please,” he says to you, as you sit and stare. “Please…”

You still say nothing. But you do look at him. You reach for his hand and he lets you have it, for as many hours as you need it, even as it grows numb in your grasp. You hold its warmth to your belly, as if the blood of the dragon could thaw the cold residing in there now.

He looks at your glassy eyes, your white-knuckled hand and his own on your belly and he knows what he must do. He should have done it long ago, the first time he had ever seen the blood on your split lip, the bruises on your pale skin. He should have known better than to let himself be distracted by the beauty they revealed to him. He kisses your forehead before he does, trying not to tremble at the brief taste of your skin. He is a man starving, with hunger’s implacable ruthlessness.

When he returns, he drops your cousin’s severed hand upon your lap. The hand that took a prince’s son from him. Prince Aemond One-Eye himself, a bruise of his own on his face, hair wild, eyepatch and dignity forgotten. What he will never forget again is the sound a man makes when Valyrian steel cuts through his flesh and bone.

You do not understand. For a moment you are so stunned and angry it knocks the numbness right out of your lungs. You look at your prince, watch him fall to his knees, lay his head on your lap, besides your flesh and blood, and almost forget to make sense of the words when they come out of him. Westerosi is only your second tongue after all.

“I would have you sing again,” he says with the hoarse rawness of a man who has just discovered all his cruelty to be bravado. “I would have you laugh again.”

And it is awful, to think Aemond would not know that there is no blood that could buy back your soul. Awful but not surprising, that he should not know pain and sorrow could only beget more of themselves. You had known this of him, the first time you had ever seen a sapphire hiding pain. You try not to think of Angus, still a boy, still as much a boy as Prince Aemond himself. You try not to think of what a hand means to a working man and not to a prince. You try not to think of the bridges he has burnt or the ties he has severed for you forever more, when he severed tendon and marrow.

Because if you start thinking of it, you will find yourself fiercely glad that he did.

You will find within your breast a cry of vicious triumph, that sounds to your mind like a Dothraki screamer. Nothing that could ever bring you comfort. Nothing that could ever pay for the death of your dreams, or your hopes, or your love for a boy who had been your boy until he wasn’t.

Nothing that would help.

But still, Aemond had done it for you. Useless, the mother you had barely known had called it in the far reaches of your memory, when men beat their breasts and swear death to you.

Useless perhaps, but he had done it for you.

He lets out a sob when your hand runs through his hair.

“You have no coin,” you say to him and he near cries in relief at the sound of your voice. “To buy back my joy. There is no joy left for me in the world. I have nothing.”

You’ve taken it all from me, you do not say. With black steel and my kinsman’s blood. No hope now, to go back home.

Good.

You think of getting up and not looking back. You think of sailing the poison water and finding your way back to the land of your father, to endless grass and sun-baked earth. You see life unfurling before you, empty and safe. A man maybe. A strong rider who would give you strong children instead of moontea and grief. Small, boring children that do not eat your insides with fangs and claws and fire.

Aemond burrows his face into your lap and crushes your borrowed shift and sheets in his bloodied hands.

You know you cannot. You have no home left but him.

“You’ve nothing I want, Aemond One-Eye. Nothing to pay me with but one thing.”

You see him whip his head off the bed to look at you, the nightmares and dread written clearly on a face too young and beautiful to bear them, warring now with desperate hope. You take this face into your hands, this face you have cherished and cursed, and hold it close to yours, grip tight enough to keep your hands from shaking.

“You,” you breathe and he reaches back for you, hands flying to your neck and gripping you as close as you grip him, choking back a cry of savage joy. “You are the only thing I will ever want again. The only coin I will take. I have nothing but you, nothing. So you will pay me with your life. Swear to me… swear you’ll live forever.”

Easy promise for a king’s son, you think. Easy to think you would go first, of toil or hunger or sorrow. As long as he lived it would be alright.

“I swear,” he answers as he lets you taste the tears off his lips. “Forever.”

I almost cannot grasp I am done with this. It's been consuming my life for the last couple of months. I've been virtually possessed by the idea and I am just glad I was able to surf the wave until I could finish it. Extra chapter and all. I think I've got a couple more Aemond porn one-shots in me that I've started and will probably try to finish. Some Helaemond X Reader and some Aegond X Reader if anyone wants to hear a little bit more of this verse... or at least the shoddy AU I have to conjure to get the pretty Targaryen people to fuck without killing each other. Thank you so much to everyone who commented and left likes. ...not that I will ever admit to obsessively refreshing AO3 and tumblr for likes but yeah... You guys are the best T_T thank you

[gingiesworld]

New Sheriff in Town

Requested by @louxbloom

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/ Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst. Fluff.

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda and Vision were high school sweethearts, everything seemed perfect until she fell pregnant before graduating. Vision proposed to her as soon as he found out which Wanda had said yes.

It all seemed fairytale like as the years went on, Wanda being the stay at home mom as Vision went to work with his uncle at Stark Industries to provide for his family. As much as Wanda loved being a mom to her sons, she hated being home alone. Living the same day, same routine over and over again.

As the years went on, Vision had started to treat Wanda as a maid and not his wife, the twins soon caught on and started to treat her the same as their father did. As much as it broke Wanda's heart, she couldn't leave. Even though her friend's Natasha and Agatha would tell her otherwise. She had an obligation to be there for her family. That is what she was taught the perfect wife was.

That was until Vision had handed her divorce papers as he packed his things. Leaving her to raise two teen boys as he moved in with the 20 year old twinkie in the city. The twins had blamed Wanda for him leaving and never really cut her any slack. Wanda would also find herself crying herself to sleep every night. Wondering at what point her life had took a turn.

But with two 15 year old boys, running amuck throughout Westview. Especially being just as entitled as their father, always causing noise and destruction wherever they go. Only to be yelled at by Wanda before the two would make her cry.

A new resident had moved in ane joined the local Sheriff's department. Well they were the new Sheriff. When they saw the two yelling at Wanda, blaming her for their father not wanting anything to do with them.

"Hey!" Their voice boomed, causing the three to look in their direction. "I suggest you boys show your mother some respect."

"What are you going to do about it?" Tommy sneered as the twins crossed their arms across their chests.

"If I catch you boys doing anything out of line, I can have you arrested." They told them sternly.

"What? You gonna call the police?" Billy teased as Tommy laughed. They sighed as they got their badge out.

"I am the new Sheriff so I suggest you start to respect your mom." They told the two sternly. "Also, if I catch either of you vandalising any property, that includes your mom's house, I will put you in handcuffs. Do you understand me?" The two just nodded before walking inside as Wanda approached Y/N.

"Thank you. I'm Wanda." She introduced herself.

"Y/N." They shook her hand. "Well it was nice to meet you but I have to get to the station." Wanda waved nervously as she watched them walk away.

As the time went on, Y/N had found Tommy drinking in the park. So they approached him with a soft smile on their face.

"Hey, you're Wanda's son right?" They questioned as Tommy just scoffed before having another big sip. "You know you can talk to me."

"About what?!" Tommy spat. "How my dad left us and we've blamed mom all the time for it. Especially seeing him with his new wife and kid."

"Listen, I understand how hard it can be to have a parent give up on you." They told him. "But your mom is still here. She is still looking after you and your brother. You just need to give her a chance. It isn't her fault your dad quit on you guys. That's all on him so please just cut her some slack. Talk with Billy too. She deserves better than the crap you two have given her."

"I'm sorry." Tommy cried as Y/N put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Save that apology for your mom and do it sober." They told him before standing up. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home." That was the first time that Tommy had felt extremely bad for how he had treated his mom. He hated himself and he hated his dad.

Once Y/N had pulled up outside of the Maximoff residence, Wanda came running out, worry etched onto her features as Y/N helped Tommy out of the car.

"Is he ok?" She asked them as they helped him inside.

"He's just drunk." They told her when they lay him on the sofa to sleep. "He's going to have one killer headache in the morning."

"Thank you." Wanda told them sincerely as she walked them out.

"It's no problem. They have been served a bad hand. The three of you have." Y/N told her softly as she smiled. "I will help keep my eye on them outside of these walls but the rest is on you Maximoff." They told her as she nodded. Watching as they left once more, this time admiring their form in their uniform.

As the time went on, the twins were better than before with Wanda. Doing chores without being asked and even making her drinks.

"I honestly don't know what has happened but it feels like something out of a horror movie." She whispered to Nat as the two stood on the porch, watching the twins mow the lawn and wash the car.

"I know what you mean. It's kind of like an alien invasion." She replied as Wanda nodded. It wasn't until they saw Y/N doing their rounds. Wanda noted that they weren't in their uniform as they stopped and spoke with the twins. "Or maybe a new person has something to do with it." Nat soon noticed how Wanda was silent as she watched Y/N and the boys laugh about something. "You like them." Nat pointed out as Wanda snapped her head in her friend's direction.

"No." She laughed as Nat smirked.

"Yes you do." She told her. "It's ok to want to move on Wanda."

"I know that but the twins have just stopped hating me." She told her. "If I change something it could ruin it."

As the year went on, Wanda had organised a BBQ for the twins birthday. Inviting their friends and family, Y/N had come with some gifts for the twins. Tickets to see their favourite team play the next game. It wasn't until Vision walked inside like he still owned the house.

"Vision? What are you doing here?" Wanda questioned as Vision smirked.

"I came to wish my boys a happy birthday and give them their present." He said as he waved a set of keys in her face.

"Please leave." She spoke shakily as the twins soon noticed the commotion. Y/N's gaze followed theirs as they soon moved to Wanda.

"She said to leave." Tommy stated as he stood beside Wanda.

"You will speak to your father with respect." He spat at him angrily.

"When you see him, let me know." Tommy smirked as Billy held his mom as she cried. All of her anger, pain and sadness coming back ten fold. It was when Vision was about the back hand Tommy across the face Y/N had stepped in.

"I suggest you leave." They told him as they gripped his wrist tightly.

"Fuck you." Vision spat before taking a swing at Tommy with his other hand. Y/N getting in the way and receiving a jab to the jaw.

"I won't ask again." They snarled as they towered over him. "Leave now or I'll have you arrested for trespassing."

"Whatever." He snarled before turning on his heels and leaving the house. Y/N soon got on their phone to a locksmith.

"The locksmith is coming tomorrow." They told Wanda who soon wrapped her arms around them. They were shocked at the action but reciprocated the hug regardless.

"Thank you." Wanda whispered before she kissed their cheek. The party continuing as Vision had never came. The twins barely left Wanda's side as everyone soon started to leave.

"Y/N." Wanda called out before Y/N got into their car.

"Are you ok?" They asked her as she nodded, not expecting her to wrap her arms around their neck and kissed them passionately. Y/N sunk into the kiss as she deepened it. When she pulled away, they watched dumbfounded as she walked back inside. A smile on her lips.

[starlightnorris]

tuesdays - charles leclerc

word count: 1.2k

warnings: some french using google translate but not a lot

lyrics from tuesday by jake scott <3

flashbacks in italics

Two years this summer I knew it from the day I saw her We were gonna be together

"deux ans," charles says as he looks at you, a tone of disbelief in his voice. he knew from the moment he met you that he wanted a future with you, but to be here two years later was mind-blowing to him. “happy anniversary, mon amour.” his words are quiet and his fingers mindlessly trace over your skin, bringing warmth to you.

“can you believe it?” you ask, a soft chuckle leaving your lips. thinking back to when you had first met, how you were still in a relationship and charles did everything to make it known that he liked you but never crossing the line because it wouldn’t be fair to your boyfriend.

“charles, i’m sorry but i’m in a relationship,” you said, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips. you appreciated his attention, and if you were being honest with yourself, the feelings between you and your boyfriend seemed to be drifting away, something that you had never pictured happening before. you accounted the change to the chaos in both of your lives, he had recently started a new job and you were finishing up university, so the two of you were just incredibly busy at the moment. but you knew it was more than that.

so you did the thing you knew what you had to do. you ended the relationship, and after the conversation, you realized the feelings were more mutual than you thought. and while you didn’t find it to be fair to move on so quickly, you didn’t want your moment with charles to pass, so you contacted him a week later, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to see where it led.

“remember when you broke up with your ex-boyfriend so you could be with me?” charles asks, and you let out a disbelieving laugh at his words.

“it wasn’t exactly because of you, leclerc,” you say, a giggle escaping your lips as he pokes your side. “but i’m glad it happened.”

That's why I'm here to see her She doesn't know I'm in Virginia But I know she's mine forever

So I'm askin' for your blessin' And maybe just one lesson He said, "27 years, and here's my takeaway"

“charles, it’s good to see you,” your dad says, shaking his hand.

“it’s good to see you, sir,” charles says, and his heart is racing as his prepared speech runs through his mind. he’d been preparing for this moment for weeks now, but really it’s been years at this point. he’s known for a while now that he wanted to marry you, but now that he’s here to ask your father for his blessing, all the rehearsed words have just left his mind.

“sir, i want to ask y/n to marry me,” he says, the words rushing out of him, all the careful thought out words leaving his mouth in one jumbled sentence. “i came to ask for your blessing, but even if you don’t approve, i know i want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

charles’ eyes widen as he realizes what he said and he says, “i’m sorry, sir, that was incredibly rude. i respect your opinion very much, sir, but i love your daughter and will do anything i can to spend the rest of my life with her.”

your dad looks at him was an amused look, recognizing the younger man’s love for you, having felt similarly for your mother for countless years now. “you have my blessing, charles. just continue to treat her right if you know what’s good for yourself.”

“thank you, sir, i promise i will,” charles says, emotions flooding his mind.

“welcome to the family, son.”

It's not just picture perfect dancing in a white dress

“our first dance as husband and wife,” charles whispers as the two of you dance around, your family and friends watching the two of you. it had been the most perfect day, getting to marry the man you had grown to love so much. and being here with him now, getting to officially call him your husband… the feeling was unmeasurable.

“i can’t believe we’re actually married,” you say, shaking your head with a soft laugh.

“well believe it, mrs. leclerc,” he says softly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips which elicits a cheer from the people around you.

It's not just rainy days when nothing stops the fighting

“i’m not in the mood for this conversation, charles,” you say, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. “i’m tired and i don’t want to deal with whatever bullshit excuse you come up with now.”

“y/n, i’ve been working! i am barely here during the season, you can’t expect me to want to clean around the house during the short time i’m here,” he yells, making you flinch.

“that’s the problem, charles! you’re never here but when you are, you make the house a fucking mess and then expect me to be the one to clean it.” you run a frustrated hand over your face, feeling the tears welling in your eyes. you quickly try to blink them away, but charles catches the change in your demeanor, quickly moving over to you.

“mon ange,” he whispers softly, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away a tear that had escaped. you wanted to move away from his touch, but instead you leaned into it, a soft sigh leaving your lips. “i’m sorry, i’m just frustrated with the team and not winning, but that’s no excuse for me to treat you like this.”

“it’s okay, charles.”

“no, amour, it’s not,” he says, gently pulling you into his arms. “i will clean up first thing in the morning, but can i just hold you right now? i think we both need that.”

you nod wordlessly, leaning into his hold. marriage was hard and the demands of charles’ job had taken it’s toll on the relationship at times, but you both knew that these lows were worth fighting through, because at the end of the day, you knew that you were soulmates.  

It's not just highs and lows, and champagne toast I've come to know that love's not only the best days Or the worst days Love is the Tuesdays Yeah, love is the Tuesdays

“good morning, amour,” charles says softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer to him. “i missed you.”

“you’ve been home all week, char,” you say with a laugh, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

“i know, but i still missed you, i missed just waking up with you on a day where we don’t have anything to do.” his eyes travel to your lips and he slowly moves to kiss you, his hand going behind your neck to pull you closer. “i miss these moments when I’m away.” he continues to press soft kisses to your lips, and a giggle falls from your lips.

you loved these days more than anything. a day that it was just the two of you, nothing planned, just getting to spend time together. “i love you,” you whisper against his lips, feeling him smile as he hears your words.

sorry this was kinda all over the place

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Hiii can u write part 2 about Maegor when the stepson is older and again like Aemond he became a amazing warrior. His father family can to petition Maegor about something and reader ia there with her new kids ans her son. Her ex husband family is panicking when the son calm Maegor father and because he doesn’t use an eye patch. There’s a ruby in the place of the eye he lost. He’s basically a mini Maegor without write hair. His mother and stepfather’s are proud.

A/N: I hope you like this!

pairing: Fanon!Maegor Targaryen x Reader

summary: Maegor when the stepson is older and again like Aemond he became an amazing warrior. His father's family came to petition in front of Maegor about something and reader is there with her new kids and her son. Her ex husband's family is panicking when the son calls Maegor father and because he doesn’t use an eye patch. There’s a ruby in the place of the eye he lost. He’s basically a mini Maegor without white hair. His mother and stepfather are proud.

Word count: 1,5K

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Garvey hissed moving out of the way before the sword could hurt him and deflected it easily with his dagger. His right hand adorned with a sword and his left with a dagger. As usual a crowd had formed around him and his personal guard to watch them spar, a friendly daily occurrence, sometimes you came to watch him along with his siblings and sometimes you his stepfather decided to join. This day however you both were busy preparing for a petition, his old family the Grey family was coming soon. Garvey was twenty and six now, at the hight of his strength.

His older brothers who were twins were fighting over lands and the title of Lord, again. Garvey raised his foot and kicked his guard in the chest sending him on his back powerless and moved to place his sword at the guard's neck and his dagger over his stomach.

"I yield" The guard called, two words Garvey had heard from the same man every single day for the passed three or so years. Garvey smirked and moved to stand up straight and helped the guard up.

The crowd around them exploded into applause for him. The Grey that was raised among dragons. His hair was long enough to reach his shoulder but he tied the front of it back to show his face, to show his scar like his stepfather told him to do, show it proudly. Maegor had gifted him a ruby to place in place of his eye and now he had one grey eye and one red eye.

His remaining eye paused when the gates opened and two wagon houses rolled in with the flags of house Grey waving in the wind. Garvey turned to his sister Maena who was ten and six, the only one of his siblings to have showed up that day to watch him, not surprising considering the fact that they were in love and in the process of convincing his mother and her father to let them marry instead of marrying her to her younger brother Aegon. She gave him a small smile and moved to wrap her arm around his.

"Come brother, you must wash before the petition" She scolded. he obeyed and let her pull him away from the crowd and into the Red Keep again.

Garvey bathed quickly and changed to wear the clothes you probably sent for him, black trousers with a red tunic to top it, the colours of house Targaryen. When he stepped into the throne he was announced by one of the guards.

"Lord Garvey of house Targaryen and Mormont" The entire Grey family whipped around to look at him, he was announced by the last name of his stepfather and his mother, your last name, Mormont, it was unheard of to be announced by the house name of the mother.

Maegor smirked watching their reactions atop his throne of swords and turned to look at you. You were glaring at your old stepdaughter whose son was the one to maim your son but when Garvey stepped in your face morphed into a proud smile watching him strut closer to the throne. The Grey family moved to the sides forming a walkway for him leading to the throne, some of the women gasped in horror at the sight of the scar and missis eye uncovered and instead a ruby in its place. Garvey bowed to Maegor before moving to stand by your side.

Maena snicked by Maegor's other side at their reactions. Maegor face softened when he looked at her admiring Garvey and him smiling back at her from the other side. Aegon who was only ten and two, the age where he despised his older sister and thought all girls disgusting. Beside Aegon stood your third child from Maegor and the last, a little son of five namedays who was called Viserys.

"You're late, Garvey" Maegor scolded, however his tone was light and made Garvey raise a teasing eyebrow.

"Apologies, father" Garvey's heart fluttered with joy at the horrified gasps.

"What is the meaning of this?" Dannis, the oldest of the twins hissed glaring up at the king.

"Why is our brother calling your grace father? Disrespectful shit needs to be punished, your grace, we apologise for our uneducated brother" Laina, his sister scrambled to say, trying to get on the good graces of Maegor. The sister who taught her son that what he did ti Garvey was okey because he was weak. Maegor burst out laughing much to their shock. You giggled behind your hand.

"No one will touch my son, Lady Laina, Garvey is the son I did not father but raised and soon he will be the husband of my eldest and heir, Maena" Maegor gestured to Maena. She gasped turning to look at her father as if awaiting him to say that it was a joke but he did not. You winced a little finding this queer but did not spoke up, your children loved each other and the King himself betrothed them, you had no say in the matter so you chose to ignore the fact that they were siblings and was happy for them.

"An honour, your grace" Laina stumbled a little. Her son's eyes were wide looking around before settling on Maena, that fucker. Garvey's fists clenched when he noticed who that little shit was looking.

"But wouldn't my son, Randar, be a better match? he is whole after all" Laina pushed her son closer to the throne. Your hand snapped to Maegor's shoulder squeezing it tightly, furry build into your form when she dared to look at you and smirk.

"Lady Laina, it would do you well to learn your place. Slandering my wife's first born will end with your head on a spike!" Maegor yelled, slamming his hand down on the metal handle of the throne, one of the rings on his fingers hitting the metal harder than the rest letting the sound of metal echo around the room. "His lost eye does not make him any less of a man"

"Garvey" Your calm voice followed Maegor's loud and booming voice. You took a step forward letting your hand slide down Maegor's arm and let him hold your hand instead. Garvey turned to look at you instead of glaring at his sister.

"Do tell me son, when was the last time you lost a fight either in the training yard or at a tourney?" You asked, calm on the outside but fuming on the inside and Maegor knew from the deathly grip you had on his hand but he did not mention it, he never complained and instead always said he was too strong to fell pain from it.

"Three years ago mother" Garvey answered, a smirk returned to his face. You smiled proudly and turned to look at Randar.

"When was the last time you won a tourney?" You asked. Maegor smirked noticing the change in the question.

"Never" Randar mumbled ashamed. Laina wanted to jump at you and kill you in your spot but you were queen now, she could not do that.

"In that case who is the better match husband? One who never looses a fight and can protect our daughter or one that never one a fight and probably would push our daughter in face of danger to save himself?" You asked turning to Maegor. He raised your intertwined hands and placed a kiss on one of the rings he had gifted you, it was a ruby in the middle of a gold band, a ruby of the same colour of Garvey's eye.

"I think there is no comparison, sweet wife" Maegor answered. Garvey looked down at Randar who huffed annoyed, rolling his eyes. That broke Garvey's control and made him pull out his dagger stalking over to his nephew and pulled him closer by the collar with the dagger to his throat.

"You dare roll your eyes at your king?" Randar's eyes widened in shock. Laina tried prying Garvey off her son but her strength was nowhere near his.

"Garvey, let the fool go, he is not worth your energy" Maena called from beside her father. Garvey sighed feeling weakened by her voice alone. He closed his remaining eyes to compose himself before pushing his nephew off making hims tumble and fall on his behind. Randar was horrified to find that Garvey's maimed eye did not close and remained open.

"Now back to your petition, Lords Dannis, Laroy" Maegor ended the argument turning to the order brothers who were silent the entire time. Probably the smartest decision they have ever made in their lives.

"Your grace" Laroy shakily stepped to the middle so he could petition for himself. Garvey put away his dagger before moving to stand by Maena instead of his mother this time. Maena reached between them to grab his hand in her own, he maybe older than her by ten namedays but she was the one with the more patience and the one to anchor him.