#fic: dance baby

[soldrawss]

Something something 16yo 2k12 Mikey gets sucked into a portal and sent into the RISE universe and ends up helping raise the RISE kiddos AU

[ashipiko]

DANCE WITH ME YOU LI-IA-IAR ♡

OVERBLOT ASHI??? ANYBODY??? the ANGST that this baby can store!!! SHEESH!!!!!!! <3 I only have one post dedicated to her and liar dance lyric analysis (the post is kinda outdated in gen) BUT…… I also have an overblot monologue as a treat 🫶 I wanted to better explain her angst and so!!! BABAM!!! enjoy

ASHI’S MONOLOGUE:

Sometimes I wonder why I ended up here.

A place named “Twisted Wonderland”, and at a school named “Night Raven College”.

At first, I figured that I was the odd one out— Y’know, the Ramshackle prefect and everything. The magicless girl at the magical all boys school? Nuts, ain’t it?

I’m known for a lot of things. Things that are different from the others. The fact that I stand out is part of the Ashi charm, something I’m known for.

But… Over time I found myself sorta feeling in place here.

Because as much as I try to believe it, I can’t safely say that I’m better than anyone else here.

I’m a fake. I make conversation and lots of friends, but for what? A backup in case something goes wrong? A sense of protection for my reputation? In what case are any of those friendships something I truly want? In what case are any of these strings more than just a tool instead of a thread made of my real feelings?

Behind this, I’m no different from any other student here. Even through my individuality, my cheerfulness, my endearing oddness… I’m still a horrible person. Using people to get what I want, toying with people and their feelings in order to gain power and gain a spot the top. All to become untouchable. It’s screwed. It’s not right.

My insides are ugly. The truth of me is something I want to keep tucked away deeply, because I don’t want people to see this part of me. A brash, annoying, selfish version of me, everything people hate to see. I don’t want this side of me to be seen because people will run away— people I don’t care much about, sures, but people I love, too. I don’t want to drive them away. So I keep quiet and give them a shallow show.

I give them a source of entertainment that’s controlled by the real me, every calculated movement translating into a marionette-like response. The only show I allow you to see is one that’s so carefully crafted by the chaotic clown backstage. The one that is shunned away from the light, the strings being the only hint of the puppet’s phony existence to the foolish audience.

But suddenly, I feel as if being here has started to let this side of me come crawling back into the spotlight.

It scares me.

It scares me to be vulnerable, let all of my faults lay out on the table like playing cards. To take the risk without the protection, to gamble everything I’ve built up away just like that. But you…

You.

You make me feel safe. You make me feel as if I don’t need to hide anything. I can give you the key to my heart and you would have no malicious intent. You wouldn’t cut out the parts people don’t like. You would enjoy the performance in full, every bit of it.

You make me believe that I’m nothing special, and yet something so valuable at the same time.

It’s silly. You’re silly. And yet that’s something that’s helped me.

It’s helped me realize that that truly is just how people are.

We aren’t villains. We aren’t antagonists. We aren’t monsters.

We are nothing but people, with faults and feelings that should be valued.

I am more than just a jester, a sake of entertainment.

I’m a person who is entirely worthy of love. All of me.

It reminds me that I must’ve came here for a reason.

Because this is where I belong.

[uselessimpulses]

i can guarantee its awful country music in the background but theyre having a blast

a post trimax livio n vash twt art request for a friend 💕

[elephantlovemedleys]

i do love rich girl x lower class boy romances especially when it's dimitri and anya or baby and johnny

[artaxlivs]

Nobody's Baby: A Steddie Dirty Dancing AU where Steve "Baby" Harrington meets jaded dance instructor Eddie and finds out that love and trust are dance partners.

“He’s cool. He helped me carry a watermelon,” Robin chirps, heading toward the tables of food.

The guy looks at Steve again, he’s got a toothpick in the corner of his mouth and he chews on it, rolling it from one side to the other. He’s like, insanely sexy.

“I carried a watermelon,” Steve repeats, dumbly. The man raises his eyebrow and Chrissy snorts a laugh behind her hand.

“Steve, this is Eddie, my dance partner. Eddie, this is Steve. He’s a guest but he’s a nice one,” Chrissy tugs on Eddie’s hand but not to leave, just to signal to him maybe? A reminder to be nice and not eat the guests.

Steve ups the anti on just how stupid he can look but finger waving. Eddie huffs out a scoff and turns away, tugging Chrissy with him back to the dance floor.

Steve mouths, “I carried a watermelon?” at their backs, slapping himself in the forehead as he follows where Robin had gone.

He finds her at the table, not cutting the watermelon. There’s a guy there loudly reminding her she’s not allowed near the knives and she says, “yeah yeah yeah, shut it.” Before turning to Steve, “Hey Dingus, I added two more tallies for you. One in the You Rule column for helping me with my melons.” She leers and he balks. “And the other in the You Suck column for drooling over Eddie. Gross.”

“I was not!” He hisses even though he totally was. Whatever.

Read the entire thing on Ao3: Nobody's Baby

[thedeadthree]

✧ — 𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

-`. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @carrionsflower and @loriane-elmuerto tytyy sm lori and airika!!!!! 🥀💌🐦‍⬛

✧ — 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓.

coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees | macarons or eclairs | typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens | masquerade ball or cocktail party

✧ — 𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐓.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 — bel canto.

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐎 — nostalghia.

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊 — mannequin pussy.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀 — chappell roan.

𝐃𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐋 — florence + the machine.

— 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠:

@sunsofdawn, @pavus, @happilyobsessing, @girliefailure, @alvsanne

@auricfog, @jamessunderlandgf, @weisshaupts, @grapecaseschoices, @risingsh0t

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @full---ofstarlight, @fenharel, @unholymilf

@aelyosos, @anoramactir, @roofgeese, @cloudofbutterflies92, @griffin-wood

@southernreaches, @chainsawsangel, @leviiackrman, @tethrras, @rosykims

@tommyarashikage, @carlosoliveiraa, @courtana, @lilywatt, @kroganloveinterest

@shadowsofrose, @celticwoman, @shadowsofrose, @dialdrunk, @kissingwookiees

@neonshrike, @confidentandgood, @lavampira, @adelaidedrubman, @imogenkol

@kanos, @deadrlngers, @elluvians and you!!!!!! 🥀💌<3

[natewallace]

It's been years since I wrote Anatomical, Metaphysical and I'm kinda dying that I, a fanfic writer, killed Venom AND Eddie and brought them back better than Venom 3 did.

[thesokovianaccords]

a dazzling haze, a mysterious way

It's New Year's Eve. It's a wedding. Of course, there will be dancing. Happy happy holidays from your Steggy Secret Santa @captainjimothycarter! Here's a fluffy moment where Steve and Peggy are happy and dancing and still wreaking just the right amount of havoc. (also on ao3)

“I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe you’re still alive, actually.”

Steve grimaced. “Me neither, honestly. I thought there was a chance I’d be turned away at the door. Though I told them I’d be a terrible godfather, so I’m not sure what they expected.”

“Probably not for their four-year-old to pick up some particularly colourful vocabulary from her favourite Uncle Steve.” Sam tilted his head, a smirk ready at the corner of his mouth. “The video is hilarious, though.”

Steve snorted, and then looked around in a panic. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“Oh please, like Tony hasn’t been showing the clip of his mini-me calling a senator a twat to everyone here.”

“Okay, speaking of? Why does everyone assume it was me? Could’ve been Peggy that she picked it up from.” A single skeptical eyebrow from Sam and Steve sighed. “Well, it’s possible.”

“Steve, you’re the one who picked it up from Peggy. She’s more discreet than you—even if she said it first, we both know who Tony and Pepper are going to believe. She probably threw you under the bus.”

He wanted to come to Peggy’s defence, but he knew that Sam was right. Peggy was absolutely ruthless, especially when it came to their goddaughter—and though he’d never admit it (to her or anyone else), it was one of his favourite things about her. 

So instead, he took a gulp of the whiskey she’d handed to him (warning him against stealing the “good stuff” she’d hidden behind the stage) and shifted his weight, subtly changing his line of sight so he could watch the dance floor out of the corner of his eye. The Stark-Potts wedding was years in the making, and New Years Eve was the perfect anniversary for them—with the reception quickly reaching the exact level of pomp and circumstance the date called for. The decorations sparkled, the champagne flowed, and the bride and groom made their rounds attached at the hip. All as it should be.

Despite his joy for his friends reaching this long-awaited milestone, though, he could admit to himself that he was distracted. Not just by dodging Pepper’s glares and Tony’s mocking “language” comments after Morgan’s hot mic moment.

Sam was ranting about something to do with Bucky—Steve was used to faking attention on their ongoing squabbles—when a shimmer of red and a young giggle pulled the rest of his focus. Just in his line of sight, Peggy twirled a laughing Morgan around the dance floor, her stockinged feet flying in the air as they spun, catching the lights reflecting above as they went. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” Sam said, pulling Steve’s focus back from where it usually was, these days. “Predictable.”

Steve shrugged, sheepish. His many denials over the years had been met with disdain, disbelief, and outright mockery from his friends. No point in even trying to maintain a sense of mystery. (Or respectability—Peggy’s words). 

“Dance floor’s heating up. Do you mind—”

“Go on,” Sam said, shaking his head in faux disapproval. “But if you’re leaving me to my sorrows, leave the drink.”

Steve laughed. “It’s your head if it’s all gone—Peggy’s not the only one who knows how to throw someone under a bus.”

With a clap on Sam’s shoulder, Steve walked toward the wooden floor, the many reflected lights of the disco balls dotted around the room spinning around him. The effect was dazzling, and dizzying. Though he couldn’t blame it entirely on the decor.

Peggy’s dark brown curls caught the light as she shifted back and forth, Morgan perched on her feet, both pairs of shoes long abandoned. As Steve made his way through the crowd of other dancers, he caught his goddaughter’s eye and winked. Over the brassy call and response of the band, he caught snippets of a quick back and forth between the two before Morgan stepped down onto the dance floor, dropped into a 

“I seem to have lost my partner,” Peggy said, throwing a wry grin over her shoulder as Steve closed the last few feet between them. With an ease he’d never believed he’d manage, he caught her hand and spun her like one of the mirrorballs around them. 

“I think I overheard something about Uncle Rhodey and a three-tier cake,” he shrugged, pulling Peggy into a light hold as her free palm landed like a brand right where she’d first touched him all those decades ago. Even with those many years, and the infinity of light, thoughtless touches they’d contained, her hand still burned him with the best sort of heat. Like the first time, every time.

“It’ll be hard for you to hide from the bride and groom out here.” She went up on her toes to counteract their differences in height as they stepped apart and together—without her heels, she had lost several of the inches that brought them face-to-face when they danced. “Pepper’s out for blood.”

Steve leaned closer, pulling Peggy in and tapping his forehead against hers. “It’s all about strategy. No one will even notice me standing next to you—you’re glowing.”

Peggy laughed, her head tilting back with the force of it, and Steve was helpless to do anything but follow, dipping her with the slide of the trombone. When he spun them back into step, her cheeks were red and her eyes twinkling. “You are so full of it. I’m wise to your game, Rogers.”

“And what game might that be?”

Peggy tapped his chest again. “I’ve got my eye on you, darling.”

“Good.” The lights spun around them, and he closed his eyes for a moment, confident as he led them in a dance they knew by heart, perfected in dance halls and bars and their cozy kitchen with only the refrigerator light to guide their steps. “That was my plan all along.”

[tumbleweedtech]

okay happy to give a prompt because I need alerudy like I need air they are so underwritten. I’m too Latino and too gay to not need them. Beware because it’s fluffy.

Dance lessons! I headcanon Alejandro as coming from a big family where Rudy might have only had one or no siblings, and you might think that means Ale had more opportunity to dance, that would be wrong. Alejandro got lost in the mix of family and by the time he’s like 15 he 1) can’t dance a basic cumbia because everyone figured he’d just pick it up and 2) is old enough that being bad at dancing is embarrassing rather than endearing. Rudy, by contrast, has been his single mom’s dance partner for years, right up until she got re-married (and he danced his ass off at the wedding too).

So Ale sucks it up and asks Rudy to teach him how to dance because it’s quinceañera season and he can’t go another year claiming he twisted his ankle. So the lessons begin. In secret, late at night on top of a roof near the bar district, where they can hear the music from below. Where no one can see two boys dancing. Rudy has him start by following, then by leading, and then they switch off. Dealer’s choice whether Rudy is dying inside because he’s wanted to dance with Ale for years, or if this is a Gay Awakening, but either way. They’re feeling Something.

I have no idea where this ends which is why I’m giving up custody to you!

how could you possibly know i am currently writing a cumbia fic with alerudy

how. *How*, Nonny? Alright. *cracks knuckles* Let's have at'er. (note: I'm going with Alejandro's mom is Rudy's madrino, and vice versa. Because idk about you, but my nina was treated like my second mother, no questions or argument allowed.) No CWs, just fluff of teenage boys with crushes dancing.

~~

"Alejandro."

"Rodolfo."  

Rudy rolls his eyes at the way Alejo parrots back, defensive. "Si se puede, Alejo."

Alejandro's refusing to look at him, frowning deeply, and it's heartbreaking how beautiful he is even now, gripping his own elbows, hair hanging in his eyes.

It was Alejo's tío who originally showed the boys this spot. The bright lights of the mercado cast its long flat roof into shadow; the strangely blinking red lights on its sign left it feeling private and alone. It hadn't been what Rudy had been looking for at the time. He'd heard there would be a meteor shower, and his mama was working that night. He knew Alejandro would go with him, he just had to find a place dark enough to see the stars.

They never did see the stars falling, but Alejandro held his hand as they watched the grey clouds cover a red-tinted sky and that was enough.

Tonight? The sky was clear and they could hear the distant but cheerful beat of the bar in the alley below. Rudy hoped it'd be loud enough to dance to.

Alejandro never liked failing, grouchy and embarrassed even as Rudy tried to model the steps.

"Alejandro, ven. Por favor. ¿Bailar conmigo?"

Rudy held a hand out, waiting. It was rare that Alejandro would deny him anything he wanted, a fact his mother had pointed out to him with a sly smile. He'd asked her once why she never went out dancing. She had cupped his cheeks and squeezed. "Mijo, there is nothing better than dancing with someone you love with your entire heart. Dancing in a club? You can go with your friends and have fun. Take Alejito, he needs the fun. But I am happy, here, dancing with you."

He was tall enough now that it was easier for him to lead when dancing with her, but she'd taught him both skills. “You never know who you will want to dance with”, she'd insisted.

He was pretty sure she knew who he wanted to dance with.

And that person didn't want to dance with him.

Rudy sighed. "If you want, Tía Lucía is probably still awake. I can—"

With an angry snarl, Alejandro stomped over, holding his arms out stiffly. He still refused to look directly at Rudy now that they were standing so close together under the aging neon sign. Rudy couldn't help but feel a whisper of hope that the tint of red across Alejandro's face was the blush his mama swore was there when he wasn't looking.

"I'm not asking Tía Lucía to teach me to dance for her own daughter's quinceañera. She'll know why I didn't dance at Letty's."

"Okay. You sure you're not going to punch me? It's easier to learn the steps at first if you follow."

Alejandro's shoulders dropped, the frustration leaching out of him with a heavy sigh. He looked around again, taking in the soft echo of the music from below, the flickering light, and gestured for Rudy to come closer. "Not going to punch you. Not your fault, I—"

Whatever he was going to say was startled out of him as Rudy took his hand to pull him close, the other hand on his waist. "Relax."

Rudy shifted him gently, and Alejandro panicked, tightly gripping his shoulder, glancing down at their feet.

"Don't look. Just trust me, okay? Count with me."

Rudy counted a quiet beat, letting Alejandro slowly relax into the rhythm. He was good at it, once he relaxed. Rudy encouraged him around, into a small circle, before the song changed again, a bouncy, cheerful song that Rudy recognized from his mother's small, crackly radio.

"You try leading now." Rudy shifted their joined hands, rubbing his sweaty palm on his thigh before reaching up to clasp Alejandro's shoulder. He desperately wanted to wrap both arms around his neck and press close, but he was fairly sure he couldn't get away with claiming it was part of teaching him to dance.

Alejandro approached it like he did everything else new to him. Brow furrowed, concentrating. Rudy doesn't know exactly when Alejandro managed to get taller than him, but it took his breath away to look up, the bright glow reflecting in Alejandro's dark eyes that met his, studying him so intently.

He tested, his fingers gently pressing, guiding Rudy. His confidence grew as the song went on, and Rudy surrendered to the warmth of Alejandro's arm around him, hand gentle on his back. "Not so hard, is it?"

Alejandro's wry smile as he ducked his head was answer enough. It wasn't a difficult dance, at least not the basics. Alejandro lifted a shoulder at Rudy's questioning eyebrow. The movement shifted Rudy’s hand, and it was excuse enough. He took the moment to curl his hand around Alejandro's neck, feeling the knobs of his spine and tangling his fingers in his long, dark curls.

"Plenty to learn still, besides just the basic steps. Unless this is enough for you?"

Alejandro's voice cracked slightly, eyes wide as he pulled Rudy closer, both of them moving slower as the song faded out. "Might need more practice. I've seen you dance with Nina Antonia, there's spinning involved."

"Then come over tomorrow, after school. You know my mom won't make fun, and we've got the music. She's making pozole anyway, you know you want to."

"Fine," Alejandro huffed, pretending it was a hardship like they weren't always at each other's homes for dinner anyway. Tomorrow was a rare day off for Rudy’s mom, but he knew she wouldn't mind. "One more song first?"

Rudy shifted close again as Alejandro's too-warm hand gripped his ribs and they moved with the rhythm of the drums. Rudy had always enjoyed dancing with his mama, but he thought that maybe she had a point. Dancing with her was very, very different than dancing with Alejandro, especially with the way his eyes glittered in the dark.

[almondmilknosugar]

Dance Dad (33k) by me (15_blossom_15)

“She looked amazing but you yelled at her like she did horrible.” With a scoff, Louis turned back to his mats. “You have no idea how she did, you know nothing about dance.” And that just made Harry even angrier. “I have eyes!” “Well, apparently they’re not working really well, because your daughter was shit for half her practice.” Louis didn’t even turn to face him. Determined Harry walked over to the pile of mats and held on to the one Louis was about to pull away. “She wasn’t shit!” he insisted. “If you can’t put aside what happened between us…” “Oh, you’re really that full of yourself, are you?” Louis chuckled, letting go off the mat. “Incredible. I thought having a kid would’ve forced you to reflect a little, but you’re still that same narcissistic arsehole.”

Harry's twelve-year-old daughter Lara loves to dance. And he loves watching her. If only her dance coach wasn't Harry's childhood crush/ex boyfriend, who makes Harry feel an immeasurable amount of rage whenever he's near him.

[missdarhk]

trying to be more active on tumblr so maybe an introduction is in order so...

hi guys! I'm mila (miss/missdarhk also work); I'm 21 and I'm brazilian! I go by she/her pronouns

so the major fandom that I'm in rn is epic the musical but my encanto fase will never be forgotten 😔✋️

you'll also maybe catch me blabbering about the arrowverse - more specifically legends of tomorrow, batwoman and supergirl - once upon a time, arcane, the owl house, amphibia, a whole lot of comedy tv shows and marvel - shoutout to agents of shields specifically. I miss the blorbos. and who tf knows, maybe I'll even blab about books every once in a while. read 40 of them so far this year after not reading anything but fanfic for years, so I'm really proud of that lmao

mutuals feel free to tag me on stuff, even if I don't reblog it sometimes, I always appreciate that I was thought of <3

and my dms are open to blab about anything, I enjoy making friends (caution warning: once I start talking, you might not be able to shut me down. no give backsies. you have been warned).

I'm kind of an author? meaning I daydream 24/7 and plan tf out of fics and original stories but don't actually write them 💀 though, I've recently started an epic the musical fic (for reals, with words on it!! crazy, right?) with my friend, and we put a lot of thought into it, so maybe check it out? 🫶

[aemonds-wifey]

Warrior Queen & Holy King

Chapter 1

Summary: As heir to the throne of your fathers kingdom you have finally won back your crown , now justice is served it is time to pick up the pieces of your old life…and your old love , the baby Monk

The winds howls echoed through the open , cold castle courtyard . A small scaffold was built by the tower, you stood by the small almost ornate wooden block fashioned for the execution.

Your eyes scanned over the crowd, the nobles had gathered to witness this, you stood in your elegant armour- a steal breastplate covered with a cloak made of black and green colours that intertwined with each other.

Then the crowd turned , Two men, arguably two of your best fighters, Finan and Sihtric - followed by loyal banner man brought him to you , Haesten- bloody, battle worn and in chains. Your eyes never left him as they brought him over the light blanket of snow towards you, a rage that had burnt inside you was beginning to dwindle…seeing him helpless and take his final steps up the scaffold- you felt nothing.

When the siege was finished , only Haesten had remained alive, you offered clemency to him- but he openly tried to attack you when you dropped your guard. Only to be taken down by your superior fighting skills, you decided then and there he would answer for his crimes, by execution- by your royal decree.

They dropped him before the block, forcing him on his kneees , he now knelt before the block- at your mercy.

“Do you have any last words?” You asked inhaling the crisp thin air , the wind howled as the light snowfallHaesten ,at spat at your feet - you did not flinch, she only looked down at him pitifully. Finan moved his leg to kick the man about to meet his death but too held your hands up to stop him.

After all these years, all the torment you had suffered- the years in exile you spent away from your home and fighting to survive. Here you stood. Hands firmly on your sword, ready to behead the man who had brought her so much pain and suffering . The man who murdered your parents, tried to kill you in an attempt to take your throne was now going to face justice. Sihtric had offered to behead him by his own hand, but you insisted you passed the sentence, therefore you must be the one to swing the sword.

You gently knelt down , her face inches away from Haestens , your long silver blonde plaited hair that rested over your shoulder almost touched the ground, you paused before

Opening your mouth to speak.

“This is too good a death for you….but I intend to be a just ruler…to show my people that I will not be the wretch you tried to make me….”

Haesten watched as you rose to your feet, firmly holding the sword handle with both hands - you took a moment and in mere moments, you brought the sword down and severed Haestens head away from his body. His head rolled down off the scaffold and into the snow. He was dead. The people watching did not gasp, they looked on as the tyrant they had suffered for five years was brought to a swift end.

Your squire offered his hands to take your sword, you handed it over to him. Watching as the body was taken away to be burnt , after the head was collected you left the scaffold.

Overcome with emotion you sought refuge by the fire in the council room, as you walked through the many hallways of the old castle you were greeted with smiles and bows. This was the first time you had retraced your steps in the castle since that fateful night , It was still so alien to you, when you were named as your fathers heir you were immediately bewildered by the sudden responsibility on your shoulders - your mother was equally proud of this decision, your parents commanded great respect as rulers of their kingdom and they had bestowed it onto you , their only child. Guided by your parents you started your journey onto becoming a worthy ruler …but then it all changed on the stormy late summers night upon your fifteenth winter.

Haesten sought to claim the throne, believing he was more worthy than a girl , he attacked with a cold fury that shocked you to your very core. After he had slain your mother , he held your father atop of the balcony overlooking the large courtyard , you were stood at the iron gate, your fingers gripped on the metal and only watching at the horror before your eyes. Haesten made the foolhardy offer to spare him and let him wallow in exile if you agreed to marry Haesten. Before you could even refuse, your fathers actioned echoed your thoughts. He elbowed Haesten and screamed at you to run, you could only watch as Haesten mortally wounded your father and tossed him aside over the edge of the balcony. The high pitched scream that left your ears only amplified throughout the stone work of the castle, as you were dragged away to safety- the last thing you saw was Haesten crowning himself with the precious crown he had removed from your fathers head after throwing him over the balcony.

A knock on the door turned your attention away from your memory.

“Yes?” You asked removing the cloak from your shoulders.

Uhtred stepped in , bowing his head slightly. Closing the door behind him.

You smiled warmly, Uhtred was the man who saved you from the burning tower the night Haesten sacked the castle, Uhtred taught you to fight and how to prepare to take back your crown.

He looked so proud of you “Haesten is dead I hear?”

You nodded “Swiftly and quickly. More than he deserved.” You said

Uhtred agreed “true…but you have shown you are stronger …takes courage to not butcher a man out of anger …”

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as you inhaled slowly

“And now you will be a Queen…the mightiest warrior Queen this land has seen.” He said

“Uhtred I could not have survived without you, Finan , Sihtric all of you…I’m eternally in your debt…” you said humbly.

“You have overcome great odds…to win back your throne is no easy feet but you did it…and now the usurper is dead.” He spoke leaning against the stone wall folding his arms.

You inhaled stepping away from the fire, looking briefly at the table littered with open parchments and rolled up scrolls. So much was to be done. You gripped the table end with two hands, looking at the map that was now your kingdom, you looked at Uhtred “I thought you would have wanted to witness his end?” You asked

“I was taking care of another matter …” he said with a glimmer of hope.

“The prisoners…?” You asked standing up straight.

Uhtred nodded only once. “We found them…housed at the great castle on the coast…” he said.

Your heart churned at his words “You mean…? He’s alive?”

Uhtred smiled “Very much…and very eager to see you.”

Your hands clasped over your chest for a moment and your exhaled “Osferth…” knowing he was alive was the greatest news you could have received. Your hand moved to the gap between your tunic and you fished out the small necklace you wore, on a silver chain the pendant was that of a small cross. You held it closely to your lips.

Chapter 2

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[codename-adler]

i already lean more toward one certain wip, but let’s see what the fam feels! here’s my list of wips, which you can consult to see what some of them are about or to ask me more questions about them!! always!! 🤍

[pennyserenade]

i got high to write but now i’m listening to 70s dad music and feeling it intertwine with the very fabric of my being, like god intended

[gingerbreadmonsters]

its so important to me that you know how much ive already cried over this wip and its literally only been two days

[queenviserra]

First glance to The wind's daughter or the pearl of the sea. Are you ready?

Chills are still running through her body, and she thinks it would be a great idea to wash her face again with cold water before going to the Dragonpit.

Riding in the back of Meleys can always change her worst mood, why not today? It will work.

Her hair is in the same clumsy braid of her youth that brings a smile to her face, as well as her nightgowns lying on the floor. Corlys always grumbled that she was capable of putting the entire kingdom, High Tide, and even his fleet in order, but never her wardrobes, especially when she wanted to be near her red beast with Rhaenys always correcting him, "Meleys, husband."

She stands wearing only her small clothes when she looks at his bare back, the idea of slipping under the covers is as tempting as the colors of dawn outside the window, but that would leave less time at her disposal and she has already neglected Meleys quite a bit lately...

Later, she thinks, we shall have plenty of time when I return...

It's there... when she's wearing her favorite riding trousers, there's a little bump in her belly. It's imperceptible, but kind of annoying because her tight pants are even tighter, which almost prevents her from breathing properly...