#he wrote it so all of his children would read it and understand :)

[sweeneydino]

Going through your dad's old stuff.

Was thinking on how to get the turtles to react to Splinter and Sakis childhood. Did the good ol diary.

What makes it even better is the unreliable narrator part 💪

[maxiwaxipads]

City of Borealis, Briar Valley

(i promise i wrote this all in advance a long time ago and I'm not insane <3) The City of Borealis is the hub of Briar Valley’s most populous city with its nearby arcane institute, Grey Wings Institute. Over the years, technology has slowly been implemented throughout Borealis and built up its own population. Borealis was once a part of a befallen human nation which still continues many of its past traditions. (Note: The "War of Morrow" is related to Lilia's dream and that will be the name I will refer to it as) (I should mention this might not fully comply with the information we currently have with Book 7 or the Briar Valley itself. I wrote this a while ago.) (I didn't include all the information I have. Because if I did, finding the notes and piecing them together would be more trouble than necessary.)

Borealis has a known tradition of its Iridescent Festival that celebrates new hopes for prosperity and generates a supple amount of blessings throughout the city. Flowers themselves are decorated throughout the city, and many attendees are donned with them. This year’s Iridescent Festival is expected to be big and an invitation was forwarded to Malleus who’ll also bring you along.

From the rest of Briar Valley, the City of Borealis is quite distinct due to the Briar Valley’s lack of modernism. Borealis is populated with either students of the Grey Wings Institute, scholars, or the local population.

Compared to the rest of the Briar Valley, the City of Borealis is considerably more diverse and contains citizens from all walks of life.

Regarding technology within the City of Borealis, as mentioned before it’s a slow implementation. Despite being more modernized compared to other regions of the Briar Valley it carries technology considered outdated compared to other countries. (The same as everything else, anything regarding outside exports is largely outdated information or technology.) (Even information or materials arrive months or years later within the city) (Information outside the region is passed on slowly, and issues such as magazines or newspapers are often a few months or years old)

The current City of Borealis, it retains half its size than it was 400 - 500 ago. Due to the War of Morrow, its other half was shrouded within a suffocating mist originating from ancient incantation where all dies before there’s sunlight met. Anything that escapes its grasp is either the deceased or old ruins. Sometimes even rare plants curated from a high-magic density can be found growing around. (Cursed forest rumored to be caused by the ‘Rhizanthes Witch,’ or the Witch in Red after killing her king in the name of revenge) (Result of Ancient Incantation rather than natural phenomena, I imagine some try growing rare plants nearby for the amount of magic they hold in one place) (Heavily guarded to prevent anybody from accidentally or intentionally getting caught in the mist) (Though it is being studied, and there is research to see if the ancient incantation placed upon it can be removed)

I imagine one of the Iridescent Festival’s famous traditions is lantern-making. Thousands are released into the sky before they’re permitted to burn with the usage of magic after reaching a certain height.

The City of Borealis, while a territory of the Briar Valley, wasn’t originally a part of the nation, but was previously the royal capital of the Kingdom of the Dawn before its ultimate demise. (Lacked proper leadership, and was on a steady decline) (Compared to 500 years ago, the present is majorly different than the past)

Three Wise Sages (TWST version of the Three Good Fairies)

Wise Sages who've existed since the founding and falling of the Kingdom of the Dawn. Their existence has since been erased since the War of Morrow, with only 2 members of their bloodline believed to be existing.

Uri Ipomoea (Fauna's TWST) has sworn her loyalty to the Briar Valley’s heir apparent, Malleus Draconia. Employed as the Headmage to the Grey Wings Institute, and entrusted as the Lord of Borealis from the current queen.

Betrayed their kindred to side with humans to create the Kingdom of the Dawn. Saw potential with humanity. They are pacifist by nature and refused to participate in wars and battles, though it took the War of Morrow to topple their vows of nonviolence. Morrigan was forced to fight as a general, Aine was assassinated by King Henrik’s order, and Fianna fled after the death of Aine.

(I wrote a lot on these, but basically, Fianna is related to Flora, Morrigan is related to Merryweather, and Aine is related to Fauna)

(While pacifists, that doesn’t mean they weren't petty) (Fianna betrayed her creed of remaining peaceful and killed King Henrik) (Vanished, her fate is believed to be unknown) (Morrigan if you want to count her, though she was technically forced to participate as a general in the War of Morrow) (Aine was killed for her transgression of the war against King Henrik) (In front of Uri who witnessed the death of her mother)

Heralded as the “Three Wise Sages” for their dedication to education and learning. Their efforts led to the creation of the Grey Wings Institute as an arcane school sponsoring solely women. (Before confusing anyone, the present Grey Wings Institute sponsors all genders but first intended to only teach women)

(Could never teach Ancient Incantations in fear of starting a war with the Briar Valley(?)) (Though the sages personally practiced the usage of Ancient Incantations) (They’re able to demonstrate it, but never teach it)

(Originally, the reasons of the War of Morrow started because of King Henrik’s meddling and desire for conquest(?)) (While the Sages are an influential force in their own right, I imagine there isn’t much they can do, except lessen the impact)

(Infamous for their rivalry with the Fairy of Thorns(?)) (Their encounters are enough to make a novel series)

Similar to how Malleus comes from an egg, the sages are conceptualized as flowers. (They feed off their mother's magic until the flower itself can circulate magic on its own) (Basically, it's like asexual reproduction(?)) (that's why they have no dads <3)

Characters/OCs

Uri Ipomoea is the Headmaster of the Grey Wings Institute and the Lord of Borealis. Originally, it was Malleus's grandmother who was forwarded an invitation to the Iridescent Festival, but she forwarded it to Malleus. A young child during the War of Morrow, she is unconditionally loyal to the City of Borealis and strives to continue its growth. (Fauna's TWST)

Mirin Wich-Tree is Uri's adoptive sister and currently attending as a second year at the Grey Wings Institute. Vice-President to the Student Body. (Merryweather's TWST)

Rhodes Strangleweed is from the small village of Dregs on the outskirts of the Briar Valley. Her mother, Fianna Rhizanthes came to this village after her murder of King Henrik. Rhodes is unaware of her mother's true identity until meeting Uri. A 2nd year attending the Grey Wings Institute, a member of the sewing club. (Flora's TWST)

(i have a lot written about them, this is only a gross summary of their characters </3) (all 3 are fae) (fun fact!! they all share the same signature spell but have different incantations) (that are all longer than necessary)

(i have other OCs on GWI's other students, though they aren't relevant to the Iridescent Festival story sadly) (mainly on the student council)

Unique Flora

Sillows are a species of flower within the Briar Valley cultivated to create textile fabrics from its thorny shrubs. Although most abundant within the Briar Valley they occur naturally throughout Twisted Wonderland. Their petals are also collected to make floral teas, as described sweet and savory.

(I imagine because of the Briar Valley’s abundance of naturally occurring magic, Sillows from this region are more flexible when it comes to manipulating fabric with magic itself)

(Like it’s more dynamic to use magic to manipulate the fabric’s form(?)) (They’re quite abundant and considered a culturally special flower to the Briar Valley and the Dawn)

Unique to the Briar Valley, Lumin flowers are known for their luminescence that glow similar to an aurora in the dark. Their natural light is dim, though channeling magic within these flowers will also cause them to simmer even more. Lumin flowers are specially decorated during Iridescent Festivals and glow even brighter when blessings are distributed throughout the city. (Wither once plucked)

(Thousands surround the city) (First appearing as tucked flowers that have yet to bloom) (Decorated during a planned performance of the "Primordial Prayer")

Iridescent Festival

Unique within the City of Borealis which was once a part of a befallen nation, the Iridescent Festival is the celebration of new hopes and prosperity. Thousands of unique flowers are decorated across the city with lanterns symbolizing and hanging to mimic stars. Festival participants don cascading costumes made for dancing and may find themselves wearing decorated hats reminiscent of the wise sages. (<-Often these hats are plain and unadorned for loved ones to embroider and decorate on) (But some might like making unique hats of their own)

During the Iridescent Festival, GWI opens its doors for visiting hours with school activities paused for about a week. Students and faculty host food stalls, games, and performances. I imagine GWI is basically a cultural exchange and more untraditional instead of what the rest of Borealis offers.

Primordial Prayer [Love Stretching Aeon]

Once integral to the Iridescent Festival until the death of Borealis’s Sages, the “Primordial Prayer” is expected to take place upon the final day of the festival which releases numerous blessings founded on good luck and betterment for the future. During the Primordial Prayer, thousands of Lumin flowers glitter luminously throughout the City of Borealis.

The Primordial Prayer itself is a blessing crafted by the Three Wise Sages to inspire hope and bring happiness to the people. Celebration towards hopes of the future and meant to inspire happiness in anyone who comes forth across the spell.

A powerful incantation that only the Three Wise Sages kept to themselves and could solely perform. It’s a potent blessing that shows itself like embers of snow.

Lumins under the performance of the Primordial Prayer are said to glow yellow which is often compared to the stars.

Considered to be a once-in-a-lifetime to those who witness the Primordial Prayer, it’s often played during the last day of the Iridescent Festival. Those who experience the Primordial Prayer firsthand often describe it as comforting and beautiful.

Full Incantation - “Love surmises my existence, feast upon my heart, and nourish from the accomplishments I’ve curated for those I developed yearning.

I, desperate for a beloved’s eternity, understand this as a fraught wish.

Awake your long-held dreams from slumber, as I cast the snowy plain of stars from the heavens onto you. 

Longing, as this moment defines devotion and relaxing the weight upon the waking days.

Illuminate the unchained glisten of the suns and moons, as I cascade a blinding hope upon your hearts. 

Primordial whispers, answer to my call; Primordial skies, answer to the delimited daybreak. This devotion shall hold longer than nigh. Primordial Prayer.”

[mullermilkshake]

An unreadable measure

Part 10 <- Part 11 -> Part 12

You and Jinwoo try and get the twins ranked, courtesy of the hunter's association.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - Pregnant reader, talks about pregnancy, mentions of medical tests/ needles, pet name, hormonal reader,

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

EDIT - I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

You never agreed to meet Jinwoo’s mom and sister until your twelve week scan. Anxiety no doubt.

Jinwoo’s system quest clocked over at thirty out of one hundred. 

Still early into your pregnancy, the twins were growing at the same rate as Hae-in’s pregnancy. Despite a month and a half apart, according to the doctor, Jinwoo was sure she shouldn’t have mentioned that. Odd. You didn’t speak on it though, despite her baiting it like it was some sort of competition. You never bit.

That day, after the scan, you were scheduled to test the mama of the babies in a ditch effort to get some sort of a reading instead of guessing.

Chairman Go’s idea of course.

“This is stupid… how is this even going to work?” Your hand absentmindedly rubbed your visible baby bump, your other lazily pressed to your back.

A short, little man dressed in a smart suit adjusted his glasses and wrote notes on his clipboard. “Well, based on the aura your pregnancy is producing, the Chairman is curious to see if you can produce a score other than your own unreadable measurement. It will give us an idea of what kind of rank your children will be once they are born.”

You huffed and flicked your hair out of your face. “That’s if it actually works, what if it just reads my own score?”

“Block off your aura and only make contact with the sensor using your stomach.”

“How the hell do I do that- oh my god!” Jinwoo lifted you onto his shoulder, high enough so that you didn’t need to reach the meter.

He smiled and ignored the cursing under your breath. You were as light as a feather, and each time Jinwoo levelled up again, he would need to lift you with caution as to not overdo how easy it was.

The man stood back and watched the screen closely, he fiddled with some dial knobs. “Okay, we’re ready. Go ahead and touch it- only with your stomach, nothing else.”

Jinwoo edged towards the meter, holding his breath with each inch. He’d taken note of the babies mana as they were growing even if you couldn’t, and it was only getting more intense with each passing week.

Right now, Jinwoo could sense that if the twins were born with their current mana intact, they were easily upper B-Ranks right now, Maybe even A-Ranks, but that was only a guess.

“We’re going to start the test now, so please hold still.”

You sat upon his shoulder with ease, remaining as still as you could with comfort. Jinwoo stopped as soon as he felt the resistance of your little bump on the meter.

And then it turned on.

The machine hummed and made whatever noises were expected for Jinwoo’s third time standing in that room, and something shifted.

“What? T-That can’t be right…” That man fiddled and spammed the controls. “It’s- it’s unreadable!”

You didn’t react the way Jinwoo expected, more of a slouch if anything. “It’s probably just my mana level you’re reading.”

“N-no… the meter's detecting four separate energy sources…”

“If there’s four, just ignore the two S-Ranks.” It was that simple, Jinwoo didn’t understand his hysterics.

“That’s the thing, Mr Sung… all readings are S-Ranks. I-I can’t tell them apart- it’s making the system overheat, they’re all unreadable!”

“Oh shit.” It was meant to be under your breath, but it wasn’t.

The systems alarm whistled and beeped, airing a warning in the room. Jinwoo set you down and pulled you over to the side getting in between you and the mana meter.

“Turn it off.” He said, commanding the room to the effect of making the man panic further, flicking all kinds of switches. “I said, turn it off.”

“I’m trying!”

The alarms groaned, making the meter tremble and shudder in an invisible icy breeze, emitting smoke from the top of it.

“We have to get out of here.” You left his side and stormed off towards the door that didn’t open. “Why won’t this open?”

“It’s in a system shut down- the whole system’s fried! The room shuts itself off if there’s a fault, it’s to stop further damage to headquarters if the fault causes a fire hazard, it won’t open until the system either cools down or erupts completely!”

“Iron.” Jinwoo called upon his shadow.

He chose Iron due to his raw, tanked strength but also to your own familiarity having met only Igris thus far. He, appeared in his brute fisted glory and hunched over watching you instead of Jinwoo. 

"Who is- What is he doing?" You asked, neither backing away or getting closer.

Jesus… he’s always so distracted. 

Jinwoo pinched the bridge of his nose. “ He's insufferable... Iron. Go and disconnect it before it blows up.”

The shadow nodded and trudged over to the thickened power cable, pulling at it and ripping it out of the wall. 

But the meter didn’t let up.

“It’s still going, it’s going to rupture!” The man ducked and cowered behind the console.

Jinwoo got a hold of you. “I can shadow exchange, keep ahold of me-“

He wasn’t in the room anymore, a split second and the room had disappeared, so did you. The experience was weightless, without any effort and kept him in suspended animation. You had pulled Jinwoo into Royal’s Gatekeeper, floating inside a mana made portal flat against the wall with a viewing hole back through to the room. Iron trudged about the place and covered his face when the meter blew up, casting bits of hard metal and singed plastic everywhere. By some miracle the man by the console survived and Iron morphed back to Jinwoo.

“We should be safe now.” You said, sitting in a position that you almost floated, weightlessly watching.

So beautiful.

He would have told you that too if your nose hadn’t started bleeding right in front of Jinwoo’s eyes. He called out to you, but you’d already stepped back out in to the destroyed and charred plastic covered room. The entire window had blown out, emitting a high pitched winded whistle zipping past on the high floor. The scattered papers from the clipboard were ripped and torn and singed on the edges. 

He said your name again, yet you spoke first. “We didn’t have time to think, so I just acted off of instinct… what is it?”

“Your nose, what’s wrong? Are you feeling alright- are the babies doing something? You used your ability, has it drained your mana?”

You batted him off and wiped your nose, your eyes widening in shock at the red across your hand. “What is… what’s happening?”

“It appears that your babies are using your mana to grow, hence their S-Rank status at three months gestation.”

Jinwoo looked up just as startled as you were. “Chairman Go.”

“I see you’ve destroyed my meter, that was quite a show.”

“It was an accident, Chairman. I think the equipment read it wrong.” You tried to even the playing field, taking accountability.

The Chairman entered the room with his hands hidden behind him, Jinwoo naturally flocked to you, pulling out a tissue to wipe the red from your nose and got in front of you. 

He and the Chairman both mirrored each other, unknowingly sizing the other up in a way that animals did, being in favour of the one who was strongest.

And that was exclusively Jinwoo.

He could obliterate the Chairman quite easily if he wanted to, and he wanted to for not-so-clear reasons. Even so, he also wanted to see how this played out, finding hidden secrets and things in plain sight. There was something bigger at play here, Jinwoo could tell from the jittering in his bones.

“Please, stand down, Hunter Sung. Although the meter will be down for a week or two, I’m thoroughly pleased with the result.” He smiled sweetly, clasping his hands together as though to say, this is just perfect for me.  

“What does that mean exactly?” You asked, emerging from Jinwoo’s guard. “The twins are using my mana- they’re draining me. Is that why I can't sense them? How do you know all this, anyway?”

So you picked up on that too? Jinwoo knew this was all too well thought out, he just never asked the questions until he had something more concrete to go on. You jumped ahead of him once again, a reason for why he was in love with you. Your somewhat dominant side.

“We’ve only seen this once before in Japan. It was the same case there for the mother, and apparently they can use the mother's mana. It disguises their own mana as they'll use the more accessible mana to their disposal. That being said we only have observations to go on, we’re all still pretty much in the dark. it's purely anecdotal... But I think they’ll be some people who’d like to meet you both, but for now, I think further tests are essential.”

You scoffed. “What sort of tests? You’re not prodding me or these babies with needles.”

“No needles, I assure you. Some mana tests and other observations once they’re here. That’s all.”

Tests and examinations needed for Jinwoo’s children? Poking and prodding them while they’re so tiny and vulnerable just to see the rare genetics passed down from their mother? Not to mention anything they could inherit from Jinwoo.

Like hell would anyone treat them like guinea pigs.

“Not a chance.”

“Jinwoo?”

He maintained eye contact with the Chairman, not you. “I said no. No testing those babies, they’re babies . Leave them alone and observe them from afar.”

“Jinwoo-“

“We can discuss this at a later date, for now, go and get some rest.” The Chairman addressed you directly. “You look exhausted. A mother-to-be needs plenty of rest.”

You didn’t respond, not at first, anyway. Not until the Chairman left. “What the hell did he say? I look tired- what does that even mean?”

“W-well-“

“He means nothing by it.” Jinwoo eyed the man from behind the console, emerging back into the room.

“What? What does he mean, Jinwoo?”

Jinwoo knew better than to offend someone who was exhausted and pregnant. This man however, was too honest. A fucking idiot.

“The Chairman meant that you look…” His voice trailed off, stepping back from Jinwoo’s narrowed eyes.

“He meant… nothing by it.” 

“O-Of course! I meant nothing by it- she- you look healthy and glowing!”

“Good man.” 

You sighed heavily, rubbing your stomach before cursing something under your breath. Then, you walked right out of the room in a stomp, leaving the weak little man in Jinwoo’s company.

And that compulsion came back.

Jinwoo grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and clenched his fist tight around the material. “Think before you speak. If you speak out of turn and upset her again, you’re going to wish you died in that explosion.”

“Y-Yes, Mr Sung- I won’t say anything at all, I promise!”

Jinwoo dropped him on the floor and left the room to follow you, skipping a step of the stairs up towards the apartment. Igris was nearby, hovering around up there as near to you as your aura would allow. By the time Jinwoo arrived, he noted how your energy still hadn’t changed, he could sense it from the front door all the way to the en-suite bathroom.

You were really emotional.

Jinwoo called your name softly, hoping it might change your mindset or do literally anything else besides upset you further.

It didn’t. Well, you didn’t respond.

He called out to you again and waited, edging closer to the bathroom until the sound of your stifled sobbing permeated the bathroom door through the crack.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” The pet name slipped out.

You didn’t react to it. “I’m exhausted!”

Little black streaks dribbled down your cheeks from the waterlogged mascara, eyes swollen and puffy, nose all pink and adorably blushed. Jinwoo rubbed the marks away from your cheeks the best he could, moving the slick strands of hair from your damp face.

“You could have fooled me.” He said. “I happen to think you look beautiful.”

“No. You’re just saying that. I look horrible and bloated and I’m a big mess!” The flood gates opened and you couldn’t stop crying.

Jinwoo wanted to say something had the babies aura not spiked, it stopped him in his steps. Like they were reacting to you, but it could have been an array of reasons, maybe they were moving about or kicking and you couldn't feel it? Despite that, he monitored it with each passing moment, but never said anything to you.

I guess I’ll be dealing with this a lot for the next seven months. 

“You don’t look bloated, or horrible. But I think it has been a long day, and I think we should leave seeing my mom and go lay down. I can get you whatever you want, or everything for you,” Jinwoo took it a step further and ran his hand over your baby bump. “And whatever these two need, you’re going to have cravings soon, right?”

“I am…” It didn’t stop you crying, but took your mind off things. “I’m getting cravings already- I just wasn’t sure what-“

“Shh, shh…” You let him embrace you, stroke your hair lovingly to soothe you. “We can trial it. See what you like and don’t like, then I’ll buy one hundred of it, okay?”

“Okay…” Sniffling into his shirt, you clung to it. “Okay… that sounds good.”

Just like that, you were starting to rely on him. Jinwoo wanted to give you the entire world, to you and the babies.

All he wanted from you was that love in return, eventually. The rest of the world could leave for the day, including the chairman and whatever intentions he had.

Jinwoo could sort it later. You and his babies were the top priority.

Part 10 <- Part 11 -> Part 12

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks so much for all the support on this likes, reblog and comments appreciated! ❤️

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@dragoonsuki @sashagaming1012 

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[bennetsbonnet]

I'm currently reading Eavesdropping on Jane Austen's England: How Our Ancestors Lived Two Centuries Ago by historians Roy and Lesley Adkins and it's a very well researched and informative book, which I highly recommend if you already know a lot about Jane Austen's life and works, but want to understand the context of her novels and how society functioned at the time.

I have to share this passage from the chapter about childbirth, which details a naval officer's response to learning that his wife had given birth while he was away at sea... because it made me think of a certain Austen couple:

It was not unusual for fathers to be absent from home when their children were born, and it took some time for the news to reach William Wilkinson, at sea in the navy, that he was a father. Finally he held the letter that his sister-in-law Fanny Platt had excitedly written from their lodgings at Kensington in London, a few hours after his daughter's birth. 'Heartily do I wish you were now here,' she said, that we might congratulate with each other on the happy arrival of your little daughter. It was born at 17 minutes past 9 o'clock this 9th day of Nov [1807].' Fanny next gave William an affectionate description: 'the precious Babe, [she] is, I think, the loveliest little creature I ever saw. [Her] eyes are dark and beautifully bright, [her] nose and chin we all agree in our opinion as to their being exactly like your own. [She] has a pretty little head with a good bit of hair, which is very dark. [She] is in good health and so plump you cannot think.' William was extremely happy, and early the next year he wrote to his wife: 'in my Prayer Book (which I keep in my desk) I have your hair, Baby's and a piece of my own. I cut mine off the other day to see the contrast. They are all in a small piece of fine India paper... and they do look very pretty, yours light, mine dark, and Baby's between both.'

After reading this, now I can't stop thinking about Captain Wentworth cutting off a piece of his hair and placing it next to a lock of Anne's hair (that he brought to sea with him so she'd be with him in some way) and a piece of their newborn baby daughter's hair!

It hurts to imagine them separated for such an important moment but if duty called and Wentworth was forced to go away, this is exactly how I imagine he would deal with the separation.

[bia-wayne-west]

Milk with cookies and bedtime stories [Batmom x Damian Wayne]

Synopsis: It was just a few months ago that Damian was included in the Wayne family. He still didn’t like you, but you tried so hard to make him appreciate you. During a patrol, Damian got hurt and after Alfred took care of the little boy’s wounds, you surprised him with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

Characters: Damian Wayne and Reader [YOU]

A/N: I wrote this quickly. Hope you like. In this imagine, Batmom has been married to Bruce since he adopted Dick.

I want to apologize if there are any writing errors. I'm a Brazilian girl and I don't speak fluent English, so I may make some writing mistakes. Feel free to correct me.

I hope you read, like and feel how cute Damian is.

Requests are open

MASTERLIST

You were sitting on the kitchen stool, reading a fashion magazine while you waited for your husband to return from patrol.

Bruce forbade you to stay in the Batcave, as he was afraid that someone would break in and find you, alone and unprotected.

As soon as you felt the ground shake, it meant that the Batcave had opened and that Batman had arrived with his Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood and Nightwing.

You ran to the clock that gave access to the secret entrance to Batcave. The elevator quickly took you to where your children and husband were.

“Hey, my love. You got back before 5am!” You said, running up to Bruce Wayne. He still wore black clothes and was without a mask. Your husband didn’t respond. He was serious and had a worried expression on his face.

“A man dropped Damian from a three-story building .” Bruce said looking at the boy who was sitting next to Alfred.

You finally noticed Damian, whose face was bruised and his leg was bandaged. You walked over to the boy and knelt in front of him.

“I’m fine, Y/N. I fell on top of a car and didn’t break any bones.”

“Damian, darling, are you hurt?” You asked, looking into Bruce’s son’s green eyes.

You smiled, in a motherly way. Damian didn’t consider you a mother, unlike the other three boys who called you ‘mother’ and ‘mommy’ all the time. Your husband’s son only considered you as a stepmother, but that didn’t stop you from taking care of him as if he were your son.

“I’m going to run you a hot bubble bath. After Alfred takes care of you, I think you’ll want to relax in the warm water.”

“Thank you, Y/N, but I’m not your baby.” He said rolling his eyes and turning his face to look at Alfred.

“Damian!” Bruce warned his son. But you smiled at your husband, showing that everything was okay. You left the Batcave, heading back to the mansion to prepare Dami’s bath.

(…)

Damian was already in his room. You were heading to the boy's room, with a tray in your hand.

The clock said 2:32 am, but you were sure the boy hadn't slept yet. The Waynes used to sleep only when the sun came up.

Yout left hand knocked lightly on the wooden door with the boy's initials engraved on it. Ypur ears picked up a “you can come in”, authorizing you to enter Damian’s room.

“I came to see if you were okay, Dami.” You said, entering and closing the door behind your body. Your arms came off the tray on the bed, seeing that the boy was sitting on the mattress. “I brought milk and cookies, this will definitely make you feel better.”

“Why do you do these things, Y/N?” He asked, with a questioning look.

“I didn't understand. Don't you like what I do for you?”

“At first I thought you had a plan to win me over and then you would hate me for being Bruce's biological son.” He said, seeing you take a cookie and offer it to him.

“I would never do that. I love you, Dami, even if you don't like me. These things I do for you are normal motherly actions.”

“My mother didn’t do any of that. She only got cookies when she did something good.” He said, his eyes shining like he was going to cry.

“Oh baby. I know you don't consider me your mother and I don't want to force you into anything, but I want you to know that these things I do are because I love you.” You explained, smiling widely at him and drinking some milk. “Do you know what my mother did for me when I was hurt?”

“No.” He said, while devouring several cookies. “She also gave you cookies and milk?”

“Yes, and she also told me a bedtime story.” You argued, running your hand through the boy's hair. “I'll tell you a story.”

“I’m not four years old, Y/N” He murmured.

“Damian, you’re not old enough to hear a good story before bed.”

“OK. Just don't tell stories about princesses or ponies.”

“Clear. I'm going to tell the story of a boy called Dami. He was so brave and beautiful, he was a strong and fearless boy.” His lips formed a smile as he said the words. Damian's eyes were bright and sweet. “One day, he went to the forest to play with the birds and found a portal to a magical world.”

“Like Narnia?: He asked, completely interested in your story.

“Yes, but without the closet. The magical portal led to a kingdom full of witches, fairies, vampires and any magical creature you can imagine.”

“Even elves?” He questioned you again. Now Damian was lying in bed and you covered him with the blanket.

“Of course, elves can't be missed.” You said. Your heart filled with love and you almost cried when you saw the image of the boy who hated you six months ago totally interested in a bedtime story. “In that kingdom there was a crystal that served as oxygen for all beings there, but a terrible villain broke this crystal and stole its essence, leaving the world without magic.” Damian still had complete fun with your narration. “Then, the queen called Martha went and asked the brave Dami to hunt down the villain and recover the essence of the crystal.”

“And he did this?”

“Yes! Dami took a sword and shield and went out to the magical kingdom in search of the villain. He went to an ancient village in the kingdom called Gothym and met three knights named Grayson, Todd and Drake. They sent Dami to the mountains where he would find the villain.”

“And he found it?”

“He found it, but it was difficult. The villain was hiding in a ruined castle north of Gothym. Dami fought bravely with the villain and defeated him. Dami recovered the essentials of the crystal and in exchange, Queen Martha gave him a personal portal to return to the kingdom as often as he wanted. Dami was a brave hero and defeated the evil villain.” You told the story while running your hand affectionately through the boy's hair. “Did you like the story?”

“Yes, it was the best story anyone told me.”

“I'm glad you liked it, my love. If you want, I can tell you a story every night.”

“Todd would make fun of me if he knew.” He said, looking at you so intently that you knew he was embarrassed for having liked the story.

“I'm gonna tell you a secret. I told Dick, Jason and Tim stories for three years, but they didn't want to.”

“Did you tell Todd bedtime stories?” He asked loudly, as if it were some blasphemy.

“Of course, and he loved them all.”

“So I want to hear stories before bed.”

“I'll love telling you, along with a glass of milk and cookies. Good evening, Dami.” You said getting up from the bed. Your lips found the boy's forehead.

“Good night, mom.” He said, making you look surprised at him. “I can call you mom? Since Dick, Jason, and Tim call you Mom, I thought you might as well.”

“Of course, my dear. You can call me mother and I will call you my son.” Your arms wrapped around the body of the boy, your son. Love seemed to explode in your heart. “Good evening, my dear son.”

“Good nigh, mom.”

You gave Damian one last kiss on his forehead, before picking up the tray and taking it to the kitchen. After washing the dishes, you went to the master suite, the room shared between you and Bruce.

Your husband was lying on the king size bed, waiting for you. After showering and putting on your pajama, you laid down on the bed.

“Damian called me mom.” You said to Bruce, earning a smile from him.

“With bedtime stories, milk and cookies.”

“How did this happen?” He asked, setting aside the iPad he was using to hug you.

[nymphea0]

Kurkans Mate .

Mine and yours.

Yan! Ishakan x reader

(Special Chapter)

Warning : Mature content! Before you read this, make sure you are old enough, children and minors are prohibited from reading this story chapter.

Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Word count : 2.86 word

Hello, this is Neva, at your service. So glad all Ishakan series are complete. This is a special chapter that I updated especially for Tumblr readers who may not have WP. Because I'm sure some of my dears may not have WP. So, this is a special chapter for Ishakan series. Next project wss supernatural series. A monsters, i hope you all will like it this project as well:)

I added some POV characters here, which I didn't write in the WP special chapter. So, enjoy, my dears, lots of love- Neva🦋🦋 .

Might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

Kurkans Mate Pt. 1

Kurkans Mate Pt. 2

Kurkans Mate Pt. 3

Kurkans Mate Pt. 4

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Ishakan stared at you full of love and lust, but he had to restrain himself!.

Leading you slowly towards the sofa that had a small table, gently pouring a typical Kurkans drink, 1 glass. Ishakan drank it first, then he gave it to you, he could feel you were hesitant to drink it! .

Ohh how cute his wife is! So innocent and gentle! Never even drank wine!.

You spent that night talking to Ishakan, to understand each other, to be open to each other because you are husband and wife now.

Ishakan even apologized to you, he didn't mean to kidnap or hurt Esmera, but his beast instinct said otherwise, Ishakan had even renovated Esmera's hut, even Esmera came to the wedding!.

Even though you didn't meet, Esmera did come to see in the form of an owl, happy at least you were safe in the hands of the Kurkans, Esmera had been watching from afar, anticipating that if the Kurkans treated you badly, then she would take you back by force.

It turns out that Ishakan is not as bad as you thought, he is an understanding man, he doesn't care whether you can get pregnant or not, because Ishakan brought you into his life to love you and spend his life until old age waiting as his partner, his wife.

With a position facing each other you are currently on the balcony.

Ishakan looks at you lovingly, the moon is full in the sky, his heart is beating fast.

Ishakan cups your cheeks with his hands, stroking them gently with his thumbs.

"You are my world, I will never be afraid of losing or fear, as long as you are by my side and live together by my side until the end of my life, my Mate, I love you"

Tilted his head slowly, Ishakan kissed you, crushed it gently, carefully, the sound of your kisses filled the bedroom balcony.

Ishakan's hand easily pulled you to his side closer, deepening your kiss, eroding the distance between you, one of his hands was around your nape, his lips and tongue were busy tasting your lips and tongue, taking notes of every content of your mouth.

His other hand was on your waist, stroking and squeezing softly making you moan softly, only making him more aroused.

With one movement of his hand, Ishakan lifted and carried you into the room without breaking the kiss between the two of you.

Dropping you gently, Ishakan saw you under him, panting, face red and out of breath, lips swollen from his kiss.

Opening his wedding dress, showing his chest and body that were perfect for a king.

Ishakan kissed you again, biting your lower lip softly, making you moan softly, his tongue dancing and claiming yours.

His hands did not stay still, placing both of your hands above your head held with one of his left hands, his right hand, moving to stroke from your cheeks, neck, collarbone, the center line between your chest.

Teasingly stroking the line of your stomach that made you moan softly. smirking softly, knowing that you were sensitive all over your body, his hands went down to the lower part of your body.

Pulling up your red dress slowly, showing your legs and thighs, pulling them straight with his hands, kissing your ankles softly.

Lowering himself from the ankles to along the knees, biting your thighs, your knees leaning on his shoulders, leaving bite marks on your soft thighs, Ishakan got closer, until he was right in front of your core, wet and full of the scent of passion!

He had to hold himself back, it wasn't time for him to be brutal, not yet.

Pulling with his two fingers, Ishakan sensually opened your panties, showing your core completely without any clothes on there.

You who are embarrassed try to cover it! But unfortunately Ishakan holds both your hands.

Spreading your legs, your face turns red with embarrassment.

Looking at you, Ishakan just smirks and breathes into your core, which makes you sigh stifled.

Sticking out his tongue, Ishakan tastes your core, which makes you sigh unable to hold back anymore, you are very sensitive just from his kiss before, you have never felt anything like this!

Ishakan's tongue moves skillfully, from the middle to the core of your clit, sucking, licking, feeling, even widening your core.

You can't think clearly just your tongue but it has made you lose your mind.

Your hand that Ishakan has released, is around his hair, sighing, gasping for breath, Ishakan's other hand also doesn't stay still, his hand is busy scooping, squeezing, playing with your right chest, tearing with just one pull of your top dress.

Making you naked showing your chest, his hands are busy twisting and squeezing.

Your moans are getting louder indicating that you will come soon.

When you are about to come, Ishakan replaces it with his finger, making you increasingly losing his mind and moaning more and more.

"Take it out honey, come on, you can, smear my finger with your essence loves, come on my rabbit~"

Pulling and inserting his finger quickly, you come for the first time in your life!

Moaning almost screaming, eyes unable to open wide, biting your lower lip slowly.

For Ishakan this sight is very beautiful, very sexy and exciting, only him, only Ishakan can make you like this.

Growling primally, Ishakan forcibly pulls your lower dress, making you naked, so exposed to his eyes.

Ishakan then brings his finger filled with your love fluid to his mouth, sucking and tasting it.

You who stare at it can only be embarrassed, he looks at you with full primal!.

Your legs are spread wide, Ishakan opens his pants.

He's big, very big! Does it even fit?!.

"Isha... it doesn't seem to fit... this is my first time"

Ishakan just laughed in amusement seeing your worried expression, kissing your lips softly, Ishakan distracted your thoughts.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be okay"

His kiss went down to your neck, sucking and biting it on the right and left, leaving love bite marks on your neck.

His kiss went down to your shoulder, biting gently then to your collarbone, then to your chest, kissing gently, then putting your nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily, his other hand didn't stay still, giving the same attention to your chest that he sucked, his fingers twisting, pulling and squeezing your chest.

Moaning was the only thing you could do because of Ishakan's actions on your body.

Ishakan's hand then went down to spread your legs, with a gentle push, inserting himself, uniting with you.

You who were doing it for the first time, of course screamed in pain considering Ishakan who was also very big. Ishakan kissed your lips and neck, to ease your pain. It worked.

Slowly, the sound in the room that the two of you would use in the future, was filled with the sound of love, passion, and lust. The sound of skin slapping was very clear, Ishakan's sighs, and growls blended with the atmosphere full of the first night.

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.

You're not sure how many hours or maybe days it's been? You can only be busy moaning, groaning and following Ishakan's direction.

While Ishakan? That man, your husband is busy moaning in your ear, moaning vulgarly and shamelessly in your ear.

His hands are busy playing with your breasts and hips, while his own hips? Busy moving back and forth, the point is entering your core.

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Those 5 days, you were slaughtered by Ishakan, unable to hold back anymore, on the 5th day, you fell unconscious, while Ishakan? That man just chuckled and cleaned your body.

It's just a matter of time for Ishakan, he will soon become a father, and so will you, become a mother.

Blood union Between the Antrabeth and Kurkans tribes, two tribes that are above the other races.

This is not a dark or light story, but this story is about how Ishakan, can convince his mate, even by kidnapping which for some people is an abnormality, but this is the Kurkans we are talking about, normality never exists in that tribe.

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'The sound of a closed book'

In the garden a woman with blue hair, sits in a pavilion scattered with small fish ponds, with a pavilion podium studded with gold and high-quality wood, beautiful fabrics fall from each ceiling of the pavilion, creating a beautiful illusion, covering the outside view to see into the pavilion.

A small boy sits on the woman's lap, while a tall man is next to the woman holding a girl.

The woman had just read a story about "History Of Kurkans Mate"

"So how's the history? Are you not curious anymore again?"

The woman asked the two children who were of different genders, but with similar proportions, twins, the two children had the same blue hair as the woman, while their skin followed the color of the man sitting beside the woman.

The two twins just smiled and nodded before standing up and running to play with each other in the garden field right in front of the pavilion.

The man, put one arm around the woman's waist.

"The twins are big now, I think it's time we gave them a sibling, how about that my rabbit?"

Kissing the woman's cheek affectionately, while the Eve just blushed!.

"Ishakan?! Twins are only 7 years old! Not yet! I refuse!"

You've been together for more than 7 years, and the woman is you, you slap Ishakan's arm lightly, your husband.

"Oh my dear, it seems you have forgotten that, the Kurkans have never known the concept of refusing, the word no, refusal or disagreement"

Ishakan stood with you in his arms actually, bridal style! Those of you who are embarrassed, only can just cover your faces with your hands, you feel very embarrassed because the Servants and Sholdier/Knight are looking at you.

In the Kurkans palace, a desert surrounded by a large oasis, the Kurkans Kingdom thrived under the leadership of King Ishakan Kurkans, the best king in the history of Kurkans, with his mate who was also the best in history, there was no slavery, discrimination, racism or rebellion. There is only peace, happiness from one end of the kingdom to the other end of the kingdom of Kurkans.

For people who have visited Ishakan Kingdom, there are only a few things that those who have been there will say.

"It feels like the kingdom is like a myth"

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.

On the other side of the desert continent of the Kurkans, there are several kingdoms that are also developing rapidly, one of which is the Estia kingdom.

Led directly by Queen Leah de Estia, a beautiful woman with a face like the moon. Anyone would fall in love seeing her so beautiful, perfect, almost like an angel falling from the sky.

One of the people who fell in love with her was none other than Leah's half brother. Bléon de Estia.

The man was crazy, of course , a sick and very twisted obsession. After the ambush and capture of the queen of Estia, Serdine.

Leah saw with her own eyes how Ishakan and some of the Estia courtiers burned Serdine. While Bléon, the man looked at Ishakan with envy. Nothing more and nothing less, thinking that Ishakan will take Leah from her.

Crazy about it, Bleon said to Ishakan.

"I have defiled the woman you are going to take, take her! Take the used goods that I have touched and play with them as you please, you savage monster!"

Right after the sentence was uttered, a head flew right in front of leah's eyes. Bléon's floating head flew and fell rolling and stopped right in front of her feet.

That night, Leah would never forget how Ishakan had saved her. And also the kingdom of Estia.

Leah sent a proposal, hoping that the kingdom of Estia and the Kurkans could become one.

But unfortunately, the proposal was rejected. Because it turned out that the king of the Kurkans himself already had someone to be proposed to.

On the wedding day of the king of the kurkans, where leah came as one of the honored guests, that's where she found out why ishakan rejected her proposal.

Herself as a woman if given the opportunity as a man, she might do the same thing as ishakan did. Kidnap that woman. For Leah, just by looking at her once she knew very well, the woman who was right in front of Ishakan, had made Ishakan, the barbarian kurkans, kneel. Very beautiful, small and fragile. Of course, Leah who did not have any special lines in her blood, more than knowing not to go any further to be with ishakan.

A woman from the Atrabeth tribe, the lover of nature. Of course leah knows for sure.

The two tribal myths are united in a soul bond.

For Leah, the story of Ishakan and the woman, the lover of nature from the Antrabeth tribe, felt very unreal.

As if they were just a myth.

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The End.

©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Series.

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa @merveeeeesworld

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

[freakcliff]

iwtv universe dashboard simulator

girlmand reblogged

😶‍🌫️gaysexinthecity Follow

not saying vampires are real but i think Daniel Molloy gets way too much shit . like if i was a pulitzer prize winning journalist in my seventies and some guy called me and was like im a vampire want an interview i wouldn't hesitate either. fuck man sure tell me about being a vampire. i'll believe you

🎆 magical-swiftie

reading Interview with the Vampire rn and Claudia and Madeline are sooo Long Face core

#now that i think of it a lot of tvl's songs fit this book really well #like #'she gave me life I gave her death'??? # that's so them!!!

🏞️ girlblogg1ng

btw if you're still listening to the vampire lestat, unfollow me now. and like, seriously consider why you're giving plays to a guy who appropriates ancient egyptian history for his vampire schtick, it's honestly sickening

#the vampire lestat #tvl #maintagging because people need to see this honestly #.txt

🌄sampire

keep seeing ppl try to cancel tvl for things hes said to his fans or how he talks about ancient egyptian mythology and not that song where he talks about fucking his mother. like im not crazy right he wrote a whole song about how he fucked his mother

💟 stingorarr

"we are your children/but what do you give us/is your silence/a better gift than the truth?" sounds like it should be some ancient Greek poetry but it's literally in a song by the vampire lestat!!!

it just hits so hard... like your parents gave you nothing but maybe the truth would be more unbearable than silence...

#tvl #the vampire lestat #twmbk #those who must be kept

sampire reblogged danielmxllxy

🌫️ beatlesrpf Follow

please tell me you guys arent serious about the vampire lestat. please tell me youre not stanning a man who wrote "im an actor in my makeup, i get fatter when we break up"

#guys please #this is worse than the tortured poets department

🤖 carrieblogging Follow

Based on your likes!

Hey, Tumblr, I need a little help here?

So, my best friend has been acting a little weird lately. Like, his sleep schedule has gotten really strange (stranger than normal 😅), and I haven't seen him without sunglasses on in a week?

His diet has changed, too, like he used to always be snacking whenever I'd call him, but now he doesn't eat anything that I can see.

He even cancelled our tickets to ComicCon!! I've been waiting to meet up with him for years, and now he's just bailed on me?!? I'm mad, but honestly more worried than anything....

#carrie speaks

🌌 marbellina124

guys I think I've found the vampire Armand at the MET 😏😂

#it doesn't match the dates from the book so like #yeah #but imagine.... #parisian mutuals you have a power that can be used

interview-with-the-glampire reblogged wormyworms

🪱 wormyworms Follow

mmm tbh the only reason i *don't* believe vampires are real is because if *i* was interviewing two vampires to write a book about their life? i would not be leaving that house without their fangs in my neck and eternal life. just saying

🌇 interview-with-the-glampire

understandable but have you considered. if I went to interview two vampires and got immortality and vampire sex out of that deal I wouldn't go around letting everyone know :/

danielmxllxy reblogged sampire

🌌 marbellina124

so were all in agreement he fucked that vampire right

#oh I think he fucked AT LEAST two of those vampires #iwtv #rb

[vixstarria]

Seeing stars

Welp, I wrote more porn.

Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader

18+, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, jealous Astarion, soft dom Astarion, dirty talk, fingering, PIV, elf ears and more! Humour, banter and fluff mixed in per usual. Tav failing several insight checks in the process.

I also poke fun at the in-game romance mechanics, and Wyll's Act 2 scene in particular.

This is the last time they have sex before the "I want us to be something real" conversation.

Approx. 2,900 words

AO3

“You won’t believe the ludicrous encounter I just had with Wyll.” 

You burst into Astarion’s tent. Well, it was ‘Astarion’s’ tent only notionally at this point. Yours still stood, but it now served solely as storage space for your assorted junk. You had effectively moved in with Astarion, having first coerced him into replacing the wooden plank and bloodstained rags he slept on with some sensible rugs and blankets. 

Astarion lounged half-naked on one of the bedrolls, reading something by candlelight. 

“Oh?” he looked up at you. “Do tell.” 

“First the massage you promised earlier,” you said sinking down onto the floor of the tent and stripping off most of your clothes. “My back is killing me after carrying everyone all day.” 

“Oh please...” he rolled his eyes. “I recall you nearly walked into your own cloud of daggers, again, and would have if I hadn’t pulled you away in time. And then you blasted Lae’zel off a cliff. It’s a wonder we haven’t kicked you out yet.” He shook his head. “And if you’re carrying anyone, I’m the one carrying you.” 

Still, he sat up as you laid down on your stomach.  

“Who do you think you’re fooling with this modesty, darling?” he murmured, noticing that you’d kept your underwear on. “Just lose it now,” he added, as he slid it off, leaving you completely naked, before he settled over you, his fingers commencing work on your shoulders. “So what happened with Wyll?” 

“I was making my way back here, and found him... performing some kind of jig by the campfire, pretending like he didn’t know I was there.” 

“The ‘Blade of Frontiers’, dancing alone in the middle of camp?” Astarion snickered. “Did you mock him? Please tell me you mocked him.”  

“Well... I was going to, but then he asked me to dance with him, very earnestly.” 

“That scoundrel...” he mused. “And let me guess - you agreed, didn’t you?” 

“Oh trust me, at that point it would have been more awkward not to dance with him, I had to play along.” 

Astarion scoffed, with a chuckle. 

“Do you always go along with whatever people want from you just because it would be too awkward to say no?” 

"I try not to – last time I did, I ended up with a vampire who won’t stop sucking me dry,” you deflected. “I figured there was no harm in indulging him. Besides, I don’t see you dancing with me. It was kind of nice,” you teased. 

“I hate dancing,” he said. 

“Right,” you said. “I’m sure you hate dancing just as much as you hate poetry, flowers, art, cats... What else?” 

“Children,” he answered. “I also can’t stand children.” 

“No, that one I could see being true,” you grinned. 

“So anyway, you two dolts pranced around the fire to the sound of crickets, then what?” 

“And then he tried to kiss me,” you admitted, with a sigh. 

Astarion’s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work, slightly harder than before. 

“Well look at you, receiving the Duke Ravengard’s heir’s attention. Moving up in the world, hmm?” 

“I didn’t let him.” 

He laughed. 

“Is there even a single person left in camp that hasn’t tried to get into your pants, darling?” 

You had to think for a moment.  

“Are we counting Volo?” 

“Sure.” 

“Then just Karlach and Withers.” 

“Gods, I fucking love Karlach,” he murmured. “Don’t tell her I said that.” 

“Why? Getting jealous all of a sudden?” 

Astarion was silent for a few moments. 

“I just don’t understand it,” he said. “You’re with me every night. I’m at your side every day. They see us. They hear us. Still, they don’t take me – or you and me – seriously. Tell me, is there something about me that screams: ‘Please, go ahead and take my lover for yourself. Come on in and snatch her right out from under me, I don’t mind’?”  

Perhaps you’d made a bad judgment call when you thought Astarion would find the absurdity of the situation humorous rather than offensive. Still, you had to bite your cheek to keep from laughing at the dramatics he added to the delivery of the last few lines that left his mouth. 

“Stop laughing,” he said.  

“I’m not laughing,” you laughed.  

“I can feel your back muscles twitching in your efforts.” 

“Well, they’re aware this all started as a joke. Perhaps they never realised that it’s long stopped being one?” you offered. 

Astarion’s hands had been moving lower and lower along your back. They had now reached your ass and continued to rub, stroke and squeeze, as you let out a soft groan. 

“That’s not my back, Astarion.” 

One of his hands kept squeezing an ass cheek, while the other dipped to stroke you between your legs. He gave a satisfied hum when two of his fingers entered you effortlessly. 

“Maybe if they could see how wet I can make you just by rubbing your back they’d reconsider how much of a joke this is,” he said, his voice low. He continued to pump his fingers in and out – you were almost embarrassed by the loud squelching sounds that came out of you. You moaned and tried to lift your hips higher, but your legs were encased between his thighs, pinned down on the bedroll. “Do you think you’d be reacting this way to young Ravengard, darling?” 

“Stop it,” you hissed. “You know I don’t want anyone but you.” 

“Stop?” he pulled his fingers out, to your dissatisfied whine. You looked back to see him studying your slick on his fingers. “I should go smear this on his face right now... The audacity to try to get his hands on what is not his.” He licked his fingers clean instead. He turned his attention back to you.  

“Maybe if you were more vocal about your devotion to me the others wouldn’t make these mistakes.” 

His hand returned between your legs, spreading your wetness and slipping lower to tease your clit.  

“I could be... encouraged... to be more vocal about it,” you breathed, trying to grind against his hand.  

“Yes... I should make you scream my name, so they all know who you belong to.” 

His fingers returned inside you, teasing you with shallow strokes.  

“You can try,” you taunted him. 

Astarion let out an indignant huff and shifted to spread your legs open with his knees, simultaneously placing a hand on your back to firmly hold you down. You expect to feel his cock enter you, but he continued to stroke you with his fingers, turning his hand to curl them downwards.  

“Is that a challenge, darling?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “You should know better by now than to bet against me,” he said, continuing to flex his fingers inside you. 

It started off pleasant enough, but rapidly grew into... more. And more. You weren’t sure what he was doing but whatever it was, it was just about making you see stars. 

You sputtered as the new sensation started to take hold of your whole being.  

“Ast… what..”  

You couldn't manage anything coherent, as his fingers continued to dig into you, gradually picking up speed and pressure. You started to squirm to try to get away despite yourself, but he simply put more weight against the hand on your back, securely pinning you to the bedroll. 

“Always getting yourself into situations you're not prepared for…" he murmured. "You're not talking your way out of this one.”

His fingers were relentless. You were worried you really would scream and wake everyone in camp. All you could do was bite down on the pillow, hoping that it would muffle your drawn-out moans. 

“Let go, darling... I know you want to.” 

It's not so much that you let go – rather, all your decorum was ripped from you, as your muscles convulsed, the orgasm rolling through your entire body. You panted and shuddered, trying to keep quiet, your hands clutching desperately at the covers beneath you, trying to hold on to anything like your life depended on it. 

Once the feeling subsided, you came back to your senses to find Astarion hovering over you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders, grazing them with his fangs, almost but not quite hard enough to draw blood. You felt his erection rubbing against your hip. 

“Has anyone fucked you like this before?” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breath ragged from his own arousal. “Tell me.” 

“No,” you gasped, trying to catch your own breath.  

“I thought so,” he whispered with a smile, kissing your neck before he sat back up. 

You turned back to look at him over your shoulder. He watched you with a self-satisfied grin, his fingers returning to stroke you lightly between your legs once more. 

“Do you want me to do it again?” he purred. 

A part of you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face after what he just put you through. Another, much larger part, wanted nothing more than to submit yourself to whatever he would do to you.  

“Yes,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“Turn around...” he narrowed his eyes mischievously. “I want to see your face this time.” 

You flipped around onto your back, under his watchful gaze. His eyes never left yours as he stroked your slit, teasing your engorged clit with his thumb, before his fingers slipped back inside you. 

You found yourself mewling in anticipation before he really even started doing anything.  

“So eager,” he smirked. “So wanton...” 

He curled his fingers again, moving his whole hand to mercilessly claw into a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed inside you.  

You tried to relax into and accept this sensation, now that you were familiar with it. A growing pressure kept building at the bottom of your stomach. It was too much. It was entirely too much. You couldn’t take more of it. You couldn’t- 

“Let go, I’ve got you...” His whisper sounded so tender in sharp contrast to the depraved way he was handling your body. 

You sobbed as what you hoped was cum gushed out of you, your legs quivering.  

“Good girl”, Astarion laughed with glee, bending down to place a kiss on your lips, continuing to stroke you lightly, “Your body reacts so perfectly to me... Do you want more?” 

“You... I want you...” you groaned, biting his lip. 

“If that’s what my good girl wants,” he purred, discarding what was left of his clothes.  

You groaned as his cock entered you, rocking your hips against his, trying to find that feeling again. 

“So wet and needy for me...��� he goaded you. “I’ve completely ruined you for anyone else, haven’t I?” 

He held absolutely nothing back as he fucked you, lewd insistent sounds of skin slapping on skin combined with your shared grunts and moans disturbing what was likely otherwise a silent night. 

“Anyone awake knows exactly what I’m doing to you right now,” he rasped, voice thick.  

Your walls clenched at the thought, making him shudder and sigh as well. 

“You like that thought, don’t you..? I know you do,” he continued. “So shameless...” 

Despite yourself, you whimpered, clenching again as another orgasm started threatening to overtake you. 

“That’s it... Come for me again,” he groaned. “Come for me, my love.” 

‘My love’..? Just a figure of speech, you thought. You’d thrown that phrase around, jokingly, but it’s never sounded so... raw. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to keep hearing it.  

“Your what?” you gasped.  

He didn’t answer. Instead he caught your lips in a deep, devouring kiss, pinning your arms over your head.  

Your body gave in and you trembled under him, caught up in waves of pleasure again.  

He released your arms and eased his movements once you rode out your high, but kept kissing you, hungrily, unwilling to release your lips from his.  

Clearly, no further words of love would follow, you thought to yourself with a tinge of both relief and disappointment, deciding to let it go. 

“You’re so good to me,” you managed, breaking your lips from his. 

“Aren’t I just?” he groaned, speeding up again to chase his own release.  

You kissed your way up his jaw to his ear, pausing to nibble on his earlobe.  

You couldn’t see it, but a ditsy, open-mouthed smile started to play on his face. 

Astarion gasped with a sharp intake of breath as you continued further, running your tongue over the inside of the shell of his ear. 

“Oh sweet hells,” he sighed with pleasure, immediately grinding into your harder. 

You smiled as he tilted his head, just about pressing his ear against your lips. 

“Do you like that?” you whispered in his ear, running your tongue over it again, lifting your hands to run your fingers through his hair. You knew he did. You just wanted to hear him say it.  

“Yes... Don’t stop...” His words sounded like a desperate plea. 

You continued to gently nibble on the edge of his ear, soft moans escaping you from his movements. 

“That’s it, take what’s yours” you groaned, as his hips crashed into yours harder. 

His breathing and movements were becoming more and more frantic.  

“Astarion...” you whispered, grazing the shell of his ear with your lips. 

He let out an uncharacteristic whimper, all his usual composure slipping from him, as he bucked his hips, fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts.  

“My sweet...” you breathed against his ear. 

He came completely undone, spilling into you with forceful, jagged thrusts, before finally stilling. His whole body seemed to melt into yours as he stayed on top of you, trying to regain his breath. 

You wrapped your legs around his hips, not wanting to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to lift himself from you either. Instead he trailed light, tender kisses from your neck up to your lips.  

You delicately traced the contours of Astarion’s face with your fingertips, running them from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as he leaned into your caress, gazing into your eyes.  

Astarion parted his lips slightly, as though to say something, only to seal them again. He tilted his head to kiss your knuckles as your fingers gradually made their way back up, to run through his hair. Eventually he spoke. 

“You would really choose me over the more... blatantly obvious options you have at your disposal here?” he asked quietly.  

“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear already..?” 

“Well of course you have – no one else is this good,” he said with a tired smirk. 

“I’m not talking about the...” you blinked. “You know I’m not with you just for the sex, right..?” you frowned, looking into his eyes. 

He looked away, slipping out of you and moving to lie down next to you.  

“Is that so?” he said softly.  

You found yourself suddenly feeling rattled. Was he simply fishing for compliments again, or had you been utterly oblivious to just how deep his insecurities ran this whole time..? 

“You have a wealth of other qualities that I... enjoy and appreciate,” you said, somewhat lamely.  

Astarion propped his head up on his hand and raised an eyebrow at you quizzically. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes despite his outward nonchalance.  

Oh for fuck’s sake, you thought. I’m not ready for any serious conversations now, especially not with cum running down my thighs.  

You turned away to grab something to wipe yourself down with. 

“A gentleman would clean up his own mess, by the way. Not one of your strong points. But you do have some virtues that make up for it. For instance... I can leave cheese unattended around you, knowing you won’t eat it.” 

Astarion went to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing.  

“You’re a treasure trove of useless information,” you continued. “But unlike some of our companions you usually keep it to yourself.” A hint of a smile played on his lips at that.  

“Your hand feels nice and cold on my forehead when I have a headache.” You laid back down next to him, mirroring the way he was lying. 

“You always smell nice, especially for a dead guy. You never hog the mirror.”   

“What about my hair, won’t you mention that?” he smiled. 

“No, fuck your hair, it makes mine look awful in comparison.”  

He chuckled at that. 

“I do rather adore the garnet puppy eyes though,” you murmured. “What else... You make me laugh, and, more importantly, I make you laugh – which is great for my ego,” you continued.  

“As long as you understand that I’m usually laughing at you,” he countered. 

“Prick... Then there’s the fact you’ve saved my life four times.”  

“Seven,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes.  

“Five.”  

“It’s seven, dear, I counted.” 

“Whatever. When it comes to battle, you’re silent but deadly,” you said. “Like a-” 

Astarion’s hand covered your mouth.  

“Do not finish that thought, darling.” 

You grinned from behind his palm.  

“I think we can be done with this conversation,” he said.  

“Wait, wait, one more...” you laughed. “You’re eccentric, unpredictable, often irrational. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”  

You smiled as Astarion groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand.  

“Knowing I’ll get to spend another day in your mad company gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” you added, softly. 

“Come here, you sweet fool,” he whispered, drawing you against him.  

You hugged him tightly. It took so long for him to start initiating these embraces that wouldn’t lead to sex... You relished each one.  

Tomorrow, Astarion thought to himself, unbeknown to you. I have to tell her tomorrow.  

~~~~~

Follow up bonus scene

This work is part of a series - here is the master list

Next in series - Confession

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89

@spacebarbarianweird @kittenintheden - hey, I heard you like elf ears

[gothamhappiness]

You are my heaven 4 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. And then you asked for more :)

My masterlist is here.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of fear and worry, pregnant!reader, ansgt

You were happy. You were feeling like everything was as it should be. You even started to forget about this whole story of Bruces being switched from parallel universes. The children too. The Justice League saw a difference in Batman but they didn’t press the subject when they also noticed how the children were acting around him. You were a real family. 

The “new” Bruce was always a little bit worried that the “real” Bruce would come back, but with time, he slowly let his guard down. He had a nightmare about it a few nights ago, but when he woke and found you by his side, he calmed down. He had wrapped his arm around, his hand resting on your belly. You were pregnant with his child and he was the happiest man on Earth. He was certain it was going to be a baby girl. You woke up a little before happily humming into his embrace, intertwining your fingers with his.

“All good, my love?” you whispered

“Just checking on my darlings” he murmured back as he kissed your shoulder

“Love you” you smiled

“Love you too” he replied with a smile matching yours

Your bedroom door cracked open then and you both saw Damian peering inside the room.

“Come, baby” you gestured to Damian to come closer

Damian was still a little bit unsure around this new version of his father. Of course, he seemed more caring and more protective, while still being a genius detective and an amazing warrior. But he still felt like he was betraying his original father.

“Everything alright?” Bruce asked

“Just a nightmare” Damian whispered, almost ashamed

You made room for Damian who settled against you. Bruce gently stroked his hair until the child fell asleep under his touch. You smiled even more. Your lover was going to be such a good father to your child.

You were at the hospital for a little check up on you and the baby. Bruce was supposed to join you there once he would be done with a quick meeting at Wayne Enterprises.

The real Bruce Wayne saw an opportunity. He knew his plan was drawing attention and that his other self and children would quickly understand… But he needed to reach you. He easily hacked the security of WE and he made sure that the breach would be seen and a problem to take care of as fast as possible. He hoped it would allow him to come find you while the other Bruce would have to deal with the little mess he created.

You were still in the waiting room when your actual husband showed up. He was glad he had bought several safe houses and that they held enough money and suits for him to look good. Your eyes instantly lit up when you saw Bruce, even though you could tell something seemed different. Bruce smiled back and leaned to kiss you. He so happily cupped your chin to deepen the kiss. He was a starving man who just wanted his wife back. Gosh, he almost forgot how good it was to get his lips on yours. You chuckled before gently pushing him away

“Come on, Bruce. There are people around us” you said, a little bit surprised

“Sorry, love. Missed you so much” he whispered to you

“We saw each other this morning” you replied, you were refusing to understand what this meant

“We really haven’t” Bruce replied

Your first thought was to worry about your lover. If your husband was there, did it mean that he had been sent back to his own world? You felt sick. You felt your phone buzzing in your bag and checked the notification: “Sorry, my love. We’ve got a security breach, I’ll do my best to be at the hospital as soon as possible”. You calmed down a little bit, even though you were unsure about what to do.

“What is going on?” you murmured

Bruce was about to say something when the nurse came to find you. You both followed her. You tensed a little when the man placed a hand on your back and he felt it. He moved closer so he could whisper into your ear.

“Come on, darling, it’s me” he tried to reassure you “Don’t be afraid, I’ll make things better very soon. I just need your help” he added and you didn’t answer

You settled in the room for the echography. Bruce stayed by your side the whole time, until the nurse asked him to go out so she could have a chat with just you. She had noticed you were a little bit stressed out today and she wanted to make sure everything was alright.

You apologised to the nurse.

“I’m sorry, I received a message before the consultation… I’m just going to make a very quick call, is it alright?” you asked and the nurse nodded.

You instantly took your phone and called your lover. As usual, the man answered right away.

“Is everything alright, my love? Are you out of the hospital already?” he asked and your silence instantly worried him “What happened?”

“He’s here” you simply said and your Bruce instantly understood what it meant

“Alright, my love. Take a deep breath, the stress is bad for you and the baby. I promise you I’ll make things better very soon” he told you “I just need you to come back home and relax, okay?” he added

“But he’ll probably follow me home” you worried

“When you’ll get out of the hospital, go find Alfred in the car and call Dick. Give him the emergency code and he’ll quickly come over. Can you do that for me, my love?” he instructed you

“Yes, okay. See you later” you said

“Keep me in check, my love.”

“You too”

You hung up before going back to the consultation. The nurse finished the tests she wanted to do and finally let you go. Bruce was waiting for you. He grabbed your hand and gently kissed the back of it.

“Let’s go home” he hummed and you nodded

Your silence was breaking the man even more

“I know you must feel very confused” he started “and it must be a shock that there are now two Bruce Wayne in town. But I’m your husband, I’m the real one. You have no idea how hard it has been to come back home. And even though the child isn’t really mine, I’m so excited to see you pregnant. I can’t wait for this new addition to the family” he said, thinking you were stressed out because of you discovering you cheated on him with another self

“How do I know you’re the real one?” you asked, you were trying to gain some time. “Look, I just need to call Dick. I promised him to do so after my consultation at the hospital and he’ll worry if I don’t”

“Of course, go ahead”

You grabbed your phone and called Dick, as you entered the car. Alfred was a little bit surprised by your gloomy face before noticing that Master Bruce wasn’t wearing the same clothes as this morning. There was a crazed glitter in his eyes as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Dick answered

“It’s just to let you know that everything is alright with the baby, but I’m not too sure I’ll be able to make it at tonight's party.” you replied and you heard Dick getting up and grabbing his coat

“Where are you?” he replied back

“Soon home” you hummed, relieved your eldest son was always so ready to help

“I’ll be there”

--

PART 5

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

Taglist for this series <3

@bat1212

@karakento

@kneelforloki

Thanks for the ideas & the comments <3

@motherofdragons1998

@silverklaus

@optimisticmoonunknown

@alishii

@kazuko-stuff

@makanirock05

[blackbat05]

Great Saviour

Bob Reynolds x Librarian! Reader

Plot: It’s been a busy day at the office and just when you thought you’re about to make it through, Mother Nature decides to strike. Luckily, you seem to have someone looking out for you.

Genre: PG-13, Fluff

A/N: New character alert! Watched Thunderbolts* and I am so endeared by both Bob and Lewis Pullman! It’s been a while since I wrote a completely new character. I seem to also have been on a certain Library! Reader trope, fulfilling my fantasies. But also thanks to many of you who have been supporting my works and special shoutout to @randomnessfangirl for encouraging me to write more of these☺️

Today was a hectic day. On a scale of 1-10, you were probably operating on a “I won’t stop moving until the day is actually over”.

Not only did you have two reading sessions with the little ones, you had to conduct a session about AI and ethical use to the older kids (seriously, what were kids using in their classrooms these days?).

Then, when you thought you could have your lunch, your colleague begged if you could help with the library decorations because the actual person who was supposed to do it was nowhere to be found and the task had now fallen onto her. How could you say no?

The task was followed by shelving of the recently returned books and checking on that request for more money to get that new range of children’s encyclopedia (only to be disappointed again). You could only take a breather when you finally returned to your desk. That’s when your stomach started to feel funny.

It’s probably nothing.

Then, you see him. A man with brunette curls, dressed in a loose navy blue sweater and brown pants. He clutches a book with a striking cover and bold red words as the title. As you meet his eyes, you can’t help but to notice how they sparkle under the dim lights. Yet, there was something a little sorrowful about his gaze. The man is obviously embarrassed and he attempts to turn away to not much success.

Maybe it was the fact that you caught him in a children’s library? Apart from parents with young ones, many appeared to stay away from books that they deemed to be too childish or simple.

You put on your professionalism as a librarian, and walk out of from the comfort of your desk to assist him.

“Hello! Can I help you?”

The man is startled like a deer caught in headlights. He realizes that you’re addressing him and starts to form a response, though he struggles.

“Um…”

“Are you lost? I understand the library can be very confusing for first timers. Our library is very big and people always wander into the brightest section.”

“I- uh… there’s something on your skirt.”

You frown slightly before looking at where he was pointing only to be shocked at the bright red stain on your precious cream colored tiered skirt.

“Oh no…” You groaned. You shouldn’t have ignored how tired you were when you woke up for work this morning. How you had to dig deep to conduct those three sessions almost back-to-back. That feeling in your stomach! Ugh!

The man stands awkwardly beside you before removing his sweater and handing it to you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t following you. Well, I was but only because I saw that. I mean- now you think I’m weird.” He runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation, making his curls even messier.

If you weren’t in this situation right now, you would have hoped to prolong this conversation to other topics. You have seen him a couple of times in the library, always occupied with interesting picks.

That was all, you only wanted an intellectual conversation.

“I couldn’t.” You protest but the man gently puts his sweater in your hands.

“Please, I insist. Besides, it was getting warm.” He hesitates for a moment before seeking permission to tie his sweater around your waist. The close proximity making your knees falter. Satisfied with his handiwork, he turns to leave.

“Wait! How can I return this to you?”

***

After rolling around in your bed for almost the entire Saturday, fighting off nature’s worst gift, you’re out in the streets of New York, heading to a clear destination in mind.

You found out that his name’s Bob. He would come to the library every afternoon at exactly 3pm and leave before 7pm to head back to what was the New Avengers headquarters.

This piece of information made you very nervous as you entered the building to give your name…

***

“Hey Buck, come take a look at this.” John beckons Bucky over at the screen to find you nervously waiting at the lift lobby.

“Walker I hope you didn’t do anything stupid to scare her.”

John looks offended. “I didn’t do anything! She’s looking for Bob!”

“Bob?”

At his name, Bob pops out from his reading nook. “Someone’s looking for me?”

“Yeah, she says she has your sweater? What’s that all about huh?” John teases.

“So that’s why you didn’t have your sweater!” Yelena walks into the kitchen. “We were coming back from grocery shopping. I had to make a detour to get something and Bob waited for me at the library.” She explains to the rest.

With this newfound information, the rest of the Avengers swoop in on Bob, demanding to know more about his encounter with you.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Bucky admonishes. “He just helped someone in need. You did right?”

Bob shifts uneasily in his seat. “Um… well… I’ve actually been to the library before and I’ve seen her a few times…” He trails off, leaving the rest to fill the gaps by themselves. Yelena is the first to break into a smile.

“You like her.”

Bob nods meekly, picking at the scab behind his hand. He can’t put a finger to the feeling whenever he sees you at your element whenever he visits the library. He can’t forget how kind you were to that little girl who was waiting for the latest installment of her favorite book one time. Oh, and another time you were helping a little boy with his writing homework. Oh! And-

“Alright we get it already!” John groans much to Bob’s embarrassment at rattling away about you.

“I think it’s cute.” Ava says.

The light on the elevator blinks, signaling your arrival, leaving the team scrambling to act normal when you enter the premise awestruck at the sheer scale of the building. Bob has to remind himself to take a few deep breaths and not freak you out like he did at the library.

“Y/N!” He lifts a hand awkwardly, putting it down almost immediately.

“Bob!” You did a little wave yourself. “This place is amazing! So are your teammates of course.” You greeted everyone who gave you their little nods and hellos of acknowledgement. “Oh! This is your sweater before I forget. You really saved me that day.”

Bob tries to ignore Yelena’s raised eyebrows and John’s snickers.

“Nah, I didn’t do much.”

“Nonsense! Also,” You rummaged the contents inside the paper bag. “I figured you might have been looking for this series.”

Bob stares in awe at the battered copies of The Chronicles of Narnia, while you looked on beaming, unaware of the effect you had on him and how much it meant to him that you had went out of the way to get books that he deemed that he had longed outgrown.

“Thank you. This is great.” He grips the books tightly like a lifeline, anchoring himself to prepare for what he really wants to tell you.

“You’re great.”

If you were alarmed at his emotional reaction to receiving a simple gift of thanks, you didn’t show it. On the contrary, you were emotional yourself seeing the man’s great reverence to the books and his appreciation for your actions.

A strange fluttery feeling settles in your stomach, making you light headed at the man’s earnest declaration towards you.

“I have more of where those books came from.” You continued, feeling a little nervous yourself as to what you were about to suggest. “In fact, a new set of books are probably coming in tomorrow. Would you like to come to the library to take a look? I could save you the first copies.”

“Really?”

“Really.” You affirm. “We could swing by a Fish and Chips place for dinner? If you’re free?”

Before Bob utters a word, Yelena is by his side. “He would love too, he has nothing on for the entire evening tomorrow.”

“Yeah! I would love too!” Bob finally manages to find his voice.

“Cool! I’ll see you then. Have a great evening.” You bid Bob and the rest of the team goodbye.

As soon as the lift closes, the team scrambles towards Bob, with impish grins on their faces.

“So! We need a game plan people.”

“John stop being an ass!”

“Hey I’m just trying to help the man get some game!”

“He has more game than you!”

This was going to be a long evening. Bob sighs to himself.

Still, he couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow.

[riamaple]

Life on Your Line (Ch. 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Cursed to sacrifice your life to save another, you were never able to connect with others, always meant to drift before you could belong. Death was all you knew. Then, one day in Brooklyn, you saved a young man, and for some reason, you kept seeing him again. And again. And again. No matter where you went, across decades, you always found your way back to him.

He was forced to live to destroy, you were forced to die to save—bound together in ways neither of you could understand.

Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending). Death and Dying. Self-Sacrifice (Immortality / Resurrection). Canon-Typical Violence / Description of Wounds. Suicidal Thoughts. Implications and References to Child Death, Suicide, Self-Destructive Behavior / Self-Harm.

Notes:

No use of (Y/N), but you do go by a lot of different fake names over the years; if any of the fake names is your actual name, feel free to make up a name there instead.

Bucky calls you “Rose” (you’ll see why) and you call him "James." If your name is actually Rose... Sorry.

You had a family (specifically, you had a child you loved dearly... Please note "Implications to Child Death" tag).

PLEASE READ WARNINGS CAREFULLY. I will put a warning at the beginning of the chapter if the content is particularly dark. If I missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word Count: 4.6k

CHAPTER 1: August 1935 - June 1943

PART 1: LIFE ON YOUR LINE

How does someone tell a story if they don’t know how it started?

That question always tormented your mind when you opened your journal at the end of the day, staring at the next line waiting to be filled with tales of your life.

You knew how your life in general started. Born to two loving parents and given a brother a few years later. Worked day and night to provide for the family just like your mother did. Grew up with dreams, with some coming true, and always excited for the next day.

But now? You dreaded tomorrow. This dread began when your other life started; when a new story unfolded within you with no prologue—just chapter one and so forth.

Tightening your grip on your pencil, you started your entry the same: with the time and date: 

August 10, 1935. 7:09 PM

From there, you would either write about your day or close the journal, putting it in a large glass jar that’d get hidden next to the other journals, right in between some rocks that decorated your brother’s grave. Today, there was nothing to write about, so you stood up, lightly brushed the dirt off your dress, and then walked away.

<><><>

August 11, 1935. 8:01 PM

You paused, wondering if there was anything worth writing about today. A few seconds went by before you simply exhaled, feeling frustration creeping up in your bones. You shut your eyes, feeling the fading sun slowly take away the warmth on your skin. With another breath, you flipped backward through your journal.

August 10, 1935. 7:09 PM

August 9, 1935. 7:39 PM

August 8, 1935. 8:05 PM

You continued to flip through the pages until eventually, you found the last entry you wrote.

June 19, 1935. 7:56 PM

It’s Henry’s birthday today. It’s hard to believe how much time has passed. I finally went to Manhattan the other day and saw that Clara’s hair had turned gray, and Roy and Ella now have children of their own now. Their children run about happily, and yet I can’t help but think that Henry should have been there to see his grandchildren grow up.  

I can only watch them from a distance. I know I promised Henry that I’d stay close to Roy and Ella, but how could I when I look the same age as them now? They would be horrified if they saw me, and I don’t want my niece and nephew to be scared of me. I know Henry said I should tell them one day, but I never will.

How cruel must the world have been to take him away when I could’ve saved him? Of all people, my baby brother. Why can’t I use this curse to help those I love? Henry should be here. Why must this world be so merciless?

When I saw Clara from afar, I saw it in her body. How she carries the weight of Henry’s absence every day. I could’ve saved her husband. Why didn’t the world let me?

Damn this world. I hate it all.

You slammed the journal closed and dropped to the grass, shoving the journal back into the glass jar before hiding it between the rocks again.

<><><>

For the first time in nearly two months, you found a reason to write more than just the time and date.

August 12, 1935. 7:36 PM

I managed to save a boy’s balloon today. He couldn’t have been more than 15 or 16. He had a balloon and a car rushed by him and the wind made him let go of it. It didn’t surprise me. He was small. If the breeze today was any stronger, he might’ve flown off with it. 

The balloon got caught in the tree and he couldn’t reach for it. No one bothered to help him. Perhaps they expected him to man up and move on as if his sorrow over a lost thing was something foolish. Shame on them.

I went over and pulled it down for him. He thanked me, such a polite little thing, all blonde hair and blue eyes. He wasn’t ashamed for a second for letting a woman like me help him. He told me he was bringing the balloon home for his sick mother. What a good boy she raised. I wonder if my baby girl would’ve done the same for me, bringing me a balloon or pastries when I felt unwell.

Regardless, when I watched him leave, I felt wonderful.

You read through your entry one last time, wondering if there were any more details to add. With a soft smile, you closed your book but quickly paused, feeling a familiar sense of longing overcome you again. You hugged the journal, biting your lips while slowly lowering yourself onto the grass again. You stayed like that for a while, letting the sun slowly set.

It was nice to save something so simple.

<><><>

You were aching like hell, stumbling to your brother’s gravestone before falling to the ground. The grass soaked into your knees as you struggled to open the glass jar and release your journal. With trembling hands, you pulled out a pencil and flipped to the latest page, but you paused at your last entry.

August 15, 1935. 7:25 PM

You stared at it before shaking your head, quickly writing down the newest entry before you forgot any details.

September 16, 1935. 6:48 AM

I saved a boy on August 16, and I woke up feeling as if I were made of broken bones.

It feels as though people on the streets have been getting more reckless, driving around like they’re invincible. I was on my way here to write my next entry. I had stopped by the bakery first to get some eclairs. 

On my way here, I saw a boy and his friend. I recognized his friend, it was the blonde boy who had the balloon. This boy, on the other hand, was taller with dark hair. He also looked older than his friend, like 18 or 19, or maybe his friend was so small that I thought he was younger than he actually was. They were walking away from the deli with a bag full of what I could only assume were snacks.

Then they went to cross the street and I felt the pull. I saw the car right then and there so I ran for him. I pushed him out of the way just in time. It hurt. It really hurt. I believe the car that hit me sped away.

I laid there while people screamed around me. The boys were next to me calling for help. The dark haired boy I saved was crying. He had frost blue eyes and asked me to stay awake, but I knew I wouldn’t.

My body was screaming when I woke up, and yet I found myself on my living room floor. The world didn’t even give me the decency to let me wake up in my bed this time.

With a long sigh, you shut the book and tilted your head back, feeling the wind on your skin. Within one month, the morning sun felt cooler, still warm enough to slowly make your skin sticky, but it was clear that autumn was approaching Brooklyn. You looked back down at the journal, suddenly feeling a rush of resentment toward it. Biting your lip, you quickly hid it in its usual spot before you made any regrettable decisions—you’d made a few of those before. You stood up again with a gasp, patting your dress down before walking off.

You had the same routine every time you returned to life: get a new identity and pretend your past self never existed. You used to move to a different home to avoid walking to the same streets, bumping into the same people, but recently stopped as it became too exhausting to relocate every few months. It was just easier to lie and act like those who recognized you were mistaking you for someone else.

The streets were never quiet, but they were emptier, as it was still early in the morning. You sped toward your workplace, knowing your best friend would’ve already arrived. You could see the Riverside Bookshop in the distance, carefully moving past strangers in case someone familiar was among them.

You walked right in with a huff of breath, the bell above the door ringing. Footsteps immediately caught your attention, and you looked up to see a woman in her fifties walking around one of the bookshelves. She went to speak, but she froze.

“Hi, Minnie,” you said, shifting in your stance. “Um, so…”

“You look awful.” Minnie sighed before shaking her head. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” you murmured while approaching her. “I’d say I’m sorry for skipping work, but you already know the drill.”

“You bet I do,” she replied, her eyes scanning you. “You need Lewis to fix you up with a new identity?”

You exhaled with relief in your voice. “I’d appreciate that. Sorry, though. I know it’s only been a few months since—”

She raised a hand to stop you. “Don’t give it a second thought. He won’t mind a bit. It’s a shame, though. Sherry was a nice name for you.”

You nodded in exhaustion, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to shake off the weight of it all. Minnie was still staring at you, watching you quietly.

“I heard what happened,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she gauged your reaction.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you quickly turned to her. “What? How did you—”

“Ada from church told me.” Minnie picked up a stack of misplaced books. “It was inevitable someone would talk about it. The ‘lady who died in a car accident saving a boy,’ you know? It was all anyone was talking about for days.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine. Though you had gone through this process numerous times, it was often in a quieter place, with fewer bystanders to witness your less dramatic death. You stood up straighter as your heart pounded against your chest. “Was…was anyone who knew me there?” you asked, your voice trembling a little.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “None of my friends. All they’ve been calling you is ‘the lady.’ That’s it.”

You let out a deep breath that was restrained, the knot in your stomach loosening. “That’s…that’s good,” you muttered. “No one knows it was me.”

Minnie watched you for a moment before sighing softly. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said, putting one of the books back in its original place. “Die and come back for strangers. Every time.”

Your lips went ajar as you looked at the floorboards. You shrugged, the familiar weight of it all pressing down on you once more. “It’s just…how it is,” you quietly said. “I feel a pull, and I know whoever is in danger right then and there needs saving. It’s like something inside me is telling me to do it. I don’t have a choice.”

Minnie watched you for a moment, her lips pressed together as she let out a slow breath. You could see the sadness in her eyes, though she said nothing. As your childhood friend, she had been with you since you were given this curse, keeping your secret while she grew older. She knew this was how it was, as much as she hated it.

“Do you want to work today, or would you rather take a day off?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.

“I’d rather work,” you answered rather quickly. “I feel bad for leaving you alone for a month.”

“We’ve been through this before, and it’s okay.” Minnie grinned before glancing at your knees. “Maybe you want to go home and change, though. Your dress is stained.”

You blinked before glancing down at where the grass had left dirt and morning dew on your knees. You cleared your throat, “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Take your time. You just came back.”

You nodded, but you hastily left the store and rushed home, desperate to get right back to organizing bookshelves and cleaning the windowsills.

Right. That was also part of your routine: live your life as if you didn’t die a horrible death a month ago.

<><><>

June 12, 1943. 7:19 PM

June 14, 1943. 9:22 AM

For the first time in a long while, I’m late to write in this journal, and it wasn’t because I died. I ended up going to a little gathering Minnie hosted last night and it was fun. Well, I guess everything is always fun when people don’t really know who you are, right? You can make up any story you want. It’s always a little strange pretending to be Minnie’s niece… But still, it was really nice to find some joy in these times. 

It’s been scary. The war is getting crazier and they’re only dragging more people in. Minnie’s been upset over Robert getting dragged to war. I can’t blame her. She has every right to fear for the safety of her grandson. I’m just worried that she will have a heart attack like Lewis from this whole thing. I don’t want to lose her too. We can only hope that Robert comes back home safe and sound.

You paused, your hand suddenly trembling around your pencil. With a quiet, shaky breath, you finished the entry.

Sometimes, I wish I were on the battlefield next to Robert. Because maybe, if needed, I could save him like I should’ve with Henry.

Setting down the pencil, you shut the book and slid it into your bag under the front table. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to stand up straight. It was hot and empty in the store, the kind of warmth that would annoy the average person, but you were used to it. You tugged on your collar, feeling the fabric peel from your skin, and you groaned. 

Okay, maybe you weren’t used to it as much as you hoped.

“It's hot, isn’t it?”

You looked up at Laura, Minnie and Lewis’s daughter who had taken over Riverside Bookshop since Minnie retired. It was still crazy to you that you watched Laura grow up her entire life, and there she was now, physically older than you. “Yeah, it is.”

Laura chuckled, dusting off the tops of the shelves, “At least we don’t have to spend our day outside.”

You hummed, stepping around the front desk to help with tidying up the store. There was not much to do as they hadn’t had a lot of people come in lately, as the war waged on, but you couldn’t just stand around and do nothing. You wiped down the reading areas, removing the dust from the tables when you heard the bell above the door ring.

“Hello! Welcome in,” Laura greeted the customers with melody in her voice, as if her son wasn’t currently fighting for his life on the other side of the planet. “Let us know if you’re looking for anything in particular.”

You briefly peeked past the shelves to see a boy and a girl. The teenage, dark-haired girl looked around the store in awe while the dark-haired boy—or rather, a young man—in a military uniform watched her with a smile.

“Like I said, you can pick any book you want,” he told the girl, who snapped her head up at him.

“Really? Jimmy, is that alright?”

“Of course it is, Becca,” he laughed, gently nudging her shoulder. “Just don’t tell Annie and Betty. I don’t need them thinking I have a favorite sister.”

“Even though I am?” she teased.

“As long as you’re quiet about it.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their conversation. It made your heart warm to see siblings get along very well. You and your brother had been very close, with you starting as his protector and then switching roles once he grew taller and stronger than you. Lately, you had seen a lot of siblings argue and fight and refuse to talk to each other altogether. It made you want to scream; you wanted them to understand that their sibling was someone they could always trust to have their back.

So hearing those two giggle as they roamed around the store made your voice soft with your own giggles. You continued to tidy up the store, cleaning off dust from the lovely books and reorganizing any that were out of place. It was nice and calm in the room, and despite the heat, you felt yourself smiling like how your mother would when listening to you and Henry joke around.

Although you did sometimes forget that you were now around the same age as your mother when she passed away. An old lady in the body of a young woman, forever trapped in time.

“My brother is leaving tomorrow.”

You perked your head up, eavesdropping on the girl, Becca, speaking to Laura on your right. “He’s going to fight in the war tomorrow, so he wanted to get me a gift.”

Your smile vanished as you heard Laura speaking, immediately noticing the motherly terror in her voice at learning about the young man’s leave, “I see. That’s sweet of him to get you a gift. You like reading?”

“Honestly, I don’t read much, but my brother reads all the time and he used to share these stories with me. I guess I wanted to read more because of him.”

Her words soothed your heart, and you found yourself smiling again, only with sadness this time. Becca clearly admired her older brother, her voice tinted with sorrow while she put on a brave face for others. You softly sighed, gripping the book in your hand tightly before placing it back on the shelf.

Then, you began to hear someone walking closer on your left. You looked up to see the young man, Jimmy, approach you with a gentle smile, and you immediately grinned back without the sadness.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he started, his warmth radiating off of him, “do you know where I can find—”

He froze, his smile immediately dropping as his eyes locked onto yours. You faltered briefly, perplexed by the loss of warmth in the young man, and—though you didn’t want to admit it—you were slightly intimidated by his gaze. As a horrified frown took over his lips, you took note of his frost-blue eyes.

…Wait.

No, it couldn't—

“Yes?” you quickly spoke, trying to mask the sudden intensity between the two of you. You forced out a lovely smile, though his expression continued to twist. “How can I help you?”

But the young man didn’t reply. He just continued to stare so deeply into your eyes that maybe they were hurting a bit. Or maybe it was because you were trying to keep your own emotions in check. To stop any tears from forming. This was ridiculous—you shouldn’t cry over this, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this was really the boy you—

“It’s you,” he suddenly breathed out, his voice too soft for anyone but you to hear.

You blinked, pretending to be confused when you knew exactly who you were looking at. “I’m sorry? I don’t follow.”

“You—” He suddenly stepped back as if he was staring at a ghost; to be fair, you could be one. His chest heaved and his lips began to quiver. “You saved me. It’s you. It’s—”

You raised both of your hands quickly, plastering more confusion into your face while the concern was real. “Whoa, sir. Are you alright? You don’t look so well.”

“Jimmy?” Becca walked over from behind you, holding a book with furrowed eyebrows. “Jimmy, what’s going on?”

But the young man didn’t respond to his sister. He could only keep his eyes on you, and you could only do the same. Laura joined you all while you took a breath and put on another smile, more gentle and warm than the last, though chills continuously went up your spine. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow what you’re saying…” 

“I…” His hands lightly shook as his eyes shifted all around, taking in your face every possible way. Trying to digest the appearance of the woman who saved his life.

But she was dead. He learned later in the day at the hospital, where he had gone with his mother and his friend to thank the woman, that she had died. That her body had failed on her before she even made it to the hospital and was soon to get buried.

Her name was Sherry.

Upon hearing the news, the boy collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably as his mother tried to soothe him. He suddenly remembered the woman’s face so clearly—how the blood heavily coated her skin and light slowly faded from her eyes. It was his fault she died. 

The boy’s friend stood frozen, unable to process the death of the woman, watching his friend crumble before he lost it too.

Because maybe they were a bit more careful, you’d be alive.

You bit the inside of your mouth as Becca reached for her brother's shoulder, gently shaking him. “Jimmy…?”

He suddenly blinked rapidly, realizing his stance, and shook his head. “I, uh—” he cleared his throat and smiled embarrassingly, “I’m sorry. I’m fine.”

Laura narrowed her eyes, clearly concerned for the young man. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Um, I’m sorry, ma’am.” He turned his attention back towards you, his gaze no longer intense but now just heavy. “I didn’t mean to scare you out. I… You just look like someone I knew.”

Your stomach coiled. Suddenly, you felt so sick.

Although you couldn’t see her directly, you felt Laura’s eyes on you, realizing what the young man meant by his words. You forced a smile once again, acting like you weren’t dying on the inside. “It’s alright. I’m…I’m sorry that I’m not who you were expecting.”

He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. It’s just… The person you remind me of is very important to me. But that’s no excuse for scaring you. I’m sorry.”

He smiled at you again, but your chest only tightened by the hurt in his eyes. He desperately wished you were the one who saved him all those years ago—the one who pushed him out of the way and died in his stead—the one who he deemed to be very important in his life.

But you were. You really were. But you bit back your words and returned the grin. “It’s alright. It happens.”

He nodded, though the hesitation was evident. He turned to his sister and gestured to the book. “Is that the one?”

Becca, still eyeing him down with furrowed eyebrows, slowly nodded. “Yeah. Jimmy, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m alright.” He nudged her shoulder playfully before taking her book. 

Laura gestured to the desk behind her. “I can take care of that for you at the front.”

Jimmy and Becca followed her to the front desk, their footsteps soft against the worn wooden floor. You lingered behind, drifting toward a nearby shelf and running your fingers along the spines of books. In reality, you were only putting distance between yourself and the young man, as if that could settle the unease curling in your stomach.

Still, even without looking, you could feel him glancing at you. A flicker of attention. A hesitation. A longing.

To force a sense of normalcy, you lifted your head and met his eyes with a polite, easy smile. Nothing too stiff, nothing too strained—just enough to make it seem like everything was fine. He faltered, his fingers curling around the book tighter while his lips pressed into a thin line. Then he exhaled and gave you a small, apologetic smile in return.

He was sorry, but for what? For your lies?

The siblings took their purchase and made their way toward the door—Jimmy didn’t dare to look at you again. The bell jingled as they stepped out, but the second they were gone, you spun toward the front desk. Laura stepped back with a quiet breath, watching you yank your journal from your bag and quickly flip through the pages.

“Auntie?” she said, trying to calm you down, but you couldn’t.

You couldn’t because you knew. You knew. But still, you just had to check. You had to make sure it was really—

The dark haired boy I saved was crying. He had frost blue eyes and asked me to stay awake, but I knew I wouldn’t.

The journal fell from your grasp as you stumbled back into the chair, tripping over it and tumbling to the floor. Clutching at your chest, you bit your lip as you tried to control your unsteady breathing. Laura swiftly kneeled next to you, holding onto your shoulders as she whispered.

“Hey, it’s alright. Auntie, it’s alright.” She glanced at your journal as if it carried some terrible omen. “Do you need a second?”

“I…” You inhaled sharply before letting out a slow breath. “I think I need a bit of water.”

“Alright, I can get that.” Laura stood up, uneasy about leaving you but still hurrying off to fetch a drink.

You just sat there. Staring at your journal.

At one point, Laura did come back and give you water. Let you hide behind the front desk on the floor, pretending you weren't in the room when other customers would stop by and wouldn’t see you. You sat there with the journal in your hands for a while, quiet in your whirling thoughts as the need to write crawled up your skin.

Soon, you found a pencil.

June 14, 1943. 10:47 AM

I lied. Not everything is as fun as it seems when no one knows who you are. How do you tell someone — someone who thinks you're dead — that you're so glad they lived?

I saved that boy so long ago and he recognized me. That never happened before — no one remembers me.

His frost blue eyes are as vibrant as before and I think he's roughly the same age as Robert now. How amazing is that? That he got to grow up that much? And he has a sister — I think he has a couple of them. He seems like such a sweet boy, buying his sister a book just to make her happy. He looked so happy doing it too.

I overheard that the boy young man is leaving tomorrow. 

Why? Why would they let him do this? They can’t. I saved him once, but now he’s off to a place where I know I can’t reach him. 

Why would the world let me save him just to let him die young?

That girl is going to lose her brother just like how I lost mine.

This isn’t fair. None of this is fair. I just want it to end.

NEXT CHAPTER >

General Taglist! @a-century-of-sass

Thanks for reading :)

[unsolicited-opinions]

So, I despise Peter Beinart.

I respect an intellectually honest critic of Israel, but that's not what Peter Beinart is. He's a Jewish antisemite, an even more dangerous one than Norman Finkelstein. I can think of few people I detest more, or with better reason.

On the other end of the spectrum, among people I admire most (as is obvious to any follower of this blog), is Haviv Rettig Gur.

So I was pleased to see Haviv has written a short essay about Beinart, in response to this piece of shit Beinart wrote about Purim, taking the opportunity to once again attack the Jewish people "as a Jew."

It's excellent.

Beinart has gone full antisemite. Really. Actually. In fairness to him, I’ll explain why. You know that weird neighbor who leaves comments online about money-grubbing Jews? He’s not really an antisemite. He’s just an idiot. Scratch the surface and you’ll find he has stupid, petty opinions about everyone. Antisemitism is much more ambitious. An antisemite believes it is their righteous duty to sit in judgment of the Jews for a great, archetypal, culture-defining criminality. The Jews’ first great crime, of course, was deicide, or at least the refusal to accept Christ or Mohammed. But it has since been updated to serve new masters. The particulars change, but not the substance. Not the fundamental demand that Jews answer for some unique and history-altering villainy for which all Jews are deemed accountable and complicit. Are you starting to see it? The demand is powerful, because it always comes from a position of power. And it has felled many a Jew over the centuries, sad souls who sought safety from their oppressors first through acceptance of the iniquity ascribed to them and then by joining in the antisemite’s crusade to make other Jews do the same. Nine hundred years ago, one tormented Jew succumbed to this relentless pressure, found relief in conversion and then enthusiastically joined in the holy effort to persecute the Jews. (To understand why they must be persecuted, read St. Augustine on the Jews. Or the relevant passages in the Quran.) That Jew’s name was Theobald of Cambridge. He converted to Christianity and in service to his new faith brought forth the first known accusation that Jews ritually murder Christian children. Thanks to the hard work of some concerned priests, his accusation spread like wildfire throughout Europe. Countless Jews would die in the ensuing centuries at the hands of those enraged by the blood libel. And a Jew invented it. A Jew yearning for validation in the antisemite’s withering gaze, a Jew desperate to atone for the murder of God and the delay of history’s redemptive finale. What Beinart now peddles to anyone willing to listen is an ideologically updated version of the same claim of deep-seated and defining criminality in the Jews. He confirms to our tormentors that this criminality is the distillation and apotheosis of the great evils of our age. And he demands a great accounting from the Jews. All the Jews. Categorically. And of course, the censorious Torquemadas of the Guardian, who would deem it bigotry to say such a thing about the world’s Muslims, consider it ennobling and virtuous to level this demand at the Jews. The Jews’ crime, after all, is no ordinary breach. It is, as ever, paradigmatic, culture-defining and history-altering. And Beinart, like Theobald of old, surrenders himself to their holy judgment and demands that the rest of us do the same. This is it, folks. This is the real thing. Well done, Peter. You looked and looked and finally found it. Absolution. Acceptance. You are deemed righteous by those who see in the rest of us a great and abiding criminality. You are free at last. Of us, of our genocidal religion, of our child-murdering cabals. Be at ease.

Source

[red5131]

"For you darlin’ there is nothin’ I wouldn’t do."

summary: Joel brings you a present 

Warnings: none! Just fluff!

(I wrote this after watching episode six of season two. It just warmed my heart to see what Joel does for Ellie, so I just know he would do the same for his woman.)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You lean against the kitchen counter, nursing a glass of water. You rub your temple, a headache starting to brew in the depths of your mind. You had started working at the daycare in Jackson. Your days usually started with drinking some of Joel's coffee. You would lean against the counter, like you are now, a coffee mug in your grasp as you say goodbye to Joel as he leaves for patrol. The hand not holding the mug would gently grasp his jaw, his facial hair brushing against your hand as you leaned up and kissed him goodbye. He would leave after the tender kiss, his rough voice from just getting out of bed telling you that he loved you and that he would see you later.

Once you were more ready for the day, you would walk through the middle of town to the daycare, where your day would end by getting screamed at by four year olds.

While only being a couple years old when the apocalypse started, you wanted to follow in the footsteps of your mother and become a teacher. Of course that dream was ripped away once the modern world ended. When, for some, education was not important. Only survival was. But despite this, your mother taught you everything she knew about the English language. The semantics of it might have not stuck out to you, but books and reading did. Your father never allowed you to carry more than one book at a time, understandable, but you sometimes would had to read the same book over and over again until you could find a new one. While your mother passed away many years ago, her warmth and her love for children still resided in you.

So when the offer was mentioned you took it. However you had no idea what you were getting yourself into. These children..were little devils. On one side you couldn’t blame them, look at the world they were born into. The kind of lives they had to get used to. The loss that many of them have or would have to experience. The world had become a much crueler place. But despite all of that, the children could at least respect you a little more.

“Tough day darlin’?” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice, so lost in thought you didn’t hear the front door open or his footsteps. His chuckle warmed your chest. 

“Didn’t mean to scare ya.” 

You turned towards Joel, a tired smile lighting up your freckled face, “It okay. I scare easy, you know that. And it was.” 

Joel came closer, his scent infiltrating your nose. A strong earthy smell with a mix of gunpowder. He placed a horribly wrapped box on the counter beside you. 

You looked at him with suspicious eyes, “what is this?”

Joel’s lightly smiled a little, a smirk stretching across his features, “Open it darlin’.”

“You got me a present? It’s not even my birthday.” 

You gingerly turned towards the box, your hands coming up and resting on the top, “did you wrap this?”

Joel grumbled, “Yah, something wrong with it?” 

You giggled eyeing the wrinkled paper and the horrible tape placement, “No, nothing.” 

Joel rolled his eyes, “Will you just open the damn box.” 

While Joel loved to hear your giggle, he wanted you to open the box more. On his patrol today, he had come across a house that definitely once belonged to a book collector. Many of the books were ineligible or falling apart, but he was able to find a couple- a couple books that he knew you wanted to get your hands on. 

“Okay. Okay. You grump.” You grumbled giving him a fake glare as you pulled off the paper around the box. As soon as the wrapping paper was off, you pulled the box open.

Inside laid two books. A pretty worn out copy of The Lord of the Rings and The Game of Thrones. You stared in shock at the sight, the emotions starting to swirl in your chest. 

“Joel-”

“Are they not the right ones darlin’? I could have sworn these were the ones-”

You turned to him, your eyes welled with unleashed tears. It warmed your heart that despite his tough exterior that he would go so out of his way to do something like this for you. That he took the time to look through who knows how many houses and books to just find the ones that you wanted. 

“Hey, why..why are you crying? They aren’t the right ones? You..you can give me a list then, write down all the ones you want and I’ll-”

You step closer to him and grab the front of his jacket tugging him closer, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. His heart beats widely under your hand, as his own arm encases your waist. 

“No Joel, they are perfect. Thank you. I hope you didn’t go through too much trouble.”

Joel cups one side of your face, forcing you to look into his eyes. Eyes that are filled with pure genuine affection and love.

“For you darlin’ there is nothin’ I wouldn’t do.”

*not edited*

[onlydylanobrien]

New still of Dylan O'Brien as Rocky/ Roman and James Sweeney as Dennis in "Twinless". (2025)

📷©: ew.com

First look at Dylan O’Brien’s Twinless, a Sundance contender that takes inspiration from the Olsen twins

"That visceral moment of 'you look just like me' is imprinted in my formative memories," says writer-director James Sweeney.

Nineties kids are kind of obsessed with twins. And for good reason — we grew up with the Olsen twins, the remake of The Parent Trap, and Sister, Sister.

Writer-director James Sweeney takes that obsession to the next level with Twinless, his sophomore feature that will have its world premiere on Jan. 23 at the Sundance Film Festival. Entertainment Weekly has your exclusive first look at the film, in which Sweeney costars alongside Dylan O'Brien.

"I grew up in a generation that idolized twins," Sweeney tells EW. "It was very much in my zeitgeist. It was a manifestation of the perfect best friend, somebody you could share everything with. As a military brat hopping around, that was something I really craved. When I told my stepmom about what the film was, she was like, 'Oh, you used to beg me for a twin, and I had to explain to you that I can't make that happen.'"

That early fascination is evident in Twinless, which even features a scene with a character watching the Olsen twins' film It Takes Two. "That was definitely my fantasy," Sweeney says of the 1995 film. "It's like, 'Oh, one day I'll just magically run into my identical twin.' Even though they're actually not twins, they're just lookalikes. But that visceral moment of 'You look just like me' is imprinted in my formative memories."

As for Twinless, the film tells the story of a twin, Roman (O'Brien), who loses his brother, Rocky (also O'Brien), and feels like he's lost half of himself. After Rocky dies, Roman decides to stay in Rocky's Portland, OR apartment as he navigates his grief. While attending a support group for twin loss, he befriends Dennis (Sweeney), a fellow lost soul — and the two find solace in each other, forming an unlikely bromance.

"Roman and Dennis get along so well because they're both bringing their respective baggage and grief and traumas to the table," Sweeney says. "They bond and complement each other."

Sweeney is not a twin, but he did base his script on the existence of twin bereavement support groups. Though, out of respect for all involved, he didn't attend one of their meetings. "I thought it would be too much to attend," he explains. "I did order a book from their website, because I did research and read some books written by twin psychologists. One was called Alone in the Mirror, which touches on twin loss. It was written by the co-founder of the support group, and I paid $25 and they never sent me a book."

Even without that book (he tried!), Sweeney was fascinated by the psychology of twins and how that unique bond differs from those of siblings who are not twins. "I would say being a twin isn't a monolithic experience, so there's so many variations," Sweeney notes. "It also has a lot to do with how the parents reared their children and whether or not they encouraged or discouraged individuality between the twins. But there's a lot of studies done on twins because they see them as the perfect specimen."

Explorating what it means to be (and lose) a twin first attracted O'Brien to the project. Sweeney wrote the first draft in 2015, and O'Brien has been attached since 2020. But the script grabbed the actor from the moment it popped up in his inbox alongside several others his manager sent his way.

"I'm fascinated by it in terms of it being something so unique on this earth," O'Brien says of the twin dynamic. "That is one of those things that really, unless you experience it, you can't understand. Twinless support groups exist because it is a very specific loss and trauma that you need support with — losing a connectivity that us normies can't ever quite understand. That deeply resonated with me, even though I don't have a twin. I found it to be a really compelling and heart-wrenching center to this story. This tragically poignant tale of this kid losing his other half."

That, along with his love for his character, propelled O'Brien to stick with the project these last five years while the film searched for funding and postponed production in the wake of the 2023 Hollywood strikes. "It was a gut thing for me," O'Brien reflects. "I remember falling in love with Roman immediately. I read a character, and either I have that soul in me or not. Roman's somebody I know really deep down."

Sweeney was incredibly moved by O'Brien's dedication and enthusiasm for the project, a quality that was evident from their first meeting. "When I first met Dylan over Zoom, he really took ownership over the role in a way that I had never experienced with an actor," Sweeney says. "He basically said, 'I see you. I see your voice. I understand this character and his every emotion.' That gave me a lot of confidence."

For both O'Brien and Sweeney, getting to make this movie entirely on their terms was a creative reward unto itself. "The script was so fantastic and dialed in from the time I first read it," O'Brien notes. "I authentically connected to it all. It was one of those wonderful creative experiences."

But now they get to share it with the world, beginning in the U.S. Dramatic Competition at the Sundance Film Festival. Still, Sweeney says anything from here on is a cherry on top of his twin sundae.

"This was an instance where I had optimal creative control and a wonderful team championing me to do exactly the movie I wanted to make," he concludes. "I know that's a rare gift. I'm super excited for people to see the film and to find its audience. But as far as I'm concerned, I'm already content."

[houseofhyde]

thinking abt aemond falling in love w blind!reader.

pairing. aemond x fem!reader warnings. no use of y/n, enemies to friends to lovers, ableism, so much fluff, a little bit of smut, angst (who said that). no mention of the reader's physical description. wrote in one sitting, no edit, we die like real men. wordcount. 3.1k (this was meant to be a short silly drabble) hyde's input. couldn't get this out my mind so, naturally, i'm making it your problem too now. enjoy, muah x disclaimer ! i'm not visually impaired but i do have several family members who are, to different degrees, and i've tried to stay true to what i remember them describing it like to me. the reader in this is completely blind, however, and that is something i do not have any experience in. please, if you feel anything about my portrayal is wrong or offensive, kindly let me know and i will happily fix it <3

the first time you meet is a few days after the events on driftmark.

with his new disability, the septa encourages alicent to change his usual lessons alongside his siblings for ones held with a couple of other impaired children of highborn status living in the keep.

aemond, of course, protests.

nearly kicking and screaming.

yells at his mother that he doesn't want to be thrown in a box with all the other "broken toys".

he ends up going anyway, dragged there by a handful of guards.

sulks throughout the whole first week, sitting alone in a corner.

and he would've continued to do that forever, if you didn't invade his space.

aka sit down next to him and offer him a book.

"go away," he says, the pout on his lips pointing lower to the ground.

"i don't want to," you refute.

"i won't tell you again, go. away."

"who are you to tell me anything?"

it leaves him speechless, because,

who is he? seriously?!

he thinks you have to be some sort of idiot to not recognise your prince

the following days go the same as the first

you sit near him and hold out a book

he tells you to go away

sometimes you listen

(not without first making it clear that you're moving because you want to, not because he told you to)

other days you don't

you just sit there next to him

staring blankly ahead

not even attempting to open the book that sits in your lap

one day, when he's feeling particularly short on patience

(he had his first sparring lesson with ser criston since losing his eye and it went awfully, each hit and stumble he took to the ground made worse by the echo of aegon's laughter ringing out throughout the whole courtyard)

he asks why you never read that book

"are you an idiot, or something? can't you read? is that why you're here?"

despite how smart he is for his age, he seems to not see the irony in him judging you for being part of an impaired group, as if he isn't also right there with you

such introspection would require acceptance of his loss first, and aemond just isn't ready for that.

"i can't read," you confirm

"because you're slow"

"no."

"then why?"

"i can't see the pages," it's the first time he notices that you're not looking at him. you're trying, face turned and eyes pointed in his direction, but you're staring past his shoulder, "i can't see anything."

he feels guilty,

wretched,

and the sickest twist of comfort.

because he understands

or at least he tells himself he does

because he can't see anything either - out of his missing socket, that is.

the other eye can see perfectly clearly how you don't even flinch as you speak about your disability

and that's when the jealousy takes over.

"then what good is it carrying around that stupid book?"

he says it because he wants to be mean.

so mean that you run away and leave him alone to sulk forever more.

but you just sit there, shrug your shoulders and shift the book around in your palm,

"i like to feel the weight of it in my hand. plus, you never know when you're going to need throw it at someone"

he bites his tongue before he can ask how you can hope to hit a target you can't even see.

the hostility remains

for months, years.

but you sit near him,

he stops telling you to go away,

you still offer the book out to him.

he learns your name.

not because he wants to

but because the septa calls it out one day in the classroom

and you're the one that answers to it.

the first time he sees you outside the study room, you're all alone, none of your father's guards around you,

and that's what really makes him stop in his tracks.

"what kind of lord leaves his daughter to wander blindly around the keep?" he almost says with his usual disgust,

until he notices that you don't have your book

and you're crying.

despite his own discomfort, aemond tells himself he has to comfort you.

because he's thirteen, almost a man.

and what kind of respectable man leaves a girl to cry all by herself?

he wipes your tears with the sleeves of his doublet, waits patiently until your breathing slows, then he speaks,

"what happened?"

"it's you," you say it softly, almost like you can't believe he's the one comforting you.

"it's me. now tell me what happened?"

"nothing," you tell him at first,

until he demands the full truth in the name of his father, king viserys targaryen.

"i overheard my mother speaking to my father about me. i didn't mean to! i just wanted to show them how i memorised the path from my chambers to theirs, without an escort. i wanted to prove that i can be useful, and good, and not a burden. i heard them through the crack in their door. she wants him to send me away to join the silent sisters. she says i can't see, so i may as well not speak either. but my father won't listen. he says i'm his daughter, and that he will not send me away. he loves me too much, i worry he'll hate me for it one day."

that familiar guilty feeling creeps in,

the one he's felt lingering on his skin since the day you told him of your visual impairment.

he's suddenly so aware of the fact he can see you,

and your tear-stained face,

and the shades of blue in your dress.

"where is your book?" he asks.

"i dropped it, whilst running through the halls. i just wanted to stop hearing them, i didn't want... i didn't mean to cause any mess, i'm sorry."

in an act that surprises even him, aemond takes your hand in his

and pulls you both to your feet.

he slowly leads you along familiar hallways, turning corners he's turned a million times.

"where are we going?"

"trust me."

you know he's taken you to the library the minute he opens the doors, a whiff of old books hitting your senses.

he guides you to a book shelf, puts your hand up to touch the exposed spines

and tells you to move forward.

"stop when you feel it's right."

you stop after four steps.

your fingers grazing over a book titled Matters Of The Heart: a Compilation of Fictitious Stories on Love and Beauty.

he pulls it out the shelf,

guides you both over to a bench,

open the dust covered book,

and reads to you.

the following day, when your father's guards guides you down next to aemond in the study room

and you hold your book out to him

he takes it,

shuffles a little closer to you,

and softly recites the words off their pages.

from that day forward, you become an infamous pair in the keep.

the one-eyed prince and the sightless girl,

never one without the other.

aemond becomes your shadow, always two steps ahead or behind you.

you pick out books in the library

and he reads them to you both.

he brings you down to the courtyard

and watches how you flinch each time the clack of wooden swords rings out.

it drives him to be better,

learn to see more in his opponents than even two eyes would allow,

just so he can watch how the smile stretches across your face each time he tells you he won.

you grow so close that one day, the king invites your family to join the royals for supper.

aemond tries not to care that you end up sitting so far away from him at the table.

at least he can look down it and spot you seated at your father's side, he tells himself.

when dinner ends and music starts to play,

aemond ceases the chance to sneak away from his seat and steal the empty one by your side, both your parents having stood to speak with the king.

he brushes two fingers along the back of your hand,

a private, tactile language only you two can speak,

one that tells you it's him, without him even having to say a word.

"prince aemond," you say, and he instantly hates hearing you address him so formally. "you look handsome this evening"

"and how would you know that?" there's no hint of the malice, the mockery he once used to speak to you with, back when he was angry little boy and you were a stubborn girl.

now he's a man of fifteen years and anger is far from something he feels next to you.

he watches you shrug and the smile that he likes best - cheeky, playful - slips onto your lips

"my mother won't stop bringing it up. dashing, she said."

"is that so?"

"mhmm. but she also says my father should offer me to your father and have us both wed, what with our cripple-like qualities making us unsuited for any other lord or lady, so, really, what does she know? for all i know, you're the most hideous thing to walk the keep and i should feel blessed that i can't see you."

"imagine how i feel. i still have to see you."

"oh, the horrors! well then, my all-mighty seeing knight-in-eye-patch, would you lend me your sight one moment and tell me."

"tell you what?"

"do i have anything in my teeth?" you bite back your laughter as you open your mouth and put your pearly-whites out on display for him.

he doesn't even care if the sight is unlady-like

or if anyone else at the table has noticed.

he's too busy laughing along with you and telling lies of how a massive piece of veg is stuck between your upper front teeth.

aegon is as aegon has alaways been,

a thorn in aemond's side,

and he makes no exceptions when it comes to you.

he can't help but laugh at you both

mouth stained with wine as he saunters up and leans his face down between you both.

"isn't it amazing how, between you both, there's only one eye that actually works?"

aemond bites his tongue, like he always does when it comes to his brother.

you, however, aren't quieted so easily.

"oh, so amazing! do you know what's even more amazing? how the stench of you always announces your arrival."

it's the first time aemond feels it.

that flutter in his chest.

and once it starts, it doesn't seem to want to stop,

he seeks you out most hours of the day

and thinks of you when he's not with you.

when he notices the bruises that litter your arms

from bumping into corners and walking into walls

he has a cane made for you, to help you more safely make your way through the keep.

it's the greatest gift he can give you: the freedom to walk your own path.

one day, as he's telling you about the recent flight he took upon vhagar, you ask him what the sky looks like.

"well, it's blue"

you blink at him, wait for the ball to drop.

"but you wouldn't know what that means"

he tries to think of something else, a different way to describe the vastness of the sky

"have you ever ridden upon a horse?"

you nod your head

"have you ever ridden fast upon a horse?"

you nod again.

"that feeling, when you're gripping at the reigns, and the horse's hooves beat against the ground like a drum, and the wind takes no mercy on your hair, and, for a moment, there's this... warmth of possibility, anticipation, right here" he guides your hand to rest atop your chest, on the side that your heart rests. "that you can leap and beat any obstacle in your way, and for a moment the world is open, and vast, and limitless. that is what the sky looks like, the perfect place to race upon horseback."

"except you're on a dragon."

"well, yes, but find me a horse that has wings and i promise to take you riding up in the sky one day."

you ask him to describe more things, more often.

the forest.

the iron throne.

the sea.

vhagar.

each book he reads you.

till one day you ask, "what do you look like?"

he tries his best.

he tells you about his signature targaryen hair,

and helps guide your hand up to touch it.

he tells you about his pointed nose,

and guides your pointer finer up to drag itself down the length of it.

he tells you about his jawline,

and lets you feel that part of him too.

"and your eye?" you ask.

he doesn't say anything

but he does peal off his eyepatch

and guide your hand up to run down the length of his scar.

"what does it look like?"

"gross."

"that's funny, because it just feels like skin. is all skin gross?"

"no but this skin... it's damaged."

"i feel something. it's hard," you murmur, as your nail traces over the curve of the gemstone that fills his socket.

"it's a sapphire."

"a sapphire?"

"yes. it's like a precious, shiny, smooth, blue rock."

"what about the other eye, the one that's still there?"

"what about it?"

"what does it look like? what colour is it? eyes have colours, don't they?"

"they do," he says, gazing into the hypnotising shade of your own, "it's blue."

"the sky, the sea, your eyes. i think blue might be my favourite colour."

he falls asleep that night with a smile on his face

his heart relieved that you never asked him to put into words what you look like,

because there simply aren't enough words known to man,

be it in the common tongue

or high valyrian,

to describe how beautiful you are.

he tells you as much, when you do eventually ask.

in the fallout of storm's end, soaked to the bone and regretful,

it's you who his legs carry him to

your chambers, to be exact

it doesn't even cross his mind to care that his knocking at your door awakens you

he doesn't care, loses all ability to do so when he collapses into your arms

"i made a mistake," he tells you, when you ask what's wrong

"that's okay, mistakes help us learn better."

not this one, he thinks

you're so gentle with him

and your skin is so warm against his cold

that he can't help himself

his lips find yours.

his hands find your hips.

his breath gets lost somewhere between you both.

but that's okay,

you're all the air he's ever needed.

he feels selfish, when he guides you over to your bed.

and he knows he should tell you what's happened,

what's changed.

he knows he shouldn't be touching you with hands that are stained by blood.

but he's desperate,

and he's breathless,

and he's so frighteningly in love with you.

"please, aemond," it's you who begs for more.

it's you who tugs on the leather of his jerkin.

it's you who pulls at the cotton of his shirt.

it's you who he gets undressed for.

you both wind up naked upon your sheets,

limb tangled with limb.

"i wish i could see you," you tell him. "but i don't need to see you to know you're beautiful, aemond. i feel it, in everything you do for me."

so he lets his own eye shut.

decides he doesn't need to see you either,

not like this, his skin tainted with the smell of the rain, and his dragon, and the velaryon boy's scream.

and the truth is, he wants to take you like this.

he wants to be cruel, and damn you to a life by his side.

but he looks at you,

naked beneath him,

lips swollen with his kisses,

the shine of your own arousal peaking out from that space between your thighs,

and all he sees is the girl he read stories to.

the girl who swooned and awed over every cheesy line about a knight,

and all his knightly honour,

loving his lady in the way that's deemed right by the gods and the lords.

and aemond just can't bring himself to defile your honour,

not like this.

so even as you whine,

and moan,

and offer up your maidenhead on a platter of your unapologetic beauty,

the prince just continues to edge at both your own pleasures,

hips grinding back and forth,

lips tangling with your own,

voice whispering nos, and we can't do thats, and not yets.

"tomorrow," he promises, the spill of his pre-seed smearing along your pelvis with each stuttered thrust of his hardened cock against your soft skin, "i'm going to ask your father for your hand."

"but, how?" you sound so pretty, he can't help himself and lets his eye reopen, searing the haunting image of you naked and pliant beneath him into his mind's eye.. "your mother... she said you flew to offer your hand to one of the baratheon girls."

"what i promised lord baratheon was a targaryen prince, and i intend to keep that promise," he speaks with so much conviction, skipping over the events of his nephew, and his dagger, and his joyride in the sky. "daeron is a boy of sixteen, he can have her. but i, i will belong to you."

the will to leave you, maidenhead still intact, somehow finds its way into his heart

he doesn't fail to leave you sated, however,

his finger dancing along the pretty pearl that has you whining his name and losing your mind upon the mattress.

he keeps his word,

wakes not with the urgent need to discuss last night's war-inciting events with his mother

but with the burning desire to find your father and win his approval

he doesn't find him in his quarter of the keep.

or in the training yard.

or in his seat at the small council.

what he does find is his fear stricken mother,

his stoic grandfather,

his giggling brother.

"aemond, what have you done?"

he doesn't answer

they already know what he done,

the whole realm likely knows, his half-sister too.

so he asks what he really cares about,

asks where your father is.

"he's gone," his mother answers.

"after he heard about your business with lucerys," aegon continues. "the traitor's taken his family to dragonstone and bent the knee to our bastard-bearing cunt of a sister."

so yeah that's what i'm thinking about.

anyway, goodnight <33

[myladysapphire]

His Sapphire Princess (IX)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 2,455

CW: angst? some fluff (like they reunite and don't hate each other and decide to start over), tensions, refrences of past SA, not proofread!

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclaimer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

a/n i hate this, but it's kind of a filler chapter anyway

Aemond

Aemond had been both eager and nervous for her return.

Though counting down the days, planning on how he would greet you, he also was scared.

He know she felt ignored by him, betrayed by how he had just stopped replying to her letters. Ignored her name days, ignored her completely.

But that was not entirely true.  He had wanted so badly to reply, writing letter upon letter, though some were just mindless scribbles. But not once did he find he wrote a letter worthy of her, worthy of the emotions he felt. He needed space and he had shown he needed it in the worse possible way.

He had hated how he knew some version of her, a guarded version. Her letters expressing less and less, over time just mere updates of her life before stopping altogether. And he hated that the version she knew of him was the scared little boy he had tried so hard to get ride of.

The version of Aemond he had gotten ride of, in all ways but with her. He wanted to be the old Aemond with her, but hated that he did. It was why he needed the space, the time to heal, the time to become the man he is today.

But as he stood in the training yard, staring at her as she talked to him, so ddiffernt, so cold.

He knew he made a mistake.

She was so different, she had changed, and not just her personality.

But her looks also. Gods she was the most stunning and beautiful woman he had ever seen, he had always thought it impossible for her to become more beautiful.

But her beauty was clouded by the look in her eyes, the anger, the hurt and the loneliness.

She looked so alone, even as she walked out the courtyard with her brothers, laughing. She same old melodic laugh that could capture a room. The loneliness ceased slightly when he looked into them, as if she was finally being seen.

He understood. There eyes always talked to each other, expressing their true emotions, it why he knew his eyes mirrored hers, but they also showed another emotion, regret.

Regret for reading your letters time and time again, annotating them as if they were quotes from his favourite novel. Regret from the stack of unsent letters he kept in his bedside draw.

Each filled with his thoughts. Most mindless scribbles, unfished letters ending with angry scribbled out words as words escaped him, as  fear filled him.

He had tried to write of the events in his life even detailing his fights with Ser Criston, his rides with Vaghar, the books he read. And yet he could never send them, fear of her seeing his liefe and not understanding why he needed the space, or fear that he would see the darkest parts of his mind grew as the years went on. The sweet kind boy she had once new fading, and a cruel, vengeful man taking his place.  

He had once longed to be a protector, her sworn sword, doing good in her name. now…now he revelled in fear. He loved how the woman would run at the sight of his sapphire eye, a sight he knew deep down she never would. He revelled in revenge, revenge by going to the brothel, the place of his hurt, and burning it.

It was ruthless, but the second he had done it, he felt free, healed.

And yet fear still gripped at him, fear of wheat you know thought of him.

Fear that she would not accept the new him, but as he had started at you he felt like the old sweet Aemond was still in there somewhere, but only for her, his Sapphire.

Watching her sway away he knew he had limited time, this week was the first week of their official courtship, but the week after they would begin the moon long celebrations for their wedding.

Celebrations were they would spend day after day, hour after hour together being the perfect couple.

And he didn’t want it to be an act.

He had returned to his rooms, opening his bedside draw, but instead of reaching for her letter he reached for his own, and realised what he wanted to do.

He waited, two days. Two days of agony.

He had somehow hoped those two days he would be able to approach her, talk to her. But now, all he could was watch her. Watch her spend day after day in someone else’s company

Whether it was one of the tens of ladies begging for her favour and chance at becoming her lady, or her brother Jace, or even Aegon.

Gods he had forgotten about Aegon’s obsession with her. He knew they wrote, Aegon often bragging about it. With Aegon telling him about her, their little jokes, their shared secrets.

Not that he was jealous, no. He was not jealous of how Aegon seemed to act as if they were betrothed to each other. For two days they seemed to walk everywhere together, sit with each other at dinners. Though her eyes were often searching for Aemond’s, Aegon’s eyes were always firmly planted on her. And whenever she wasn’t with him, he was like a lost pup, waiting for her to appear.

Those two days, though never alone they often found the other staring, their mouths would being to form words that they were never able to form. And so he finally built up the courage and sent her his letters.

Visenya

When she had received Aemond’s letters she did not know what to expect.

They had appeared on her dresser, all 112 of them. Though some were scrapes of paper with random thoughts scribbled across them. One just one word repeated, 110 times.

Her name written, again and again, in the same neat, perfect handwriting Aemond had always had.

She then realised what this was, an apology.

She found the first letter he wrote that was left unsent, and she felt her heart break.

Dearest Visenya,

I am so sorry, I can not say why it has taken so long for me to only now reply.

Prepahs it was the guilt.

I never should of come to Winterfell, You had been kind and sweet, but I fear your kindness is unwarranted. I do not desire pity, I regret coming that night, I regret allowing you to see me so weak and scared. My whole life I have sworn to be your protector, your sword. And that night as I cried in your arms I felt like a small child, I felt smaller than when I did when Lucerys tore out my eye. And I hated it.

I have tried to look past it, look at it in away where I do not come across a whiny little boy and I am nothing but ashamed.

I had hoped to write you, bragging of my successes and yet all I can do I wallow In self pity at how I acted that night.

It matters not that I bested ser Criston for the first time, or how often I ride Vaghar.

For all I can think about it the look of pity you gave me.I do not need nor want your pity, my sapphire.

You gave me a place to stay and a place to cry, but I shall make it clear to you that the Aemond you saw that night is long gone. And shall never return. He can never return, not for you not for anyone.

So sweet, I shall not answer your request to come to Winterfell, I need the space, the time and so do you.

I fear distance is what we need, though we may hate it, I need to become Prince Aemond, and not just scared little Aemond, the boy who lost is eye, the boy who cried in your arms.

Yours, whether I say it or not,

Aemond

Dearest Visneya,

It has been near six moons since I last wrote you, and you are writing less and less.

I have been cruel, I know. I have ignored you in the favour of bettering myself.

I do not deserve you, or your kindness even still.            

You seem to be doing well, a fact I envy not too see. But I myself am not.

I miss you more and more each day, I find myself looking for you ate very turn. And yet it has been over a year since you were at the red keep.

So much has changed, Aegon and Heleana are to wed soon, I have started training with a real sword.

I no longer wake in sweats from that night.

So much has changed and yet I have so little words to say, I hate it!

I used to have all the words in the world for you, never once fearing how you viewed me. For I knew how you viewed me then.

And now I fear you will judge me.

Hate me.

Resent me.

I fear I have become a stranger, and yet I have a dozen unsent letters all addressed to you, read and read time and time again your own.

I know you, and I fear you.

Fear your opinion of me, how you view me.

I fear-      

Most of his letters just ended, frustration finding him far to quickly, some were just mindless words and phrases.

Visenya,

I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you  I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you .

Some were hateful, words said in anger, at how she still cared.

Dear Visenya,

Stop writing me.

How long must I ignore you to realise I want not to know you as we once did.

How am I to become the man you desire we spend all our time writing each other, stuck in our silly little heads!

Then gossip filled the red keep, gossip that Cregan had asked for your hand.

Visneya,

please, my sapphire, I beg of you do not marry him!

Your mother bids it but I do not!

Please.

And then her letters had stopped and he left once last letter to her.

Visneya,

Please, don’t stop writing me!

I know I have not been a friend to you but a stranger but without your letters the world has stopped.

I now I am a hypocrite, a hypocrite who cannot find the words. Who never has been able to speak his feelings, but show them.

I know not of a gesture to prove I want you till, I crave you and I need you.

but please, I cannot live without you, knowing you, please.

Please!

forever your Aemond.

Gods, she thought, he had to been hurt. Though not by her, and she had resented him for it. Resented how he had opened up to her, and then abandoned her ignored her for so long.

She knew it was hard for, he was never one for words. Gestures yes, but words? They always frustrated him, he could never formulate his feelings and yet this, the scribbled erratic thoughts and letters, unedited and rushed. They showed so much but also so little.

She has spent the whole day reading those letters, seeing no one bar her maid delivering her meals. And had it not been for her mother coming to grab her for dinner, demanding her presence, she would have sat on her thoughts all day and night.

But as she was sat next to Aemond she realised she would have less time to think on what Aemond’s gesture meant and what it meant for them.

“Aemond” she greeted, flipping her hair to the side as she sat.

“Senya” he greeted in response, eyes firmly on her.

 She squirmed in her seat, unsure on where to start. “Senya” he said again, capturing her attention, as they made eye contact some tension left her body.

“why?” she asked, its all she could think of, why?

He coughed awkwardly, clearly not expecting this conversation now, “I was never one for words, Visneya. But gestures, have always been something I excel at.” He moved his head closer to her, their conversation too private for prying eyes. “ I never should have ignored you, I know realise, it hurt us both, more than I ever thought” he shifted in his seat “seeing the look in your eyes when you arrived and realising I had made a mistake”

She nodded, urging him on, as she began to plate up her food.

“I focused solely on myself, I was selfish, but I won’t lie to you, my sapphire”

My sapphire, she liked that.

“I have become selfish and cruel, I have become a man who craves fear, but not from you, never from you”

“then what do you want from me?” she asked softly, before nervously looking to make sure no one else was listening to their conversation. “you did not want companionship from me, you ignored me for years on end, and yet by the end of the moon we will be wed!” she took a breath “if you have truly become selfish, and cruel, how do I know that it is for your betterment? And how will I know that you wont ever make me fear you?”

“because I became that person, so that I never have to feel fear again, feel the fear I felt at Driftmark, at that… at that brothel” she sighed, taking her hand in his “ I want to be your protector, it is all I have ever wanted, and how could I become that if I remained that scared, naïve little boy?”

Everything he was saying was true, but it also made her realize she did not know him anymore.

She breathed in “perhaps we should start over? Get to know one another again?”

He nodded, “I would like that”

next part

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