#i have not forgotten WoT

[markantonys]

i'm rereading the garden scene and i'd completely forgotten about this moment of gawyn just totally losing his marbles over rand i'm HOWLING the case for (onesided & unknown-to-rand) randwyn gets stronger every day

[popsicle-stick]

sumer is icumen in innit

[onaperduamedee]

I am having tons of feelings about how mischievous and teasing and at ease Moiraine and Rand are together now and how this coincides with him being at peace with the contradicting parts of himself.

[alectology-archive]

I’ve been Enabled. Anyway, click for clarity:

the distance between any two characters also indicates roughly how explicitly romantic their dynamic is. 

extra notes under the cut:

I don’t personally care for moiraine/thom, but narratively speaking I think two daes dae’mar bitches being paired off would’ve been very cool. if rj could write romances.

nynaeve/mat is a crackship mostly - but is it???

egwene/perrin is applicable mostly only for the first book.

mat is attracted to semirhage when she’s in disguise.

I personally don't care for mentor-mentee relationships so I've excluded all of those (i.e. rand/moiraine). Birgitte and elayne also technically have an explicitly sibling-like relationship but I do recall picking up romantic undertones when I first read the fires of heaven so I’ve left that in anyway.

so “questionable” generally describes a variety of dynamics that’s open to personal interpretation but ones that also involve potentially questionable dynamics (ie morgase/thom is tagged that because they have a wild age gap). even if they’re canon.

aravine is not a darkfriend. in MY heart.

I'm sorry. Aviendha sleeps with Rand (and they're both TOTALLY in love with Elayne), Min is pining for Rand, and Elayne just bonded Birgitte as her Warder??? Exactly how big is this polycule???

[pinkslaystation]

No longer a memory [Simon 'Ghost' Riley]

You are reading: [Part 2] Read [Part 1] here! Word Count: 1.4k You viewed Simon as your friend, but clearly he did feel the same.

When Ghost was asked about his emergency contact, he mentioned Soap's name.

"You can't put down another soldier, mate. Gotta be yer ma or summit." His higher-ups informed him.

"Why no'?" He grumbled, leaning against the wall in the dingy office.

"Wot if you're on a mission with 'im? Wot if he's injured too? Hm? Just do me a favour and put down yer missus, will ya."

Ghost rolled his eyes in annoyance, slamming the door shut as he walked out. With an important mission coming soon, it was vital that everything was in order before they left.

He just doesn't get it. Why does a skilled killer like him need an emergency contact? He's only been fatally injured once, and when they contacted his previous emergency number back then, was it really a big deal with someone at the nearest Maccies picked up?

Gaz frequently laughs at him, "Tried to call your mother, ordered a quarter pounder instead." It's a running joke in the team.

Ghost skims through his phone contacts, and he's embarrassed to see how few numbers he has: 5 being his teammates including Gaz, Soap and Price, one being KFC, one being his mother which he had saved under Slag. He scrolls up and down rapidly, debating to himself, should he just give them a fake number?

No...they'd find out again.

He clicks under the spam numbers.

His eyes shift to a familiar number.

It was yours.

The monotonous ticking of the clock paired with the irregular typing of the keyboards were burnt into your brain unknowingly. You've lost count of the number of days you've been in the menial job now, your first job since graduating university. How long have you been with that company, 2 years? 602 days now? You're counting the days 'til the weekend but even during that, you've got no one to come home to.

What a pathetic life.

Sometimes you wonder what Simon was doing in that exact moment was he working like you? Was he also in London? Did he...think of you, the way you think of him? It's possible he's forgotten, I mean after 5 years you've lost contact with the majority of your classmates- so much for best friends for life.

You check your phone, 9:28 P.M. 2 more minutes and you're running out of there.

By the time it hits 11 P.M., you're tucked away in bed a movie playing the background as you're aimlessly listening to reddit stories on TikTok whilst watching a minecraft speedrun.

You switch to using Instagram, by that I mean stalking. Your friends seems to be growth further away from you, one sending you an e-invite to their wedding, one welcoming their 1st child into their families, and yet you're still hung over about the last day of secondary school. The way the last time you had seen him had been in form, when he glances at you walking in late. The way his hands would purposely linger against yours when you were asked to hand out sheets to the class.

The mere thought of him jolted you. That, and the sound of your phone ringing.

It was an unknown number.

There's a hitch in your breathing. Was this a sign? What's the phrase, speak of the devil and he has appear? Was it perhaps...Simon?

You wait for a minute before picking up, not wanting to come across as desperate.

"...Hello?" You murmur.

"Hey." The voice is harsh and cold. It reminded you of Simon.

"Simon?" You whisper, a smile appearing on your face.

There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"What? No- Alan. From Accounting. You left some documents here at work, they seem important. You gonna pick 'em up?"

You blink. Once again your're stuck in another fantasy. In what world would it be Simon? The man who couldn't even reply to your texts in summer holidays. The man who wouldn't even attempt to return a full smile when you locked eyes in the corridor. The man you shouldn't have feelings for. Because, well, it's not like they were ever reciprocated.

What a pathetic life.

Alan, the dickhead from Accounting interrupts yet again. "Yo, you there? Wan' me to bin them?"

You sit up in your bed, sighing deeply uncomfortable, "Pull up your pants man, I'll be there in 30, Jesus. Just leave them on my desk."

Question. What's short but intense, most people dislike it, but you find it thrilling? One would think a conversation with Simon. But the answer is: London traffic.

You'd assume the usually busy roads to be dead and empty at 11:30 P.M. ish, but you're heavily mistaken, my friend. Seems like London nights are the life of the party. Driving past busy clubs and lit up pubs, whilst listening to One Of The Girls by The Weeknd [SUCH A GOOD SONG-] made you feel like a movie star in a coming of age film.

One where the guy gets the girl.

Of course, the majority of the drive you've being beeped at, or you're doing the beeping, but it's what really appealed to you when making the move to the heart of London. Life moves on whether you want or not, might at well be at the capital of England. Though sometimes you feel you're more likely to run into Simon in the north...

By the time you reach the entrance of your workplace, you begin regretting your outfit decisions, making eye contact with yourself in the reflection of the glass doors: A black hoodie and flared joggers. Nothing wrong in the clothing of course, but compared to the Data Analysts and Investment Bankers that are judging you right now, it makes you feel like the smallest person in the room.

Just a elevator ride up, grabbing your shit, another ride down, brisk walking to the car, and you can go back to the comfort of your bed. Easy, no?

You're in the elevator finally. The weird look from the receptionist really was the cherry on the cake.

Soon enough, the doors open again at the 9th floor, and you're met with the dark room of your department, which only had 2 of your colleagues slaving away at their desks, one which you're 99% sure is rotting away as they type on their keyboard.

You briefly nod at the two as they look up from the elevator doors opening, to which they returned.

Where's that file, where's the fucking file. You mumble to yourself, sifting through all the papers from your desk. The rotting lady looks up to you, shushing you for the noise.

Yeah, if only you had the courage to shush your toxic-ass husband...You think. Soon we'll hear your reddit story next to some trashy ass run on Subway Surfers on Tiktok...

The way down the elevator was excruciatingly slow, which was odd considering it was working perfectly fine 5 minutes ago.

The doors open again, at the 8th floor and 3 analysts walk into the once quiet elevator, and now you're face to face with the loud chatter of clients, and business meetings and...who left a mess in the men's toilets...

A phone rings again, and the analysts all search their coats, thinking it was theirs.

Not me.

Neither.

How is there service in this elavator-

Someone coughs, and you open your eyes from drowsiness, the 3 business musketeers silently urging you to pick up your from and rid them off that irritating ring tone.

Silently apologising, you bring your phone out of your hoodie pocket. It's another unknown number.

With no hesitation this time, just pure frustration and fatigue, you pick up the call, "Alan, I swear to God, if you're calling me again-"

Correction. There is service in the elevator. It just wasn't good.

The line breaks at the other person on the phone speaks.

"He- Co- It's an emergen- He- -mon Ril- -jury-"

"Huh?" You respond, partially not hearing as the line breaks every now and then. but also because the other 3 people decided it was okay to talk on full volume.

You try once again, "I'm sorry I can't hear you."

"Missi- crash- 3 dead- -husba"

You snort, you wish these 3 analysts were dead right now-

"-Rile- Come- t- -ocation- sen- -by text- -sband-"

The line goes dead, and you're stuck staring at your phone with more confusion than you had started. Husband?

What was that? Wrong number? No, they had addressed you by your full name. You couldn't hear much, but from what you gathered...an emergency? I mean, that alone you could tell from the shrill from the speaker's voice.

The elevator door opens again and this time, it's the ground floor and all 4 of you walk out. It looks like the scene where the rich, popular characters make a grand entrance, straight out of a K-drama, except one person clearly missed the memo about dressing formally.

You check your phone's call log, debating whether to call them back.

Before you can lock your phone and shove it back into your phone, it dings again, a text from the very number. They've given you a location. A quick search on your phone, shows you google images of an army training ground. You check the time. It's just past midnight.

Looks like you're going on an adventure.

The drive to the army grounds was shorter than Google Maps had said, and now you're parked on the side of the roads waiting for the gates to be opened.

Theories are racing through your head right now, who do you know that's in the military currently?

Your coworkers? No.

Your university friends? No.

Your secondary school classmates? No.

Simon? Can't be.

The gates open, and you drive to the 2 men standing by the doors to the building, one is dressed like a doctor, the other? Like Stalin.

You get out of your car worried, "Hi, someone called over the phone?"

"Aah, yes. Mrs Riley. A pleasure to meet you. I mean I didn't think you were even going to come." He turns to the doctor.

You don't fail to hear the words exchanged between the both of them.

"What if she works at Maccies as well...she's dressed like it-" he murmurs, smiling at you widely.

The doctor on the other hand, seems to be more tense about the situation, "Sir, can we just send her in already, it's 1 A.M., I got a family to go home to-"

"Wasn't your wife cheating on you though-"

"Sir- How do you know- Okay, Miss. Mrs... Riley, was it?" The doctor turns to you.

You raise an eyebrow at him, "No. Um, no. My first name's not Riley, it's-"

"Will you just follow us. Please."

The inside of the building was almost the opposite than the outside, a loud brightly lit environment with crowds of doctors and nurses rushing around, compared to the silent dark grounds.

"Sorry, where are we going exactly?" You question, as the two men walk in front of you.

"You're handling the news better than I expected, Riley." The military leader (?) notes.

What news?

"What news?"

There's no follow up answer, instead they lead you to a quiet corridor, just outside a room, to which they gesture you to open. The doctor reads from a file, "He's going to be fine, just a few cuts and bruises-"

You interrupt, "I'm sorry?"

"What he's trying to say- we found him unconscious, seems like he inhaled too much of the gas. Thought he was in grave danger. Wasn't responding to anything. Broken rib cage, but he'll be fine. He always is, this man."

The doctor agrees with the solider.

"Indeed, a few months of bed rest, and he's be back in better shape."

The two stare at you, as you look at them with an unreadable expression.

"...And...I'm here because?"

They share a confused look.

"You're his wife, no? His emergency contact? That's what Simon said at le-"

"Si-Si-Simon?"

One second you're at home, the next you're a work again, and now you're in the bathroom with your head in your hands, sitting on the toilet lid, panic pulsating through your blood. For some reason, you can't find it in yourself to tell the truth, that you're not Simon's wife, so instead you pussied out and excused yourself to the nearest bathroom.

The good thing is, the 2 men believe you're crying over Simon's injuries, the bad thing is that he's awake. And he's been made aware of the call to his emergency contact: his wife.

"Good to say you mate. Called your wife. Sensitive one, that. Rushed-"

Simon breaks out of his dazed look. "Wife?" He barks.

The doctor shares a knowingly glance to the solider, Simon's higher up. "Yes...the one under your emergency contact?"

"Wot- Oh. Er- Yeah." Simon clenches his jaw, rubbing his temple, "Did she pick up or sum-"

"No Simon, she's here. In the bathroom."

The minimal colour in Simon's pale bruised face drains out in a click, and he's staring dead straight in front of him. For a second, no one talks, there's no movement, not even a breath is exhaled. Simon's not religious but he prays the 2 can't hear his beating heart thumping rapidly.

How was do when he sees you? A smile? A wave? A 'haven't seen you in so long'? No...he selected spouse when he put your number down for his emergency contact, if anything, he's got a role to act in front of the staff and higher-ups.

There's a knock on the door that breaks the silence. The door creaks open awkwardly, and a small head peeps out.

Simon's breath hitches.

When your parents instructed you to get out fairy land, you did. You were called delusion by your friends throughout adolescence, and you're teachers feared your expectations in life were always too high.

You remember the first time your parents told you the story of how they met. In your mind it was a romantic story, two doctors meeting together for the first time in the hospital, locking eyes and blushing furiously when their fingers touched through gloved during a high-risk heart transplant surgery. So when they mentioned that it was mere 'marriage of convenience' type relationship to you, your belief of love at first sight hit the iceberg of reality and sunk. Sunk deep.

So mustering the courage shouldn't be that difficult, right? Love doesn't exist...

The first step into the hospital room felt like walking into every exam hall you've ever entered in your entire life merged into 1...times 10. Nerve-wracking was an understatement.

Your goal was to just lie and act at his wife, play pretend and hope Simon plays along with it. It's all acting.

A marriage of convenience, you could say.

"Hey, Si-"

Your breath breaks, cutting off your own words as your eyes lock with Simon's. The room seems to shrink, and the bustling noise from the hospital corridor fades into the background. Simon's gaze is intense, his usual stoic expression softening for a brief moment. It's something the doctor and the soldier haven't seen, given the 5 years of knowing SImon.

He reaches an arm out, without speaking a word.

"Oh, erm." Taking his hand, he gently drags you, motioning you to sit on the chair beside his bed. Small electric shocks course through his fingertips and into yours, a warm feeling bubbling through your chest, and you can't help but smile at the way his eyes lock onto you, as his fingers gently caress your hand.

Simon’s grip tightens ever so slightly as you sit down, his touch simultaneously reassuring and questioning. You swallow hard, nerves prickling your skin. It feels like a minute has passes by the 2 spectators in the room feel like their watching a slow-burn romance movie.

The soldier clears his throat, breaking the silence. "We’ll give you two some privacy," he says, gesturing for the doctor to follow him out. As the door clicks shut behind them, the heavy silence continues to fall over the room.

Simon’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, a gesture that feels both foreign and familiar. His mask of stoicism cracks, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath. "I didn’t think you’d come," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. Your heart rate increases with every word he speaks, the hints of his northern accent peaking through the harshness of his voice.

You smile. "Well, here I am," you reply, attempting to sound casual despite the thundering of your heart. "Guess I couldn't ignore the call of duty." Your attempt of a pathetic joke makes him grin.

Simon interlocks his fingers with yours, and you swear your body changes to manual breathing. "SImon...You don't have to act, they're not here..." You mumble.

Simon chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, usually so guarded, now seem to search yours for something unspoken. "I'm not acting... and...I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What for?" Both of your hands gently hold Simon's and you notice the way just one of his hands dwarf both of yours.

"That day...the last day. I tried to come, I swear, love. I was late-"

"I waited for you Simon." You blankly state. Simon freezes at the slight frustration in your voice, "I waited so long for you, hell, the teachers nearly kicked me out."

Simon nodding understandably, grinning slightly at the thought.

"I know. I asked our form tutor, missed ya by 15 minut-"

"Then why didn't you call me Simon? Hm?"

The lack of response let's you continue, the heat from your hands warming Simon's.

"I called you, I texted, I reached out to your friends-"

"-but it's difficult when I had none, right?" Simon cuts you off, his eyes urging you to look at the situation from his perspective, "The moment I saw you in that classroom on that first day, you were the only person that smiled at me. When I forgot my lunch, it was you that shared with me by your desks. Fuck, it's always been you, and I was too fucking embarrassed with myself to even be around someone as perfect as you."

Simon squeezes your hand as he continues.

"I didn't want you to be seen with me, because...you deserved better, love. You've always had. Good grades, good school, good life, didn't was you to be dragged down by a dick like me." He huffs out, turning away, "Signed up for the military that day, y'know. Remember when you said you wanted to just give up on your dreams of uni and jus' join the army. Just use all your frustrations on a gun or sumthing... I bulked up over that very summer."

You stifle a warm tear as it escapes and runs down your cheek.

"Wanted to be someone for you, swear down. So I signed up for the military...and I- that day. I was going to tell you...and ask you out."

Raising your eyebrows, you feel the atmosphere shifting, he continues.

"Yeah," Simon chuckles, reminiscing, "Wrote a letter cos I didn' know how to get my feelins across. But uh, I was too late. And when I asked your friend, and they told me you were moving out for uni...I just thought it was better to let my feelins die out. Didn't wan to drag you down any further..." He mumbles the last part.

A mix of emotions flood through you as Simon's words settle in the room. The weight of the years apart, the misunderstandings, and the unspoken feelings hang in the air. You take a deep breath, wiping away the tear that escaped earlier.

"Simon," you begin softly, your voice trembling with a blend of sadness and hope. "You never dragged me down. If anything, I felt lost without you."

Simon's gaze shifts back to you, eyes searching for any hint of resentment or anger. Instead, he finds warmth and understanding, a look he's not seen in years. "I thought you'd be better off without me. That you'd move on and find someone who could give you everything I couldn't."

"But I never wanted someone else," you confess, your voice firm despite the quiver in your heart. "I wanted you, Simon. Even when you weren't there, I kept hoping you'd come back. Do you know how many times I've looked at my phone hoping it was you that was calling me?"

Simon laughs, moving ever so slightly closer to you, his thumb continuing to stroke your hand, his touch grounding you both in the present moment. He takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts.

"I'm here now," he says finally, his voice steady. "And I'll call you ever chance I get. Don't want to waste any more time."

You squeeze his hand in response, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Neither do I."

Simon presses a chaste kiss against your forehead and you lean against him.

"The name Riley really does suit you, y'know." Simon whispering into your hair.

"One step at a time, Si." You whisper back, burying your smirk into the crook of his neck.

Maybe your parents were wrong, maybe love at first sight does exist.

Outside the room, the 2 men straight in awe at the couple. The doctor sighs, "No more trouble in paradis-"

The solider nudges the doctor, "You wish that was you, huh."

me rn

tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply-blog, @lunamoonbby, @nigthmar3moon, @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm, @bubusi11, @chessecakelover, @owkittie, @cheomain, @corvusmorte, @k4es, @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese, @yyiikes, @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk, @spankmydepression, @yourfavbabigirl

[soapssuds]

"psych ward patient"!simon riley x psych ward patient!reader, or in which you try to hold onto someone despite how the floor beneath you crumbles.

cw | an abusive nurse (what the nurse does though is not described)

You glanced across the dining hall, your focus on someone who you have noticed before but never had the courage to talk to. You heard the rumors about him. About him being someone from the military, though others say he made the whole thing up.

You don't know how long you've been staring until he is staring right back, seemingly being able to feel your gaze. And instead of doing the "normal" thing and looking away, you continue your unabashed staring.

He wore a sort of mask, your nurse telling you that it was called a balaclava. You asked if you could get one too, but she merely glared at you which shut you up quickly. Your nurse was mean, so you tried to get on her good side as soon as possible and as often too.

It wasn't until you saw him get up from his table (plate of food in hand) and walk towards you did you break out of your thoughts. And, in silence, he had plopped down in front of you in the empty seat.

You continued to stare before deciding to finally open your mouth.

"I like your balaclava!"

Your voice echoed a bit. More than you intended it to.

He grunted out a thank you before turning his attention back to his food, a free hand rising up to pull at the fabric so his mouth was free.

You were quick to notice a scared.

"Wot got you starin' so hard?"

His accent was the first thing to hit you. You wondered where he was from.

"I thought you were pretty."

"Pretty," he parrots, almost like a scoff.

"Mm, when you first got here and weren't allowed the mask. Thought you were pretty. Wanted to tell you, but didn't know how."

He studied you for a moment. His analytical eyes making you feel just a tad bit too self conscious. It felt like he could see everything for what you are... and for what you weren't.

"Your voice is pretty too," you suddenly said.

That was another thing about you. In tense situations and in one's where it was getting suffocating or awkward, you would blurt out whatever you were thinking. A terrible habbit. But you hate being stared at despite staring at others so often yourself.

Just as he was about to say something, your nurse came to retrieve you. Her glare telling you everything you needed to know.

"You. Up."

She barked out those words as if commanding a dog. You could never handle it when someone was yelling at you. Your body always seemed to shut down the moment someone raises their voice at you.

And when you didn't budge, a guard came up to you and grabbed a strong hold onto your wrist to drag you along. Your food long forgotten as the nurse let out an angered huff and quickly followed after.

Simon was left to his questions before someone else sat next to him, "shame, guess she got caught again."

"Caught for wot?"

The new patient who sat next to Simon gave him a sad smile, "that lady nurse is super strict. It's not fun at all in her unit. Doesn't even let patients keep personal items. y/n, though, likes to read, and y/n always gets into trouble when the nurse finds a book in their room. Takes out her anger on y/n, too."

Simon looked to the doors that you, the guard, and the nurse disappeared behind.

"Best not to follow. It'll be over soon."

And true to the patients words, you came back. A little shaken and scared then before. Arms hugging close to your body and legs quivering like a newborn deer. And the quiver didn't do much to hide the slight limp.

Simon wasn't an idiot. He already knew what happened behind closed doors.

"Oh? Still here? Though you would go back to your original table," you said with such a timid voice than from before. It made something within him ache.

"D' you want me t' go back t' my own table?"

You shook your, "no, no! Please...please stay for a while longer?"

Simon nodded, his food already gone and his mask already situated back into place, and stayed.

Originally, he was here for an undercover mission. His target still far from reach.

"No one will even know you don't belong!"

Johnny that bastard.

What Simon didn't expect was to meet you. Well, see you from a distance and be hyper aware of your stare of him the moment he got here. Truth be told, he thought you were with the target. The two of you working together in the safety confines of the psych ward.

Though, the more he silently observed, the more obvious it became that you were just a patient. An innocent little thing being tortured by the ones who claim to be helping.

So maybe after this shitshow of a mission is over, he can take you with him. Maybe even take care of that nurse for you, too.

[fandoms--fluff]

Nightmare

Part 2

Kid!Fem!Reader x Damon!Salvatore x Stefan!Salvatore

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of boobs, mentions of sex, blood ig

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's 2:30am and your thrashing around in your bed, crying. Your dreaming about some time in the early 1890's when you were kidnapped by a vampire hunter, he was torturing you. He was using vervain ropes to tie you up and stab wood through you, getting closer to your heart every time. You did eventually get away but the dream is recapping every part of the torture that happened.

At some point you started to scream. Katherine came running in as fast as she could since the room she's staying in is right next to yours.

"Hey, hey, hey y/n wake up" she said, shaking you.

Once you woke up and saw Katherine sitting at the edge of the bed beside you, you jumped into her arms. Your head resting on her shoulder, crying your eyes out.

"Were you having a bad dream, hun?" Katherine asked rubbing your back.

You nodded feverishly. "You want to talk about it?"

"Wan' Stefy and Damy" you whined and then nuzzled your head into her chest.

Without much thought and because your tired, you started to trace the curves of her boobs from the cleavage of her top. Katherine looked at you and smiled, holding back a laugh. She stood up and started walking to Stefan's room with you in her grasp, continuing the movements of tracing her breasts.

You guys finally got to Stefan's room and right as she was about to turn the doorknob she heard noises of him and Elena having sex.

"Okay, how about we go see Damon instead" Katherine looked to where now you started to suck on your index and middle fingers.

She just decided to let that be Damon's problem, knowing there was a high chance of you biting her fingers. Now she was heading to Damon's room and opened the bed, going inside.

Katherine went over to his bed and placed you on it, making sure you couldn't fall off before waking him up.

"Damon!" All he did was just grunt and turn the other way. "Damon wake up! y/n had a nightmare" that woke him up and he sat up to see you and Katherine.

You rushed and climbed into Damon's lap, still crying. "I'll leave you two alone now" Katherine said while she left, going back to her room.

"What was your dream about y/n/n?" Damon asked, trying to pull your fingers out of your mouth.

You tried to bite him but stopped when he gave you a 'don't even think about it or else' look.

"Mean 'erson hur' me. Burn a wot and awmost kiwl me" you said with a sob.

Damon looked down at you with widened eyes, thinking you would've forgotten about that experience by now. "Oh bub, it's okay. I promise that will never happen to you again" Damon said, reassuring you.

You looked up at him and he wiped the tears off your face with his thumbs. "Pwomise?" You asked.

"I promise" He said and kissed your forehead.

Not so long after, you fell asleep Damon noticed Alaric leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. Damon just rolled his eyes while Alaric walked in going over to him.

"That was cute and impressive" he said to Damon.

"Well she's my baby sister. Literally" Damon said nodding down to where you were now sucking your thumb, leaning against his chest.

Damon laid down with you still laying on his chest, pulling a blanket up. “So are you just going to stand there and stare at us sleeping?” Damon said while closing his eyes. 

 Alaric softly smiled again then left, closing the door on his way out, going back to bed.

In the morning (later)

Every one is now  awake and downstairs, Bonnie and Elena making breakfast. At first Tyler was helping but then got kicked out after almost starting a fire on the counter somehow. Stefan was sitting on one of the couches with a mug of coffee and realized that it was way too quiet.

“Hey where’s Damon?” To Stefan’s question everyone looked around the room, not seeing him. 

Katherine just chuckled and everyone turned their heads towards her suspiciously. “What?” She asked.

“What did you do?” Stefan started to walk over to her.

“She didn’t do anything.” “Yeah, listen to Mister history teacher over there” Katherine said with a smirk. 

“Just go to his room and you’ll see why, it’s cute” Stefan listened to her and sped up to Damon’s room. 

“It is never a good sign when you say something is cute” Elena said walking over and sitting on the couch opposite from her, with a plate of the food her and Bonnie just finished.

“If you don’t believe me just wait until the three of them come down here” She said back to Elena.

“Three? Is y/n with Damon?” Tyler asked and Katherine just nodded.

Soon Stefan and Damon came down the stairs with you in Damon’s arms, leaning on his shoulder, still half asleep. 

“Was she with you the whole night?” Stefan asked as Damon sat down next to Bonnie.

“Yup, she had a nightmare, Katherine brought her to my room at like two in the morning, crying” He said, starting to play with your hair.

“Wait was y/n crying or was Katherine?” Jeremy asked confused, while grabbing some of the food.

“y/n” Katherine said glaring at him. 

You looked up, hearing your name being said, rubbing your eyes with closed fists cutely. You then were staring at some fruit on Bonnies plate. “Do you want a piece of pineapple?” Bonnie asked you.

You nodded your head and bonnie handed you a piece, you started to chew it and after a couple seconds brought your hands up and spat it out into them. Making a disgusted facial expression. Damon immediately carried you over to the sink in the kitchen to wash your hands, getting all the chewed up pineapple off. He also grabbed a paper towel to wipe your chin.

“Alright you don’t like pineapple, noted” Damon said and walked back into the room where everyone else is, everyone now finished their food. “Down p’ease” You mumbled.

He set you down and you went over to Elena, making grabby hand motions. Elena smiled and picked you up, setting you on her lap. Damon sat down, looking offended because you picked you’d rather go to Elena than stay with him.

You turned to face her and saw her necklace. You reached a hand out and touched the necklace but then quickly took back your hand, burned by vervain. Your eyes started to water and Elena pulled you into a hug and started to rub your back. 

“I’m sorry” Elena whispered.

You rested your head on her shoulder and started to trace the curve of her boobs showing. Everyone started staring at what your doing and Elena looked confused before Stefan came over lifting you up, placing you on his hip.

You looked at him with a pout on your face. “Where did you even- why?” Stefan asked while Caroline chuckled at what you just did. 

“Hmmmm I wonder where?” Katherine said smirking at Stefan then Elena. 

“What are you talking about?” Elena asked.

“The fact that last night she started to do that exact same thing to me last night and then when I got to your room you guys were having sex. Also just the fact that she’s related to Damon” Katherine said and you started to kick Stefan to let you down.

Everyone stared shocked at the couple while Stefan let you down. “What did I say about the kicking yesterday?” Stefan said crouched down to your level.

“yes kicking” You said with a smile and ran over to Alaric, clinging to his legs.

“I’m pretty sure that won’t sink into her mind anytime soon” Caroline said and went over to you lifting you up from where you were holding on for dear life to Alaric’s legs.

“Wow she has a strong grip” He said, surprised. 

When Caroline sat back down you started to play with her hair and brought it up to your nose to sniff it. “Smell ‘ood” you said looking up at her.

“I think she likes your hair” Tyler said.

“Don’t be a smart ass” Bonnie said to him.

“ass!” You exclaimed, excitedly.

“No, remember what I said yesterday if you said a bad word?” Stefan said, looking at you. 

Again Jeremy and Tyler were laughing, not helping at all. You look confused at Stefan’s question, your head laid down against Caroline’s chest. 

“Well what I remember is that if you said a bad word you get time with a bar of soap in your mouth” Stefan said. 

“Okay. I no say bad word” You glumly answered your brother.

Meanwhile Elena got a text. “Guys, it’s Elijah. He said we need to meet up. Like now” Said Elena, standing up.

[hobiebrownismygod]

(today is a day for ideas, good Jesus)

This is like my third ask today but I have so many ideas and I have to write them down or I'll forget. Sorry you have to face the blunt of it. This request is kinda sad, that's also my fault

Hobie Brown x reader but where reader had a crush on him but Hobie never seemed to notice but after she gets fed up with it and moves on. After she does this she's much more natural and sure of herself because she's not trying to impress him anymore, that's when he starts to fall for her too.

Please tell me someone else can even slightly see this vision

Thank you, take as long as you need

And I hope you a happy time

I'm gonna turn this request into a two-part fic because I don't think I'll be able to get the whole plot into one lol 😭 thank you for requesting!!

Forgotten Girl Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader Part 1/2

Synopsis: You got tired of running after someone who wasn't interested, so you stopped...only for him to gain interest right afterwards.

WC: <;1k

TW: unedited, somewhat angst/pining, femreader

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @spiderrinn @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0ubl-tr0ubl3 @lauryn2558 @sunasslut69 @ask-1610-miles @axels-garden @s6onder

PREV|NEXT(Coming soon)

TAGLIST ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── MASTERLIST

He never noticed you. No matter how many times you made eye contact with him, waved at him, batted your eyes at him, put your hand on his shoulder, giggled at one of his stupid jokes, he never ever seemed to realize you were there.

Of course...he noticed you...but he didn't notice you. His head never turned when you walked into the room, he never looked at you longer than he had to, and worst of all, he called you his mate.

The most platonic term you could call someone.

Mate.

Never darling, never love, never sweetheart.

Mate.

"Oi, whatcha doin' there mate?"

You snapped your head to the side to see none other than Hobie Brown, looking over your shoulder with a slight smile on his face, squinting to read the words on the page of the book you were reading.

You flinched forward slightly, not having expected him, before giving him an awkward smile. "Just reading. You?"

"Just watching you." he replied with a friendly grin before glancing back towards where he'd come from. "You haven't seen Gwendy or Pav around anywhere, have you?"

Your expression deflated. "I think I saw Gwen walk past a couple minutes ago. She was heading towards Miguel's room." You said softly, looking back down at your book and crossing your legs together, trying to bite back the waver appearing in your voice.

"Mmm." he nodded, looking back over his shoulder at you. "You here all by y'self?"

"Yep. All by myself." You said as you cleared your throat. His expression softened slightly and he walked back over towards you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his vest. "You alright?"

"Fine. Why do you ask?" You tried to avoid his eyes, keeping your head buried in your book.

"I just-" He hesitated, "I don't think I've ever talked to you alone before. You're acting a bit...shy."

"I'm not shy." You mumbled, glaring back up at him. "Of course not." He replied, shooting you a sly grin. "Can't blame me for wondering though. You barely say a word to me, so I can't read y'like I can all the others."

"I talk to you often."

"Really?"

"I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?"

He chuckled deeply, looking down and shaking his head for a moment. "Cheeky." You felt your face heat up and you immediately looked back down, clearing your throat. "Hobie?"

"Yeah?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at you playfully.

"You ever thought about being in a relationship?" You asked awkwardly.

"Wot?" He blinked, a smile spreading across his face. "Where'd that come from?"

You clasped your hands together with an embarrassed expression, staring straight at the ground. "I dunno. Just did."

"Well...I s'pose. I never really thought about it. I don't think anyone'd have me to be honest." He laughed. "What about you, mate?"

"I'm sure someone'd take you." You replied, ignoring how he shot your question back at you. "I mean, look at you." You immediately swallowed, looking back down as the weight of your words suddenly collapsed onto your shoulders.

He didn't seem to notice, simply laughing and nodding. "I am a bit of a looker, aren't I?" He teased, standing up straight. "It's all part of the Spider-punk charm." he winked.

"I agree." you smiled gently, looking up at him. You were being fairly obvious at this point, but he still didn't seem to be taking the hint.

That was how it'd always been. It was like he couldn't dream of being with you. He never seemed to notice your badly-disguised glances and awkward giggles. The way you'd adjust your suit when he walked by, looking down at the ground when he was in front of you and almost always refusing to make eye contact.

It was so obvious and still wouldn't realize.

In fact, the conversation was beginning to get tiring. The two of you simply continued, with your attempts at flirting quickly being shut down by how normal he was being.

"I think you'd make a great partner." You'd say, giving him a crystal clear smile, only to be met with a, "Oh definitely. Whoever I end up with is gonna be lucky."

The conversation would continue on...

"Very lucky. I'd kill to be in their position."

"Ha! You're a funny one, mate."

There was nothing you could do in response besides nod and smile, silently begging for some sort of escape. It was so embarrassing that you just couldn't handle it anymore.

And this happened every damn time.

Honestly...was there even a point anymore? It was starting to look like he'd never catch your drift.

Maybe he knew. Maybe he just didn't like you that way.

Yes, that was probably it. There's no way a normal person wouldn't be able to take a hint so obvious...he just wasn't interested.

Sad. But understandable.

"Weren't you looking for Gwen and Pav?" You said quickly, interrupting him. He raised a brow slightly, his expression lighting up. "Oh, right! I'll go find them then. See you around, mate."

He tipped his head towards you and gave you a smile. You returned it, your expression immediately dropping the moment he turned away. You watched his lanky figure leave, releasing your breath in a long deep sigh.

There was no point.

It just...wasn't meant to be.

He didn't notice you.

And he never would.

[carnivorousmossbeast]

Transit

no content warnings

Summary: John “Soap” MacTavish & Simon “Ghost” Riley wait for a military convoy. Ghost finds out Soap knows a song that isn’t “Anarchy in the UK” by the Sex Pistols.

The only thing cutting through the silence of the pre-dawn darkness was the lieutenant opening and closing his mouth, clacking his bloody tongue piercing against his teeth — mindless and heedless of the phantom pain shooting through Soap’s mouth every time it happened. The wet sounds of lips parting, smacking, tongue licking and detaching from soft, spit-slicked gums were driving Soap up the walls.

“Gum?” There lieutenant’s voice cut through Soap’s unease.

“Gum- what?”

“Did ye want any?” Ghost asked, producing a sliver-wrapped strip from somewhere. Mysterious pocket candy, as likely to be fresh as it might have been plucked from a dead Russian operative seven months ago, and Ghost had simply forgotten to empty his pockets before laundry. Juicy Fruit mixed with old pocket sweat stains and Persil detergent didn’t seem like a flavour to chase the miserably watered down and microwaved coffee sachet he’d called his breakfast because mess didn’t open until five. Two full hours before they were scheduled to leave. Soap sighed and turned his face towards the window. They were supposed to be out on the road already, but the fucking convoy of course ran late — and now all they could do was stare at the silent radio and wait. He hated these hours wasted in limbo.

Ghost seemed oddly calm, for once. Aside from the whole mouth-smacking of course. Soap wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. Perhaps the situation had him more on edge than usual.

“Bother ye if I start the motor?” Soap asked. The windows were fogging up and the used air was making him sleepier than it should, although given the three thirty wakeup call he decided to cut himself some slack. Still, being this tired without the convoy having reached base yet, let alone getting a move on, it didn’t seem like his best idea.

“Keep the lights down. Lieutenant Morrison gets weird about his boys and they’re facing us.” The lieutenant wiggled his leg. “Tell me about your basic,” Ghost finally asked.

“Wot? Story time because ye’s types didn’t have a good sergeant in basic?” Soap snorted. Ghost did that thing he liked to do where he could be staring at Soap, at Soap’s bones and nerves and delicate blood vessels, or something not-Soap which just so happened to occupy the same space as Soap. The eery glare didn’t really do it for Soap so he turned the key in the ignition and took a second to appreciate the warm red and orange lights popping up before he twisted the key one notch further and the old jeep coughed back to life. The machine was loud in the pre-dawn silence, cutting through the dreams and exhausted half-comas that their comrades surely still tried to escape in.

“Used to ah. We used to sing a lot. Had an Irish boy in our group, he knew all these songs from his ma’s pub.”

“Sing like a bird, the lot of you?”

“Ever heard a shoebill, Lt?” Soap asked.

“On YouTube,” his lieutenant admitted easily. Soap sniggered to himself.

“Surprised ye know what that is, sir.”

“Had to take basic somewhere, didn’t I?” Ghost asked mildly. The weirdly wet mouth-noises stopped, and instead he started popping one of the buttons on his thigh pocket.

“Yer right mad if ye think for a second I believe that Sir, all due respect.”

Ghost only hummed to Soap’s indignant reply. “Sing us a song then, Soap.”

“Ever heard a Kiwi?”

“Had one run up to me in the middle of a night training with Aussie SAS,” Ghost replied with what sounded like a grimace. “The poor sods that were sent to populate that continent really had to think they were being sent to hell.”

“They didn’t know how America would turn out,” Soap replied absently, trying not to focus too hard on the repetitive metallic plop of Ghost opening and closing the buttons on his trouser pockets.

“A right comedian before sunrise.” At least Ghost seemed amused by his disgruntled, short replies.

“Aye, Dante had shit on me,” Soap agreed easily and wondered for the umpteenth time why Ghost would be so fucking awake at this ungodly hour. He wasn’t used to superiors sitting awake while they waited for a convoy, wasn’t used to conversation beyond talking shit at the CO passed out snoring in the passenger seat.

“Not quite, Soap,” Ghost said with what sounded like a smile. “Promised me a song, sergeant.”

“Nae danger did I promise ye anything,” Soap tried.

“Don’t get cute with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

“Go’an then.”

Soap sighed and rolled his eyes for good measure before adjusting the fan to heat the windows.

“There are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl,” he started and then stopped himself to clear his throat. “But give me a ramblin’ rover frae Orkney down to Dover. We will roam the country over and together we’ll face the world.

“If you’re bent with arthritis, your bowels have colitis, you’ve gallopin’ bollockitis, and you’re thinkin’ it’s time you died,

“If you’ve been a man of action, though you’re lying there in traction, you may gain some satisfaction thinking ‘Jesus, at least I tried’.

“Oh there’s sober men and plenty, and drunkards barely twenty, there are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl.”

“Missed your true callsign, didn’t you?” Ghost asked quietly, as if he regretted breaking the silence after Soap’s voice cracked on the last line. “Sing like a lark for me, Soap.”

“Not a happy song, Lt.” Soap exhaled through his nose, and tried not to think too hard about the way his voice had cracked. On how many notes he had missed. Why he had chosen that particular part of the song to sing.

“Doesn’t change that you sing it nicely, sergeant. Sound like a choir boy.” Soap bit his lip, uncomfortable with how easily Ghost had spoken about Soap’s childhood, regardless of if it stemmed from Soap’s personnel file — which Ghost has full access to, it would just be weird — or if it had come from conjecture — also weird to think of himself as so easily fitting into patterns, Soap thought.

“Think that’s the convoy up ahead, on the service road?” Soap noticed movement to his left, half hidden behind his lieutenant’s bulky form. Desperately wished for the moving string of lights to be his reprieve from Ghosts eery perception. Ghost turned in his seat, twisting his entire spine. Soap thought to himself that he’d have been both more and less surprised at the same time if his lieutenant had just swivelled his head like an owl.

“You good to drive, sergeant?” Ghost asked.

“Tell you when it changes, Lt,” Soap promised and watched Ghost’s satisfied little nod.

“Then hit the road,” he ordered lightly and started fiddling with that stupid pocket again.

“Yes, Sir.” Soap smiled to himself while he turned on the lights and pulled out of the parking space to slip between the guard vehicles of the MP.

We will roam the country over and together we’ll face the world.

He hummed to himself, quietly of course as to not disturb the night any further. If Ghost joined him, Soap pretended not to pay any attention to it and weaselled the soft sound away to keep safe in his breast pocket.

[wheelwheelwheel]

I was going to use #wot on prime spoilers but I I was also thinking about using #wot show spoilers as well or instead

Y’all what are we tagging WoT season 2 as?

I can’t watch the first 3 eps till at least the 4th one drops and maybe not even then, I will be Occupied. So I need to temporarily filter your show tags starting Sept 1 :(

I think I’ll be using #wot on prime spoilers, #wot on prime s2, #wot on prime s2e[#].

[beansprean]

Queening the Pawn Act 3 Part 13

exposition reveal! poor the guide :(

Acts 1-2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up of an open book with ragged pages and handwritten script, Guillermo's hands holding it open on the table and finger tracing along the lines. Partially cut off by the panel, it reads: '...ouncil made the...what they most feared...wast troubled by this and...mine own concerns about gran...wretched, snarling beast of a slay...to execute the punishment mine own se...wot fate would'st befall the thing I saw...become of the Council after its escape. Blood wast blood, and mine own brother would'st... withal emulation an he knew I got to taste a van Helsing. I sank mine own fangs into its throat and drank deeply - the taste wost that o' paprika burning in mine own nostrils, but I carried on until the deed wast done and mine own blood wast down its throat. I wast congratulated and we retired for the day. I awoke to a stake at mine own heart and the creature's eyne glinting in the dark. I could hear its heartbeat thundering, strong and alive. The creature had somehow resisted the transformation! I did not have time to observe it for...it knapp'd, and mine own dear Bianca... if not for thy letters folded into mine o... The verbose nature of your love hath... at the hands o' the foul...' Dialogue from present Guillermo, back in the library doing the talking head, is overlaid: 'Turns out the Guide did remember something.' 1b. Close up of Guillermo hunched over the book, pages reflected in his glasses, eyes focused and intense as he presses his palm over his mouth in thought. His present dialogue continues: 'She says Van Helsings started drinking vampire blood more than 300 years ago. I guess they got the idea from the whole thing with smallpox - take the poison in small doses, only get a little sick, and eventually you don't get sick at all.' 1c. Zoom out, Guillermo sitting at the bar as the Guide comes up behind him, face drawn and worried. He turns with a start as she quickly pats him thrice on the shoulder. 1d. Close up on the Guide as she explains her experience, hand up in a pinching motion. Guillermo's voiceover continues: 'You get inoculated, or variolated, I guess. And seems like it was effective enough that, generations later...'

2a. Zoom out to see both standing in profile, the main area of the club beyond. The Van Helsing lore is spread out on the bartop, some books open, some closed, some with page markers sticking out. There are multiple yellow post-it notes scattered around, including some plastered over Abraham's jar to cover the view of his mummified specimen. Guillermo, now standing facing the Guide, leans back with the weight of this information, one hand braced on a barstool and the over covering his face. The Guide clasps her hands in front of her and ducks her head apologetically, looking up at him in concern. Guillermo's voiceover says 'I'm completely immune. I can't be turned.' 2b. Repeat. Guillermo starts to shake with emotion and holds up his free hand as if to shrug off any sympathy. The Guide darts forward worriedly, arms out. Guillermo's voiceover says 'It was hard to hear. Again.' 2c. Waist up of Guillermo and the Guide hugging, her arms around his back and pressing his head to her shoulder where he willingly buries his face, his own arms clutching to her back. Guillermo's voiceover continues: 'But I'm glad I know now, at least.' 2d. Close up on the Guide's eyes over Guillermo's head as they fly open suddenly, irises turned to slits ringed with red as she inhales. Her face is cast in sudden shadow and spatters of blood begin to pile up in the background.

3a. Zoom out, Waist up of the Guide over Guillermo's shoulder as they clutch at each other. Her eyes are wide and pained, lost in some forgotten memory as her arms begin to shake. Behind her, some vague humanoid shapes appear, one with long hair and long skirt, one in a hooded robe, and another kneeling at the robed one's feet. The memory speaks, 'My Guide, the Council has brought you a meal.' 3b. Repeat, blood spatters once again beginning to pop up in the background. The memory continues, responding 'Oh! That is very thoughtful, Mistress, thank you.' and 'Careful, he's a struggler.' The Guide shuts her eyes tightly, chin wobbling as a tear pools in her eye. She squeezes Guillermo even tighter, now beginning to ask for the comfort she had been offering. Guillermo lifts his head slightly and asks, '...Guide? Guide, are you okay?'

4a. Repeat, blood spatters increasing in size and volume. The Guide ducks her head to hide her face in Guillermo's shoulder, full body shaking. She stutters out, 'I don't know.' The voice in the memory comes in again, glitched out and repeating itself in fragments, asking, 'How does he taste?' 4b. A brown wooden background shutters in to bring us back to the present with Guillermo doing his talking head. He is smiling sadly, looking down as he recalls what he just avoided sharing to the cameras. He simply says, '...She's a good friend.' 4c. Repeat, the full background of the mantel and bookshelf fading back in as Guillermo turns toward the camera and shrugs with a self-depreciating smile. He says, 'So...that's it. That's all I have for you guys, sorry. Still kinda figuring out the next steps.' 4d. Zoom out, view of the fireplace straight-on with Guillermo on one side and Greg the camera guy on the other. The top of the sound tech's head and part of the boom is visible in the foreground as they pack up. Greg is a thin white man with long blonde hair and a long blonde beard, wearing cargo shorts, a cardigan, and a purple Teen Titans ball cap. He lowers his camera and asks Guillermo off the record: 'You think you might leave?' Guillermo sighs and tucks his hands into his pockets, answering, 'I don't know, Greg. I'm pretty deep into the sunk-cost fallacy at this point, haha. 4e. Waist up of Guillermo from Greg's POV as he walks toward the door to the hall, turning back slightly to raise one arm in a shrug and say 'But things with Nandor are obviously weird right now. I kinda wonder if he'd even notice.' / end ID

[shezzabee]

Ineffable Slices of Life pt. 1

“Ah, there you are.” Aziraphale barged into the room with seemingly no consideration for the passed out demon inside. The bastard.

Said demon groaned — it might have been a plea for help or to be left alone.

“Here I am. You found me,” Crowley said, voice sleep-rough as he flipped on his back. “Gold star, angel.”

Aziraphale closed the door with a soft click, the sound seeming to echo in the quiet room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Crowley watched him as he stood there for a moment, his hand still on the doorknob, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. Ask me, Crowley urged silently. Ask me what I’m doing in your bed. Again.

Just when Crowley was about to tell him to sit down, Aziraphale moved towards the bed.

Crowley stilled, but he merely walked past it, and sat down on the armchair near the window.

Far enough away to be socially acceptable, the Aziraphale in his head said, but close enough for pleasant discourse.

Crowley rubbed the meat of his palm over his eyes. He must make quite the picture, splayed out on Aziraphale’s bed, limbs sprawled, his normally perfect red locks devilishly disheveled.

On a normal day, he’d show more decency around Aziraphale. He’d pull down his rucked up shirt, blink the sleep out of his eyes, take care not to leave ring stains on Aziraphale’s centuries old mahogany side-table.

None of the days lately have been normal.

“Drinking alone, I see.” Aziraphale glanced pointedly at the two empty wine bottles.

“Mn, yeah, you were busy. With Jim.” Crowley blinked, bleary-eyed, at his wristwatch. 11:40 am. Plenty of time to continue getting sloshed the rest of the day. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“That was hours ago,” Aziraphale said, frowning slightly.

“You bought him a gift.” Lot of good an exceedingly sulky nap did him, it seemed.

“Well, I thought he’d enjoy it,” Aziraphale said, all puffed up and proud.

“…What was it?” Crowley asked, because clearly he was an idiot who relished in torment.

“Ah, a beautifully bound journal. With a soft leather cover and the most exquisite, high-quality pages. I've included a rather lovely fountain pen as well, with ink that subtly shimmers with intent.”

“You wot,” Crowley turned to look at him, his lips twitched. “you miracled it?”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t a proper miracle. Merely a… helpful suggestion.”

“A suggestion for an amnesiac archangel to write down his deepest and darkest thoughts?”

“That would be playing it rather fast and loose with the term ‘amnesiac’, don’t you think, dear?”

“Does he even know how to write?”

“Well, of course —”

“Not it.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Not it, what?”

“I’m not doing it. I’m not teaching bloody archangel Gabriel who may or may not be faking, how to write. You’re it.”

“No one is it, he knows how to write. I think.”

Crowley blinked at the ceiling, his silence laden with doubt.

“He knows how to read.” Aziraphale pointed out a bit tetchily. “It’s perfectly safe to assume writing is still a skill-set he possesses.”

“’S kinda hard to imagine Gabriel possessing any skills other than being a downright bast —”

“Crowley.” The tone was so chiding, it almost made Crowley want to cough up an apology. Almost.

“Are you really that troubled over it?” Aziraphale asked.

“Nah.” Crowley blinked again (he was doing an awful lot of blinking), the faint brush-strokes on the ceiling were starting to form long-forgotten shapes. Were those symbols? “If he does write something, we could read it.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“Don’t act like that wouldn’t be playing out precisely how you’d hoped.”

“I’m sure I’ve no idea what you mean,” Aziraphale countered primly.

“You might as well have sat him down and ordered him to write everything he remembers, at gunpoint.”

“I would never —!” Hand over his heart, Aziraphale managed to give him a look that was both scandalous and impish.

“Yeah, no, ‘course, a miracled fountain pen that gently coaxes its handler to write whatever comes to mind is a much more ethical approach.”

“It encourages creativity and introspection without any undue influence. Perfect for someone rediscovering themselves.”

Crowley snorted. “Leave it to you to passive-aggressively send his Holy Highness to therapy.”

“Well, sometimes we all need a bit of gentle encouragement, don’t we?”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed, then he pushed himself up on his elbows, giving Aziraphale a look of mock horror. “Therapy, angel? Are you suggesting we go all touchy-feely and introspective? What’s next, group hugs and trust falls?” He shuddered theatrically. “Honestly, you read too many books.”

“You mean to tell me your reaction to all of this has been completely reasonable?”

“Has yours? You’re harboring a fugitive archangel in your bookshop!”

“We’ve been over this. You agreed it was the right thing to do.”

Crowley flopped onto his back, fingers interlaced over his chest. Perhaps if he couldn't see Aziraphale, the fear and anger gnawing at him might stop.

“Unless you didn’t agree,” Aziraphale frowned, lips pursed in displeasure. “But then — why did you come back?”

“You know why,” Crowley suddenly felt a profound weariness, right down to his bones. “Naivety was never your colour, angel.”

The silence that followed felt stifling. Crowley lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Those were definitely ethereal symbols up there, giving him a proper headache.

He wondered how he was supposed to wriggle out of this mess now. There was no chance he was dancing again. One indignity per century was more than enough to endure.

Finally, Aziraphale said quietly, almost shyly, “Do you want to see your present?”

[cxsmiicc]

dead broke and broken hearted - lanfear x female dragon

first wot fic so sorry if anythings inaccurate and whatnot, had sm fun writing this uhhh yeah!!

5.8k words, ao3 link in title

smut, fluffy aftercare, choking, mistress kink if you squint, fingering, eating out, wlw ofc, think thats it??

Waiting. The innkeeper act left plenty to fill the hours, but that was secondary to this. To the Dragon. Ellyse, as she was now known. Had Lews Therin been reincarnated a man once again her job would be far easier, though notably less fun, she supposed idly. Seduction had hardly been her original plan for turning her to the Dark, but that first - and second - look she had given ‘Selene’ was enough to solidify it as the best option. It had been delightful to learn that it would scarcely take much on her part to slip between the poor girl’s sheets, she was short of coin the very first week in Cairhien. Light allusions and a lingering look aimed at her chest coloured her cheeks faintly pink and encouraged embarrassed mutterings, but her eyes were alight with the idea; so like his had been she almost had to turn away. In the progressing weeks it was made clear that Ellyse and Lews Therin were both more alike and different than she knew, from the creases around her eyes when she smiled heartachingly similar, to the things that led to that smile flipped entirely on their head. Where he led, she was content to follow, though not without ensuring choice words made their way to whoever was in charge; his pride was her insecurity. That could be worked on, it simply wouldn’t do to have a Dragon too bothered by self doubt to make use of. Raw power was nothing without control, and the willingness to use it when required, or rather for Ellyse to when it pleased Lanfear.

Coming back to herself, she realised the time and whipped wind through her hair, mussing it in such a way she knew Ellyse would adore, giving her clothes similar treatment. Far be it for her to get in such a state voluntarily, but then Lews had always preferred her somewhat unkempt, yet another thing that had survived in Ellyse. Not a moment after she had settled herself to face the door, settled herself into being Selene for the night, Ellyse entered, tripping on the broken sole of her boot in her haste. The candle had done its job after all, in announcing her plans for tonight. She let a slow, sly smile play across her lips and simply watched the other woman’s reaction, leaning back on one elbow as pure want spread through her. Even in this low lighting her infatuation was evident, eyes raking over her body, gaze lingering on the stray hair and twisted skirts that were oh so meticulously prepared exactly for this purpose, to entice. That was the aim of this entire endeavor, after all. Lure the Dragon to the Dark. Lure the dragon to her.

Said Dragon was busying herself with her boots, tugging the knotted laces as she discarded the ruined footwear.

“You put in word for another week.”

Winning the battle with the gnarled string, she turned and responded, “Is that going to be an issue?” Her tone was concerned, but the slight upturn of her mouth betrayed her true thoughts.

“Mmmmm,” She dragged the sound out as long as she could, delighting in how Ellyse hung on every vibration. Raising both arms and arching her back, she continued. “Shouldn’t be, provided you continue being so timely with payments.”

Shoes long forgotten, she was already making her way over, painting on a smile to rival Lanfear’s own. “I wouldn’t dream of being late, my lady.”

“Enough of these games.” Growing impatient with her pace, she forced her closer with saidar, crashing their lips together hard. This, this would never change. The ecstasy of having her love so close, the yearning for them to be closer still, to dash the rest of the world to pieces or bow everyone to her will, if only it meant more of this. One day, her Dragon would know this feeling too, one day soon if she was already as taken as she seemed. She was rougher than he had been - at least at first. Less scared of hurting her, more eager for her own satisfaction rather than focusing on what Selene needed. Yet another thing to be working on.

Manoeuvring them in such a way that she was above, she once again summoned the wind, this time to push apart the pins of Ellyse’s corset, lifting her weight slightly so that it fell beneath them and slid to the ground, using the same momentum to drive her thin undershirt over her head. The torn fabric tangled in her hair for a moment, off white against fiery red before it dropped into the depths under the bed with the corset. She giggled at this, bare chest heaving with breathless laughter.

“How you do that so fast I will never understand, it takes me years to get in and out of it.”

The smirk was back as she moved onto the lower portion of the dress, made easier by a lack of petticoats.

“I’d be more than happy to assist, but I fear I’d be reluctant to see it put back on.”

Whatever witty response she was sure to come out with was quickly silenced by the groan of pure desire Lanfear let out at the sight of her underthings, soaked through onto her thighs. Her Dragon was hers, and she took the time to appreciate it, slipping forward until she was straddling her hips, running the tips of her fingers idly over her sides, stopping before she could touch anywhere Ellyse truly wanted her to. She got bored of this rather quickly it seemed, reaching for her hands presumably to force her to touch her somewhere more interesting, but she wasn’t in charge here. Pinning her hands behind her head, Lanfear leaned in, letting her hair trail over the girl’s chest as she did so, giving some illusion of friction.

“No. You will wait, and if I decide that you deserve it you shall get something, but not before I am sated. Do you understand?”

Her pupils blew impossibly wider as she choked out agreement, but a mere “Y-yes,” wasn’t enough. Not tonight.

“Yes what?”

“Yes I understand, nothing for me until you’re satisfied, mistress.”

“That’s my girl.” She may not have known the depth of her belonging then, but she would. The Dragon was hers, in this life and ages past and in every one to come. As the Wheel turned, so she willed.

In the blink of an eye her dress was over her head and discarded elsewhere, the one underskirt she had on swiftly torn off and thrown. A wriggle of her hips had her lined up over Ellyse’s mouth, hovering even while arousal dripped down her cheeks, waiting to see what she would do. Much to her pleasure, her arms came up to wrap around her thighs, forcing her all the way down and reaching out with her tongue before she could get properly settled. She dropped with a lewd moan, revelling in the feeling of having this again, of being wanted, desired again. Ellyse knew, the way he always had, what she needed. Pushing until she was on the verge of breaking, then finding some new way to drag sounds she had no idea she was capable of making from the base of her throat, sucking hard at her clit and forcing her to grip the headboard until her knuckles grew white, hips still maintaining their fervid pace while her ecstasy dripped down the Dragon’s face, still supported by her sure grip. Relinquishing her hold on the bed, she gripped her arm, still wrapped around her thigh and the only reason she was still upright, squeezing hard and falling back ever so slightly.

Ever so slightly out of breath she asked, “Mmmmm, do you think you deserve your turn?”

The muffled voice replied, “Not up to me,” eyes on her the entire time.

That reverent look was precisely what she craved, the one who had so long ago denied her now thinking solely of her pleasure. She would do anything, anything, to keep it this way, she swore in that moment. Ellyse would know her true name before long, no matter what may have to happen to make that come to pass. Not that she would admit it, but there were easier ways than this innkeeper ploy to get to Ellyse. Plain old kidnapping, Compulsion, though she had never held Graendal’s fondness for the art, or even merely running into her on the road would have been easier. This way provided her with not only an end goal, but an escape along with it. As Mierin, she was held atop a pedestal, Lews Therin’s lover, as powerful as a woman could be in the power, yet never quite distinguished enough for a third name. No matter. As Lanfear, she wasn’t forsaken, but chosen. A creature of stories, the stuff of legends. Fitting for someone who was born in the age of them. Among the most powerful channelers of any age, and all paled in comparison to the imponderabilia of her allure. But Selene, Selene was different in that she was no different than any other innkeeper in Cairhien, at least at first glance. Selene was an ordinary woman, burdened only with the worries that plagued the rest of the city, of failed crops and lousy patronage. To be able to escape into nothing but sensation, to lose herself while riding someone else, that was the bliss she craved but could never quite achieve in her other personas.

Sliding back down, “Oh you are good for me aren’t you,” she said as she pressed her lips back onto Ellyse’s, greeted by the taste of herself thick on her tongue. She kissed and was kissed until nothing of her pleasure remained between them, and only then did she aim lower. Sinking her teeth into her Dragon’s neck, where she knew it would be seen above even the higher necklines she favoured, pressing and sucking at the sting to soothe the ache. These marks would last, all the better for the Aes Sedai that would undoubtedly rear their heads soon to see just how completely she controlled their precious tool. Again and again she latched on, until her shoulders were littered with purpling bruises leading gradually downwards, from the underside of her jaw to the beginnings of her décolletage. All the while Ellyse scarcely made a sound, as was her custom. Where Selene was loud about her pleasure, she was quiet, all whispered curses and muttered obscenities, sayings from Shienar and Falme, Saldea and Tear, all jumbled together in a passionate exclamation that would garner stares from even the most foul mouthed of sailors. Yet not once did she invoke the Light. Never since arriving in Cairhien. Never since leaving those who fought most fervently for it. Never since the Aes Sedai Moiraine had been stilled at the Eye of the World. A number of explanations for this presented themselves to Lanfear, ranging from tenable to inane. In a perfect world, she was ready to forsake the Light, swear her oaths to the Dark, and stay with her for ages come to pass. That, of course, was exceedingly unlikely, but it would never do to rule out ones best option. Whatever the reason, this habit lent hope to her mission and ulterior motives alike. Even if she wasn’t ready to walk the shadow completely, pulling the Dragon from directly following the path of the Light was a major step, and one bound to lead to a next.

Dropping her focus lower still, she wrapped her lips around the tip of her breast, again biting, ruining the flesh for anyone’s mouth but her own, revelling in the carte blanche Ellyse had given to her on that very first night, the first time the gold had failed to appear. One hand rose to pull at the side of her chest left unmarred, eliciting more soft gasps and choice swears from the redhead below, pale eyes forced closed in ecstasy. 

“Peace…” She trailed off as Selene slid her tongue across her skin, too caught up in sensation to form words.

Pausing her assault on the girl’s chest, “Aiel on first glance, swears like a Shienaran, all while claiming to be from the Two Rivers. Unusually well travelled for a farmhand.”

“I-,” A whine interrupted her response and Lanfear couldn’t help the smile that formed at how desperate she was, “Had a- a long - fuck - journey here… With some detours.”

“And i intend on hearing that story in full, another time.” With this, her hand slipped between her legs and wasted no time in finding her clit, never stopping the movement of her lips and successfully dragging a guttaral groan from her beautiful Dragon. And she was beautiful, more so than Lews had ever been. Anything enticing about him had originated from his strength, rather than his looks. A strong beak of a nose and coarse hair, eyes that never seemed to show emotion. All things that lent him an air of power, but did nothing to lend him her heart. But Ellyse was none of these. Her features were delicate, hair thick and soft and the colour of the setting sun. Beauty unlike that which Lanfear possessed, yet differing from most in that it was not dulled by standing near her, rather it seemed to draw the flower from her bud, to enhance every aspect of her to a level befitting the person Lanfear had chosen to stand aside, to turn her from a simple farmhand to the Dragon Reborn. The sun and moon, Bringer of Light and the Daughter of the Night, united in glory. And when the time came, she would take the glory. Selene would make sure of it. But for now, her fingers found their way to her entrance, slow and deliberate. Waiting for that telltale panting of want before she pushed inside, velvet smoothness surrounding two digits, the wetness dripping onto the sheets more than enough for her to start moving. Pounding in and out, in and out, thumb working her clit and tongue still laying waste to her breasts until she came, body rippling like tremulous petals, saidin threatening to overflow its confines and burst free, tongues of flame coiling sinuously around the two forms on the bed, visible only to those select few who had seen the tainted power at work before. Ever a giving lover, she fucked her through it, praising the Pattern that Ellyse’s eyes had closed before the power had escaped and she would have had to either lie or reveal herself, and it was too early for that yet. Soon, with any luck.

Hearing her true name from the Dragon’s lips, in this lifetime, was what she craved more so than owning her body. He had had her as Mierin, the wunderkind physicist, still not entirely sure of her place in the world. Since then, she had created that place. Created the person to fill it. Chosen of the Dark One, instrumental in freeing him. A story told to frighten children into good behaviour. Stronger than today’s Aes Sedai could ever dream of being, even with their few remaining angreal. A threat to everything they were currently working towards. And how she delighted in it. What joy it was to finally be stronger than those who would silence her, both in the power and politically. Their web of Darkfriend supporters was woven deep into the aristocracy and spread from those highest in their respective cities to the lowliest peasant, with men enough for grunt work of the kind you didn’t return from and the Black Ajah to tug on those strings that she herself was too high up to bother handling. Yes, Ellyse would know her strength soon. Know just how special she was, how special they both were. 

Her eyes were fluttering back open by this time, face slack save a dreamy smile that soon shifted as Lanfear slammed a hand around her neck. Pinning her to the bed, she crashed their lips together once more, another rough, demanding kiss, taking advantage of her surprise to work her tongue in, swallowing back the moans both women let out. Thin rivulets of sweat rode towards the sheets, fighting to find a space the two weren’t pressed against each other to slide along. Delicate strands of saliva webbed over the wrist that remained around Ellyse’s throat as she abruptly pulled back, pinning her with a stare so intense what little breath she could draw caught in her throat and every hair along her arms rose. Something akin to fear polluted those grey eyes, no longer sleepy but wide and alert. One brow arched in a silent question.

“You’re mine.”

Waiting was no longer an option. Her tone left no question in the matter, and gave the girl no options aside from the obvious. She found herself more stuck on Ellyse than she had ever been on Lews. He had been perfectly delightful for a time, but the monotony of it all had gotten to her in the end. She had been his first priority, his chief opinion, the one he trusted above all others. For a time. Too soon, he had seemed to grow bored of her. Everything was more important. Her achievements had been second wind to whatever his latest flight of fancy was. So she had adapted. Planted the idea for his next delusion after becoming a master at it. Mirroring him oh so fucking perfectly, right up until the day he looked too closely. The cracks were fine, yet they ran end to end. Falling apart with the slightest pressure, one lingering glance and sordid conversation was enough to shatter the life she had so carefully constructed for herself. Never again. Never again would she make that mistake.

Seeing her like this, with such exquisite longing drawn across her features even while hopelessly overpowered; from the trusting softness in her eyes to the set curve of her throat, pushing slightly at the hand restraining her as if trying to get closer still, apparently forgetting they were all but conjoined from the hips down, inspired this sudden fierce possessiveness. Praise the Dark One and the Pattern and even the Creator himself for allowing a Dragon as perfect as Ellyse. One so superbly isolated from her loved ones, wondrously scorned by the Aes Sedai claiming to act in the name of the Light, and so desperate for the slightest scrap of affection that she had come running the instant Lanfear opened her arms - both literally and metaphorically. She had awoken in this age looking to find Lews again, intent on remedying her past mistakes with a sugar shell and sweet words, but she was certainly a welcome surprise. She may have been all that was left of him, but he was only a fragment of her. His resolve, his raw strength, and the tempest of his anger were all evident, yet she controlled them in ways that would have been foreign to the Dragon of old, tempered the aggression saidin wrought with a gentleness Lanfear had not thought possible from someone in such circumstances as she and yet still bending the tainted power to her will with all the delicacies of a hammer striking hot steel. The battle against the male power was not an easy one for any man, let alone a woman in possession of the soul of a man three thousand years dead without any shred remaining of his sanity. She had given so much already, leaving everyone she knew behind so as not to risk one day hurting them if the madness claimed her also and she lived up to the Kinslayer’s legacy. Noble intentions, truly. But a futile effort in the end. Day by day, Lanfear could sense saidin rooting itself deeper and deeper within the girl, occupying the shadowed recesses of her mind and whispering into her dreams. These, not even the Daughter of the Night herself could keep from reaching Ellyse in Tel’aran’rhiod. She would need to swear her oaths to stop the decay, and the chances of her doing that were slim as of now, unless she had seriously misjudged the poor child.

But here and now that was of little consequence. Any influence the Dark had had over her was weak, yet enough to bring about certain… changes. Only noticeable to one sharing a bed with her. A self assuredness overtook her at times, the shy smile making way for a confident smirk, one that said she knew exactly what you were thinking and exactly why you were thinking it, well on its way to being on par with Lanfear’s own. In nights past it had been Ellyse holding her by the throat, nights when she had left no sign of her presence and allowed a frustrated woman to walk in and see someone seemingly only wanting her body when she so desperately needed to speak and be heard. Nights when what she had truly needed was to take control over something, someone, and feed that lust for power buried deep within. This Dragon did so like to deny what she was, who she was, and yet it was only by accepting it that these trysts she so enjoyed could blossom into true partnership. 

Selene would be more than happy with Ellyse, but Lanfear would settle for nobody short of the Dragon.

Those damned wrinkles formed around her eyes as she laughed lightly in response to her lovers sudden possessiveness, “For now and for always, Selene.”

This reckless confession dragged to the surface memories of Lews saying much the same. By the Light, they were so much the same. If she were to… No. No. She wouldn’t. All the girl needed was time. A few months was nothing. These few months had simply been ground work. Laying the foundation for her grand scheme. Enamouring Ellyse with exactly what she needed most, before slowly revealing her true self. Well, what little there was left to reveal. Selene, at times, seemed to be more her than Lanfear. Selene could be soft, show emotion without worrying about it being construed as weakness. Daes Dae’mar had nothing on the scheming of the Chosen, and if any of the others were around to catch wind of Ellyse being the Dragon, her perfect romance would never have bloomed. Well, Ishamael was free also, but him and her alone understood the allure of the Dragon, of Lews Therin walking the world once more. He knew exactly how beneficial having her hopelessly in love with one of the Forsaken could be. After all, loving Lews was what had driven Lanfear to swear her oaths. It was inevitable that loving her should send Ellyse down the path of the Shadow also.

But for now, she had a beautiful woman underneath her and she intended to take every possible second of pleasure. Her easy smile at declaring herself Selene’s belied the hand creeping towards her core, parting her legs and flipping them so that she was on top in one smooth motion, grinning at the shock on Lanfear’s face even while she pulled her closer. This kiss was softer, fitting of the words not long spoken, gentle movements and muffled groans filling the room. Ellyse raised one knee and she wasted no time in grinding against it, those gentle groans replaced with a sudden gasp at the much needed friction. Her Dragon chuckled at this show of want, slipping two fingers inside of her and relishing in her wanton moan at the sensation. She kept the kiss going even as her fingers sped up and it became more and more one sided, all of Selene’s energy going into arching to meet her thrusts to get herself there. Her fingers scissored inside her walls as they plunged in, thumb finding her clit in moments and marking swift circles, drawing her closer and closer with every clever flick of her wrist. She suddenly forced them closer, slipping her tongue into her mouth and drinking down every little sound that escaped as she came, never slowing and showing no signs of stopping, pressuring her still shaking body into a second orgasm and only relenting after Selene’s shuddering subsided.

“Careful, I might start thinking you like me.” All things considered, her tone was surprisingly even, though her breathlessness somewhat ruined the playacting.

Ever quick to play along, her Dragon, her wonderful Dragon, replied, “Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” She punctuated her words with a tender kiss, rolling over to rest her head on Lanfear’s chest, absently tracing patterns against her stomach. “I’m sorry if that was too much, I just-

She was cut off by a swift laugh, Lanfear pressing a kiss to the crown of her head and wrapping both arms around her slight frame. “You’d know if it was too much. I am a woman of many attributes, one of which happens to be my fabulous libido. If you ever tried anything at all that i didn’t like, I would find a way to let you know, okay? Just like you would tell me if you ever weren’t enjoying something I introduced.” True, however unlikely it was. One area in which Lews and Ellyse scarcely differed at all was sexual preferences. She liked what he had liked, and what he had liked, Mierin had mastered. But back to the present.

“Want me to get the candle?”

“Please.”

As she rose from the bed, her hair swung behind her, a solid red mass of snarls and frizz thanks to the friction of the sheets.

“Forget the candle, bring your hairbrush over here.”

“Why?”

“Because, your hair is ruined sweetheart, let me help. After all, this is thanks to me and I like making you feel good.”

A truly gorgeous grin bloomed across her face at these words, one so full of unadulterated happiness that she stumbled on her way back across the room, all but dropping the brush onto the bed.

“Come on, let me get fresh sheets while you find something to tie your hair off with. If you don’t have anything, there should be something in my room.”

She nodded and threw a greatcoat across her shoulders for the walk to Selene’s room, all the way on the other side of the inn, leaving Lanfear free to freshen the sheets, weaving flows of air and water to draw everything undesirable from the bedding and thoroughly wash it, rather than trekking to the linen closet that was all of two doors down the hall. While she was at it, she briefly scrubbed herself down and expelled any unwanted fluids. Nobody could possibly sleep comfortably while not being properly clean. By the time she was finished with all of this, Ellyse was back, thin leather cord in hand and coat abandoned on the floor.

“Perfect, now come here and sit.” She patted the space between her thighs on the bed, lightly pulling her endless amounts of hair to her back as she began parting it to brush through. Over half of the shapeless mass was placed back over her shoulder so as to separate it from the hank being brushed, only to then have another section taken from it as the first was smoothed over her other shoulder. The work was slow and methodical, the thickness of her hair necessitating a gentle hand and the patience of one who had been imprisoned for millenia. Working from the bottom to the top had always yielded the best, least painful results on her own hair, so this was the technique she favoured for her Dragon. She seemed to enjoy the attention, watching the candlelight flicker around the room and talking of everything and nothing, a fresh topic with every brushstroke. Once the detangling was over, she divided the hair into nine sections, braiding it into three before twisting them together into one elaborate braid that would hang to her waist, but was currently snaking over the sheets as she lay back and smiled up in thanks.

“That was… Incredible. Nobody has done anything like that for me, well, ever,” She confessed. “Can I-” Nerves seemed to cut her off, despite their earlier activities. “Can I brush yours? I promise I’ll be gentle.” That shy grin was awful, capable of levelling cities and destroying nations. Of course, only when it was directed at Lanfear.

“Come on then, let me sit.”

The girl scrambled to take Selene’s place, straddling the elder and gently running a hand through her hair to see what she was working with.

“God, everything about you is beautiful.”

This praise shouldn’t have effected her as much as it did. Blushing like a maiden at her first bedding over a simple truth! She was better than this.

She took the brush in hand and simply began, with none of the careful strategy Selene had had, just tugging it from midway down to the end and letting the hair bounce back up into the waves it liked to fall into.

“So where did you get the tie? It’s pretty and it felt like it was a good one, not the cheap kind traders always brought to the Two Rivers that snapped after two uses.”

“Oh, the markets in Cairhien are always reliable for odds and ends like that, but if you truly want the best of the best, you’re much better off wandering the Foregate for a time.”

Confusion filled her voice. “The Foregate??”

“Yes, the people here spend far more time making these things than the people in the city proper, and often use better materials too. Yes, you may pay a little more, but whats a few extra pennies for something that I’ll use forever.”

“Huh, remind me to consult you before I go shopping next.”

“Please, you wouldn’t last an hour walking alone in the Foregate. Pretty little things are almost always taken for noblewomen in disguise. Trust me, you don’t want that happening.”

“So whatever must you do?”

Stifling a laugh, she turned to face Ellyse, resting a hand on her knee as she replied, “They take one look at me and think better of it.” This ominous statement was accompanied by a sugar sweet smile, one designed to fool showoff noblemen looking for an easy boost to their egos. But Ellyse was sharper than them.

“Good thing I like my women a little dangerous.”

Both women were suddenly laughing, clutching at one another’s arms as they tried desperately to stop, to calm themselves.

Still struggling to catch her breath, Ellyse managed to get a complete sentence out, “Come on, lie down and I’ll get the candle.”

Residual giggles saw the candle, wick burning lower and lower, blown out and the Dragon curled securely in Lanfear’s arms.

“You know, you’re stunning when you laugh like that.” Something about this sleepy confession dug through the layers of carefully crafted personas that made up Lanfear. All of a sudden she really was just Selene, falling asleep with her lover in the inn she owned, rather than the terrifying creature who orchestrated the entire relationship, from obtaining inns all over not just the Foregate but in Cairhien proper also, not knowing where Ellyse would choose to stay. In hindsight, the Foregate was the obvious choice, but then hindsight is always clearer, to ensuring her salary remained below the rent through a mixture of false charges and bribing the sanitarium staff. This entire thing was false, so why did falling for Ellyse seem so real? Lews was perfectly fine. A man, a symbol of power, of status. Someone she would not have minded using, standing by him as long as it was beneficial to her and leaving the moment it was not. She would have taken what he had in a heartbeat had it been possible. But she was different. She… She was so pure. The world hadn’t spoiled her yet. Lanfear, Daughter of the Night, second only to Ishamael in terms of power,  set the world aflame and dance amongst the ashes to see the Dragon Reborn smile, to be the reason that effervescent smile spread across her cheeks. She knew who she was, and yet she still saw the light in everything. And the reverence in her eyes when she looked at Selene… If only she could moan her true name. The day that happened, she swore on everything she had, she would properly celebrate. With wine, and her woman. Preferably all day, on every available surface, the Great Plan be damned. Evil could take a day off so that its perpetrators could get thoroughly laid.

One thing that bothered her though. Despite Ellyse knowing that she was indeed the Dragon Reborn, she had taken no steps towards mastering her power. Or even understanding it at the most basic level. However strong she may think she was right now, it was but a fraction of what she could be with training. Training that she could not provide, aside from the foundations of control. Not setting fires in her sleep and such. But the true depths of saidin… To master it she would need someone familiar in the power. Ishamael, or Asmodean perhaps. No matter, that bridge could be crossed later. When she was trained, the two of them would be unstoppable. The two halves of the power, working in unison for the first time since the Age of Legends. Now that was something worthy of her and her Dragon. Nothing short of miraculous would be enough. The things they could do with those weaves were damn near limitless. They could tear down the world and remake it in their image, teach those failures of Aes Sedai what true control was.

But here, in this moment, all that mattered was Ellyse’s even breathing as her head rested once again over her breast, one hand idly tapping at the sheets in her slumber. Choosing to forego an appearance in her dreams tonight, she simply lay there and enjoyed the moment. That steady thud as her finger collided with the material over and over gradually became an annoyance. One that she tried to block out, focusing her mind elsewhere until she could not anymore, using wind to plug her ears until the sensation of pressure building became too much, even going so far as to attempt moving her arm as she slept. Finally, she tried slipping her own hand underneath Ellyse’s, successfully blocking the target of the infernal knocking. What she did not anticipate was the way the sleeping Dragon clasped her hand, holding it as though it was a lifeline. This simple act was enough to confirm what she had suspected for a while, though that suspicion had come to a head tonight. Ellyse truly was different from Lews, in that she had successfully caught Lanfear’s heart.

-

tags, couple people who asked to be tagged and a few randoms bcs i dont have a taglist sorry if u didnt wanna be tagged <33

@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress @eve-is-obsessed @hahnspoetrywrites @lanfearswife @moon3thereal @ofthebrownajah

[markantonys]

what's my personal ideal route for this game? well, i follow rand and mat after shadar logoth and add them both to my harem. in caemlyn i buy a diamond outfit from elayne (the leadup is "before you go see my mom to get arrested, quick, put on this really nice outfit to impress her!") and this is what i will wear for the entire rest of the game all the way through the last battle because i want to get my money's worth. i also have a One-Time Hookup with morgase after she doesn't arrest me. after the eye, i follow the girls to tar valon and add elayne and egwene to my harem and start befriending gawyn. nynaeve and lan are safe from my harem, i'll leave them to be with each other in peace. at falme, i tell min to keep her hands off my boyfriend rand and then hook up with lanfear on the bed next to rand's unconscious body. i follow mat and the girls back to tar valon for some quality time with 3/4 of my current harem and further befriending of gawyn, then follow mat to caemlyn for hijinks and then tear, where i flirt with aviendha when mat and i run into her aiel crew on the wall of the stone (the aielwoman in that scene IS aviendha and you can't change my mind).

tear is prime opportunity for harem quality time! elayne, egwene, mat, and rand are all there, and i now add faile as well because this is the only time i will ever see her due to the fact that i will never follow perrin's plotline. i encourage rand and elayne to date each other, so we're now in a throuple and threesomes ensue. then i follow the aiel waste crew, add aviendha to my harem, encourage her and rand to date each other (threesomes ensue), and have One-Time Hookups with various aiel side characters. i encourage rand and mat to date after rand saves him in rhuidean (i know i said the rules of the game would only allow you to set up other characters if they're each other's canon love interests, but this is my game so i say rand and mat are able to be set up) and threesomes ensue once mat is no longer in critical condition. on the way back, i have a One-Time Hookup with asmodean (it's actually a threesome with rand). foursome opportunity with rand, mat, and aviendha after the fight against rahvin.

i stick with rand until dumai's wells, which is one of the potential points where gawyn can either betray you or side with you (there will be multiple potential points depending on which plotlines you follow). he sides with me, of course, seeing as i have been treating him as my babygirl all along, and he is now my official companion who i will take along on all my future travels, and this doesn't break the plot because he doesn't actually do anything between dumai's wells and the seanchan attack on the tower so it's fine if i extract him from his plotline. rand takes me and gawyn to mat's camp and we go with mat to salidar, then ebou dar, with harem quality time aplenty. gawyn and i go to caemlyn with the girls, at which point i encourage elayne and aviendha to date and threesomes ensue. foursome opportunity when rand visits caemlyn. gawyn and i go with him for his subsequent travels, and i hook up with graendal in arad doman.

after the dragonmount epiphany, gawyn and i dip out to go check on egwene. i encourage gawyn and egwene to date and threesomes ensue. i leave gawyn with her and go back to caemlyn just in time for mat's arrival, and i encourage him and elayne to date (my game i make the rules) and threesomes ensue. mat says, "hey, while you were gone, i met this seanchan empress that i think is pretty. should i go for it?" and i smash the NO button on that, and no threesomes ensue.

i go with elayne to merrilor and enjoy harem quality time with everybody. i go with rand to ebou dar and punch tuon in the face during negotiations because every ounce of her character development is paywalled to high hell and i'm running low on diamonds due to all the threesomes and hookups, but i make a mental note to do a replay for a proper tuon route someday because i can sense how much potential her character has and it's a real shame it's so difficult to unlock it. tuon betrays me and the seanchan don't come to the last battle, but it's fine because the sharans are soon in shambles because i manage to squeeze in a spicy spicy hookup with demandred during the last battle (through the power of ta'veren all things are possible so jot that down) and i kill him at the end of it. gawyn thus survives. egwene also survives because i help her obliterate taim so she doesn't need to go overboard (your character is a channeling learner (not sparker), but actually learning to channel is paywalled and i have gladly shelled out). after the last battle, my harem is all across the continent, so i split my time between rand/mat/elayne/aviendha in caemlyn, egwene/gawyn in tar valon, and faile in saldaea. i have gone the entire game without interacting with perrin.

still thinking about a WOT dating sim game. your character would be the sixth emond's fielder (and also ta'veren, to explain why everyone wants to date you) and you leave the village with the others, but after that point, you choose which group to follow every time there's a Party Split. this means that you get to experience WOT but only your favorite plotlines and you can just skip all the others!

dateable characters: rand, mat, perrin, egwene, nynaeve, elayne, moiraine, lan, aviendha, faile, various other heroes

characters you can have a One-Time Hookup with but they will not date you: lanfear, graendal, demandred, ishamael, asmodean, various other villains, various minor characters who appear only briefly in the story

gawyn and tuon get their own category because if you build up enough relationship points with them, they will be your allies (and love interests should you so choose), but if you don't, then they'll betray you at a key moment in the story.

help gawyn work through all his inner turmoil (20 diamonds, ++relationship)

tell him you believe he can work it out on his own (free, +relationship)

tell him he's a little bitch (free, -relationship)

force tuon to channel and accept that she's capable of it (20 diamonds, ++relationship)

tell her she can channel, but do nothing about it (free, +relationship)

punch her in the face (free, -relationship)

you can date as many characters simultaneously as you want and they will never get jealous of each other. you can date multiple trakand siblings and they will not care. you can have rand as your boyfriend and also have a quick hookup with demandred and rand will not care (although demandred will probably talk about him the whole time). if a character isn't dated by you, you will have the option to set them up with their canon love interest provided that that character isn't dated either. alternately, if both of them are dated by you, then you have the option to turn your V relationship into a throuple. you can pick one love interest right off the bat and ignore everyone else for the whole game, or you can create a harem with every single character in the series.

whoever owns the rights needed to make a WOT videogame, please hire me

[valandhirwriter]

Favorite side characters, any media. Go!

Thanks for the ask, @do-androids-dream-ao3acc, but you are aware, how dangerous it is, to ask me such big things?

Tam al'Thor from Wheel of time

Who is this: In WoT Tam is the father (or rather foster-father) of Rand al'Thor the Dragon reborn. Tam raised the baby that he found on the battlefield after the Blood Snow so well amd with such love, that the revelation that he isn't Rand's father comes as a shock, and even after knowing the truth, Rand still considers Tam as his father. Tam has his own role to play during the series and proves an important balancing factor for Rand in the days before Tarmon Gai'don. With Tam the author broke the trope that heroes slated for death (which the Dragon is) will either have no family any more, or be estranged in some fashion. While Rand's biological parents are dead, he still has a family in Tam, who will be deeply impacted by the loss of his son, and bears that knowledge with such a quiet strength, makes the fact that the Dragon will die at Tarmon Gai'don all the more poignant. Late in the books Rand is asked, what is different between his last incarnation as the Dragon (Lews Therin) and now, and Rand replies: "I was raised better." Showing that Tam's down-to-Earth upbringing did a world of good for the man who is supposed to save the world but also maybe break it again.

Quote: "All we can do is the best we can with the life that's given to us. And take comfort from it. But no matter what happens, what pain we face, what heartbreak, even death, the Wheel keeps turning. Always. And we try again. Maybe do a little better than the last time."

Pet Headcanons I have:

1. I cannot see how Tam could find a baby, freshly born on the slopes of Dragonmount and not guess something. Moraine in New Spring thinks that no one will admit to a child born on the slopes of Dragonmount because that detail of the prophecy is too well known. Tam also evades the initial Aes Sedai search, in spite of the offered money to all children born during the days of the Siege. So, I believe he saw something or at least believed that the baby boy could be believed to be the Dragon Reborn.

We know that Tam had an interessting military career, from the Whitecloak War to the Blood Snow, and I honestly still think that there were more adventures he had than we ever get to know.

Tam's family: We know Tam left the Two Rivers as a young man and came back years later with a wife and child. The child obviously Rand. But Rand never remembers grandparents, and after the death of Kari al'Thor Tam raises his son alone, much as the women of Emond's field strongly think he should remarry. We do not see any other female relative helping, nor get any mentions of the wider al'Thor family. So I have this headcanon that Tam's choice to leave had something to do with the loss of his family. His role in the pattern necessitated him leaving, living outside the Two Rivers, finding the child, and bringing it back, everyone thinking that it was Tam's son. If Manetheren had to fall and be forgotten, so it might shelter the Dragon Reborn in it's youth, Tam needed to be propelled out of his home. And by not having a family to ask questions later, there were no chances anyone could learn that Rand was indeed a foundling. So I think that something happened to the entire al'Thor clan, leaving Tam to carry on alone.

Fanfic I would love to read/write about him: Tam fought in the Blood Snow, much as my other favourite Wot character did: Lan al'Madragoran. We know in canon they did not meet, as Lan wonders how Tam came by a heron-marked blade, and whether he had a right to it. An answer that is only given in the Last Battle itself, when Lan sees Tam fight. Meaning Lan's Malkieri and the Illianer Companions did not interact. Now, I would love to see a story, where those two actually meet in the days of the Siege of Tar Valon, maybe fighting Aiel together. A small story would be great, but a story where their meeting propels them both on a different path - that would be great. A Tam/Lan pairing even better. But that would be ta'veren levels of AU, and writing in WoT might still be way beyond my skill level.

Eskel from he Witcher

Who is this: Eskel is another Wolf Witcher, that readers first encounter when Geralt brings Ciri to Kaer Morhen, and Ciri gets frightened when she sees his face, because of his scars. Eskel is one of the Witchers who trains Ciri in Kaer Morhen, and Ciri has a vision about his death during her time there (among other pyromantic visions). In the games Eskel is a supporting character, trying to help Geralt with his memories and ultimately fighting in the battle of Kaer Morhen.

Quote: I'm a simple witcher, Wolf. Don't fight dragons, don't fraternize with kings and don't sleep with sorceresses…

Pet Headcanons I have: 1. In the games there is a throwaway line about Eskel coming from the Mountains, something that grew into my headcanon about Eskel's background and people.

Eskel's scars - I feel that the explanation we get in the games is rather sloppy storytelling and doesn't make sense of several levels. So I still hold onto my own stories about the scars, that I had long before the games came out.

Big Brother: in my head canon Eskel is the older and more reliable brother of Geralt, sensible, steady and less given to temper. A bit of a big teddy-bear in some aspects, but also a grounding anchor for his younger brothers.

Fanfic I would love to write about him: Ummm… already wrote a bunch.

General Bel Riose from Foundation

Who is this: In the books we get to know Bel Riose as "The last of the Imperials", an Imperial General of immense skill, born in the waning days of the Galactic Empire. He ultimately gets executed by Emperor Clean for treason. In the TV series we get more time with him, see the consequences of his earlier fallout with Cleon, and see how Bel Riose takes on the Foundation. We also get to see him as a loving husband, and get torn apart when he is forced to fire on the planet where his husband has crash-landed, and having nothing left to lose, turning on Cleon, and damn, if he doesn't give Cleon a long deserved beating. Of course Bel dies, in the explosion of the ships, thanks to the chain reaction his spaces navigator caused.

Quotes: "To those who fight and ask why."

Pet Headcanons: 1. His reasons for not refusing to fire on Terminus. It is heavy implied in the series that Bel Riose does not rebel, because he has seen the anarchy outside the Empire, and is convinced that even a bad Emperor is better than none. And I think most of us watching expected him to rise up, when Cleon orders him to fire on Terminus with Glawen still grounded down there. I believe that at this point Rios knew that he was doomed, and most likely Glawen with him, if one considers Cleon's nature. So actually firing that shot, knowing that it will Glawen a swift and clean death, was an act of love, sparing Glawen the suffering that would await otherwise. And I think Glawen thought the same when he told Bel to do it. Glawen knew, with his own death, Bel would be free to act against the Emperor.

He saw the space plan coming. I am utterly convinced of this. Bel had a respectful friendship with his spacer navigator and I think he knew her well. He'd have seen something coming, and maybe he let it happen, because while he himself wasn't a man to rebel, he saw why others would. I also cannot see the spacer, who has a really good connection to her General, and respects him, would quite betray him like that.

I think he studied some illegal things about Seldon and his theories.

Fanfic I would love to write about him: I would love to write an AU where things go differently, simply because Bel didn't deserve to go down like this. Full Stop. This would be the one where both he and Glawen survive. I'd also be intrigued by one where only Bel survived, though heck - that man would become a total problem for the Empire. Or an AU where Glawen was drawn more on Cleon's side and they both are seperated, even as Cleon still sends Bel against the Foundation, while keeping Glawen for himself. Very chaotic ideas on that one.

General John Dixter from "Star of the Guardians"

Who is this: General John Dixter is the youngest roxal General in the book series, and in love with Guardian Maigrey Morianna, though he knows she only sees him as a friend. During the Revolution he helps Maigrey escape, and find medical help, though she later ditches him and escapes on her own. John becomes a mercenary, trying to forget and rising to a respected mercenary leader. Even his rival, Lord Derek Sagan respects his military skills. John is drawn into that fight again, by encountering young Dion Starfire, and recognizing that this is the child, that Maigrey talked about in the night of the revolution. He finds and loses Maigrey again, in the following events, and ultimately becomes Lord Admiral in service of young King Dion, to rebuild the Royal Military in an honourable fashion. One thing that stands about John, outside his military skills, is that even as his love for Maigrey will never go anywhere, he never gets bitter or jealous about it. He knows she will never love him back, and he is a reliable friend to her, no matter what. Even including walking into the jaws of one Derek Sagan again, or facing torture at that man's hands. John shows an incredible strength of character during all of this, and in between all the blood Royal he often is the person with the best common sense.

Quotes:

Pet Headcanons: 1. In spite of Maigrey professing her hope that John found someone else in the intervening years, I don't believe she'd really have been all that happy with it.

It would have made one hell of a friendship had Derek and John each other, before John met Maigrey.

John sensed/felt/knew that Maigrey was not dead, which is why he never got over her.

John's incurable space sickness, is (as Dr. Giesk, the old creep rightly assumed) psychological not physiological and it links back to a trauma from his youth that he's surpressing in his mind (or that was taken from him by a Guardian).

Fanfic I would love to write about him: One story I would like to write, is about his life after the book events, maybe set during or after the MagForce7 books. A story where now that Maigrey is truly gone, John finds a new life, one not defined by his grief. I also would love some deeper story about John's work rebuilding the Royal Military. I would also like that story to adress a few inconsistencies about the Revolution, and maybe the source of John's space-sickness. But definitely a story of him finding love, when he did not expect that to happen any more.

tagging @do-androids-dream-ao3acc, @regis-favorite-raven, @tigerlyla-of-metinna, @andordean, and @ginstermoff to answer the same question.

[mithology-marveloholick]

*taps the mic* I'm back on my lore bullshit

The prophecy: "The Ancient Darkness will long last rise, and Black Clouds will eclipse the Sun. The Seeker of Light will be bound by Abyssal Chains, and the Servants of Darkness will grasp their Promised Glory. Ye who has faced the Darkness. Two shall be forgotten and Three shall halt in place. Where Two fade away and Three depart, only Four shall remain. In the end, as Dawn cuts through the Darkness, One shall vanish"

Based on the poster and the official in game list of 12 WoT heroes, the major players of the WoT are:

- Lord aka Traveller

- Philip

- Louisa

- Syphride

- Brandon

- Ondal

- Arkanath

- Walther

- Aslan

- Helga

- Raligon

- Icateztol

- Rozelic

- Miriande

- Ahilam Solas

So, knowing what we know about each character (9 recruitable WoT heroes) and all 12 now introduced, we can safely say that:

- "The seeker of Ligh will be bound by Abyssal Chains" - This one is Ahilam as from what we learned in the Book of Truth part 1: she was locked in an abandoned temple that was filled with loose curses. She was locked (?) and was a statue there. So, we can safely assume that she is the seeker, especially considering her titles of "The Last Hope, Unyielding Solar Guardian"

- "One will vanish" - this one is Lord obvs, they randomly appeared in the story to witness the history so during the final battle after the dust settles, Lord will "vanish" and return to their timeline

- "Two shall be forgotten" - that is Philip and Louisa. Based on the poster they will play a big role in the Book of Truth, more than Laphaes or Rosanna. In the normal, hard and extreme mode they have not been mentioned once. Not even by Schneider, the resident lore enthusiast. Plus adding to it that the striker set is called "Lost Hero's [blank]" and Louisa was seen in game using the spear as her weapon

- "Three shall depart" - this doesn't sound like the 3 will die, more like they are still alive but have left and live away from the civilization, so my guess is those 3 are: Miriande, Icateztol and Rozelic, as they live far away from the civilazation

- "Four shall remain" - my guess this talks about Helga, Walther, Aslan and Brandon - the four that remained on the central and eastern continent (Isola, Dakkeon and Gallus)

Now the most tricky parts are "Three shall halt in place" and "Two fade away".

Based on the extreme mode, Ahilam and Arkanath had fallen in battle. Raligon had sacrificed himself so I would say they are the ones who "half in place" aka they die

- "Two fade away" - I would say that means Ondal and Syphfride but in a different way, Ondal dies, while Syphfride takes a step back from the world. She leaves completly, not even wanting to come back to help when Avillon was fighting with Gallus

And that my gamers, is a game theory