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dreamlandcreations · 10 months ago

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Chapter 1 • Faded dreams

Feyd x Atreides!Reader

Summary: You risk your life to find out what your dreams mean...

Warnings: space drugs (🙈), near death experience, mention of blood and death and war, no dialogue, no Feyd yet (well...), this is basically a prologue

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Your dreams were getting worse and it was getting more difficult to wake up each time. They seemed so real, yet they fade away each time within seconds as you finally jolt awake from the nightmares. All that remains is fear and a knowing that you are seeing the end.

You tried to ask your mother for help, well, more like tried to ask for information without telling her what's going on. Paul's own dreams were a good excuse to justify your curiosity but it also limited your options of inquiring about your specifically maddening problem. Because, of course your brother gets to dream about a pretty girl while you drown in a bloody nightmare every night. If only you could see more clearly, the not knowing of what these hazy images mean is almost worse than the death you witness each time.

You can't tell your mother though, or even Paul. They would try to stop you from making this utterly stupid decision that will probably result in your death. They wouldn't be able to understand that that possibility cannot be worse than this slowly driving you into insanity.

It was not as difficult as you thought, tricking a mentat, a doctor and a Bene Gesserit to give you little doses of spice to try. According to your careful research, with what you were gifted by Lady Fenring on her last visit, it should be enough to induce the process.

You waited until nighttime, until you knew everyone went to sleep. It was an unnecessary precaution as it turns out because Paul in the next room startled awake as soon as you took the spice.

With your last coherent thought you were thinking that getting hit by lightning must feel something like this. Only the energy didn't just hit you once, it was trapped inside your body, wreaking havoc in the very essence of your being. It was tearing you apart, and the pain was unbearable.

For a long while there was nothing but the pain, you did not really feel or sense anything. Then the first thing you were aware of was screaming, it took you a moment to realise it was your own, just before you had another wave of power rushing through you and you lost every bit of control over your body. The screaming stopped and you faintly heard your mother for a few seconds before the dreams drew you in.

No, not dreams, visions. You see everything all at once, and at first none of it made sense then you felt... time, in a way it couldn't be explained in words. The connections, the possibilities, the what ifs... like the branches of a tree... too many variants for even a mentat to handle and you were only half-trained at best. Yet, you understood, no, you felt, you sensed, you became a part of each version a little, living in a million moments at once, spread apart and yet still whole beneath that... like the branches of a tree...

The tree, your ancestry, you have to get to the other memory to finish the trial. You try to look within yourself, slightly distracted by regaining some of your physical sense and weakly trying to fight off the poison of the spice.

At the end of the spiral you see a figure, a source of all the death and misery that haunts you. A familiar, yet strange face that seemed to look into your soul. There is that rage and madness you started to see in your own reflection, only this gaze, this unnatural blue scared you more than your own demons.

Well, she is your demon in a way.

With that thought the spice floods your mind again, taking you where you wanted to go, forcing you down on the line of your ancestors, their knowledge and experience becoming a part of your consciousness but you know something is terribly wrong when your mind takes a path that no Bene Gesserit has before. You see your father and his entire line, both female and male members of your extended family tree on his part. And it comes surprisingly easy to you, too easy.

Your mother's line stops with her, there's something horrible beyond that which your mind cannot deal with and it almost shatters you.

On the inside you struggle to get out of the darkness that pulls you in. On the outside your body crashes, your heart stops, and so does your breathing.

You hear Paul's yell to the doctor to do something, followed by your mother's command, using the Voice to order you to breathe. With your last bit of strength leaving you, it feels like what you would call your soul starts to leave your body. It is quite peaceful actually, there's no more pain or worry, only a calm nothingness but unlike the previous cold and twisted darkness that came from within this feels right and you almost slip away from existence when you feel something, someone catch you and practically drag you back.

There's a voice, a command of a simple "No!" comes with the force that knocks you down and holds you in this world. The tone is unfamiliar, the raspy voice with the obvious rage laced into it sounds more like a growl than anything else and it is followed by a similarly angry, yet so much louder order, "FIGHT!"

The presence is gone as soon as it came but you are tethered to your body again, feeling how it shuts down sparks a sudden defiance in you. Not really knowing what you're doing, you will your heart's muscles to move, to pump the remaining spice through your body and your cells absorb it, sparkling to new life, then you slowly and now consciously start to sort of reboot your system with this new strange energy.

When you are done you just rest, unable to truly sleep but too tired to move too, you think. Going through the visions again and again, you start to see a pattern. As soon as you understand the reasons behind the events, it all comes together, all the previously possible paths become clear until a certain point.

Hours go by as you lie there, practically trapped in your own body but there's no fear in you anymore, you are too busy planning your next move. And the next, and the next.

You might have failed getting through the Spice Agony and it's a miracle you are alive but it doesn't matter, it wasn't an unnecessary risk after all, you know the truth now. There is only one person who's decisions changed the end game, all the others who you thought had enough power to be key persons could only influence the path, not the outcome. So you know, your mother can never set foot on Arrakis and if you have to take her place in the story, so be it.

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#feyd #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x you #my stuff #my fics

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years ago

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What's your price?

Request: For your inspire me challenge, can I request a dark! Tony Stark x f! Reader with smut ? Reader would be a intern for SI? And he tries to flirt with her but she rejects him everytime cause she has no interest so he kidnaps her or blackmails her into being a relationship with him?

AN: Thank you @ironlady1993 (it won't let me tag you!) for your request. This ended up being more soft!dark! than actual dark! but I hope that you still enjoy it. I haven’t written for Tony very often, but I hope this works.

Beta’d by @buckyismybicycle

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Relationship: Soft! Dark! Tony Stark x Naive! Intern Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

CW:Toxic Narcissist Tony, Sexual Harassment, Manipulation, Dub-con, implied smut, shifting POV

Tony was well aware that he was spoiled - he was uber-rich for God’s sake, it would be a miracle if he wasn’t. He was also aware that everything and everyone was for sale; it was just a matter of finding the right currency, and he could always afford it, no matter what it was. Just look at Pepper.

He’d wanted her and he’d got her, all it had cost him was making her CEO of the company. She’d thought it important, but Tony hadn’t, and still didn’t. The company could fold tomorrow or never trade again, and he would continue to sit in the lap of luxury until his final breath. And even though he’d gotten bored of her, it paid to keep her sweet and let her remain in the role that she thought gave her power.

Most times it was easy to gain what he craved - for most people a direct monetary transaction was enough. However, sometimes it took a bit longer to find the right… motivator. He never minded though. These instances normally had a better payoff. Truth be told, it was a rare occurrence he had to actually put work in and he enjoyed the novelty. And what a novelty you were.

In some ways you reminded him of Pepper. You were clever, beautiful, and competent. However, with you, Tony sensed a softness, a caring and loving soul. He wondered if that’s what had been missing from his life so far? But, you also appeared to have a strong moral code. Tony could respect that, but he would admit it was getting just a little frustrating.

He’d never had to work this hard to encourage an intern to sleep with him. In fact, he’d never really had to do anything other than ask - most people would give a limb or promise their first born child, for such an invitation. Also, not to blow his own trumpet, he was a good lover. A considerate lover. All parties came away satisfied. Yet, you seemed to not want it.

He was sure you were just playing hard to get - holding out for something more. He just had to discover what it was that you wanted from him, because everybody always wanted something from him. Everybody always had a price.

You groaned as you got out of bed and got ready for your day. Why was your life such a gigantic mess, when initially it had looked so promising? When you told people that you interned at Stark Industries, they couldn’t believe your luck. You let out a derisive snort.

Luck? Huh!

If you were so lucky, why were you living in a shitty apartment? If you were so lucky, why were you broke? And if you were so lucky, why were you having to go out of your way everyday to avoid your boss?

You knew the reason for the first two; the reason that all of your money disappeared as soon as it hit your account, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was a choice you’d made and you’d make the same choice over and over again. The third thing, though? As far as you were aware, you hadn’t done anything specific to attract his attention.

Like anyone, when you’d first met Tony Stark you were in awe. He was a genius, a billionaire and very handsome. He was charismatic, not afraid to muck in with anyone he worked with, and knew everyone’s names. However, it didn’t take you long to realise he was a raging ego-maniac, not afraid to throw a temper tantrum when he didn’t get his way. His mood could spin on a dime and you’d seen your fair share of red flags in your life to know that no matter how tempting he was - and, boy, was he - accepting your boss’s overt offer would not be a good idea.

When you’d initially turned him down, you’d been worried that you’d lose your position, but that hammer hadn’t fallen, and you’d breathed a huge sigh of relief. You had enough to worry about without adding unemployment into the mix.

With another sigh, you grabbed your keys, SI pass, purse and jacket, and headed out of your dingy accommodation towards the subway.

“Come on, Sugar-pie. What could one little drink hurt?”

You kept your eyes on the papers in front of you, trying not to roll them, as your erstwhile suitor leant over your desk, his index finger resting on the wood right next to your hand, oh-so-close to stroking your skin.

“Mr. Stark-”

“-Tony.”

You couldn’t hold back your sigh of irritation.

“Tony. I’m working. I’m busy. I have all these reports to go over.”

His hand moved away from yours, but in the next second your head was being tilted up, away from where you were studiously focusing, by pressure exerted under your chin.

Tony’s handsome face came into focus, with his sparkling whisky dark eyes, and dark brown, almost black facial hair, trimmed with precision, surrounding pink lips that twitched with amusement.

“You do know I’m the boss and I could order you not to do the reports.”

“I think you’ll find that Ms. Potts is the boss, and she’s the one who asked me to do them.”

Tony obviously didn’t have the same qualms as you about rolling his eyes in a professional setting.

“Pphht! Don’t worry about Pep. She’s only the boss cos I let her be.”

You pushed your chair back, removing your face from his touch.

“Look, Mr. Stark,” You raised your hand when he was about to protest his title, again. “I’m flattered. I really am. But I’m not interested, and I’d really just like to get on with my work. I’m sure you have more suits to tinker with and other interns to flirt with.”

He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and observed you for a moment.

“Fine. Have it your way for now, Sugar-pie.” His tone was light, amusement etched across his features, but there was an undercurrent of… something as he spoke. “I know you like me and you’re just playing hard to get. I’ll see you later.” He turned on his heels, shoved his hands in pants pockets and walked away from your desk, jauntily whistling.

At half past five you pushed back your chair and stood, letting out a groan as you did. Your eyes were tired from going over the reports all day, and now you just had to turn them in with your overview and comments, so you could finally make your way home.

With the stash of manilla folders in hand you walked down the corridor to Pepper’s office. She’d be gone by now - she’d let you know earlier in the day that she had an external meeting and that you should just leave the reports on her desk for the next morning.

Pushing open the door, you headed towards her pristinely organised desk, placed the folders with their cover note front and centre, turned around and… screamed.

You literally jumped in the air, your hands coming up to your chest.

Tony smiled at you from where he was leaning against the bookcase next to the door.

“Hey, Sugar-pie. I know I’m a catch, but no need to jump out of your skin for me.”

He stood up and walked towards you. No, stalked towards you like a sleek leopard in the jungle, tracking its prey. You didn’t even realise you were backing up until your lower back connected with the edge of the desk.

“Umm… Mr. Stark…”

He leant one hand on the desk, next to your hip and raised the other to press a finger to your mouth.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me Tony. And are we going to go get that drink?”

Frustration welled within you.

“And how many times do I have to tell you, Mr Stark, that I’m not interested.” You pushed away from him and made your way towards the door, but were halted in your tracks by what he said next.

“Not even to help your grandmother?”

You didn’t turn, but your hands tensed into fists.

“What did you say?” The words left your lips as an angry hiss.

“Your grandmother. She’s in that crappy hospital in Queens, right?” You felt him come up behind you, his breath hitting your ear from how close he was. “She’s not doing too well, is she? I’m sure I could make her a lot more comfortable. Move her to a better hospital here in Manhattan. The best doctors, the best nurses.”

Tony’s hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking where your blouse met the waistband of your pencil skirt, yet you didn’t pull away and anger flared within you, directed at yourself for not moving. His body shifted even closer so his front pressed against your back, and you could feel his arousal.

Bile burned your throat. This was all wrong, yet… you were considering it. Considering prostituting yourself because, dammit, Tony could make a big difference to your grandmother’s remaining days. And would it really be that bad? You’d heard the rumours of his bedroom prowess, and you did find him attractive.

“W-what would happen? When you get bored?”

“You think I’d get bored of you, Sugar-pie? Don’t put yourself down.” His hands slid around your waist and you lowered your eyes, unable to resist watching as he placed his left one on your stomach and his right underneath, his be-ringed pinky finger resting on your mound. “But to illustrate a point, Pepper’s still CEO isn’t she? That was her price. Yours is care and safety for your grandmother.”

You almost baulked at it being put so bluntly, but Tony’s arms held you firm. “Don’t be embarrassed. Everyone has their price and I’m more than willing to pay yours. Your grandmother could live another hundred years and it wouldn’t make a dent in my bank account.”

“You could just do it out of the goodness of your heart then, if the money means so little.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

His head came even closer and he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, over your pulse point, threatening to rip away the last shred of your morals and self-control.

“This is manipulation, Mr. Stark.”

“Think of it more as a business transaction if it makes you feel better.” He placed a second kiss on your now heated skin and you bit your lip. “I’ll be good to you, Sugar-pie. You’ll be on my arm, dressed as befits beauty such as yours. Other men will want you, but you’ll forget all about them when you’re in my bed.”

He started to sway, moving your body with his. His right hand lowered, fully resting over your sex, gently cupping it. Again, you didn’t pull away, didn’t make any move to dissuade him. You should be though. Your moral compass was screaming at you, but your body was ignoring it in favour of the dizzying sensations that even these few small touches were eliciting and your mind was hurriedly weighing up your options.

“So… just to recap… I date you, publicly. Be your arm candy, warm your bed, and you move my grandmother to the best facility in Manhattan, and will continue to pay for her comfort and care, even if she outlives your interest in me. What if she passes away before then?”

You hadn’t even agreed to his proposition, but his right hand was slowly pulling up your skirt, the fabric concertina-ing around your abdomen, and his left was deftly undoing button after button on your blouse. You realised that your own hands were no longer balled into fists or lying limply at your sides - they were clutching at the outside of his thighs, anchoring yourself to him.

“Then you would be free to end our association, unless we came to some other arrangement. However, I’d like to think that you wouldn’t want to, though. That you would be so enraptured by my attention, my care, that you’d never want to leave.”

As he started to drag the woven cotton from your left shoulder, you instinctively tilted your neck, giving him greater access to your skin. An involuntary sigh escaped your lips as his mouth travelled over your shoulder, his facial hair tickling your skin.

You screwed your eyes shut, knowing that this was the point of no return. He’d already won. He knew it. You knew it.

“I- I agree, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony, Sugar-pie. You really have to use my name now. At least in public. If you prefer another title for private, I’m quite happy with Sir, or even Daddy.”

Oh fuck! Just the thought of using one of those, of submitting to him in such a way was sending you into free fall. You hated how easily you’d succumbed. However, you were jerked out of it, when Tony suddenly took a step back from you.

You whirled around in shock, clothing completely dishevelled. Tony had his phone to his ear, acting for all the world as though he didn’t have an erection straining the fabric of his designer suit jacket.

“Happy? Yes, get it all sorted, please. An agreement has been made.”

The conversation was short and pointed, ending after a few seconds, and Tony tossed his phone onto Pepper’s desk before reaching up to loosen his tie and pop the top button of his shirt. Then, in one stride he was back in front of you, his left arm around your waist, pulling you to him, and his right brushing over your hair. You looked up at him, saw the twitch of his lips and felt yourself pulled into the depths of his eyes.

“Now, where were we, Sugar-pie?”

His lips descended and just before his kisses made you entirely senseless, you wondered if you’d regret this decision. You hadn’t ever thought things would turn out like this, but it turned out you had a price after all.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

#tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x reader #late writes #tony stark x you #soft!dark!Tony Stark #soft dark tony stark #tw: manipulation #fic request

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gunnrblze · 5 months ago

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Okay so your moodboard for Keegan and Ajax got me thinking (plus that old ask way back comparing Keegan and Ajax to the moon and sun respectively) I apologize in advance for my ramblings and the length of this

My song of choice is The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives (aka one of my favorite songs)

"Tell me once again I could have been anyone, anyone else before you made the choice for me."

Basically.. Sandviper. It all set into motion Keegan and Ajax becoming Ghosts -> Ajax's eventual demise

"My feet knew the path we walked in the dark, in the dark, I never gave a single thought where it might lead."

Keegan and Ajax became Ghosts together, walking the same path. In their line of work, you can't really know where the future will go, so they might have tried to live life in the present savoring the moments they had together

"All those empty rooms, we could have been anywhere, anywhere else. Instead I made a bed with apathy."

This just reminds me of Keegan searching for Ajax during struck down, clearing room through room searching for him. I feel like part of Keegan knew Ajax wasn't making it out alive.

"My heart knew the weight, ten years' worth of dust and neglect, we made our peace with weariness and let it be."

More Sandviper for the soul. Your honor, they're tired

"The moon will sing a song for me, I loved you like the sun. Bore the shadows that you made with no light of my own."

I like to think Ajax brought out the best in Keegan, the sun shining his light onto him in a sense. Without the sun's light, you can't see the moon. They both had dark parts of their lives, but Keegan was more than willing to bear both of their pasts if it meant Ajax would continue to shine. Extrovert with their adopted introvert my beloved

"I shine only with the light you gave me." x2

Keegan was aggressive, desperate to get his other half back. He goes from yelling at Federation soldiers to cradling Ajax's body, carrying him with reverence as he's just lost part of his soul, his source of light

"Name your courage now, we could have had anything, anything else instead you hoarded all that's left of me."

Keegan towards Rorke no doubt. Not sticking around for a fight after killing one of their own? Coward. Rorke took the greatest thing in Keegan's life and didn't even hang around to see what he caused- leaving Ajax to have to drop the bombshell that Rorke was hunting Ghosts.

"Swallowing your doubt, like swords to the pit of my belly. I want to feel the fire that you kept from me."

More Keegan vs Rorke here. I'd say if Hesh wasn't the most likely to kill Rorke, Keegan would be a runner up as Ajax's death definitely hurt. What hurts more is that Ajax died from a stab to the stomach by a Federation soldier (like swords to the pit of my belly)

Anyways thanks for letting me lyric dump, I love The Crane Wives and have plenty of other songs that get me thinking about the Ghosts. I hope this made sense

HELLOOOO WHAT?😭 i literally love this song, but the Keejax breakdown? MY HEART omg, makes total sense ur a genius. This is literally their song I’m afraid, such a good dissection of them

“I shine only with the light you gave me” I’ll cry rn

#thank you bestie this made me feel insane #call of duty ghosts #keegan russ #alex ajax johnson #keegan russ x alex ajax johnson #keejax #gunnrblze rambles

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galway-girlatwork · 1 month ago

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WIP Thursday

Well according to Megan, if I wanted to play, I just needed to consider myself tagged. Now who am I to argue with such sound advice?

I have more WIP's than I can fuckin shake a stick at and one resolution was to not start anymore until the ones I have are done.

In saying that I am currently working on Freya and Jo's...

For Jo's-It is her epistolary for her DEAR-UARY. I got Din and the prompt is "This might be the first fight in history solved entirely through XX." I went with through journal entries. Snip below:

Eve,

I’m sorry. I know those words feel empty right now, but they’re true. I hate that I let you down. I was stuck in that deposition, and all I could think about was getting out in time to make it to your concert. But by the time I looked at the clock, it was too late. I didn’t call because I didn’t want to hear the disappointment in your voice. That’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.

Din,

Thank you for saying you’re sorry. But it’s not just about that one night. This has been building for a long time. I feel like I’m always fighting for a place in your life. You’re so good at what you do, and I’m proud of you, but sometimes I feel invisible. Do you even see me anymore? I don't think you do and I don't know if any of this is working any more.

This is for Freya's angst challenge. I am so messing with history on this. The moodboard she made is fuckin beautiful. It is Oberyn and well angst. I sent this snip to Jana, and she said "she already loves it and that it's gonna hurt so good." Love ya Jana. Snip below:

“Father why has this happened, you need to fix this, now. It is the closest I’ve been to him remembering. I can’t take this constant crushing hurt. We were so close.”

“I cannot. You know this. All the lives you’ve led with him will end the same, until he remembers. My child, you wanted your humanity for this man, this is the price you must pay for it.”

He watched his child collapse on the cold stone floor, great sobs wrenched from her soul, hating to see her in this kind of pain. Enveloping her within the folds of his cloak, shielding her from prying eyes, trying to give comfort as best he could. “Lilith, I must ask, is this man worth what you have gone through? What you will continue to go through?”

“Always father.”

Tagging @jolapeno @almostfoxglove @guiltyasdave @goodwithcheese and @saradika-graphics for the awesome divider.

#my wips #din djarin #oberyn martell #angst #writing challenge #wip wednesday #wip thursday #cause i'm a day late

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legolasbadass · 2 years ago

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The Shadows Which Fire Throws

Summary: Thorin thought he had lost everything when the dragon came and forced the dwarves of Erebor out of their homeland, but when his brother Frerin perishes in the climactic battle in their years-long war against the orcs, Thorin discovers the true meaning of loss. A few years after the Battle of Azanulbizar, Thorin travels from village to village, seeking work as a blacksmith so he can help support his family. One day, he catches young boys playing near the forge, and the sight brings back memories of his childhood in Erebor and his brother, whom he misses dearly.

Relationship: Thorin & Dís & Frerin

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This is my entry for @thorinsspringforge! Thank you to my amazing friend and partner for this event @lathalea for all your support and feedback. She created a wonderful moodboard (see above) for the event, so make sure you give her some love for that❤️

The fire of the forge burned in Thorin’s eyes as he swung the hammer down on the anvil with such force that he felt the blow reverberate through his body. Another day of work. Another day of enduring suspicions from Men. The skills of the Dwarves were revered in all Middle-earth, but the Dwarves themselves were looked upon with disdain—like a foreign curiosity that did not belong in this part of the world.

Thorin, once the heir to the most powerful kingdom of Dwarves, was now forced to wander the villages of Men and beg for work. An ache stabbed his chest as the sight of Erebor returned to his mind, unbidden. The halls bathed in golden light. The roaring fires and the songs of the blacksmiths echoing through the forges. Thorin tried to banish the memories by focusing on the task at hand—by reminding himself that he was but a blacksmith now and Erebor was lost, but that only reminded him of just that—everything he had lost. With each blow of the hammer, images of his homeland tore at his soul. But working as a blacksmith was the only way he managed to feed his family, so he swallowed back the pain and carried on.

It was spring now—but that hardly mattered. It was always warm in the smithy, and Thorin cared not for the little things which made the passing of seasons so marvellous to ordinary folk. Leaves turning to fire and gold and coming to rest on the forest floor. A blanket of glittering snow enveloping the land. Flowers waking from their sleep, bathing in the morning mist. It only reminded him of how quickly his life was slipping by him. And Thorin did not want to be reminded of that.

Outside the dark smithy, the village carried on as it always did. Farmers visiting from nearby lands and stopping at the dilapidated inn around the corner for a pint or two. Carts rolling on the muddy streets toward the market, where bakers and butchers and even a weaver or two sold goods to their neighbours. Travellers seldom stumbled upon this corner of the world. It was forgotten. A mere shadow of what it had been in days of old.

Just like him.

On the other side of the narrow street from the smithy was a group of young boys. They were playing a game involving dice Thorin knew from his childhood. Thorin found that fascinating—how children of different races, in all corners of the world, played the same games—but he might have found more joy in the sight if it did not remind him so much of his late brother.

Frerin had been such a lively boy, always pranking his siblings—and unsuspecting adults. Always smiling and laughing. Thorin supposed he must have been that way, too, once. At least, that was what the stories his mother had recounted and his memories told him. But he often felt like those memories did not even belong to him. They belonged to another life. And now, only the cracks in his heart remained as proof that once, he had been that young boy. Full of life. Full of hope. Even his body sometimes did not feel like his own. His mother used to say that there was honour and glory to be found in scars, for they marked a warrior’s victories. Thorin’s body was a map of all the fights he had survived, yes, but there was nothing glorious about it. It was a reminder of all the people he had lost—all those he had failed to protect.

The sun was rising, lighting the mountains on fire, as the dwarves made their final approach toward the Dimrill Dale. Toward the last battle of this terrible war that had already cost them countless lives. The other houses of dwarves had sent troops to aid the Longbeards from all corners of Middle-earth. Before they marched upon the gate, King Thrain spoke to the soldiers ahead of the battle. He spoke of avenging the late King Thrór, Thorin’s grandfather, and of reclaiming the halls of their forefathers. He spoke of honour and glory, but as Thorin glanced back at Frerin, all he could think of was to protect. His brother was far too young for war—too young for all the atrocities the world had thrown at him—but it was too late.

Thorin instructed Frerin to stay by his side. He promised he would keep him safe, but even as he spoke, he knew he did not have the power to make such a promise. Only Mahal could have saved him then, but that was not as reassuring to the exiled prince as it once would have been.

But Frerin smiled back at him. He was afraid, but he was even more determined. Durin’s folk do not flee from a fight, he had said, speaking the ancient words of their house, which their father had so often spoken to them in their youth.

The swoosh of a blade. Splashes of blood. His sword stained black. It reminded him of a quill dipped in ink before it is thrust into parchment by a poet to write words celebrating life and love and beauty. But this was no such tale.

This was a tragedy.

He remembered being a young boy in Erebor, standing in the training grounds, his brother and sister at his side. Always at his side. Together, they mastered the sword, the axe, the bow, and all other such arts their teachers deemed fit for the heirs of Durin to learn. Back then, it had all seemed like a game—a game with no real consequences other than a few bruises the next day. A game at which you always got a second chance. But as the battle drew on and the bodies piled up around him, Thorin knew this was no game. There would be no second chance.

When the first scream tore through the air, Thorin’s blood froze in his veins, and he felt the blow of the mace as though it had struck his own chest. With a deafening cry that could have brought down the mountains from Angmar to Methedras, Thorin tore through the orcs to stand between his brother and his enemy and raised his shield to cover them both. A pale orc with scars carved deep into his twisted, evil face looked down at him. Thorin used all the strength remaining in his body to defeat the orc, not stopping even when his shield was ripped from his hands and he was forced to defend himself with an oaken branch. And by the time Thorin defeated the orc and he could rush to his brother’s side, it was too late.

The snow-covered ground was soaked with blood.

Thorin remembered running through the forest just outside Erebor as a young dwarf, trying to catch up to Frerin and Dís. It was a game; he would close his eyes and let them hide, and then he would have to find them. Thorin was getting old for such activities, but he could never refuse his siblings. The air smelled of bluebells and cornflowers, and golden beams of sunlight snuck through the green canopy overhead, lighting his path deeper into the woods. That day, Thorin was having more trouble than usual finding his siblings, but he was not worried. He could hear their muffled giggles, telling him they were not far, and Thorin knew that no matter the obstacles, they always found their way to each other eventually.

Frerin always came back to him—until now.

When the wicked worm attacked Erebor, desecrating their fathers’ halls and robbing them of their home, Thorin thought he had experienced the most terrible tragedy. But as he stood in the grave that had become Azanulbizar, holding onto Frerin’s limp, lifeless body, he finally understood the true meaning of loss. His tears mingled with the blood and dirt on his cheeks. He looked up to the cloudy sky; the moon was hiding that night, but a few stars looked upon the desolation. Was Mahal up there, watching them? If he was, why did he not help them? Had one of Thorin’s ancestors offended Mahal somehow, and thus doomed their line forever?

When, many hours later, Thorin was forced to bid his brother farewell, he took from his belt a dagger, and as his blood-stained hand wrapped itself around the hilt, he vowed to carry it with him for as long as he lived. Thorin wished Dís had been there, for he truly believed that the three of them together could face anything. They could have protected him together, just like when they were innocent dwarflings.

“Thorin?”

A gentle voice, like the melodious singing of the first birds in spring, pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up from the anvil to find Dís standing in the doorway, the golden light of the setting sun making her silhouette glow. A soft, sad smile tugged at her lips as she watched him uncertainly.

“What are you still doing here, brother?” she asked. “Night is falling.”

“I must have lost track of time,” Thorin replied absently, trying to chase away the memories still floating in his mind, to no avail. “I will join you in a moment.”

Dís nodded, and as she turned around to wait outside, the silver beads in her raven hair and beard gleamed in the last rays of the sun, and Thorin was reminded of how the sun used to shine upon the highest peak of the Lonely Mountain.

When Thorin stepped out of the smithy some time later and locked the door, night had fallen. Only a thin stream of gold peaking over the horizon remained.

“Will you tell me what is on your mind?” Dís asked hesitantly.

Stone walls. The hard floor of the training ground as laughter echoed all around him. Pine needles burning under the dragon’s fiery breath. His shield crashing against the bloodied rocks.

“I was thinking of Frerin.”

A shadow fell over Dís’ fair face, and she reached out to squeeze his hand. They had rarely spoken of him since the war. In the months following Azanulbizar, all had wept for Frerin, but the pain was too great, and his memory became a wound that refused to heal. His father had always buried his emotions, and with time, Thorin decided that he must do the same. That was the only way he could survive this agony. And now Dís was married, and soon she would have her own family, so it did not feel right to burden her with his grief. It did not feel right to taint her new life with the horrors of the past which refused to let go of him. As such, he was not sure why he uttered their brother’s name on this spring evening, as night swallowed the village in its blue cloak.

“I miss him terribly.” Dís admitted after a long moment of silence, her voice low, as though she was afraid to speak those words. She surprised Thorin again when she said, “Do you remember when we were children, how the Mountain would sometimes wake and Amad would sing to us to comfort us?”

Thorin remembered; as a child, the tremors had frightened him, for he had not understood them. His mother would wrap her arms around all three of them, and her voice would banish all evils lurking in the depths of the Mountain. He remembered her fair voice—so similar to his sister’s—and the gentle touch of her hands against his shoulder. He would have smiled at the memory if it did not hurt so much. He desperately wanted to stop talking about it, but he owed it to Dís, whom he had disappointed too often. Despite the tears clouding her vision, she seemed to derive comfort from the memory.

“Of course, I remember. You would press your little body against me and I would not be allowed to let go until you deemed it was safe—and that often meant holding you until you fell asleep.”

Dís smiled wistfully, and when she reached out for his hand and leaned her head into his shoulder, Thorin momentarily felt once more like a young dwarf whose only heroic feat to date was chasing his sister’s nightmares away.

Dís went on, her voice heavy with emotion. “When her singing was not enough to comfort me, I remember her telling me that as long as we had each other—you, me, and Frerin—then all would be well.”

The scream. The blood. His brother’s eyes looking back at him for the last time.

“I am so sorry, Dís. It is all my fault.”

His sister’s misty eyes sought his gaze in vain. “You did everything you could to protect him.”

If he had, Frerin would still be here. Thorin had failed him—he had failed them both.

Dís’ sniffling pulled him back to the present, and though Thorin barely had enough strength to maintain his composure, he pulled his sister into his arms and held her tight, hoping he could offer her the comfort he sought so desperately.

“Even after all this time, I hate myself for not having been at his side. Perhaps things might have turned out differently….” She shook her head. “But I was not, and we cannot change the past. So I beg you, brother, do not torture yourself needlessly. I cannot bear the thought of you suffering in silence.”

“And you need not worry yourself on my account. I am fine.”

Dís looked up at him and raised her eyebrows, knowing it was a lie. She was silent for a moment; the wind tore at her blue dress, and in her eyes, the light of the stars and moon shone brightly. “No matter what happens—no matter how much our lives may change—I will always be there for you, Thorin. Please do not ever doubt it. I could not save Frerin, but I am at your side. Always.”

A wistful smile lit up his tired face. He remembered when Dís was born. A storm raged on all day, but as night fell and her cries filled the royal chambers, the sky turned quiet, and the pale light of a crescent moon shone upon the mountain. He remembered, too, how her presence never failed to brighten even the darkest of days. Even after the dragon stole their home and they wandered through the wilderness, cold, starving, and exhausted, Dís could make anyone laugh. She could make anyone feel like there was a reason to keep going—like there was a reason to keep living. She was always the strongest of Durin’s heirs, and now, as Thorin pulled her into his arms, a weight was lifted from his shoulders. A weight that he had been carrying for longer than he could remember.

“And I am at yours, dearest sister.”

Her smaller hand took refuge in his as they walked in silence the rest of the way. High in the sky, a crescent moon illuminated their path.

Tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @mcchberry @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @laurfilijames @swoopswishsward @quiall321 @dianakc

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from my tag list! 💙

#TSF23 #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #thorin #thorin fanfic #dis #frerin #durin siblings

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agentstarkid · 3 months ago

Text

m e e t . . . vittoria sousa

(the joker & the queen's character moodboard & hc's)

�� Vittoria Micaela Sousa Lopes — March 8, 1997

☀ Vitto is the heart of sunshine, warmth, and endless good vibes from São José dos Campos, Brazil. With her Pisces soul, she moves through life with a dreamy quality, always smiling, always ready for a good time, and never far from a laugh.

☀ As a dancer and model, she’s got that natural grace. When Vitto joined Y/N’s first tour as a dancer nearly a decade ago, she had no idea it’d also be the start of their lifelong friendship. Now, they’re inseparable, and Vitto’s made herself a fixture in everyone’s lives, her positivity and laid-back attitude grounding the group in the best way.

☀ Vitto’s not only got moves on the dance floor—she’s also an incredible painter. Her house is full of vibrant canvases that reflect her creativity and passion, though few people know she’s a secret powerhouse singer too.

☀ She had Izabele at 24—totally unplanned but not unwanted—and prides herself on being a “cool mom,” letting Iza grow up surrounded by love, laughter, and creativity.

☀ She doesn’t take life too seriously and believes in embracing every moment, always saying things like “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be” with that easygoing smile.

☀ This woman is as nurturing as she is spirited—a natural caretaker who makes everyone feel at home the moment they’re with her. She’s the friend who’ll listen to your worries and give you the warmest hug, with a heart as vast as her imagination.

☀ If you’re feeling down, Vitto’s got you covered with a cozy blanket, some feijoada, and one of her all-encompassing hugs that instantly makes you feel lighter. And if she really wants to spoil you, she might whip up some Vatapá, her go-to comfort dish straight from Brazil, because she’s convinced there’s nothing that can’t be solved by good food and good company.

☀ Also when it comes to cheering people up, she’s got a foolproof method: spontaneous dance parties. Vitto will turn any moment into a mini carnival if it means getting a laugh or a smile out of someone.

☀ She’s absolutely obsessed with Guaraná Antarctica—it’s practically her fuel, and she’s got a mini stash of cans everywhere: her car, her bag, and even stashed at her friends’ places “just in case.” Whenever they’re out and she’s got her hands on one, she’ll jokingly say it’s “a taste of home” before downing it with a content sigh.

☀ Surfing is her favorite escape, and she gets a certain sparkle in her eye whenever she’s out catching waves.

☀ Most weekends, she’s got some DIY project going on at home, whether it’s painting murals in her living room or learning to make jewelry out of beach glass. Her place is like a treasure trove of her quirky collections, from vintage postcards to unique rocks she’s picked up on her travels.

☀ As the tallest in the group, Vitto jokingly refers to herself as the “designated human lamppost,” always reaching for things on high shelves and playfully resting her arm on one of the girls' heads.

☀ She has a tendency to mix up sayings, particularly in English. She’ll earnestly say something like “It’s water under the fridge,” or “Don’t count your eggs before they swim,” leaving her friends in stitches and Vitto herself slightly confused before cracking up, too.

☀ Her Brazilian accent gets stronger the more excited she is, so they know when she’s really thrilled or passionate about something by the way her words tumble out in Portuguese with barely a pause for air.

☀ With Andrew, she’s found her match. She took her time opening up to him—not because of hesitation, but because she values genuine connection. Now, seeing them together is like witnessing pure harmony; there’s an unspoken tenderness between them, a warmth that spills over to anyone around them. In their home, love is abundant, grounding, and comforting, creating a sanctuary of joy for all who enter.

fio's moodboard — danna's moodboard

╰┈➤ card symbols divider by cafekitsune -`♡´-

#tjatq moodboard #vitto is my sweet ray of sunshine #this playlist is 100% based on mine lol #all this food talk makes me want some warm pamonha rn

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nemo-of-house-hamartia · 2 years ago

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Welcome back! good to see you back here, I missed your content! for the aesthetic game, can you please do one for Dottie and one for Mathias? love them!

Hi there Nonnie! Thank you for your kind words, it's good to be back indeed! :D Allow me to present the Aesthetic for Dorothea and Mathias (also, keep an eye on my dash, because I have other requests for these two, so I have more aesthetic things coming for them :D)

🌹DOROTHEA MARIANNE STARRICK ✨

MOODBOARD:

PLAYLIST:

"Morning Star" - Blackmore's Night

"Winter's Bloom" - Adrian Von Ziegler

"Ghost of a Rose" - Blackmore's Night

STEAL HER LOOK:

QUOTES :

“Those freckles make you seem like a galaxy of stars, just waiting to be explored and loved.” - Nikita Gill

“All men have stars, but they are not the same things for different people. For some, who are travelers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems... But all these stars are silent. You-You alone will have stars as no one else has them.” - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Le Petit Prince

“...her who whose beauty is not like earthly beauty, dangerous to look upon, but like the morning star which is its emblem, bright and musical.”- James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

“In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die: Ever drifting down the stream- Lingering in the golden gleam- Life, what is it but a dream?” ― Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass

HER AESTHETIC:

Starlit sky; Northern Lights setting the sky blazing; stargazing alone on a secluded beach with the waves as gentle company; frost-covered roses in a hidden garden; walking down a path in the forest at night holding a silver lantern as a sole guide with the snow gently falling silently all around; abandoned manors hidden away in the depths of an ancient forest; ghosts still dancing together in ballrooms accompanied only by the music of their memories; sitting by the fireplace on an ancient rocking chair and reading an ancient tome under a thick pelt; sipping on warm rose tea while looking at the snow falling outside; snuggling under the comfort of heavy blankets in a canopy bed;

🌙MATHIAS SÉBASTIEN DE BEAUMONT🎨

MOODBOARD:

PLAYLIST:

"Hijo De La Luna" - Mecano

"Outdoor" - Roberto Cacciapaglia

"Adagio" - Il Divo

STEAL HIS LOOK:

QUOTES:

“Because when he sings...even the birds stop to listen.”- Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games

“Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent”- Victor Hugo

“Now I want to live like everybody else. I want to have a wife like everybody else and to take her out on Sundays. I have invented a mask that makes me look like anybody. People will not even turn round in the streets. You will be the happiest of women. And we will sing, all by ourselves, till we swoon away with delight. You are crying! You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! All I wanted was to be loved for myself. If you loved me I should be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do anything with me that you pleased.” - Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera

“He stared dully at the desolate, cold road and the pale, dead night. Nothing was colder or more dead than his heart. He had loved an angel and now he despised a woman.”- Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera

HIS AESTHETIC:

A small nook to sit and reflect quietly; new quills and parchments; the perfume of freshly brewed coffee, the way the air smell when Autumn is about to arrive, the feeling when the fingers start tickling the ivories and a melody is born, completely encompassing one's soul; the sound of rain against the glass of the windows; riding a horse with the wind caressing one's hair, free from all fears and worries; songs sung together with friends; the perfume of orange flowers and neroli still lingering on the pillow; the sight of the full moon after a night storm; waves crashing against the sand in the distance;

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#Aesthetic Game #Assassin's Creed #OCs #Mathias De Beaumont #Dorothea Starrick #Moodboards #this was SO MUCH FUN #also sorry for the delay I was immensely busy in the past couple of days due to finally moving into our rightful apartment #now I am catching up with the asks #I will have them out in the next few days :)

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invinciblerodent · 11 months ago

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1) Will your OC get married and with who? 2) Will they have any children? What are their names?

OC Ask Game!

I think I’m gonna go on for a long (long, long, LONG) time about Iona, and mention the others kind of as a footnote, because I think Iona’s answers to these are just… the ones that are most interesting to me, lol

(fair warning looking back, this got PROFOUNDLY away from me- the TL; DR of it is that for Iona marriage is "yes, eventually" and kids are "no, never", for Arvid marriage is a "yes, of course, sure" and kids are "well if you want it", and for Petyr both are "hah! no. nope. no.")

So, this whole “what now” issue in Iona’s case, it’s… all a bit muddled.

As a little background to it, in 3e, it’s said that courtships between elves often take a very long time, sometimes decades, before a commitment is reached- which is understandable, especially considering that elves are also said to seldom fall out of love with one another, and don’t typically remarry after the death of one spouse. A commitment that’s meant to span a lifetime of centuries (whether the life of one has a natural endpoint or not is irrelevant), it makes sense that they’d take it seriously, and not jump into soul-bonds willy-nilly. (An albatross is definitely going onto her moodboard now, lol.)

I think both Iona and Astarion would still be kind of... feeling themselves out, by the end of the game, and neither of them would be drawn to the thought of “blissful mutual domesticity” just yet.

I mean, on top of being a quite young elf, she’s spent a good 80% of her life among humans: her experience with life is colored by the perceptions of a people who are constantly trying to outrun the rushing of a clock that might as well be standing still for her. So exploring what time even means to her, that’d be a very exciting prospect. While Astarion, he was even younger than she is now when he had the “elven” part of his identity taken away from him, only to be made into someone that’s seen as a tool first, monster second, and person a distant third. He’s eager to re-learn personhood and live again, so they’re both sort of… (re-?)discovering themselves and their “feyness” together, and in each other.

My little idea is that after the Brain’s defeat, they’re going to spend one or two decades on solo adventuring: primarily looking for a way to allow him to walk in the sun again, but that… proves itself to be something of a wild goose chase. The travel itself is annoyingly cumbersome (either they have to shelter during the day and cover no ground, or he has to be polymorphed and be both unable to communicate and practically defenseless [can’t risk fighting, if his form is dismissed he’s dead]). But also, there are just… too many disappointments. Too many dead ends. Too many times they’ve gotten too close only to find out that they were either late, or misled, or just plain wrong about something.

I think he’d grow frustrated with it first, and grow reckless: strain against his limits, start pushing his luck with the Sun, start making dangerous mistakes, and it’d be her who’d start gently encouraging (cajoling, bargaining, eventually pleading with-) him that maybe they should return to the Gate. To regroup, try to find other avenues, head off in a different direction. And while he'd know she's right, agreeing… it'd still feel like he’s admitting defeat.

Of course, he’d try to put on an unbothered face, but she would still obviously be able to tell that he’s upset: primarily with himself, but also a little bit with… everything. Of feeling both free and trapped, both bursting with the desire to DO something, but also being… powerless.

Which (stay with me, we're a third of the way!) is the context in which the thought of kids and “marital bliss” would rear its ugly head.

Because I headcanon that vampire spawn are naturally sterile. (I know full vampires can sire mortal offspring, but since spawn can’t create new vampires via bite and the bite is almost always a penetration-allegory, I like to think that translates to them being just… unable to reproduce, period.) And elves in general already have far lower fertility rates, so even if he wasn’t sterile because of the vampirism but just maybe less fertile than usual, the chances of conception between the two of them would still be infinitesimally small.

And I mean, the topic really wouldn’t come up naturally, so I think Astarion would likely think that she’d eventually want children. I mean, he knows very well that she had been previously married to a human- humans usually want kids, so it’d be a natural assumption that she’d be on the same page as her ex-husband, and the fact that she doesn’t have kids now wouldn't be for a lack of wanting. (It is. It is for a lack of wanting. But both of them being ~excellent~ [pejorative] at communicating, he definitely wouldn’t ask- if only for fear of the answer he thinks he'd get.)

So it'd kind of… eat at him, for a while, the thought that at some point, she might grow to resent him. There'd be a small, niggling part of his mind that'd worry that at some point, the limitations would all prove too much, and she’d grow frustrated, tired of always having to work with and around his… shall we say, conditions. Beyond his partial reliance on her pain and literal body for sustenance, the physical differences between them, and the messiness of healing (the times he startles awake screaming, the times he can’t bear even the thought of being touched, the times he’s frustrated with himself and takes it out on her), this is just one more thing.

He can’t take her out for a nice day in the city. He can’t warm her body at night, wine and dine her (or just share a meal like a regular person), or love her as brazenly as he did starting out, out on the street for all to see because… well, he can’t go out into the streets. Can’t even travel with her during the day, not without taking the shape of a stupid animal that can’t communicate with her, joke with her, or even delight her with the looks he had thought for so long were the only thing he was good for.

Though secure in her love of him, he’s not stupid, or an idealist who’d think that love alone is enough for a happily ever after. While enjoying the time while it lasts, naturally there’d be sort of a running tally in his head of all the ways their lives chafe against one another.

Watching her face grow paler and paler as she’s deprived of the sun and has her blood drained, he’d never quite stop wondering at what point is the scale going to tip, at what point she’d finally realize that she had bet on the wrong undead horse by choosing to love the vampire who asks her to sacrifice so much, and not only doesn’t want to, but isn’t even able to give her what (he thinks) she wants.

Which, she doesn’t want it, of course. She has not even one maternal bone in her body.

Iona is well aware that she would make a terrible mother, and she absolutely does not want to be one. So it wouldn’t even occur to her that this would be something on his mind on top of all else. When he’d be having his little personal crisis about this, she’d be busy trying to make the impossible happen and circumventing the need to find a way to give him back the Sun by inventing one herself. That’d be why she'd lock herself into her study alone for longer and longer periods of time, why she sometimes wouldn’t come out for days, why she'd sometimes steer the conversation away from certain things- she wouldn’t want to give him false hope in a project that’d quickly prove so far beyond her abilities.

But, she'd still obviously recognize his occasional bouts of melancholy- I mean, it’s very unusual for someone to look at another so fondly and happily one moment, and then get quiet and forlorn the next. That distance she'd see behind his eyes sometimes when she'd tell him she loves him, that’d be rather worrying to anyone.

It’ll take a while for this particular cat to work its way out of the bag, but it would happen eventually, of course.

In reality, none of that would bother her.

She delights in being the sole person deciding what, when, and how she wants to eat. She loves the coolness of his touch- it soothes the heat of the draconic blood running through her veins better than any balm. Sure, going to markets and doing all that domestic pish can be fun, but... well, she’s always been an indoorsy person. Being bitten is no burden (she wouldn’t offer if it was), and there being no risk of a pregnancy, even after the tadpole’s death? At the risk of sounding crass, that’s an incredible perk, with no downsides. Feeling him find his pleasure while buried deep inside her, with no pang of fear or worry? It’s absurd how perfect that is, how happy she is with the fact that with the man she loves, that fear of being impregnated against her will can be put completely to rest.

And the rest, the messiness, the less “pretty” parts of it all, the evenings spent soothing his pain that’s either real or real only to him, that’s… just what happens if you love someone. Sure, she worries of course, but even when it’s inconvenient, when it’s ugly, when the old scars feel like they’re on fire and she can’t even being to think of a way to help… she still loves him just the same.

So no, no children necessary. It’s not in the cards for them, and even if it was, I don’t think either of them would really want it, or be good at it.

... She’d probably like to overwrite the memories of her first marriage (and speak the word “husband” without rancor) though, but only eventually.

And I like to think that that’ll have to happen with an item I’m tentatively calling “Taran Tal’hondnor” (The Gift of True Love), and it’s an enchanted ring that she will finally be able to create after many years of study, and even more miserably failed attempts at creating an enchantment that’ll let a vampire walk in the sun.

I like to imagine her proposing to him, on her own terms this time, with one such gift.

Because she loves him to the point of invention.

Quickly on the others, Arvid… might like fatherhood, if he were so inclined. He’s a very caring, kind, nurturing person, and if he were to be in that position, he would probably be a very good dad. He’s generally in a nurturing role already, and Gale being in a teaching role, they could prove to be excellent parents, if that were what they wanted.

But they… probably wouldn’t want that. Gale being the age that he is (“canon” says 35, I see ~38-40, minor difference) and a human, yet saying that he’s “not ready”, I personally interpret that as a rather telling thing. His past of having spent such a long time in a "monogamous" (I'm fairly sure that part's one-sided, no time to go into that now) relationship with a goddess who had no intention of having kids with him, and his present willingness to be with an illithid who can’t, that to me is implying that it’s not something that’d be that important to him. Like I personally see that as him not actively preferring to have kids if it’s up to him (he likes peace, and quiet, and downtime, and a nice glass of wine with a quietly romantic evening meal- very much the quintessential childless millennial, 100% part of the appeal to me lol), but he’d be happily willing to do it if his partner wanted it themselves.

But in my world, his husband (I like how I skated by the first part of the question, I mean they already ARE married lol)… doesn’t really have such strong feelings about it either. So, since two "maybes" don’t make a "yes" (and for this kind of thing, you need two enthusiastic "yes"-es for it to no longer be a no), it’s a "no".

But I think their marriage is going to be very happy and fulfilling to both of them nevertheless. <3

And since I don't yet have any kissy-shots of them (☹️), have an "are you seeing this shit" silent exchange for these two <3

Honestly? I would sooner give a baby to a pack of feral wolves and hope for the best than have Petyr become a father. He'd absolutely be the kind of dad whose kids become DnD characters. He's someone's tragically emotionally distant boomer dad just waiting to happen. (I mean, come on. My guy felt inadequate once, and coped with it by fucking off to the woods for 20 years? Yeah, sure, father of the year.)

And Shadowheart, she basically didn't have parents growing up, she has a TON of cult indoctrination to process and unlearn as an adult, and -let's be real- likely has no fucking clue how motherhood would even really work. Like the woman whom she used to call "mother" pretty much straight-up tortured her. C'mon now.

I like to think that, though they are the only two in my lineup who are physically able to have kids by accident, they (with their 8 and 10 INT scores respectively) would still be smart enough to smell that particular disaster before they'd barrel into it head first, and either actively decide not to have kids, or put it off so far into the future as for it to be meaningless. Maybe the discussion can be tabled in a few decades' time, but since by then their home will be surrounded by, god, so many animals to take care of (including a barely not feral, adult owlbear) (and their mutual boyfriend who sometimes shows up for like a month to fuck nasty on every available surface of the house and surrounding wilds), I doubt it'll result in a resounding "yes".

In the same vein of things, if a big, beautiful, traditional wedding is something that she wants (which I... kinda doubt would be super important to her), she definitely bet on the wrong horse, because this guy is not one for pomp and circumstance.

I like to imagine that after their departure from the Gate (and their bidding of not exactly "farewell", but "see you later" to Halsin), he'll just... take her "home" to his little shack in his corner of the forest, and then, sitting under the canopy of his favorite woods, enjoying the balmy evening breeze and the undisturbed night sky with his favorite person, he'll look up at the moon, take her hand, and silently, in his head, give his thanks to the Moonmaiden for this peace.

And... that'll be it. From that point forward, it'll be easy to fall into a kind of sweet, quiet domesticity that is essentially a marriage in all but name.

I definitely like- and relate to the idea of them foregoing the "2.5 kids, white picket fence" idea of a happily ever after not out of a conscious rejection, but rather just by... being themselves. Together.

#hi this is 2.6k words #i sincerely apologize for i hopelessly run at the mouth #oc: iona raedir #oc: arvid trygg #oc: petyr wildbrook #squirrel plays bg3

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 2 years ago

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Bride of Christ, Bride of Man

Solomon Kane x reader (moodboard)

Probably the only Solomon Kane x reader on Tumblr. Hope you like it!

*****

Imagine being a nun, travelling from your old convent to join a bigger one in London; you meet Kane on the road, and he insists at accompanying you, since it would be dangerous for a woman to travel alone without an escort. You accept, happy to have company.

The stern, severe puritan soldier turns out to be the perfect travel companion; he is respectful and polite, and once he has gotten used to your presence, after travelling by himself for so long, he shows a side of him few have seen: kind, relaxed, even humorous.

He is a seasoned warrior and traveller, while you have lived a pretty sheltered life and until a month ago you had never been more than a few miles away from your convent, but he treats you as an equal, without a trace of condescension: he is attentive to your needs since you are not as used to a wandering life as he is, but if you assure him you are not too tired to walk some more before making camp or that he doesn’t need to give you his cape because you are not cold, he doesn’t insist and trusts your judgement.

You may be as different as two people can be, but day after day, as you travel along lonely roads and you are forced to spend all your time together, a quiet friendship develops between you. You trust Kane with keeping you both safe, since unlike you he is armed and knows the territory you are travelling through, while you take care of the food, kindling the fire and using your meager provisions to prepare as good a meal as you can.

You are attracted to him, at first because you have never met anyone like him. Ever since you were a girl, you have lived surrounded by other nuns, members of the clergy, pilgrims and the scholars who came to study the books in the convent’s library. Kane is completely different, so much that you could almost think he belongs to a different race.

He is, by his own admission, a violent man. He was responsible for his brother’s death when he was just a boy, although that had been an accident, and during his life as a warrior and privateer he killed more people than he could count, and committed acts of unspeakable violence. He has renounced his past, vowing to dedicate the rest of his life to fight the forces of Darkness, but he has not forgotten all the pain that he inflicted and the sins that weight on his soul.

He tells you this freely, melanchonic but discovering he feels better after confessing his wrongdoings, even though you cannot grant him absolution. You would lie if you said hearing everything he lived through, everything he did, doesn’t upset you, and at first being so close to a killer responsible for so many deaths makes you shiver, but you quickly realize Kane does not deserve your loathing. In the end, who are you to judge? You have lived a comfortable, peaceful life with your family and then at the convent, but who knows what you would have done if you had found yourself in his place, alone and forced to fend for himself when he was barely a boy? After so many years walking under the Devil’s cape, it must have taken him an exceptional force of will to renounce his ways and find redempion; he realized what he was doing was wrong and decided to make amends. Yes, all of God’s creatures are imperfect and make mistakes, but few, like Kane, decide to right their own wrongs, whatever it takes; his courage and abnegation really deserve respect.

On your part, you also tell him about your life, confessing you haven’t taken the veil by choice, but you were forced by your father, who had you join the convent because he had no intention to grant you a dowry. You know being a Bride of Christ is an honourable occupation, and you have learnt to be content with a life of prayer, work and looking after the less fortunate, but you have always wanted more... a different life, had yours not been chosen for you.

“What would you have liked to do?” he asks one evening, as you are eating dinner in front of the fire; the flames’ shadows dance on Kane’s face, his usually severe expression that has relaxed as he enjoys the simple meal. Forgotten is the deference he felt he had to show towards a nun, in time the two of you have gotten closer, he has learned to enjoy your company and now treats you with the informal courtesy that usually exists between old friends.

“It may sound silly to say, but my dream was to travel the world, maybe joining a merchants’ expedition or offering my services as a maid on a ship; I wanted to meet new people, visit new places, live exciting adventures” you confess, half-embarassed by those that you now recognize as the naive dreams of a child “But my life has turned out very differently, as you can see”.

“Do not regret it; the life of an adventurer is way less pleasant and safe than you can imagine." he gently urges you; he smiles at you, as if to prove he doesn’t mean to scold you, and looking at that smile, for a moment you feel your heart tremble.

“Believe me, I know; I am not completely naive, I know about war, violence and hunger, even though I never experienced them myself” you assure him as you eat; the soup you have prepared is delicious, you think feeling proud of yourself, and you are happy you can do something to repay the protection offered by your travelling companion “It is just... I sometimes feel like I am suffocating, or a prisoner languishing in too small a cell. Before I left to join my new convent, I had never been more than five miles away from my village; and since I took the veil, I have lived the most sheltered life, surrounded by so few people and with each day similar to the thousand that came before. I know this is all part of a design the children of God cannot comprehend, but sometimes I wonder if this is really what He has decided for me. If my father hadn’t forced me to join the convent, I would have lived a very different life... and I would have probably been happier.”

You would have expected a devout man like Kane to scold you for those words, but he doesn’t; he simply looks at you, a kind and understanding smile on his face. “Maybe you are right, and this is all part of His design for you” he suggests in the end “And in time you will understand why.”

“Yes. Maybe.”

For a while you do not talk, silently enjoying the warmth of the fire, and the tranquil pleasure of being next to each other. You look at the sky above, full of stars, and find yourself praying God that you may never reach the convent, as long as Kane is with you.

Being completely inexperienced in the matters of the heart, it takes you a while to realize your feelings for him have grown beyond gratitude and trust, and even an affectionate friendship. One night you find yourself unable to sleep, despite the long day of walking, and at the faint light of the glowing embers, you look at Kane; he is sleeping beside you wrapped in an old blanket, his expression peaceful as if he is having a pleasant dream. He is a man who has seen the worst evil on Earth, a man who has faced Satan’s emissary and has emerged victorious, a man who has fought a thousand battle without fear or regret, but still had the kindness to offer his protection to an helpless woman who could only slow him down and had no way to repay him. He is a man who has seen Hell, and became better for it.

He is the man you have fallen in love with.

You see no reason to hide your feelings, since Kane’s map shows that you will reach the convent in a few days, and then you will have to part. It is a beautiful, sunny day, and your path has lead you to the clear and fresh waters of a stream, where you decide to fill your bottles and wash your clothes - at least, those you can take off in each other’s presence. It is there, as Kane’s cape and your mantle and veil dry on the grass and you and your companion enjoy the warmth of the sun on your face, that you overcome the sudden shyness that has filled you, take his hand and

“In these past weeks, I have... grown fond of you” you commence, finding that those words do not even begin to encompass the feelings that fill your heart, the affection and the tenderness and the desire -yes, the desire; it is umbecoming for a nun to experience such a sentiment, but you cannot help it and don’t want to either- that having him close arouse in you “Fonder that I have ever been of anyone, and even though it is my first time I know it is not just a passing fancy. I... I am in love with you, and wish to never be parted. I do not ask you to feel the same, at least for now, but will you let me travel with you for a little while, until you decide if you see a future for the two of us?”

Kane’s reaction is slow in coming, because he has been left speechless by your words; you have time to panic, and to regret you had the courage to speak, when a tiny, amost shy smile appears on his lips. Kane takes your hand in both of his, and he kisses it reverently before confessing that his feelings match yours. He has felt his heart beating for you ever since the day you met, and his affection has grown until he is now unable to deny it.

“I love you too; I love you with all my heart, my soul and my body” he vows, solemn and honest and passionate as he always is, and then his expression saddens, a sight that breaks your heart “Mine is a dangerous life; I have sworn to dedicate the rest of my life to fight evil on Earth, and I will not desist, not even for you, and I would never ask you to follow me into danger. Furthermore, you are a Bride of Christ, you have sworn to remain celibate and chaste. You cannot break those oaths, and I will not let you do it for my sake.”

He is right - at least about the second problem you have to face. The religious life has been chosen for you, it wouldn’t be incorrect to say you were forced to take the veil, but you are a devout Christian and believe in the promises you have made to God, in front of the whole convent and in your own heart. While it would be all too easy to break them, since you are alone and unsupervised, the two of you would know, and He would know; moreover, you know Kane is an honourable man, and a pious one, and while knowing that he shares your feelings makes you the happiest woman in Christianity, you would never ask him to forsake what he believes in.

No matter how... pleasant it would be.

“I could leave the clergy” you suggest “In that way, I would be free from my previous committments, and I would be able to make new ones.”

“You would do that? For me?”

“Solomon...” how beautiful it is to say his name! And judging from his smile, he likes it too “I would go to the end of the Earth for you. And I will, even if you try to forbid me.”

In the end, you decide that when you reach the convent you are supposed to move to, you will talk to the Abbess, who has the authority to free you from your duties towards the Church. Until them, no matter how hard it will be, you will live as brother and sister, without succumbing to temptation.

It is hard - harder than anything you have ever done, especially by night, when sleeping a few feet apart is no longer a natural choice, dictated by decorum, but rather an obligatory one, to stop yourself from giving in to your desires.

Your knowledge of what it means to lie with a man is strictly theoretical, as well as severely lacking, since you have been at the convent since you were barely a girl and that was not a topic the good nuns were inclined to discuss. You confess it to Solomon, who sweetly, reverently kisses your hand, and “You have no need to be embarassed” he assures you “We will explore our pleasure together once you are free from your oath; the choice is yours, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want, and nothing will give me more joy than simply know that your heart is mine.”

You finally reach your destination in a warm spring morning; the solemn structure of the convent looms in front of you under a clear sky. Happy as you are and excited to be free to pursue your feelings for Solomon, it is still with an heavy heart that you present yourself to the Abbess who, ready to welcome you in her little flock, receives very different, and unexpected, news.

She lived in the convent where you grew up until she moved to establish a new one, and because of this she knows you well and immediately realizes you are serious, that even though your decision has been taken relatively quickly you are sure of it, and that your feelings for Solomon are more than a fleeting desire. Maybe God is testing you, or maybe has wanted you to experience a life of celibacy to preserve you for the husband He has chosen for you; anyway, she doesn’t want to stand in the way of your destiny, and gives you her blessing.

You formally leave the clergy two days later, at the end of a brief ceremony; you should maybe feel guilty, or lost, finding yourself out of the world that has been everything you have known since you were a little girl, an environment that has protected you and guided your life for so many years. It is not so - not completely, at least; even though you hadn’t chosen freely to take the veil, you will miss the peaceful, contemplative life of a nun, but in your heart you know you have made the right choice: Solomon is the man God has chosen for you, and no matter how long your life together will last, and how dangerous it will be, you are determined to be by his side.

He has not taken part in the ceremony, but is waiting for you in the convent’s garden, next to a centuries-old oak. When he sees you walking towards him, wearing a simple dress the nuns gave you instead of the habit, your bare head no longer covered by the veil, he smiles full of joy and tenderness. “You look so beautiful...”

“I look free” you correct him taking his hands in yours “And I am. I am free to pursue my desires, and my desire is you, Solomon Kane. I love you with all my heart, and only want to be with you until my last breath.”

What you don’t know is that, while you prayed in the convent’s chapel, the Abbess has had a long and very serious conversation with Solomon, to make sure he is worthy of your devotion. “That woman loves you with all her heart, master Kane; I hope you will always protect and respect her, since she is giving up everything she knows to be with you. I am not saying she would be unable to take care of herself, but she is now alone in the world, and it is your duty to make sure she doesn’t regret her decision.”

"Believe me, mother, I have every intention to take care of her” Solomon assures her “Whatever I can do to make her happy, and safe, I will do. God has put her on my way, and I intend to cherish her until my last day."

Making good on his promise, Solomon kisses your hands and asks for your hand in marriage. “Since we plan on living together from now on, it wouldn’t be proper to do it without being married” he observes “And I do want you to be my wife; I am yours, body and soul, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

So intense is the emotion that you are feeling that for a whole minute you cannot utter a word. But it is not difficult for Solomon to understand you accept his proposal, given your smile full of emotion, and the tears of joy that fill your eyes.

“Yes... yes, of course I will!” you exclaim in the end, and he is quick to pick you up and spin you around, laughing “Oh, Solomon, I am so happy!”

It is then that you share your first kiss, under the branches of the oak, and it is exactly as you had hoped: sweet and passionate, the arm of your beloved that holds you by the waist and his hand caressing your cheek, a promise exchanged and accepted without the need for words or witnesses.

You marry the next Sunday, in front of the priest who comes to say Mass at the convent every week, a short and simple ceremony during which you both cannot stop smiling. Solomon is even more handsome than usual, the joy on his usually stern face that makes him look a decade younger, and you are both alone, without family or friends witnessing your union, but you don’t mind, because you know that as long as you have each other, you will want for nothing, and that it was God that made you meet and is now blessing your union.

#Solomon Kane #Solomon Kane 2009 #Solomon Kane x reader #James Purefoy #Bellona's stuff

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iamdelighted · 14 days ago

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There are a lot of things someone can do to feel empowered in these times, but as someone with chronic illness and very low energy—who also feels on the verge of being pulled under right now—I wanted to share some things that I’ve been doing that feel like small acts of resistance. Things that I can do mostly sitting down, and are actually often fun. Maybe someone else can get some use out of this too.

—Enjoy queer media, BIPOC media, and any other media you like that would make white evangelicals picket in front of your house. It feels good to keep reading and watching the kinds of things the new regime is trying to eradicate. If you can afford it, it’s also really nice to buy physical copies of things when you can. It feels good to own my fave queer media and know that someone can’t take it from me without physically coming into my house.

—Create things that would make them call you a pervert. Write explicit fics and novels. Make art about sex. Draw vaginas in your spare time. Whatever is calling to you. You don’t have to share it anywhere if you don’t want to, just enjoy making things and existing as a “pervert” in a society that wants to wipe you out.

—Refuse to spend your money on the trash items being marketed to you. This is not a judgment for the times when you’ve got no choice. Sometimes I have to buy the $5 plastic item at Walmart. Do what you have to do to survive. But in a world that is making worse and worse items and trying to get you to consume at a ridiculous rate, doing what you can to avoid it feels like an act of resistance. So when possible, hold out for the second-hand item that’s made of actual wood. See what’s around your house that you can use instead. Shop from small businesses when you can. If you’ve got any disposable income, have fun seeing how many ways you can subvert the system by choosing differently than they want you to, or by not buying anything but necessities for awhile.

—Make stuff. Whatever suits your fancy. Draw, paint, embroider, refashion your clothing, make a mobile out of trash, repaint a toy car, write a poem, make a moodboard for your favorite characters. Do something within your energy means that gets you out of your mind and out of the doomscroll for awhile. Creating stuff has all kinds of good benefits, but now I also like to think of it as one small choice I can make to not give my attention to things that want me to despair.

—Lean into the relationships in your life that feel good. Now is not the time to suffer fools. It feels SO GOOD to lean out of the relationships and spaces that want you to conform to them, and into the relationships and spaces that fill your soul up and celebrate you as you are. Instead of draining you, they will fill you with energy and resolve. Yes, there are people and places that we have to deal with, but we can choose not to give them any more time and attention than they absolutely require.

—Remember that your mind is your own. We live in a time when privacy is hard to come by, but you know what? Nobody has figured out how to read our minds yet. I take tremendous comfort in knowing that the thoughts and worlds in my mind cannot be taken from me. This holds me together.

#resistance #chronic illness #mental health #I don’t know if anyone else will find this helpful #but I wanted to share just in case #I’m too sick to do a bunch of active things #so finding ways to feel like I’m resisting in some form has helped

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redwinewhiteroses · 4 months ago

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Hey

Thankyou so much for giving me a chance to participate in your new game. So for the exchange I would go non tarot exchange, as I don't do tarot. Here is the moodboard for you Alexa based on your mentioned personality. I channeled intuitively with a clear, hope it resonates.

Also I would like to add a note, when I channeled your fs, I don't the first thing that came to me was that he was someone who is fun at the same time someone who has filled with love. To him, you are the most important person in his life. He is very possessive about you and he always wants to keep you happy. If you are sick, he will always be there by your side. For him, you are his everything. With him, you will have a fun filled journey as he is someone who is chill. He is flow with life person. He is stable enough, he wouldn't mind you be at home. He is simple yet rich in heart. He loves hanging out with people, he is people person . He will take you on dates and picnics. Also, i got this really hard, that he is very romantic. Overall, I loved the energy of you two. Anyways, I wish you the best, dear. I really hope it resonates because I am still learning, so please give me feedback so I can improve.

Now my side, my name is cheril. My sun is in gemini and my venus is also in gemini and in sideral my sun is in taurus and my venus in Taurus. I prefer male.The personality trait that I admire in my fs is someone who is kindhearted, empathetic, loyal, committed. I want someone who put their ego and pride aside, act based on feelings and povs. I would love they have balance in all the factors of life. I also love my partner to be open and vice versa.

Thankyou so much for the opportunity. I hope you like your reading. Have a good day ahead.🧡

Thank you so much for the moodboard Cheril🤩💗 I love the aesthetics and the vibes.

I love the intuitive messages you provided me about my fs. He seems like a really nice guy. And I think your intuition is incredible.

Also from your vibes, you sound more like a Sun and Venus in taurus person💗 and not a gemini 😭 Sidereal is more accurate in my honest opinion. I have my Sun and Venus in taurus too🥰

So your fs is very interesting. He is someone who has had an awakening, a significant transformation has led them to their true north. They have found some purpose. They could have a significant mission in this life or they are simply very dedicated to living a purposeful life. They hold wisdom but at the same time they have a young heart. They are very good at walking away from things that no longer serve them. I think your fs constantly looks for fulfillment through finding purpose in life. They are always on the lookout to find a calling, something that gives them purpose. He is someone who has done soul searching and decided that they wanna do this thing in their life. Your fs gives of sagittarian vibes. They are inspired by things they are passionate about and they are ready to tread the path towards fulfillment. I feel like he has a specific life goal, maybe a specific career or mission that they are passionate about and they've only recently found that. So they've walked away from situations that held them back and being more true and authentic to themselves. I pulled another card and I think he has found whatever fulfills his soul. He has achieved significant emotional stability. He has a lot of abundance and has reached full emotional fulfillment. They either can be rich and well recognized or they are deeply content with themselves, who they are as a person. Very satisfied about life. I think he is also a family man. He can be very supportive of his loved ones.

Your relationship dynamic is intense and passionate😭 Almost wild and really fun. I think you'll travel a lot together. You could even move countries. There's a lot of moving places energy so travel can be a major theme in your married life. Also you have plans for the future and constantly work towards making the relationship even better. You could go on holidays often too. You will always be on the lookout for new opportunities and grab them as soon as they are presented to you. There can be significant expansion and growth in this relationship. Jupiter and sagittarius energy is pretty strong here. You will grow together as a couple. You will also have burning passion brewing and boldly pursue each other in the relationship. Flirty conversations and tempting each other is also possible.

Your feel like your fs is highly skilled and charismatic. In your eyes he's the most gorgeous, hottest and confident man alive. You feel inspired by him. You know you can create a good life with him, you know he's very capable of fulfilling your desires and needs.

Your fs can struggle with expressing their feelings sometimes. He may have fears and insecurities and he can feel weighed down because of them. He can keep to himself. Or he can feel burdened because you hide certain things from him or at least he feels so. I don't know exactly what it is, but it's not a big issue because your relationship dynamic is already so healthy and good.

Bale and Wilson can be significant names. Also orange color. I thought of powdery love, I don't know if that's even a real word😭😂 Feel free to dismiss these msgs if they don't resonate with you.

#fs moodboard #tarot answer #belleamesblog

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liliesdiary · 1 year ago

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「 ♡ THE WALKING DEAD ♡ 」

「 ♡ TWD Moodboard M.List 」

「 ♡ Recent Work | Recent Work | Recent Work 」

♡ Rick Grimes

Rick Grimes Pops Your Cherry

♡ The older man pops your cherry in your daddy's barn..

Fuck Your Boyfriend, You're Mine.

♡ Your boyfriend didn't deserve you and Rick knew that as he watched you everyday. He stalked you, he loved watching you on patrol throughout Alexandria, you never questioned him since he was the constable of this community but one day he pays you a visit and makes you his.

Psycho Rick Grimes Bonnie & Clyde AU

♡ "We'll go down together, like Bonnie & Clyde."

♡ Daryl Dixon

Fairy On Acid series ↓

I Bet She Bangs Like A Fairy On Acid

♡ “In the forest there's a fairy, she waits for me. She tells me if I hurry, my dreams will come true. She tells me she wants it, so I started to kiss her lips. Milk and honey drips.”

♡ Sleep Paralysis

♡ The fairy in the forest continues to haunt Daryl. She haunts him in his dreams and continues to lure Daryl in. He was drowning in those eyes, lost in her depths . Her tune slowly consumed him as she hunted her prey.

Daryl x Fem Walker Series ↓

♡ Home

♡ You were a lost soul searching for your home, following the river as the moon guided you. Suddenly you feel an arrow piercing through your skin and a man holding a crossbow.

More for Daryl Dixon ↓

♡ The Rose And The Thorn

♡ The Rose And The Thorn, a tune that pricked you both with nostalgia and loss. He stared at you, falling deeply in love with the way you play.

Waking Up Daryl Dixon

♡ You found a special way to wake up the man who saved your life..

Kisses Sweeter Than Sugar

♡ Part two to waking up Daryl Dixon

Cherries, Bruises & Cigarettes (smut)

♡ Cherries, Bruises & Cigarettes...

Headcannons ↓

♡ Being Daryl Dixon's Sex Doll Headcannons

♡ Shane Walsh

"Not So Tough Now, Huh Darlin?"

♡ The older man hate fucks you in a drunken rage after several arguments with you.

Dad's Perverted Best Friend

♡ Dad's Perverted Best Friend corrupts you

The Farmer's Daughter

♡ The drunken older man sneaks into your house and fucks you

♡ Rick & Shane

Living Sex Doll

♡ “You're such a good doll for us, Sweetheart. We own you.”

♡ Requests

Everything is going to be okay (Yandere Aaron)

♡ You and Aaron have been best friends since the start of the apocalypse but as time passed, the war with Negan broke out. Aaron had lost his lover, Eric. Over time, Aaron found himself becoming increasingly possessive and paranoid about you. He couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone else, especially not you. One day, without warning, he locked you inside his house, forcing you to become a mother to Grace. One day, Aaron didn't come back home, you kept repeating yourself that everything was going to be okay.

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stayxlix · 2 years ago

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helloooooo!!!🩵🩵 moving was pretty difficult, but thankfully, some of my friends helped and etc and now I'm ready to start anew!!

AKWKEHEG i'm just so so so glad that you've actually decided to endulge me with this trope😭 😭 I can't even explain just how excited I am to THOROUGHLY read the next chapter (and ALLLLL the other ones to come) and haha yes I'm pretty much also living for any media that include romance, buuut like I said, angry love confessions and angry passion just really do it for me🤭 and you're so right! Having a happy ending really makes me feel like crying all those times and screaming into my pillow was really worth it😭

I'm really glad you're happy that I said otde is my fav way to get rid of excessive stress, bc it really is!! I honestly want to find every single thing that could make you happy and just give it to you bc you're just so nice and ahaiwiowowjw

AND DID YOU JUST YOU VALUE MY OPINION THAT MUCH?!?!??! I ACTUALLY CANT DI THIS WTF ALEX WJY ARE U SO NICE HELP ME I'm so unbelievably glad that I can talk to you like this and try to make you feel the love for you and your story and blog, even if it's just through asks (for now!! I'm trying to build up my courage to finally text you and not do it like this by being anonymous) and I honestly wish I could give you a real life hug, I just wanna squish you and qjqjwhegejqo1 😭😭💗

I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKE THE MOODBOARD!!!!!!*×*×[×[2[2> And YES I PUT A LOOOT OF THOUGHT INTO IT BUUUT I REALLY REALLY ENJOYED MAKING IT AND I'M JUST SO FREAKING GLAD YOU LIKE IT HELPBMEKAJQ i really tried to put in what i feel when i readd otde, so i'm just really glad that you can see what I meant and it makes me even happier taht you actually like it and even SAY THAT IT'S THE PERFECT VISUAL JOURNEY FOR OTDE AND THAT IT'S THE EXACT VIBE YOU ASSOCIATE WITH OTDE??? OMFG I CANT DO THIS I AM ABOUT CRY

and yes, I will gladly talk to you about every single pic that I've decided to add, and hopefully it'll be very VERYYY soon bc I am pretty close to dming you😭🩵 and I'm in the middle of the red version already, so I'm even MORE excited to share it with you soon!! (Possibly through normal dms🤭🤭) I AGREE!! i would like to announce, that now it is canon that mc wears red Vans bc it reminds of Felix (she probably wouldn't admit it at the beginning but we KNOW) (and, why do I feel like otde Felix is the type to get something related to mc tattooed?? Maybe just a small thing like her fav flower and on his wrist somewhere so that he knows she's always somehow with him😭 or if she gave him a bracelet, he'd literally NEVER take it off like no matter what... and I feel like he'd also be the type that wears EVERYTHING related to her proudly [and probably gets a bit too turned on when he sees that she does the same] okay I may be ranting a bit too much now... i need to stop)

I'm extremely glad that the new chapter is coming along nicely!! I'm soooo anticipating it and I'll definitely have so much motivation to make something that I don't even know with what new creation of mine we'll end up with☠️😭 aaaand i'll so let you in on a little secret, I love LOVE LOVE LIKE WITH MY WHOLE SOUL LOOOONG STORIES like give me 35k words and I'm eating ALL OF IT UP. especially from you?!?!?!? But i wish you so so much good luck with the finishing up/ just writing in general!🩵🩵 don't feel any pressure to finishing it! I'll honestly wait however long is needed without any problems if it's otde🩵

And thank YOU for being so wonderful!🩵 I'm so happy to be writing another ask again💗 your answers also mean the world to me, and I love sharing the excitement and happiness I hold for not only otde, but also you🩵 Hearing that what I make for you/otde is a source of motivation truly makes me so happy that I can't even put it into words, thank you for existing, honestly!🩵

I now find myself thinking about you when I'm writing and wondering if you'll like where the story is going or certain parts etc. etc.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDUNG ME?!??!?!?! I LITERALLY XANT DO THIS IM SO CLOSW TO CFYING LIKE ARE U SERIOUS RIGHT NOW THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME ITS ACTUALLY UNREAL PLEASE

Our interactions also mean so so much to me and YOU make all of the time spent reading, and creating thinks for you/the story so so worth it that I wouldn't even imagine it being unworthy, really, I know I've said this before but finding this story/ you and your blong has genuinely made my lately life better and happier💗🩵 I am also so thankful to have you as a friend and to see what you create with your beautiful writing🩵

And yes!! Honestly, though, who wouldn't have a crush on otde Felix?! I also sometimes need to take a break and make myself that, unfortunately, otde Felix is not real anywhere else than our minds and hearts😭 (ps. I am now extremely excited for next week and am omw to add some songs to the playlist, and work on the red version of the moodboard bc I'm so glad that you are excited to see it😭😭)

This was also VEEERY long so hopefully you've survived through this (and yet I still have so much more to say help me) i'm sending another hug right back to you! Stay safe and take care, have the best rest of your day and good luck with everything!!🩵🩵 i love you just as much!!

hi hi hiiiiiiii🩵🩵🩵 im so sorry i wasn’t able to respond until now, i had the most hectic weekend!! i went on a roller coaster for the first time and i don’t think i’ve ever been so happy and terrified all at once before😂😂 (although i do love a good scary movie lol). but im so glad you had good friends to help you move, i know from experience that it makes all the difference :) starting anew is one of my favorite things about life!! even if it can be scary sometimes, it sounds like you’ve got a wonderful support system there with you<333

are you kidding me?!? i LOVE talking about tropes like the one you sent, it resonated so much with me (as does everything you say lol) angry love confessions? YES. angry passion? YES. and a happy ending to wrap it all up?? SIGN ME UP. (btw i like how you mentioned screaming into your pillow because this has also become a regular occurrence for me while writing this story😂) but the fact that you said you’re excited for the new chapter makes me that much more excited to share it (although i am a bit nervous, but what else is new lol) it also makes me want to take even more care with every single word that i include (much like answering your asks lol) im a bit particular about it and it makes me feel really good to know that you want to read it thoroughly because it makes the time spent writing all worth it🥹🥹 (even if it does end up being 35k words lmao) at least i know you’ll still be willing to read it all🥹because ill let you in on another secret, a little over halfway through i checked and it was at like 12k words????? help🙃 and the middle is still a bit of a mess but im really really stuck on my goal of putting it out some time this weekend, so we’ll see.🤭 ive considered splitting it up, and i honestly still might (but i don’t really like the idea of the first half being it’s own part so i even thought about doing like 5.1 and 5.2????? is that even a thing to split a chapter into two?????) lol idk all i know is im just hoping i have plenty of time this week to figure it out😂 thank you so so much for the good luck, kind words, and your amazing support🩵🩵 i need it more than you realize😂

you saying otde is your favorite way to relieve stress is like its own kind of stress relief for me🥹🥹 seriously!! and you are so unbelievably sweet to say that you want to give me every single thing that makes me happy😭 but 🩵, i promise you your asks already make me happier than you could ever imagine!! i only hope that my responses do the same for you because you are so incredible and important to me💕💕which means that OF COURSE I VALUE YOUR OPINION!! readers are the heart and soul of any story, and feedback like yours is the backbone that keeps me going. it keeps the story alive, you know???? and i would be a fool not to recognize that. you have done more than enough to make me feel the love for my little story and blog, even if it is through asks!! don’t ever discount that or feel pressured to do anything further. of course my dms are always open for you🩵 but take all the time you need love, no pressure :)

LIKE THE MOODBOARD???!?!?!? NO NO I L O V E IT. I CAN TELL HOW MUCH THOUGHT YOU PUT INTO IT AND I AM SO PROUD OF IT THAT I WANT TO SHOW IT OFF TO EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN MY LIFE (and i totally would, if any of them knew that this blog existed lol) BUT THAT IS HOW MUCH IL OVE IT. I LVOE IT WITH MY ENTIRE HEART AND SOUL.😭 (and i think mc would too) because i could literally feel the emotions you portrayed, and i cannot even put into words how that makes me feel. your love for this story is something i will never ever forget. even years down the road. you are so special to me, and the offer to go through and discuss all of the pictures (and the songs on your playlist) stands forever. my door will always be open<3 you don’t even have to knock lol just come on in and we can pick right back up wherever we left off. AND WHEN I TELL YOU I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE RED VERSION I MEAN LIKE SHAKING WITH EXCITEMENT ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT BITING MY NAILS ANXIOUSLY AWAITING THE MOMENT IT DROPS🤭🤭(take your time though of course, because i know these things can’t be rushed🩵)

and if i’m being honest i have been thinking about this whole vans thing ever since you brought it up…like my mind has been spiraling with ideas about how our main couple would be in a world like ours, like if they were real college students or something idk. and we have definitely confirmed that its canon that mc would wear red vans because of felix and IT IS EVEN MOre CANON that felix would have something related to her tattooed?!?(I SQUEALED WHEN I READ THIS NO YOU DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND) “Maybe just a small thing like her fav flower and on his wrist somewhere so that he knows she's always somehow with him” THIS.😭 but wait what if the flower was something SHE drew, like maybe just something small that she casually sketched while they were together and he kept it without her even knowing, or if she drew it on a little note to him?????? i am WEAK.😭😭😭😭

“or if she gave him a bracelet, he'd literally NEVER take it off like no matter what” no this is SO good too because even though he would rather die than admit it, he is so fucking obsessed with that little bracelet. because it was from her. OR MAYBE ITS JUST A LITTLE HAIR TIE THAT SHE TOOK OF AND WRAPPED AROUND HIS WRIST CASUALLY oNE daY AND HE HASNT TAKEN IT OFF SINCE BC IT REMINDS HIM OF HER AND - I CANT.😭 pls. we need to discuss this further. and don’t even get me started on how turned on he would be if he catches her wearing something of HIS. nah you’re insane for this and i’m cutting myself off before i get too invested and start making this into its own separate little fic. (mc and lix in a parallel universe or something lol, maybe a past life even??) idk send help😂

thank YOU for existing 🩵, my adoration for you grows even more every single time i see you pop up in my askbox, if that’s even possible :) i mean every word i put into in my responses and i cannot WAIT to see what new creations we’ll end up with from you💕 (starting with the red moodboard of course) you are wonderful, and you have no idea how much you have touched me with your words and interactions. for all we know, we might be halfway across the world from each other, but whenever i read your asks i always feel so close to you.🥹 they give me life, and its probably a good thing we don’t know each other in person, because I would be absolutely SHOWERING you with love 24/7, i would never leave you alone and you’d probably get sick of me lol.😂😂 you make my life better too🩵🩵thank you so much for saying that you think my writing is beautiful, how am i not supposed to think of you when i write when you say such kind things like this???🥹🥹🥹

“I also sometimes need to take a break and make myself that, unfortunately, otde Felix is not real” the struggle is REAL😭 and omg i saw that you added the eve by exo to the playlist and i HAVE to ask if it was because of the hyunlix dance cover from the fanmeet??? bc i also considered adding that song to mine after i saw their dance (don’t even get me started on that and how RUDE it was lmao)

okay okay, if you have made it to the end of this then i sincerely thank you for taking the time out of your day to read it, i could go on forever (you’d never believe how quiet i am in real life😂) but i just have SO much to say when it comes to you. so have an absolutely amazing start to your week 🩵🩵🩵 i hope its full of all of your favorite things and plenty of moments that make you smile<3333 sending SO much love and the biggest warmest hug back your way🤗 talk soon💕💕

#otde.feedback #alex answers asks♡#🩵

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years ago

Text

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 1 | S.R

My moodboard

Next Chapter

A/N - this includes part of the sneak peak but it’s been heavily edited since and some more content. Chapter title and lyrics are from a song by Neil Young. Happy belated Father’s Day, Dad Spencer!

Chapter Summary - Spencer is struggling to adjust to his life as a single dad after his divorce. Dating was the furthest thing from him mind. That is until he meets the new TA at Georgetown.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut in later chapters.

Content Warnings - mentions of one night stands, unplanned pregnancies, talk of cheating, divorce, heavy drinking.

Word Count - 4.4K

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 - Out on the Weekend

See the lonely boy, out on the weekend,

Trying to make it pay.

Can't relate to joy, he tries to speak and,

Can't begin to say.

Spencer Reid thought that nothing in life could be as challenging as being an FBI Agent.

He’d chosen one of the hardest and scariest professions to dedicate his life to and he loved it, but it wasn’t without its hardships.

Facing down unsubs, having guns drawn on him, and being held hostage on multiple occasions had to be the most arduous thing he would encounter in his life, surely?

Being a child prodigy had its difficulties. Being the youngest kid in high school and college and then grad school wasn’t without its obstacles.

The FBI had been one challenge after another but Spencer loved it. He loved it despite his lack of physical prowess and the times he had to end lives to save the lives of others.

It made him feel like he was contributing. Every time they arrested an unsub and tidied up another dark corner of the world, he felt accomplished.

But it was demanding. It took a lot out of him, chipped away a little more of him each time they couldn’t save someone. He let it bear down on his soul.

But it was how he’d chosen to use his genius. He was aiding people. He was making a difference.

Sometimes it just felt like he wasn’t helping enough. The cases they didn’t close, the ones who got away, stayed with him.

But at least his work with the BAU was the most complicated thing he would ever face.

Or so he thought. But even a genius could be wrong on occasion.

And that was proven a few weeks shy of his thirtieth birthday when he’d had his very first one night stand. At least that’s what it was supposed to be.

It had been Morgan’s idea. Spencer was happy just having a few drinks with his best friend but Morgan had been playing the unwanted wingman from the moment they’d stepped into the bar. Despite Spencer’s protests.

“When was the last time you got some good loving?” He’d prodded Spencer, causing him to blush.

“That’s none of your business.” It had been a long time, too long if truth be told.

If Spencer was honest with himself, he was touch starved. Maybe some good loving as Morgan put it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Maybe he hadn’t protested quite as hard as he once would have had. It was possible he didn’t hate the idea of taking someone home, of having one night where wasn’t alone in his bed.

“What about her? She’s your type, pretty boy.”

He’d glanced over in the direction Morgan was nodding his head and when his eyes landed on the woman Morgan eyeing up, and Spencer was instantly smitten.

Morgan wasn’t wrong. She was his type to a tee.

Spencer hadn’t responded, instead just stared across the bar at her and Morgan knew his pretty boy would need a push in the right direction.

Before Spencer knew what was happening, Morgan was all but dragging him over to the woman and introducing them.

They talked for hours. They had a surprising amount in common and Spencer smiled more that night than he had in a long time.

She was beautiful and fascinating and the night had ended with Spencer taking her home and having more sex than he’d probably ever had in his life.

The next day Morgan tried to goad details out of him but Spencer stayed tight lipped. He wanted to preserve the memory of his night spent with her just for himself.

He might have thanked Morgan for his instance of talking to her. Might have. It wasn’t for the fact that several weeks later she had called him out of the blue and dropped a bomb shell.

“Spencer, I don’t really know how to say this other than to just come out with.” There was a long pause on the phone and then she spoke the sentence that changed his whole life. “I’m pregnant.”

Spencer could still remember to this day the way the air felt like it had been forcibly removed from his lungs from a single sentence.

His vision had blurred and his hand clutching the phone went limp and he’d almost dropped it.

All of him had gone limp. The woman he’d had a one night stand with, a woman he never expected to see again was pregnant.

He’d gotten a complete stranger pregnant.

The walls felt as though they started closing in as he sat in silence and processed her words.

This couldn’t be happening. He’d always wanted to be a dad, but not like this. Not after one night spent with a woman he barely knew.

He was supposed to be married to the love of his life and when the time was right they would plan to have a baby. Spencer planned everything. Spencer did not like surprises. He did not like to be blind sided.

But she made it clear she was going to keep the baby regardless of whether he was a part of their life or not. And Spencer was a good man, his mother raised him so. So Spencer did the admirable thing.

He married her.

Spencer Reid married Maeve Donovan, a woman he hardly knew anything about when she was four months pregnant with his child.

It was a simple affair at City Hall, only the BAU members in attendance. Spencer wore a suit from his closet and Maeve wore a white summer dress.

Fall leaves lined the path outside City Hall and crunched under foot as they left hand in hand in matching wedding bands.

Doctor and Mrs Reid and their future child.

And if Spencer thought working at the BAU was the hardest thing he’d ever done, it was nothing compared working at the BAU and being a father.

At least before after a hard case he could crawl home and hide under his duvet and recuperate. He could shut himself off from the world for a few hours and just feel the weight of whatever case they had worked.

But now his apartment wasn’t solitary. He had a wife and newborn daughter to come home to. There was no peace for him anymore. There was no alone time. Spencer was never alone.

It was funny really that he’d hated being alone all these years but now he couldn’t be, he missed it. The irony wasn’t lost on Spencer.

But Daisy Diana Reid was the absolute light of his life. The first moment he held his daughter in his arms he had cried against her soft fuzzy hair and he knew he would die for her.

Standing in the hospital room, cradling her, he’d whispered against her tiny ear, “I promise I will love you forever.”

He wished the same could have been said about her mother.

He liked Maeve, of course he did. She was beautiful and smart and she was an amazing mother.

If they’d met under different circumstances or if she hadn’t fallen pregnant he was sure things would have been different. Maeve was the kind of woman he could fall in love with. But fate had dictated he never got that chance.

Their forced family had governed that they never found out what could have actually been.

He wanted to be in love with her. He wanted to be in love with the mother of his child. But he knew with startling clarity when Daisy was born, he never would be.

Juggling having a child and working at the BAU was completely exhausting. He never had a moment to just breathe. He was always on. He was either an agent or a dad, never just Spencer anymore.

Honestly, Spencer didn’t know how Hotch and JJ made it look so easy. He kind of hated them for making it seem so effortless.

But the long days and the excruciating cases were worth it in the end to see his daughter's beautiful smile when he came home.

For five years things carried on this way. Spencer got a handle on his work-life balance and he started to feel like he’d finally gotten a grip on things.

But once again, fate intervened.

The air didn’t quite escape his lungs this time like it had the first time Maeve had dropped the bombshell that she was pregnant.

Maeve always talked about having a second child, she thought a little brother or sister for Daisy was just what they needed.

And although he loved Daisy, he really wasn’t sure he could handle another.

But they hadn’t been actively trying. Spencer wasn’t ready for a second child, one was hard enough with his job and he didn’t think they were ready for a second.

And since the shock of getting a woman he barely knew pregnant, Spencer had been vigil with his use of condoms.

Except that one time on Garcia’s birthday a month or so prior when he and Maeve had gotten a sitter for Daisy and really let loose.

They’d both drunk a lot that night and it stood to reason that in their states, contraceptives had been the last thing on either of their minds.

So a little after Daisy’s sixth birthday, Maeve gave birth to her little sister Lily Mae. And once again the first time Spencer held her, he knew he would die for her.

His two girls were his whole world. But having two children and a demanding job became way too much for Spencer. So somewhat reluctantly, he quit the BAU and started teaching.

Leaving the BAU was one of the hardest decisions Spencer had ever made. Sure it was draining but he loved his job with a passion.

But he loved his kids more. He’d missed a lot of Daisy’s life while he was away on cases and he didn’t want to make that mistake a second time around.

But he never imagined he would be here. Teaching was something he’d always thought about doing, but not until much later in life once he retired from the FBI. Not at thirty seven.

However it allowed him to work more regular hours and spend precious time with his beautiful daughters. It was worth it to be able to read them bedtime stories and do the school run.

But he missed the BAU with every beat of his heart. And he knew he always would.

They moved to a bigger house in the suburbs to accommodate their growing family and Spencer thought he was at least something akin to happy.

He grew to love Maeve, in a way, or maybe he just grew comfortable with her. He loved her because she gave him the two greatest gifts of his life. He loved her, because without her Daisy and Lily wouldn’t exist.

He loved her because he loved his daughters. But he wasn’t in love with her.

They did make a great team. They balanced each other out like a well calibrated set of scales.

Maeve was the strict parent whilst the girls had Spencer wrapped around their little fingers. They learnt at an early age how they only had to give him a certain look and he would offer them the world on a silver platter.

He was content. Parenthood was hard but he had Maeve to fall back on. It wasn’t exactly how he saw his life playing out but he’d resigned himself to it.

Over the years as the girls grew older, Spencer finally started to believe he might actually be in love with his wife.

They had fun together. Maeve made him laugh and she was fascinating to talk to. And admittedly their sex life was incredible, even after all those years of marriage.

She was Spencer’s best friend. He supposed she was the love of his life considering he didn’t really have anything to compare it to. He could picture growing old with her while their kids had their own families. He could imagine them reminiscing about their life together in years to come.

He could see them on a porch swing at seventy years old wrapped up in blankets and sipping hot cocoa. He’d read Arthur Conan Doyle to her while she laid her head on his shoulder.

Maybe that’s all love was. Maybe love was as simple as being comfortable with someone and being content. It was possible he’d built up expectations in his mind of what he thought love would be like. Perhaps what he and Maeve had was real love.

And just when Spencer thought all the hardships in his life had passed, just as he’d grown accustomed to his life and gotten comfortable with the way things were, Maeve dropped one final bombshell.

And this one forced the air from his lungs in an entirely different way than finding out she was pregnant.

Daisy was twelve and Lily was six the day Maeve came home in tears and told Spencer she couldn’t lie to him anymore.

She proceeded to sob as she regaled him with the story of her three year long affair. She shared every single sordid detail of how she met the man named Bobby and had a few too many drinks before falling into his bed.

She re-enacted every moment of her infidelity including the part where she fell in love with Bobby.

Spencer felt his life flash before his eyes. He saw every moment of their relationship before him, as he listened to her recount her affair.

He’d tried so hard to love her for the sake of his kids. He’d been nothing but the perfect husband to her and this was how she’d repaid him?

He felt like a complete idiot.

Maeve had finished by telling Spencer she still loved him. She told him she didn’t want their marriage to be over.

Spencer’s response was to tell her to go to hell.

There was no talking about it. There was no discussion of where they went from here. To Spencer there was only one way this ended and it was not up for debate.

So now a year after the fateful day that destroyed life as he knew it, Spencer was facing his hardest challenge ever: single parenthood.

Maeve moved out of their family home the very day she’d disclosed her affair at Spencer’s insistence. She’d tried to convince him to work on things, to at least talk to her.

But Spencer was done. He kicked her out and had barely said two words to her since.

The divorce papers were finalised a few months ago.

Hotch had some old contacts from his days as a prosecutor which helped Spencer gainprimary custody of the girls and they spent every other weekend with their adulterous bitch of a mother.

Spencer stayed in their family home, and Maeve moved in with Bobby.

He had to cut his hours at work to be there for the girls. Daisy who was now thirteen understood more of what was going on than seven year old Lily who kept asking why mommy didn’t live with them anymore.

Life was intrinsically unfair. It was one thing for Maeve to hurt him, but another entirely for her to hurt their daughters.

Picking up the pieces in the wake of his wife’s betrayal was the biggest challenge of Spencer’s life. Because it wasn’t just his pieces that needed picking up, it was Daisy and Lily’s too.

Some days Spencer barely held it together for himself, let alone them. On some weekends they spent with that cheating whore he would spend forty eight hours with several bottles of scotch and his couch.

Sometimes he’d go out. Sometimes he’d call up Luke or Matt or Emily and go to a bar and get blind drunk and stare at the tan mark where his wedding ring had sat for thirteen long years.

Some weekends he didn’t even get out of bed.

But without fail, once his daughters were back in his care, Spencer put everything aside for them. He plastered on a smile, he cooked dinner and asked about their days. He drove them to and from school and read to them and played with their toys with them.

If Spencer Reid knew one thing to be true it was this: he was a great dad. He put his all into giving his angels everything they could possibly need. He showered them with love and adoration. He taught them everything he knew. He made sure they would grow up to be better women than their skank of a mother.

But when they weren’t around, he crumbled.

That’s not to say he was necessarily heartbroken. He’d never loved Maeve the way he should have. But he’d been comfortable, he’d had a stable life he’d grown accustomed to and Maeve threw it all away for some man named Bobby.

Thirteen years of marriage, two beautiful daughters and a large home in the Virginia suburbs weren’t enough for her. He wasn’t enough for her.

Spencer had been abandoned one too many times before for this not to rip him apart from the inside.

He’d spent years trying to love Maeve for the sake of Daisy and then later for Lily too. He’d put his all into a relationship he’d never really wanted in the first place.

He’d wasted all these years trying because he knew Maeve loved him. He did it for her. Only for her to throw it back in his face.

It made him feel like a fool, and no one made Spencer feel a fool.

But he held it together. He kept his anger and his sadness bottled up for the sake of his daughters who didn’t deserve any of this.

And that was how, at forty four years old, Spencer found himself a single divorced dad.

***

It was nearing the end of winter and the cold days and bitter nights were expected to pass soon.

Gloves and hats had been left behind in the previous weeks but Spencer still ensured he wrapped his girls up in their winter coats and scarfs before they left the house.

He dropped Daisy and Lily off at school like he did every morning, stopped by his favourite coffee shop for his morning fix and then drove to Georgetown for his morning class.

The girls had been at their moms for the weekend and if truth be told, Spencer was still feeling a little worse for wear after his weekend of binge drinking.

He wasn’t as young as he used to be, he didn’t bounce back as quickly as he would have once had.

Luke and Matt had taken him out, slightly against his will. He would have much preferred to stay home and drink alone but when the two men had arrived on his doorstep, it made it harder to decline.

His old team members kept telling him he needed to move on. They told him needed to get back out there and meet someone if he ever wanted to be happy.

But dating was the last thing on Spencer’s mind. Dating had always been difficult for Spencer but now with two kids it was neigh on impossible.

He had too much else on his mind to bother with dating. Luke and Matt had reluctantly let it slide.

The coffee in his hand aided in keeping him warm as he strolled across campus and also went some way to stemming his hangover.

He tugged the lopsided purple scarf tighter around his neck as he fought against a soft breeze.

The trees lining the path were still bare, looking somewhat baron this time of year. He looked forward to spring when all the flowers on campus came alive again, filling the otherwise drab courtyard with bursts of colour.

The path ahead of him was clear and it looked like he might make a clean break to his office without any students asking for assistance on last week's lecture.

He lifted the coffee to his lips again and relished in the way the liquid warmed him from the inside out. When he lowered his cup, he noticed someone now stood in the middle of the path ahead, effectively blocking his way.

The person was facing away from him, something in their hands garnering their attention. A large navy overcoat hung around their frame, almost coming down to touch the floor.

As he approached he realised there was no way around this person without walking across the grass and the groundskeepers frowned upon that.

The figure didn’t even seem to realise they were in anyone's way, or even hear him coming.

“Uh…” Spencer cleared his throat. “You’re kinda blocking the path.”

Your eyes suddenly snapped up from the paper clutched in your hands and you spun to look at him, slightly wide eyed.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” You brought the paper to your chest, a look of shock on your features. “I’m lost, if you couldn’t tell.”

In his entire life, Spencer had never felt his world stop turning the way it did when he looked at you for the very first time.

You had a smile that could bring a thousand men to their knees. Your eyes sparkled as if they held all the stars in the sky.

The last time Spencer felt the air leave his lungs like this was when a woman he’d had a one night stand with told him she was pregnant.

But this time he was breathless for completely different reasons.

He watched you tuck the piece of paper inside your purse that hung from your shoulder. He willed himself to speak, to say anything as opposed to standing and staring dumbly.

“Uh…” he swallowed. “Where are you trying to go?l

“Do you work here?” You smiled sweetly at him, toying with the strap of your bag.

“Uh yeah.” Spencer nodded, feeling as though his IQ had been completely slashed just by looking into your eyes.

“Oh great!” You bounced on the balls of your feet. “It’s my first day. I’m trying to find Professor Monroe’s office but this place is so…huge.”

A breeze fluttered past and he watched the way it caused strands of your hair to dance. He tried to ignore the effect such a simple action had on him.

“Oh, sure.” Spencer nodded. “He’s over in the psychology building. I’m heading there myself, I can show you?”

“That would be great.” You nodded, waiting for him to lead the way.

He started walking again in the direction of the psychology building and you fell into step with him. Your heeled boots clicked against the concrete as you strolled together and Spencer found the sound oddly comforting.

You fell into silence and Spencer wanted to talk to you, about everything and nothing, but he found himself at a loss for words.

When he’d first laid eyes on Maeve all those years ago across the crowded bar, he thought she was beautiful, but he wasn’t floored by her.

Conversation had come easy with her but that was probably only because he didn’t feel so tongue tied around her.

She hadn’t knocked him for six the way you had, causing his brain to short circuit and effectively shut down.

His reaction to seeing you for the first time was how Spencer always pictured great love stories to begin.

He was nervous and his palms were sweating even though it wasn’t warm. His heart was racing more than it had a right to, and it only got worse when he saw you glancing at him as you walked.

You made him feel dumbstruck, causing his usually impressive brain to become a ball of cotton wool. He’d never in his life felt this way before.

“What do you teach?” You suddenly asked him, snapping him out of his daze.

Your words felt as though they waltzed to his ears, wrapping him in a warmth DC hadn’t seen for months.

“Criminal Psychology.” He heard the way his voice cracked, he hoped you didn’t notice. “You’re a bit late in the year to be joining a class aren’t you?”

You giggled and the sound sent shockwaves through Spencer’s body. It was a sound of hope, of freedom; a sound that ignited something in Spencer he thought had long ago died.

“I’m not a student, although I’m flattered that you think so.”

“No?” Spencer raised an eyebrow at you.

“No, I’m a TA. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to come up here for a while and thankfully I was top of the list when his last TA left suddenly.”

You reached the psychology building and Spencer held the door open for you.

You smiled in thanks as you brushed past him inside and he caught the scent of your hair.

“He’s a really good professor.” Spencer mused out loud as you walked the corridor together.

“Yes, I’m excited to work with him.”

Spencer came to a stop outside Monroe’s office and motioned to the door.

“This is him.” The plaquared on the door stating his name should have been enough to suggest that but thankfully you didn’t point that out.

“Thank you so much. The last thing I needed was to be late on my first day.”

“You’re very welcome.” Spencer felt a knot forming in his stomach at the thought of saying goodbye to you so soon.

And by the way you hovered in the corridor he wondered if you felt it too.

“I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N Y/L/N.” You offered him a slightly awkward wave.

“Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Oh I know who you are.” Your lip turned up at the corner. “Doctor Spencer Reid, former BAU Agent.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly as he gave you a curious look.

“I…uh…should I be scared?” He scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m just…a fan.” You shrugged. “Your thesis on Identifying Non-Obvious Relationship Factors Using Cluster Weighted Modelling and Geographic Regression was fascinating.”

Spencer felt himself blushing, never one to take compliments.

“I wrote that when I was at CalTech. You couldn’t have even been born.”

Again you shrugged and your eyes twinkled in that way that left Spencer speechless.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Doctor Reid.” You clutched the door handle behind you. “Hopefully I’ll see you around.”

“I really hope so.” He admitted.

He watched you open the door and continued to stay vigil until you disappeared behind it.

His heart was yet to return to a normal rhythm even after you were out of sight.

His hangover was a long forgotten memory and for the first time in years, Spencer felt alive again.

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