#mostly about mother goose

[sn1ckie]

me waiting for hyper specific events to happen in the neverafter campaign so i can make edits to into the woods songs

[fan-goddess]

can you hotd characters (mostly alicent and rhaenrya) when the reader almost passes in child birth? thank youuuu :3

A/N: Yep can do! I’ve never given birth, gotten pregnant nor seen anything resembling child birth apart from the Aemma scene in HOTD so I hope I did this justice!? Sorry this has taken so long!

Character Roll Call: Rhaenyra, Alicent, Daemon, Aemond and Jacaerys (All romantic love)

Warnings: Child birth, talk of infertility, talk of not able to have children, pregnancy, she/her pronouns used in some places for reader, talk of death during childbirth, talk about smut but no smut, dirty talk, a most likely inaccurate childbirth telling, graphic detailing of blood and gore, this is not proofread! (if I miss any please let me know in a way you’re most comfortable!)

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

It was not the typical marriage you and your husband shared. For whilst you had never had a particular fondness for goose, he understood that and went after his own interest in tasting the variety the world provided him with.

So while he was off exploring, you were in the chambers of the heir of the realm. Showing her your devotion in the most unexpected of ways.

Yet soon, after nearly two years of marriage with no children, people were beginning to become suspicious of your womb. More specifically, your husband’s own family. There was talk of them already arranging a second marriage for him as your womb was supposedly infertile. So after a talk with him, you and your husband for a whole of three months, with the help of Rhaenyra. And just when you thought your efforts were unsuccessful, the maester greeted you with a smile, and told you you were with child.

Your lover took the news surprisingly well, as Rhaenyra spent all hours of the day with you comparing possible names for the baby. Your husband had done his part in this game. Now, you and Nyra could spend your days eating the cake and kissing the days away. Acting oblivious to the hateful world surrounding the two three of you.

“What about Aurion?” Nyra suggests, a lazy smile on her lips as she places a fork with a large chunk of vanilla cake on the end between your lips.

“Hmmmmm” You hum, smiling in thought. “Perhaps let’s not raise more suspicions than we’d like my darling. How about something not so Valyrian?”

She laughs, and yet agrees with you with her smile turning strained and sad. Her hand reaches for your own instinctively and you quickly move to grab it and squeeze it tight. “Alright alright! What about Rhys? Ivan? Those are some more boring names!”

You laugh, and yet make sure to note them down somewhere in your head. You discuss names of girls also, just in case. Yet months later as you sat screaming your heart out on the birthing bed, those names disappeared as pain became all you know.

“You must push my lady! The baby is trapped you must push!” One of the ladies in waiting says as she positions herself by your bottom half.

“I’M TRYING TO FUCKING PUSH!” You scream, sweat dripping down your face as your eyes screw shut. Your voice loud as the pain spreads further through you, till eventually you feel it all over.

Soon, the pain that blooms all over becomes numbing. Especially, when you feel your eyes becoming heavy, eventually shutting so all you see is black and the world becomes silent.

“What is happening?!” Rhaenyra screams, her face becoming pale as memories of her mother come flooding to her head. “What is happening to her?!”

“The lady is haemorrhaging!” One of the maesters yells, a multitude of rags of all sorts in his hands as he attempts to stop the blood from further dripping onto the floor. The babe that had quite literally fallen out of your whilst you had fallen unconscious was quickly taken away by the ladies in waiting to be cleaned and attended to. So now, all focus was on keeping you alive. By order of the future Queen of Westeros.

It feels as thought it had taken hours to stop the bleeding. Yet that meant nothing till Rhaenyra who waited anxiously by your side with your hand in her own. Her fingers poised by your pulse so she can reassure herself that you were truly living beside her and not dead like her mother.

By the time you had finally begun to rouse from your deep slumber, the day had turned to night. And all those in the room were exhausted from the effort it took. The maesters in particular, who knew that if they allowed themselves to slack, the princess would soon be upon them with the fury of the dragons.

“My love….” Rhaenyra whispered, at this point uncaring of the multiple people in that room who’d scuttle themselves to her father and the hand at the slightest chance of a scandal. “Do you hurt?”

“As much as childbirth allows me to be in…” You laugh, yet wincing as soon as your body moves. “I am glad you were here… i fear if you weren’t-“

“Do not speak of such things!” Rhaenyra begs, her hands clutching your own tightly as if she was fearful you would drop dead. “I forbid it!”

“Do you say that as my future queen or as my friend?” You murmur, both knowing the true meaning of the word.

“I say that as both..” Rhaenyra whispers, kissing the top of your head as one of the ladies in waiting comes in holding the bundle containing your baby.

“It’s a daughter, my lady.” She says, walking over and placing her in your arms.

“She’s beautiful…” you can’t help but say, brushing away one of her curls from her eyes. You can feel Rhaenyras eyes on you, and so you take her hand and somehow manage to pull her closer.

“I wish to name her Arya.” You firmly say, locking eyes with your daughter who begins to cry in hunger.

“Beautiful…” Rhaenyra says, unable to tear her eyes from the sight of you beginning to breastfeed your child.

Alicent Hightower:

Even while Alicent was married to the king, yours and hers unique relationship had never once wavered. When Alicent had her children with the king, who did not even enter the room when the time of birth came, it was you who held her hand in place of her mother’s, and murmured soft words of encouragement and affirmation into her ears.

While you had your own, even though your mother was there to be by your side as a place of comfort, it was only Alicent name that sprung from your lips. Begging for her to come closer so you can hold her hand and beg her for mercy and encouragements.

Most recently, your third pregnancy had been said by the maesters to be the most difficult one yet. Pain was all you knew through those last few months. Pain in your legs from when you were forced to walk to the dining hall. Pain in your belly from where not only did the baby insist on kicking but also from the cramps the maesters insisted did not need to be further looked at.

Yet Alicent was always close by ready to lend a helping hand whenever the moment allowed her too. According to her, she still has the old treatment the maesters had prescribed her with just in case she fell pregnant again after Daeron.

“You… my utter darling, are my world!” You moaned, eyes shut closed as Alicent carefully massaged the soothing ointment into the base of your feet. She continues to help whenever she can. The ointments and herbs she providing you with being much better than anything the dreading maesters could’ve ever given you.

Yet like most treatments, the effectiveness wore off. Soon, not even the most obscure of medicines would work on you. Pain was always lingering in every part of your body. Even in places you had no idea were on your body.

“I just want this babe out of me!” You groan one night while Alicent once again attempts to stop your pain using this time a supposed miracle working ointments from Lys. “Nothing is fucking working!”

“Well complaining won’t solve anything!” Alicent attempts to jest, though quickly haults any other further attempt after a harsh glare worthy enough to rival the Strangers is sent hastily her way. “Perhaps it is the gods way of telling you how strong you are for having this child? A way to tell you how powerful your son will no doubt be in the future?”

“I would not care if I was to birth a dragon for gods sakes I only with for it to come out of me so I can no longer feel so fucking horrible!” You groan, “I have already told my lord husband that this shall be my last time on that fucking bed! If he even brings his cock within inches of me it’s being torn off his body and fed to your children’s dragons my love!”

“Oh hush now!” Alicent scows, a rare bout of anger coming about her. “The gods have their meanings and their ways! Though I for once shall agree with you. You will be having three beautiful children my love, and that is all you need. Perhaps you could give birth to a daughter and we can betroth her to Aemond?”

“Perhaps…”

By the time the ninth moon has passed, it is quick to say that you were very much serious about this being your last child.

“GET THE FUCKING CHILD OUT OF ME!” You scream, the maesters wincing at the volume rivalling that of a child being born. Something your own child it seems is refusing to let happen. “RIP IT OUT IF MUST BUT IF I DIE I SHALL HAUNT THIS KEEP FOREVER MORE!”

“There shall be no talk of dying on this bed from you!” Alicent yells, her grip on your hands almost as tight as your hand on hers.

The maesters voices cutting through though as they announce how they can see the babes head. Meaning to much your relief the pain will hopefully be soon over and you can hold the thing that’s been hurting you for nearly nine moons in your arms to give it a stern talking off.

You make sure to push hard when the maesters tell you too, even pushing when they don’t so you could hopefully get the babe out quicker. But even when you feel the babe quite literally fall out of you and hear its cries, the maesters make their own cries far more audible.

“Alicent what is happening?!” You ask, feeling what feels like warm liquid gushing from your lower half. Only she does not respond. Only turning paler than the sheets that with horror, you realise are turning a deep red from blood. Your blood.

And It only turns worse when you realise just how faint you feel. A once iron grip you had on Alicents hand turning weak and feeble as your eyes slowly begin shutting.

It’s all a blur when you feel your body waking. Yet still your eyes have not grown enough strength to open, so it’s with great horror you realise you are still conscious but are practically unable to move. You are alive but it is as if your body is dead.

You can hear Alicent beg for your sake. And you realise with your heart beating frantically in your chest that you can also hear her hushing a baby you had not realised was crying this whole time. Your baby.

“Your mother is sleeping now…” You can hear her say, tears building in your eyes when you hear how damaged her voice sounds. “She is strong, your mother. She will wake and see what a beautiful baby boy she has waiting for her… it won’t be long now. I promise.”

You try as hard as you can to open your eyes, yet your attempts prove to be impossible. Yet somehow, you manage to utter two words to your lover while your lower half screams in pain at you.

“Thank you…”

Daemon Targaryen:

It was no surprise to anyone when after a few mere moons after your marriage to the rogue Prince Daemon, you were announcing you were pregnant with his child.

The king had said his congratulations and announced a feast in his nephew or nieces name, and even Daemon had to admit the whole ceremony was wonderful.

Yet like everything in life, all good things must come to an end. The announcement of the first babe of the rogue prince turned sour as news quickly spread about how much pain you were in from them.

The babe refused to let you rest for even a second. All it did was kick and kick, and make you feel shitter than any other possible ailment in the world. You almost felt like having a conversation with the stranger after one too many bouts of particularly bad spells.

“You must let your muña rest ñuha trēsy… let ñuha jorrāelagon rest…” Daemon murmurs one night against the swollen bulge of your stomach. The warmth his dragon like body providing you with being possibly the best thing he’s given you since the day you married him.

“You know I do not understand a single thing you say in that tongue of yours…” You say, eyes closed as you relish in the lack of kicking and blinding pain. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was at least obvious now that your child had chosen favourites.

“Just because you cannot understand something does not mean you cannot understand the beauty of it.” Daemon murmurs, his voice gentle and nurturing as he continues attempting to soothe you.

His words to others would be considered strange and out of character. But as you’ve come to realise over the time of your betrothal and marriage, even though that shared time has lasted around only a year, you know deep down beneath the hardened dragon scale skin of his is a heart that bears solely for the life of those he loves. The latest addition being of course the babe of his own blood nestled in your belly.

It was such a lovely moment, and yet it seemed that would be the last of its kind the rest of the time your babe was steadily growing inside. The more time passed the less Daemons unusually warm body worked in soothing your unrelenting aches and pains.

“Are you okay ñuha jorrāelagon?” He asks one evening, his brows furrowed in what has become a near constant state of stress and worry for you. For is has now nearly been a full nine moons of pregnancy, and with that, it means the babe will hopefully be born.

“Unless you can get this child out of me with no pain,” You grunt, mentally cursing Daemons cock for being what it was. “Then I suggest you leave me be and allow me to wallow with the seed you yourself placed within me!”

For the first time in a while, Daemons worried stricken face turns cheery as he laughs at the familiar wit of yours that helped him to fall in love with you in the first place. The rest of the day is filled with similar circumstances, as while the babe continues to make your days a misery, Daemon is right by your side never ever venturing too far away from you.

You suppose it is why he insisted on being by your side when two days pass and you were on the birthing bed, his hand locked firmly in yours while your screams echo off the walls. You swear you can feel your cunt tear and drip with blood, yet with how much you screamed you honestly couldn’t be able to hear it.

“Please Daemon!” You beg, a multitude of tears running down your face. “Please make it stop!”

“It’ll be over soon ñuha jorrāelagon…” Daemon tries to comfort you with soft words and a tight reassuring grip, and yet his face clear as day is struck with fear and nervousness.

“You said that hours ago Daemon!” You sob, screaming even more as you feel the dragon spawn within you break even more of your innards. “I just want it out!”

“You will my love you will! You are strong and brave and a fighter! You will not die today do you hear me!?”

Daemons hands envelope the sides of your head to force you to look and him, and yet he’s utterly horrified when your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hand that was once clutching his shirt for dear life falls limply by your side.

Daemons words reach no bounds as he insults the maesters and common people alike, swearing if his wife was to die then all shall die with her. So even in the seven hells his wife can make sure she achieves the justice she deserves.

Yet it somehow enrages him further when by the next hour, the maesters have managed to successfully take out the babe from within you, and present it to him as his first born, whilst other maesters make quick work of stemming the bleeding and disposing of the evidence.

Daemons eyes watche as a wet nurse moves to take his son into her arms and takes him into another room so she can clean his son, and it’s not until they’ve left does he begin to shout.

“IS THAT ALL IT TOOK? MY WIFE WAS SCREAMING IN AGONY ON THE BED, BLOOD POURING OUT, AND YET IT IS ONLY WHEN YOUR LIVES ARE THREATENED DO YOU HELP HER?!” He yells, his hand clutching the hilt of dark sister as a reminder that he has the upper hand. He’s the prince of the realm. The rogue Prince. If he wanted to kill people then he will fucking kill someone.

The maesters faces turn ashen as they stand there, practically shaking as they fear for their lives. Daemon is almost tempted to actually kill them. To send a message that no one fucks around with the rogue princes wife. That is however, until he hears a stir behind him and feels a familiarly soft hand clutch his own that previously had clutched dark sister.

“My love!” Daemon breathes, his face one of pure joy as he drops the sword hastily and moves to clutch your still weak body in his arms. “I was so worried!”

“What have you done with my Daemon?” He can hear you say, the laughter in your tone surprising considering what had just happened.

“Don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon, he was here a few moments ago, about to kill some pathetic fucking maesters…” Daemon begins, turning with a dark glare when he sees the said maesters still standing where they were before in fear. “But I suggest they scarper before dark sister becomes hungry for rat blood once more!”

This time, Daemon doesn’t turn back to watch them all practically run from the room. Not when there is someone in front of him so much more important.

“Where are they?” You say, your movements still sluggish as you wince while trying to turn your body to look around the room.

“Where is who ñuha jorrāelagon?” Daemon asks, preoccupied with finding the cup of milk of the poppy one of the maesters had said was somewhere in the room. A hum of satisfaction slipping his lips when he eventually sees it and grabs it, before placing it by your lips to try and force you to drink it.

“Where’s our baby?” You murmur, wincing again when the bitter taste of the drink runs down your throat. “I want to see them!”

“I will get him for you jorrāelagon.” Daemon says, moving to the direction of where the wet nurse had taken his son too. When he does find her, he does not care for whatever she has to say. Instead just moving to take the boy in his arms and walk back to you, who’s already sat up through the pain ready to see your son.

“Oh Daemon…” You breath, your eyes focused solely on the babe in his arms. “He’s beautiful…”

“He takes after you…” Daemon murmurs back. A soft smile on his face as he moves the boy into your arms. “What shall we name him my love?”

“What about Aenor? First of his name…”

“I love it…” Daemon murmurs, kissing the top of your sweat soaked head and moving to perch against the edge of the bed transfixed by the holy sight in front of him. “I love you…”

Aemond Targaryen:

Your husband wasn’t anything except attentive. Every moment after finding out you were with child he spent within meters of yourself. Even when you slept, his hand was always placed on your stomach.

“I would never allow myself to live if you were hurt ñuha vēzos.” Aemond would murmur against your skin, amongst other Valyrian words this time against the curve of your slowly swelling belly. Each one sending your skin further and further aflame with desire and love for your husband.

The whole pregnancy though, for the most of it, was smooth and ordinary. The baby had begun to kick a little after the fifth moon of your pregnancy, and Aemond was eager to experience every part of it. Yet when you’d passed the eighth moon, that was when everything began to turn on its head.

Pain was blooming in your stomach nearly everyday, and even with the maesters having to forcibly pour milk of the poppy down your throat, you had resisted firmly, not wanting the babies health to be put as such risk especially so close to the due date. Especially when you have been in the presence of the king, who openly abused the opioid near daily.

Yet the maesters with stern eyes and unwavering faces, claimed that if anything, it was the pain inside you that would risk the babies health. So whilst you wished pain on the maesters, they stood there stiffly with a near full to the brim cup of the drink. They watched every time you were needed to drink it. Even going as far as to make you open your mouth wide to make sure you weren’t resisting.

Aemond though like he had done so earlier in your pregnancy, was never as far as an arms reach. He never said anything to maesters face to face, yet he certainly did not hide his anger from you when the two of you would lay in bed holding one another in a close embrace.

“If it weren’t for the babe, I’d strike them where they stand…” He’d begun to murmur. Starting his now usual evening moan about how according to him, they weren’t good enough to care for his pregnant wife. Sometimes it’s sad as you realise how he at his lowest points believes even he is not good enough for you.

“Don’t let that stop you…” You indiscreetly murmur back, a clear glare on your face as you try to drink something to wash away the bitter taste of milk of the poppy.

“Dont you tempt me now ñuha vēzos… I very much can and will make my way to wherever those men lie and slaughter them before it’s time to break fast tomorrow.” Aemond chuckles, a comforting hand on your stomach where near instantly you can feel the babe kick twice. As if the babe was eager to say hello to its father.

“That’s right ñuha valītsos… kepa is here…” Aemond murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your very spine. If you weren’t already eight moons pregnant, you very well would be eager to take him right at this moment and take his seed deep inside till it takes root.

“You are getting distracted valītsos…” Aemond says, smirking at the dark blush that spreads on your face. It matters not how long you’ve been married to Aemond for, since he’ll always manage to find a way to fluster him. You suppose it’s as fun for him as it is for you to fluster him. Though you suppose by doing that is how you ended up in this position in the first place…

“How can I not, when theres such a beautiful man in front of me?” You say, grinning triumphantly when Aemonds own face turns a light pink. It’s not as dark as your own, but even seeing Aemond blush without him trying to hide himself away counts as a win to you.

The two of you revel in the rare soft moment between you both, and it’s not long before you both fall asleep holding each other.

It felt so perfect at that moment, as all the previous worries about the babe swept away. The both of you honestly didn’t think the whole ordeal could get worse. That is however, until your waters broke and you were lying on the birthing bed. Your screams breaking Aemonds heart as he tries his best to comfort you to the best of his ability.

Yet his controlled anger and frustration comes out in waves as your screams continue further and further into the day, and the maesters it seems are no further to helping you than from when they started.

Aemond withholds every single urge to kill them for their insolence for your sake, given that they are supposedly they best men available to help bring his and your child into the world. Though when he sees your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body go limp after attempting to push the babe out again per the maesters instructions, all hell broke loose there and then.

“What have you done!?” Aemond yells, his voice whilst commanding also torn with how scared he feels at that moment. His uncles wife, and his grandsires wives had died in childbirth attempting to bring a child into the world. He cannot have such a thing happen to you.

“You are meant to help my wife not fucking kill her! If she is to die today then so shall all of you! Your blood shall stain these walls if she dies do you all understand!” He yells, tears brimming in his eyes from how emotional he currently feels. Aemond refuses to let go of you hand as the maesters scurry around like rats to appease him.

It’s not long before the sound of a babes cry brings him from his sorrowful thoughts.

“It’s a daughter my Prince.” One of the maesters says, before handing her off to a nearby maid presumably to go clean her off of all of your blood and other bodily fluids Aemond most certainly does not wish to be thinking of right now.

Instead, Aemond chooses to grab a lone damp cloth free from any uncleanliness, and carefully uses it to wipe away the sweat on your face. Yet even with all of that Aemond still believes you to be as beautiful as when he first ever saw you.

The sound of your blood onto the floor that Aemond had tried to ignore for his own sake earlier finally stops, and he’s grateful that the maid comes back with his daughter then so he doesn’t have to think about any of that.

“I will give the baby to a wetnurse my Prince for her first feed.” The maid begins to say, about to walk away. That is however before she feels the princes hand clutching tightly on her shoulder forbidding her to leave.

“She will feed from her mother.” Aemond says firmly, moving to take his daughter away from the silly woman’s grasp. “‘Twas a decision me and my wife made and you shall respect that. Now leave.”

The maid stands there a moment surprised, even looking to the maesters for guidance in the situation. But when Aemond looks up at them with a cold glare on his face and a sneer on his lips, both the maesters and the maid make quick work on leaving the Prince with his daughter in his arms and his unconscious wife by his side.

He does not know how long it is till you finally begin to stir, and yet it does not matter. All that does matter is that you woke at all.

“How are you feel ñuha vēzos?” Aemond murmurs, his daughter in one arm as in the other he holds the cup holding the milk of the poppy he makes you drink. Making sure you don’t waste a drop.

“Like I’ve given birth…” You simply say, suddenly focusing on the baby in Aemonds arms. “Is that-“

“Yes ñuha vēzos. This is our daughter.”

Aemonds hands her to you, and when she begins to stir it’s almost instantly you bring down your dress and place her near your breast. Hissing slightly as she begins to immediately nurse from it.

“She’s beautiful.” You find yourself saying, refusing to take your eyes from her. “She looks like you sweet husband.”

“She may look like me but I believe she has her mother’s beauty.” Aemond says, moving to hold your hand in his. “What shall we name her my love?”

“What about Elaenor?”

“It’s perfect…” Aemond says, kissing the top of your head. “She’s perfect…”

Jacaerys Velaryon:

It appears Jacaerys was ever as loyal as they say. As even after being married in an arranged fashion, and finding out you were pregnant with his child after consummating the marriage, his presence was never far from you.

When in the middle of the night sickness plagued your body, it was Jace who was right there next to you with a bucket in hand. Even going as far as to hold your hair back with his hand so no sick could ruin it.

“Is this what it is like for all women?” Jace asks, attempting to smooth you while you once again throw your dinner up into a bucket, groaning whilst you do so.

“Only the lucky…” You moan, about to turn to look at your husband before you find yourself immediately needing to throw up again.

At first, it was strange to you to have a husband be so close and eager to be by up side, given the stories that your mother had told you. Yet now, you honestly could not think of your marriage without the little services Jace provides you with.

Whenever you find yourself craving a certain food, no matter how bizarre or disgusting it may seem to him, Jace was always willing to call a maid and inform her to make it for you.

“Thank you husband.” You sigh in delight, chewing on some honey dipped carrots in the comfort of yours and Jaces bed.

“It is no problem my lady.” He says, awkwardly perched by the edge of the bed covers while he watches you eat.

“You can come closer Jace…” You laugh, patting the side of the bed indicating your want to have him closer to you. His warmth comforting. His smile kind. “You have seen me naked before. I do not think you have the ability right now to be shy. Call me by my name Jace. It is only fair since I have been calling you by yours.”

“Of course… wife.” Jace smiles, a strange girlish sounding giggle leaving your lips as he moves himself closer and opens his arms so he can enclose you in them. “Has the babe been bothering you much today?”

“Only as much as usual.” You sigh, choosing to invite his pointed stare in honour of eating another one of your special foods. “Though not as much as I have been eating these.”

“That is good.” He simply says, softly kissing the top of your head as he touches the skin of your arms with his hand. “That is good…” He repeats again more gentler than the last.

The next few months all went smooth as they could go. You were still throwing up in the mornings and some evenings, and experienced some horrible cramps once every few weeks. What was the most difficult and painful thing you had to endure however, was the birth of the babe itself.

It felt like it was ripping out of you. Screams pierced the air as it felt as if the babe was determined to take your insides out with it.

“It hurts!” You cry, holding Jaces hand so hard he has to hide any audible winces in pain, as whilst he is not the most experience man with women, he knew at that moment to not even think about saying his own pain. Not when he could tell his pain was like a mere headache compared to your own.

“It will soon be over!” Jace says, trying to squeeze your hand in an attempt to comfort you and let you know he is here. But with how much pain is flowing through your system he honestly doubts you can feel it right now.

“I just want it out!” You yell, screaming again as the maester intruders you to push. It’s almost like a rhythm, as when the maester tells you to push, you push. And when you push, you scream at the top of your lungs. It’s like that for what feels like hours and hours on end.

Yet soon, it’s finally over, as the maester finally steps away from you holding a crying baby. The maester looks at him, and shows him his crying daughter.

“A daughter my Prince.” The maester says, placing her in Jaces arms. Your husband’s eyes unable to tear away from the smallest child he thinks he’s ever seen. Possibly smaller than Joffrey from when he saw him as a child.

He turns to you to show you with a smile on his face, but that soon disappears when he sees your face.

“My love?” Jace begins, looking worriedly at your pale sweat layered skin. “You do not look well…”

You try to answer, and yet you even with all your strength you cannot even find yourself able to move your lips, your head even.

That though is when Jace turns his own head and sees the frantic moving of all the maesters and ladies in the room. It’s when he hears a most frightening of sounds. The sound of your blood falling and dripping onto the stone floor. It’s almost worse when he sees how deeply stained your dress is by your own blood.

He’s frozen as he stands there, completey horrified by what he’s seeing and hearing and yet he cannot find himself able to move. His daughter still in his arms, only it’s when she begins to fuss and make sound does another lady in waiting take her into her own arms to put her from the room.

The maesters are beginning to yell now. At the ladies in waiting mainly but to each other a handful of times too. They sound too loud. But that may be because Jace hasn’t said a word since you collapsed against a bed. He does not know what it is he should say. He does not know what it is he should do. His mother has insisted he be in the birthing room alone with his wife, and yet here he is standing alone in the middle of it looking like an idiot.

Yet while he’s thinking, it’s like some sort of driven force when he suddenly realises he’s been holding your hand. Your skin feeling cold and damp from sweat, and Jace stays there the entire time holding onto your hand and staring at you face. He commits to memory the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, and the feeling of your heartbeat in his hand. He blocks out the sounds of chaos and panic, and chooses to focus on you.

Jacaerys slowly watches the colour bloom back into your face when the maesters finally manage to stem the flow of your blood and keep it inside you. Yet when he sees you open your eyes sluggish and exhausted, he cannot help but have his heart speed in happiness and joy. The smiles may have to come later though.

"My love, how do you feel?" Jace asks, still clutching your hand as he edges himself closer to you.

"Like l've given birth.." You simply say, even smiling as you slowly turn your head to look around the room. "Where is the babe?"

"She is with one of the ladies in the other room, if you wish me to fetch her I shall." He asks, watching as your eyes widen and your mouth fall open in what he can only say in a comedic fashion. Not that he'd dare mention that here though that is.

"We have a daughter…" You say, so silently that he barely even heard you. "Yes. Yes I want to see her!"

"I will go get the lady." Jace says, letting go of your hand for the first time in hours and admittedly as soon as he escapes your sights wipes the thick layer of sweat lingering on his hand on his shirt.

When he arrives back with his daughter in his arms though, he cannot help but smile as he watches your entire face light up at the sight of the babe with what could only be utter awe.

"We did that..." You say, reaching out and immediately rocking the small girl when she's in your arms. "We made her..."

“Yes…” Jace can’t help but agree with you, placing his hand on you as he sits beside you on the bed, watching you as you hold his and your child closely to your breasts. “We made her…”

[solkara]

❛ 𝐕𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 , rhaenyra targaryen ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , you since you were young you would be a sailor just like your father you loved the water but the only thing that you loved more than the sea was your family

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , rhaenyra targaryen x fem! velaryon! sailor! reader

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , so this is gonna be a two part thing for sure cuz I just had so many idea's to write down lol also reader is 3-4 year's older than laenor and laena in this fic also in the next part there might be a bit of rhaenyra's pov heheh

house of the dragon masterlist , next part

⌗ you were the eldest daughter of the sea snake. you had every reason to be as prideful as you were. you were the blood of old valyria and the daughter of the richest house in the seven realms. what wasn't there to be confident of?

⌗ growing up you were given the best of everything. the finest clothes jewellery and food. and while you had always been more on the masculine side. preferring sword fighting and play fighting with your father over more lady like actives. they never punished you for it though. if anything they encouraged it. well your father mostly did.

⌗ and your mother was supportive as long as you kept good manners when attending events and court. which was easy for you as long as you stayed far away from any form of lannister. as they had a natural talent for being able to bore you senseless. but something that never failed to excite you no matter how many times you were told it. were your father's stories of his adventures across the seas.

⌗ you had heard all of the stories more times than you could count. but you didn't care. as each time you heard them you seemed to become more and more fascinated. you begged your father to take you on one. but to your dismay you were always greeted with a firm no. before being told "wait until your older and you will be able to go on a voyage by yourself".

⌗ and so began the patient waiting game. as the years ticked by you were constantly bettering yourself for the day you could finally venture off alone and you became an older sister to laena and laenor. who quickly became your whole world. you adored being an older sister.

⌗ though you wouldn't admit it out loud you were closer with leanor. as laena was always off with the friends she had made in court. while the two of you preferred to spend your days sparring, going for dragon rides together on seasmoke and riptide, and talking about the things you had in common. one of them being. that you preferred goose. and he preferred duck.

⌗ the two of you guarded this secret with your lives and often covered for each other. as the other ventured off to meet with a lover. and when your parents found out about what the two of you had been doing. you defended each other when they said that. "this was just a faze". the two of you would die to protect each other so that made you going away all the more difficult.

⌗ it was your eighteenth name day. and your father had gifted you what you had always dreamed of. your very own ship which you had proudly named tides. in honor of your dragon. with a crew of loyal men to accompany you on your first-ever voyage. the twins did not leave your side all day begging you not to go. it broke your heart. the fact you couldn't take them with you. but you promised him that you would return with gifts for both of them. which calmed the two slightly though they were still upset.

⌗ as you hugged your mother, and kissed your siblings goodbye, you looked to your father who stood their watch. eyes shining with pride as well as unshead tears. pulling him into a hug you felt him burry his face into your hair before inhale your sent. as if he was trying to mentally memories you. as the two of you broke away you couldn't but smile at him.

⌗ and smiled even wider at him when he gifted you two new swords engavred with your name and house velaryon's sigil. and compass which had been attached to a gold chain to make a necklace which was also engraved. thanking your father for the gifts and saying your final goodbyes before departing. on your ship as riptide followed from above as wherever you went he went.

⌗ the moon's you spent at sea where truly some of the best days of your life. you and your crew had become somewhat of a family. spending your days and nights drinking singing songs telling stories and gathering treasure. while exploring the vast seas from essos all the way to yiti.

⌗ during which you indulging in your fair share of women of all shapes sized creeds and colours from common to high borns you had a taste of it all. though you never slept with them more than once. as you were not someone who was easily tied down. seeing yourself like the water free and forever changing.

⌗ you wrote your family often exhanging letters with your father and laenor the most. sharing tales of your adventures and other things that you had done while away. and you did return home to driftmark on rare occasions. once for laenor's wedding. which you didn't really care for as he was clearly miserable and it ended in disaster.

⌗ and the other time was to visit. with both times your parents suggesting you remain home for a while. but you politely declined as now that you had a taste for adventure you were unwilling to part with it. but that would quickly change after a turn of tragic events.

anon , hi !! so i saw that you're currently taking requests, so i have something in my mind, hehe. so, this would be a Rhaenyra x Velaryon fem!reader, and the reader is Laenor's older sister, who is a sailor who just came back from her long voyage on sea after finding out that his brother was murdered. the reader knows that Laenor prefers men more than women as Laenor is also aware that the reader prefers women. the moment the reader has set sail, she immediately heard some rumors how Rhaenyra ordered someone to kill her brother, and this sparked some hatred towards Rhaenyra. but, on the other hand, Rhaenyra is quite taken by the aura and confidence that the reader is giving. Rhaenyra made it her mission to try and properly explain the situation to the reader without the prying eyes and ears. Rhaenyra's only problem is that the reader doesn't trust her enough to be in a secluded room with her alone, whereas the reader is always glaring and avoiding to be near at Rhaenyra anytime the reader spots her in her point of view. you can choose the ending hehe >_<

[jetblack4realz]

idiot girlfriends - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary - bradley's stupid girlfriend doesn't understand that bradley has a life-long best friend, and that would be you

warnings - no

word count - 2.6k

______________________________________________________________

when you joined the navy, everyone knew it was only because of bradley bradshaw. well, and nick bradshaw. you wanted to do right by him and his memory by serving the same way he did and followed bradley into the navy, even pulling your own papers to graduate the same time and be in the same classes as him.

you two had been inseparable since you were toddlers. your mothers were childhood best friends and so when goose died carole moved her and brad right back to the same small town she grew up in in virginia, only a few doors down from you all.

so, when you two got assigned across the world from each other, it was a shock to everyone.

you met again in top gun, both competing for the top spot and landing ten marks above the rest of your classmates. you tied, which everyone thought was a good resolution, but you both teased about who really won for years.

you loved your line of work, emailing bradley on deployments and facetiming whenever the time difference allowed. you'd gone on random deployments off in fightertown and did a few in naples, but for the most part your commanding officers fought for you to stay in guam.

until the uranium mission.

you were ecstatic to be back in the states, stationed with him. and mav. but, mostly him. you'd jumped into his arms when you walked in and spotted him talking to your friends by the pool tables. everyone thought you guys were a thing, and you both were casual in blowing them off.

you trained hard, working well together in your fights against maverick. you managed to find tone on him once and only once, but hell, you were proud of it.

you flew with bradley and maverick, coyote as your backseater and accomplishing the mission. when he went down, you nearly had a heart attack. and when he got back it took everything in you not to kiss him, instead opting to wrap your arms around him in a death-grip of a hug.

because he had a girlfriend.

her name was gabbie, and she definitely gabbed. she was a brat, you and phoenix decided as soon as you were introduced to her.

"hey," bradley said with a wide smile, reaching out for you as he approached the group. you matched his smile and wrapped your arms tightly around him in a quick hug. when you pulled away, he offered phoenix a quick wave before he gestured to the girl with narrowed eyes behind him. "guys, this is gabbie. we've been together a couple months, she started emailing me this last deployment."

"right," you nodded, offering her a polite smile. "hi."

"this is phoenix, and this is minnie - or y/n," bradley said, gesturing to you with a soft smile. he looked back at his girlfriend. "she's my childhood best friend, i've known her forever."

"oh really?" she hummed with a dramatically sweet smile. "well, it's nice to meet you then."

"yeah, you too," you said with a nod. "wanna play pool with us? you could have the table next."

"does everyone in the navy play pool? even the women?" she laughed to rooster, his brows furrowing slightly. she looked back at you. "just because you're in the military doesn't mean you have to do everything the guys do. and you don't have to wear your hair that way on night's out either. you're off duty! dress cute!"

you were beyond shocked and so were the rest of your friends. your hair was up in a messy bun because yeah, you were tired after the week's dealings and didn't want to curl it. but also, top knots weren't regulation anyways.

and you thought it looked cute.

"i'm sorry?" you asked, tilting your head as you stared at her.

"well, do you like how i did my hair? i could show you if you want," she offered, playing with her front pieces, but it only made your grimace deepen.

"i'm good, thanks," you told her. you turned your attention to hangman, your go-to games partner. "jake - darts?"

as you walked away, whispering to him likely about gabbie, bradley watched with a frown.

whenever she hung out with the daggers she insisted that she would rather stay by his side than hang out with you and phoenix, making snide comments about women in the military and more about your appearance. and whenever you would try to have a private conversation with him, she was immediately by his side. you felt like you never talked to him anymore, that you couldn't talk to him anymore.

"wanna step outside for a minute?" you asked quietly, nodding your head to the back porch. "i need to talk to you about something."

"yeah, for sure," he answered quickly, his brows furrowed in concern. "what's wrong?"

you sighed, glancing around at where your friends were stood swinging back beers and shooting around the pool table in a game of 9-ball. your eyes caught on an approaching gabbie, a fresh mai tai in hand.

"can we go outside?"

"yeah, of course," he said with a nod. his hand hovered over your lower back as he ushered you to the back door, slipping out of it behind you and following you to the railing. he leaned his back against it, eyes on you.

"what's wrong?"

"my dad texted this morning," you said, breath shaky as you glanced at your phone. he looked down too, reaching for it when it was offered to him. "it's my mom."

the door opened and out came gabbie. "hey guys! what's up?"

"hey baby, i'm so sorry, but could you go back inside?" rooster asked gently, offering her an apologetic smile. "we're having a private conversation."

"too private for your girlfriend?" she asked, quirking a brow as she glanced at you. she looked you up and down and you hated how pissed off it made you.

"yeah, i'm sorry honey," he said. "it's personal."

"shouldn't i know about your personal things?" she asked, her tone still high and light enough to feign innocence, but you were getting increasingly upset as she refused to leave.

"it's not his personal life, it's mine. it's my stuff that i'd like to discuss with my best friend, in private," you said in as even a tone as you could produce.

"do you need help with anything?" she asked. "i could help too."

"no thank you," you said. "just bradley right now."

"no, i'm actually working front desk at a therapists' office right now and i've picked up on a few things. i'd be happy to work a few techniques with you if you're feeling depressed or-"

"forget it," you mumbled, shoving your phone in your pocket and pushing passed her to get inside.

bradley sighed, following you quickly. she tried to catch his arm, saying something about the sunset, but he followed you inside, mumbling apologies and trying to get you to talk to him again.

you offered him a thin smile. "later."

later never came. there wasn't enough time in the work day to talk about private matters and it seemed like gabbie now had a permanent tie to his side.

the girl infuriated you to your core.

but, for bradley's sake and trying to be a good best friend, you offered one night to get to know her outside of the hard deck. she didn't even entertain the idea when bradley approached her about it.

"i'm not a girl's girl," she mumbled to him while you exchanged an eyeroll with coyote, able to hear their whole conversation thanks to her inability to whisper. "i've never been good at that. i'm better with guys."

"not likely," phoenix muttered to you with a roll of her eyes. "hypocrite."

"well, she's not necessarily girly either, hun," rooster told her, brows furrowed. "she is military."

"which isn't my cup of tea either. but, it's alright! i'll just stay with you and the boys," she answered, hands coming up to hang off his shoulder. her eyes were trained on you as you turned back to your game with hangman, scoffing under your breath.

"alright baby," rooster relented, eyes on your back with a knit in his brow.

"i'm trying here," you muttered to the man next to you as you leaned down to take your next shot. jake shrugged.

"can't help who she likes as friends."

"wish i could help who she likes romantically."

"what do you mean by that, min?" a smirk was already growing on his lips and you groaned.

"oh, don't start. everyone knows it," you said, moving around the table for the best angle.

"yeah, but you've never admitted it," he teased, following you. "do you like rooster?"

"he's right there, dickhead, go and say it louder," you said with a quick glare, shooting your last ball into the pocket.

"what'd you say, minnie?" rooster asked, eyes on you and jake both intently.

"nothing, just trash-talking hangman here," you answered, standing and clapping a hand on said man's shoulder. you smiled at jake. "he's about to get his ass beat."

you lined the cue ball up with the 8 ball, counting to three in your mind before you shot, the two balls clicking together and the 8 ball landing in the corner like you predicted.

"ha!" you exclaimed, turning to him. "loser!"

"you didn't call it," he hummed, a wicked grin on his lips. "scratch! i won!"

"what? no!" you cried.

"oh yes, princess," he laughed.

"you could tell what i was going for," you argued.

"oh could i?" he teased with a wiggle of his brows.

you scoffed, but couldn't help the laugh that escaped your mouth as he did a stupid 80s-like victory dance, phoenix leaning into you to mumble teases about the man.

from behind you, bradley's face had settled into a scowl.

"minnie," he called. "you and me."

your eyebrows shot up and a smirk lifted one side of your mouth. "oh really, roo? you wanna take me on?"

gabbie looked taken aback that he'd offered to play you.

"she just played. how 'bout you play coyote here?" she asked, looking at javi with a smile.

"nah, i'll give y/n another chance to win," he answered, his eyes not leaving you as you faced him with a smile.

"game on, chicken," you told him with a grin, moving to rack the balls.

he helped you, your hands brushing as you placed them into the triangular rack. your eyes found each other, a subtle smile on your lips as you placed the 8 ball in the center.

"all you mousey," he told you.

"you know, maybe i will take you up on your offer," gabbie chimed in, catching your attention. "let's do something."

"alright," you said slowly, nodding at her. "we'll figure it out later."

"no, let's go get a drink and talk," she replied.

"i'm playing bradley right now. later," you insisted. she seemed to harden at your use of his proper name and she approached where you stood next to rooster. she grabbed your forearm gently, tugging you towards the bar.

"phoenix will take your place. come on!" she said with fake enthusiasm. everyone could tell it was just that and you were left stumbling after her with knitted brows.

"no gabbie, we're playing," rooster told her, taking a hold of your other arm and tugging you back to him. she turned to him with a sharp look in her eye and you hated where you were standing at that moment.

"she wanted girl time, bradley, so i'm giving her girl time," she told him. she turned her attention to you, a sweet sweet smile shot in your direction. "maybe i can give you makeup advice?"

"okay, no," you laughed dryly, ripping you arm from her grasp easily. "i'm good, thank you. i don't need your makeup advice."

"oh, honey, you do," she cooed condescendingly. "i think the boys would agree."

"you're being rude and i'd like you to leave," you said calmly. you looked at rooster. "can you take her home, please?"

he looked conflicted, glancing at you and then gabbie.

"i don't need to go home," she told you.

"oh, so you're gonna play nice?" you asked, raising your brows.

"i will when you do," she answered, glaring openly at you now. you breathed an incredulous laugh, glancing back at phoenix with wide eyes before returning your attention to her.

"what the hell does that mean? i've been trying to be friends with you, lady!"

"oh yeah, just so you can cozy up next to bradley a second later," she said, her glare deepening as she gestured to his hand on your wrist.

"the hell are you saying?" you asked. "i've known him my whole life, forgive me for trying to maintain a friendship."

"no," she shot back. "because you're not just maintaining it."

"yeah, it's flourishing under your watch," you spat sarcastically. you shook your head, glancing back at bradley for a moment before pulling your arm from him and stepping back. you held your hands up in faux defense, scoffing as you stepped towards the door. "sorry brad, i'm not allowed to talk to you anymore."

"no, y/n, stop," he said quickly, shaking his head and sighing. "gabbie, stop saying stuff like that."

"it's true! she's making moves on you bradley," gabbie insisted.

the daggers were not amused, watching as you rolled your eyes and waiting for what bradley would do in respone.

"she's not," he said.

"but if i was?"

that was a question that caught him off guard. he looked at you, his mouth falling open and brows furrowing as he struggled for a response.

"i - what?"

you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest before looking at him with complete seriousness and honesty. "look, she's not the girl for you bradley. i think you've figured that out by now. the rest of us sure as hell have."

"what are you saying?"

"i'm here," you said with a shrug, taking another step back towards the door. "i've always been here. do with that what you will."

gabbie was awestruck, watching you with wide eyes as you strutted out of the bar.

"bradley-"

"gabbie, i can't do this anymore," he said, eyes flashing to her as soon as you left his view. "she's right. you're not the girl for me and i'm not the guy for you. you'll find him, i know you will."

"what? what the hell are you-"

"and now i've gotta go get mine," he said, offering her a small, apologetic smile before running through the bar, dodging customers and slipping out the door after you.

"about time," coyote laughed, leaning back to sip on his beer.

"oh, screw all of you," gabbie spat. "i thought we were getting along, but i guess not."

"cheers to that!" jake said, clinking his bottle with phoenix's as she glared, leaving the room quickly.

bradley chased after you, desperation in his voice as he called, "y/n! y/n!"

you turned, a subtle smile on your lips as you peered at him. "yeah?"

"i want you," he said, grabbing your hands with a wide smile. "i want you forever. i want you to always be here and i want to always be here for you and i'm sorry that i wasn't, but i promise i will be."

"just kiss me, bradshaw," you told him, a grin overtaking his lips as he pulled you into him, his hands cupping your jaw as he pressed his lips to yours.

the kiss wasn't without passion, the both of you having been waiting for this moment for who knows how many years. your arms were wound tightly around his neck as you pulled away for air. you both had stupid grins on your faces, just watching each other.

"thanks," you breathed out dopily.

"anytime," he answered. he leaned closer to you, smirking slightly. "all the time."

he kissed you again, you smiling as you kissed him back.

"fuck yeah!"

you pulled back quickly to see phoenix and the daggers on the front porch, watching with knowing grins.

"we've been waiting for this!" coyote whooped.

you rolled your eyes and laughed at your friends before looking bradley back in his beautiful browns. "i have been too."

[thevoidstaredback]

Hey! So, it's been a while, but I finally remembered to come back to this! But, it's not gonna go the way you'd think.

If Danny had it his way, he'd be at his Aunt Alicia's house for the summer instead of New Jersey. This place is gloomy, grimy, and soaked through with so much crime that it's a Problem(TM). Like, seriously? New Jersey hasn't allowed the death penalty since he was seven, but can't they make, like, one exception? Get rid of The Joker and half of Gotham's problems are solved.

Unfortunately, he's only here as a guest, so he can't really do anything. Which, for the record, is a shit rule. Call a goose and goose, and that's exactly what Gotham City, New Jersey is.

It isn't all that bad, he supposes. Sure, the pollution blocks out the entire sky at all times, the buildings that aren't condemned are only feeding the rich while stealing from the poor, an entire twenty-four block are has been given up on by mostly everyone, the local vigilantes won't kill the recurring problems like the cockroaches they are- There was a good point to all this.

Oh! He has family here. That's it. That's the only silver lining, and it's bronze.

But, hey, it can't be that bad. From what he understands, his half-brother and company don't actually live in Gotham. Bristol, according to Talia is technically outside of Gotham City Limits, but is still considered as part of the city. Makes sense, aside from the fact that there's no bridge between Bristol and Gotham. Weird design, but he's not rich so he's not really inclined to care or understand.

Half brother, right.

Danny doesn't like Damian much, but that's because he's a clone...of Damian. Danny's a clone of Damian, not the other way around. Ra's makes that very clear

The only reason Talia wants him with Damian is because she's upset with Bruce Wayne. What is it with divorced parents and putting their kids on the middle of their fights? Or maybe that's just Talia?

Anyway.

Gotham, New Jersey is a dismal place. Danny's not germophobic by any means, he can't really afford to be, but even he's having a hard time being in the city.

It was so much easier hiding out with the Fentons.

Well, 'hiding' is a subjective term. Ra's and Talia knew where he was, so did Deathstroke, probably, but that was it.

Essentially, everyone he should be hiding from knows where he's been hiding, which means he's just been on some kind of twisted, extended vacation.

As far as Danny knew, Bruce Wayne had no idea he was coming. Damian knew because Talia had wanted him to pick Danny up from the airport. Weird because while Damian is technically older, Danny is still legally two years older.

Well, 'legally' is a stretch. He doesn't technically exist, outside of the LoA and Amity Park.

The point is that Damian is waiting for him at the end of the terminal, looking as much like an excited puppy as he can, with an older gentleman. Talia had given him nothing to work with, but Danny didn't really care who this guy was as long as he didn't try to make him do anything he didn't want to.

...living in the Midwest was doing wonders for his mental stability, but Ancients was it making him soft!

"'Danny', I presume?" the old man asked, his accent heavy.

Good, so Talia did give Damian his actual name. "Yep. You are?" He may not want to be here, but he still knows his manners. Even if he's only going to use the bare minimum of them. Malicious Compliance and all that.

"Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler." He didn't extend his hand to shake. Danny didn't mind. In fact, he actually preferred that.

Okay, so maybe he's a little bit haphephobic. Leave him alone!

"Danny," Damian greeted, a smile of excitement in his voice but not his face, "It's good to have you here. How did Mother convince you to come?"

"Bribery." Mostly.

Damian seemed to deflate a bit. "Father and the others don't know you're here."

"Do they even know about me at all?"

"No."

"Perfect! Then I can stay at a hotel-"

"For the entire summer?" Alfred raised his eyebrow, "I must insist that you stay at Wayne Manor while in Gotham. Master Bruce will most pleased to meet you."

"Why?" Danny scoffed, "I'm not his kid, nor do I want to be."

Damian slouched a little bit more. "Come, we must get back before the others send out a search party for us."

"Dramatic much?" Danny scoffed.

"Not at all," Alfred took both of Danny's bags before leading the way out to the car, "It' happened before in less time."

"I don't doubt it for a second. I'm calling Bruce a dramatic bitch."

Alfred smirked ever so slightly. "Quite right, Master Danny."

"Don't call me that."

"Alright then, what should I call you?"

"'Danny'. No honorifics, no add ons, no trying to fullname me, nothing else."

"And when you go out with the rest of the family?"

He scoffed again. "You really think they'd let me go out with them? I'm an assassin. In fact, the first thing I'll do the second I'm let out of the house is kill the clown bastard."

Damian rested his hand on Danny's arm. "They let me out with them and I tried to kill Drake. As long as you uphold a promise not to kill anyone, you'll be allowed to patrol with us."

They reached the car, Damian sat behind the driver while Danny sat behind the passenger. Alfred put the bags in the trunk. "So? What will you be called on patrol?"

Danny rolled his eyes, popping his headphones in and not looking away from the window. "Respawn."

Storyboard

[toxictigertonic]

hopes you don't mind be asked about headcanons!! but I adore how you write them!! What about Prime Assets and hugs? How huggable they are from 0 to 10? Would they hug each other?

Ohhh this one has the potential to be so silly and yet so sad... All of them could use a good hug (I'm hugging Coyle to steal from his back pocket :) )

COYLE

- Starting out mediocre, Coyle ranks at a 4/10 on the hug scale.

- His hugs are so stiff and so awkward, it's like hugging a plank. You might also get zapped so watch out.

- You know those awkward dad hugs? The ones where it's just a side hug? He can barely even manage those.

- If you gave him a proper hug, he'd keep his hands out to the side, no contact. You'd think he'd get handsy but no, he's so confused by the hug he just freezes up.

- Please don't surprise him with a hug he will suplex you.

- Also he is Not Soft, and his leather jacket smells funny. Not funny haha, funny weird. Mostly like cigarettes and sadness.

- Definitely mumbling something weird during the hug that makes you reconsider your decisions. Not weird enough to pull away but enough to make you think "damn was this really a good idea"

- Take this hug opportunity to fuck with his battery, he's too caught up in how awkward this is to notice. Steal his wallet too, for funsies.

- Would have a hard time chasing you after you hugged him. Not because he's developed some sudden emotional connection but bc that was Weird and he now dreads looking you in the eyes.

MOTHER GOOSEBERRY

- 15/10 for hugs, the most comforting hug you will ever receive in your entire life. If you consider Futterman's presence however it drops down to a 9/10.

- Futterman threatens you about 5 seconds into the hug, if you try anything funny you're getting drill to the face. This is why he affects the score so much.

- There's also the chance that he's going to whisper a question about your dental hygiene, and God help you if you answer no to flossing.

- Ignoring the goose demon, hugging her is sooo nice. She's warm and soft and bc she's so tall anyone who's short is getting surrounded by nice hug.

- She loves hugs, she loves to give and receive them. You can even potentially make her nonviolent for a minute or two if you offer a hug.

- Pray for your spine though bc she gives bear hugs. She will not hesitate to crush the life out of you with her squeezes.

- The kinda hugger that pets your head and calls you her sweet baby, or something like that. Again, most comforting hugs in the world.

- You can ask to hug Futterman but he'll just hiss at you. Man hates being hugged. Being involved in a hug is already bad enough.

- If you're small enough she will pick you up during a hug. She could very easily lift someone but if you're smaller she's more likely to think of you as a child.

FRANCO

- He's hard to rank bc how do you rank someone who either tries to kill you or cries when you hug them. I'm gonna give him a 6 or 7/10 because the hug itself isn't too bad if he doesn't go for violence.

- The violent reaction is mainly bc he's not used to anybody being kind to him. Most times he's had human contact it's been to hurt him.

- That's also why he cries. He's so unbelievably touch starved that an innocent hug can send him spiraling.

- You better hug him while he cries. He might track you down afterwards if you don't, nobody can know he cried like that. Also, you hurt his feelings :(

- If you DO continue to hug him, prepare to be crushed in his arms. He's shockingly strong, and he's clingy when he's upset.

- Also don't he surprised if he ends up in your lap tbh. You gave him the hug, you should've expected this to be how things would go. Man just wants some comfort.

- He's gonna try to bury his face into your neck, even if you're a lot shorter than him. He'll hurt his back hunching over, he doesn't care.

- He is constantly in a state of not wanting to be touched but also desperately needing a hug. It's like dealing with a cat.

- If you pet his hair or say anything comforting he will cry so hard he throws up I do not make the rules.

GROUP HUGS

- BAD IDEA.

- Franco and Coyle would rather die than hug each other. Gooseberry is going to make them be friendly whether they like it or not.

- She makes them hug and they're just whispering threats to each other.

- "Putting you in prison will be the nicest thing I do to you." "Good luck putting me in prison with a fuckin' incisor lodged in your shin."

- Gooseberry picks Coyle up when she hugs him and he freaks out. He doesn't know what to do so all he can do is Flail.

- On one hand, he's attracted to her. On the other hand, keep your hugs to yourself, woman!

- You know damn well Franco is requesting hugs from Gooseberry every single day.

- He is just a sad little boy and he needs a comforting hug from her. This is how he convinces her to hug him every single time (not like he has to do much convincing, she loves hugs).

- Futterman wants to turn him into a fine paste. He knows what that little shit is up to and he's not having it. Leave his daughter ALONE.

- He's stopped full-on crying after getting so many hugs from her, but he still gets a little teary-eyed. Especially when the head petting comes into play.

Ask me as much as you want! I will happily take 18 requests from the same person, I do not mind!!

[prophecyofwinter]

Across the Sea and to the East

Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: Under your uncle’s usurpation of your brother you have been sent away to hide in Lys under House Rogare. You’ve found new purpose with the Lord of Light but you will be called home soon.

Tags: slight slow burn, actual burning, violence, smut, angst, Aegon is his own warning, tags will be added as we go.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 (Prologue)

Chapter 2: Aegon the Ever Persistent

“Queen Alicent, may I borrow your ear for a moment?”

Larys Strong spoke up to Alicent when she entered her own chambers to find him there by himself. Rather a disturbed one he is.

Alicent looks around slightly perturbed but approaches nonetheless, taking the seat across from him and taking a deep breath before speaking.

“What is so important that it could not wait until tomorrow?”

“You had told me many many moons ago that if anything about Lady Y/N’s Death made its way through to come to you immediately, so here I am.”

Seven years ago Alicent had to inform young Aemond of Lady Y/N’s passing and he was inconsolable for days until he heard of her funeral and ran away on Vhagar to witness it himself.

When Aemond arrived back he was beyond bewildered, Alicent didn’t even have time to yell at Aemond before he said.

“He did something to them…”

Your uncle had attempted to prevent him from even peeking at your burial, telling him to go home before he gets Winterfell in trouble for housing a runaway Prince. With his little boy strength he pushed through your uncle and his sons to see, nothing, there was nothing in the casket. Any Targaryen-born person would know well enough that even bones would still remain after a little fire like that.

He had been rushed away and all but kicked out of Winterfell.

He begged his Mother to punish your uncle for it must’ve been his fault. She told him she couldn’t do anything as there was no proof he had done anything to you or Cregan.

Alicent mentioned to Larys in passing to tell her if anything regarding you was mentioned through his web of spies.

7 years later, she’d honestly mostly forgotten about that interaction.

“…What is it?”

“House Glover has personally sent two Direwolf pups to Lys for House Rogare.”

“So? Lysandro probably got the taste for exotic pets, or one of his children wanted a dog.”

“Don’t you find it, a small coincidence that Lysandro Rogare adopts a child slightly after the ‘death’ of Lady Y/N? And coincidentally receives two Direwolf pups from Y/N’s mothers house? House Rogare has been wanting to stick their hand in Westerosi politics for years before this.”

“I suppose, but, what do I do with this? I can’t tell Aemond. He’ll run off to Lys like he ran off to Winterfell.”

“It is no matter to me, I simply told what you wanted me to tell. And do not worry, this information is free.”

Larys takes his leave and slowly makes his way out of Alicents chambers leaving her to dwell with this knowledge.

Alicent takes a deep breath to think, closing her eyes and restarting her old habit of picking at her skin, but as a Queen, a Wife, and a Mother. There truly is no real rest.

“Aemond will be thrilled to know won’t he? Let me tell him.”

A joking voice comes from the chair in front of the lit fire, Aegon. That little shit.

“What are you doing here?! Do I get no privacy even in my own chambers?!”

“Whattt, I like coming into your chambers. I like the ambiance, Mother. You know what, I’ll go tell Aemond right now. He should be at the training grounds at this time-“

Aegon was cut off by a cut through the air with a slap. Alicent has stricken her eldest once again, oh how he drives her there so fast. She tries to keep the peace between her children, yet Aegon is always stirring the pot.

“You will not be telling Aemond of any such thing! You will not have him on a wild goose chase after a dead girl! Do not give him hope! You have tormented your brother enough! And for Sevens sake get the hells out of my chambers Aegon!”

For the one time in moons Aegon is sober for an hour, it's when Alicent needs him to be drowned in his sorrows.

Aegon puts his hand on his burning cheek and turns with his tail between his legs to no doubt run to the taverns and whore houses.

Though Aegon always has had a loud mouth, especially when drunk.

—————————

Aemond attempts to sit in peace and quiet as the storm outside rages on. Rain tends to make his eyeless-socket ache, so he blows out all the candles and lays back to let the pain take its course for the night. If no one else bothers him for the rest of the night-

“Aemondddddddddddd!!!!!!”

Maybe if he pretends that he isn’t in his chambers-

“Aemondddddd I know you’re in thereeeeee!!!!!!!! It’s your big brotherrrrrrr!!!!!!!!”

Aegon the ever persistent is what they’d call him if he was King…

Aemond sighed and put his eyepatch on but left his sapphire to soak in a goblet of water. Sometimes he could out wait Aegon if he was drunk enough but the night is still young…

Aemond opens his chamber doors and instantly moves out of the way to let Aegon fall onto the floor in the doorway. Aegon climbs to his feet stumbling here and there but making it to Aemonds chair.

“What do you want brother?”

“I have a little tiny little- um secret from mother, but!- you can’t tell Aemond because mother told me not to tell Aemond so you can’t tell Aemond or mother will get mad at you for telling Aemond, alright Aemond?!”

What in the seven hells is wrong with this boy? Aemond did not like not knowing things, and it would not be his fault for letting Aegon ramble on…

“Alright, I promise not to tell Aemond anything.”

“Great! I would have dieddddddd without telling someone this! I-I overheard mother talking to Larys about that little Stark girl you fancied when we were kids. He told herrrrr that she might still be alive in, get this! Lys with House Rogare! Can you believe that?! Bet she’s a real beauty now… yes…”

Aemond felt his blood rush cold and his body couldn’t move, not once in his life had he been unable to think, unable to speak…

“Aemond? Where did you go? Are you even listen-“

Aemond couldn’t bear to hear Aegon speak another fucking word, he grabbed the elder boy by the face to shut him the hells up.

“Are you sure that’s what you heard Aegon? Are you so certain you’d bet your life that she’s alive?!”

“Well thatsssss a bit of a stretch for a girl that I do not care for but…”

Gods he is fucking insufferable, but if that meant Y/N was alive… he would bear through his drunken rambles… His mother wanted to keep this from him?

“Why did mother keep this from me- I mean Aemond.”

“Well- you know how Aemond got when her Uncle buried her, he ran away and got his arse locked out of W-Winterfell…”

“Ae- Aegon!”

Aegon started falling asleep in Aemonds chair, once he fell asleep it was near impossible to wake him up. Aemond didn’t want his drunken brother throwing up on his floors.

“I’m up! Well, look at the moon, the night is still young I have to get back out, whores won’t fuck themselves. I have to pay them to do that.”

Aegon hoists himself out of the chair, surprisingly keeping his balance and giving Aemond a big pat on the chest. Not before taking a big gulp of the goblet where Aemond soaks his eye-sapphire in.

“Disgusting, your Wine tastes like water… Where did you get ice at this time of year?”

As quick as he comes he’s gone again. Leaving Aemond baffled and dumbfounded but with a new sense of purpose nonetheless.

If you were in Lys, he has to know, he must know, if it’s the last thing he ever does.

[jomiddlemarch]

For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought

“You’ll be late for practice, Blythe,” Charlie said, once again using Gil’s surname as if they hadn’t known each other since their mothers had had them in lace-trimmed dresses. Gilbert scowled, partly at Charlie’s attempt at bluff heartiness, but mostly at the lines in front of him, which wouldn’t scan. Or rhyme. Or behave in any way as a sonnet should, which Gilbert, who genuinely enjoyed reading Spenser and Donne as much as attending biology lecture, knew well enough.

As Anne would know even better.

Queen Anne, his own Faerie Queene, with her glorious bright hair and her shining eyes, her delicate eyebrows drawn across her fair skin like chalk—

Like chalk. It was drivel. Worse than drivel—senseless and thumping and everything Anne was not. He slashed through the words instead of crumpling up the paper and throwing it aside. He’d wasted too much already, his mother would frown most decidedly and then snort if he admitted what he’d been doing, reminding him the stable could use a good mucking out if he wanted much to do with manure.

Charlie was likely to snort as well, unless he was still doing the Redmond act he’d whipped up after the first fortnight away from Avonlea, right around the time he started growing a mustache and using slang with an affected nonchalance.

The mustache was more convincing.

“We have a little time left,” Gilbert said. Perhaps the answer was to drop the reference to her eyebrows. Nothing rhymed with eyebrows, unless he picked the singular and then used “highbrow,” but Anne would laugh and then offer to never speak of the sonnet to anyone, not even Diana, whom Gilbert was fairly certain would give him credit simply for attempting to write a poem for Anne, rather than the actual product.

Your eyes my North Star, he wrote, then lifted the pen. There was something there, but how her two eyes equaled one North Star was an offense to astronomy as well as being markedly short on iambs and dactyls. 

At the very least, his growing frustration might be useful on the practice field, where the coach often complained Blythe was too careful of his fellows and wouldn’t be prepared when it came time to challenge an opposing team. Charlie leaned in, peered over and managed to read a little before Gil pulled the page back.

“You don’t forget mine own wingéd creature nearly brained you for pointing out she was a redhead,” Charlie remarked.

“She still is,” Gilbert said. “And she didn’t nearly brain me. I had a worse goose-egg from that time Moody chucked a ball at me after Sunday School—”

“She did break her slate,” Charlie said. “Anne of the wings and the whatchamacallit, gleaming albatross—”

“Alabaster, you dunderhead!”

“She had quite an arm on her, we all thought she’d take your head off,” Charlie said. 

“I know. I was there. I still liked her then and I do now,” Gil replied, letting his exasperation with his lack of poetic ability find a release in sniping at Charlie Sloane. Anyone in Avonlea would have understood the satisfaction therein, except maybe for Josie Pye at her Pye-est, as Anne would say. 

“Come on, leave it, go to practice with me and then to the pub,” Charlie said. “Your chicken-scratch epic on Anne Shirley’s orange symphony of tresses will be waiting and maybe you’ll have a better idea. In vino veritas, they say.”

“I’d have to be drunk to keep writing this,” Gilbert said.

“That’s the spirit, Blythe! Come to practice, get pleasantly addled with me, and then see what poetic flight of fancy a pint of ale makes possible.”

Years later, some golden afternoon at Ingleside when the children were all running about in Rainbow Valley and Anne was left to her own devices and a garden that required no deadheading, Gilbert returned home to find her at his desk in the library, squinting as she leafed through a collection of yellowing pages; she had finally embarked upon her long-awaited plan to organize their college memorabilia, which he knew was a polite way of saying clearing out some more space for the latest shipment of books Paul Irving was sending up from New York.

“Does this say ‘albatross,’ Gil?” she asked, her amusement only lightly mixed with the confusion engendered by his poor handwriting. She often said he could have no other career than medicine, given the hand he wrote and the physician’s reputation.

“Alabaster,” he said. “I was a poor enough poet, but I would never have compared you to an albatross.”

“It might have been an allusion to Coleridge,” she said.

“It wasn’t,” Gil replied.

“You poor dear darling man. Boy really, this was our first year at Redmond, yes?” she said, those grey eyes of hers bright, still his North Star though he’d never resolved the quantity issue to his satisfaction.

“Yes. But before you console me too generously, I’ll have you know someone else also thought it read albatross,” he said.

“Who?” she said, a puckish smile on her lips, one that would make Susan Baker shake her head at Mrs. Doctor’s incomprehensible ways and then serve even larger slices of her strawberry rhubarb pie to set the world straight.

“Charlie Sloane,” Gilbert said.

Anne burst out laughing and Gilbert joined her. When they’d both caught their breath, she spoke first.

“That’s me put in my place.”

“Not quite,” Gil replied. “You’re too far away—”

“Shall I fly to you then? For I am a wingéd creature,” she replied.

“You’re a belle dame sans mercy and well you know it, Anne-girl,” he said.

“I can be merciful,” she said. “I’ll show you. I’ll pack all these poetical endeavors away and I won’t show the children until we’re very old and very grey.”

@gilbertsmustache see what thou hast wrought! Or, be careful what you prompt for :)

[the-s1lly-corner]

Can,, can we have child!clown!reader making honking sounds at the circus members when they're really happy? They also do innocent pranks and and they are really silly and playful and so so small (smaller than Pomni herself perhaps?)

Caine, Jax and Ragatha w/ child!clown!reader who pulls innocent pranks! (platonic!)

not too into the mood to write today but i feel bad for leaving requests for a few days so imma (shuffles notes) rise and grind jumping onto my silly computer to get these written since its finally getting warmer in my house ehehehehe

CAINE:

i think he would take on a almost fatherly role for you; though hes not... okay well i was going to say hes not the best dad but that makes it sound like hes not a good one. hes definitely trying his best hes just a little chaotic and youre his first kid!!! probably encourages your pranks because it gives you something to do and you seem happy with it.. love when you honk, he likes to call you a goose/hj.. i think he might give you stuff to enhance your pranks and might even give you some ideas... though caines ideas can sometimes be a little complicated for your little brain... definitely would carry you around, usually flying or hovering from place to place

RAGATHA:

older sister/mother figure ragatha my beloved... i think depending on what kind of pranks you pull she either embraces it, since i doubt a little kid is like. dropping blocks of cement on people after propping the block on top of a door. truly innocent and playfully. visibly melts when you honk at her, she thinks its adorable. vaguely reminds her of how cats will chirp when they see their human coming home.. loves giving you little accessories for your clown outfit; bows, ribbons, pins, patches and so on! all hand made by her and personalized to your style! keeps a close eye on you to make sure youre okay, especially during an IHA... definitely holds your hand while walking you around to keep you from getting lost

JAX:

like caine i think he would encourage your pranks... just dont prank him. the whole "i like seeing funny things happen to people" but its only funny to him if its other people... you might develop a mischievous side from him... more of an older brother figure than a parental one, i think. sees you putting together a prank but he stops you mid way to give you something that would work better for the prank. kind of like the trope where a character gives an angry character a better weapon so they can go beat someone up except here its mostly innocent and theres no intention to hurt anyone and its about prank stuff... you kind of follow him around like a baby duck, very cute but hes trying to pretend hes not melting inside

[laurasimonsdaughter]

What are your thoughts on "The Young Slave" from The Pentamerone?

Ah, the same way I feel about most stories from the Pentamerone: very grateful that we still have it, as a part of fairy tale history, without exactly liking it.

The Pentamerone (by Giambattista Basile, published posthumously in 1634/1636) is an incredibly important collection, but the tales are rather brutal. "The Young Slave" is no different. Basile's collection of Neapolitan fairy tales contains the oldest known literary version of many very well-known fairy tales. In the case of "The Young Slave" the story of Snow White. While it also contains elements that are more well-known for showing up in different fairy tales. For example:

• The beautiful protagonist, Lisa, was born because her mother swallowed a rose petal. This motif shows up in various Spanish, Portugese and Scandinavian folktales.

• Lisa is blessed by two fairies and cursed by a third to die prematurely, similar to Sleeping Beauty. (Though the fairy is not an unwanted guest, or inherently evil, she speaks in anger because she twists her ankle.)

• Because of the curse Lisa gets a comb stuck in her hair, which poisons her, and is put in seven crystal coffins and hidden away. While there is no evil queen, this does have similarities with Snow White.

• Lisa's mother firbids her brother, the baron, to open the room with the coffin and dies. Years later his wife discovers the coffin, however, and Lisa has by then aged into a beautiful young woman. The jealous woman drags her out by her hair, knocking the comb loose and waking her up. This reminds me more of Gold Tree and Silver Tree which is itself often named as a Snow White variant.

• Lisa's jealous aunt now takes the role of evil stepmother, dresses and treats her as a slave and abuses her. Much like various versions of Snow White.

• One day the baron goes to a country fair and asks everyone his household what thing they would like him to bring for them, even the slave girl, despite his wife's anger. Lisa asks for a doll, a knife, and some pumice-stone, and adds that if he forgets to bring them, he will not be able to cross the river. This reminds me of some versions of Beauty and the Beast and Russian tales like Finist the Falcon, where a merchant father brings the youngest daughter an inexpensive but very significant gift.

• Lisa can make the doll talk to her by threatening self harm and tells it her sad life story. (I mostly know magical dolls from Slavic and Chinese fairy tales, but that might be lack of further reading on my part). The baron overhears her talking and realises what his wife has done. The motif of telling your misfortune to an object and being overheard shows up in tales like the Goose Girl, The Ghoulish Schoolmaster and the Stone of Pity, and more notably The Maiden with the Rose on her Forehead (which is likely a more direct descendant of The Young Slave than Snow White is.)

• The baron sends Lisa to relatives to recover and then invites her back home for a splendid banquet, where she tells everyone how she was treated by the baroness. The baron banishes his wife (which is surprisingly merciful) and finds a worthy husband for Lisa whom she loves. This big reveal at a banquet shows up in various stories, like true bride/forsaken fiancée stories, or variations on The Cruel Sister.

To me the most interesting element of this story, apart from it's very different beginning, is that Lisa's uncle is so instrumental, while her future husband is only mentioned in the very last line. In most folktales with an abusive wife, the husband is notably bad at doing anyting about her cruelty. So this makes a nice change!

[prof-ramses]

Golden Goose (Mammon x Stella) Headcanons

You can see my first batch of thoughts for these two here.

This particular batch is quite general and will have some family stuff and how the relationship effects those around the lovely couple.

Mammon is, ironically, more of a night owl than Stella and she often falls asleep first.

Before they got together, Mam would usually sleep with a large pillow in his arms for slight emotional comfort. Stella's presence comforts him far more, calling back to the last one, though it still takes him a bit to nod off it's still quicker than before.

Mam always brags about Stella to the other Sins, especially Ozzie. Even her smallest achievement is something Mammon cherishes as much as possible.

Speaking of Ozzie, the first time he talked to Mammon after he started dating Stella, he made a crack at Mammon going blind to a gold-digger over her own "assets". Before he could properly register it, Mam had him pinned to the floor with a hand tightening around his neck, Ozz immediately took his joke back. It was then that he realized that the seemingly impossible happened, Mammon was in a loving relationship.

Expanding on the concept of Stella sating her curiosity about "peasant" things, she tries to play a fighting game with Via and struggles. Via tells her not to worry about it, but the lose activates Stella's competitive nature and she starts practicing in her free time (Something Mammon makes sure she has plenty of) . She absolutely demolishes both Mam and Via at the next family game night. And that was how Octavia learned how quick of a learner her mother is.

This one was originally an ask for @pinkandpurple360 but it seemingly went the way of HB's original premise: While he got to see Charlie grow up and now has a daughter in Octavia, Mammon wishes deep down that he could raise a child of his own blood. It's not that he doesn't love Charlie and Via, he just can't help but feel he's missing something he wants. He considers asking Stella about having another kid, but knows that she was forced to have Via. This makes him confront the dilemma of pursuing his wish or not reawakening the trauma of the woman he loves. This idea definitely deserves more exploration, maybe in a fic.

After Stella and Mammon get hitched, people returning their Robofizz becomes a far rarer phenomenon, mostly because word gets out that Via personally "deactivates" any returned or recalled Fizzbots, who start going above and beyond to please their owners to avoid the princess' coulrophobia-fueled fury.

[clatterbane]

While I am evidently on a ranting roll tonight, it also really fucking bothered me that the new endocrinologist that I happened to see for a routine yearly diabetes check-in a few weeks back, after the last one moved? She apparently decided that as essentially an ethnic minority of one here, I look weird enough that it might well be pathological.

(I would probably feel a little different about it if she weren't also from anothet ethnic minority--albeit one that is MUCH more common locally and in this country at large. It doesn't hit quite the same that way, but I still found it pretty damned offensive.)

It also didn't help that my basic build helped get me treated like garbage so much under the NHS--with definite racial undertones at times. I would just as soon never hear a single word about my meat form again, which is not very directly relevant to the issue I have come in over, and in a non-fatphobic way.

But yeah, I have ended up looking like a lot of my mother's family in middle age. If one of the thinner versions these days.

Shitty crop of me with my mom, 20 years and at least 50 lbs. ago.

We have big kinda flat faces with barrel chests and big shoulders--and our arms and legs also turn skinnier-looking by comparison to the big old torso as we get older. No matter how much meat is over it (and I am still fairly scrawny now!), you are still gonna be mostly shoulders and a ribcage which is NOT dainty. Mr. C half-laughingly backed me up that half my family is just Like This, and he hasn't even seen all the extended clan together.

And the (very) extended family resemblance kinda goes farther than that. (Thus the ethnic part being very fucking relevant.) I don't always necessarily like it, but that's just how we're made.

So yeah, that new endo decided to send me to be tested for Cushing's Syndrome, entirely based on eyeballing.

Look, it's me! Go off, I guess.

(She also asked some pointed questions like whether my freakishly skinny arms made it difficult to wheel myself around in the chair. Erm, NOPE, not at all. Absolutely no symptoms other than striking her as Wrong Looking. She also recorded in the notes which I can see online, that I was getting less exercise than I said I was--very possibly mentally filtering my actual answer through that Freakish Twig Limb perception.)

What gets me even worse is that I DO totally coincidentally have experience with Cushing's, from when I got that pituitary tumor in my teens. She knew nothing about this when she brought the subject up out of the blue.

As the first medical professional to ever do so over the past 30-odd years, I might add. Nobody who has actually been aware of that history has triggered on it either.

Cushing's is very noticeable and very hard to live with! I got extremely sick, gained like 80 lbs. over a year from it, and developed the actual corticosteroid moonface then! Nobody much wanted to listen to me at the time, likely mostly because AFAB teenager! But, I do know very well what that fucking feels like!

But yeah, that thankfully got fixed and I haven't experienced symptoms for like 30 years. That whole experience was also very freaking traumatic, which is probably not helping my reaction now with it getting brought back up so bizarrely and unexpectedly. (Also, could I somehow be secretly Very Sick now without realizing it?! I do very much rationally doubt it, but doubt still keeps nagging at me.)

I guess I had better play along for now. In a way, it is good to see another demonstration that they don't seem to do the same kind of foolish pennypinching here as under the NHS. They will refer you for whatever testing they think is necessary, even if that sometimes includes a labwork wild goose chase based on some terrible assumptions! I would rather have them be thorough, even when it's dumb as hell and kinda insulting.

I am indeed pretty confident that I just look like a middle-aged $SURNAME from another freaking continent, who is also recovering from malnutrition and still pretty scrawny. (Which the doc was aware of.) I am also still feeling some kind of way about this fact setting off weird alarm bells in some new doctor that I am stuck dealing with for the foreseeable future.

I could easily make some of my own unflattering speculations based on her appearance, which was very different from my own. Sorta Marfanoid, with buggy eyes possibly indicating thyroid issues? (Maybe there's also some wider ethnic thing going on there too, for all I know. I have seen a lot more folks from her part of the world than basically anyone here has from mine!)

But yeah, that really really would not go over too well. And it's not my place either.

[bradshawsbaby]

A Special Visit

Pairing(s): Rooster x Future Wife!Reader, mentions of Goose x Carole

Author’s Note: I’ve been meaning to write this story for a while! It’s about the first time Bradley ever took the future Mrs. Bradshaw to visit the cemetery where Goose and Carole are buried.

Warnings: Some mild angst and mentions of grief/loss, but mostly lots of fluff.

You could feel your body slowly starting to rouse itself with those hints of early morning consciousness, hanging in that strange limbo between slumber and wakefulness, but you were determined not to open your eyes just yet. Instead, you tucked your chin inside your sweatshirt—or rather, your boyfriend’s sweatshirt—and burrowed yourself deeper underneath the covers, feeling your thigh brush against the solid, muscular form lying beside you. You couldn’t help but smile as you felt the warmth emanating from him, immediately chasing away any chill that had managed to cling to your skin in the early light of dawn.

Eyes still closed, your other senses were heightened as the stirrings of a new day began invading the small bedroom where you and Bradley were currently ensconced. You could hear the sounds of birds calling to one another and squirrels chattering as they scampered around the tree just beyond the back porch. You could feel the cool breeze wafting in through the window you’d left open just a smidge before going to sleep last night, and smell the crisp, fresh scent of autumn as it swirled over your cozy little hideaway. Snuggling closer to your boyfriend’s side, you could even still taste his kiss from the night before, sweeter than honey and more delicious than any five-star dinner.

At the sensation of Bradley’s breath on your cheek, your eyes finally started to flutter open and your heart immediately came stuttering to a halt at the sight you were met with.

Bradley Bradshaw really was the most breathtaking man you had ever known.

Even in the throes of a deep sleep, you had never seen a man more handsome or more capable of turning your brain to mush. His sandy brown hair was mussed and knotted, sticking up at wild angles that almost made you giggle except for the fact that you didn’t want to wake him. His dark eyelashes were kissing ruddy cheeks that looked flushed and warm from a night spent huddling under two blankets in a worn hoodie and sweatpants. And his lips, those lips that were so soft and tender when they brushed against yours or whispered sweet words of love in your ear, were parted slightly, the sounds of his heavy breathing a sign to you that he was still very much asleep.

God, you loved him so much.

Reaching out with a gentle hand, you brushed your fingertips delicately across his cheek, absorbing the heat that seemed to flow from him in waves. You knew he was exhausted. These past couple days had been meaningful for the both of you, but you also knew that they had been emotionally draining for him as well. And today would be the toughest day of all.

You and Bradley had arrived in Virginia just two days earlier, though it felt longer for all you had already managed to accomplish during your short trip here. After over eight months of dating, it was the first time you were getting to see Bradley’s hometown, the place where he had grown up and been shaped into the man he was today.

He didn’t have much family left in the area, he had explained to you before you arrived. Just a few aunts and uncles and a couple cousins. He had never had a very large extended family to begin with, and many of them had since moved out of state. But this was where he had been born, where his parents had tried to put down roots and where his mother had raised him. It was the place where his parents were buried. And so it would always be home.

The two of you were staying at the home of Bradley’s Aunt Betty, Carole’s older sister who didn’t share much in common with her vivacious younger sister except for her eyes and her smile. She was a kind woman who had graciously opened up her home to you and made you feel quickly at ease. As a nurse, she worked long shifts at the local hospital, but it had been nice getting to spend time with her and to hear stories about Bradley’s mother when she was a little girl. You knew it meant a lot to Bradley, too.

Besides meeting Bradley’s family members, he also took you on a full tour of the town, showing you all his favorite places, including the baseball field where he’d played all the way through high school and the diner where he and his mom used to go get breakfast every Sunday. Seeing the joy on his face as he’d shared stories from his childhood, eyes sparking with memories as he gazed upon the sites that had been the center of his world while he was growing up, filled your heart with such love for him that you thought it might overflow or actually stop beating altogether. It didn’t seem possible that a heart could contain so much feeling without simply ceasing to function.

There was one place Bradley hadn’t yet taken you though.

The cemetery.

You knew he wanted to. It was the main reason you were here in Virginia.

“I want you to meet my parents,” he’d told you seriously, when he first proposed the trip. “You know, if that’s not weird for you,” he’d quickly amended, the tips of his ears turning pink as he averted his gaze in shy embarrassment.

“Of course not,” you’d assured him, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing his arm comfortingly. The truth was, you’d never been so touched by an invitation. “I want to meet your parents, too.”

Today was your last day here, so you knew it had to be today. But you had a feeling that Bradley was anxious about it, so you wanted him to get as much rest as he needed. Leaning over in bed, you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead before silently slipping out from underneath the covers, tucking them around his still body and carefully tiptoeing out of the bedroom.

Aunt Betty had mentioned the evening before that she was working an early shift at the hospital today, so you knew she was already gone as you made your way to the bathroom for a quick shower. You dressed with care, choosing a pair of jeans and a flattering sweater that you knew would keep you warm in the chill November air. Once your hair and make-up were done, you took a step back to critically examine yourself in the mirror. You’d met boyfriends’ parents in the past, but nothing felt as momentous as this. Even though you knew you wouldn’t actually be getting to “meet” Goose and Carole, the need to make a good impression hung urgently in the air all the same. As anxious as you knew Bradley was feeling, you were feeling rather nervous yourself.

Walking into the kitchen, you scribbled a quick note to Bradley, letting him know that you were going to run a couple errands and that you would be back soon, just in case he awoke before you returned.

Just as you were walking out to the car you and Bradley had rented, your phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming text message.

How’s it going?

It was Maverick. You smiled, grateful for what a dear friend Bradley’s godfather had become to you in the months that you had known him.

Really well! I think Bradley’s happy to be here.

Has he taken you to Rosewood yet?

Maverick knew better than anyone the main reason why you and Bradley were here. He and Bradley both tried to visit Goose and Carole as often as possible, and it had been a while since either of them had been able to get here.

We’re going today. Bradley’s still sleeping. I think both of us are a little nervous.

They would love you.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes at Mav’s message, knowing how heartfelt it was and how much it meant coming from him.

Thank you, Mav ❤️

Talk to you soon, kid.

Putting your phone away, you jumped in the car, wanting to get through these errands as quickly as possible so that you could get back to Bradley.

When you returned back to the house a half an hour later, dropping the car keys on the kitchen counter, you could hear movement in the bedroom.

“Honey? Is that you?” Bradley called out, the sound of a door opening down the hallway followed by the patter of footsteps on the carpeted floor.

“Mhm,” you called back, setting the tray you were holding down on the table. “I went to grab coffee from the diner,” you explained, smiling when you suddenly felt a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist. “Good morning,” you greeted him, your cheeks flushing pleasantly when he pressed soft kisses to your neck.

“Good morning,” Bradley murmured, his voice still thick with sleepiness despite the fact that he had clearly showered and gotten himself dressed for the day. “Thank you for the coffee,” he added, nuzzling your cheek affectionately as he reached to grab the cup that was marked Black.

Stepping back for a moment, he looked you up and down appreciatively, his free hand resting on your waist. “You look beautiful, honey,” he told you, his eyes warm as he took a sip of his coffee.

You flushed happily at the compliment, glancing down at the outfit you had carefully selected. “You think it’s alright?” you asked self-consciously. “I have another sweater I could—”

Bradley cut you off with a kiss, his lips tasting strongly of dark roast coffee. “It’s perfect,” he assured you, brushing a loose lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re perfect.”

You smiled, resting your hand over his. “I know how important today is for you,” you said softly, gazing up at him. “I want you to know it’s important for me, too.”

Setting down his coffee cup, Bradley swallowed deeply, suddenly looking a bit overcome. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close and not saying anything for several minutes. You just wrapped your arms around him and let him sway gently, rocking back and forth.

“I’ve never wanted to bring anyone with me to see my parents,” Bradley admitted hoarsely, reaching up to stroke your cheeks with his calloused thumbs. “I’ve always gone to see them by myself. You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to take with me. I’m so glad you’re here with me,” he whispered, burying his face in your hair and pulling you close to his chest.

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” you whispered in return, stroking his back soothingly.

The two of you stood like that, locked in each other’s arms, for a while before Bradley finally took a step back, clearing his throat. “I have a couple things to put in the car and then I’ll be ready to go, okay?” he asked, squeezing your hand in his.

You nodded, smiling. “Oh, baby? I picked something else up while I was getting the coffee,” you told him, walking over to the bag you’d left by the door when you’d returned to the house. “I hope it’s okay. I know you mentioned they were your mom’s favorite, and I wanted to have something to bring for her,” you explained, suddenly feeling a little nervous as you pulled out the small bouquet of red roses you had purchased at a florist’s shop on your way back to the house.

Bradley was quiet as he stared at the flowers in your hand, and for a moment you worried that you had overstepped. Maybe he’d already picked something up for his mom. Maybe the bouquet wasn’t big enough and he wanted to leave something nicer for his mother, but now he was going to feel forced to leave it because you had gone and picked it up without talking to him about it first. Maybe…

Your mind was in such turmoil that you didn’t even realize Bradley had moved until he was suddenly pulling the flowers out of your hands, laying them on the kitchen counter and wrapping his arms around you once more. He was silent, but you could sense the slight shudder running down his spine as you held him close, and feel the tears that were leaking onto your shoulder.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Bradley rasped, his mouth close to your ear as his face remained hidden by your hair. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, honey,” you murmured, gently pulling his head back so that you could look him in the eye. The emotion was written plainly across his face as you leaned up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“The flowers are beautiful, baby,” Bradley told you, glancing over at the bouquet once again. “My mom would love them.”

“I’m glad,” you smiled warmly, feeling proud that you had picked out something Carole would have liked.

“Let me pack up the car, and then we’ll be good to go,” Bradley said, dropping a kiss to your forehead before hurrying out of the room to go grab the things he needed.

Ten minutes later, you and Bradley were making your way towards Rosewood Cemetery, Bradley holding your hand tightly in his as he maneuvered the steering wheel down the small, winding roads. You knew he was nervous. You could feel it in the way he was gripping your hand, his thumb brushing absent-mindedly across your skin. You were nervous, too, your heart pounding in your chest the closer you came to the cemetery.

The car was quiet as you pulled through the gates a few minutes later. Bradley had turned the radio off not long after you got into the car, and neither of you had said anything since. You kept your eyes fixed on the grassy hills in front of you, lined with the tombs of all those who had been loved and lost over the course of generations.

After taking a few sharp turns on the tight, curving paths, Bradley finally stopped the car and put it in park. But he didn’t move. His one hand was still gripping yours, the other clenching the steering wheel tightly.

“Bradley?” you asked gently, not wanting to push him, but also wanting to make sure he was okay.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Bradley murmured, as if suddenly realizing what a mental fog he’d been in. He loosened his grip on your hand immediately, lightly massaging your knuckles with his fingers. “I just…”

“Is everything okay?” you asked, resting a comforting hand on his arm.

He swallowed nervously, seeming almost unable to turn and fully meet your gaze. “It’s just—when I come to visit my parents, I usually stay for a while. A few hours. I sit and I talk with them, you know? Like they’re still here. Like we’re having a conversation.” He swallowed again, suddenly fidgeting in the driver’s seat. “And well—I realize now that that might seem a little weird. And if it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to stay that long. It’s just something I’ve always done, but like I said, I always come by myself and so…”

Bradley’s sentence trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, still not looking you in the eye.

It dawned on you in that moment that Bradley was nervous not because he didn’t want to bring you here, but because he was feeling self-conscious about what you would think, watching him interact with his deceased parents. You couldn’t blame him for that. What he was doing today, what he was inviting you to be a part of, was probably the most intimate and vulnerable thing he had done in the nearly nine months you’d known him. He was opening his heart to you in a way he had admitted he’d never done with any other person. And you felt privileged to be a part of that.

“Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching over and cupping his face in your hands. “Baby, look at me,” you urged gently, waiting until he had lifted his brown eyes to meet your gaze. “Honey, I think it’s beautiful, the relationship you have with your parents. I think it’s beautiful that you spend this time with them. You don’t ever have to feel embarrassed or ashamed about that. This is your time to be with them, and I’m just so grateful that you want me here for that. We will stay here as long as you want to.”

Nodding his head slowly, Bradley grasped one of your hands in both of his and lifted it to his lips, kissing it softly. “Thank you, baby. Thank you.”

Taking a breath, Bradley opened his door and stepped out of the car, hurrying around to your side so that he could open your door as well. Grasping your hand, he helped you step out, then moved to the trunk of the car.

While you grabbed the bouquet of flowers for Carole, Bradley grabbed the large throw blanket and thermos he’d packed earlier, slamming the trunk door down with his elbow.

“Don’t want you getting grass stains or freezing out here,” he grinned, holding up the items with a soft chuckle.

That was your Bradley. Thoughtful and selfless beyond all measure. Goose and Carole would be so proud of the man their son had grown up to be.

“Ready?” Bradley asked as he came to stand beside you, juggling the blanket and thermos in one arm so that he could wrap his other around your waist.

“Ready,” you nodded, allowing him to lead you up the footpath.

The two of you walked for a couple minutes until Bradley stopped at a particular row, then took a right and led you to a spot beneath the shade of a stunningly beautiful red maple tree. November really had been a perfect time to visit.

Bradley’s hand slipped inside yours as he brought you before a large tombstone, BRADSHAW etched in bold letters across the stone face.

“Hi, Mom and Dad,” he breathed out, squeezing your hand gently as he smiled down at their gravestone.

Your heart skipped several beats as you gazed at the names carved into the stone—Lieutenant Nicholas Anthony Bradshaw and Carole Marie Bradshaw. What struck you even more deeply were the dates underneath Bradley’s father’s name—July 19, 1962-July 29th, 1986. Goose Bradshaw had died just ten days after his 24th birthday. So young. So much left to live for. So much that he never got to see.

Including the man who was standing beside you.

“I know it’s been a little while since I last visited. I can just imagine what you’re saying, Mom,” Bradley grinned ruefully. “But I had good reasons, I swear. And I’m hoping today’s visit will make up for it. I brought someone that I wanted you both to meet,” he said softly, turning his head to gaze over at you tenderly. “And she’s pretty amazing.”

You blushed slightly at that, a soft breeze rustling through the red maple and lifting your hair off your shoulders as you smiled down at Bradley’s parents’ grave. “Hi,” you greeted them softly, feeling a little shy at first, but bolstered by the feel of Bradley’s strong hand on your lower back. You introduced yourself by name, grinning warmly. “Bradley’s told me so much about you both that I feel like I know you already,” you added, suddenly remembering the bouquet you held in your hand. “Carole—oh, I mean, Mrs. Bradshaw—”

“She’d want you to call her Carole, trust me,” Bradley laughed, rubbing your back in slow circles.

“Carole,” you said again, smiling. “Bradley told me how much you love red roses, so I brought you some,” you explained, carefully settling the flowers into the small vase that was resting at the base of the tombstone. As you straightened up, you turned to look at Bradley. “Oh, I should have brought something for your dad. I feel terrible.”

Bradley smiled, shaking his head. “Knowing him, he’d say it was all about Mom anyway,” he told you with a wink. “I’m sure he’s happy with the roses.”

Chucking you under the chin affectionately, Bradley laid the large throw blanket out on the grass, the two of you working together to stretch it out flat on the ground before taking a seat upon it.

“There’s so much that’s happened since I was last here,” Bradley murmured, running a hand through his hair. “I feel like I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m sure they want to hear it all,” you assured him, pressing a tender kiss to his shoulder. “Just start from the beginning of wherever you last left off,” you encouraged him.

So he did.

You rested comfortably against your boyfriend’s side as he regaled his parents with tales of getting recalled to TOPGUN, of the uranium mission, of his reconciliation with Maverick, and all the new friends he’d made along the way, friends who had become like family. He told them about getting to be part of a special squadron stationed at North Island, how he now got to remain in San Diego, which was why it had been so long since he’d been able to travel back home.

And then he told them about how he met you.

“You were right, Mom. I know you love hearing that,” Bradley grinned, resting an arm around your shoulders. “You were always right. It happened just like you told me it would. I saw her in the middle of The Hard Deck, and it felt like the whole world stopped turning.”

“You’d be very proud of him, Goose,” you chimed in, laughing brightly. “He caught my attention with a very rousing performance of Great Balls of Fire.”

The next couple hours flew happily by, you and Bradley laughing until your sides hurt as you recalled the various antics of your friends and all the adventures—and misadventures—the two of you had gotten into since your lives had intersected. You couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as Bradley shared with you stories of his parents, and the shenanigans they had been known for, especially whenever they were with Maverick.

As the late fall sun began making its slow descent across the sky, Bradley sobered slightly and took a deep breath as he turned his focus once more to his parents’ tombstone.

“Alright, Mom and Dad. It’s getting late and I think we talked your ears off enough,” he said, slowly rising from his spot on the ground. Letting out a soft groan as he stretched his back, he reached his hands down and helped you rise up as well. “I promise I’m going to get back here soon to visit you guys again.”

“It was wonderful getting to spend the day with you,” you added, holding the thermos in your hands as Bradley folded up the throw blanket. You paused for a moment, before continuing. “Thank you for the gift of your son. He’s an amazing man, and I know that’s because of the two of you.”

Bradley’s head shot up, and he looked a bit startled by your words. “Honey,” he murmured softly, the tips of his ears turning pink in a way that had nothing to do with the autumn chill.

“What? You complimented me enough in front of them,” you teased, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

He chuckled at that, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Goodbye, Mom and Dad. I love you,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to his fingers before laying them atop their gravestone.

“Goodbye, Goose and Carole,” you murmured, mimicking Bradley’s farewell kiss.

The two of you were quiet as Bradley took your hand and led you back to the car, quickly dropping the blanket and thermos back into the trunk before opening the passenger door for you. As soon as you were both in the car, he turned and took you into his arms, cradling the back of your head in his hand.

“Today meant so much to me, honey. More than you can even know. Thank you,” he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Thank you for trusting me, baby. Thank you for bringing me here,” you replied, stroking his cheek delicately. “This was so special.”

“You’re so special, baby. And I just know my parents would have adored you. I know they’re looking down and that they’re so happy that I found you,” he told you, kissing you softly.

Pressing one last kiss to the back of your hand, Bradley put the car in drive and began to pull away, a light breeze picking up once more as you began the drive out of the cemetery.

And as the two of you drove away, a few delicate red rose petals floated on the breeze behind you, a little goodbye kiss from two people whose love would always be stronger than separation and death.

[fairytale-poll]

ROUND 1B! MATCH 3 OUT OF 8

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Ylfa:

She just went through so much and so much growth and i love her very much.

She becomes a big bad wolf

She met Death and Death wanted her to live.

Great depiction of a teenager by Emily Axford. A lot of scenes get really emotional with her being a symbol of the cycle of life and death and eventually she will always become the Big Bad Wolf.

she faced off with Death and he told her to live. this Death, who was much older than the Death she was supposed to meet, stared off with Yilfa for days until she succumbed to hunger and ate him alive. other iterations of death apologized to her for the story she was forced to suffer through, for the punishment she had to endure over an unrealistic and unabidable rule she was destined to break. her corrupted story turned her into the big bad wolf, into death itself. she sacrificed the beloved memory of her grandma, her namesake, so that her friends would be able to save their world. even though she gained it back in the end, she was willing to live the rest of her life as the wolf, a harbinger of death, and when she was reminded that she was just a child, that it wasn’t her responsibility to guide the dead, she cried, and separated from the wolf. she was able to grow up normal and happy after suffering from the looming presence of death. i’m gonna make me friend also submit yilfa bc they’re smarter than me and can make better propaganda

my mutual really likes her

Her narrative arc about growing up and life and death is so beautiful and her being a werewolf is so cool. Emily Axford gets girlhood like nobody else.

she is the bravest little girl in the world she met death and death wanted her to live she split his skull and ate the innards of death himself she is just a little girl!!!!!!!

PRIMO Red Riding Hood adaptation. Ate the wolf who ate her gramma. Is a werewolf and a metaphor for puberty. Loves her friends. Can break her bones to reshape her body into various animal forms.

Not only did she have to lose her grandmother, but she also nearly dies of starvation and exhaustion until The Big Bad Wolf, aka Death, convinced her to live, by her killing him and eating his flesh, therefore making her Death

Ylfa has a snazzy orange top hat given to her by a very attractive fairy. Three Blind Mice is her favorite story. She brought her grandma lollipopcorn and threw the broth in the river halfway there. She first developed a crush on Pinocchio when she saw him use his nose as a stripper pole and didn't kiss him until they were twenty-one and having an awkward conversation about her grandma's death and Toy Island. She fought a baron with a spoon. She wants a bra. She jumped into The Terrible Dogfish’s stomach to save her friend. She has pinkeye and grandma hobbies. She fought off a shit ton of homicidal tables at once. She is pals with Little Miss Muffet. She killed her family. She sacrificed the memory of her grandmother to become Death. She was basically adopted by Mother Goose (who is a cool old gay dude). She Wildshapes by horribly contorting her body into animalistic forms. She is a Barbarian who acts as a support character. She is the bravest little girl in the whole world.

Behold, 3 minutes of the weirdest and best little girl! [Link]

Her weirdgirl swag is off the charts :) [Link]

Ylfa Propaganda: [Link]

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary:

come on just look at her shes so fucking cool

SHES SOOOOOOOO FUCKING COOOOLL ok so like. Lobotomy Corporation takes place in an SCP type facility where a bunch of abnormalities are living. She is one of them. She is a mostly undying humanoid creature that lives for the sole sake of hunting down the Big And Will Be Bad Wolf. She lives in your facility and will BREAK OUT of her containment if she feels that the wolf is near (or if too many people are dying). You can also hire her to assist you in taking down other abnormalities, and she's actually super good at it. And her outfit is just so sooo sick? She's so cool. Please play Lobotomy Corporation it goes on sale for like $7 every Steam Sale

She's red riding hood if red riding hood had a gun. Also she kisses women

Monster based on human subconscious aka an Abnormality based on the story of Little Red Riding Hood (duh). In this story, she was mauled by the wolf (Big And Might Be Bad Wolf) who is based on all fairy tale wolf villains. Little Red then got to work plotting her revenge and making Bloodborne-esque gear for herself and the two Abnos are locked in eternal combat of hatred for one another

She's literally the coolest, just look at her. For people who might not be so familiar with her: She's one of the abnormalities that remain locked in the Lobotomy Corporation. Her past is somewhat unclear, but she has some horrid scars on her face due to the Big Bad Wolf and she swore vengeance upon him because of that incident. This lead her to become a mercenary and she looks 1000% scarier and more badass than the wolf lol. Also, asides from the fact that she may kill half of your team if she escapes containment, she is quite chill and will even help you take care of your problems if you pay her.

little red riding hood but consumed by vengeance to the point of becoming an anomalous creature hellbent on completing her eternal battle with the wolf. intense desire for revenge. baller as fuck design. will help you kill other escaping abnormalities but you gotta pay her to do it. gets pissed off every time someone escapes containment except for that one annoying bird for absolutely no discernible reason. if you let her kill the wolf she gives you bonuses but if someone else kills the wolf she goes fucking bananas. truly an inspired feral creature of a woman.

Go girl!!! We love your unrestrained violence!

She is literally the absolute coolest!!! I mean, just look at her design! Everything about it screams fucking cool! Not to mention that her story has themes of vengeance, rage, and grief!!! And Lobotomy corporation is just the fucking best and soooooo underrated.

She's starting to fall behind so GO ON AND VOTE MERC WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR! (and buy Lobotomy Corp on steam it's not even that expensive!)

Vote for Riding Hooded Mercenary she's an Abnormality serving as a hired merc that means shes a hunter of her own kind and she WILL chase them to the ends of earth lest she dies herself or knows that damn Wolf is nearby. The cursor for sending hits on something is a wanted poster. She's WAW-classed too, a step below the most dangerous category for her ilk. she shares the class with things such as insane-ass magical girls, an eyeless flower horse turns people into wisteria gardens, fucked up and evil Little Prince, a bird judge that hangs its victims, the now-animate poisoned apple that killed Snow White, and of course the Wolf itself.

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel By the Wings - TWENTY

Chapter Warnings: discussion of abortion, small mention of domestic violence, pregnancy

Series Masterlist AND Mobile Masterlist

Bradley pressed the name in his contacts and waited for the phone to dial before he let himself think and further. His feet carried him a mile away from Hangman’s house to some 24-hour diner where the waitress called him baby and he could order a stack of pancakes larger than Jake’s ego.

Pregnant. Fuck. It could easily be his kid. Four weeks ago, he was pulling delicious noises from you as he fucked you like it was his goddamn job. And then when you said the words, it felt like ice water had been poured over his head. 

Because he had just gotten back from a mission where he nearly died and all he could think about was the fact that he could have easily left his kid behind like his dad did. He didn’t remember much of his dad, just bits and pieces that he learned mostly through absorbing it from other people, namely his mom and Maverick. But he was keenly aware of the grief that consumed his mom. She might have died from cancer, but he still believed a broken heart played a role in that.

He couldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t. He saw what losing his dad did to his mom. He wouldn’t let that happen to you or Jake.

But it could be your kid, that traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispered. Do you really want to give up that opportunity? To be a dad? To be in a kid’s life? To impact them the way you were impacted, even if it had just been the legacy Goose left behind?

“Hello?” Maverick sounded confused when he answered Bradley’s call. They had seen each other only two hours earlier and now Bradley was calling him out of the blue.

“How did my dad react when he found out my mom was pregnant?” He figured he didn’t really have time for pleasantries when it felt like the walls were shrinking around him.

“I…well, he was excited. I think he was honestly more excited than your mother. Carole told him over the phone because we were deployed on a carrier for three months and he damn near hit the roof.” A soft laugh escaped Maverick. “He spent the next few months constantly talking to any parent on the boat asking for advice. And the moment he saw her at the baggage claim, he just started crying. I’d never seen him cry so much.”

Bradley looked out the window and saw his reflection stare back at him, a smile lifted on his face. His mom always spoke of Goose as though he hung the moon, but it was different hearing about their love from an outsider perspective.

“And did he ever…was he ever scared?”

“Oh, he was scared shitless. Carole told me he fainted during labor and I swear he had, like, six parenting books at all times.”

“But was he ever scared about…leaving me?”

Something rustled on the other end of the line before Maverick finally replied, his voice quiet. “What’s this about, kid?”

How do you explain to the guy who basically raised you after your dad died that you might have knocked up a girl and the other potential father was Hangman?

“Just curious,” he replied.

“Bradley.” Yeah, he knew that tone. That was Mav’s “you can’t out bullshit the bullshitter” tone. Bradley ran his hand over his face and then rested his forehead on his palm, eyes squeezed shut. The encompassing scent of black coffee curled around his shoulders and he was grateful for Doris’ continued refills.

“She’s four weeks pregnant, Mav, and the kid could be mine and the minute I found out, I just…”

“Ran,” Maverick sighed. “Because you thought about your mom. And you got scared.”

Damnit. Years of not speaking and he still had Bradley figured out in seconds. Bradley shouldn’t have called. He just dumped this on the man he was yelling at a week ago and nearly died with three days prior.

“Goose never regretted having you. The opposite, actually. He told me that he was grateful Carole had you around because he saw that she was an amazing mother. Of course, he wanted more time with you, but I can say for certain that he never, ever regretted having you.”

Bradley hated the sudden burn of tears that pressed against the back of his eyes and he focused his attention outside again where dark, heavy clouds were rolling in on the horizon. Huh, maybe a storm was coming in.

“Bradley,” Maverick got his attention again. “Any kid would be lucky to have you as a dad. You can’t let the past keep holding you back from your future. You’ll never give yourself a chance to live.”

“But what if I die and leave this kid and her behind?”

“And what if you don’t? Are you really just going to up and leave this kid? The mom? Carole Bradshaw didn’t raise you to be like this.”

That sent a shockwave of realization across his spine. Holy shit. His mom would kill him if she could see him right now. His mom who sacrificed so much and tried to keep a smile on her face even when she was in her deepest pits of grief. His mom who would have absolutely adored you and would have teased Jake endlessly.

“Thanks, Mav. I gotta go.”

“Hey, listen. You should come by my place sometime soon. We still need to have that talk, I recall. Bring your girl along, I’d love to meet her.”

Bradley grinned. “Yeah, that would be great.”

He hung up and tossed a twenty onto the table before he jogged out into the humid air outside. Shit, yeah, it really was about to storm. Even with busted ribs and his body feeling like it got hit by a freight train, he could probably outrun the storm.

Probably.

San Diego rarely got thunderstorms, but it was fitting that the silence in Jake’s apartment was shattered with a low rumble of thunder off in the distance. The sun was obscured by the thick clouds that swallowed the sky and you pushed off the bed you were curled up on. Hopefully, Jake would be in his room or napping on the couch or not paying attention to the fact that you were creeping out to stand on the porch and watch the storm roll in.

The moment you settled yourself on his cement porch, a blanket draped over your shoulders and you sighed. Of course he heard you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured once he sat next to you. Jake pulled the other edge of the blanket around his own shoulder, sealing the heat between the two of you. Lightning flashed across the sky and you tensed minutely, relaxing when you remembered the warm, steady form next to you.

“There’s no excuse for what I said, I was angry and I took it out on you and I’m sorry,” you added. He still said nothing and you took that as a moment to glance over at him. He was studying the clouds with the same cool indifference he looked at the pool table at the Hard Deck. You were about to beg him to say something when he began to speak.

“After my mom had Liz, she realized she couldn’t keep having kids if she wanted to run from my dad sooner than later. When she got pregnant again, she was able to make an appointment at the local clinic. She was only gone a few hours while the neighbor watched us, but when she came back, she seemed…I don’t know. She was sad but also there was this weight off of her shoulders. She had the chance to protect herself and protect us and save any future kid from that bastard.”

He spoke about his father with such venom that you had to reach out and cup his cheek, your thumb brushing along his hairline. Jake inhaled against your touch and then turned to face you, his bright eyes clouded by memories.

“Whatever you choose, I’ll be there. I’ll drive you to the clinic and take care of you afterwards. If you keep this kid, I’m all in. I never considered being a father before and I’m scared out of my fucking mind, but I swear to you that I would never, ever treat you or them like my father did.”

“Oh, Jake,” your voice broke at his promise. “I know you would never hurt me. I don’t think you’re even capable of hurting a fly. You’re all bark and no bite, Tex.” You bumped your shoulder against his and he leaned into you, his lips coming up to press against your temple.

“I’m terrified, but there’s this part of me that keeps saying what if? What if I keep it? What if I give this kid the best damn life? What if I have the life I always wanted but never thought I could have?”

“Whatever you need, you’ll have. Money, clothes, a house, furniture, I’ll handle it. If you want me around, I’ll be there. If you want me gone, I’ll disappear.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder and smiled against the growing tears in your eyes. Rain was starting to patter down onto the ground, filling the air with the rich smell of soil.

But above the noise of the rain came another pounding.

You raised your head just in time to see Rooster jog around the side of Hangman’s truck and stop directly in front of you two in the pouring rain. Jake sat ramrod straight, his gaze darting all over Bradley as the brunet bent over to catch his breath.

“Jesus, Bradshaw, you have cracked ribs and you ran?” Jake exclaimed.

“You have what?!” you yelped. Bradley waved both of your concerns off and then straightened up.

“My dad died when I was two,” he rushed out. “And it wrecked my mother. And I can’t let that happen to you, but Mav basically told me I’m being an idiot and he’s right. I can’t let the past continue to make my decisions. I can’t let that fear hold me back.”

You stared at him, wide eyed, as you took in his words. You pushed the blanket off of your shoulders and stood. The cool rain poured down on your head, but you didn’t care. You needed to hear this straight.

“And if the baby isn’t yours?” you directed the question to both of them. “I can’t get a paternity test for five more weeks.”

“Fuck the what ifs! If anyone has questions or judgment, they can fuck off,” Bradley shouted. He raised his arms from his sides and extended them out, welcoming the incoming storm. Jake stood as well, a wild grin on his lips that made you breathless.

“I agree with the chicken for once, darlin’. Fuck ‘em. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out when we get there.”

You could feel your own smile blossom and you glanced between the two men. “So if I told you right now that I wanted to keep this baby, you would be okay with that?”

Bradley swooped in, his chilled hands enclosing around your cheeks as he laid a kiss on your lips before retracting so he could do the same to Jake. Your heart was beating quickly, not from anxiety but from exhilaration. Holy shit, the three of you were doing this.

You grabbed one of each man’s arms and tugged them further down the driveway. The rain soaked you to the bone, but you didn’t care. You threw your hands up in the air and let out a burst of laughter. Jake wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. The three of you were like little kids. You jumped into puddles, danced in the rain, and laughed harder than you had in days.

“Alright,” Jake surprisingly was the one who ended the fun. “Back inside you two. Can’t have our angel catching a cold and you need to rest, Roo.”

You rolled your eyes but acquiesced. Of course they were going to become incredibly protective. Jake wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you headed back into the apartment.

“Miss,” Bradley said with an air of elegance. He bowed as you stepped across the threshold and you snorted at his theatrics. 

“Thank you, sir.” You curtsied and accepted the towel he offered you.

“You should take a shower, angel. To warm up,” Jake said as he shut the door behind him and locked it. You considered his words for a second and took a step backwards into the apartment. Your soaking wet shirt was plastered to your skin but you tugged it off and chucked it in the direction of the laundry room.

“I’d hate for you boys to miss out on all the warm water,” you taunted. You spun on your heel and dashed off towards the bathroom with two pairs of footsteps following close behind.

As the warm water trickled down on their heads, you found yourself shielded from the brunt of the spray as the men sandwiched you between them. Jake stood at your back, his left hand splayed across your torso and his lips pressed under your ear. Bradley delicately slid the loofah across your skin, watching in awe as the suds traveled across your skin and disappeared in the water. You gently slid your fingers through Bradley’s curls and let your nails scratch across his scalp, eliciting a delicious moan from him.

You helped the soap wash out of Bradley’s hair before you grabbed his hand just as he swiped the rough fabric against your thigh. You grasped his left hand and Jake’s right, settling them both over the slight rounding of your stomach.

“That’s her?” Bradley whispered.

“How do you know it’s a she?” Jake hummed. He stroked his hand down the tiny curve of your barely-there bump. “It could be a he.”

“Angel isn’t that cursed. Three of us?” Bradley shot back. You chuckled and rested your head back on Jake’s shoulder.

“As small as a poppy seed,” you murmured. Fuck, how on earth could you care for something so small? How could you protect this little thing from the world? What about when it came out of you?

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Jake whispered into your hair. He sensed your trepidation and instantly set about soothing away your worries. “Roo and I would never let anything happen to you two.”

The brunet’s handsome face earned a fierce glare and he nodded, head jerking sharply before he moved in closer. “Promise.”

A million questions swirled around in your head and you were plagued with even more worries. But here, in this moment, supported by these two men, you felt safer than you had ever felt before.

Tag List: @mizzzpink​ @xoxabs88xox​ @dreaminglandsworld​ @khaylin27​ @loveforaugust​ @phoenixssugarbaby​ @atarmychick007​ @mak-32​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @krismdavis​ @emma8895eb​ @startrekfangirl​ @hangmandruigandmav​ @lunamoonbby​ @startrekfangirl2233​

[fallenclan]

Pebblefreeze & Human Drabble

by Dragon Anon

"Another newcomer, ey?" Human jolted at the sound of a gravelly voice. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the grey she-cat approach. Well, mostly grey. Her tail was a brilliant reddish color, standing out starkly against her pelt. 

"Ah, hello," Human murmured uncertainly. The she-cat grinned, as if delighted only to be acknowledged. 

"I'm Pebblefreeze," she mrrowed.

"How'd you get a name like that?" Human tilted his head, gaze sweeping over the cotton-pelted 'Pebblefreeze' once more. 

"It's a warrior name."

"Oh, I know about that. Thistleskip taught me. I just mean... you look more like a 'Pebbleflame' to me."

Human flinched back when the she-cat let out a growl, only to realize she was laughing a few seconds later. "Pebbleflame! Ha! If only Maplestar had thought of that one."

"Maplestar?" 

"He was our clan's leader back when I was a 'paw." 

"Ah."

"..."

"What?"

"You never told me your name, silly."

"Oh, uh! I'm Human."

"...and how'd you get a name like that?"

...

"This is my dad, Evie," Pebblefreeze purred. "And the cat cuddling with him is Crowflame."

"We are not cuddling, Pebblefreeeze," Crowflame hissed. "It's drafty in this den. Maybe if the apprentices had actually done their job and brought back those goose feathers..."

"I seem to remember a certain apprentice getting bit by a goose once..." Evie hummed thoughtfully. "Who was that again?"

"Be quiet, Evie."

"Blizzardfang always had delightful stories about your apprentice days..."

"Evie," Crowflame growled.

"Stop teasing him, dad." Pebblefreeze sat down, shaking her head solemnly. "You're only reminding him of a traumatic childhood event. Truly, quite insensitive of you."

Crowflame snorted, rolling to his paws and stomping out of the elders' den, although Human thought he heard the tom mutter something along the lines of "I'm too old for this."

"Anyway," Evie yawned, shifting to his paws. "Who's this?"

"I'm Human," Human replied quickly. It still felt surreal to him that so many clan cats actually knew their parents. Had grown up with them. Human could barely remember his own mother's face, let alone her name. Idly, he wondered if Pebblefreeze had siblings too. 

"Hi, Human. I'm dad," Evie replied nonchalantly.

"Pebblefreeze already introduced you," a tawny-spotted cat rasped, slinking forward from the back of the den. Human started. There were so many cats in FallenClan, he could hardly keep track of them. "I'm Mothspots."

"Hi." Human ducked his head, feeling a bit timid. 

"My sister's around here somewhere too..." Pebblefreeze murmured thoughtfully, glancing around the den. "I think."

"Willowsplash and Bub went out on a walk, actually. You're welcome to wait for them in here, if you want. I'm sure I could tell Human plenty of stories about your kittenhood..."

"Oh, please do!" Pebblefreeze chortled. "Sit down, Human. You'll love this."

...

"What happened to Hopethistle?"

"What?"

"Sorry. I mean, your dad mentioned her being Cherrystar's sister. I, uh, know about Cherrystar's sudden death, given how it happened pretty recently before I joined the clan. I haven't heard anything about Hopethistle, though."

"She died a long time ago." Pebblefreeze shrugged, gaze growing distant for a few moments before refocusing on Human. "We don't actually know what happened. Just... found her dead one day."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Human grimaced, feeling suddenly ashamed for asking.

"Don't be. Like I said, it was a long time ago. I was a lot more troublesome back then."

"More so than you are now?" The words were out of Human's mouth before he could stop them, and he felt a pang of alarm. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Ha ha! So you do have some fire in you after all! C'mon, why don't I show you where Hopethistle and I used to sneak off to together? We used to drive our mentors crazy."

" . . . all right."

...

"Rah! I'm the strongest warrior ever!" Frozenkit yowled, bounding across camp in a few long strides. "Surrender or die!"

"Guess I'll have to surrender then," Pebblefreeze grinned, dramatically falling to her side. "Please, be merciful!"

"Nuh uh! I'll protect you, momma," Tempestkit yowled, tackling Frozenkit. Human took a worried step forward, but Pebblefreeze shot him an amused glance. He sat down again. 

A few pawsteps away, Tinykit looked up from a snail he had been observing all morning with Palekit. "Watch it! You could break his shell if you fall on him," Palekit hissed. 

"What shell--hey! Frozenkit, you hit my eye!" 

Human shot an imploring gaze at Pebblefreeze, and this time she nodded in confirmation. Stepping forward, the tom gently detangled his kits. "Are you all right, Tempestkit?

"Mhm," she sniffled slightly. "I'm tough."

"Sorry, Tempest," Frozenkit peered at her sister. "It was an accident."

"It's okay."

"Why don't we all go find a nice spot and curl up, and I can tell you kits a story about the twolegplace?" Human rumbled. 

"Can I stay out here with Palekit?" Tinykit asked.

"I can stay out here and watch him," Pebblefreeze hummed casually. 

"Thank you. You really don't mind-?"

"I don't," Pebblefreeze chuckled. "Go on, but make sure it's an exciting story or they'll be demanding I tell them a different one later."

"Of course," Human purred. With a contented sigh, the tom swept up Frozenkit and Tempestkit with his tail, letting his daughters ride on his back as he padded towards the nursery.

Pebblefreeze rested her chin on her paws, hoping that Bluefern and Newtscar were watching, wherever they might be.

-🐉 (pebblefreeze & human drabble.)

(beetle note: YOU NEVER MISSSSSS THIS IS SO GOOD!!! i love the exploration of pebblefreeze and human's friendship,,,, theyre the silliest)