#my 6 wonderful children and dearest husband-

[payaso-affairs]

Been knee deep into pokemon since i was bribed and cruelly suggested to download pokemon masters ex so have some wips :)

Pokémon team in their outfits and a little comic based on that one audio from Kawaii Vocaloid's song

[nebulaafterdark]

More Than Anyone (Part 7)

Warnings: 18+ smut, targcest, lactation, childbirth

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Y/N’s term is complete, her body aches. Though she rarely complains, perhaps she knows it will do no good. Or perhaps she had bore enough children that she is used to pain.

Aegon is not sure which. Dutifully he climbs into their bed each night, to hold her and soothe her tense muscles after a bath. Pressing the lightest of kisses to her skin. “After this babe we need no more heirs.” He kisses her temple reverently. Aegon does not wish her to suffer. “You have performed your duty. The crown is satisfied. I am satisfied.”

“What happened to ‘as many as you’ll give me?” Y/N jests. That’s the number of children he’d once asked her for.

The prince smiles, “I watched you bring our son into this world…I would not wish that pain on my enemy, least of all my dearest love.”

“But it’s worth it, wouldn’t you say?” Y/N grunts as she turns to face him.

“Our children are very dear to me.” You are also dear to me.

“Mayhaps this conversation should be tabled for a day when there is not a child pressing against my organs. I might be able to think a bit more clearly.”

“You know, my sweetheart,” Aegon begins chasing another train of thought. “The Maester once told me that babes can be coaxed out the same way they’re coaxed in.”

“Oh?” Y/N smirks, passing a hand over her swollen belly.

“Let me see here.” Aegon leans forward, giving sweet kisses to her bump. Then helping to work her nightgown and small clothes to the floor.

“Aegon,” she flushes, not used to his eyes on her in this state.

“You are beautiful,” he murmurs. “So pretty, so…full. Wonder how you’ll fair with my cock in you.”

Y/N whines, as he cups her breasts, thumbing her nipples to peaks before suckling at the left. The princess is so sensitive that she nearly bursts into tears. The soft pressure of Aegon’s lips finally draws the first signs of milk from within her. “Aegon.”

“You were brought into this world to be mine.” He murmurs, lapping at the droplets. “All the nights I lied awake, to drown myself in cups and wonder, ‘why me?’ I see it all so clearly now. I had to be born who I am and you had to be born who you are, so that our paths might cross. There is nothing we could do about it, our fate was written in the stars. This body longs for me as mine longs for you. All these years wasted fucking whores, to find relief from the aching hole in my heart, when it was you. My sweet girl.”

Y/N inhales sharply, as he latches on to the opposite breast. “I love you dearly, Aegon. So much so that my heart aches with it.”

He hums against her. To be loved, he had so often longed to be loved. His wife was born of love and therefore will never know half his demons. Though when he shared them, she took half their weight.

The Princess faces a different set of battles, to prove herself, to accept what is afforded her, acquired through fire and blood.

“Fuck,” Aegon sighs, his cock sliding easily into her warmth as she lies propped up against the pillows.

Her grin is lazy, spread across her lips like the cat who ate the canary. In this moment, she is every bit the spoiled little thing some thought her to be.

Her husband shifts his weight back on his ankles, fucking into her hard enough to make Y/N gasp. “Just there?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

Y/N nods as he ruts against that spot within her. Fingers fumbling around in search of his hand. So much of her pleasure and her pain is held in his palms, where she finds comfort and strength in times of need.

Aegon twines their fingers together, feeling Y/N squeeze in time with her cunt. Full breasts bouncing wildly with each thrust. “To think this is what you’ve hidden from me all these years.” He clicks his tongue at her, never were his eyes allowed the privilege of her beauty great with his child.

“I still wish to hide,” she admits.

Aegon chuckles, draping the top sheet across her middle with his free hand. Watching with the softest of gazes as his sweet girl situates the material over her breasts, taking it down nearly to the place where they are joined. His strokes are slow and deep, lulling his wife to a gentle peak.

Y/N lets out a tiny sob as his hips snap against hers in quick succession. Throwing her headlong into a second orgasm, which soaks both of their thighs in her slick.

“Good girl,” Aegon praises, thumbing at her twitching bundle of nerves.

“Aegon,” she warns, catching his wrist.

“Once more,” he murmurs, close to the precipice himself.

“I can’t,” the pretty little thing hiccups beneath him.

Aegon only hushes her, “you can, sweetheart.”

“It hurts.” Too much of a good thing always does.

“Shhh,” he soothes, circling the swollen nub softly.

Tears well up in her eyes as she finds Aegon’s gaze.

“I’ve got you,” he coos.

The princess feels another climax building low in her belly. Breath leaving her in short puffs. “I-”

“I know,” Aegon groans, feeling her inner walls flutter around his cock. He draws pleasure from her cruelly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Y/N wails, succumbing to him once more. Denied the ability to come down by his deft fingers, nudging back the hood of her pearl. “No more.” She pleads, bottom lip quivering. “Please, Aegon, please!”

The sound of her desperate pleas hurtle Aegon to his peak, cursing as thick ropes of cum fill her twitching cunt. Sore and twinging from exquisite torture.

He pulls out after a moment, collapsing beside her and brushing sweat damp hair from her face. Soft kisses as Y/N catches her breath, drying any trace of tears.

“That was an awful thing to do.” She chastises, no fire behind her words.

“Forgive me, my dearest love.” Aegon repents, helping to situate his wife on her side, a soft pillow cushioning her belly.

Y/N sighs, his arms coming round to stroke the babe in her womb.

“I will kiss it better, if you wish.” He taunts, earning a slap to his forearm.

“Don’t you even dream of it,” she nuzzles farther against him, despite her protest.

“Will you have your maids attend the birth this time?” The last time it was only the two of them. It was peaceful.

“If I ask for you and only you, will you be terribly upset?”

Aegon shakes his head. He would not be upset, “it would be my great honor.” To deliver another of their children…especially if this is to be their last.

Y/N let’s out a yawn, “that is what I want.”

————————————————————————

The morrrow comes too soon, forcing Y/N from the warmth of her bed to tend her duties. A council meeting, as heir, the princess cannot miss it.

She listens carefully, seated at the long table. Rhaenyra was born to be queen. Y/N hopes to make her proud.

As the minutes drag on, Jacaerys can’t help but notice his sister shifting uncomfortably in her chair. He inches closer, “sister? Is everything alright?”

To his surprise, she seizes his hand, squeezing tightly for a moment before exhaling harshly and coming back to herself. “I am well.” Y/N forces a smile as she releases his fingers.

He gawks at her while the blood returns to his hand. “Your labors.”

The princess quiets him. “Not now.”

“Are you mad?” Jace hisses, “this is not something you can postpone.”

“Mmm.” She hums out, low in her throat. Earning Daemon’s attention and then her mother’s.

“Is something the matter?” The Queen demands, they know better than to behave this way without cause.

“No. Forgive me, your grace.” Y/N chokes out, through a contraction.

“Yes,” Jace rats her out, “her labors have started.”

“Well,” Rhaenyra offers her daughter a kind smile. “You are excused, Princess.”

“Thank you, your grace.” Jacaerys nods, helping his sister to her feet.

“Ah,” she clutches at her lower belly as she stands.

Jace tosses her arm over his shoulder for support.

“Can’t believe you told her.” Y/N scowls, shuffling from the council room into the hall.

“Did you think I’d let you give birth during a small council meeting?”

“I could’ve made it.”

“Liar.”

“Fuck,” Y/N curses, forcing her legs to continue toward her chambers.

“How painful is it? If you had to say?” Jace wonders, soon his wife will be birthing their babe. He is doing his best to prepare.

“It is the worst pain I have ever known,” Y/N pants out. “Yet I would do it a hundred times more.”

He takes comfort in this. That it would be worth it; for her, for Baela. “Perhaps I could deliver my babe. Do you think Baela might like that?”

“I do not know, Jacaerys.” She bites out. “You are a kind man, a good husband, you will be a wonderful father.” Breathe, breathe. “But it is hard to speak at a time like this.”

“I apologize. Let us get you to Aegon.” The Prince sighs, hobbling down the corridor. Of course there’s the stairs, his poor sister…

“I can’t,” Y/N sobs out. This child is coming, she will not make it to the top. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Y/N, tell me now, what can I do?” Jace helps her down, kneeling beside her on the bottom step.

“Send for Aegon, please hurry.”

“Surely you mustn’t be alone.”

“It’s just up the stairs, down the hall. I will be alright.” Y/N assures him.

“Very well,” he gives her shoulder a squeeze, making to stand. Dashing toward their chambers, Jace finds Aegon within. Newly clothed, unhurried.

“What is it?” Aegon frowns at the intrusion.

“Y/N is having the babe.” Jace pants out, having sprinted. “At the bottom of the staircase. Now.”

“Now?” Aegon all but shouts, rushing past his nephew, down the hallway and taking the steps two at a time. He finds his wife hunched forward, with her hands resting on her thighs, still fully clothed. “Sweetheart.”

“Help me,” Y/N pleads, shoving his arm up beneath her skirts.

“I’ve got you.” He murmurs, feeling the child has already begun crowning.

Y/N whimpers, this part never gets any easier.

“That’s it, sweet girl. We’ll have this babe in no time.”

Jacaerys is a few steps away, facing outward. Ensuring their safety and privacy in this moment.

“Oww, FUCK!”

“Breathe,” Aegon reminds her, their child’s head in his hand.

Her thighs tremble, aching from holding up her weight. Aegon peppers gentle kisses to the side of her face.

“I love you, more than you will ever know. And I am forever grateful for the family you have given me.” Aegon murmurs, as his wife bears down, the shoulders are tricky. “Our family.”

A few more moments of agony and the baby is in Aegon’s arms. Announcing their arrival with a loud wail.

“Thank the gods.” Jacaerys breathes, still facing away.

“Another boy, my darling.” Aegon informs Y/N, as she slumps down in relief.

“His hair-”

“I have been waiting, hoping even.” Aegon admits. “For a child with your features, perhaps you heard me in there, hmm?” He cooes at his son.

“Aegon,” Y/N smiles.

“Hmm?”

“His name,” she explains. “I wish to name him Aegon…after you. My dearest love.”

“Are you certain?” Tears prickle at the back of his eyes.

Y/N knows he can deny her nothing. “I have never been more certain.”

Series Taglist: @sophiexoxosblog @alicentswife @f4ll-for-you @tempt-ress @percyjacksonspeen @zoleea-exultant @midnightrqin @buckystevelove @httpjiikook @neenieweenie @springholland @zeennnnnnn @yelenabeleovapocket @nejiho3 @thatkindofgurl @aemondsb1tch @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @kiahpapaya @existential-echo @zzz000eee @janelongxox @bunny24sstuff @alitaar @minttea07 @rwdkarla @bibli0thecary @loxbbg

[captainswanapproved]

An Indecent Proposal-Chapter 17

A03,Prologue, Chapter 1,Chapter 2,Chapter 3, Chapter 4,Chapter 5,Chapter 6,Interlude,Chapter 7,Chapter 8,Chapter 9,Chapter 10,Chapter 11,Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16

Daemon x Rhaenyra Multichapter AU:

Daemon leaves Rhaenyra at her wedding feast. Rhaenyra marries Laenor. After a year of trying to do their duty and produce an heir, Rhaenyra writes to Daemon.

She needs a true Targaryen heir.

It only needs to be an arrangement of business, she says. And it would result in Daemon’s child one day taking the Iron Throne.

Daemon accepts the proposal and returns to court.

Only, ventures like these are never simple. As much as they would wish to, Daemon and Rhaenyra cannot let go of the past, or the feelings they once had for each other.

123 AC

“Drink more wine, my love, it will help you sleep,” Alicent said.

Viserys obeyed. “You take good care of me, my dearest,” Viserys said, leaning to kiss her.

Alicent tried not to recoil. The benefit of Rhaenyra and Daemon being away at Dragonstone was that it had given Alicent ample time to bring her husband back under her thrall. But this also meant that she had to bed him every night and endure his attentions during the waking hours as well. Yet, she had still not managed to become pregnant again.

Viserys finished his wine and she kissed him again before returning to her own chambers. She idly wondered how many years this poison would take to work its magic. By now she understood more of her father’s intentions, but he had still failed to reveal all his plans to her. She simply knew she had to keep Viserys on her side.

There was a letter waiting for her when she arrived in her chambers.

Daughter,

You have been doing well to take advantage of our enemies being away from court. But you must continue to pray to be blessed with child again. Your rival has six children, whilst you only have four.

Aegon and Aemond have been gathering the allegiance of sellswords in the North and in the Vale. I continue to send them gold so they can properly arm those interested in supporting our cause. Tyland Lannister has been procuring pilfering the funds from the royal treasury.

I have received information from Dragonstone that the boy, named Aegon, is nearly identical to his elder brother. Once they return to court, you can use this to spread doubt. If we can get Viserys to realize that Rhaenyra has given birth to five bastard children, he will surely dismiss Daemon as his Hand and make our Aegon his rightful heir.

Start spreading your whispers now.

Your Lord Father

Alicent burned the letter and cursed Rhaenyra as she did. She would punish that impudent bitch for naming stealing her son’s name.

Criston Cole appeared some time later, eager to do her bidding. He always was, so long as she spread her legs for him. Keeping him on her side demanded certain sacrifices. After their encounters, however, she drank moon tea. She would not produce another bastard. Though it did occur to her that continuing to sleep with Criston while taking moon tea could jeopardize her chances to have another child by Viserys. So she sent Ser Criston to spread her message throughout the Seven Kingdoms and return at the end of the year.

He gladly went after a swift coupling. She sent for her moon tea and swallowed it down. With him gone, she would be free to focus all her efforts upon Viserys.

***

When Daemon and  Rhaenyra returned to King’s Landing, they received a grand welcoming feast. They presented Aegon the Younger to Viserys and the king declared him delightful.

The lords and ladies of Westeros congratulated them on their swift blessings. But they started whispering to one another when the proud parents turned their backs. Rumors about Rhaenyra’s children had started to circle again. And with Prince Aegon looking almost identical to his elder half-brother, well, suspicions were confirmed.

On their second night in King’s Landing, Jaela, their loyal and unofficial Mistress of Whisperers stole into the Red Keep and took the passage leading to Rhaenyra’s royal apartments.

The young woman was not so easily intimidated, but as she looked at the Princess and the Prince Consort, she felt certain she would be punished.

“Forgive me for disturbing you, Princess, My Prince. Only highly concerning rumors would compel me to do so.”

“Jaela, as always, we appreciate your service,” Rhaenyra said kindly. “Now please, say what you came to say.”

“Queen Alicent and her supporters are saying that Prince Daemon is the father of your children. She means to tell the king that they are bastards in hopes that he will confine you to Dragonstone and send Prince Daemon to the Wall.”

Daemon laughed and Jaela’s eyes widened.

“That will never work. That stupid bitch is growing desperate.”

“Prince Aegon the Younger does look exactly like Prince Jacaerys,” Jaela said. “That is compelling evidence to many in King’s Landing. The small folk, of course, care not, for the Queen does nothing to curry their favor. But the minor lords who are allied with House Hightower are a different story. And I have heard rumors that the Master of Coin himself believes the rumors.”

Daemon snorted. “I can deal with the Lannister cunt. He is bitter that Rhaenyra refused to betroth Jacaerys to his granddaughter.”

“Thank you for bringing these rumors to us, Jaela,” Rhaenyra said, crossing the room to a chest and removing several gold coins. She gave them to Jaela and sent her away.

She continued to pace, though, twisting the fabric of her skirt in her hands.

Daemon rose and put his hands on her shoulders. “Surely you don’t think your father will believe the rumors.”

“They are the truth,” Rhaenyra said.

“Yes, but when it comes to his family, my brother is blind.”

“His loyalty is divided. Do you know how often I’ve had to read about Alicent’s kindness in his recent letters. She has drawn him back to her side in our absence, pouring her honey in his ears.”

“By brother is a cunt struck old fool,” Daemon said.

“We have to circumvent this, Daemon. We should tell him the truth. He will legitimize them, and then it will not matter.”

“Do you think that wise?” Daemon asked. “We would lose the support of some of the Lords.”

“These Lords swore their fealty to me. If they break their vows when the time comes for me to take my throne, then I will simply burn them as traitors and offer their children an opportunity to bend the knee.”

Daemon kissed her, long and hard.

“What was that for?” Rhaenyra asked, a little breathless.

“I love it when you are ruthless.”

“You are a bad influence,” Rhaenyra said.

“Mmmmm, the worst,” Daemon agreed as he kissed her again, and they lost themselves in each other. After, though, Daemon said, “If you wish to tell Viserys the truth, I will not question your judgement.”

“All will be well, Daemon, and do not act as though you do not wish to publicly claim our children as your own.”

Daemon could not fault his wife for making such a claim. He was weary of his five eldest being addressed as Velaryons, no matter how much respect he had for Laenor.

***

 “Lord Tyland Lannister is here to see you, Your Grace,” Ser Harrold said.

Viserys nodded and Ser Harrold opened the door. The Master of Coin entered the chamber and said, “Thank you for seeing me, Your Grace.”

“What is it, Lord Tyland?” Viserys said. His head was throbbing and his body was aching. His sleep continued to be plagued by discomfort.

“A most serious accusation has been heard from the mouths of many of your loyal lords and ladies. I am afraid in concerns Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon.”

“Tell me,” Viserys said, tiredly.

“Many believe that Ser Laenor was never the father of any of Princess Rhaenyra’s children. Prince Jacaerys and Prince Aegon look like brothers, not half-brothers.”

“Tread carefully, Lord Tyland. You are verging on treason.”

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace. I am simply reporting what I have heard from many of your subjects.”

“Daemon and Laenor are both of Velaryon blood. As is Rhaenyra. It is not shocking that her children by Laenor would resemble her child by Daemon.”

“But Your Grace, the Prince came to court and suddenly the Princess was with child. ”

“A mere coincidence. The gods work in mysterious ways.

“The Prince treats them as his own children.”

“As he should. Prince Daemon is now a father of six. It is natural for him to dote upon his stepchildren, who are in truth, his great nieces and nephews.”

“But—"

Viserys cut him off. “I will not entertain notions such as these, Lord Tyland. Now leave me in peace.”

The man seemed to lose his courage. He bowed and departed.

“Aemon, some more wine, if you please.”

The silver haired boy rushed to do his bidding. Viserys drank deeply, enjoying the burning sensation of the wine and its strangely sweet aftertaste.

However, he was not meant to have an afternoon of peace, because not an hour later, Rhaenyra and Daemon unceremoniously entered his chambers. Their hair and clothing was slightly mussed and rumpled.

“I am tired,” Viserys said. “We can speak tomorrow.”

“Father, this is important,” Rhaenyra said, her voice steely. She had grown so much in the past few years, becoming more queenly and commanding with every passing moon.

“Very well,” Viserys said, taking a chair beside the fire and gesturing for his daughter and brother to join him. “What is it you need to tell me?”

Rhaenyra faltered for a moment. Viserys watched as Daemon took her hand. She seemed to draw strength from this simple act. “King’s Landing is filled with vicious gossip and rumors, but on occasion, the naysayers stumble upon the truth. Daemon and I have been lying to you, Father.”

“You have? About what?”

Rhaenyra looked to Daemon, who nodded. Rhaenyra took a deep breath and said, “Ser Laenor was incapable of fathering children. We tried for a year to do our duty, and when that failed, I begged Daemon to return to court. He is the father of all my children.”

Viserys gaped at them. Neither expression bore any hint of shame or regret.

“You cannot be serious. Ser Laenor claimed them as his children. They have his features.”

“They have Valyrian features,” Rhaenyra corrected. “That is why I asked Daemon to father my heirs. After Alyssa and Jacaerys were born though, we already loved each other too much to to be parted. Laenor knew the truth. He carried on his own affair with Ser Qarl Correy. Unfortunately that ended in tragedy.”

“This cannot be,” Viserys said.

“It is true, Brother,” Daemon said, speaking for the first time. “But that does not change the fact that they are true Targaryens. The line of succession goes through Rhaenyra. It does not matter who her husband was. They are legitimate.”

“The realm will not see it that way.”

“Fuck the realm. You are the king. Defend your daughter and her children. Our children.”

“By doing what, exactly?”

“Naturalize them. The king’s word is law. Allow your grandchildren to take the Targaryen name. It is their birthright.”

“Please, Father. I know this is difficult to hear, but my children are innocent in all of this. They do not deserve to be the subject of vicious speculation.”

Viserys groaned. He could not believe that his family had been deceiving him for all these years. But his beloved grandchildren were innocent, and for all their flaws, he loved Daemon and Rhaenyra. Alicent would be furious. She would claim that Rhaenyra deserved to be punished.

But the blood of the dragon ran thick. After all he had done to hurt his brother and daughter over the years, he could not deny them this request. And hiding from the rumors would only make the consequences more difficult and dangerous.

“Very well,” Viserys said. “I will naturalize them all. It is my fault that you wed Laenor to begin with. Had I known then what I know now, I would have blessed your union.”

“Thank you, Father,” Rhaenyra said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Daemon thanked him as well, though Viserys could see the words pained him.

“I do not require thanks for doing what is right. The House of the Dragon must stand strong. Now please, leave me to rest. We will need all our strength to face court tomorrow.”

***

“Muña, why do you look so concerned?” Alyssa asked.

“Remember the serious discussion we had at Dragonstone?”

Alyssa did remember. “Yes. Why?”

“The King knows the truth.”

“But he is our grandsire,” Alyssa said. “Won’t he protect us.”

“Yes, my little dragon, he will,” Daemon said, joining his family in the courtyard. “But you will have to be fierce and strong today.” This, he said to all of his children.

“Like you and Muña?” Alyssa asked.

Daemon nodded and kissed his daughter’s brow. “Yes. You will have to be an example to your siblings.”

Alyssa nodded, and straightened her ebony and scarlet gown. Then she surveyed each of her siblings. After a moment she said, “We are ready, Kepus.”

They filed into the throne room, heads held high, save for baby Aegon, who was being held by his mother.

Alyssa took note of how the amassed crowd surveyed them with intense expressions. Alyssa mimicked her mother’s proud, undaunted expression and took Jace’s hand. As always, her brother was her strength.

Their grandsire, King Viserys, sat on the Iron Throne, with Blackfyre in hand. His Green Queen stood to one side at the foot of the steps, an ugly expression on her pretty face. Alyssa recalled her father’s name for the woman, though the word was not ladylike.

Viserys stood and called for silence.

“I, Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, welcome my grandchildren to the Red Keep.”

Alyssa raised her chin and caught her grandsire’s blazing eyes.

“Princess Alyssa Targaryen,” Viserys said. As she had been instructed, Alyssa approached the throne and knelt before the king.

“Prince Jacaerys Targaryen.” Jace followed suit.

“Prince Lucerys Targaryen.” Luke copied his brother, though appeared distinctly nervous.

“Princess Visenya Targaryen.” Visenya, bold and brash as her name sake, even at the young age of four, knelt before the king, her amethyst eyes blazing with pride.

“Prince Joffrey Targaryen.” Joffrey toddled up and joined his siblings.

“And finally, Prince Aegon Targaryen.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon joined the line of children.

“They are all true Princes and Princesses of the Realm. They are the blood of the dragon.”

And people in the hall began to applaud, though Alyssa noticed that not everyone appeared happy. Still, the court honored her and her siblings, and Alyssa knew that they would be treated as true born sons and daughters. She also knew, though, that those who disapproved of her mother would work to discredit them. She could tell by the grave expression on the Queen’s face, and her emerald green dress. Her children, Helaena and Daeron were dressed in green as well. It was such a stark contrast from the colors of House Targaryen that it had to mean something.

[youareunbearable]

Headcannon that Celebrimbor and Thranduil were childhood Frenemies because I don't like how the Mirkwood Elves were left out of everything that happened so pls enjoy this fliclet

---

Once the Feanorians touched down in Hithlum, Thingol sent his younger brother's brother in law Oropher to be his ambassador. Oropher, of course, brings his son Thranduil along because this is a great chance for diplomatic training

Maedhros, this is during the time Morgoth is sending his own persistent ambassadors, thinks it would also be a great time to start Celebrimbor on diplomatic training, because before this he was just in the forge with Curufin and Feanor. And it doesn't look like the rest of the Sons of Feanor are going to have kids so he'll be inheriting the crown one day.

So Celebrimbor and Thranduil are pushed together on children "play dates"

They hate it, they always fight with each other and have competitions and as soon as they see each other they will throw down and scream new insults they learned since the last time they met. Sometimes they spent entire visits only speaking to each other in their own native tounges and mock the other for not properly understanding what they are saying. This particular game didn't last long, but Tyelpe did become the first of the Noldor to speak Sindarin fluently with no accent and Thranduil enjoys the annoyed tick in Galadriel's typical serene expression when she hears him speak flawless Quenya with a Feanorian lisp

Oropher is concerned, being the youngest of 4 he never had an antagonistic relationship with any of them. But Maglor (the new depressed Noldor High King) just gives a small smile and shrugs. He grew up with 6 brothers and even more half cousins. Little Tyelpe and Thrandy are just playing like boys and future best friends do

And they keep up this frenenimes relationship even after Curufin moves them to Himland. When it gets sacked during Dagor Bragollach and Curufin, Celegorm, and Celebrimbor all flee south to their cousins home, Thranduil sends them some relief supplies. When Celebrimbor disown his father, Thranduil comes to visit and generally be annoying until Celebrimbor can stop feeling like shit

When Thranduil, his parents, and their people leave eastward after Thingol's death but before the second Kinslaying (for Oropher is older then the Sun and Moon, he is not about to be led by a boy not even in his 30th year, Maiar blood or not, and many Sindar agree with him) Celebrimbor travels with them and secures them safe passage through the Blue Mountains.

They both grieve when they hear of the Second Kinslaying, then the Third, and then when the East sinks under the waves. Not many in Lindon support Celebrimbor wearing the eight pointed star again, but Thranduil just rolls his eyes and tells him red looks dreadful with his complexion

During the Second Age when Thranduil gets married, Celebrimbor is invited to the wedding and vis versa when Celebrimbor marries Narvi

(Both marriages involve lots of teasing over their partners of choice. Thranduil laughs over the fact that of course a Noldor would marry a Dwarf, they are basically the same, what with their love of rocks and metal work. Celebrimbor rolls his eyes and snorts that he's surprised Thranduil didn't end up marrying an Ent, what with his love of trees, but he supposes that marrying a lady named "tree maid" is close enough. What next? Will he name his children "sapling" or "twig" or "leaf"? Thranduil shoves him off his chair, spilling wine all over the table and floor and growls that at least his children will have original names, and not share a name with two of his forefathers like Men)

They visit each other a lot during the second age, and Thranduil tries to help him as best he can during the fallout of Narvi's death, and when Celebrimbor is designing his rings of Power with that suspicious Maiar of his (who Celebrimbor SWEARS is helping him craft to work through the grief he has no other intentions) he had Thranduil (or Oropher) in mind when he created Vilya

When Thranduil heard about what happened to his friend and his land during the War of Elves and Sauron he grieved deeply. The only thing he had to remember his friend by was some forgotten blueprints of unfinished jewelry, an Age worth of letters (mostly written in Quenya, he of course had replied in proper Sindarin), a clumsy eight pointed star he laughingly embroidered onto the breast of Thranduil's favourite robe, a set of Sindarin long knives overly embellished with Noldorian swirls, and a box of white gems Celebrimbor hand crafted and left with a promise to come back once he finished his rings and use them to make a matching crown set for Thranduil and his wife to wear whenever he inherited the crown

("There may be even enough left over for a third crown. For your 'little leaf' to grow into whenever you two get around making one." Thranduil's wife laughed with Celebrimbor and sent her husband a leer that set his ears ablaze and Tyelpe's laughter began anew)

And enough regrets to haunt him for Ages. It seemed like bad things always came in three. Celebrimbor, his father, his new homeland. Thranduil led his people north, away from everything he had loved, and kept what remained close to his chest. After his wife was slain shortly after the birth of his son, he refused to lose anyone else. Greenwood the Great began to mirror his grief and became Mirkwood

It was almost another another Age before he decided to commission the Dwarves of Erebor to turn those precious white gems into the crowns Celebrimbor intended. Not for him and his now dead wife, but maybe for Legolas and his future partner. (His little leaf, he could hear Celebrimbor's laughter every time Legolas calls himself "Legolas Greenleaf" with that cheeky grin of his) And if Celebrimbor couldn't make them himself, he would be happy to let his Dwarven friends do the job for him

Thranduil almost burned down the mountain himself when they withheld those gems and one of the last pieces of his dear friend from him

Under the bone deep fear of watching a dragon from his nightmares sack the kingdom, he was a little pleased. Jewel thieves get their due

(He knows that Celebrimbor never swore his grandfather's Oath, but sometimes late at night he wonders if he still carried the curse of it. If that Oath and the Curse of Feanor are the reason his dearest friend died that awful way he did)

It was the beginning of a forth age when those sparking white gems were finally turned into the crowns they were destined to be. And Thranduil could almost hear Celebrimbor's delighted laughter as he watched his only son and heir, his little leaf, marry a dwarf.

When it came time to sail, Thranduil stayed with his people, he has coveted them for so long he now refused to leave unless he was forced too. Legolas, who had somehow made a small boat that could barely withhold the waves of the Western Sea, was greeted with a welcoming and joyful embrace by the Elf he only heard stories about

"Hail Celebrimbor, Lord of Eregion, Crafter of the Rings Of Power, Husband of Narvi son of Vilarvi of Durin's Folk, and most importantly, the dearest friend of my father!" Legolas greeted in flawless Quenya with a very noticeable Feanorian lisp. The gathered crowd twitched a little and Elrond (who was hoping of news of his sons) gave a sigh. "I have much to say, and so does my husband Gimli, but first I must give you my father's message!"

Legolas cleared his throat, and then with mock superior expression, one that made him look just like Thranduil, he said: "Celebrimbor you Spider Spawn of the Shadow, if you worked on my crown instead of those thrice damned Rings like you said, my son would never have married a Dwarf. Once I am reborn you better start running because I am going to burry you in my forest and chop down the tree you become with my anger alone!"

There was a startled gasp of silence on the shores of Valinor, before Celebrimbor burst into peels of joyful laughter. Legolas smiled at his honorary uncle and laughed with him

"As you can see, father missed you very much"

[nordleuchten]

Do you know if any information about Lafayette's first daughter, Henrietta? I know she died very young. I was wondering if Lafayette ever wrote about this with his wife or anyone else.

Hello Anon,

yes, we do have some details about little Henriette and there are also written accounts between La Fayette and Adrienne about Henriette - both before and after her death.

Henriette Catherine Charlotte was born on December 15, 1775, the first child of the Marquis de La Fayette and his wife Adrienne. Henriette died tragically young October 3, 1777 of a fever. She was named in honour of her grandmother, Henriette Anne Louise d’Aguesseu, the duchess d’Ayen.

La Fayette to Adrienne, March 7, 1777:

But you know my heart, or at least its sincerity, and you will believe me, I trust, always, when I assure you that it loves you forever, with the strongest and most tender affection. Kiss our dear Henriette twenty times for me.

La Fayette to Adrienne, March 16, 1777:

Good-bye, good-bye, write to me often, every day. Embrace our dear Henriette. And, moreover, you are pregnant, all of which adds to my torment.

La Fayette to Adrienne, April 19, 1777:

Give our Henriette a hug for me. Take good care of our other child. I hope to be reunited soon with my whole family. Write to me at once, my address is Major General ...

La Fayette to Adrienne, May 30, 1777:

Now, dear heart, let us speak of more important things: let us speak of you, of dear Henriette, of her brother, or her sister. Henriette is so lovable that she gives me a liking for daughters. Whatever our new child may be, I shall welcome it with great joy. Do not lose a moment in hastening my happiness by informing me of its birth. I do not know if it is because I am a father for the second time, but I feel more like a father than ever.

La Fayette to Adrienne, June 19, 1777:

Hug Henriette for me; may I say, dear heart: hug our children for me? Those poor children have a father who is something of a rover, but who is basically a good and honorable man, a good father who truly loves his family, and a good husband also, because he loves his wife with all his heart.

La Fayette to Adrienne, July 23, 1777:

I have no space left for my Henriette--or may I say, for my children? Embrace them, dear heart, embrace them a hundred thousand times. I shall always share those embraces.

La Fayette to Adrienne, October 1, 1777:

You must become my voice, dear heart, in all that you say for me to Henriette, my poor little Henriette; hug her a thousand times, speak to her of me, but do not say all the bad things about me that I deserve. My punishment will be not to have her recognize me upon my arrival; that will be the penance Henriette will impose upon me. Has she a sister or a brother? It does not matter to me, as long as I have the pleasure of being a father a second time, and I hear about it soon. If I have a son I shall tell him to examine his own heart with care. If he is at all tenderhearted, and if he has a wife whom he loves as I love you, I shall advise him not to be carried away by enthusiasms that will take him away from the object of his affection, for that affection will then be the source of a thousand torments.

La Fayette to Adrienne, October 20, 1777:

I shall find my poor little Henriette a very amiable child when I return. I hope she will give me a lecture (on my silly military adventure), and speak to me with all the candor of friendship. For my daughter will always be, I hope, my best friend. I want to be a father only for love, and paternal love goes marvelously with friendship. Give her a hug, my dear-should I say, give them a hug?-for me.

La Fayette to Adrienne, November 6, 1777:

Oh, my dearest, how cruel it is to suffer from this frightful uncertainty about an event so important to my happiness. Do I have two children? Has a second object of my affection joined my dear Henriette? Hug my dear little daughter a thousand times for me, hug them both very tenderly, my dearest; I hope they will one day know how much I love them.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 1, December 7, 1776–March 30, 1778, Cornell University Press, 1977, p. 26-28, 32-33, 47-49, 56-60, 60-65, 67-68, 114-119, 136-139, 142-145.

I decided to include a number of quotes to showcase that La Fayette was indeed a loving father, that he really loved his children and was deeply concerned for their welfare and involved in their lives. We also see that the thought that Henriette, who was still very young when her father left France for America, would not recognizes him was in a very real sense agonizing for him. In the letters that I have access to, Henriette is mentioned only once more afterwards.

La Fayette to Adrienne, June 16, 1778:

What a dreadful thing is absence! I never experienced before all the horrors of separation. My own deep sorrow is aggravated by the feeling that I am not able to share, and sympathise in your anguish. The length of time that had elapsed before I heard of this event had also increased my misery. Consider, my love, what a dreadful thing it must be to weep what I have lost, and tremble for what remains. The distance between Europe and America appears to me more enormous than ever. The loss of our poor child is almost constantly in my thoughts; this sad news followed that of the treaty, and while my heart was torn by grief, I was obliged to receive, and take part in of public joy. (…) If the unfortunate news had reached me sooner, I should have set out immediately to rejoin you; but the account of the treaty, which we received the first of May, prevented my leaving this country. The opening campaign does not allow me to retire. I have always been perfectly convinced, that by serving the cause of humanity, and that of America, I serve also the interest of France. (…) Kiss our little Anastasie a million times. Alas, she is all that is left to us. I feel that my once divided fatherly affection is now completely for her; take great care of her. Farewell, I do not know when my letter will leave, and I doubt that it will reach you.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 1, December 7, 1776–March 30, 1778, Cornell University Press, 1979, p. 77-79.

Now, Henriette died on October 3, but it took a very long time for the sad news to reach La Fayette in America. Because of this, La Fayette still had written several letters asking how Henriette was after she had passed - I can not and honestly do not want to imagine what these letters, however well meant, must have done to Adrienne who had just lost her daughter and still received instructions to hug or kiss her from her oblivious husband.

There is not much to be found about Henriette in later letter or documents. Probably because losing your child is a very, very painful experience that can make it hard to put anything of what you feel to paper. But many of the early publications of letter and memoirs were also overseen by the surviving children of the La Fayette’s and it is not hard to imagine that they wanted to keep certain aspects of their family life private. During the American War of Independence it was also hard to write letters because there was often no reliable postage-service and it was not uncommon for letters to be intercepted.

I hope this helped and I hope that you have/had a lovely day!

[josefavomjaaga]

Auguste of Bavaria, vice-queen of Italy, and her two daughters, usually referred to as “mes petits choux” or “mes deux anges” by their father, Eugénie (7 months, sitting on Mama’s arm) and Joséphine (3, clearly not interested in the geography of Hungary that her mother is trying to teach her). Painting by Andrea Appiani

***

During the Austrian campaign of 1809, Eugène for the first time was separated from wife and children for a longer period of time. Perfect husband that he was (in Auguste’s eyes at least), he wrote to her at every occasion. Some excerpts:

July 18:

Good morning, my dear Auguste. My first thought, as every day, is for you and my beautiful children. [...] I know that the emperor was kind enough to announce the armistice to you through one of his squires; I only learned of it thirty-six hours later, and during this time I was fighting on the March, so that the last cannon shots were for me.

July 19:

[…] Last night, Tuesday, I was thinking about our little games and regretting them very much. I hear that in Eisenstadt I will be very well off; they say there is a superb park with plenty of game; I will hunt every morning, work afterwards and think of my little family all day.

July 22:

Here I am back from my journey, my dear Auguste, and I hasten to give you my news, which is very good. [...] I saw Louis [Ludwig, Auguste's brother] this morning; he has improved a great deal since I last saw him; we lunched together at the Emperor's; I hope we shall see each other often during the few days I shall be here; you can well imagine who we talked about. You have been the constant subject of our talks, as you are always the subject of my thoughts. The news of Eugenie's two teeth has given me great pleasure, and everything leads us to believe that she will also be able to get all her teeth. [...] Farewell, my dearest Auguste, I hope that we will no longer be absent for as long as we have been. I kiss you and my two little sweeties and love you with all my heart. Your faithful husband and friend.

Of course, whenever a writer all of a sudden calls himself “your faithful husband”, I wonder why he feels the need to do that ... but that’s just me.

July 26

I am sending you Bataille with this letter, my good and dearest Auguste. Your name day is coming up, and I hope it will arrive just in time. I am sending you a trifle from Vienna, which I thought was pretty; I wish it to seem so to you. I will not make any new declarations of tenderness and attachment to you for the 3rd of August: these feelings are the same, and will be for all days and all times. I am sending toys to my little angels; I hope that Joséphine will pay you her little compliment and I am sorry I am not there to teach it to her. I see Louis every day; I am even having dinner with him today; this morning I gave him your letter and urged him to answer you by Bataille; he promised me to do so.

July 28

Louis leaves today to visit our last battlefields; he will also go to Austerlitz and Raab. I dined yesterday with Duroc and Bessières; it had been five years since we had been able to reunite this trio. We then wanted to walk in frock-coats on the rampart, but as soon as we arrived a great crowd followed us, because we were recognised; I had already been there the two days before and I had enjoyed the greatest incognito, […]

I guess having such a nondescript face does have its advantages. But as soon as you’re out with Bessières and his hairdo from the last century, no way people won’t recognize you.

August 2

[…] They say that the plenipotentiaries will meet tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, and we don't know any more than that, but what I do know is that I love you with all my heart.

August 3

Today, August 3rd, is your name day, my dearest Auguste, and I think with regret that I am not with you to talk to you about my feelings. How happy everything near you is at this moment! [...] I slept last night at Schœnbrunn, because the theatre play finished late, and this morning I went hunting with the Prince of Neufchatel. We returned for the parade and to lunch with the Emperor. I returned a few hours ago from Schœnbrunn, and I bathed, as it is very hot. Aubert has just told me that your foot is still hurting; why didn't you tell me about it? If you need Aubert, please let me know, I will send him to you immediately. Farewell, my dear Auguste, I like to think that in the midst of the pleasures of your name day, my regrets will have been thought of a little.

All quoted from A. DuCasse, “Memoires et correspondance ... du Prince Eugène”, Volume 6

***

As for the painting above, Auguste sent it to Eugène on his 28th birthday (September 3) which other than that apparently had gone pretty much unnoticed, even by himself. He writes to her the other day:

September 4

I thank you a thousand times, my dearest Auguste, I have seen Annoni yesterday. I came back here at eight o'clock in the evening tired from the heat of the day and the hours I had been out, not thinking at all that I was already twenty-eight, and as soon as I got down to my lodgings, Annoni was announced to me. You can't imagine how happy I was when he gave me your letter and your charming present; the idea is charming, the portraits are very similar, especially the one of Joséphine; in short, it's all admirable. I shall always carry this pretty picture with me everywhere, it will remind me, each time I look at it, of the happiness I enjoy with my little family. I am going to mount my horse shortly, the Emperor has asked me to pass some more reviews. I am sending Annoni to Vienna, where I shall be late this evening, and I shall keep him for a few days so that I can talk about you at my leisure.

Adieu, my good friend, I have no time to express to you how deeply touched I am by your attention, and how happy you make me. Farewell, my dear Auguste, you deserve and possess all the tenderness of your faithful husband and friend.

[ingeniouscollectionthing]

His Family (Theseus Scamander x Reader)

Request: Hey girl! We need a Theseus x reader with them being a cutesy ass family and kiddos and everything

Pairing: Theseus Scamander x Reader

Warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, too much love my heart is aching, mentions of sex, slightly NSFW but no full smut

You stirred as sleep’s grip slowly loosened around you. Slowly you began to notice the birds chirping happily right outside your window, the sun rays tickling your face. But you didn’t want to get up just yet as you felt the warm body laying behind you, a strong arm wrapped securely around your waist.

Calmly you turned in the arms of your husband, Theseus, snuggling deeper into his chest as a sound of contentment made its way through his mouth, his arms now completely engulfing you as he felt your delicate fingers massaging his head. You lived for these little moments, just the two of you sharing an unbreakable bond of your undying love for each other. Your legs tangled together, both of your hearts beating in unison as your chests pressed against one another, naked warm bodies touching. The both of you basked in your little bubble of love and contentment. 

The opening of your bedroom door made you finally open your eyes. Confused you looked around as your sight slowly focused. The pitter patter of little feet trying to sneak around made you smile and surely enough two little heads with curly auburn hair appeared at the foot of your bed. 

Egan and Niles, splitting images of their handsome father, had their favourite stuffed animals – gifts from uncle Newt – in their little grasps, both just woken up from wonderful dreams full of unimaginable beautiful, magical things.

“Shhhhhh mommy, we want to wake up Daddy”, your oldest son whispered, while your youngest put his finger in front of his lips in a silencing motion. Both of them looked at you, giving you their signature puppy dog eyes they unfortunately inherited from you, before you beckoned them into bed.

Egan, 6 years old, crawled straight over his fathers’ body until he reached his face, starting to pepper it in little kisses. Theseus immediately cracked a beautiful smile as he finally opened his sparkling blue eyes, searching for yours instinctively, before he turned onto his back, surprising little Egan. Softly Theseus tickled his firstborn, enjoying his carefree laughter before he snaked his arm around him and pulled him down onto his chest, planting a little kiss on his forehead. Egan instantly cuddled into him, sighing as Theseus ran his hand along his back soothingly.

Meanwhile Niles, your 4-year-old, crawled in between your bodies, smiling tiredly up at you, as he snuggled into your side and putting his tiny hand against your belly, while you started to run your fingers through his hair. A blissful silence embraced your little family, the only sound being the soft snoring of your boys falling back asleep. Both, you and Theseus shared a smile, as he carefully laid Egan down beside Niles. You gently draped the blanket over them, before scooting closer to your children as Theseus put both of his arms around all of you, trapping his family in a protective hold.

“Good morning, my wife”, Theseus whispered in a hoarse morning voice, sending you a kiss over the heads of your sons.

“Good morning, my dearest husband.”, his hand wandered up to your cheek, stroking softly while you leaned into it. “Did you have a nice sleep, Theseus?”, you asked, watching your precious boys cuddle with each other.

“The best I slept in a long time. I’m not used to sleeping without you in my arms anymore. I’m so happy to be back home with you, darling”.

Theseus just returned from a mission in Paris. It was torture – a whole month without getting to hold you at night, without getting to see your face when he woke up. He missed you dearly, almost losing control and playing with the thoughts of abandoning his whole team just to take you and his beautiful baby boys back into his arms – his family. Still he pushed through it and as he finally went through the door of your beautiful home, all worries instantly vanished when Egan and Niles tackled him forcefully to the floor, holding onto him for their dear life. And lastly, as his eyes landed on your form approaching him, Theseus nearly started crying at witnessing how your belly slightly seemed bigger than before. He took you carefully into his arms, breathing in the comforting smell of roses and lilac emitting form your soft hair. No words needed to be said, only a soft loving kiss was shared. The rest of the evening was spent with hot chocolate and numerous children’s books being read, while Niles babbled on about how he too would get to be a big brother now.

And eventually, as night-time arrived, all the pent-up feelings surfaced and your dearest husband took you to bed. Theseus spent every second mapping out your body the way he remembered it. The picture of you was burned clearly in his mind, yet he still couldn’t get enough of you. He couldn’t help himself, gently caressing your protruding belly while lying behind you, softly moving in and out of your warm, inviting walls. He adored the way you silently whimpered for him; he adored the way your nails clamped into his arms around your body while your walls tightly clenched around him, luring out a breathless groan from him. It was a magical night, full of passion and lust, as you were lost in an all too familiar dance until the early morning hours.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, These’, you’re home now. Safe and sound”.

“I know, beautiful.”, he sighed closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of his family in his arms. 

His fingers softly brushed against your belly, coming to still over the little hand still lying there.

“You could’ve written that we’re awaiting a new addition to the family, you know?”, Theseus said, a teasing smile now adorning his face.

“Where would’ve been the fun in that?”, you teasingly replied, making him chuckle slightly.

You shared one last longing kiss, before you carefully made your way out of bed, leaving the now awake boys cuddling with your husband.

“Pancakes, coffee and fresh orange juice?”, you asked strutting over to the closet and putting on Theseus’ favourite blue summerdress.

“Yaaaayyy that’s my favouwite, mommy”, little Niles said excitedly, sitting straight up. 

“Can I help you with breakfast mommy?”, Egan now asked, while playing curiously with the fingers of his fathers hand.

“Why don’t you stay in bed with daddy for a bit? You know how much he loves cuddling”, you responded, heart doing a flip at your adorable babies.

Both of them squealed immediately turning to Theseus and trapping him in a typical Scamander bear hug.

Theseus P.O.V.

“You’re an angel, darling”, I shook my head, an adoring spark glinting in my eyes as I watched you leaving the bedroom, your melodious laugh making my heart flutter. 

A few more minutes, before I join her, I thought, cradling both Egan and Niles in my arms, catching up on the missing father-son time.

Half an hour went by, the smell of fresh pancakes and coffee wafting through the house. Egan and Niles already left by now, happily playing away in the living room under their mother’s watch. I stood in the shower, washing away every last remaining bit of the mission. A loud laugh resounded from downstairs, making me grin. 

God how I missed this. I’ve finally got everything I’ve ever dreamed of. A supporting, amazing, beautiful wife, soon three unbelievable cute and behaving children, a house…Money to support my family.. And still I miss out on most of it… And what if one day, I won’t be able to come back to this? What if…, I sighed, defeated by all of my thoughts. 

I turned off the shower, stepping out in front of the mirror, drying myself with a fuzzy towel. I starred longingly at my reflection, picturing a future me where I could be home for all of this, where I could fully witness my children growing up and leaving for Hogwarts, taking you out on dates and spending passionate nights together everyday – just like we used to before I became famous Head Auror. For a brief second, I thought I could see my reflection nodding at me, as if saying that my next thoughts would be the right thing to do.

“Theseus!” your voice sounded from the bottom of the stairs, “Breakfast is ready!”

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time for me to retire… maybe just take on desk work, instead of going out into the field… Merlin, it sounded so right.

No P.O.V.

You watched as your boys already dug into their breakfast hungrily, blabbering away about this and that. Dressed in their day clothes, you almost swooned. They resembled their father unbelievably much, from their gentlemanly behaviour to their dashing looks. You were a proud mother, indeed, you thought as you stroked your belly absentminded. While you started purring two cups of coffee, swaying your hips to the soft jazz music in the background, the smell of your husbands’ expensive cologne reached your nose, his arms wounding around you. Soft wet kisses landed on your shoulder.

You turned, starring into the ocean blue eyes of your Theseus, your arms snaking up his broad shoulders along his suspenders until they locked behind his neck. You stood on your tiptoes, still not quite reaching him, making him laugh and tilt his head, his lips catching yours in a slow and sensual kiss. You were lost in the moment, Theseus’ hands stroking all along your small baby belly and waist, while yours tangled in his still wet locks of auburn hair.

“Ewwwwww mommy and daddy, that’s gross”, Egan shouted, making you instantly break apart and laugh at your sons behaviour.

“Oh so you get to steal kisses from mommy and daddy doesn’t?”, Theseus teased him, as he strutted over to the table to take his seat at the head of it.

“Mommy’s kisses awe only fow us”, Niles said, puffing out his chest in a proud manner and making Egan do the same thing.

“Alright, alright. I’ll give up, I surrender. No mommy kisses for me anymo-“, you interrupted him as you pressed a long loud smooch on Theseus’ cheek before setting down his cup of coffee in front of him. Your boys laughed at their fathers surprised expression.

“Oh you spoil me, darling..”, he sighed adoringly, taking your hand in his while you sat down beside him. As always, the breakfast was quite eventful, your boys talking non-stop and laughing so much it made their parents’ hearts almost melt. Theseus cherished moments like these, getting to sit here and spending time with his family, as all of you started into your day. Also he loved how easy it always was to talk to you, conversation flowing freely about various stuff. Gossip over the neighbours and his work, things that needed to be fixed in the garden, baby names… 

“Mommy, daddy, are me and Niles allowed to play with the Nifflers in the garden?”, Egan asked, excitedly jumping up and down in his chair. The little Baby-nifflers living in your garden were a gift from Uncle Newt and Auntie Tina. You could still remember how brightly their eyes sparkled as they got to care for something so small and fantastic.

“Of course, boys. But don’t give them too much to eat again, you hear me?”, Theseus agreed, watching them as they sprinted outside through the glass doors in your living room leading out into your backyard.

Both of you smiled lovingly. Theseus’ mind went back to the thoughts he had in the bathroom earlier; the taste of the word ‘retirement’ not as bitter on his tongue the more he thought and the more he watched his boys running around the garden.

He slowly came back to reality though, shooting up from his chair as he realized that you already started cleaning off the table. He immediately cleared the rest of it, before bringing the last dirty dishes back into the kitchen. Both of you worked in comfortable silence, stealing small kisses here and there until everything looked flawlessly clean again – how both of you liked it.

Just as you were about to tend to your many flowers, Theseus grabbed your wrist and maneuvered you back to him. He just wanted to hold you once again, taking you into his strong arms, your head finding its place just underneath his chin. You fit together perfectly this way, like puzzle pieces finally finding together. Slowly you both moved to the music sounding in the background, basking in the feeling of your love.

“Theo…”, you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Theo, darling?”, Theseus now looked down at you, his heart doing a little giddy dance of his own. He felt like he was in Hogwarts all over again, at the Yule ball  he first asked you out at.

“Yes, Theo.”, now you looked up at him, leaning your chin on his strong chest. “It would be a perfect name for a boy or a girl, don’t you think?”

You watched as his smile turned into a full grin, before he picked you up and spun you around.

“Sounds perfectly fitting, dear”.

After that conversation the whole day just went by in a blur and you ended it the same way as the night before. Egan and Niles already slept soundly in their rooms, while Theseus and you found yourselfs in the same position as last night – naked, your legs tangled together beneath the tussled sheets. Your breathings finally returned to normal, but the burning feeling of your husbands’ hands on your body still remained. You weren’t ready yet for sleep to whisk you away.

“You know I kind of had a little conversation with myself today”, Theseus admitted, stroking along your warm skin, making you shiver.

“Oh? What did you talk About then?”, a teasing, carefree tone in your voice. Your nails now softly raked down his already red back, while Theseus settled in between your legs, his half hard member brushing your swollen sex. He propped himself up on one of his hands, as to not crush you and your belly. The other stroked back streaks of hair hanging in your face.

“About retirement”, he bluntly stated. A gasp left your lips – never had you thought that your proud auror husband would ever want to give up his work. Unsurely where this was supposed to go, your hand went into his hair, stroking his scalp and motioning him to continue.

“You know, I just thought about resigning from my position in the active field”, he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “After all, I’ve got a family waiting for me at home. I don’t think I could spend so much time away from you again – I want to be here, I want to live out my life here to the fullest – with you”, and suddenly you moaned out, as his member pushed through your waiting walls.

Theseus kissed you; once, twice, before he started to move.

You couldn’t form any words; the love and happiness, the passion and lust all washed through you at the same time, deeming you unable to form any useful sentences. So as you gazed into eachothers eyes, you held onto one phrase, that would surely get your thoughts across –

“I love you.”

And together, Theseus and you got lost in the sensual moves of that beautiful, familiar dance.

Soooo because the name Theseus is of greek origin meaning “to set, to place” and a mythical king, i thought that giving the children equal meanings to their names would be fitting. Egan means “little fire”, Niles basically holds the meaning of “people’s Victory” and Theo (a male Name, but also fitting for girls) meaning “divine gift”.

ingeniouscollectionthing🐍

[ofstarsandfireflies]

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this movie, but how could I not put it on the list?

Addams Family

A creepy and kooky family get a surprise visitor.

Stephen’s family takes after his last name.

Truly, in every sense of the word.

Peter would seem like the only normal one if he wasn’t climbing on the walls half the time to avoid Harley shooting his potato gun at him, which he often swaps out the potatoes for bombs half the time.

The explosions he can deal with, and the mess they make is quickly cleaned up again.

They’re still kids and he wants them to have as much fun as they possibly can.

They’re just energetic and highly spirited, like their father.

Speaking of Tony...Stephen is just as much head over heels for him today as the first time they met and destroyed a planet together almost twenty years ago.

Sparks literally flew that day, and it was a wonder they even survived it with how they couldn’t keep their eyes off one another.

Stephen proposed that very night and they’d been in wedded bliss ever since.

He would die for him.

He would kill for him.

And every morning he lets Tony sleep in because the man deserves it.

Especially since every night leaves him exhausted.

And sometimes during the day too.

Most time’s during the day.

They can’t get enough of one another.

And Tony is more than happy to deal out just as much as he receives, always kissing Stephen’s hands first and working his way up his arms to his mouth so Stephen knows Tony loves those scars just as much as the man who wears them.

But today, after the kids have gone to school, Stephen can’t help but become distracted.

Today is the anniversary of when the Ancient One left the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme, this Sanctum and all its secrets, to Stephen Strange.

He’s guilt ridden at not being able to save her from that portal that swallowed her up, distracted and angry that he knew so little of his magic back then.

Tony misses her too, for without her, he would never have met Stephen in the first place.

Tony knows he is Stephen’s anchor, every year on this day.

And without Tony, Stephen knows he would have drifted a long time ago.

They get regular visits from Shield agents, just checking in to make sure their little family doesn’t want to rejoin the Avengers, but Tony’s made his decision to leave all that behind and he’s not changing his mind.

However, some of these agents actually work for Hydra, and when Sitwell comes knocking one day, he knows they all have to be crossed off the list.

And exactly how to do it.

That night, a woman looking exactly like his old teacher comes to the Sanctum.

While Tony is a little skeptical about her sudden appearance, and his kids seem to be too, Stephen has gotten out of the slump he’d been in for so long, so Tony decides to take this as a win.

But when everyone’s getting ready for bed, Tony lets himself into her room to warn her.

If she isn’t who she claims to be, and Stephen gets hurt because of it, there won’t be any cave, crevice or crack she can squirm her way into that Tony won’t find.

And once he’s found her, he’ll make sure she’s never found again.

Then he wishes her goodnight and closes the door behind him.

It’s a little rocky at the beginning when Stephen keeps asking questions she doesn’t have the answers to, even agent Sitwell doesn’t have anything satisfactory to say about where she’s been all this time.

But Sitwell can’t let them throw this ‘Ancient One’ out.

She’s a Winter Soldier.

One trained to adapt to its surroundings and gather intel on its targets before killing them.

So he tells them to give her some time to adjust. Maybe after a couple of days or so, she’ll fit right in.

But by the very next day, everyone in the Sanctum isn’t so sure this woman is their old friend.

The cloak of Levitation and Wong both seem to be confused as to why her memory is so incomplete.

Surely something would have come back by now?

Even if she can’t remember who they are, she only ever drunk one kind of tea.

Even if she can’t remember all of her training, surely she must remember some of it

But no.

There’s nothing.

Stephen even gives her a sling ring to make a portal with and she doesn’t know what to do with it.

He has half a mind to do what she did to him to make her create one, but he’s too upset to think straight.

He has to come to terms with the knowledge that it might not be his old teacher after all.

Sitwell tries to change his mind, twenty years is a long time to be trapped wherever she was, but Stephen isn’t having it.

That woman is an imposter and he won’t have her in this Sanctum.

Even though she doesn’t feel as welcome as she had been in the beginning, she finds that the kids have really warmed up to her.

They had been brought up on stories about her, and had always refered to her as their aunt.

And she’s never been called aunt before.

But she has a mission.

But she doesn’t want to harm them. Seeing them all, the love that they have for one another (excessive in Stephen and Tony’s case) is unlike anything she’s ever seen before.

And, while she may not remember them completely, she knows their faces, knows they had something to do with her past, and wants to stay to uncover that truth about herself.

She begins drinking the tea she loved.

She begins paying more attention to what she can remember.

And when Stephen hands her a sling ring one last time before he makes his decision, she makes a portal to the very mountain she left him stranded on.

Stephen can’t believe it.

It’s actually her.

So he decides to invite everyone who knew her, everyone who has missed her just as much as he had, to a party at the Sanctum.

But before the big night, Sitwell has had enough of the delay.

He doesn’t know why she hasn’t killed them all yet.

She tells him it’s not time yet, but Sitwell has lost all patience with her.

If she won’t kill them, then he has to move them somewhere where they can be killed easier.

And he knows just how to do it.

This Sanctum would come in very handy training Sorcerers for Hydra, and seeming how he has the Ancient One, the one who rightfully owns this Sanctum, he can move this family of freaks out and deal with them later.

But wrath hath no fury like a Tony scorned, who’s heard everything Sitwell just said.

He’s not going to allow his husband to go through that horrible depression again, and he’s not going to allow his children to live anywhere else but where they’ve called home all their lives.

So he calls Sitwell out on this bs, and Sitwell orders the Ancient One to open a portal.

She doesn’t want to.

She likes living here with this family, but her hands move on their own and they all step through to the Hydra base.

And the cloak sees this and immediately goes to get Stephen.

But the cloak has no idea how to relay this information to him, having no hands to sign and only managing to grab a photo of the family and point erratically to Tony.

Stephen has no clue what it’s trying to say until it takes up his sling ring and begin tapping morse code on the bedside table.

Throwing the cloak over his shoulders, he goes to save his damsel, who is strapped to the very chair where Hydra erase the memories of their Winter Soldiers.

He takes a step to him immediately and freezes when Sitwell emerges from the shadows, pointing a gun at Tony.

He’s going to turn them both into Winter Soldiers to serve Hydra, and then do the same to their kids.

Then he orders the Ancient One to strap Stephen down.

Stephen requests a moment to talk with Tony and Sitwell agrees although he quickly ends it when it becomes disturbingly sexual.

The Ancient One takes Stephen to the next chair, but then notices the cloak.

And takes it from him.

Sitting Stephen down in the chair, she offers him a reassuring smile and sends the cloak at Sitwell, which wraps around him tightly.

Stephen runs to Tony to free him, almost wanting to leave Tony tied up like this, and they get back home safely.

A moment later, the cloak and the Ancient One walk into the Sanctum, quite pleased with how they banished Sitwell to the Dark Dimension.

The day after the party, as Stephen and Tony listen to the explosions almost rocking the Sanctum as if it were classical music, Tony has some good news.

Their adoption papers have finally come through.

They can add a new addition to their family.

Stephen would adopt every single child in the cosmos if it made Tony happy, and Tony expects Stephen to hold that promise.

One child at a time, of course.

Quotes -

“Last night, you were unhinged. You were like some desperate, howling demon. You frightened me...do it again.”

You all know I’m only doing this movie for this quote right here!

“Don’t torture yourself, Gomez. That’s my job.”

Shouldn’t it be They’re kinky and they’re kooky?

“Tish. How long has it been since we’ve waltzed?”

“Hours.”

Tony takes pride in the fact that he and Stephen can waltz anywhere at anytime and they’d both be up for it.

“Morticia. Morticia...what? Slow down! It’s terrible when you stutter! Morticia. In. Danger. Stop. Send. Help. At once. Stop!”

Stephen finally understands what his cloak is trying to tell him.

“Tish. Seeing you like this...my blood boils.”

“As does mine.”

“This wheel of pain...”

“Our wheel.”

“To live without you only that would be torture.”

“A day alone. Only that would be death.”

“Knock it off!”

Your resolved-borderline-obsessed sexual tension is making Sitwell uncomfortable!

“Leather straps...red hot pokers...”

“Later, my dearest.”

Stephen fights against his urges when he sees Tony tied up.

Ancient Lies

Stephen has everything.

A loving husband, two wonderful children, a life where they don’t need to worry about missions and intergalactic threats anymore.

But for as complete as his life, someone is missing from it.

And then she turns up.

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5

Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10

[2manyfandoms2count]

I love you (not) - Chapter 6

Aaaand we're back on the main fic! I am very proud to announce that I managed to fit an AU in here without it being weird (I think). It was really fun to write! Feel free to ask me more about that universe if you feel like it :) Hope you enjoy!

@marichatmay

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

---

Chapter 6: In which we change worlds but it makes sense, I promise

“Princess!”

Marinette stirred in her sleep as she heard the call and the distinct sound of curtains opening. She felt the morning’s soft light warm her face and sighed contently.

“Princess Marinette, you need to wake up! Today’s the day!” The feminine voice called again, closer, this time.

Her eyes flew open and she sat up, feeling her heartbeat quicken with excitement.

“Oh Tikki, you won’t believe how well I slept!” She jumped out of her canopy bed, her white nightdress flowing in her wake as she rushed towards her handmaiden, who stared out of the window. “I really thought I wouldn’t sleep a wink, but really, the herbal tea you gave me worked wonders!"

“I’m glad to hear it! It worked well on Chat Noir, too, apparently. I ran into Plagg, his squire, in the kitchen earlier.”

“Good,” Marinette sighed with relief.

“Come on, now, we need to get you ready!” Tikki took her hand and led her to her dressing table. “How are you feeling about your engagement day?” She asked as she started brushing the princess’ hair.

“Very good. I’m very happy about the outcome of yesterday’s rounds - I know I’m not supposed to have favourites within the contestants but…” Marinette paused, hesitating to say anymore. It wasn’t a matter of trust (she’d known Tikki long enough that the two had become close friends, despite the rank difference); she was just unwilling to criticise the way things were too soon.

“You have every right to be, your Highness. The Joust of Valour explores your suitors’ ability to protect you, but there’s more to marriage than just that. It’s good that you feel comfortable with the two final contestants.” Her handmaiden smiled warmly, starting to braid her hair. “If I may, does your Highness have a soft spot for one contestant in particular? I could pass the message to the relevant people, maybe it would give him some extra luck for today…”

“I don’t, Tikki,” the young lady said firmly. It wasn’t a lie; she’d asked herself who she’d rather see emerge victorious of the tournament as she fell asleep the previous night, but she hadn’t reached a solid conclusion. It was better this way, really. Whatever the outcome, she wouldn’t be disappointed. “Anyway, you said Chat Noir was doing well?...”

Tikki repressed a smile, and told her what she knew.

---

Marinette proudly walked up to her place in the stands, her arm linked to her father’s.

For once, she would be the one sitting front and center of the Royal Balcony, relegating her parents, the King and Queen of the Croissant Kingdom, to the back of the stall with their guest. Neither King Tom or Queen Sabine seemed to mind, though; both were beaming as they waved to the crowd that had travelled for the event. Their cheers lifted the princess’ spirits so much that even the stern figure of King Gabriel of the Butterfly Kingdom failed to make her mood waver. Maybe this was what growing up felt like.

“Mesdames et Messieurs!” The voice of the announcer boomed over the ambient noise. “Welcome to the final round of the Joust of Valour! The joust will soon commence. Sparring for the heart of our beloved Princess Marinette, having victoriously arisen from all their duels, are Prince Adrien from the Butterfly Kingdom, and our local Knight Chat Noir!”

The crowd roared as the two men came forward, leading their horses.

Prince Adrien’s silver armour glistened in the sunlight, and so did his smile as his gaze met hers. Her heart skipped a beat. Her crush on him, which she’d developed during one of their first encounters as children, really hadn’t faded much over the years, despite what her friend, the Duchess Alya, had told her.

On the other hand, Chat Noir’s appearance was a lot starker. His whole armour was black, matte, the whole hint of colour being his forest green spear. There was something radiant about him, though, in the way his tousled blond hair danced in the breeze, in the way his green eyes sparkled with laughter and mischief as he approached the stands, that drew her to him. He’d been at her side for years, valiantly working with her when she’d been taken hostage by one of the Papillon’s sbires. They’d brilliantly defeated him, earning him his knighthood at the age of only fifteen, and a place in her personal guard. Despite her father’s warnings that Marinette shouldn’t meddle with the Papillon’s affairs, Chat Noir still managed to get her involved. They were a team.

“I hope I’ll be up to the challenge, dearest Marinette,” Adrien squeezed the hand she presented to him; she squeezed it back and smiled as she watched him head towards his noble steed.

“My Lady Princess,” Chat Noir bowed reverently before her, “please accept this rose as a token of my affection.” He pulled a pink rose out of seemingly thin air and presented it to her. The crowd gasped delightedly. Then, delicately taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to the back of it with a wink; Marinette felt herself blush.

“Thank you, Chat Noir,” she barely managed to enunciate.

He bowed again, and went to ready himself.

Marinette looked at the rose, and noticed there was a piece of paper wrapped around the stem, maintained by a thorn. She made the most of everybody’s attention on the contestants to unravel it.

My dearest Lady Princess,

I’m sorry.

Love you always, CN

“Princess Marinette will now announce the beginning of the joust!” The announcer declared, startling her as she tried to understand what Chat Noir had meant by his message. She rapidly shoved it in her pocket and stood up uneasily, hoping all the eyes trained on her wouldn’t detect her fluster.

“Best of luck, gentlemen! May the best man win!”

The two horses set off towards each other, spurred on by their riders. The contestants’ spears crashed against each other’s shield, unsettling them a little. Both knights trotted to the end of the track and prepared to set off again.

The crowd oohed and aahed during the next rounds, both men barely wavering at the other’s assaults. Marinette held her breath each time, anxiously awaiting the outcome, only to let out a relieved sigh when neither fell.

Then, as the two men were about to set off again for the thirteenth time, Marinette saw Chat Noir’s helmet turn briefly towards her, and she felt her stomach drop. She didn’t need to see his face to know what was about to happen. The rose slipped out from her fingers as she realised what the note had meant.

As the knight and the prince came up to each other at full speed, Prince Adrien’s jousting spear collided violently with Chat Noir’s chest, and the latter fell to the ground with a deafening clank .

The crowd erupted in clamour as Adrien started to tour the track at a low trot, a victorious smile on his lips. Finally reaching the royal stand, he elegantly jumped off and extended a hand towards her.

“I’m truly honoured to be your future husband, your Royal Highness.”

He kissed her hand before guiding her out of the stand and helped her up to ride his horse with him. She smiled the whole time, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Those were looking for Chat Noir.

---

In the middle of the boisterous banquet, Marinette felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore. She had to get out of the hall, before her plastered smile broke, and she exposed her true feelings.

She excused herself, reassuring Prince Adrien that it must have been her prolonged time in the sun and her unusual mead consumption, and made her way to her quarters.

There, she rapidly grabbed a cloak from her trunk and sneaked out, head hung low until she’d exited the castle’s gates.

She started running. Her legs carried her as her mind raced, as her tear-ducts gave way to her tears.

She hadn’t thought the joust’s outcome would mean so much to her. She thought she’d be happy, whatever happened on the track. But as much as she’d dreamed of this match… It just didn’t feel right.

She tripped and fell to her knees, out of breath, and recognised her surroundings. The clearing had been where Chat and her had been taken hostage, and where Chat took her to practise fencing when he knew no one was looking.

A rustling sound startled her and she put her hands up defensively, although she didn’t feel like getting up.

“Hi, Princess,” Chat Noir emerged from the trees, carrying a bag. “I couldn’t find you in your room, but I figured you’d be here.”

“You had no right to sacrifice yourself like that,” she sobbed, her hands dropping to her knees.

“You know you’ll be much happier with Prince Adrien, Princess.” He smiled sadly. “You two are meant to be - you’d already be betrothed to him, were it not for the Kingdom’s Joust of Valour.”

“You don’t know what would make me happier,” she angrily wiped the tears from her eyes.

“You know I’d do anything for you, my Marinette.” He rushed to her side and cupped her cheek.

“Then run away with me.” She looked straight into his eyes.

“Why?” He whispered, his face inching closer to hers.

“Because Prince Adrien might have my hand…” She started, her breath hitching as she computed their proximity. “... But you have my heart.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she closed the distance between them and…

BIP-BIP-BIP-BIP

Marinette woke up with a start as her alarm clock started blaring. Her heart raced in her chest at the already fleeting memory of her dream. She caught her disappointment at not having witnessed the outcome, and covered her face with her hands. She felt like she was burning up.

She was so confused. The dream had been so out of place. So unexpected. What did it mean? She didn’t love Chat Noir! And she definitely didn’t want to run away with him. How absurd.

She only had a week to hold out for, she thought as she got dressed. It wouldn’t come soon enough.

She didn't know if her heart would survive another trick of her brain.

[butterflies-dragons]

You’ll Be Queen One Day

This is something I wanted to say about the current debate of Queen Sansa.

For a big faction of the fandom, Queen Sansa is only D&D fan fiction and that won’t be Sansa’s endgame in the Books. ¡¡¡NEVER!!!    

According to Bryan Cogman, the man named by GRRM himself as the Keeper of the Lore, hints of Sansa’s Show endgame as Queen in the North were there since the Pilot Episode back in Season One:

BRYAN COGMAN: In the pilot, Sansa’s main function was informing members of her family and the audience that the only thing she wanted was to get out of Winterfell and go live in the big city and become queen—except a very different kind of queen than the one she ended up being. So Sansa’s storyline was always meant to have a note of triumph at the end, especially after all that she went through in the middle of the series. It was appropriate that she came full circle at the end. She was the only Stark left in Winterfell and leads the North into this new chapter. She’s the best hope for the North’s future.

—Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon: Game of Thrones and the Official Untold Story of the Epic Series by James Hibberd

"Winter Is Coming"

“In the pilot, Sansa’s main function was informing members of her family and the audience that the only thing she wanted was to get out of Winterfell and go live in the big city and become queen.”

Please take note that GRRM was very involved in the first four seasons of the Show. Especially the first one, he participated in the casting, he was part of the original pilot, he travelled to filming locations, he wrote one episode per season, etc.  

Season 1, Episode 1: "Winter Is Coming". Directed by Tim Van Patten & Written by David Benioff & D. B. Weiss.

SANSA: Do you think Joffrey will like me? What if he thinks I’m ugly? CATELYN: Then he is the stupidest prince that ever lived. SANSA: He’s so handsome. [CATELYN rolls her eyes.] SANSA: When would we be married? Soon or do we have to wait? CATELYN: Hush now. Your father hasn’t even said yes. SANSA: Why would he say no? He’d be the second most powerful man in the kingdoms. CATELYN: He’d have to leave home. He’d have to leave me. And so would you. SANSA: You left your home to come here. And I’d be queen someday. Please make father say yes. CATELYN: Sansa… SANSA: Please, please. It’s the only thing I ever wanted.

Watch the scene here.

Curiously enough, the immediately previous scene was a scene of Dany, the one where she said to Viserys: “I don’t want to be his [Khal Drogo] Queen. I want to go home.” A scene straight from the Books:

"I don't want to be his queen," she heard herself say in a small, thin voice. "Please, please, Viserys, I don't want to, I want to go home." 

—A Game of Thrones - Daenerys I

What a contrast with Sansa’s scene!

But Sansa’s scene is not from the Books. We don’t have any scene between Sansa and Catelyn at Winterfell.  

Sansa wanted romance more than being a monarch. She certainly was not opposed to marry a prince or a king, but her wishes were more about romance, being a Lady in a song, a wife of a gallant knight, and a mother of future ladies and gallant knights.      

This is what happened in the Books:

“Honors?” Ned laughed bitterly.

“In his eyes, yes,” she said.

“And in yours?”

“And in mine,” she blazed, angry now. Why couldn’t he see? “He offers his own son in marriage to our daughter, what else would you call that? Sansa might someday be queen. Her sons could rule from the Wall to the mountains of Dorne. What is so wrong with that?”

“Gods, Catelyn, Sansa is only eleven,” Ned said. “And Joffrey … Joffrey is …”

She finished for him. “… crown prince, and heir to the Iron Throne. And I was only twelve when my father promised me to your brother Brandon.”

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn II

"Joffrey likes your sister," Jeyne whispered, proud as if she had something to do with it. She was the daughter of Winterfell's steward and Sansa's dearest friend. "He told her she was very beautiful."

"He's going to marry her," little Beth said dreamily, hugging herself. "Then Sansa will be queen of all the realm."

Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily, Arya thought with dull resentment. "Beth, you shouldn't make up stories," Sansa corrected the younger girl, gently stroking her hair to take the harshness out of her words. She looked at Arya. "What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He's very gallant, don't you think?"

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

Catelyn pushed Ned to accept the betrothal while Sansa corrected Beth’s comment about her being Queen.  

* * *

Later in the the Fourth Episode of the First Season, Cogman wrote a scene between Sansa and Septa Mordane where the septa says that Sansa will be Queen someday.

Again, this scene is not from the Books.

"Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things"

Season 1, Episode 4: "Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things". Directed by Brian Kirk & Written by Bryan Cogman.

SEPTA MORDANE: Someday your husband will sit there and you will sit by his side. And one day, before too long, you will present your son to the court. All the lords of Westeros will gather here to see the little prince... SANSA: What if I have a girl? SEPTA MORDANE: Gods be good, you'll have boys and girls and plenty of them. SANSA:What if I only have girls? SEPTA MORDANE: I wouldn't worry about that. SANSA:Jeyne Poole's mother had five children, all of them girls. SEPTA MORDANE: Yes, but it's highly unlikely. SANSA: But what if? SEPTA MORDANE: If you only had girls, I suppose the throne would pass to Prince Joffrey's little brother. SANSA: And everyone would hate me. SEPTA MORDANE: Nobody could ever hate you. SANSA: Joffrey does. SEPTA MORDANE: Nonsense. Why would you say such a thing? That business with the wolves? I've told you a hundred times... A direwolf is not... SANSA: Please shut up about it. SEPTA MORDANE: Do you remember your lessons? Who built the Iron Throne? SANSA: Aegon the Conqueror. SEPTA MORDANE: And who built the Red Keep? SANSA: Maegor the Cruel. SEPTA MORDANE: And how many years did it take to build... SANSA: My grandfather and uncle were murdered here, weren't they? SEPTA MORDANE: They were killed on the orders of King Aerys, yes. SANSA: The Mad King. SEPTA MORDANE: Commonly known as the Mad King. SANSA: Why were they killed? SEPTA MORDANE: You should speak to your father about these matters. SANSA: I don't want to speak to my father, ever. SEPTA MORDANE: You will find it in your heart to forgive your father. SANSA: No, I won't.

Watch the scene here.

* * *

Later in the the Sixth Episode of the First Season, there is a scene between Sansa and Joffrey where the prince says that Sansa will be Queen someday.

Once again, this scene is not from the Books.

"A Golden Crown"

Season 1, Episode 6: "A Golden Crown". Directed by Daniel Minahan. Story by  David Benioff & D. B. Weiss & Teleplay written by : Jane Espenson and David Benioff & D. B. Weiss.

SEPTA MORDANE: My prince. SANSA: My prince. JOFFREY: My lady. I fear I have behaved monstrously the past few weeks. With your permission? Joffrey offers Sansa a necklace. She turns around, for him to put it on her, as acceptance. SANSA: It’s beautiful. Like the one your mother wears. JOFFREY: You’ll be queen someday, it’s only fitting that you should look the part. Will you forgive me for my rudeness? SANSA: There’s nothing to forgive. JOFFREY: You’re my lady. One day we’ll be married in the throne room. Lords and ladies from all over the Seven Kingdoms will come, from the last hearth in the North, to the salt shore of the south. And you will be queen over all of them. I’ll never disrespect you again. I’ll never be cruel to you again. Do you understand me? You’re my lady now, from this day, until my last day. The two share their first kiss.

Watch the scene here.

I think that Sansa & Septa Mordane scene and Sansa & Joffrey scene were written from this Book scene:

“The king is dead.” Sansa could not say how she knew it, yet she did. The slow, endless clanging filled their room, as mournful as a dirge. Had some enemy stormed the castle and murdered King Robert? Was that the meaning of the fighting they had heard?

She went to sleep wondering, restless, and fearful. Was her beautiful Joffrey the king now? Or had they killed him too? She was afraid for him, and for her father. If only they would tell her what was happening …

That night Sansa dreamt of Joffrey on the throne, with herself seated beside him in a gown of woven gold. She had a crown on her head, and everyone she had ever known came before her, to bend the knee and say their courtesies.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

So far we have:

Sansa: “And I’d be queen someday.”

Septa Mordane: “Someday your husband will sit there [Iron Throne] and you will sit by his side.”

Joffrey: “You’ll be queen someday.”

The Sansa and Joffrey scene even got his own theme, a song composed by Ramin Djawadi called: 

You’ll Be Queen One Day

¿Why changing “Someday” for “One Day”? Maybe this curious detail means nothing... Maybe it means something...  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Why reiterate some many times that Sansa will be Queen, if it was clear that Sansa was betrothed with the Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon, the Heir of the Iron Throne?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“—except a very different kind of queen than the one she ended up being.”

This is not the first time that Cogman alluded of that old say that says: “Be careful what you wish for” in regards of Sansa. He said something similar about Sansa’s arc in Season Five, specifically her marriage with Ramsay Bolton. 

Basically, when we decided to combine Sansa’s storyline with another character in the books it was done with the idea that it would be hugely dramatically satisfying to have Sansa back in her occupied childhood home and navigate this Gothic horror story she’s found herself in and, of course, to be reunited with Theon – setting her on the path to reclaiming her family home and becoming a major player in the big overall story. 

This stupid line “hugely dramatically satisfying” is BS of course. Men..........    

I have the impression that after they run out of canon material, D&D, Cogman and all, decided to recycle old plots. Here with Sansa, they basically gave her ANOTHER ONE GOTHIC HORROR STORY.

Since they didn’t like Sansa’s Vale plot as Alayne Stone, they gave Sansa “another lesson” like Kings Landing and Joffrey: “Be careful what you wish for”.

Sansa wished for a Southern Courtly Life with her Prince in Kingslading, and she got a Ghotic Horror Story. 

Sansa started to wish to return North, to Winterfell, to her Home, and D&D, Cogman and all decided to gave her Ghotic Horror Story 2.0 in Winterfell with Ramsay. Sexual abuse included. Men..........        

GRRM uses “Be careful what you wish for” theme very often, you just need to read his tale: “In The Lost Lands” or re-read Cersei’s story with Maggie the Frog. And as I just mentioned, Sansa’s wishes for a life at court in the south with her gallant Prince Joffrey. But D&D are just... not so good adapters.            

“So Sansa’s storyline was always meant to have a note of triumph at the end, especially after all that she went through in the middle of the series.”

¿How the majority of the fandom interpret these Cogman’s words? This way: “Queen Sansa is a reward for Sansa’s Season Five arc.” 

But Season One is four seasons before Season Five, and there were hints since the Pilot Episode... 

The fandom: SANSA WILL NEVER BE QUEEN, ¡¡¡NEEEVEER!!! 

..............................

“It was appropriate that she came full circle at the end. She was the only Stark left in Winterfell and leads the North into this new chapter. She’s the best hope for the North’s future.” 

Full Circle: From wanting to be Queen consort in the South to be the Queen in the North, by her own right.

Sansa’s Show endgame is also very in line with characters getting what they wished for but not in the way they thought. That is like the bit that follows: “Be careful what you wish for” = “You might just get it.” Seriously, go and read GRRM’s tale: “In The Lost Lands.” You can thank me later.     

Please also take note that GRRM has repeatedly said that:

Sansa is a major character. Part of the core that dominates the story.

He knows the endgame of the major characters for decades.

You can read more here.

So, if Queen Sansa is only D&D fan fiction, then WHOA! They planned it all since the very beginning, since the pilot episode itself. How surprising! Especially since GRRM was very involved in the Show back then.  

D&D wrote the pilot: “Sansa’s main function was informing members of her family and the audience that the only thing she wanted was to get out of Winterfell and go live in the big city and become queen.” AND GRRM LET THEM.

Cogman wrote a scene that was not from the Books where Septa Mordane says that Sansa will be Queen someday. AND GRRM LET THEM.

D&D wrote a scene that was not from the Books where Joffrey says that Sansa will be Queen someday. AND GRRM LET THEM.

D&D commissioned Ramin Djawadi to compose a theme for Sansa called: “You’ll Be Queen ONE Day,” for Sansa and Joffrey scene. AND GRRM LET THEM.

D&D wrote that Sansa’s Show endgame was being crowned Queen in the North. AND GRRM LET THEM.

And if you wanna read about Queen Sansa from the Books, please read these posts: Here and Here.

Good night.

[tinybibmpreg]

prompt fill 6/80, #14 - Am I scaring you? ft. Reuben, Elvira, and Viveen. Finally I post something with Reuben after months of promising him lol. Decided in this that he gets not one, but Two demon children. Elvira is thrilled.

Edgar: Reflections

“Am I scaring you?” her stepson whispered, the room around them distorting into a blank, shadowy void. The darkness seemed to come alive, engulfing them in cold. There were lights at the edge of her vision Elvira was certain weren’t actually there at all, and a distinct iron smell filled the air. Blood, though there was none in sight. A chill went down her spine.

She tilted his head up and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You could never frighten me, little one.”

In an instant, the den was back to normal, lit up by the fireplace and basked in its warmth. Everything was in its place. Viveen smiled up at her and reached for her hand, his tail waving back and forth behind him. Elvira took it and he asked, “Can we go where Papa is, Mum?”

“Of course, darling. Lead the way.”

Humming to himself, Viveen led her through the estate. Shadows darkened as they passed. The flames on candles dimmed to a deep red, and the chandelier in the main entryway even seemed to take on a ghastly glow as they walked underneath it. Pictures seemed to watch them as they passed. Mirrors showed dark reflections.

It was all nightmarishly beautiful. Elvira smiled as a full-length mirror took in Viveen’s whole reflection and promptly cracked. Viveen glanced at it and then up at her, nervous. His humming stopped and his tail dropped. He beamed again when she smirked, amused instead of upset. Squeezing her hand, he picked up his pace and sang quietly to himself, “Ring around the rosie-”

Elvira hummed along with him, swinging his arm. Sure, the nursery rhyme wasn’t truly about the black plague, but it suited Viveen so well, singing so cheerily about morbid things.

Viveen brought her to the library. Sitting on a loveseat, buried in a book, was Reuben. Elvira couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her husband, greying hair an unkempt mess, in a patchy old sweater vest she couldn’t convince him to part with, his cracked reading glasses almost slipping off of his nose as he held a book far too close to his face. Viveen let go of her hand to run to his father. “Papa!”

Reuben had barely any time to react before Viveen was practically jumping onto his lap. The book clattered to the ground. Her husband’s expression was one of shock until he realized who was hugging him. He beamed and wrapped his arms around the boy. “Whoa! Careful, Viv, I’m not as tough as your brother or his girl. These old bones aren’t built for your cuddle attacks.” Viveen giggled as his father squeezed him tight and gave him a kiss on the cheek, his tail lashing in excitement.

After letting the two of them settle down a notch, Elvira took a seat beside them, leaning over to retrieve the book. Reuben freed one arm to grab the old novel, giving her a crooked smile of thanks, one that matched his now very crooked glasses that were one nudge from falling off his face. She adjusted them for him.

“Oh! Thank you, Love.” He leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek as well. Viveen laughed as he was tilted along, clinging to his father’s shirt. “Now I read better! Would you like me to read to you, Viv?”

“Can you read to me and Mum, Papa?”

“Of course! Would you like to stay for the story, Dear?”

Elvira smiled and put her hands in her lap. “I would love to hear you read, Darling. What will you be reading?”

“I think this book about architecture might be a bit… not very fun to read. I was trying to get ideas for a new project. Why don’t you go get a book we’ll all like, Viv?”

“I’ll grab a fairytale book!” Viveen hurried to go find a book from the shelves. He passed a reflective trinket on his way and the little glass pyramid on a shelf split in two. Seeing him all excited to be read a story made Elvira very glad to have a young child back in the house. Though they had a few young grandchildren, their children’s visits were too few and far between for Elvira. Ever since Viveen had come to live with them, it’d been wonderful, bringing back so many memories of when her children with Reuben were his age. His curiosity and wonder over everything livened up the home, and it was lovely to see her husband interacting with the boy, to see how happy it made Reuben having Viveen around.

Reuben set down the architectural studies book he’d been reading and watched as Viveen searched for a book.

“Isn’t it nice to have another little one around?” Elvira asked her husband.

“Hm? Ah-” Reuben turned to face her, processing her question a bit late. “It really is. I’m glad Viveen is so happy here. I was worried when Lucy first brought him home…”

Their granddaughter had been the one to find Viveen and bring him to the family home, something Elvira was very thankful for. The adjustment had been difficult at first, with Viveen’s upbringing as a demonic prince of sorts by a group Elvira couldn’t help but refer to as a cult after what Lucy had described, and Reuben being forced to admit he had lied to the family and kept giving birth to Viveen a secret. Though he’d been worshipped, Viveen hadn’t been treated particularly well by his former caretakers, and it had been quite obvious in how Viveen acted the first few months he’d been home.

A difficult adjustment, but an adjustment that had been made. Reuben had opened up and admitted everything to her, explained his reasonings and fears. And Viveen had slowly adapted to a loving family life and was getting the hang of being a slightly supernatural normal child.

His half demonic heritage, however, fit right in with the family aesthetic. As bubbly and bright as Rueben was, all of their children had an affinity for the dark and occult, and Viveen was no exception even if he wasn’t Elvira’s biological child.

With his dark hair and thin face, though, he looked rather like his stepmother. Elvira had lost track of the number of times someone had remarked that Viveen looked just like her. His naturally black fingernails had led their neighbors to ask them if Viveen painted his nails to look even more like his mother, and Viveen had looked so happy to be matching that she hadn’t switched to another color since.

Viveen came over, holding a large, old book. “I found stories!”

“Oh! Grimm’s, an excellent choice. Do you have a story in mind?”

“The one where the boy wants to learn to be scared!”

Reuben took the book and checked the table of contents for the page number, then started flipping to that page. Viveen settled back in between them, eager for the story. “You really like this one, don’t you?”

“I like that he isn’t scared of the ghosts!”

Reuben chuckled, reaching to ruffle Viveen’s hair. “Ready for the story?”

Viveen nodded and curled up against his father. Elvira scooted closer so she could lean in as well.

Reuben started the story, and by the end of it, Viveen, who had started off so excited, was starting to doze off, comfortably snuggled against his father. He had his head over Reuben’s belly and was clinging to his vest. Elvira rubbed the boy’s back until she was certain he was falling asleep.

Then she said in a quiet voice, “It looks like you're stuck, Dearest.”

Reuben gave her a lopsided smile. “He's been trapping me like this all week,” he told her. “He seems to think my stomach is a pillow.”

“It is nice and soft, Darling.” She reached over and patted his belly, careful not to disturb Viveen.

Her husband huffed. “Oh, I guess I’ve gotten soft over the years.”

“It’s a lovely look for you,” she assured him. “You were always such a cuddle bug, it’s only fitting that you’re in the best shape for it.”

He laughed, which woke up Viveen. The boy blinked slowly, lifting his head and yawning. “Oops! Sorry, Viv. Papa didn’t mean to wake you,” Reuben apologized. He gave his son a squeeze and asked, “You ready for a proper nap, Viv?”

Viveen nodded, rubbing his eyes. Reuben coaxed him up and took his hand. Viveen’s tail was limp behind him, dragging as it did whenever he was tired.

Elvira stood and took the boy’s other hand. “Did you enjoy the story, little one?”

“Mhmm. I didn’t hear it all, though.”

“I can read it again once you wake up!” Reuben promised.

Viveen’s tail picked up a bit at that. Then he tilted his head and asked them, “Do you think the baby liked the story too?”

Reuben gave her a confused look. Unsure if Viveen was just too tired or had perhaps dreamed something, Elvira asked him, “What baby, darling?”

Viveen gave her an odd look. “The baby in Papa’s tummy.”

“But… I’m not…?” Reuben thought for a moment. “I certainly haven’t lost any time again. And I can’t be…”

“The baby like me!” Viveen insisted. “It’s like me. I can tell.”

“Reuben…”

He looked nervous. “I, ah, really don’t remember losing time. Surely you would have noticed, El? Are you sure, Viv? Has Papa gone missing again?”

“Yes!” Viveen answered, which Reuben didn’t look thrilled at all to hear. “It was a while ago! When Lucy called Mum and talked about a sighting spot she was going to and I wasn’t supposed to listen.”

That had been over a month ago. At least five or six weeks. “Yes, I remember that call. But I saw your father that morning and evening.”

“I wanted to play with Papa, but he was gone. And he came home before dinner and we sat in the garden until Papa could see me again.”

“I… don’t remember that. When was that?”

“In the middle of June,” Elvira answered.

“Oh. Too early to tell without a test. I guess I’ll have to go get one…” Reuben looked quite frazzled at the knowledge that yet again he’d been chosen to carry a half-demon child. “Well! That’ll be something to think about later! Come on, Viv, let’s get you to bed.”

They brought Viveen to his bedroom and Reuben tucked him in bed and gave him a kiss on the forehead. After shutting off his lamp and closing his door, Reuben leaned against the wall, stress evident on his face.

Even though her husband was shocked, Elvira couldn’t help but smile and ask, “Won’t it be wonderful to have a baby in the house again?”

“Ah… Y-yeah, it will be, huh?” Reuben calmed down, wrapping his arms around his belly. “I did love when our kids were so little. And I didn’t really get to spend much time with Viv when he was tiny before I left him with Shane and Sara.”

“I wonder when Viveen got his powers.”

“We’re not going to be able to have any mirrors or glass in the house,” Reuben groaned. “Viveen still shatters everything if he’s too happy or looks right at it.”

[mordoriscalling]

Life (of) Surprise (4/6)

Jaskier lies to his family about being engaged to Geralt for the second time… and there are way too many surprises involved.

Part 4 of the Singer and the Sailor AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway (again). The chapter count went up again because I just can’t stop writing this story lmao. 

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

IV - A Surprise Discovery

Geralt is certain that a stag do shouldn’t involve this much crying.

The evening started innocently enough. They have had a room rented at a fancy club and they’re drinking, talking and playing cards. Geralt would rather do this at home but Lambert and Eskel told him not to be so “tragically boring”, hence the current arrangement.

Geralt’s been spending the day with “the guys”: Eskel, Lambert, Aiden, Vesemir, as well as his soon-to-be brother-in-law Silvio and not-quite soon-to-be brother-in-law Nasir. Jaskier, on the other hand, is away partying with “the girls”: Rozalia, Amelia, Triss, Essi and Yennefer.

Geralt hasn’t heard from Jaskier in a few hours, so he assumes his soon-to-be husband (only two months left to the wedding, and isn’t that a thought) is enjoying himself. Geralt, for his part, is having fun too; the stag do isn’t a disaster at all.

Then, it gets better.

Because Eskel is crying.

They were talking about Essi, commenting on what a lovely person she is. Although she’s not exactly Geralt’s type (he’s into people who are more... feisty), he still agrees that she’s a great woman – loving, warm, intelligent and beautiful inside out. Vesemir commented that there had to be many people mourning the fact that she was taken.

Eskel, upon hearing this, started weeping.

“Should we tell him?” Aiden, sitting beside Geralt, murmurs to Lambert.

“Nah,” Lambert replies gleefully.

They watch as Eskel sheds tears, mumbling about how much he’s in love with Essi but he wouldn’t dare to ruin her current relationship because she deserves happiness and –

To be fair, they have drunk a lot at this point.

Silvio and Nasir are clearly holding back their laughter. Lambert doesn’t even bother and guffaws freely, to which Eskel pays no mind, so lost he is in his despair. Aiden hides his face in the crook of Lambert’s neck, his shoulders shaking.

Vesemir seems more tired and sick of their shit than usual, though sparks of amusement dance in his eyes.

“I wasn’t aware this relationship makes you cry,” he tells Eskel gruffly, playing along.

“It does!” Eskel whines, “I should be her boyfriend.”

Vesemir’s lips tremor but he manages to keep his cool as he asks, “And what’s her boyfriend’s name?”

Eskel opens his mouth to respond but he says nothing. His brow creases in thought – it’s visible how the wheels are turning in his head – and then the moment comes when something clicks in his brain.

“Wait,” he says, understanding slowly dawning in his face.

At this, everyone at the table collectively loses it. Geralt is laughing so hard he’s slapping his thigh. Silvio and Nasir are in convulsions. Lambert and Aiden are leaning against each other, wheezing. Vesemir has to wipe the tears out of his eyes.

Eskel is too happy at the discovery to even notice the amusement at his expense. “I am her boyfriend!” he exclaims with wonder. Letting out a joyful chuckle, he repeats, “I’m her boyfriend!” He reaches for the bottle of vodka on the table. “We should drink to this!”

At the same time, Vesemir answers, “No.” and Aiden replies, “Yes!”

Vesemir plucks the bottle from Eskel’s hands and says, “You’ve had enough for now, pup.”

Lambert starts arguing and Geralt rolls his eyes. He then proceeds to drag his older brother to the side and force a lot of water and some food into him. While he does this baby-sitting, the phone in his pocket rings. As Geralt pulls it out, he’s surprised to find Jaskier’s name displayed on the screen. Slightly worried, he picks up.

“Hey, my loveliest sailor,” Jaskier slurs, his voice unsteady and watery. “Can I –” A sniff. “Can I come?”

Geralt frowns, bemused. “Shouldn’t we spent this night apart?”

“Fuck that,” Jaskier grumbles, “I miss you.”

“You haven’t seen me in five hours.”

“So?” Jaskier asks. “I just... want to see you. Please?”

Jaskier sounds downright miserable. Geralt has nearly come to terms with the fact that he may never master the art of telling Jaskier no but he's not fully resigned to his fate yet.

“Okay,” he answers.

“Are sure, darling? I won’t come if you don’t want to, you know,” Jaskier babbles nervously, “I don’t want to make you do anything you–”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, “it’s fine, come here and bring the rest.”

Ever since their argument three months ago, Jaskier takes extreme care not to do anything without Geralt’s knowledge and consent. He keeps asking about every little idea, fretting and worrying whether he’s not overstepping. Most days, that’s the reassurance Geralt needs to keep believing in Jaskier's words. It does get tiring sometimes, though.

“All right.” Jaskier’s voice goes from resonating from the darkest depths of sadness to cheerful as the sun on a spring day in the span of those two words. “We’ll be there soon, my dearest.”

Geralt hums and hangs up.

After fifteen minutes more of trying to turn Eskel into a more or less functioning human being, Geralt witnesses the other stag do party members arrive. Jaskier opens the door to the room with a bang, his arms spread wide and a grin on his face.

“Geralt!” he exclaims and walks towards him with a prominent stagger in his step.

Before Geralt knows it, he has his arms full of drunk Jaskier. His fiancé peppers kisses all over his face and mumbles something nonsensical while Geralt holds him up, a smile tugging at his lips under all the loving attention.

In the corner of his eye, he can see the rest greeting each other, apart from Yennefer and Triss, who are watching him and Jaskier with a judgemental and an amused look respectively.

“Why are you here?” he asks Yen as Jaskier finally stops kissing him and embraces him instead.

“He was crying about how much he loves you,” she replies with an eye roll.

Triss snickers. “He was telling everyone about it, and I mean it. He wanted everyone in the club to know.”

Geralt stifles a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yennefer and Triss laugh. Jaskier raises his head and blinks up at him owlishly.

“Something wrong, my gorgeous sailor?” he asks.

Geralt really bemoans the fact that even a single look from Jaskier can affect him considerably.

“No, siren,” he sighs, “We should join the rest.”

They ask the staff to bring another table and more chairs, and soon, everyone is sitting comfortably, talking, playing and drinking. Everyone except Essi when it comes to the last part, at least; Geralt quickly notices that she doesn’t touch any alcohol. She claims that she simply doesn’t feel like drinking but Eskel, who sits beside her, starts fretting, concerned that she’s ill.

“I’m fine,” she assures him.

“You sure?” he asks, “You haven’t been feeling well recently. Maybe you should see a doctor?”

Geralt’s the only one watching the exchange, as everybody else is occupied with the ongoing conversation about the rules of Monopoly. He sees hesitation in Essi’s face. She bits her lip, seemingly considering something for a moment, but then looks up at Eskel and smiles. “I think I should,” she replies, “seeing that I’m pregnant.”

Geralt freezes in shock. Eskel’s brain visibly short-circuits.

“The fuck. But we –” he stammers out, “Why, I mean, how –”

“I don’t know,” Essi answers, her eyes wide and apprehensive, “I really have no idea.”

Eskel nods slowly, his expression still absolutely flabbergastered. “Fuck,” he says, with much feeling.

Essi looks at him closely, uncertainty colouring her lovely face. “I know this very unexpected and you never wanted a family but perhaps we can... talk about it? We don’t have to keep it but I –”

Eskel seems to finally snap out of his shocked state. “Essi, no,” he says quietly, taking her face in his hands, “I never let myself have a family, but now that the baby is here... Holy fuck,” he breathes out, one of his palms moving to touch her abdomen. “There’s a baby here?” he asks, his voice cracking. She nods with a watery smile, and he takes her into his arms. His whole frame is shaking now, and there’re tears in his eyes. “A baby,” he chokes out. His tear fall but his whole face is alight with joy.

Suddenly, Geralt’s throat is tight. He knows that Eskel never considered himself a father material because of all the issues he’s been battling since his childhood, just like Geralt and Lambert. Although he was quite a ladies man in his youth, he never allowed any relationship to get serious. Years passed like this, and Eskel’s now in his early forties, which is rather late to become a dad. Essi is six years younger than him, so it’s not early for parenthood for her either.

Yet, they both seem so happy now, and Geralt can’t get enough of seeing his brother like this, smiling and crying as he holds Essi and kisses her.

The rest of the table finally catches on that there’s something important happening. Then, the news is out, which brings their celebration to new heights. Jaskier is so happy and satisfied with himself that Geralt suspects his chest may soon burst from how much Jaskier puffs up with pride.  

“See?” Jaskier tells Lambert, “I’m a better matchmaker than you!”

“I made a marriage happen!” Lambert replies.

“I made a baby happen! Beat that!”

Lambert scoffs, the picture of unimpressed. “Maybe you and Geralt are gonna have kids too.”

“We’ve already got two,” Geralt answers without thinking.

Jaskier lets out a shocked gasp, staring at him in disbelief, and Geralt slowly understands what he said.

It’s not that it’s not untrue – they do have two children under their care. The thing is that neither Ciri nor Dara is very likely to call Jaskier their dad. Technically speaking, Jaskier will soon become Ciri’s step-father, but Ciri sees him more as Geralt’s partner. In Dara’s eyes, Jaskier is a supportive, parental figure, but it'd be foolish to think that the boy could ever consider himself Jaskier’s child. Geralt knows that Jaskier realises how silly that wish is but he still seems to hope for it, deep, deep down.

“Geralt–” he says, tears welling up in his eyes.

For a stag do – even two of them at once – it’s too much crying involved.

***

“Shoes off, Geralt, honestly,” Jaskier complains, “Are you doing this on purpose every time?”

Geralt only grunts. His head is spinning, too much to be pleasant, and he doesn’t trust his mouth to form a dignified enough answer. Jaskier’s very drunk too, so he doesn’t comment on Geralt’s response, or lack thereof.

The two of them slowly make their way towards the bedroom. Jaskier’s house is rather large, though, and they’re many objects and corners they stumble into. The rucksack they’re causing makes them snicker but their amusement is cut short when walk by the living room – Ciri and Dara are there, sitting on the couch in front of the TV and observing the two of them with delight.

“What are you two doing up?” Jaskier slurs out, “It’s...” he looks at his hand, where a watch should be, but there isn’t. “It’s late.”

“We found an interesting show on TV,” Ciri replies innocently. Geralt doesn’t believe it for a minute.

“Well, sleep is important!” Jaskier exclaims, gesturing dramatically with the hand he doesn’t use to hold on to Geralt. “Go to bed!”

“Yes, Jaskier,” Dara answers.

“Young people like you should get a lot of sleep.”

“We know, Jaskier,” Ciri sighs.

Jaskier would go on about the significance of sleep for teenagers if he was allowed, so Geralt starts dragging him away. Before they disappear behind the corner, though, he turns back to Ciri and Dara, shooting them what he hopes is a withering look.

“Show’s over,” he growls out.

Ciri and Dara have the decency to look chastised.

Arriving in the bedroom successfully takes them a few more minutes. When they finally do, they go straight to the bed, not bothering to undress. Then, they’re kissing, messy and eager, but their bodies have a problem rising up to the challenge because of the copious amount of alcohol flowing through their veins. Jaskier breaks the kiss quickly anyway, saying that he’s about to be sick, and rushes to the bathroom.  

After Geralt is left alone, he tries to process all the holy fucks of the day, primarily the reveal that Eskel is going to be a father and by extension, Geralt’s going to be an uncle. Then there’s the very fact that he marries Jaskier in two months. Geralt also has a memory of seeing Yennefer and Triss kissing during the party, and that is a lot to unpack as well.

The world is spinning as he lays in bed. He registers Jaskier returning and laying down beside him before he falls asleep.

It feels like no time passed at all when Geralt and Jaskier are waken up by noise. The loud thumping bores down into his skull, causing awful, throbbing pain. He sits up, groaning, and Jaskier does the same with a whimper.

Then, they hear Jaskier’s voice sing the first verses of Her Sweet Kiss and, suffice it to say, Geralt has had enough of that gods-damned fucking song and its techno remix especially.

“CIRILLA!” Geralt bellows.

“DARA!” Jaskier yells.

After a torturous minute, the music is turned off, but there’s no blessed silence. Instead, bright laughter reaches their ears. Geralt huffs, irritated, and checks the time on his phone. The fact that it’s one in the afternoon and that there’s a glass of water placed on his bedside table redeems Ciri and Dara slightly.

“Fucking hell,” Jaskier moans, messaging his temples, “I love my life.”

Strangely enough, there isn’t an ounce of sarcasm in Jaskier’s voice. Geralt turns to watch him closely, taking in his pale face, chapped lips and the grimace of pain twisting his features. “You do?” he asks.  

Jaskier looks at him, the blue of his eyes as beautiful as always. “I do,” he answers softly, “My life is so much better with you in it.”

Warmth explodes in his chest and Geralt moves closer, kissing Jaskier on the mouth, the cheek, the nose, hoping to convey what he finds himself unable to say. Jaskier responds to the affection with a happy hum, angling his face so get more kisses. Geralt indulges him gladly, pecking him on his forehead, his brows, under his eyes, down his neck.

“So much better indeed,” Jaskier purrs.

Geralt chuckles. “That is thanks to Lambert.”

“Oh shut up.”

Jaskier’s grumble is so grumpy that Geralt can’t help but laugh. Jaskier carries on grouching about being better than Lambert, and it keeps making Geralt laugh.

He couldn’t be more glad that he’s stayed.

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

The Return - Leo x Isabella (TRR/TRH AU)

Can Leo get to Isabella and the kids in time?

Chapter list:

Chapter 1: Enough

Chapter 2: Homeward Bound

Chapter 3: Band of Brothers

Chapter 4 Dearest Sympathies

Chapter 5: No Expectations

Chapter 6: Line of Succession

Chapter 7: Unspoken Truths

Chapter 8: Family Ties

Find links for previous chapters here! 

Tag list: @lorirwritesfanfic @drakewalkerfantasy @desireepow-1986@rainbowsinthestorm @lorircreates @itslaniquelove @liam-rhys @hopefulmoonobject @speedyoperarascalparty @kimmiedoo5 @rafasgirl23415 @kingliam2019@mom2000aggie @texaskitten30 @the-everlasting-dream

Trigger warning: Violence, death, premonition of death, sexual innuendo, swearing

Isabella struggled against Barthelemy’s guards to break free, running across to Natalia and Alessandra who were petrified. Stroking their faces, Isabella tried her hardest to hide her true emotion; she was just as scared as them but she couldn’t let her children down, “it’s ok... it’s ok...” she nervously smiled, her eyes darting to check them over visually from head to toe “Where’s Nico?” Isabella whispered but the girls didn’t speak, their hazel green eyes reflected their fear. Isabella wasted no time bringing them into a tight hug as she had to think fast, “Mama’s here... I got you...” Taking a deep breath, Isabella bit down onto her lip as she stood tall once again, placing her children behind her, “What is this all in aid of?” Isabella shouted as it echoed through the quiet throne room, with one hand holding her children behind her, her other hand gesticulated wildly, “Why are you doing all of this?!” Barthelemy simply laughed, “My dear... it’s simple... The Sons of Earth never could in a million years take over our wonderful Cordonia alone... each generation would bring its own obstacles and tribulations...” he smiled evilly towards his niece, “... but when your divorce was announced, Laurentia would make our base even more powerful and prophetic. With me as our leader...” Barthelemy’s brow raised, “We would become unstoppable in our defeat of the Rys bloodline...” The roar of the thugs he used to infiltrate the Laurentian Palace filled the room of joyous chanting, “...and unfortunately for you my darling niece... you also have become a part of that bloodline...” Barthelemy’s eyes darkened, glittering with a madness Isabella could only describe as horrific, “Please...” she begged, “Please spare the children... they have not done anything to deserve this!” Barthelemy began to walk towards Isabella before he looked over her shoulder towards the twins grinning cruelly “Maybe they can join Camille and Nicolás in our new world... we always need a few... spares in case it doesn’t work out...” Isabella’s eyes narrowed, her dark chocolate brown eyes darkening as she spat at him, “Give him back you fucking piece of shit!!”

Wiping his cheek, Barthelemy’s nostrils flared with rage, “You insolent bitch!” as he slapped Isabella across the face angrily screaming, “You will not disrespect me!” The Royal guards were in a political stalemate as Barthelemy made his claim to the throne, their pledge to protect the Crown at all costs left them divided but as Isabella fell to the ground, Barthelemy glared at all in the room, “One step... take one fucking step and you’ll not leave this room alive!” He kneeled down, lifting her head by her dark, mahogany curls, addressing the young Queen menacingly, Barthelemy grinned with an evil smile, “You’re lucky I only need to keep you alive for a few more days... and to think...” he goaded her, “I sent you flowers, this is how you repay my courtesy... Obviously your parents didn’t teach you manners...” pointing to a random guard, Barthelemy clicked his tongue, “Take them out of here as we begin our ascension into greatness!” Isabella’s dark, chocolate brown eyes glared with rage as the guard attempted to pull her arm, “Get off of me!” she screeched, her eyes narrowing angrily, “You’ll regret that!” The Sons of Earth guard simply laughed, “I somehow don’t think so...” as he pressed a gun to her spine, “Time to go...” he sneered as Isabella reluctantly gave into his threats, holding Alessandra and Natalia close to her. Looking over her shoulder, Isabella’s dark mahogany curls bounced as she took a final glance at her Uncle. With her cheeks sucked in, and a brow raised, the young Queen stared at him momentarily until she was pushed out of the throne room and escorted to the holding cells held in the catecombs. Isabella’s temper was renowned, but at that very moment she vowed if they made it through this, Barthelemy would burn for this.

“Shhhii...” Jimena’s eyes widened as she reached over Matthew’s mouth to stop him from speaking; both of them staring helplessly through the vents into the Palace’s throne room. Jimena glared at him, her voice barely a whisper as she spoke, “Shut up...” before her gaze returned to the room watching those still in attendance. Taking her phone, she began to briefly record Barthelemy and his army’s chanting, panning left and right. “We need to get out of here...” she muttered quietly, “We need to get to the Parliament building...” Matthew looking more and more confused as Jimena began to rummage through the lockers. With a satisfied smile, she turned to Matthew holding a guards uniform, “Hurry up and get changed...” Matthew raised his brow as he was handed the garment bag but knew better to question her. The Queen’s lady in waiting terrified him as Jimena stared him down, “What are you waiting for?” Her dark almond eyes narrowed, “...A standing ovation? Hurry up before we get caught!” She was bossy to the point it could be construed as rude and like an arrow, straight to the point. Folding her arms, Jimena pursed her lips as Matthew undressed, “I would like to not die today thank you...” stripping himself from his light grey suit, Matthew draped himself in the military regalia before Jimena moved forward placing the military cap on his golden head, “Much better...” she cooed as her hands delicately dusted off his broad shoulders, “Now follow me...”

As the Cordonian Royal jet landed in a disused aerodrome, Leo, Liam and Drake embarked immediately to a waiting vehicle. During the flight, Leo and Liam called in as many favours as possible to veil their arrival into the Kingdom, working with their neighbouring countries to free up their air space, allowing them to pass freely and undetected. Leo was well aware of the situation he found himself in. Not only was Barthelemy attempting to take over, there would be defiance in rank. “Your Majesty...” Javier smiled as he pressed down on the accelerator, “Welcome home...” Leo could only chuckle as he patted his trusted confidante’s shoulder, “You’re a sight for sore eyes Javier...” before he handed Leo an iPad, “This is the latest we received from Jimena...” The three men huddled around to watch the blurry video, moving back and forth as they tried to analyse it. “Your Royal Majesties... we also have news...” Liam and Leo immediately rose their heads, eyes widening with anticipation, “The Princesses are fine, they are with the Queen for now... but...” Leo and Liam’s hearts began to sink, there always had to be something, “...Prince Nicolás has been taken alongside Princess Camille but they are safe for now...”

Leo could feel his blood beginning to boil, his face reddening as he tried to contain his anger. “Leo... he’s ok...” Javier continued, “...the children are with the maids, no harm will come to them...” Leo glanced at Liam momentarily who felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, his daughter, his little Camille was so close he could almost feel her in his arms again. Liam sat stoically looking out the window as they drove to Parliament to meet the others. Barthelemy would regret the day he had taken her from Liam and Sienna and Liam was going to make sure that he felt every ounce of pain he had for months. “Li...” Drake quietly questioned as Leo and Javier we’re discussing the next course of action, “You ok?” Liam turned to Drake as Leo and Javier continued their conversation quietly murmuring, “How can he be so calm?!” Drake rolled his eyes to the left as Leo spoke tactics, “Li... he’s fighting for his family... his life... he knows he can’t be distracted from that...” Liam slowly bit down on his lower lip, “Drake...” he whispered, “I’m terrified... and I just pray to God my brother knows what he’s doing...” With his shaggy dark hair, Drake nodded as he reached out to grasp Liam’s arm to comfort him, “Li... he’s not the same Leo you grew up with; this has never been about him - it’s been about you. He is risking his own life to get Camille back...” Drake implored, “...without him, we’d still be searching...” With a sullen nod, Liam reluctantly agreed, he knew Drake was right but he couldn’t help but wonder what else was in it for Leo? He couldn’t have changed that much.

“Get you hands off of me!” Isabella’s nostrils flared as she struggled in the guards grip before lifting her foot and ramming her stiletto heel into his leg, the guard winced and clenched his teeth before grabbing her by the hair, “You fucking bitch!” he spat, “I can’t wait for them to fucking execute you and that husband of yours soon enough!” Isabella took a deep breath as she tried so hard not to scream out in pain but she barked back, “My husband wouldn’t even be allowed to speak to me like that!” Forcefully throwing her into one of the cells, the guard chuckled to himself as Isabella fell forward, caught by her two daughters, “Well guess what Your Majesty? Your husband ain’t here! Now be good girls and for once, do as you are told!” With two whimpering children and the metal door locking behind them, Isabella held Alessandra and Natalia as tight as she could, biting her tongue watching carefully as the guard walk off laughing to himself throwing the keys up and down in his hands. “Mi querida... mi querida...” she mumbled as her voice trembled, “It’s going to be ok... don’t listen to that crazy man... this is all...” she tried to smile, “...just a big mistake and Javier will get us out of here... I promise”

Alessandra and Natalia’s hazel green eyes glistened as they looked at one another quietly, “...mama?” Natalia squeezed her mother’s hand tightly, “mama... I’m scared... where’s papa?” Isabella blinked back tears as she brought her daughters closer, “Don’t be scared my beautiful girl... your father once he knows about this he will not...” she brushed the loose tendrils of her daughter’s chestnut brown hair from her face, “...he will not let a strand on either of your perfect little heads be touched, not by anyone... ok?” Each of them nuzzled into Isabella shoulders as they cried, struggling to understand what was going on. Their cries echoed throughout the dark, cold cells as Isabella rocked them back and forth to try to comfort them. She began to sing to them “Bailaba la niña alegre, en una noche estrellada. Movíase al son del aire, bajo la luna de plata. ¡Cómo bailaba la niña! ¡Cómo la niña bailaba!” She sang this song to her children every night before they went to sleep. “Cómo la niña bailaba...” she whispered as they sat in the darkness, only each other for heat and comfort.

Sucking in his cheeks, Leo proudly marched himself into Parliament, his sea green eyes scanned the room as he saw the Laurentian military gathered and standing to attention as he, Drake and Liam walked into the room. The crowd bowed as Javier stood next to him, “¡Atención!” he bellowed, “His Royal Highness, King Leo... The Queen and Royal family are still in the Laurentian Palace; we must fight together to reinstate normality...” Leo raised his hand stopping Javier in his tracks, “Sorry my friend... if I may?” Javier nodded as Leo addressed the many factions of military gathered, “I know I have no right to request; but my wife, your Queen and my children are under that roof. My wife has dedicated her life to you all, our daughters and son will do the same. This coup has came to our shores because of a self fulfilling prophecy embarked upon by those who were fantasists... Cordonian militants who I am ashamed to have called family once upon a time and have desecrated our home. I stand before you as a husband and a father to ask for your help to overthrow this madness...” Leo stood proud and tall as the military dropped to their knee pledging their allegiance. “For King and Queen!” their chants filled the Parliament building as Leo looked over his shoulder towards Drake and Liam winking at them as he smiled.

To blend in, all three Cordonian men were dressed in the same green military uniform as the others. Leo and Javier stood side by side as they reviewed the blueprints of the Laurentian Palace surrounded by Generals, Admirals and Royal Guard Commanders. “We make use of blocking the tunnel system as much as we can...” Leo’s voice was strong and authoritative, “The tunnels run from the Palace directly to here. The airforce and navy teams can help block off these tunnels, and work with the coast guard to review the ports...” Leo pointed towards the blueprint, “The army will surround the Palace as the marines and Royal guard will clear the entrances... allowing smaller factions of the army to follow behind... the main priority is to find the Queen and children to ensure their safety... the youngest according ton intelligence states they are with the maids, so should still be in the nursery...” The men gathered around the table nodded in agreement to the plan until they were interrupted by the banging against the Parliament Chamber door. Leo’s sea green eyes flickered to a shade of blue as he raised his brow before nodding allowing the heavy reinforced door to be opened. Jimena and Matthew stood with their hands raised as hundreds of rifles were pointed in their direction until Leo called them to a halt. The Laurentian lady in waiting was not pleased, her lips pursed as she confronted Leo, “Took you long enough!” Jimena barked as Leo chuckled, “I can’t teleport...” he looked over her shoulder and smiled towards the Englishman stood behind her, “New boyfriend?” Jimena bit down and tried her hardest not to giggle, “No... this is Lord Devereaux... Isabella’s lawyer...” Leo’s smile wavered as he looked the English Nobleman up and down, “I see...” he replied dryly, “Your services Lord Devereaux... are no longer required...”

[duckiefishpond]

Lover’s Day

(IT’s V-day, so can post this now.)

“And one, two, three!”

“And one, two, three!”

“Ack! Sorry!”

“No, no, my friend. Quite alright!”

Lover’s Day was around the corner for Valentin. It was the monster’s holiday for couples that happened on the 3rd of June. Over time though, it was adopted as an official holiday of Valentin by all residence; much to monsters’ resistant of commercial use. Still, the day was approaching fast as Collin was thrown in a stupor.

Collin was never good at planning things but this being his and Tessara’s 26th wedding year, he wanted to make this holiday special; seeing as their wedding anniversary was still a bit down the road. Believe him, Collin never expected for Tessara to have stayed this long as she has. Collin wanted to do something out of the ordinary. 26 years wasn’t a mile stone, but it was something special to Collin. 26 years that Tessara had been by his side, given him two wonderful children, and been there for him at his worst. No, Collin wanted to show his wife how special she was to him. How much he appreciated her and how much he loved her.

So here he was, day of the holiday, while Tessara was at the palace fully today, taking dance lessons from China. Bless the poor cat man for how many times Collin has stepped on his feet for the last few days of practice as Tessara was out for work.

“And dip and done! Well done my friend! You have improved immensely!” China chuckled as Collin brought China back up.

Blushing slightly, Collin rubbed the back of his head as Serenity and Seth clapped.

“Mama’s going to love it when you show her you can dance better now,” Serenity chuckled.

“Mommy happy,” Seth stated while smiling.

“Yeah, yeah,” Collin remarked, rolling his eyes.

“No, my friend, they’re right. Duckie loves dancing and music. You know this. So you know she will be over the moon when she sees how much you have improved,” China commented, patting Collin on the back, “Just breathe through things and you will be fine.”

“I hope so,” Collin replied, giving a half confident look.

Still unsure how things will go, Collin gave a slight pout as China continued to pat his back.

“Collin, what bothers you? Are those man’s comments from yesterday still buzzing around your head like a pesky mosquito?” China asked.

Collin sighed.

“Sadly yes,” Collin replied, “I can’t stand it. Everybody thinks she deserves better. Whether they state it or not, people give us looks. It seems only her close friends, other than Marissa, seem to support us. Even now. And that guy yesterday, gods, he lusted at her. Telling her how beautiful she was and how if she was with him, he would give her the world. I could tell she was grossed out so of course I stepped in. But I’m not stupid. I’m not fighting some muscle head. But to be called weak and some stick that clings onto her when she could be with a real man, it-”

Trailing off, Collin went quiet as China gave a sad look but perked back up.

“My friend. You are not weak. You love Duckie dearly and would do anything to make sure she’s safe and happy. Granted, she can protect herself, but you give her protection that not others can. You give her the love she’s wanted for so long. People like that, they don’t understand. So do not let words like that bother you,” China reassured.

Sighing again, Collin perked back up before giving his children a reassuring smile that he was alright.

“I know. I know. I just hate it. I wish they would leave her alone. She’s mine. She’s my wife and I’m her husband,” Collin spoke.

“And so you are. And you will take her out to the willow tree and give her a wonderful Lover’s Day picnic dinner and sweep her off her feet tonight,” China chuckled, “As for Marissa. She’s a fiddly one. I think more is going on under the seams of her demeanor towards you but she is a private person and I am not one to pry. Give it time though. I think she’s slowly warming up to you.”

Collin just chuckled. “That or she’s waiting to throw another knife at me,” Collin remarked.

To that, everybody was laughing now.

4 o clock rolled around and Tessara was walking through the door; seemingly very tired. One of her pigtails was slightly undone, sleeves were slipping down, and giving off a very tired sigh, walked over to the stairs and sat down.

Giving her no time, Seth was already in his mother’s lap looking worried at her. Nuzzling his nose with hers, Tessara gave her son a kiss on the forehead with a tired smile.

“Hi sweetheart,” Tessara commented.

Walking out of the living room, Serenity behind him, Collin was surprised to see the state his wife was in.

“Duckie-dearest, what happened to you?” Collin questioned as he took a seat next to her on the stairs.

“Chasing intruders. Surprisingly not my fans, but Umi’s,” Tessara replied.

Giving a confused and annoyed look, Collin replied, “Don’t those damn girls know he’s gay and with someone?”

“As if they care about that? No, somehow these three sneaked their way into the meetings today and just had to get close to him. Then we had to chase one down which one threw a fit and started to fight us. Granted, oni are no match for me, it was still a hell of a day,” Tessara sighed.

Rubbing her back, Collin kissed his wife’s forehead.

“Well, it’s over and now you can enjoy the rest of the day. And I have a small surprise for you. Yet, you got to wash up and get nice and dressed for it,”  Collin replied.

Raising an eyebrow, seems that caught Tessara’s attention.

“Oh?” she questioned, “And what do tell, do you have planned?”

Tessara knew what today was. Was probably the reason the girls broke into the palace. Still, Collin having something planned? That was new to her.

“Just have to wait and see,” Collin replied with a cheeky smile.

Chuckling, Tessara kissed her husband as she got up.

“Fine,” she playfully replied before heading upstairs; carrying Seth with her.

Looking at each other, Collin and Serenity chuckled and smiled.

With 6 o clock striking on the clock, Collin had washed up and freshened up at the downstairs bathroom as he was sitting on the stairs with Serenity brushing his hair.

“Starbeam says by the time you guys get there, the food will be ready and things will be set up,” Serenity remarked as she finished brushing her father’s hair and started to braid it.

“Good. Now all we have to do now is wai-” Collin began to speak.

“Hi handsome,” a voice spoke.

Looking up, Tessara had finished in the bedroom and was dressed in a nice blue dress with fashionable flats. Light pink lipstick and having dropped her godly appearance, her medium length blond hair was tied into a bun with a fancy hair piece.

Grinning from ear to ear, Collin replied, “Well hello to you too gorgeous. My, are you lost, because I would LOVE to be your guide tonight.”

This got Tessara to laugh as Serenity playfully smacked Collin on the back of his head; causing him to laugh.

“Daddy, that was terrible!” Serenity stated although chuckling herself.

“Silly Daddy,” Seth commented; having come down the stairs behind his mother and clinging to her leg at the moment.

“Hehe, so, we ready to go here?” Tessara questioned; still chuckling.

Finishing up braiding his hair and tying it up with his usual purple hair ribbon, Serenity replied, “Yep!”

Although not as clean as Tessara, Collin was well dressed with a nice white dress shirt and purple dress slacks. Nice shoes and with his hair braided, Tessara did have to admire how nice her husband looked.

Getting up, Collin held his hand out to his wife as Tessara happily took it. Walking down the stairs, the pair walked towards the door as Collin opened it up for Tessara. “My lady first of course,” Collin stated.

Tessara just chuckled as she walked out the front door.

Waiting for them was Collin’s dirt bike; freshly washed and new tires.

“Now where are we going?” Tessara questioned.

“Again my darling, it’s a surprise,” Collin replied as he started up the bike before handing Tessara a helmet.

Looking back, the pair noticed Sonji had come down the stairs and was with the kids on the front porch.

“In bed by 9. No later than 10,” Tessara spoke.

“As if I haven’t watched them before,” Sonji replied.

“Bye Mama. Bye Daddy! Have fun!” Serenity spoke with a wave.

“Buh Bye,” Seth chuckled and waved.

Waving at their children, Tessara wrapped her arms around Collin once she had her helmet on. Placing his on, Collin kicked the bike stand up and off they went down the dirt road from the house.

Riding down the dirt road to the main paved road, the pair hit the four way before taking a left and riding on for quite a while to Limestone Peak. The trail here was a common walking path for the couple as Collin parked the bike at the beginning of the trail.

“Okay. Now here, I need you blindfolded,” Collin remarked as he took off his helmet; pulling a black cloth out of his dress shirt pocket.

Puzzled as she set her helmet on the bike, Tessara asked, “Why?”

“For the surprise of course. I know where I’m going so I’ll lead,” Collin chuckled.

Trusting her husband, Tessara replied, “Okay.”

Coming behind her, Collin placed the black cloth around her eyes and tied it under Tessara’s hair before taking hold of her hand and leading the way. A good long walk, Tessara kept asking questions.

“Am I going to like what you have planned?” Tessara asked.

“Hopefully,” Collin replied.

“I’m surprised we are all the way out here,” Tessara commented.

“Well, the town was probably packed and restaurants full. Rather do something special in places we like to go to together,” Collin stated.

Chuckling, Tessara replied, “Yes and if I’m thinking correctly, we are headed to the willow tree, aren’t we?”

“Maybe,” Collin chuckled before finally stopping.

Stopping, Tessara waited for a moment before what seemed to be light started to shine through the cloth.

Walking behind her, Collin began to undo the cloth before waiting to take it off.

“Ready?” Collin spoke.

“Yeah,” Tessara chuckled.

Pulling the cloth up, Tessara’s eyes went wide in excitement.

The willow tree, a usual spot the pair liked to hang out and talk at, was covered in star lights that made the tree glow in golden light. Sitting at its base was a picnic set up with fine dishware and a dinner waiting for them. Next to that was a freshly made pitcher of tea.

Placing her hands over her nose and mouth, it was obvious Tessara was grinning from ear to ear before turning and hugging her husband.

“You planned this?” Tessara questioned; the happiness and giddiness in her voice when she asked.

“All for you,” Collin replied as he took one of his wife’s hands and led her to the blanket to sit.

The cooking was obviously Starbeam’s; grill cooked steaks with freshly tossed salad, hand made potatoes and steam cooked greens. The only thing that stuck out to be anything that wasn’t cooked by her was the macaroni and cheese; obviously done by Collin while Tessara was cleaning up.

Tessara was still grinning as she looked over everything; the food, the willow tree, and then at her husband. That smile never leaving her face, Collin could tell she loved it.

Grabbing cups, Collin made drinks for the two of them as Tessara started to make plates. Everything made, the two took their usual spot between the roots; pillows having been placed there for them.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Tessara commented before taking another bite of her steak.

“Yeah well. Once in a while I should show you I can be romantic,” Collin chuckled.

“As if you haven’t been for the last 26 years,” Tessara chuckled.

“26 years is a long time. And at some points, I don’t think I expressed enough how much you mean to me,” Collin replied.

Leaning closer, Tessara snuggled up to her husband with a big grin on her face.

“As if I didn’t know. You love me. You want me,” Tessara playfully teased.

“Everyday. Every night. Every minute. Every hour. Every second,” Collin replied.

To this the two busted out laughing.

With night finally setting in as the day cycle finished and the sky turned to the starry view of space outside the shields, the pair finished up dinner as Collin wrapped an arm around Tessara and held her close; both holding their cups of tea.

“Surprised you didn’t grab the wine from the basement,” Tessara commented.

“I don’t think you would want me drunk tonight,” Collin teased.

Chuckling, Tessara replied, “Probably not. Though you usually are just more sappy and like to throw pick up lines.”

“You like my pick up lines,” Collin remarked, “I mean look at this sky. So gorgeous. Yet nothing compares to the star that is here next to me. The brightest in all the universe and she’s all mine!”

Blushing, Tessara started to push Collin away playfully as she laughed.

“Oh my gods! Stop! You’re just as bad when sober!” Tessara laughed.

“It’s true though! Diamonds may be my favorite gem, but there is no gem more dazzling and beautiful as you!” Collin continued.

“STTTTOOOPPP! ACK, YOU CHEESE BALL!!!” Tessara laughed.

Both laughing, Collin took the cups and set them aside before passionately kissing his wife. Wrapping her arms around him, Tessara happily returned the kisses as Collin leaned her into the pillows.

Kissing for a few minutes, it took Tessara a moment to realize music had started to play. Breaking the kiss, Tessara looked confused but pleased. Realizing she caught on to the music, Collin smiled.

“Got something else for yah,” Collin stated.

“Oh?” Tessara questioned.

Setting up, Collin held a hand out as Tessara grabbed it. Helping her up on her feet, Collin walked her over and off the blanket before letting her hand go and bowing.

“My lady. May I have this dance?” Collin asked.

Chuckling, Tessara held her hand out again as she replied, “Oh, but of course!”

Taking hold of it, Collin lead as the pair danced around to the music. Showing her what he had learned, Collin was happy to see how smiley and happy his wife was in his arms. Dipping her as the music came to the end, Tessara hadn’t noticed in one of their circles around the tree, Collin had grabbed something with one his tails until it came into view.

“And I didn’t forget the roses,” Collin stated as he brought his wife back up and handed her the bouquet of red roses with his tail.

Taking the bouquet, Tessara was blushing as she stated, “You are such a sap!”

“You married me,” Collin chuckled.

“And never regretted one day of it,” Tessara replied before kissing her husband again.

With midnight drawing close, the pair decided to finish things up with a walk on the trail. Chatting away about things, the pair arrived at the peak where the rock side dropped off to a beautiful view of the mountain range during the day. Though at night, the starry sky above made things just as breathtaking.

“Oh, this view is just as lovely at night as it is during the day. I’m surprised more people don’t come out here,” Tessara commented.

“Yeah really. Look at star cluster there,” Collin replied.

Pointing out stars and planets, the pair hadn’t paid attention to the commotion behind them till something squawked. Puzzled by the sound, the two turned around when a large crow flew out towards them. Surprised and startled, Tessara jumped back as the crow flew between them; a mocking bird following behind it. It seemed the crow must have messed with its nest and was being attacked by the mocking bird.

Though too far back, Tessara hadn’t realized how close to the edge she had gotten till slight rumbling could be heard. Seems from the rain storm a few days ago, the limestone edges were still soft with water and started to crumble.

The next few seconds flashed before her. Grabbing out for Collin as he rushed towards her, feeling nothing under her feet, to being held by something. Not realizing she had shut her eyes in all this, Tessara opened them to see wide open space.

“DUCKIE! DUCKIE, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!?” Collin spoke in a panic.

It took Tessara a moment to register things. She was in Collin’s arms. Deciding to look down, she saw trees below her and Collin’s feet. Now realizing what was going on, Tessara’s eyes went wide.

She fell off the edge, Collin jumped for her and grabbed her and-

“YOU CAN FLY?!?” Tessara shouted in stunned confusion.

“Um….yeah,” Collin replied.

They were indeed in the air as Collin held onto Tessara. Having jumped for his wife, he grabbed onto her before using his powers to fly and catch their bearings.

Flying back up to the top, Collin landed away from the edge before setting Tessara down. Still holding onto her husband, Tessara was still stunned.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Tessara questioned.

Brushing the back of his head, Collin looked a bit flustered.

“It’s one of those things with my powers I had to keep hidden. You knew my father had forbidden me to use my powers. So much I had to learn things on my own behind his back. Flying was one of them. But being so forced to keep it hidden, it was just one of those things that fell to the wayside. Just rather walk and bike than fly around. You know,” Collin explained before looking at his wife, “Does...that bother you?”

“Wha-no! I’m just surprised….Thank you! For saving me,” Tessara replied before planting a kiss on her husband’s cheek.

“Well...I mean. You probably would have been alright. But you did really scare me and I jus-” Collin tried to speak.

“COLLIN!” Tessara huffed.

“Ah-oh. Okay...You’re welcome,” Collin replied sheepishly before kissing his wife.

Returning the kiss, Tessara was the one to break it as she remarked, “Come on. It’s getting late. Let’s get home.”

“Maybe I’m not tired though,” Collin remarked, smirk on his face.

“There are things we can do at the house that I rather do at the house than outside silly,” Tessara replied  with a “come get me” look.

“And my Duckie-dearest, what would those things be?” Collin questioned; playing innocent and curious.

“You’ll just have to see when we get there,” Tessara replied with a smirk.

“Such a tease,” Collin replied.

Tessara just chuckled.

Taking her hand as Collin lead, the pair finally made their way back to the bike as Collin got it started.

Seeing Tessara put her helmet on, Collin remarked, “Hold on my darling.”

“Always,” Tessara replied.

Leaning and holding onto Collin, Tessara was smiling as Collin drove the way back home; happy with the Lover’s Day surprise she got, happy with her husband, and happy with the life she had.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Friday 22 May 1835

6 ¾

11 ½

 No kiss. Ready in an hour fine but dullish morning F54 ½° at 7 3/4 am  out with Robert Schofield and his man and in the walk till breakfast at 9 10 - some time talking to Marian till 10 ½ - then about 10 40 had Mr J. Critchby, Holt, and William Keighley about the Spiggs water drain (coal Loose) came to agree - staid till 11 - wanted to know on what terms I would agree to leave the drain open and what I had to say - I answered that I had nothing to say but if they made me any proposal I would consider about it -  I thought it however but right to tell them that the water was very valuable to me and I did not want to agree at all, but would rather have the water - they should have agreed when I first proposed it to them - I had employed Hinscliffe to settle the matter, and he could make nothing of them that now I was quite at liberty to do as I liked, and I had no terms to propose - the water would have been stopt before but for Mr James Holt - both he and the Manns declined saying anything about the value of the Loose - I understood the Spiggs company thought I should not stop because of preventing myself from bottoming Walker pit - but whatever this pit cost, it was not to be compared with the value of the water, and I should not care about the pit - I said it was the manner in which Mr Clarke had come to me about the Loose that 1st made me think of it - otherwise it might not have been thought of by me till now that I wanted the water - ill nature or the mere wish to stop the Spiggs colliery had nothing to do with  it - it was the water I wanted for my own use - they said Hinscliffe never proposed any express terms to them - Holt said I knew that my uncle really had received money for the drain - yes! said I but not the sum Mr Clarke said - however I said I had given them all the information about it I had myself - I had done everything as fairly as I could and could only say I was sorry for them especially for the Keighleys; but wondered that anybody should make purchases without looking into the title deeds - they ought to have known what they were buying - WK- then said it was a pity to loose all the rails and things in the drift - I asked how long it would take to get them out - answer a week - I said I by no means wished to cause any unnecessary waste of property - I should be very sorry to do this to anyone - I would speak to Holt (James) and see what could be done - I was very civil to them and several times expressed my sorrow at what had happened - they declined taking beer - wrote the above of today till 11 25 - out at 11 ½ sometime with Robert Schofield and his man at

 SH:7/ML/E/18/0039

  dry bridge drain - then sauntered along the Conery wood to Walker pit to ask Joseph Mann how long he thought it would take for the Spiggs company to get their rails and tools out of their works - mentioned having had William K- and his partner Holt - John Mann at a stand for the planks to stop the Spiggs water - so desired nothing more to be done till I had seen Holt of High Royde - said I had told K. and JCH. that I would mention the thing to Holt - did not wish any unnecessary waste of property - but knew the value of the water to me - whether they knew the value of the drain to the coal works or not - then sauntered in the Conery wood again and about till 2 ½ when Mr Bradley came - just saw him for a minute or 2 when A- called me - walked her past Mytholm - I had hardly got back when A- returned saying the Miss Rawsons Catherine and Delia were coming from Huddersfield - they arrived about 3 10 - sat with them near ½ hour and then left them to A- wrote the last 10 lines till 3 ¾ - then began a letter to M- had A- near ½ hour after her friends went at 4 - and had Joseph Mann a little while to ask for more sufficient blinders for the gin horse who took fright and jumped about again this afternoon - then till 6 5 when A- returned from Shut (spoke to Bancroft’s sister about the Sunday school) wrote 4 pages and 1 page ends of ½ sheet envelope to M-  written to inquire whether the parcel should be sent to Leamington or Lawton - Adney angry at my not writing sooner - ‘she had a note ready written for you - perhaps this was one reason of my delay - I did not like - perhaps did not know how - to say much, and yet, remembering your train of recent thought, I could not make up my mind to let the note be sent - I have therefore continued to let it slip out of date, and shall tell her, that, as I am writing and she is at this moment very busy, I will make her speech for her, and am sure you will lay all the blame on me - the fact is, her note was a very nice one, and I shall not tell you its purport half so prettily - but I know you better than she does, and I count upon your thanking me for keeping the office of scribe to myself - you may rely upon me now and always - for doing the best I can to give you all the comfort I can’ - then kind mention of Percy - not aware of feeling the indifference about her M-- charged me with - ‘my interest in the child was, and is, for your sake - I have seen too little of her to feel it for her own - but my inquiries after her might have been more unremitting without my real care about her being greater’ ...... as I do not know the additionally expensive plan proposed by Dr Magrath, can give no opinion but ‘Do not hesitate to call upon me, if necessary, for the whole of the balance I have in your favour, for, tho’ I have and shall have for some time to come, a very heavy outgo, yet I can answer your demands upon me, even should the notice be short’  - know not whether I shall be able to leave home for so long together as 3 or 4 weeks and almost fear the Welsh excursion must be in abeyance -.... ‘what will you say when  you hear that, after all my objections, our 2 chesnut ponies are mares! In all but this they are what we wanted - can we have everything we wish?’ - no time even talked of for our leaving home so M- to go on directing to me here - the parcel to be off tonight if Adney returns in time from Cliff Hill - ‘she has knitted you a pair of slippers which she hopes will fit you - she hoped more than this, but I shall merely add, that she is very much obliged for the so long loan of your drawing book; and we shall both of us be anxious to hear that the parcel safely reaches you I shall enclose one sovereign and one shilling, being the guinea bet I am indebted to Mr Lawton, in consequence of the so early breakup of the Peel administration - that Lord Melbourne’s may not last longer, seems more than probable.  I am not yet prepared to expect an openly avowed Radical administration ‘ - mention the Sunday school business, and say that ‘a steady, middle-aged, maid or widow, or married woman having a husband capable of teaching and free from troublesome children, is in request - the situation would be sufficiently worth taking - we have thought of making inquiries in York - can you help us in any way?........ Never think my dearest Mary, that you are absent from my mind or my affection - whoever laid the 1st stone of our friendship, I will try to keep the building in good repair - it shall not fall into decay for want of care or looking after - what do hear from Paris?’ I do not expect any émeute  of much importance - ask M- for her receipts for Seltzer water, mince-pies, and how to have always fresh butter and good cream - ask if she has replaced Mrs Duff and how Martha goes on - M- to tell me particularly of her own health, and, if she can, where they will take house - ......  ‘God bless you, my dearest Mary, under all possible circumstances - your unshaken confidence in my friendship and regard is always a comfort to me - Ever very faithfully and especially yours A Lister’ -  A- returned at 6 5 - dinner at 6 25 coffee - sometime with my father and Marian - came upstairs at 8 ¼ - read tonight’s London paper - 20 minutes with my aunt till 10 ¼ - then ½ hour wrote the above extract from my letter to M- fine day tho’ dull and threatening rain in the afternoon - a few drops about 3pm F57° at 10 ¼ pm - M- [A- ] made ready the parcel tonight, to go by John in the morning before breakfast - to ‘Mrs. Lawton, Lawton Hall, Lawton, Cheshire’ carriage paid - per mail 23 May 1835’

[altarflame]

Let me give you this real country music breakdown.

Keeping in mind that 2019 involved lots of gut wrenching transition, including divorce and selling my home of 11 years (the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere). Moving away from the tropics, to a place where the ocean is usually too far and my plants can’t live outside through the winter. I had a kid move out and away, for the first time.   My oldest friend also died last August, after a scant 3 month long battle with cancer. It was a real plague upon my proverbial dog, wife, and pickup truck. And, of course, I’m living through a pandemic, and a long overdue but very emotional racial justice uprising, with the rest of you, now. Anyway. OTHER than those things, my 2020 has been like...My sister’s gradually, gut wrenchingly cut off all contact with me over the past couple of years, culminating in the last couple of months, whenst we no longer speaketh at all. I’ve fought hard for this to be different and it’s still very sharp. I don’t think I’ll ever give up hope, or stop making a fool of myself about it. A new friend I was starting to really care about hung herself in April. I’ve tried to be there for her husband and 5 year old daughter when and how I can, which is honestly not much. I’ve taken several people who were scared to go alone, to her grave.  I felt forced to break up with the person I thought was my soul mate, these past 3 years, and wanted to be with forever, and I have grieved it hard over the last couple of months. I’m still processing this. I’m gonna be processing this for awhile. My threshold for being anywhere near him without overwhelming sobbing is apparently approximately 45 seconds. In the beginning we were scrambled together, mixed in a celestial bowl and hand fluffed with a feather. And the tears of bliss were not amiss - it was a good day.  But the story nears the present time Of restlessness and wake up calls Wake up! Years have flown fast but then who's counting The wars have been won but there's few left standing between us And the shadows of Christmas past... Critically acclaimed but sadly underrated - Fortune definitely favored us, but no one celebrated. Our wits were splitting at their ends... We gazed upon the city lights We each laughed aloud one final time and agreed: This is one thing we'll miss... On his way out, he sabotaged my part time foster child’s mom’s tenuous, fragile relationship with me, so I no longer have the ability to connect with or help that child who he brought into my life. Who I love and wonder about and periodically hear horror stories about via mutual friends. I bent over backwards, I burned calories straining for that trust between the mom and myself.  

It’s so terrible sometimes. It hurts so bad. Jean-Paul. LAURA.   *MILLS*  . Coralye. FUCK. This post brought to you with plenty of hard crying, and no shortage of echoing painful music. I’m physically sick about this shit semi often.  I don’t normally let go of anybody, guys. But certainly not my fucking nearest and dearest.  I have a lot. I have SO MUCH. I know this. I feel good a lot of the time.  I have all 5 of my kids under this roof while the pandemic rages on, and they’re all healthy and beautiful and they all love me and talk with me. It’s mostly all cake these days with them, Elise telling me where she is in her own solitary reading for pleasure, Ananda cracking me up, Jake biking to the grocery store for treats to share, Aaron showing me something amazing in the yard, Isaac washing dishes and giving me weirdly helpful and totally unanticipated advice. They’re almost no work now, it’s all return on investment and I have tons of privacy and I use the fuck out of it.  I’m deeply in love with somebody these past 7 months. Being deeply in new love AND devastated-heartbroken about lost love at the same time is honestly dizzying, I spent a first destitute day thinking maybe I can’t do polyamory anymore, period. Maybe this is too fucking much and I’m gonna be alone and focus on my career and my goddamned plants. (<--not fucking really, obv I am not gonna let the pain win and go full hermit. Brief compelling temptation, though.) My career and my plants are great, btw, thanks for asking. I’ve got basically my dream job, it’s flexible and lackadaisical AND meaningful and challenging, it’s salaried with bonuses and hella benefits and amazing job security. It’s the whole thing, the culmination of 6 years in school and unpaid internships and volunteering. I even have a spare PRN position elsewhere that I mostly hang on to because it’s fun when they want me to come make $200 for a shift, to mix it up a little.  And I have solo projects, writing and web and mental health, all in the works, and they’re good.  I have seedlings sprouting. I have a yard that is pure magic, revealing new secrets each day.  I’ve got some of my oldest people, like Jess. I’ve got some exciting new people, like Jill.  The love, did I mention it? Holy shit. I’ve got Sterling, and that is a whole other story. That it’s been this good while things are this bad is pretty astounding. His own drama quotient has been off the charts, too. I almost can’t imagine how wonderful it would be if we weren’t constantly adrift in a sea of bullshit, though I also strongly suspect we both need a certain staggering minimum quota of bullshit. It’s no accident that we met mutually chasing along after the wake of the same madman’s chaos. We’re nursing some deep wounds in each other, waking up some old old hurts and soothing them back down smaller and smaller. Anytime we’re touching it’s either syrupy soma sweet, blazing inferno hot, or a staggering blend of the two - and then we pull apart to try to actually speak with whole brains, and inevitably take turns being baffled, just hilariously relieved, at how easy it is to communicate. We alternate coming at each other on tiptoe, braced, and then feeling confused and just.... amused? Skeptical? that the other is totally able to empathize with what was just said and is accepting it gently.  We don’t have a ton of objective stuff in common, on paper. We’re both very wordy and linguistic, we’re analyzers, we draw unusual people who will feel safe telling us insane things. We’re both hypersexual perverts, chronic pickers, we both wear too much black. It doesn’t go a lot further than that at a glance. We both have PTSD and ironclad outward facing coping skills, nostalgia for the Florida Keys, scientific skepticism mixed with some faith in magic.... we were both brilliant children who felt pretty isolated. But I haven’t ever really felt like anyone is loving me the way I love people, before. I’ve never even felt like anyone else received my love, the same way I intended it, or at least not all of it. It’s like the intensity of what I’m conveying and meaning when I kiss somebody’s cheek, I dunno man, he experiences it. The goofy flowing sense I have, of holding hands, he comments on it all the time. I’m not just like.... alone, in my overwhelm with being touched, or my enthusiasm for sensations, and that is honestly pretty new to me. Sterling is not tolerating my affection for my sake, and I’m still gradually adapting to that with periodic backsliding into hesitance, and unneeded apologies. It’s like we’re totally fluent in the precise same love language, so nothing gets lost, and the feedback loop is instantaneous.  He’s dark inside, but dark like Nine Inch Nail’s A Warm Place. Dark like the womb.  So as I was saying. I have so much. Including a candle that’s about Mills, and is burning behind me, giving me this slipping sense that I need to blow it out, I need to reserve it, it’s gonna be gone soon. This one spans so many feelings, it’s been positive, some new candle would be what, voodoo? Meddling? I don’t know. This one’s been in a drawer, with our ring buried in it (my dragon). What will I do with that ring? What will I do with all this love?  How can I contain so much, anyway? Why can’t anything ever replace anything else? It’s like infinite space, and the empty places just keep throbbing, and it’s like I sprout new spots for new fullness and the cavities pulse on.  I’m deeply grateful for a certain self-completeness I’ve come to understand that I have, and that not everyone does. I am resiliant A-motherfucking-F (<--meta vulgar!). AND YET. OW OW OW.  I’m sitting here trying to exposure therapy my way through my Mills playlist, as I write this, so Spotify can’t surprise me into sads anymore. I’ve gotten already to a place where sometimes i remember positive things purely positively, and laugh and tell a story and it’s ok. I’m bitter as all hell that I can’t even talk to my sister about this breakup, after she had so many stupid goddamned feelings about the relationship itself, about polyamory in general, about ever knowing him (which might have allowed her to help me grieve at all).  Sigh. I love the internet, maybe feel free to send me a message if you’re still reading, whoever the fuck you are <3