#please enjoy my upcoming oc posts :')

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 4.7k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

A/N: You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

!!! This chapter contains dialogue in High Valyrian, which will be designated by bold and italics...enjoy :)

A week had slipped away since Jaenara and her family had settled into King’s Landing. She found herself passing time by discussing plans for the upcoming coronation with her mother or entertaining little Aegon and Viserys. Occasionally, she rode out on dragonback with Baela and Rhaena, savoring the freedom of the skies above. When she was up amongst the clouds, the princess forgot all about what her life had become down below. Sitting atop Aetherion, it was as if nothing else mattered.

Yet above all, Jaenara found herself occupied with a careful dance of avoidance whenever Aemond Targaryen crossed her path. She had escaped several close calls, ducking into unoccupied rooms whenever she saw the prince at the other side of a hallway. Jaenara had often wondered to herself if she could continue to keep up this game of cat and mouse well into their marriage, but the prospect of having to constantly hide from the man who was to be her husband did sadden her. Ever so slightly. 

Currently, the princess found herself in the castle gardens walking shoulder to shoulder with Helaena. Jaenara had not had as much alone time with her aunt as she would have liked, and was eager to reconnect with the one member of the Targaryen-Hightowers she could actually stand to be around. Helaena seemed to be pleased with the company, though it was difficult for Jaenara to tell at times. Her aunt had always been a somewhat emotionally distant person, even when they were children.

“My mother tells me that the planning for Rhaenyra’s coronation is almost finished?” Helaena inquires.

Jaenara and Jacaerys had both been closely involved with the planning of their mother’s name day ceremony. The preparations had proven to be stressful, even now plaguing the princess’ mind. Temporary discomfort is a small price to pay for mother to sit the Iron Throne - Jaenara had told herself. Though, she could not say she felt the same way about the looming, permanent discomfort she would soon find herself in…

Rhaenyra had even tried to include Aegon in the ceremony planning as well. An offering for the position he had given up for his older sister. Though he had seemed less than interested, opting to disappear for hours at a time instead. Even now, Jaenara wondered where her uncle often took off to, leaving her sweet aunt and their children alone. She questioned if she would be condemned to such a fate as well - Aemond fluttering about doing gods know what while she was left to care for their babes alone. The princess decides it is best not to mull over such depressing possibilities that she may soon enough find herself in.

“Yes, her name day will be here before we know it - just a short week away. Though I find myself anxious about the festivities.” Jaenara finally responds. 

“I understand,” Helena breathes, “I am not one for crowds either.”

“Well then we must stick together until the whole ordeal is over.” Jaenara reassures her aunt. And herself.

“I would gladly,” Helaena giggles, “Though when your wedding day arrives, my brother will stand at your side, not I."

Jaenara sighed - another formality she had been dreading heavily. She’d venture to guess that the moment her mother’s name day passes, planning for the wedding will begin immediately. The princess knew that her scarcity of interactions with Aemond would not last for much longer. Not if either of their mothers could help it. 

Jaenara felt she had little to discuss with her betrothed. What else was there to say?

Helaena came to a halt, bending down to pick up a large, green beetle. Jaenara winced - she had never been one for bugs, save for the pretty butterflies she had often chased with her aunt in their youth. She watched as the beetle began to travel up Helaena’s arm. Jaenara found that Helaena looked serene, her blonde-white hair picked up by the breeze and a content smile on her lips. The princess decides to take advantage of the peaceful moment to ask her aunt a troubled question.

“What is it like? Being married, that is.” Jaenara’s face grows serious.

Helaena removes the beetle from her forearm with a gentle touch and places it on a leaf below.

“It doesn’t really feel like anything,” She says, though her aunt does not sound particularly bothered by the dreary thought, “Aegon does not pay me much mind. Save for the times we have…done our duty.”

Jaenara clears her throat awkwardly.

“So, I suppose it is not so bad. I am free to do as I please. As he is. Though I think Aemond will make a better lover.” Helaena finishes. Jaenara looks at her aunt as if she has three heads and scoffs. She looks back at the princess with a coy look on her face.

“What a terrifying thought.” Jaenara sounds defeated as the two women resume their walk. A calm silence passes over them once again, as does the gentle breeze.  

Helaena looks as though someone is speaking to her and finds herself gazing up at the sky for a moment - and then to her niece.

She smiles, as if the clouds have told her a secret.

— — —

On the far side of the Red Keep, The One Eyed Prince begins to lay the groundwork of his plan to put his soon-to-be wife on the Iron Throne. Aemond has decided he must get in the good graces of his family - especially Jacaerys - if he is to carry out familicide without raising any suspicion that he had a hand in it. Something easier said than done, Aemond knows. Any amount of decency he could afford the heir and his brother would be met with scrutiny. A few kind words will not undo years of victimization dealt on both sides. 

Aemond clenches his jaw as he searches for his nephews throughout the grounds of the Red Keep. Locating them had proven to be challenging, though not as much as finding their sister. Aemond knew that Jaenara had been purposefully avoiding him. One evening, he had even caught sight of her ducking into her mother’s chambers when he had turned a corner, entering the same hallway as her. Her elusion frustrated the prince. If he could not speak to the princess and build up a rapport with her, then she would assuredly be the first to point her finger at him when news of Jace’s murder came about.  

Just when Aemond is about to give up entirely, he spots Jacaerys and Lucerys in the training yard, wooden swords in hand. Aemond lurks back for a moment, watching them practice their drills. Their moves are quick and calculated, proving that his nephews had become even more skilled fighters during their time away from the Red Keep. Though their moves had a certain unrefined quality to them. Aemond finally moves from his spot, drawing nearer to the princes. Lucerys spots him first and mumbles a curse under his breath, as hid older brother turns to meet Aemond’s eyes. Aemond smirks at the boys, and he can tell it takes all of Jace’s strength not to throw down his play sword and saunter off. 

The prince stands tall over his nephews, to hide the uneasiness he feels about approaching them. He’s pulled his long, sleek hair into a bun. His own sword, a practice blade worn smooth from countless hours of swinging, hung loose at his side

The air is tense around the group and a short silence hangs over them. Clanking of wood and metal and grunts fills the yard as the princes all stare at each other.

Aemond finally clears his throat and breaks the quiet.

"You're both too cautious," he remarks in a voice that carries authority but also a hint of patience. "Don't overthink your strikes. Let them flow naturally. It's about instinct as much as it is about technique."

Jacaerys narrowed his eyes skeptically. "You must think of us as fools, uncle. Why would we listen to you? You do not practice the habit of fighting honorably - Luke and I’ve both seen that.”

And what would you know about fighting honorably? Aemond remarks to himself.

Where is the honor in gouging out a boy’s eye? 

He inhales a deep breath to calm his rising frustration.

Lucerys, ever the more reserved of the two, held his ground but watched Aemond with a cautious curiosity.

Aemond knows he should not make the jest, but before he can stop himself, the words fall from his smug mouth.

“Fools? No - I only see two Strong boys before me.” 

Both of the brother’s harden their gaze. This time, Jacaerys does take off, with Luke trailing behind.

Fuck.

“But!” Aemond is quick to add to his lecture, desperate to keep the boys where they are, “Honor in battle is not always as straightforward as the songs would have it. There are times when survival demands unconventional measures.”

“And how,” Jace has stopped and turned to face his uncle once more, “would you know anything of a real battle?”

“You forget I train with Ser Criston Cole.” “You forget we trained with Daemon Targaryen.”

Aemond chooses to bite back another remark about how - despite training with one of the realm’s most formidable soldiers, the brother’s still lacked the necessary knowledge and skills.

Instead, he walks back towards their place in the yard and motions for the Velaryons to follow him. Jace stares at him a moment, lets out an exaggerated huff and mutters, “Come on, Luke.”

At their return, Aemond demonstrates a quick feint, his movements precise. “You’re signaling your intent with your movements, Jacaerys. And Lucerys, you hesitate before every strike. Be bold, but calculated. Like this," he continued, demonstrating a fluid series of strikes and blocks. Luke, with a touch of reservation, takes up a fighting stance in front of his older brother.

Aemond nodded approvingly. "Let's try it again. And this time, don't hold back."

For the remainder of the afternoon, Aemond guided them through drills and techniques, offering pointers in between bouts. Slowly, the initial wariness between the boys and the Targaryen prince faded, replaced by a grudging respect for his skill and knowledge.

When the sun had begun to dip into the horizon, the three young heirs sheathed their swords. Aemond found a rare smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. He did not find any joy in the times he sparred with Aegon, which had been few and far between lately. His brother had no real interest in learning and bettering his skills. And Criston Cole was becoming predictable - through no fault of his own. Aemond simply had no one else to spar with that was anywhere near his level. He found unexpected fulfillment in teaching his nephews.

Jace finally deposits his wooden sword with the others in the training yard, Luke following suit. 

With a huff and an expression that makes the prince seem physically pained he tells his uncle, “Well. That was rather…I did not think I’d ever see the day where you would give us any kind of genuine advice. Nevertheless, I am…grateful for your counsel uncle.” 

“Yes. Thank you, Aemond.” Lucerys adds curtly.

Aemond gives them a nod as acknowledgment.

Naive fools.

With that, Jace and Luke begin their journey back into the Red Keep. Aemond watches the boys stride away side by side. He almost resigns himself to turning in for the day, when a thought suddenly enters his mind. 

“Do you know where I might find your sister?” He calls after them. 

Jace remains silent continuing his walk. Aemond rolls his eyes.

She has sworn them to secrecy.

Lucerys seems to take some sort of pity on his uncle after their shared afternoon - much to the dismay of Jace, “I think she spoke of spending time in the gardens…” the younger brother’s sentence trails off when he sees the look Jacaerys gives him. 

Aemond nods gratefully, though no one sees it, and sets off towards the gardens, his mind already racing. He knew spending time with Jaenara was another crucial part of his plan he needed to begin sowing the seeds for. As much as she may detest it.

The believed that if he could convincingly pretend to be infatuated with his niece, to the extent that she truly believed his feelings were genuine, it might help divert suspicion away from him regarding her brother’s eventual murder. She may even come to defend him, when the time comes. Though this would prove to be a challenge.

“You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love” Aemond’s own words from her first evening back at King’s Landing echoed in his mind.

Aemond lets out a frustrated groan and picks up his pace.

When he reaches the gardens, Aemond finds Jaenara and his sister seated on a weathered stone bench in deep discourse, while their ladies-in-waiting linger nearby, amusing themselves.

The distant laughter of the two maidens surprises Aemond and stirs a hint of a smile on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time his sister had laughed so freely. It was then, he realized, he had never heard Jaenara genuinely laugh. Everything she let out in his presence was nothing more that a scoff or dry laugh. This, he thought, was a nice change of pace. Happiness suited her.

I should leave them. Aemond’s resolve falters for a moment, and he pivots for a swift and silent retreat. Yet, his sister catches sight of him before he can vanish.

"Aemond!" Helaena's voice rings out, compelling him to sigh and reluctantly turn back to face them.

Helaena's eyes glint with mischief as she waves a hand, beckoning him over. Meanwhile, the fleeting smile on Jaenara's face vanishes, replaced by an indifferent gaze.

"Aemond," his sister greets again, her tone laced with curiosity. "Where have you been?"

"Just sparring with your brothers," Aemond replies, his gaze drifting towards Jaenara.

The surprise in Jaenara's eyes is evident and impossible to conceal.

"With Jace and Luke?" she questions, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You seem…unscathed. I trust the same can be said for my brothers?"

"It was just a training session - nothing if not civil. I only meant to give them a bit of advice," Aemond responds, a smirk playing upon his lips.

Helaena suddenly springs to her feet. "I don’t believe you two have had many opportunities to speak as of late. I will leave you to catch up" she suggests, a faraway look on her face. "I must attend to the children." Her lady-in-waiting follows closely behind as she departs.

Jaenara starts to rise, offering to assist, but Helaena insists she stay. Aemond can't help but conceal his amusement at Jaenara’s desperate state.

The princess exhales sharply and resumes her promenade through the gardens, without so much as a glance over her shoulder at Aemond. With a huff, he follows behind her, as her lady-in-waiting mirrors.

The prince wishes he could dismiss the attendant, wishing for a moment alone with Jaenara to speak without restraint. 

He thinks of another solution.

Aemond peers down at his niece and lets High Valyrian fall freely from his lips.

“You have been avoiding me.” 

Jaenara does not remove her eyes from the path in front of her.

“You have not sought me out.” She retorts, her tone cool and collected. Aemond lights up. He had not expected his niece to be fluent in their mother tongue, and hearing her voice enunciate the ancient words caused something unknown inside of him to stir. 

“I am now,” he replies evenly, “ And I have to say, I had not expected you to be so fluent in Valyrian. Not even my brother speaks it so well. That idiot can barely piece together a single sentence.” 

Jaenara laughs, “I am a Targaryen. Every Targaryen should speak their language. Understand their history.”

Aemond nods, “Something we can agree on, niece. Though I have to say, you speak it better than I thought a-”

“Then a bastard would?” Her words are laced with a bittersweet acknowledgment that catches Aemond off guard. His niece had never spoken the truth of her parentage in front of him - or anyone for that matter. In truth, Aemond found him unsettled from her acquiescence. Though he understood the only reason she dared to acknowledge the truth now, is because no one around them had a clue what she was saying. 

“You’re not laughing, uncle. Very unlike you - you who never passes up an opportunity to remind me of my blood.” Jaenara still seemed unfazed, her attention drifting to a cluster of blue irises at their feet. She bends gracefully to touch the silky petals, and Aemond finds himself captivated by the way her dark hair spills like a cascade of black silk over the blossoms. He clears his throat.

“You are to be my…ābrazȳrys (wife). I no longer wish to humiliate you over things out of your control, such as your parentage.” Aemond’s voice is steady and controlled, betraying his inner turmoil over making such remarks.

Jaenara lets out a laugh, though it sounds hollow. Much unlike the laughter she had shared with his sister. Her lady-in-waiting shifts uncomfortably behind them. “Actions speak louder than words, Aemond.” The princess rises from her spot amongst the flowers, turning to face her betrothed.

Aemond is filled with a stubborn determination at hearing her challenge, and takes a few steps towards her - until he can feel his niece’s breath fan over him. He stares down at her, and finds that he enjoys how she does not shrink under his gaze.

“Pār nyke jāhor gaomagon.” - Then I will act.

Jaenara laughs again, but it is quickly put to an end.

“I do not know why you laugh, Jaenara. I am being sincere.” His gaze is hard. 

She considers his words for a moment, and turns back to the garden path. The princess returns to the common tongue. 

"Come along, it is growing darker," Jaenara says, her voice carrying a hint of finality as she resumes their journey along the garden path. Aemond follows silently, his mind still processing the weight of their conversation. The sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the estate grounds, while a cool evening breeze stirs the leaves of ancient trees. When the couple finally reach the stone archways and paths of the Red Keep, Aemond speaks up once more. 

“You will have breakfast with me. Tomorrow” It is not a question, though his tone remains soft..

“I will?” Jaenara asks, an eyebrow raised in defiance.

“This is me taking action.” He offers her a wry smile.

Jaenara exhales and looks to her handmaiden, who skillfully avoids her gaze. “Fine. I will see you in the morning” She stomps off to her chambers, lady-in-waiting trailing behind. The princess does not get to see the small, honest smile that settles on Aemond’s lips. 

— — —

Early the next morning, Jaenara awakes to a polite knock on her chamber door. Alora, her lady-in-waiting, entered cautiously, offering a sheepish greeting. "Good morning, Your Grace."

The princess rubbed her eyes wearily and yawned. "Good morning, Alora. And please, call me Jaenara when it is just us. No need for formality in the privacy of these chambers." she replied with a tired attempt at a smile.

"Oh! Yes, my lady—I mean, Jaenara," Alora stumbled over her words, feeling conflicted over addressing a princess so casually. "Um... Aemond - the prince - sent me to assist you with dressing. He wishes to have breakfast with you?" She sounds uncertain.

Jaenara sighed lightly and pushed herself to her feet. "Very well. Let's not keep him waiting," she said, giving Alora a reassuring glance.

Alora deftly combs out Jaenara's long, ebony hair, swiftly braiding half of it and letting the rest fall down her back. As the princess gradually awakened, she engaged in light conversation with the younger girl, easing her nerves. 

With gentle assistance, Alora helped Jaenara into a splendid dress—its upper half a deep shade of black, its lower half a rich crimson. The sleeves were wrought with golden embroidery. Once satisfied with her handiwork, Alora guided Jaenara to the dining room, where Aemond awaited their arrival.

“Thank you, Alora. I think that will be all for now.” The princess smiles at her lady, dismissing her. Jaenara hesitantly pulls out a chair across from Aemond.

“Good morning.” She offers. An honest attempt at niceties. 

Aemond hums, sounding pleased. “Good morning.”

It remains quiet for a while, as the two begin to serve themselves and take a few bites of the breakfast that has been prepared. The prince steals glances at his niece, observing how her dark curls frame her face. Watching her spoon her food gracefully. Noting how her dress clings to her.

At last, Aemond ventured to break the quiet. “That dress suits you well.”

The princess pauses her cutting of a sausage. Jaenara had not expected to hear that kind of comment so early in the morning. And no less from Aemond of all people. She narrows her eyes at him.

“What?” She asks, as if offended.

Aemond pauses, mid-bite. “I only meant it as a compliment. The Targaryen colors agree with you.” 

Jaenara continues with her meal, deciding that pretending as though she had not heard her uncle was the best course of action.

Why did he say that? Does he mean to mock me?

The prince breaks the silence once more, wanting to change the subject. "I hear your mother's name day preparations have been finalized."

Jaenara swallows a mouthful of food and clears her throat. “Um…yes. I believe so. Everything should be in place by now. The ceremony will be in…five days? I believe.”

"My mother seems unusually eager for the occasion," Aemond remarked. "She and Rhaenyra have been quite chatty lately."

“You’ve noticed too?”

“It is hard not to.” Aemond admitted.

Jaenara shrugs, “True enough. Well, they seem happier anyway.”

Aemond only hums in agreement. “My mother, although…she seems to be even more excited about the wedding than the coronation ceremony.”

Jaenara sputtered on the ale served alongside their meal.

A smug grin spread across the prince's face.

“Oh? Is that so?” She asks as nonchalantly as she can. 

“Oh yes,” Aemond sounds amused, “I hear her and Rhaenyra have taken to planning a few things.”

"What!?" Now Jaenara could not hide her surprise. Her outburst drew the attention of nearby servants, and Aemond grinned at her fluttering.

“Um - I only meant. I had not known they were already planning the ceremony.” She finished, dabbing a napkin to the corners of her mouth.

“Well someone has to. We certainly have not spoken about it.” Aemond remarks.

Jaenara almost feels guilty. She searches Aemond’s eyes for any indication of regret or sadness over their lack of time together. 

“Well then…what would you like to discuss about it?” The princess makes an attempt to turn to the matter.

Aemond considers the question. “What kind of cake would you like?”

Jaenara lets out a true laugh at that, catching Aemond off guard.

“If I must tell you,” She says while catching her breath, “I am fond of lemon pastries.”

Aemond makes a noise of agreement. He recalls that her mother favors the sweets as well. “Then we shall have them.”

Jaenara looks up from her meal and the couple lock eyes. She stares intently into his, trying to decipher his unreadable expression. 

What are you doing, uncle? She is left to wonder. Jaenara feels a crack begin to form in the walls she had put up to keep Aemond out. But the fracture is filled as quickly as it appears when she considers that Aemond is simply playing his part. Putting up a charade. The princess looks at the man before her, and can only seem to remember the cruelties that he has dealt. Her heart hardens.

"Why do you care?" she questioned, her tone accusatory. Despite their heartfelt conversation in the garden the day before, Jaenara only continued in her struggle to believe in her uncle's sincerity.

“Because I want to care.” Aemond is taken aback, though he makes an effort to sound earnest.

The princess scoffs and takes a swig of ale. She rises to her feet.

“I am full.” she declares, signaling an end to the meal and perhaps to their conversation. Jaenara stands and walks the length of the table, drawing near to the door but coming close to Aemond.

That strikes a chord within the prince, “You are about as stubborn as a damn mule,” he mutters under his breath.

The retort is not lost upon the princess’ ears. Jaenara spun around abruptly, facing her uncle where he was currently still seated. "Excuse me?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Damn it," Aemond whispered to himself, closing his eyes briefly. 

“And here I thought you were being truthful yesterday when you said you no longer meant to belittle me.” She bites.

Some unseen force compelled Aemond onward. He reached out and gently but firmly grasped his niece's wrist.

"I only meant..." He struggled to find the right words. "Gods, you're infuriating."

Jaenara felt a stirring within her at his touch, but she pushed the sensation aside, focusing instead on his words. "I’m infuriating?" 

Now, Aemond raises his voice. “Yes! Infuriating. I am making a sincere effort to get to know you, and I am met with nothing but resistance. There is nothing we can do to change the marriage we will soon find ourselves in,” He rises from his chair, hand still gripped around Jaenara, “but I am making a sincere attempt to make it more bearable. For you.”

A part of Aemond understood that his words were primarily to uphold a facade, to maintain the illusion of feigned interest in his niece. Yet another part of him recognized sincerity in his sentiments. He couldn't help but feel pity for Jaenara. This thought had crossed his mind repeatedly—in the quiet of his chambers, in the stillness of the night, and even yesterday as he watched her depart from the estate gardens. She had undoubtedly drawn the short straw amidst their betrothal.

Jaenara Velaryon was being forced to marry Aemond, a scarred and flawed second son by his own reckoning. While Aemond had initially perceived the proposal of marriage to his own bastard niece as an insult, he couldn't deny the faint attraction he harbored towards her— a sentiment he was certain she did not reciprocate. 

The princess regarded her uncle with a peculiar mix of curiosity and contemplation, allowing his words to sink in. Jaenara's relationship with her uncle had always been incredibly strained — tense. Yet, as she observed the furrow in his brow and the genuine anguish in his eyes, she sensed a truth in his earnest plea. She reflected on her initial hopes—that they might spend their lives avoiding each other, barely exchanging words. Yet, standing before him now, she reconsidered. If Aemond—of all people—could muster some semblance of kindness, however feigned, Jaenara resolved she could reciprocate. Even if it was nothing but a lie. 

For in the convoluted dance of courtly alliances and familial expectations, sometimes even the semblance of civility could hold more weight than honesty in securing fragile peace.

With hesitant resolve, she reached out, gently clasping his hand in hers. Aemond feels goosebumps form on his skin from the additional contact. 

"Aemond," she began quietly, meeting his gaze squarely. He makes an effort to memorize how his name sounds on her lips.

Gods be damned, he thought. 

"I apologize. I hadn't fully appreciated your efforts. You are right. For this marriage to have any chance of contentment and peace, we must find common ground. We must make an effort to get to know each other."

The princess finished her apology, her words hanging in the air between them. All Aemond could manage in response was a silent nod, fearing that his mouth would betray him if he were to open it.

Jaenara withdrew her hand from his with a slight hesitation. "Well…I should be going. I intend to meet with my mother to discuss our impending wedding. There is much to plan," she added, her voice faltering slightly as she hurried out of the room.

Aemond stood there, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He glanced down at the hand that had briefly held his niece's, flexing his fingers thoughtfully, a mixture of uncertainty and determination swirling within him.

A/N: As you may have noticed, this chapter is structured a little differently! I decided to make these changes for narrative purposes/so everything flows better. Because of this, I will be revising the previous two chapters, so the next chapter may take a little longer to come out (I also have a job interview coming up, so I will be doing a lot more than just brainstorming and writing now T-T) Anyways! As always, thank you for reading :)

Tags: @toodlesxcuddles

[preciadosbass]

INTRO 👾

🦴# i’m jaime, 14, scenemo, and i talk a lot. my favourite people are: jaime preciado, chi cheng, sam rivers, max green, patrick stump, spencer smith, paul gray, leigh whannell, mikey way, kellin quinn, + lots more

◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️▪️

🕷️# favourite bands (brace yourself): pierce the veil, get scared, gerard way, the used, escape the fate, under oath, sleeping with sirens, falling in reverse, fall out boy, jaime preciado, mcr, ls dunes, frank iero, hawthorne heights, alesena, [pre split + post split] panic! at the disco, skinless, rob zombie, leathermouth, good charlotte, the smashing pumpkins, korn, bullet for my valentine, peelingflesh, all time low, attack attack!, shoot the girl first, deadbeat nightlife, never shout never, picture me broken, chomp chomp attack! etc

🎮# interests: [special interests] plane crashes, mass tradgedies, psychology, true crime, zombie apocalypses, vampires, alt fashion [hyperfixations] chi cheng + jaime preciado, urbex/wildlife photography, saw, roller coaster crashes, alt music/scenes, horror. [films/series] jackass, trainspotting, skins (uk), final destination, saw, coraline, jennifer’s body, austin powers, the last of us, silent hill, resident evil, edward scissor hands, pearl, stay, any crime series +

🗝️# hobbies: journaling [obviously], listening to music, collecting cds/vinyl, collage, make pins/diy clothes + accessories, urbex/wildlife photography, going on walks, making ocs, rollerblading, making patches, attending concerts +

🐗# extra info: AUDHD [hence why everything is so interest based with me], chronic oversharer, possible TW for any diary posts [not an ed blog, i just vent] [concerts] attended: cavalera conspiracy/23, pierce the veil/24. upcoming: slipknot/dec, falling in reverse/dec. my posts will consist of band related reposts, inconsistent journaling, my photography and whatever else i feel like putting out. only been in the scene for 2ish years.

‘key’ for if your going to read any of my journals: boris — my cat, prevision — a keyworker i have to see instead of being taken back into mainstream education. i generally see two once a week, tuesday and thursday. acquaintance — somebody i just know. they’re not my friend, they’re not nice to me-i just know them.

if your interested in any of the same things as me/also journal/also from the uk [etc] please moot me !!

enjoy your day/night O_o

[vettelsvee]

NIGHT CHANGES SERIES | Mick Schumacher

f1 masterlist | ask me anything or let's talk! driver x oc version available on wattpad on august 30th

mick schumacher x cook!reader | based on december 2020

for more information to the reader: ❥ as said before, this short series will take place during december 2020 in spain. covid will exist. also, michael will be an active character in this series and remember, this is all fictional and doesn't represent reality. ❥ it contains holiday romance and stranger to lovers tropes. ❥ some parts might include sensitive content. pay attention to trigger warnings at the beginning of each part. ❥ english is not my first language so apologies for any mistakes that you can read here!

started: AUGUST 28TH 2024 currently status: on going | last updated: august 28th masterlist under the cut !

taglist: [feel free to tell me so i can tag you and you don't miss anything!]

a/n: we're back at this! I promise this one and oscar's one i'm posting too are the series i'm posting for now :) idk what's wrong with me and my brain as i have way too many ideas i hate it here actually

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Despite being the son of one of the most famous faces in Formula 1, Mick Schumacher knew all too well what it meant to not only give his everything for years to achieve what he desired most in the world but also to do so while carrying a weight on his shoulders that he could never shed.

The moment the young driver is announced as part of the Haas team for the upcoming 2021 season after years of sacrifice and dedication, in addition to bearing the burden of keeping his father’s real health condition hidden from the public eye, he realizes that he has only just begun his new journey and is already suffering its consequences. The huge amount of comments was quite noticeable, especially the negative ones, which only made the young man seriously question whether he had made the wrong choice, or if the expectations, pressure, and constant comparisons to Michael were getting the better of him.

In an attempt to calm himself and rid his mind of these thoughts, Mick decides to leave home with nothing more than his car and a bag of clothes, without offering any explanation or farewell. Most importantly, he doesn’t realize that this very decision will lead him to meet Y/N, a girl who will help him realize that perhaps he was worrying too much about what might happen in the future instead of focusing on the moment and enjoying it.

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night they joined the Bloodrite

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: angst, mentions of abuse and violence

summary: Valeria bids farewell to Rhys, Cass and Az as they are to particpate in the bloodrite, hoping they all return to her.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection of imagines that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. I couldn't help myself and post this imagine today. As promised, things are about to get angsty and sad. There will also be more explanations to what unfolds here in the upcoming imagines.

**

The day had arrived when the men in her life, her closest and dearest, prepared for their participation in the upcoming Bloodrite. A formidable Illyrian tradition that tested their strength and valor. It was such a pivotal time for Illyrian males of age, so much that the High Lord of the Night Court graced Windhaven with his regal presence to bid his son and heir luck and farewell.

However, for Valeria, the sight struck a chord of envy. Her father made sure to show up and extend his support to Rhysand but he had failed to do the same for her birthday dinner just last week.

 Lady Yvaine, standing by Valeria’s side, sensed her daughter’s emotions and offered a comforting squeeze before letting it go. The three of them had stopped by Windhaven’s tents in the training grounds of the camp, where all Illyrian males participating in the bloodrite would spend the night before being winnowed to the guarded Ramiel, Illyria's sacred mountain.

The morning sun cast a golden hue over the training grounds as Valeria stood among her brother and his closest friends—Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel. The air was tense with a mix of excitement, anticipation, and underlying worry. She stared at all three of them. Sensing her distress, Noctis, perched on her shoulder as always, tenderly nuzzled his small head against her neck in a sweet caress.

“Please come back to me.” Valeria said, her voice carrying an almost desperate plea. “All three of you.”

Cassian grinned, his usual bravado shining through. "You know us, Val. We'll make sure to come back in one piece and be victorious."

Cassian had come prepared to say his farewells to Valeria. Since he knew his charming grin and words would not be enough to ease her anxiety, he pulled something out of his small satchel. Valeria’s eyes landed on the book...a gift for her.

“I meant to give this to you for your birthday but knowing you, you would’ve finished it by now.”

Valeria stared down at the book in her hands. The title hinted at a romance novel but a subtle gesture from him hinted that there was more beneath the cover. She discreetly peeled the cover off to reveal a book on Illyrian training and fighting. Her heart swelled at his gesture. Cassian had always been encouraging to her interest for training and fighting.

A note on the first page bore a handwritten message: For my little warrior, may the wind always guide your wings.

Valeria chuckled as her gaze fell to the bottom of the page where another message was written: P.S. please don’t cause any chaos while we’re gone. You know I have a great fear of missing out on the fun.

“Think of this as your homework while I’m gone. I want you to read it”--Sensing the determination in Valeria, he decided to add–”at a steady pace and when I return, I want you to show me what you have learned.”

Valeria nodded appreciatively. “I’ll do just that. Thank you, Cas.”

She proceeded to envelop Cassian in a warm, tight hug. He chuckled lightly as Noctis emitted a small squawk, momentarily caught off guard by the strong embrace, before adjusting himself.

“I didn’t know you enjoyed romance novels so much.” Rhysand quipped, noticing the faint smile on Valeria’s face.

“Only the ones Tanwyn recommends.” Valeria quickly hid the truth of the book's content from her brother, who wouldn't have approved of such reading material, especially not when their father was around.

Valeria tried her best to hide her worry as she looked at her brother. She knew he was capable–they all were. Yet she was unable to shake off the fear that gnawed at her heart. So many what ifs plagued her thoughts. Sensing her worry and anxiety, Rhysand stepped forward as Cassian excused himself to say his farewells with their mother, who was currently hugging Azriel.

Rhysand, though masked with confidence, showed a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "We'll be back before you know it." He assured her.

He pulled her into a tight hug, being careful as to not hurt the bird that was perched on top of her shoulders as Cassian did moments ago. That damn bird, he couldn’t help but think, a mix of annoyance and strange fondness swirling within him. 

 “I love you, Val.”

“I love you too, Rhys.” Valeria replied, squeezing her brother’s hands. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, as if engraving the image of her older brother into her mind. Stop, she told herself. Your brother will come back. They all will.

I promise, Rhysand whispered into her mind.

She had been so consumed in her thoughts that her mental shields wavered, allowing him to enter with ease. He then projected an image of his arm, that was currently concealed by his leathers. Intricate black swirls etched themselves into the form of a mountain with three stars above its peak.

Valeria felt a tingling sensation on her own arm, mirroring the pattern of black ink Rhysand showed her. A bargain tattoo. A mountain with three stars–Ramiel–a promise of his definite return, bringing a small sense of ease to her.

Rhysand gently withdrew, shifting his attention to Noctis. “Keep her safe for me, Noctis.”

Noctis responded with a strong chirp, bowing his head and extending his wings in promise. Rhysand felt a sense of gratitude toward the bird. Something he'd never thought he'd feel toward the small creature whose chirping often got on his nerves. Pressing a brief kiss to his sister’s forehead and a pet to Noctis’s head, Rhysand went to join Cassian and say his farewells to their parents.

Azriel seized the moment to bid his farewell to Valeria. Noctis let out a chirp as he spread his wings and flew to Azriel, finding temporary shelter on the Shadowsinger’s shoulders. Azriel’s shadows greeted the bird as a dear friend, embracing Noctis with their gentle tendrils of darkness.

“I don’t know who will miss you more. Me or Noctis.” Valeria mused with a soft smile on her lips.

Azriel chuckled as he stepped forward, bridging the space between them. There was so much he wanted to say to Valeria, but he knew he had to be careful with his words. 

His shadows, now displaying a playful dance of joy over his shoulders, redirected their attention from Noctis to Valeria. They caressed her cheek tenderly and then her neck. Azriel’s eyes followed their every movement, pausing at the necklace she wore. It was the necklace Azriel gifted her on her birthday. An elegant silver piece that beheld a mesmerizing moonstone, which was delicately cradled within a silver frame shaped like a crescent moon. 

Valeria’s heart quickened its pace as Azriel, with a tenderness that spoke volumes, brushed against the moonstone wrapped around her neck.

A faint smile graced his lips, a rush of warmth filling him, at the sight of her wearing his gift. The moonstone with its ethereal, milky hue, captured and reflected the light in a way that reminded him of her own unique powers.

For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a delicate coil–a fine thread of gold and silver–radiate from the necklace. It vanished as swiftly as it had appeared, disappearing within the blink of an eye.

"I'll wear it every day, waiting for your return," Valeria assured him.

"Only until I return?" Azriel teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

"You know what I mean," Valeria replied, her cheeks flushing with warmth.

"Hmm," Azriel hummed, his touch lingering as he softly grazed from her neck to her cheek, mirroring the caress of his shadows. His breath caught as her free hand sought his free hand, her thumb gently tracing soothing circles on the back of his scarred hand.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Az.” Valeria said softly, her violet eyes looking up at him with a depth he had never seen before. He had never been this close to her. He could appreciate the details in her violet irises he hadn’t noticed before. They were a delicate kaleidoscope of purple and blue hues, swirling like a myriad of galaxies within a vast universe.

A universe he desperately yearned to explore and unravel.

A surge of emotion washed over Azriel, a longing to express what had been growing inside him for so long. He wanted to kiss her, to show how much she meant to him. Despite his confidence in his abilities as an Illyrian warrior, a small fear lingered…that this could be his one and only chance to kiss her, to taste her. 

He leaned in, his breath fanning her face.

But he hesitated at the very last moment and pulled away, his fingers brushing over her lips instead. An unspoken promise. An assurance that he would kiss her. But at a different time.

Perhaps, upon his triumphant return from the bloodrite.

 “And I'll be sure to return to you, Val.” He finally managed to say, gently removing his hand from her face.

The weight of the unspoken hung in the air and all of his shadows returned to him, displaying disappointment and seeming to chastise him for his shyness. Even Noctis seemed to shoot him a look as he returned to Valeria’s shoulder. 

Valeria, too, felt a flicker of disappointment as she reluctantly increased the distance between them, her grip loosening on his hand.

She turned her gaze with worry and anxiety, wondering if anyone had seen them. However, a sense of relief washed over her as she realized Cassian and Rhysand were still engrossed in conversation with her parents, oblivious to what had just happened between Azriel and herself.

She didn’t even know what to call it herself, but surely, he was about to kiss her right? She quickly strengthened her mental shields at the thought.

The two walked over to the group to say their final goodbyes. Lady Yvaine pulled Valeria into her side, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulder. Unknowing to Valeria or Azriel, her mother had noticed their close embrace and provided a distraction for them to have their moment. 

With a heavy heart, Valeria watched as the three men she treasured the most departed. She stood there, the weight of their absence already felt in her heart and the unknown outcomes weighing heavily on her mind...

**

The crisp air kissed Valeria's cheeks as she glided gracefully across the frozen lake, her skates leaving imprints on the ice. Mallory, her friend, was her companion on this chilly afternoon. Noctis watched with interest from on top of a tree branch as the girls danced around one another. It wouldn’t be long before their cherished frozen lake would thin and eventually melt as spring was already vastly approaching.

Despite the sun shining down on them, Valeria felt a sudden shiver racing down her spine. Windhaven’s winds were always chilling and unforgiving when present. Mallory, noticing her friend's discomfort, swiftly unwound the large gray shawl from her shoulders and offered it to Valeria.

"Here, take this. It'll keep you warm," Mallory insisted, a warm and caring smile gracing her lips.

Valeria protested, not wanting to trouble her friend, but Mallory persisted. "It makes your eyes pop out even more," she chuckled, draping the shawl around her friend’s shoulder, using any excuse to keep Valeria from protesting further.

“They’ll be fine, Val.” Mallory said, sensing that there was still an unease in Valeria. She was well aware that tonight was the eve before the cruel initiation of the annual bloodrite. “They’ll be back before you know it.”

Valeria smiled at her friend, grateful for the reassurance but her smile faltered as her gaze fell upon Mallory's bare neck. Bruises littered her neck.

“Mal–” She began.

Mallory’s eyes widened in realization, suddenly feeling small under her friend's worried gaze. “It’s nothing–”

“Nothing?” Valeria replied, incredulously.

This wasn’t the first time she had witnessed bruises and injuries on her dear friend. It brought her immense sadness to see her friend suffer at the hands of her abusive father. She had offered for Mallory to stay and live at her house but every time, Mallory refused, knowing the depths her father would go to get her back.

“Shit,” Mallory let out a frustrated curse as she spared a glance to her watch. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I promised I’d be home well before sundown.”

“Do you want me to walk you?” Valeria said, concerned laced in her tone.

“No.” Mallory shook her head, a hint of worry in her brown eyes. “It’ll only make things worse.”

“I’ll see you in two days?” Valeria suggested. “I can bring the jewelry box you left at my house from my birthday then.”

“Yeah,” Mallory replied with a grateful smile. “I’ll see you in two days.”

They exchanged a hug. Valeria was unable to shake off her concern for her friend, her mind already racing with new ideas on how she could help Mallory in her situation. She was lost in thought, preoccupied with finding solutions, that she didn’t notice the discreet note Mallory slipped into the gray shawl she wore. 

**

Two days later, Valeria found herself at the cherished frozen lake. The snow was melting under the sun’s warmth. She knelt down beside the lake and applied pressure to the thinning ice. A sharp cracking sound filled the air and before she could react, the ice gave way beneath her hand. She let out a startled yelp as her hand plunged into the cold embrace of the lake.

In her moment of panic, Noctis sprang into action, flying from her shoulder and desperately pecking at the back of her coat in a frantic attempt to pull her away from the cold water. 

Frowning, she felt the weight of disappointment settle in her heart as she stared at the now broken patch of the once-frozen lake. The lake was not safe to skate in anymore. She cradled her trembling hand to her chest.

The minutes ticked by, and Valeria chose to wait for Mallory, contemplating how her friend would take the news about the lake.

But Mallory never came.

**

The next morning Valeria set out to find Mallory.

She was worried about her friend. The last time Mallory had failed to meet her at the lake was when she fell sick with the flu and Valeria couldn’t shake off the foreboding feeling that something might be terribly wrong, especially after seeing those bruises. It had been awhile since she last saw her friend hurt by the hands of her father and she wondered if Mallory had just gotten better hiding her injuries.

Her destination was the quaint little shop where Mallory's family worked. However, what she encountered there shattered any chance of morning calm and relief.

A wicked grin adorned a man's face. He stood behind the counter, where Mallory usually did, his eyes cruel and devoid of light. It was Mallory's father. 

“Hello,” Valeria greeted warily, trying to peek out from behind his shoulders. She hoped to see the silhouette of her friend from behind the beaded curtains. Noctis did the same.  “Is Mal here?”

“No,” came the curt reply.

Unease settled within Valeria as she pressed on, trying to remain polite. “Could you please let her know I came looking for her?”

“Don’t bother.” He sneered.

Valeria furrowed her brows together, causing Mallory’s father to laugh. It cut through the air, a cruel sound that sent shivers down her spine.

“Sweet ol’ Mal decided to partake in this year’s Bloodrite.” 

Valeria felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart sinking like an anchor. A mixture of worry, confusion, and disbelief swirled within her. The revelation hit her like a sudden gust of icy wind, leaving her breathless and reeling. 

She could feel it–the all too familiar overwhelming prickling sensation that ignited in her bones. Her powers. They surged through her, awakened by the storm of emotions raging within. The necklace adorning her neck began to shimmer, recognizing and resonating with her abilities. She contemplated finally putting her powers to use, yearning to harness them as they wished. 

But the consequences of losing control in Windhaven were far too great. She had to leave. Now.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, the silver glow barely contained within them. She turned away from Mallory’s father and ran. Noctis followed, flying over her head and managing to keep up with her despite his undersized wing. She ran and ran until the taunting echoes of Mallory’s father’s laughter faded into the distance, until she could no longer hear the cruel words that echoed in her mind.

But new words came forward, replacing Mallory's father's. They were the words Rhysand had said to her when she had asked about females participating in the bloodrite:

“It’s a cruel way for fathers to punish their daughters, an excuse to slaughter them without getting their hands dirty themselves.”

There were no words to convey the tempest of emotions that continued to rage within her. She fell to her knees, a couple of feet away from the steps to her house.

But the tears wouldn’t come.

All she felt was cold and numb, much like she had when her hand broke through the frozen lake’s surface. 

**

A/N: I really liked the idea of Rhysand's mother catching on to the growing bond between Val and Az. Also, there will be more revealed about Mallory in the next imagine.

Tag list: @justrepostandlove @kemillyfreitas @thelov3lybookworm

[cosmiconix]

Dr. Bauer: Now Steven, the sky voice is about to make an announcement about the household's "Hallows Ball", something about how to participate & whatnot. Be a dear & say hello. Stevie: Oh...okay... *starts waving*

Dr. Bauer: I can HEAR you Carlos! (Cosmo: Yep, what he says is true. I'm making this post to talk about the upcoming Hallows Ball that I'll be throwing this year. And I'm going to pin this post so that everyone will be able to find it & get the information they need about the party. I know it's really early for this, but I figured that if I addressed the preparations early & lay down the rules & what to do to participate, it would give anyone who wants to join plenty of time to prepare & not have to worry about making room in their own schedules during the holiday season! And it won't interrupt any of their own holiday plans either, making the party that much easier to join. 😊 For this year, I've decided this year's Hallows Ball is going to be an open party, so you won't need an invitation to join the fun, if it doesn't quite work out as well as I intend it to, then next year I'll go back to personal invitations. And this time, I'll try to be as clear as possible on how exactly to participate in this fun activity, so it all makes more sense. Please do read all the way through this post to gain all the information necessary for joining this year's Ball. How to participate: If you choose to participate, you have to draw or write your character/characters wearing a costume with the exact same theme as the party. (Example I'll be using: Unicorn theme.) If the Ball's theme is unicorns, then your ocs or characters of choice must dress up in a unicorn themed costume. Now, you can draw any kind of unicorn themed costume you want, black & white, sparkly, non-magical, whatever, as long as the costume in question is a unicorn. You do have the option to draw as many characters as you'd like, & from whatever fandom you want, it's completely up to you, get creative! Once you've completed your piece, post your work to your tumblr blog on October 31st; & tag me @cosmiconix in your post, when you tag me, I'll be notified about your submission & head on over to your blog to reblog your creation, that way everyone on my blog can see your brilliant creation & your characters will be able to enjoy the evening with everyone else at the Ball! Remember, if your post doesn't have a tag, I won't be notified about your submission & might miss it when the time of the Ball arrives. So remember the tag me! 😄 Now, for the sake of the children within mine & everyone else's audiences, the submission cannot be too explicit or offensive in any way, you can have a little bit of blood for like a zombie unicorn or make it a tad bit spicy if you're drawing a couple, but nothing that's too crazy for the kids. But definitely nothing hateful or offensive. If your submission for the Hallows Ball does not match the theme, is too inappropriate, or hateful/offensive in any way, I will not reblog your work to my blog & will resort back to personal invitations, the party is meant to be fun & enjoyable for all the guests who wish to join. So please take this note into consideration when drawing or writing your work for the party. It's greatly & deeply appreciated by me & all who wish to join the fun. 😊 Okay! Thank you so much for reading this post & understanding the rules & instructions on how to participate, if you have a question, please do comment down below & I will respond when I can, then I will add the information to this post via an update to further inform anyone who may have the same question. Now, I will be posting a poll to decide which theme this year's party is going to be soon so stay tuned for when that appears, it's gonna be good! 😆✨

[be-my-ally]

Snowballs and Kisses

Hello darlings!! Merry Christmas! I hope everyone celebrating has a wonderful day, and everyone for whom it is a usual monday has a better than usual start to the week!! 

I have been MIA the last few weeks on here, but never fear I have been busy behind the scenes and hopefully more things and fics will be finished very soon!! I cannot wait for my little new year break, and *finally* catching up on all the stuff I've missed!! In the meantime as a ittle teeny tiny Christmas gift please enjoy this timeskip for my Splashing Around ‘verse to Christmas Eve 1960 and my shameless OC self insert of what I’d like to gift Elvis. 

a/n not totally accurate weather references: it didn’t actually snow in memphis in the latter half of 1959 but, this is fanfiction after all and it *was* very cold november 18th 1959. (I also cut a whole 4k of angst that will come out at some point as a separate chapter, Anita getting a poodle, and the colonel dressed as santa because honestly i just wanted to write and read fluff, but here's a warning that there may end up being more festive fics posted…a little late). 

warnings: 18+, smut lite; gentle fingering and references to cumming in pants. UNEDITED

Graceland - December 1960 

The excitement of having Elvis back at home for the festive season was only slightly tempered by the knowledge that it was his first Christmas at home without his mother. He’d not really tried to celebrate properly in Germany; sure they’d done the best they could, and he raved about the gift of a fully dressed tree for weeks,  but it hadn’t been the same as it would have been at home. 

This year though, Elvis seemed determined to restore the festive spirit. Perhaps even further than just restoration - an attempt to make it as bright and jolly as possible in response to both his mother’s passing, and missing the last two. He’d bragged to anyone who would listen about how excited he was to give out presents, his plans for even more lights than ever before; signs and lawn decorations.

While Louise was excited, it had left her in an almost constant state of anxiety, Christmas wasn’t just about the gift-giving… but it was a large enough part of it that it’s where her mind immediately went. From the moment he suggested they hang at Graceland that first year, from the first time they’d all pored over the letter to Frances, and his promises to “have a ball next Christmas”, giggling and whispering about what fun they were going to have the following year. From all of those times Louise had been preoccupied with what to get him and whether her secret plan was good enough for Elvis of all people. 

That first year he had reiterated to them all and was absolutely adamant no-one needed to gift him anything and wouldn’t hear of anything being sent over to him. But his frequent calls and mentions of the upcoming holiday belied his actual feelings and besides, Louise wanted him to feel special. Wanted him to know they’d been thinking of him as much as he must have missed being home. It wasn’t until the 27th of November and the slightest of snowfalls had occurred, tiny little snowflakes, delicately falling down when the temperature had dropped just enough for the rain to crystallise when a flash of inspiration hit her. She couldn’t send it, so instead she’d waited patiently, adding to her bundle throughout the months. Now that it was almost time to give it though she was second-guessing that two year decision. Was it too juvenile? It’s just so tricky to buy for the man who literally has anything he could ever wish for. As the festive period hurtles on she resigns herself to having to hunt for a back-up gift…maybe a nice sweater. Maybe that will do.  Or maybe it’s best to have options. 

Elvis’ melancholia about the holiday doesn’t seem to stretch into Christmas Eve, and he encourages them with all the enthusiasm he’s ever had. The party starts from mid-afternoon and stretches long into the evening and night with all the makings of an excellent time from the music to the food until eventually they all find themselves around the extravagant tree to exchange presents. It’s a little chaotic, so many people about and frequently someone’s having to dive from room to room to fetch people or hidden gifts. Louise finds it almost dizzying when she finally manages to take a seat on the long sofa, catching her breath from being sent to find someone. She was already finding herself struggling to think whenever she glanced over at Elvis - he looked outrageously good in a white shirt, black trousers - well, he looked outrageously good all the time at the moment - but there was something about the feeling in the air of the day that made it all the harder to act natural around him. Elvis had been quiet for a moment, but now he was sat on his armchair across the room, looking for all the world like a king on a throne ready to bestow his generosity on the peasants. Except, that’s not the feeling in the room at all; it’s jolly and wonderful, picture perfect - all of them slightly tipsy on champagne and vodka cocktails and finding the evening all the more entertaining for it. He announces he wants to give the presents that he’s bought everyone before he opens his own, and Louise dips her eyes when he hands her a little bow-tied box. No-one else’s comes with a ribbon and she strokes it, feeling a glow emanating from her stomach and chest as she imagines his nimble fingers tying it on, totally ignoring the fact that she knows someone else probably wrapped it for him. Still, she tugs it off to hide from the others - not wanting to be teased about how such a little gesture has made her blush so strongly - and tucks it into her palm, fully intending on slipping it into her shoe or around her wrist in a moment, knowing she’ll keep it forever - wear it in her hair like a declaration.

When she looks back up everyone has a similar box and she opens it quickly in case they’re all the same - she doesn’t want to ruin her surprise. There, nestled in a little velvet box is a ring, a huge, gaudy red stone in the centre, almost too big for her finger.  Louise is transfixed, staring at it, barely a thought in her head as she tries to wrap her head around the way it sparkles in the light. Despite the size of the gem, the band was more than a little small when she tries to slip it on, and she quietly puts it back into the box, not wanting to draw attention to her apparently larger than expected fingers. She glances around, suddenly coming out of her shocked obliviousness. Her face falling when she realises that everyone around her is unboxing similarly precious jewellery. She’s resigning herself to having to sneak it off to get it resized and hating herself a little for it, wondering if there are exercises she could do or maybe a special diet to shrink her fingers to size, when she suddenly realises all the other girls are turning each-other around, kissing Elvis on the cheek in thanks, or asking him to clasp their new necklaces. Louise looks back down at her box and the others. What does a ring mean? It’s been gifted with such casualness that it can’t possibly mean anything can it? When she looks back up Elvis is staring right at her, and she makes eye contact with him - her wide eyes meeting his laughing ones. He winks, and turns back to Red. She tries her best to distract herself from it, ooh and aahing over everyone else’s and keeping quiet about the little box clutched tight in her hand. 

Half hour later Elvis is admiring his own little haul, when he catches her eye again, 

“You forget about me Lou?” Louise cringes at being called out so publicly, 

“Of course not!” She looks around the room, at the large group gathered there, “No, uh, why don’t you, well I’ve gotten you something else….It’s a sweater. It’s not great really, but I… your real gift I’ve made you, but,” She swallows building her courage, unsure why she’s so nervous suddenly when she’d been so excited for so long; the whole idea just seemed juvenile and silly now. “… you’ve gotta follow me for it.” He stares into her eyes for a second, before nodding and standing up, gesturing at her as if to say ‘lead the way’. 

He grins at the boys when they walk out, making a salacious movement as if to suggest her gift may not be all too family-friendly to accompanying guffaws of laughter. She ignores it, even as her tummy churns; should she be offering that? Is that what he wants these days?

“Don’t laugh.” She asks nervously as they walk into the little pantry. Elvis looks bemused to find himself there, leaning against the wall of the tiny space 

“I won’t” Louise nods, shutting the door, only to hear Elvis giggle, “You tryin’ to get me alone, doll?” 

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“One hell of a christmas present! to be locked in a cupboard with a pretty little gal.” 

She rolls her eyes, wiggling past him to get to the freezer, 

“Close your eyes.” He obediently does so, and she reaches into an old box of ice-cream to pull out a Tupperware, “Hold your hands out.” And she puts it in his cupped fingers, “Ok…open.” He blinks down at the Tupperware.

“Um. Well, thanks, I’m uh, sure this will be useful.” Louise rolls her eyes, impatiently tugging off the lid herself, “Oh.” Elvis goes silent, staring at the three perfect, teeny snowballs balanced in the tub. Each resting upon a little piece of paper with Louise’s very best cursive handwriting spelling out the date; December 12th 1958, 18th November 1959, and 20th December 1960.  

The silence stretches as Elvis stares at the box, and Louise starts to ramble nervously,  “I was starting to panic this year, but at least I’d thought to pick some up back in January — it snowed so heavy on the 5th.  I think it was, or maybe the 15th? I’ll have to check my diary… so I mean it isn’t entirely accurate that it’s all from the 20th - but I mean, I had to have something and well I know how much you loved it when, when your mother… and I wanted you to know I’ve been thinkin’ of you non-stop while you were away. So, here, the first snow from the garden from every year you missed.” Elvis is still staring at the box, one finger poking each little round ball. 

“This really snow from two years ago?” 

“Uh-huh… I mean I don’t know what you’re gonna do with it now, but it really is… been in that box in the freezer this whole time…I hid it from everyone. Every time someone said they wanted some ice cream I panicked.”  

“Lou.” 

“‘M sorry this is really stupid, god - what are you gonna do with some snowballs, I should’ve gone in with the other girls, got you something really good… I just - well, I thought you’d like it and I know you misse-”

“Baby, I don’t, I don’t know what to say. I… I didn’t think anyone would think of me like this, like mama did, ever again. I - well, thank you, Lou darling, this is, well, its the best damn gift I’ve ever gotten.” He grabs her arm, tugging her to him - pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, the force of it surprising her.  “I’m gonna show everyone - c’mon - quick before they melt.” He runs out of the kitchen, leaving Louise to follow meekly behind. 

He shows them off like he’s a new father, proudly holding them up in the box, delicately picking one of them up and sighing at it, holding it up at the light for everyone to marvel at. It’s a little ridiculous in some ways - everyone in the room had been gifted something hugely lavish, and yet the thing  everyone was talking and gossiping at was a snowball. 

Hours later the party finally winds down enough that Louise realises she’s one of the last few stragglers of a night so late it’s turned into Christmas morning. How she’d ended up in this position she’ll never know, and she questions it herself as she stands quietly in the doorway, watching Elvis fumble on the piano. Just his fiddling is beautiful, little snippets of remembered carols, before he hammers onto the keys, singing along to Santa Claus is Back in Town. Louise can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes her and he looks up at her, smiling almost teasingly, perfect glint in his eye as he pauses for a second to run a hand through his hair before he continues for another verse and a half. He stops almost abruptly, standing up to stretch before turning to her. She’s trying to find the words to explain how beautiful it was, how perfect he sounds - how she can feel it throughout her whole being, but before she can express those sentiments he’s in front of her and grasping her hand. 

“C’mon,” He tugs her over to the armchair he’d been sat in earlier in the evening, “Over here hon, that’s it - you’re the last.” Elvis throws himself onto the chair, holding onto her, pulling her stumbling body against his. “You’re the last of my girls left…” He sighs melodramatically and Louise giggles uncontrollably back at him. She’d had an illicit two glasses and a half of champagne earlier in the evening; Elvis had playfully wagged his finger at her as she’d accepted it from Red although she’d seen him have more than a few drinks himself. She can feel the bubbles still settling into her tummy and head, fuzzing her thoughts a little and making her giggly and affectionate. Still, she wasn’t so tipsy she couldn’t call out his overdramatic behaviour. 

“They’ve just gone home for the night. They’ll be back tomorrow I’m sure.”  She shakes her head. He ignores her, crying out, 

“I’m all alone!” He tugs her by her elbow, catching her as she stumbles into his lap, pulling her onto him, flattening her wide skirt. It wasn’t really the fashion anymore but while she’d been momentarily hesitant about her holiday dress she wasn’t self-conscious, and she liked how it made her shape look. Some might suggest the bow and petticoats were juvenile, but it made her feel more adult than the tighter styles that were starting to become popular with her peers, more herself than playing dress-up. 

She snuggles under his arm, head pillowed on his chest, cheeks pressed against the little buttons of his shirt. He pretends to choke at her hair brushing his nose, using his free hand to flatten it under his chin and she grins, shivering against him as his breath tickles her skin. They stay cuddled for a few moments, sinking into the kind of happy exhaustion that seems to only occur on holidays. It feels different than before, although Elvis is more similarly carefree than she’d seen him in a long time. He’d grown up a lot over the years she hadn’t seen him, or so it felt, and his adultness didn’t match the image of him playing and fooling around that she had in her head. It’s an awful feeling, she thinks, that even with him right there, surrounding her, she still longs for a little more of the playfulness of the past.

Suddenly though Elvis shifts, interrupting her thoughts and murmuring against the top of her head, 

“Y’hear that?” Louise stops breathing, and all she can hear is the solid thump-thump of his heart against her ear, he waits a second but she can’t work out what he’s referring to and doesn’t respond, he gasps “There it is again! Do you hear it?” 

Louise shakes her head against him, frowning a little, “No?” She tries really hard to listen out, but other than the faintest hint of the music from the boys in the other room she can’t hear a thing. “The music?”  

“No! No, listen.” He puts his finger to his lips, shushing her,

“I really don’t hear anything Elvis.” He wraps his arm around her waist a little tighter, tugging her up so she was sat more upright on his knee, her face close to his. He whispers into her ear, 

“I think I hear hooves…” Louise frowns, 

“Hooves!?” God, it would be just her luck that he’d gone and bought her a horse or something, and she’d have to act grateful even though she was terrified of them.  

“Mmhmm, that’s right.” His hand rises up to brush across her back gently, fingertips dancing around her side, “Hooves. Hooves and bells.” He pauses for dramatic effect, jabbing his finger into her side in a tickling poke. His voice dips lower, as his arm squeezes around her, “Someone must have been a good girl this year.” 

Louise grins when she realises what he’s implying and couldn’t bring herself not to play along. 

“…You think it’s Santa Claus?!” 

“Hmm, definitely…who else would it be, on the roof with hooves and bells on Christmas eve?” She giggles, both in response to his kind-natured teasing and his fingers poking her side with an exaggerated motion.

“Oh, I wonder what he’ll leave in my stocking…” Elvis hums against her hair, 

“Mmm. Coal.” 

“Nooo!” She giggles back to him, “You just said I’ve been a good girl!”

“You’ve been a very good little girl.” His voice has hit that low pitch that immediately sends a jolt down her spine, right into the pit of her stomach and she swallows, trying to keep up with the joke. 

“Well, I’m, uh, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is.” 

“Mmhmm….” His hand brushes up her leg, “Bet ya I’ll like what’s in your stockings more…” 

“Elvis!” She shrieks, playfully batting his hand away, he pulls it off of her, smoothing down her skirt, and resting it onto her lap for a moment. Louise feels her breath catching as he presses a kiss to the side of her head, brushing her hair out of the way and shifting her on his thigh so that she’s facing him. It’s almost a struggle for her to meet his eyes, she felt so desperate for his attention - but there was nowhere else to look that made her feel any less heated. His hair, god even his eyebrows were Elvis-enough to make her squirm. It’s only a second of him kissing her jaw, before she’s gasping for him, and before she knows what she’s doing she’s grabbing his hand and shoving it back on her thigh. 

She’d kept herself for him, even as it felt that she’d been playing before, doing it for someone who would never notice or care - ostensibly in general, but really if she was truthful - for him. She’d touched herself, hadn’t been able to resist the temptation, especially after his deep voice came through the phone - but the other boys, the boys in school, the ones with blue collar jobs and careers, had all lost their appeal whenever she imagined kissing them, and her imagination interposed the image and feeling of him, his slippery body in the pool, the feel of him in front of her on the bike. He was thinner now, even still, than he was before, puppy fat replaced with lean muscles. His face shape changed just the tiniest bit, perhaps unnoticeable to some, but so very obvious to her, cheekbones and chin more angular than before. But his lips feel the same as they did before he left, and since his return home - she’d expected they’d have lost their eager nature, but still she can feel the hint of desperation as he presses them against her jaw.

She gasps, rocking against him as he roves down her neck - a place no one else has ever touched, tiny points of pressure feeling like a heat was expanding across her neck and chest, matching the clench of her thighs. His hand gently strokes up her stockings before he hitches her up, capturing his mouth with hers and shoving her underlayers up to her waist in the abrupt movement. Louise moves with him, desperate to stay in contact with his lips and she moans in upset when he starts to pull away. 

“C’mon baby,” He whispers, “C’mon, Lou-Lou let me - let me say thank you,” He’s barely audible as he speaks against her lips between pressing bruising kisses onto them, “I just - wanna, wanna make you feel good, Lou doll.” She gasps out her agreement, eyes falling closed and her head falling into his shoulder as his fingers find their way to rub against the silk of her underwear. He shifts her again, balancing her so she can rock against his thigh and his hand, whilst also rubbing her leg against his covered crotch. Louise is almost surprised at the heat of him against her thigh, but her curiosity has no chance to be satisfied when he hooks a finger under the leg band of her panties, totally distracting her from anything but the feel of him under her and attempting to stay somewhat upright. His finger feels softer than she’d imagined, and yet, in comparison to her own the pads feel foreign, rougher and surer than hers ever were sliding into the wetness they find there.

“God, you’re so soft baby, so fucking soft in here, perfect for me, you been waiting on me, honey?” 

“Uh-huh, waited, waited so long for you Elvis - didn’t, I didn’t want anyone but you.” He groans in response, his fingers moving faster. Until he’s forced to stop, tangled in the fabric and he growls in frustration. Louise feels it go straight down her body, and her thighs clench, trapping his hand even more. He pauses for barely a second to manhandle her up, just enough to roughly tug her panties down enough that it’s now entirely her bare skin rubbing against his hand and clothed thigh, the fibres of his trousers almost giving her a friction burn with her rapid movements. He continues as he was a second earlier, but now with far easier access he’s able to swipe his fingers across her clit, taking her to the edge almost immediately. She has no idea if this was something he’s always done well, or if this is a trick he’d picked up while he was away, but whatever the reason she was grateful. She doesn’t even consider how they were still, essentially, in public, too distracted by his slender fingers to be concerned about her now partial nudity. The only noise to break up their combined breathy moans is the layers of of taffeta rustling between them, as she continues to rock against his thigh, but this all changes when he delves his thumb into her wetness, bringing it back up to stroke circles on her clit, gently but repeatedly running it over her. 

“Oh, Elvis?” She cries out,  

“What baby? You’re so - I can feel you’re close,” His own breathing is getting heavier, and he holds her steady with his other hand grasping her thigh while his thumb continues to stroke her, 

“I don’t - I don’t…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say, and before she manages to turn it into a complete sentence she’s shaking on him as she rides out her orgasm. He sees her through it, continuing to stroke her with the same pressure before rapidly shoving his hand down his own pants, roughly rubbing himself off to quick completion. She watches him closely, unable to do anything but stare as his own eyes slide closed, head falling back against the couch and mouth opening as he gasps out a high-pitched moan. It was about enough to make her shudder again against his thigh, the look on his face, his mussed hair, open collar and the noises of sheer pleasure. Louise finds herself bouncing on his chest as he breathes rapidly from the effort, and he holds her tight for a few moments while they both regain use of their limbs. Louise feels almost a little shell-shocked and she only really comes to her senses when Elvis shifts, wiping his hand on his trousers with a grimace and patting her thigh, 

“Gosh that was, I, um, thank you El,” He grins at her, clearly pleased with his success, and he pats her leg again, 

“Thank you, honey, for just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me earlier baby, it was just - I’m gonna treasure them snowballs forever, you’ll see.” She grins back at him before an unstoppable yawn takes over her face, “C’mon lil girl, time for bed.” She gulps, thinking about all the people on the house - worrying what will happen next, 

“D’you…where am I gonna sleep?” Elvis frowns, little furrowed line marring his previously relaxed face, 

“With me?” 

“Oh,” Louise swallows, “Um, I think my parents will be expecting me - you know, Christmas morning’s all about -“ 

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll drop you home at the crack of dawn,” He winks, “-gotta make sure the house is all in order in any case anyway.” Elvis pauses, “Or, or you could invite your mama and pops over. They’d be more than welcome…nothing my mama liked more than a full house - especially at Christmas.” He’s looking at her with that earnest little boy expression again and it takes everything in her not to just suggest she should stay forever, it was so absurd that he’d want her to stay, instead of the other way around. 

“Well…maybe I could stay. And, well, I mean, I could come over in the evening? If you swear you’ll make sure I get home in time -“ He’s quick to interject, 

“Cross my heart darling,” She hums at him, and he motions the crossing of his heart across his chest, solemnly holding eye contact, “I swear.”

“Ok then, I’d love to stay.” 

Somehow, and (despite his promises) to Louise’s surprise, she’s dutifully shaken awake and dropped off home, albeit not by Elvis himself, only a few very short hours later. Coming up the driveway of her childhood home it feels almost inconceivable that she should have spent the day and night how she has, and she wonders for a brief moment if she hadn’t knocked her head or something and just hallucinated the whole affair. She’s so in her thoughts that she doesn’t yet notice, as she traipses past the lounge and kitchen where she can hear her mother singing to quickly change, a new set of boxes under the Christmas tree. Elvis’ script on the gift tags declaring “To Louise, a very good girl, from Santa.” 

taglist: (it's been so long that I've lost the list for this verse - lmk if you want to be added, or taken off!)

@lialocklear @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @thatbanditquee @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @shakerattlescroll

[whowilllbringtherain]

OUR LOVE IS BORN

Josh Kiszka/ Layla (OC)

When Layla is forced to leave behind her home in Australia, a new chapter in her life opens in the small town of Frankenmuth.

Navigating relationships and overwhelming emotions, Layla finds herself involved in the complicated inner workings of the Kiszka brothers and their own romantic interests.

TW mentions/ depictions of: Violence, DUI, car accident, marijuana, alcohol/ drug use, drugging (roofie), emotional/ verbal abuse, physical abuse, nightmares, triggering comments about body and eating habits, issues with body image/ body dysmorphia, disordered eating/ restriction, depressive themes, anxiety/ panic attacks, PTSD, (+ fluff, angst and all that other stuff). This story does include domestic violence and themes of sexual assault in further chapters so please please please be careful. If I missed any trigger warnings please let me know ASAP. I may also add trigger warnings as I go along as I often forget things

Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Better Twin

Chapter 2 ~ Awestruck

Chapter 3 ~ Cream

Chapter 4 ~ Sick

Chapter 5 ~ Snow

Chapter 6 ~ Bad Day

Chapter 7 ~ Fire

Chapter 8 ~ The Aftermath

Chapter 9 ~ New Man

Chapter 10 ~ Secrets

Chapter 11 ~ Barbeque

Chapter 12 ~ tbc

…

Disclaimer!! This is my first ever fanfic! I’m gonna upload a chapter maybe every 3 days ish so that I don’t overload the tumblr feed- but if you want to read more, my up to date chapters are on my wattpad account —>

@ whowillbringtherain

As for upcoming chapters, my schedule is usually all over the place so my posting won’t be very organised sorry

Hope you enjoy!

[pretzel-box]

first x reader author i actually interact with outside likes of "yep i see this, i enjoy it" and you're so??? polite??? over me lacking the ability to Fucking See Words???

all my fear of talking to you is just gone. i feel cozy here and i have no regrets popping in with my dumb writing idea that led to my one-shot

you also called me amazing when you linked my writing, do not think i missed that, you are absolutely wonderful and that made my day immensely-

i hope your writing endeavors go well today and however long they last :D looking forward to everything planned for today!! 💖🫧

I'm happy to hear that you are so comfortable here! That's what I'm aiming for!🥹💕 Especially since I was a victim of rude/ignorant x reader authors before. My asks that I send never got answered...even after re-sending it...pain.

That's to everyone: Don't be shy to spam my inbox with comments, ideas, yapping or oc talks. I promise I don't bite! In fact I always get so excited to see people interacting with my works. Y'all wouldn't expect it but I read through every single notification on tumblr, all likes, reblogs and comments! Just because I'm genuinely touched how supportive people are here. So thank you for being such sweet beans everyone!! 💕🫧

This week will be slow updates (thats what Pretzel said after posting one fic after another) since I prepare all requests and pre-write for next week to give myself a break! Also upcoming 400 follower special, maybe???🥹

Also funfact: My writings are usually not pre-written. I write it all in one go and post it immediately. Please don't be like me, take breaks people!

And last but not least, you are a good writer! I really enjoy the content about your OC, maybe she can be friends with Sasha 👀💕

[cyareclones]

☆ javier/cy | 18 | he/they

i’m javi, a latino artist and storyteller! ill be starting my first semester of art school this upcoming fall. i post a lot more artwork and WIPs on my patreon (starts at $1!) so please consider supporting me there if you enjoy my work.

DNI: r*xsoka, reylo, master/padawan, clone/clone shippers and whitewashers are not welcome

shop -> cyareclones.com

patreon -> patreon.com/cyareclones

☆ my tags

art - #cyaredraws

fics - #cyarewrites

rambles - #cyarespeaks

comms - #cyarecomms

☆ my ocs (more on @urulocks)

locks - #arctrooperlocks

urudyk sa’aza - #urudyk

kel’hir - #kel or #kel’hir

ad’ika - #ad’ika

och’sa - #och’sa

sa’mahr - #sa’mahr

otoshky sa’aza - #otoshky

[lady-of-imladris]

CHAPTER 9 - SOMEWHERE IN THE HAZE

Synopsis: Preparations for the imminent battle are made, but when they arrive at Dol Guldur, complications arise.

Word count: 2.1k

Pairings: Thranduil/OC

Warnings: Violence

Additional tags: it's getting angsty over here!

Link to the chapter overview

Lmao sorry I forgot to post this yesterday but what a lucky coincidence because I can now say: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @fenharel-enaste ! You live too far away for me to give you a physical gift so I dedicate this chapter to you my lovely friend <3

It turned into something bigger Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed Your finger on my hair pin triggers - The Great War (Taylor Swift)

The messengers from Imladris and Lothlorien returned fast and with news that was better than the King and Queen had dared to hope. Elrond, Celebrían, Celeborn and Galadriel were on their way. With their armies. Ana could have wept for joy that they would not need to face this threat alone. She had gone over their potential strategies again and again and again, consulting old maps of Amon Lanc, reports from scouting parties, reimmersing herself in battle strategies employed by their enemy. Thranduil was in awe. He had known for quite some time that his wife had been the mind behind some of their most successful assaults on Mordor during the Dagor Dagorlad, but seeing her in action was something entirely different.

The other four elven leaders arrived two days before the agreed-upon date of the attack for some last preparations. In Celebrían’s case, it entailed wrangling the twins, as well as Legolas, Elrond was examining the body of the elven soldier who had been turned into an orc and killed by Queen Anarríma. Celeborn, Galadriel, Ana and Thranduil busied themselves with the upcoming battle. The Lord of Lorien was beaming with pride. His daughter’s strategy was perfect. Their first evening together was celebrated with a family dinner full of laughter and joy. Legolas was beyond excited to have his cousins around and they spent the better part of the evening chasing each other around the halls.

The night before the battle looked different. Everyone was silent and withdrew to their private quarters immediately after dinner. Ana and Thranduil tucked Legolas into bed together that night, wanting to spend every last second with their son. “Nana, Ada?” the little elf asked hesitantly. “Yes, my little leaf?” The Queen sat down on the bed. “Why do you have to go?” Anarríma choked back her tears, and Thranduil sighed deeply. She felt his nails digging into her shoulders. He took over. “Ion-nin, that is a very complicated thing to explain, but we are doing this to protect our people. As King and Queen that is our duty. You will understand it one day.”

When Legolas had finally fallen asleep, Thranduil and Anarríma went to bed, lying next to each other, staring at the ceiling. Her hand found his. “Whatever happens tomorrow-” “Don’t.” Thranduil could not bear to hear it. They would outnumber the orcs. They would win. They had to. “Whatever happens tomorrow,” she tried again, “I love you.” “Please stop,” his voice was shaking. ‘Whatever happens tomorrow, I love you, my son.’ Those had been Oropher’s words the night before his death. The Elvenking was afraid. He could not bear to lose her. His Queen, his wife, the mother of his child.

Neither of them wanted to sleep, so they spent the night exchanging kisses and softly whispered words of love, chatting about entirely unimportant matters. It did not matter what they talked about, they just talked. Anarríma laid her head on her husband’s chest, letting Thranduil play with her hair and enjoying the vibrations of his chest caused by his voice as he told her of his childhood in Doriath, the first time he and Celeborn got drunk, of the day Celeborn first saw Galadriel and knew that he loved her, of Lúthien Tinúviel and her mortal lover, and many other things. In return, she told him about the few memories she had of Gondolin, of her happy childhood in Lorien, the time of the war against Sauron before they met and the battles they had never talked about before. The night passed too quickly.

They got up again before the sun had fully risen, eating a quick breakfast before getting ready for another war. Breakfast was quiet, no one knew what to say, so they just sat in uncomfortable silence. The Queen would have given anything to spend this morning with the soldiers instead. She found her mind going back to the mornings before important battles during the war against Sauron, sitting on the floor of a large tent together with her father and his soldiers, the tension so high it could have cut Mithril, until one of them, an elf who had fought in the War of Wrath made a joke. Anarríma could not recall the joke, but she would always remember the relief she felt when the tent filled with laughter. One look over at her father, who was sitting across from her told her that in his mind, he was there as well.

Fastening the straps of her bracers felt a bit like meeting an old friend and catching up, the Queen realized to her horror. She had not worn a full set of armour since the war. Thranduil was lounging comfortably on a chaise. She had promised to let him braid her hair for her and he was holding her to that promise. Ana smiled to herself as she sat down on the floor in front of him. Thranduil was horrible when it came to braiding hair. It always took him an insane amount of time and the braids often looked messy, even when he did it on her. With his own hair, the King was even more hopeless, hence he kept it loose. Anarríma winced slightly when his fingers tugged on a strand of hair a bit too harshly.

“Goheno nin,” Thranduil chuckled nervously, “and thank you. For putting up with me.” Ana reached up to put her hand on his thigh. “You are getting better at this. Give it another millennium or two.” The King grinned smugly. “Well, I think I did a pretty decent job this time.” Ana got up and walked to the mirror. Decent was an understatement. The two braids over her ears looked perfect and felt secure, as did the long fishtail braid he had created with the rest of her hair. “Thranduil!” Ana turned around and threw her arms around his neck. “How?” “I’ve been secretly practising on our son,” he admitted. Ana hid her laughter. “Thranduil, how could you? The poor child!” “Don’t worry,” he held up his hand in defence, “I bribed him with sweets and he was a very willing test subject.” Ana shook her head in disbelief. “We should finish getting dressed.”

“There’s one last thing missing,” Thranduil said, when Ana stood there, in her full armour, all her weapons secured. She looked at him expectantly as he set a box down on her vanity, taking off the lid to reveal the crown of dragon scales, gleaming in the candlelight like thousands of stars. “I killed a dragon for you, Ana. Let this serve as a reminder that whatever beast we encounter today, I will slay for you as well.” She bowed slightly, letting him put the crown on her head. Ana needn’t have bowed, Thranduil was much taller than her anyway, but at that moment, it felt right to bow to him. He might be her husband, but he was also her King.

Soldiers, servants and courtiers alike bowed and curtsied deeply as their King and Queen walked by, armed and ready for battle. Many had risen early to say their goodbyes, Celebrían among them. “I never understood how you can be comfortable in such a thing.” The Lady of Imladris gestured all over her sister’s ornate armour. Anarríma rolled her eyes. “It’s not designed for comfort, Brí, it’s supposed to protect me.” “By Eru, I hope it does,” Celebrían murmured and hugged her sister tightly.

“Shall we?” Galadriel and Celeborn emerged, armed to their teeth. Try as she might, the Lady of Imladris could not tell who of the four bore the most weapons, each of them carrying multiple blades openly. “Elrond is waiting outside already. Come back to me. All of you,” Celebrían instructed, hugging each of them for a moment longer than expected. “After all,” she continued, “my daughter will need her grandparents and aunt and uncle.” Ana could not believe it. Her sister was pregnant. Again. After a moment of shock, they congratulated her and Galadriel scolded her for dropping such big news on them when they were already running late, but Celebrían merely laughed and sent them off.

The armies advanced through the forest quietly and efficiently. It was almost muscle memory for all of them. Every single soldier who joined them had also fought in the Dagor Dagorlad. None had been keen to fight in another battle, but in the end, all of them had volunteered to keep their kingdoms safe. The journey was smooth and they effortlessly took out any orc scouting troops they came close to. Ana had predicted their general locations almost flawlessly. The armies got into position, surrounding Dol Guldur, remaining hidden in the trees. The King and Queen were no fools. They were well aware that the orcs knew of their coming. The only thing left to do was lure them out.

They looked every bit the warriors they were as they walked over the bridge. Thranduil offered Anarríma his arm as if he were escorting her to a ball. She gracefully accepted. They were halfway across the bridge when the enemy appeared before them. Three orcs, each looking more cruel than the other. “Do you have a death wish, elves?” one of them snarled. “We come to negotiate the terms of surrender,” Thranduil offered politely. The sound of laughter carried far into the forest. “Giving up your forest so easily, elfling?” Thranduil felt Ana’s grip on his arm tighten. His wife was angry. “Get out of this forest or by Eru, I swear we will destroy you.” Thranduil had never heard his wife speak like this. If he were the orc, he would run.

The orc grinned maliciously. “Do you really think we are not prepared? Do you really think we don’t know that you brought the Witch of Loríen and the Half-Elf with you? Maybe you should be the ones to run.” Thranduil shrugged. “I guess that concludes negotiations.” He raised his arm, signalling to his army. The three orcs fell to the ground, dead. The archers of Lasgalen were renowned for their skill. Their army advanced and the orcs started appearing out of nowhere. The King and Queen shared one last look before letting go of each other and drawing their swords. And then there was chaos.

Thranduil and Ana stayed together as long as possible but ended up being driven apart. Thranduil remained where the fighting was thickest, while Ana took her forces to more remote locations, watchtowers, dungeons, hidden passageways to try and drive the enemy towards them. She caught a glimpse of Thranduil when she looked out of a window, dead orcs littering the ground surrounding him. Galadriel and Celeborn had joined him. Galadriel met her daughter’s eyes for just a moment before refocusing her attention on the fighting.

Anarríma continued her raid of the ruins, rounding corner after corner at breakneck speed. She had reached the most remote part of Dol Guldur. The Queen was on her own now, she had left her soldiers behind to deal with the orcs. Something spurred her on, telling her to climb the tower. Her feet were moving of their own volition, carrying her up and up and up the winding staircase. The thought of returning to her soldiers crossed her mind, but was swiftly replaced by the compulsion to climb the stairs. As she walked by another window, she thought that she should go back outside and fight side by side with Thranduil, but when she was about to turn around and walk back down, she could not. Dread filled her entire body as she realized that there was only one way she could go. Up. She took a deep breath and walked up the last flight of stairs, sword clutched tightly and ready to strike as she entered the room at the top of the tower.

“Queen of Lasgalen,” a whisper arose around her. “At last, you have come to me.” She whipped around, trying to locate the source, but she was alone. Trap, it was a trap. She never should have come here. Ana sprinted towards the exit but was blocked by a wall of black smoke. “No escape. Not for you.” The voice was taunting her. “Show yourself, coward,” she demanded, willing her voice to be steady. “As you wish.” The black smoke took shape. It stood before there, towering over her, sword drawn, but Anarríma could feel that it did not need a blade. Whatever the being before her was, it could kill her with half a thought. It was merely toying with its prey.

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <3

Everything Taglist: @thesolarangel @fenharel-enaste @sanfranciscocablecar @enaelyork @nevermcre

I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. I was sick for a while and I am still (supposed to be) working on my thesis 🙃

The good news is I have the next chapter mostly written because I felt that writing them in parallel might be a good idea for whatever reason. Thank you for putting up with me, ily <3

TGW Taglist: @queenmeriadoc @spnbandwagon1019 @somebirdortheother @some--morphine @hc-geralt-23 @legendary-maddie @elrondsevenstar @blumin8 @frodomyprecious @bookflowersnerd

You can join my taglist here <3

[blood-red-ocean]

BloodRedOcean Masterlist

All of my works, finished and unfinished, compiled in one place for easy navigation! I am also now taking requests, the guidelines are at the bottom of the masterlist. Enjoy!

Larger Works (AO3)

Desires of Dimitrescu (Resident Evil, F/F, Alcina/Reader) - updated every weekend. First Chapter | Current Chapter

Not Your Typical Love Story (Dead by Daylight, F/F, Anna/Reader) - now updated every two weeks. First Chapter | Current Chapter

You're A Murderer (I Can't Stay Away) (Dead By Daylight, F/F, Sally/Amanda) - on hiatus. First Chapter |

Smaller Works (Tumblr)

The Things We Do For Love (Resident Evil, F/F, Alcina/Reader) - updated sporadically. Part One | Part Two | TBC

New Year at the Castle (Resident Evil, F/F, Alcina/Reader) - Here!

Completed Works

Fem!Sal x Reader (Resident Evil) - Here!

Small Thief (Resident Lover, Miranda x Reader) - Here!

Unpublished & Upcoming Works

The Penthouse (Resident Evil, F/F, Alcina/Reader) - in progress, to be published on AO3.

Untitled Resident Evil Sitcom Fic - to be published on AO3.

Untitled Miranda Smut (Resident Lover, F/F, Miranda/Reader) - to be published on Tumblr.

Untitled Post-Cassandra Cult Ending Angst (Resident Lover) - to be published on Tumblr.

Requests Queue

Request Guidelines: I mainly write lesbian and nonbinary characters and relationships, however I am open to writing about straight and gay/mlm relationships and characters as well. The characters/franchises I currently write for are as follows (this is a regularly updated list):

Dead By Daylight - Huntress - Nurse - Pig - Artist - Skull Merchant - Plague - Any survivor

Resident Evil - Any character from Resident Evil Village - Jill Valentine - Claire Redfield - Leon Kennedy

Resident Lover - Anybody - Literally anybody

Wednesday - Wednesday Addams - Enid Sinclair - Larissa Weems (currently rewatching Wednesday to get a proper feel for her character)

Haunting of Bly Manor - Dani Clayton - Jamie Taylor - Hannah Grose

If there is somebody you want me to write about who is not on this list, tell me who they are and I'll do my research! I can and will also write about OCs if I'm given a comprehensive description of said OC. Please feel free to send me requests! I love it!

Thank you for reading!

[fangbangerghoul]

Hello my mutuals! This is another episode of WIP WEDNESDAY! Where I tag a bunch of you and share a little piece of one of my current WIPS! (as usual no obligation to post but I like to tag as many as the writers/readers as I can!)

Tagging: @bearlytolerant, @a-cosmic-elf, @aislingdmdt, @therealgchu, @spookyspecterino, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @atonalginger, @silurisanguine, @eridanidreams, @staticpallour, @toxiclizardwrites, @lisa-and-shadow, @samcoesclub, @5oh5, @booburry, @seraaphiel, @aro-pancake, this is a queued post so if you have already been tagged, please forgive me.

Under the cut will be a current gn!readers starfield AU project! I have alluded to what I was working on before in our Comrade Coe's Discord Server but I think for this one I would like to leave some people guessing! (don't fret I don't think it will be too hard to guess if you are familiar with my previous work)

I recently organized my fanfiction and made a Sam Coe Fic Masterpost! Feel free to check it out and enjoy my one shots and parts of my OC's series. I soon will make a Delgado edition as well!

I am still working on Chapter 9 of Fleeting Pleasures! Currently the band I've been listening to while I write is Type O Negative if that offers any context to the vibes that might exist within this upcoming chapter. Feel free to catch up on the series if you haven't already because after chapter 9, we only have the final chapter left!

I hope you enjoy the small snippet below and feel free to still tag me in your posts so I can see everyone's lovely work! Happy writing!

The night was still young as you walked arm in arm with some of your close friends. The four of you started the night bar hopping and dancing but now you all agreed it was time to change up the vibes. You already felt a little ditzy from all the fruity frozen drinks you have sipped on but you were ready for the next endeavor. The cobblestone road led you to the far side of town. There were fewer streetlights and even at this early hour of night fewer people. The mist clung to your dewy skin making the colorful makeup on your face feel as if it was possibly sweating off but where you were going you knew it wouldn't matter. There it stood ahead on the corner of Kryx Ave and Ophiphon Street. The Key. It was a classic dive bar that only the locals ever ventured to. The building itself was ominous with black brick and red stained windows. After dark the bar was always bolstering with loud heavy noise that could vibrate your insides only a few yards away from it. You could feel the synergy of rambunctious and unadulterated pleasure.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

ASK BOX NOW CLOSED (02.02.24)

I am working through all the asks I've received thus far. I usually post once a day so long as life's other demands don't get in the way. 😘

There are 37 Asks in my Inbox! 🤯 Most from this round but a few submitted from before. The way it works is first come first serve. So if you just got an ask in before the box closed, expect to wait a bit. I will also try to keep an Upcoming Ask List circulating as I go, so you know what's coming next.

If at any point you become concerned your ask is being skipped or Tumblr glitched and your ask wasn't received despite you submitting it within the timeframe, feel free to dm me asking for an update, or if I've received it. I know technology doesn't always do what we want, so don't ever feel like you're bothering me or spamming me. If I submitted something, I'd want to make sure the writer got it too, so I totally understand. 💕

I am copying and pasting the previous updates and rules below the cut for bookkeeping reasons. So if you're just coming across this pinned message, you'll be able to see the progression.

Love you all and can't wait to get to answering these awesome asks!

-Mothmom 💚

01.29.24 UPDATE: WILL BE CLOSING ASK BOX TO WORK ON ASKS IN NEXT COMING DAYS:

If you haven't submitted something yet and you want to, please do so. I'll be closing my ask box in like two days or so to give me time to catch up on all asks thus far.

-Mothmom 💚

ASKBOX STILL OPEN

Hello all! I am currently accepting both sfw and nsfw headcanon requests, alphabet lists, and matchups for the following fandoms:

Baldur’s Gate 3

Castlevania (Netflix)

Resident Evil (1-4; 8)

Monsters/Cryptids/Creatures

My rules are as follows:

Use the ask box

Name the character(s)/creature(s) you have in mind

Mention the scenario you’re thinking of

If there are more details, feel free to add them but ask anything overly specific and I may not be able to incorporate it all

I do sfw or nsfw, pretty much anything

Rules for Requesting Matchups/Headcanons:

I’d say max requests per ask is one. Like if you want two separate headcanon ideas (For Ex: “What’s so and so favorite color?” and also “What would [blank] enjoy doing most at the beach?”)- Please submit those separately.

Max. characters per request can go up to 6, but expect that the more characters included per ask, the shorter the answers per character may be. So if you ask for headcanons for Gale, I might give you 3 paragraphs whereas if you ask for Gale, Wyll, and Shadowheart, I may only write 1 paragraph per character for that answer.

Same prompt with different characters is totally fine! Again, I’d say max. # of characters per same prompt is 6.

Any kind of reader is cool: male or female or gn!reader. Can use the terms afab or amab if you’d prefer as well.

I’ll do pretty much any topic as long as it fits within the source material. I’m a grown-ass woman who’s been in fanfiction for going on over a decade so very little in fiction surprises or repulses me at this point.

I will write about dark topics. I’m comfortable with all topics. On the off chance someone asks something I just cannot do, I’ll say as much.

And I’ll be sure to include a TW on answers with difficult topics for other readers to use to navigate.

For info to include when requesting a Matchup:

Give me a personality description of either you or your Tav or your OC. What are they like? Their best attributes? Worst attributes? Hobbies? Likes/dislikes? MBTI?

Preferred gender result, or if you’d like one of each gender.

And if you’d be open to a poly or monogomous answer.

For matchups, the limit is one per preferred gender (so max. you could get per matchup would be two, one of each gender)

Divider Credit to cafekitsune

[misswriter97]

a choice with no regrets | levi ackerman

She thought the decision was made before she left Marley to Hizuru. The last efforts didn't rekindle the flame in her heart, but when she thought she would finally give in, a man made her hesitate.

pairing: levi x f!reader/oc

words: 659

genres: angst, sfw, first encounter

warnings: suicidal thoughts

a/n: this is a flashback memory from See You Later, the upcoming levi no titans au long fic i’m planning to post on ao3. i’ve had this idea for long enough so i’m posting this to know if someone is into it :) i’m still between writing an oc, a reader, or a named reader, so please lmk what you prefer and lmk if you’re invested to know more!

The world was muted.

Cast steel cut water like it was paper, leaving a trail of white bubbles and tiny waves as the ship sailed away. There were people behind her, enough to get distracted between themselves and not pay attention to the little turmoil happening near the iron edges. It was a small cruise crossing Hizuru from one border to the other, and of course, it would be packed with tourists and even natives.

Hizuru was a beautiful country, a great place to keep in memory.

Why am I afraid?

She looked down at the water, the white bubbles and little waves. She asked why she was so afraid of losing something she had thought multiple times she would rather never have.

Her knuckles turned white from how much pressure she put on the steel bars, half her body wobbling forward.

Let go.

The letter was written, kept in the first drawer of her office desk back in Marley. Alone, as she ever was, she recalled letting the tears she wouldn't be able to let roll down her face when she left.

She was there alone. She made herself alone because this was everything she knew, even when surrounded by people. And she thought when the time was due, she wouldn’t cry. Turns out it was still very hard. Silent tears rolled down the valley of the deep dark circles beneath her eyes, to the hill of her cheeks that used to be fuller and rosy when she was young, to the corner of her twisted-down trembling lips.

The fall from that high was what she wanted all along, but facing the sea was more astounding than what she waited for.

I’m so afraid…

Let go.

“Excuse me.”

The sound of a voice nullified all the mute, then she started hearing almost everyone in the deck again. Startled, she refused to meet the stranger’s eyes, much less give them a full view of how fragile she was at that moment.

“Y-yes?”

“I’ve lost my guide map,” it was a baritone. A man. She offered nothing more than the side of her face, just because curiosity skyrocketed enough for her to want to peek at who had the guts to interrupt a woman into her inner turmoil. “Are you still using yours?”

The man wore a dark gray suit she could tell was of no big brand from miles away, and a black hiding his hair. She couldn't distinguish the color of his irises. He wasn't looking directly at her, but at the guide map she so haphazardly crumpled between her fingers.

“…No,” she answered, a wavering tone hiding behind small sentences. “Take it.”

He extended his hand, took the guide map out of her hand, extended back, and still stood there when he got what he needed.

“Thank you,” he said then. “Have a good day.”

She closes her eyes. Pressed her lid to her waterline so she could force stubborn tears out. Slowly, blood came back to her hands as she let go of the steel railings. Again, she only offered half of her face, this time nodding, acknowledging his gratitude.

A young blonde-haired boy came to him enthusiastically, pointing to the camera at the center of the deck.

“Captain Levi, let’s take a photograph!” The boy acknowledged her then. “Oh, hello!”

“Armin…” his eyes went to him for a brief moment then back to her again. “Excuse me. Thank you again.”

She nodded in response and watched in silence as Levi turned around and mumbled something to the boy, apparently not refusing the offer but not seemingly the type to enjoy taking photos.

When she looked down at the sea again, the plethora of voices inside her head were all muted. Though she agreed with everything they said most of the time, she didn't know why it felt good to only hear silence again.

Her hands left the railing.

She heard the silence for the first time, and it was peaceful.

[fizzyxcustard]

Covert Eyes (17)

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

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Stalking behaviour, anxiety, language, sexual references, angst, smut, heartbreak, gunshot wounds and recovery.

Summary: Lucas takes notice of a young woman, Amy, but his obsession and want to get to know her begin to spiral out of control. Amy knows that her recovery won’t be quick, and she now has another decision to face. 

Official soundtrack list:  here

Comments/Notes: This fic is back after a long hiatus, and the main reason it was on hiatus was because I just felt that people weren't interested, and I was never asked where this fic had gone. However, my dear friend @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady helped me to pick this fic back up. Thank you, my sweets. <3

If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. The above image was made by me using images found online. 

I also wanted to stipulate, and I don’t mean to be rude, but if you ask to be on my tag list and never interact (even if just a ‘like’ on the chapters I post) then I will remove you after a few weeks. Please try and show some kind of engagement, or ask to be taken off my list if you’re no longer interested.

It was early December, and Amy had settled in quite well with her colleagues. She shadowed Jo and Ruth Evershed regularly, watching them closely as they run checks on subjects. The daily board meetings were always informative, and she had begun to fill out her own notebook, compiling bullet points on the way operations were run. Ros actively involved Amy in chats that she had with the team, beckoning her to follow and listen in. Sometimes Amy even sat in with live operations, listening on headphones to those who were out on the ground, mainly Lucas and Jo. Most of the Brevity terminology went over her head, but hearing everything live began to put the job into some kind of perspective for her. 

One thing that Amy enjoyed in particular was her budding friendship with Tariq. The two of them were often found with a cup of tea or coffee in hand, laughing at some obscure joke as they scoured CCTV footage. Their desks were next to one another, so Amy always had Tariq on hand to ask any questions. All she had to do was spin in her chair to the left hand side, and he was there. 

Her working hours didn’t always match Lucas’, so it wasn’t too often that they travelled home together, but they did travel in together. Most of their mornings still consisted of their regular café spot with coffee and a bagel. Amy would sit in their usual spot, remembering all the mornings where they were merely acquaintances. 

“It was your perfume that I first noticed. Olympia by Paco Robbane,” Lucas said one morning. Rain was dripping down the café windows and a thick mist had descended on London. “Then I turned and saw you working in your notebook. Who’d have thought we’d be sat here now, engaged and working together.” 

Amy rested against his shoulder, feeling his arm curl around her. “Never in a million years would I have ever thought someone like you would have looked at me twice.” 

“I’ve looked at you many more times than that.” 

On Amy’s third week, she agreed to work late with Tariq that upcoming Friday. The night before and Amy announced it to Lucas. “I’m going to be working late with Tariq tomorrow. We’re running CCTV checks on the Spiller file and need to go through a few hours of footage.” Amy was stood at the sink, drying cutlery, while Lucas sat at the dining room table. 

Lucas’ jaw clenched for a split second and he looked away. He seemed to never see her once they passed the main security check point of Thames House. 

“What?” she asked sternly, tossing the tea towel to one side. 

“What?” Lucas asked, raising his eyebrow, feigning innocence. 

“Come on, don’t act dumb. I saw your face as soon as I said I was working late with Tariq. Is the problem me working late, or the fact it’s Tariq I’m working with? I agreed to mirror his shifts. Ros asked me to on the day I started.” 

“I never said anything.” 

“No, your face said it all.”

Lucas sighed. “I just thought that because we haven’t been able to spend much time at home together the last week, maybe we could do something tomorrow, start getting our Christmas shopping or something, and this is the first I’ve heard of you staying over late.” 

That was the first instance of Lucas showing any kind of irritation towards Amy and Tariq working together. But it became more plain to see whenever they were all together in the office. When Amy and Tariq were sat together, side by side, pouring over files and the computer screen, she would sometimes notice Lucas’ steel blue gaze watching them both whenever he was in close proximity. Other times his tall frame would slip past the desk, his hand brushing her arm. He only ever seemed to do this when she was sat with Tariq. It was as if his behaviour were becoming a warning sign, telling Tariq to back off. 

***

One evening, after work, as they both stepped into the flat, Amy decided to confront Lucas with what she had noticed, as his behaviour seemed to be getting worse. She placed her handbag down on the table, unwound her scarf from her neck and crossed her arms. “I know you’re jealous of Tariq and me being friends,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you watch us. Why are you jealous?” 

“I’m not,” Lucas insisted. 

“Please, don’t lie again,” Amy groaned. “If you’re jealous, fine. Just talk to me.” 

Lucas sighed and sat down at the table, beckoning for Amy to sit also. She straddled his lap and wound her arms around his neck. “I’ve nearly lost you a few times now, and I just…” 

“You won’t lose me to someone else, Lucas,” Amy interjected. “Tariq is lovely, don’t get me wrong. But you…you still make me go wild.” 

Lucas placed his head on Amy’s chest. “I’m being stupid, I know. You’re the most amazing thing that’s happened, and I’m terrified of losing you.” 

“You won’t,” Amy insisted again. She kissed his head and held him against her. “What do I have to do to make you see that? Even when I become Mrs. North, will that be enough for you? If I really wanted to, I could get insecure and worry that you’re secretly cheating on me with Jo. She’s gorgeous, and you’re out on operations with her regularly. I trust you. Why don’t you trust me?” 

Lucas still had his head on Amy’s chest, basking in the warmth of her and listening to her rhythmic heartbeat. “I don’t trust myself. These nightmares I have sometimes; I’m scared I’ll wake up and hurt you. You don’t want to be with someone who’s broken…like me.” 

“I don’t care if you’re broken. None of us are perfect and whole. I want to spend my life with you, Lucas. Please see that.” 

His blue gaze lifted and he looked at Amy, feeling himself sink into her green depths and beautiful, ethereal smile. They kissed slowly, the heat building, until neither of them could hold back anymore. Within a few minutes, they were making love on the table. Lucas had his jeans around his ankles, his hands holding Amy’s hips in place as he rocked back and forth into her. She groaned his name and brushed her hands through his hair, and then down his back, gripping his skin. 

Once they had finally climaxed and satisfied their lust, Lucas withdrew reluctantly, leaving a soft kiss on her lips. He turned his back to her for a couple of seconds, pulling his underpants and jeans back up. 

“Lucas?” Amy asked. 

Lucas turned back around to see Amy dismounting the table and looking at the slight inconvenience that he had left behind on the floor as it dripped from her. “Yeah?” 

“I don’t even know how to talk to you about this….” 

“What’s the matter?” 

“I…I know I’ve just started with you at section D, but I’m almost thirty three. I want a baby. Since getting with you, it’s become all I think about. It’s as though it never mattered before, but now I just feel like it’s something I need to do. I need to become a mum. I look at you, and I can’t imagine carrying anyone else’s child.” 

Lucas sighed, and slipped his arm around her waist. “We need to talk about this properly because we both know the risks we’re running by staying in the job and bringing children into this. I want a family, too. And I want to honour your want, Aim. I want to give us a baby.” 

“I know. I’d happily give it another year or two, but I won’t put a career before a family. The love you have from your family is what makes you, and that’s irreplaceable. If I quit work tomorrow, I’m replaceable there. So are you. Someone else would be signed on.” 

Amy made Lucas and herself a cup of tea and then sat down at the table. Lucas was holding her hand, his thumb tracing circles across her knuckles. “You’re quiet, Aim. What’s up?” He could see her gaze flitting around the room, not able to rest on him. In the usual way she did when nervous, Amy fiddled with the placemat on the table. 

“I’m…I’m slowing you down, I know I am,” Amy said, sighing. “You love your work, but now you’re with me…” 

“Where has this come from all of a sudden?” Lucas asked, blinking and cocking his head to the side questioningly. “I’ve never said that you’re slowing me down. Amy, you’re the most important thing to me, and I want to marry you. I want to be the father of your baby. Why don’t you think I want that?” 

“I see you at work. You live and breathe MI-5. All your past relationships have been people linked with your job, and then I come along and change that.”

“Not now. You are linked to my job now.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t start out that way. Very few people on the team have families, as in partners and children. It doesn’t work.” 

Lucas sighed. “Amy.” Then he groaned, running his hand through his hair. “Why are you putting this in the way of our future together? I don’t get it.”

“I changed you. Don’t deny it and say I didn’t, because I did.” 

“Yes, and you changed me for the better.” Lucas leaned towards Amy and cupped her cheek. “You’ve got to have more hope than this. You’re stronger than this. We get married, try for a baby, and then realise the job doesn’t fit? We leave. It’s simple. My job was the only thing I had before you, and it was my life. Now, you’re my life.” 

The next day in the office and Amy was given the news that her training would be split into two main components; six weeks in Birmingham and then five weeks in London. Ros sat with Amy, flicking through a file of details. “We don’t have to enter you for surveillance training, but the time in Birmingham will have some surveillance aspects. It’ll be very basic, such as setting up observation points and photography. If you choose to develop later on and go into the field, then you’d need the extensive surveillance training.” 

Amy nodded along. 

“The training starts the second week of February. So we’ve still got you here for a little longer. And on that note, are you still interested in the meal and drinks tomorrow for Christmas?” Ros asked, offering one of her rare smiles. 

“Definitely,” Amy replied. “That’s if Tariq chooses to not stay over.” 

“How has Lucas been since you started with us?” Ros asked, her voice growing a little quieter. 

“He hasn’t said anything else since that day he walked in on us talking about me accepting the offer.”

Ros noticed Amy then look down at the table, unsaid words hanging in the air between them. But she decided not to push the matter any further. 

“Right, well, now that you’re booked onto the training, things seem to be moving properly.”

Amy offered a nervous smile. 

“Oh, and Amy?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m here if you ever want to talk. It doesn’t have to be about the job.” 

“Thank you, Ros.” 

Amy left the small office and sat back down at her desk, only to see Lucas come walking over to her, holding a coffee cup. “I brought you a coffee, love. Everything okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah, Ros was just going through my training schedule. I start off with six weeks in Birmingham.” 

“Oh, bad luck,” Lucas chuckled. 

“Birmingham isn’t that bad. Coventry is hardly a posh area, is it? And that is where little old me hails from. I’ll be back on weekends by the looks of it.” 

Amy sipped her coffee. “I was hoping to go and see Mum and Dad for New Year. Did you want to come up with me?” 

“I don’t think I’m on call then, so yeah.” 

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @xxbyimm @knittastically @middleearthpixie @meganlpie @luna-xial @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @eunoiaastralwings @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @missihart23 @quiall321 @lemond57 @mrsdurin @evenstaredits @catthefearless @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @glassgulls @sazzlep @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

[yoonia]

foreword: 2023

back to writing ✍️

Happy New Year 2023!! 

I know I’m late for this, but I had to start the new year with a massive hole inside my heart. Last year was a rough ride, and I just want to thank everyone who had been there with me through it all. For those of you who have been following me for years, for those of you who had only found me last year, and for everyone who had just stumbled upon my blog recently, I truly appreciate every single one of you. 

Usually, I would end the past year and start the new with an overview of my journey, but after a hard year, I figured I’ll change things up and simply drop this post to say hi and give you a quick update. Nothing much is going to change in my blog, but I am trying to do my best to grow as a writer, so let’s just say that I have many things to offer. 

Coming into the year, I have set a goal to finish a few of my impending series (eg. About Time, In Motion, Shifters series) while working on to post most of the WIPs that have been sitting in my draft for an entire year. Please be patient with me as I start working on them one at a time. Meanwhile, some of my discontinued series/fics will be taken down and moved into my Patreon, which has been in the process of happening starting from last year. 

For more updates and announcements—whether it’s about my blog, personal, or my writing process—I will be adding them regularly into my Schedule Post. So please always refer to the post mentioned for any questions regarding my update/posting schedules. 

My Patreon is still open with more special contents coming up, and my Ko-Fi is available for those of you who enjoy reading my works and are interested to send some support. You can find all the links on my navigation page.

As a little bonus for everyone, I will be giving you a sneak peek of my WIPs that will be coming this year (aside from the series mentioned above). I’m crossing my fingers while hoping that this year will be much better than the last, and I do hope that you will all be there to join the ride.

Until we meet again.

xoxo, Dia

!!Bonus: Sneak peeks of my upcoming WIPs!!

⟶ Title | Eternal Sunshine - Epilogue for Spotless Minds ⟶ Character | Hoseok x reader ⟶ Genre | Past Lovers!AU, New Beginning, inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Minds (yes, the movie) ⟶ Summary | You had always felt like meeting him was a chance of fate. He had always been the missing piece of the puzzle that you had been searching for, the beautiful stranger who had somehow become your home. But when your soul seems to refuse to stop searching, you begin to find scraps of the past that had somehow gone missing, erased and forgotten, hiding the pain that would have tainted the perfect life that you had built together. Suddenly, you are given a chance to open the pandora box, to collect the missing scraps of your past. Would you dare to open it and risk what you have with him, or would you leave it alone and move on, just the way you had decided to do a long time ago? ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18/Mature

read here

⟶ Title | Alpha’s Inferno ⟶ Pairing | Namjoon x OC/female original character ⟶ Genre | Vampires!au, Werewolf!au, Alpha!Namjoon, Vampire!OC, Smut, Angst ⟶ Summary | Alphas can only be stronger with a mate. Losing his Destined had almost sent Namjoon into the wilderness, to an illness known to shifters as the Mating Sickness. Fighting his illness, the Alpha continues to lead his pack of misfits all on his own since. Facing betrayals, living constantly with distrust, losing his allies, and finding his own pack slowly crumbling into disarray as he slowly succumbs into his sickness. But the war has turned enemies into allies, and hate becomes love, and he wasn’t completely ready to find the Moon Goddess giving him a second chance to find love in the form of the being that he had once distrusted the most. ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature

read teaser here

⟶ Title | Flux: Blindsided - from Flux! the series, final instalment ⟶ Character | Yoongi x reader x Jungkook ⟶ Genre | Polyamorous!AU, Smut, Angst ⟶ Summary | Yoongi never knew that he did not only take your heart and soul when he walked out the door, but Jungkook’s as well. He had left the two of you behind by making you both believe that he was giving things up all due to his fear and insecurities. Little do you know that nothing is truly that simple. And it never really would. ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18/Mature

read teaser here

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Faerie au, Angst, Mystery, Smut ⟶ Summary | Being the only daughter of the Wicked King has kept you living in a sheltered life. Never once you were given the chance to see the world beyond the walls of your father’s old castle, and yet, it had never stopped you from hearing all the dark rumours of your father’s indiscretions which had left you to continue living in the shadows. When the day comes for your father to send you to live in his castle by the sea, he left you with a new rule set in place. You are left with a set of keys, one which would lead you to travel through the thousand magical doors inside his castle, but you are to never leave through the front door or to step foot through the golden door at the end of the hall. (A twist from Bluebeard. Spoiler: the Wicked King is Bluebeard himself) ⟶ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature ⟶ Warnings | Dark topic, explicit sex (more warnings will be added as I continue writing this)

read here

⟶ Title | The Whispers in The Mist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Ghost!Yoongi, Reincarnation au, Angst, Mystery, Smut ⟶ Summary | He first came to you through your dream, luring you to find him, only to always wake up with his shadows fading with the rising sunlight. But when you can still feel his presence in the daylight, when you keep finding traces of his existence wherever you look, you start to wonder if perhaps he is more than just an object of your lucid dream. Perhaps what you have been seeing at night are your forgotten memories, and he is finally here to help you unravel every part of it, until you could finally remember who he really was.   ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; Dark topic, sacrilege, explicit sex scene (more warnings will be added as I continue writing this)

Teaser available on Patreon!

⟶ Title | G.H.O.S.T: The Hacker’s Tale — Carousel side story ⟶ Pairings | Hoseok x OC/female reader (feat. Yoongi/Jungkook) ⟶ Genre | Hacker!Hoseok, Assassin!reader, Detective!Jungkook, CEO Yoongi, angst, suspense, mystery ⟶ Summary | Always have an escape plan. Jung Hoseok has always been the curious boy, too smart for his own good, and has lived on the edge for as long as he could remember. Living in the shadows, he had operated under the name “G.H.O.S.T” and nobody had ever managed to catch his trail. All except for one man, who had not only given him a chance for redemption, but also a reason for him to survive, and you, the shadow that he had overlooked for a long time, but always ready to come out into the light before he gets far too deep into his own darkness.

Teaser 1 is available on Patreon; read teaser 2 here

⟶ Title | Bad For You: Undercover - A Spin-Off ⟶ Character | Taehyung x reader ⟶ Summary | They say only the strongest women can love men like him. You thought you could take the challenge, but what happens when life and everything around you challenge you back? ⟶ Genre | Stripper!au, Stripper!Taehyung, Smut, Angst, Mature theme ⟶ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

⟶ Title | Nefarious; In Motion - a side story ⟶ Character | Jimin x reader | note: with POV changes ⟶ Summary | Welcome to Club La Rouge, where your sexual fantasies come to life. For the past year you have been a member to the club, never once had they failed to help you indulge in your deepest and darkest need, the desire to embrace a part of you that you had never been able to show anyone else before. Tonight, however, you are met with a disappointment when your arranged ‘date’ had bailed on you. But just as you are ready to turn away in defeat, you cross path with the lovely attendant whose gentle gaze and soft smile have always been able to make you fluster more than any dates you have been with. You know that accepting his offer might cause some inconveniences for both of you, but do you really have it in you to say no? ⟶ Genre | Sex Club!au, Gentlemen Club!au, Smut ⟶ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

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