#she doesn't actually have this mount yet.

[sezja]

Glamtober Day 3: Match Your Mount

Grey with purple stripes? Why, this one's easy!

[cregansdingdong]

ɢᴜᴀʀᴅᴇᴅ.

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Wife!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: he does get snappy for a second so very slight angst, his boo thang doesn't tolerate that so don't worry, period-typical misogyny, gets a tiny bit suggestive at the end but nothing crazy hes eating her coochie out off camera; lovers spat but he can't resist her this is so Honeymoon by lana del ray also love and war by Fleurie

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Aemond was not a man of many words. His wife knew that upon their marriage. She knew he had a fortress around his heart and his mind in order to better protect himself, and it wasn’t something she took complete offense to—there was no point in taking it personally; the walls would not come down because they took vows in front of the High Septon. Day by day, she would have to chip at him, speck by speck, brick by brick, until all that was left…well, she had yet to figure that part out. But still, she persevered. Their nuptials were built on a political agreement in the night—like everything else among the highborns—her father brutally negotiating his terms to bend the knee to King Aegon. She remembered what it felt like being stirred out of her sleep by her handmaiden, dressing in the dark to make an appearance for their princely guest. There had been little explanation at the moment, and even her sisters hadn’t a clue.

Until they saw him. One-eyed and formidable; standing there, the silver-haired Targaryen Prince didn’t need to do much to strike fear in the hearts of Borros Baratheon’s five daughters. Lined up like prized cattle, they waited for him to take his pick. She thought he’d pick Cassandra—the son they’d create together would most likely be the heir of the Stormlands. That was the smart choice. Instead, as she stared ahead humiliatingly, a gaze of amethyst locked onto the slope of her shoulder, trailing the silhouette of where her jaw met her neck. Her throat. It was predatory, almost, the way he inspected her. A viper choosing the most appetizing little mammal it could find. Then he approached her, somehow even taller than he seemed—he stood close enough that she could feel the heat of him emanating into her chilled skin, his even breath fanning lightly against her cheek. “This one.”

The words were so final. There was no arguing, no further negotiations to be made. He’d chosen her. That was all. A year passed, and it was a long one. His betrothed did her best to ignore the whispers of the men of her father’s court. One-eyed Kinslayer, they’d say, the youngest is his bride. He’ll come to claim her soon. The day did arrive when the Targaryen prince returned on dragonback to collect what he was entitled to. There had only been the bare warning of a raven just a day before, leaving her enough time to decide what she wanted to take to King’s Landing and send her trunks ahead. Vhagar arrived after dawn, her rider as stoic and unyielding as he’d been the last time they met. Saying goodbye to her sisters was difficult, but she managed, remembering the very firm prompt Lord Baratheon had given her about crying in front of the prince. And she didn’t, despite the indignation that came with being sold like a broodmare. Her entire life she’d known her birth would only be useful as a bridge between Houses—but being a bride of war felt shameful, vile, and held no pleasantries.

Meeting the dragon churned her stomach terribly. Other than a few of the quiet shushes in High Valyrian, Aemond hadn’t said much during the exchange. The ancient beasts hadn’t cared to eat her, thankfully. The first hurdle was over with. She rode on the back of Vhagar that morning—which was somehow more terrifying than it sounded…and a tad humiliating for how long it took her to actually climb to the mount. She’d expected him to rush her, to make a comment, but he remained silent and unusually patient. The journey itself felt longer than it was, her fists clenched around the hem of his doublet, but it was over soon enough. They’d married within the week, barely having said a word to each other. Every day after that was a power struggle. Aemond must’ve thought she’d be meek, or perhaps quiet, but he’d been either sorely mistaken or genuinely misled. But the deed was done, the marriage consummated thoroughly. He made his bed and he had to lie in it. Whatever the case was, their shared chambers—his idea—worked dually as a bedroom and a battlefield. While she was successful at times in penetrating his armor, the circumstances did not change even after half a year of marriage.

“What is wrong now?” She hummed, watching him stare down into the flames of the lit hearth, hands pensively behind his back. She knew his habits like they were imprinted in her skin. He only stood like that when something was bothering him. Her embroidery was paused in her lap as she waited. Aemond turned his head slightly, his eye flicking over to her. He said nothing for a few more moments, as if he was debating entertaining such a question at all. Sometimes he liked when she pushed at him. She wasn’t sure if this was that sort of evening. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, wife.” There wasn’t as much bite to his words as she expected there would be, but if he wanted to start, she would finish. “I would like to concern myself, thank you, lest you go blind staring into the fire before our anniversary. What has you in such a foul mood, husband?”  She puts her craft down on the table, staring at him impatiently. He stiffened at her words, and she knew then that she struck a nerve. It seems to work though. Aemond’s features harden, the slightest bit of the real him seeping through his endless stoicism. “Small Council.” Was all he said. She gets the gist of it. “I see. Would you like to share anything else?”

“No.”

Something about the blatant rejection thrilled her. She was no fool as to what probably happened—the King was drunk, angry, or plainly at odds with whatever it was that her husband and the rest were trying to suggest to him. She’d heard from the Dowager Queen they had begun talks of making a match for young Jahaera. Aemond was a hard man to read, but he wasn’t completely indecipherable. “I’m going to offer you my council then.” She doesn’t wait for him to respond, legs uncrossing upon her standing. He doesn’t move as she strides toward the fireplace, as unyielding as she’d been the moment she entered the sept and became his wife. “His Grace, the King, is courageous and inspiring. He’s a man of the finest breeding and a formidable, yet merciful, attentive ruler–”

“If you’re going to give council that I did not ask for, at least speak plainly.” He grumbles, irritation emitting from his poreless face. “In this room, it is only you and I, and neither of us wish to lie. I care not to hear compliments of my brother fall from the lips of my wife.” She considers her words for a few moments. “Alright. The King is a drunk who lives in his own world—but he is still the King, and that means the ideas of his advisors can be very easily dismissed by a mere word if he so wishes. Attempting to speak sense into him, or to convince him, will never work when he has such power.” 

“If you’re suggesting I play into his drunk delusions, I will not.” He scoffs, eye narrowed in reproach. She tries not to get angry right away. “That is not what I’m suggesting. Before you so rudely interrupted me, I was going to say that your best chance is convincing the second highest person in the realm. The Queen.”

“This is a matter between men. Helaena is just as much in her own deluded world as he is—worse, even. She is dreaming her life away. Speaking to her is not unlike catching a cloud, wife.” Aemond says, walls coming back up to ignore her again. His coldness returns in an instant. “Your council has proven useless as I knew it would be. You should return to your embroidery.” And now she was angry. “We’re the perfect pair then, aren’t we, my prince? You dismiss me as Aegon dismisses you.” Her words came out like a challenge, daring him perhaps to actually consider what it was she was trying to say. He reacts accordingly. A long, slender hand wraps itself around her arm in an inflexible grip, yanking her to him seemingly to remind her of their roles. It didn’t hurt. The words were gritted from between his teeth. “What did you say to me, wife?”

“You heard me. Your unwillingness to accept another perspective of how to get what you want will be your downfall. And to think I was almost about to offer to speak to Helaena on your behalf. Perhaps she is a cloud to you, husband, but she’s quite tangible if you treat her like a human being.” She huffs. Aemond pauses at that, in thought as his hand loosens ever so slightly. “I should bend you over my knee for speaking to me that way—you’re lucky I’m not in the mood for it. Talk to Helaena then. Tell her Aegon is behaving like a stubborn fool and convince her that the Lannisters are the strongest choice for Jahaera if she cannot produce another male heir—I’m not asking.” His gaze stared down into her face, imploring her to refuse and see what was going to happen.

“Is my husband demanding my help?” She grins, something absolutely infuriating to him. Help. He loathed that word. “You said it yourself. You’re not asking. My idea must truly be valuable to you—my bond with Helaena even more so. I thought it was a matter between men?” The taunt in her voice was exhaled against every nerve in his body urging him to act. To show her how maddening she was. To fuck the teasing out of her right there beside the fireplace. He was itching to have her do as he wished, and to do with her as he wanted. “You’re testing my patience.” He warns, something uncompromising burning behind his eyes. So different, and yet exactly the same. His wife leaned in closer, undeterred. “If you’re not willing to say please verbally, husband, you can do it another way. Or, of course, you can hurry along to the next council meeting if you’re so eager to be at Aegon’s mercy. What will it be?”

“Another way?” He murmured, eyes locked down at the juncture of her throat. “Hmm. It seems we’ve come to an understanding, wife. Lift your skirts.”

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[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐕 ✴️

Taglist: @faespace @baellabass @ejs398

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, sexual content, no actual smut, mentions of noncon

>Alicent and her children had been guarding your sleep the whole night, the night of the king's passing

>Aemond saw his mother just observe you while displaying an unreadable expression, he prides himself with being able to decipher people and use it to his benefit, but this time, his mother seemed out of reach to him. If he had to guess, she was attempting to treat you like a pawn, trying to dehumanize you to gain control over the political situation, and she was failing

>For his part, his thoughts while observing you, were much tainted he was watching your chest rise with every breath, examining your boobs and how they would slightly change shape when you laid on your back, much rounder. He would love if his mother and sister left to grope and caress, even just over the cloth, even for just a minute. Just a minute to smell your skin, your natural scent now free of the perfumes you would wear to fit in court

>He would love to have a minute, but he wants a whole life, Aemond is sure not even growing old with you would leave him satisfied, he would look for you again

>He wondered what would you think of him, he has a plethora of fantasies depending on your reactions. The most obvious one, disgust. He would cage you his his arms, hold your wrists with one hand while using the other to rid you of the bothersome clothing, sucking and biting at your neck, then your niples. You resist, but he is able to bring you pleasure regardless, some of your screams turn into moans and by the time he's kissing below your navel and starting to use a finger to play with your slit, your pleas of "no" and "please do not" are almost automatic, you do want him to go down on you, but you continue to chant the words as if to preserve what's left of purity

>But that fantasy would soon get old, he wished to exert power over you, yet have you willingly submit

>If you could only look at him the same way that you used to while consoling him over his lack of a mount

>Helaena was there as well, Jahaera and Jahaerys had been brought by her, but taken to bed by the maids in no time

>Helaena sung intelligible songs while playing with the threads in-between her fingers, for the little audible parts, Aemond heard the songs speak of dragons, swords, fire and blood

>His mother had arranged for Aegon to usurp the throne, he would never say this out loud, he knows his brother is a usurper, but he encourages this, as he wants the strong bastards away from the line of succession as one can be. Better off dead, but that's too much to ask

>Everything was in place, except for the king. Aegon was missing, «of course Aegon was missing» he thought

>Otto wanted to send ser Criston to find him, but Alicent protested it would leave you alone. They went back and forth until Otto said they would entrust Daeron with your guard. Aemond rolled his eye.

>Helaena had left without him noticing, possibly to mother the twins and whatnot

>He was in his mother's chambers, Otto alongside her, discussing the future of the realm. «This is the real small council» he said to himself

>"I will find Aegon, mother" said Aemond

>"That is already taken care of, Ser Criston will not rest until-" Otto spoke

>"He doesn't know where Aegon is, I do"

>"Then speak at once, boy" Aemond grimaced at the words of his grandsire

>"I am not to speak, I am to search, this is matter that requires involvement" he paused "But I want something"

>"We shall send Ser Criston, you will join if he fails"

>"And waste all that time? He may be as well as dead halfway through ser Criston's crusade"

>"Name your prize" Otto replied, breathing defeat in every syllable

>"You will hear it after" Aemond saw Otto arch an eyebrow and open his mouth to speak "Do not worry, I have no interest on the crown, or land, or titles, I would have acted before had been that my goal" His mother urged him to speak, but he had to remain silent, he was sure she would understand

>Him and the royal guard were underdressed in rags to blend in, Aemond wore a cape to cover his silver mane

>He had to endure the obnoxious Cole knocking on every brothel door like he was a lost peasant

>He was very uncomfortable when he found the madam of that one place, staying stiff and shivering under his cold facade

>He thanked the seven you could not see him like that, weak

>Once they found the White Worm, she said the prince would be handed over a ridiculous sum that they bargained

>But before they could leave with Aegon, he remembered something. The White Worm weaves silk through far and wide in the realm. The White Worm who is the paramour of the prince of the city, the White Worm that could have been your mother

>Aemond would order extra vigilance on you that night, while Misarya was known to be a slimy, untrustworthy woman, she had never been known to betray Daemon, or to betray gold for that matter, and Daemon was not going to skimp on you

>He had to say he was anything but surprised when he learned of that idiotic scheme of his brother to leave the city. Aemond imagined he'd waste his small fortune on whores as soon as he arrived, feast with men who are just waiting for him to surrender his better judgement to a glass of wine, then steal whatever is left. He always thought Aegon would likely die with his pants on his knees, possible covered in vomit and other fluids, choking on a chicken bone, or something as meaningless as a cherry pit, his women would steal his gold and he'd die slowly, lonely, pathetically, he had to say the idea did not displeased him too much

>But then, he could only cash his prize if he retrieved him, in one piece no less

>Aegon had returned, being almost locked up in his chambers, and the death of Viserys continued a secret to the world until the preparations for Aegon's ascension were finished. By the third day, the corpse of his father started to stink, he had already been rotting in life, and death was not stopping that. He looked at the king, he found him graceless, he had nothing, he was an absent king and absent father, Aemond would do better if he had the chance

>A couple hours after Aegon's arrival, you had woken up, almost immediately you were taken from your room and (to your perspective) randomly put on another, the maids insisted it was for your safety, and you decided to not waste a breath asking them questions that were for someone else. You wanted to see Alicent, and you wanted to see Viserys

>No one would give you answers, and you had no way of communicating with your family, not your father or even your family in the castle, for that matter, you only had ser Criston as a form of familiarity, not even your usual maids were to be seen anywhere. Even though you did not wish to think of it, it was probably because Aegon had chosen them to place his "affections"

>The second night you were awake and isolated, you commanded sir Criston to come into your room and talk to you, give you whatever detail of information he had. He refused again and again, with excuses of how he answered to the queen only, how he was to the door to protect you, how it was improper

>But he ended up giving in

>He told you all he could say, was that the king had died, and that now a conflict of ink and ravens was arising

>You wept the lost of your uncle, and (awkwardly) ser Criston put a hand on your shoulder, ghosting over it. And he told you to fear not, you were in good hands

>You wanted to believe him, you did

>Back to Aemond, he had come to speak with his mother as soon as he was done arranging your room transfer. He felt accomplished by commanding, especially when commanding for your well-being. Alicent knew what Aemond would ask for, and she had tried to ready herself to hear it

>"I want lady Y/N, wed her to me" he did little to stop the smile growing on his lips

>Alicent could have said many things, but she just asked her son one thing. "Do you understand the consequences, Aemond?"

>He nodded, he did not care, if the consequences of taking you were fire and blood, so be it. Never in the seven kingdoms had existed a more lovely lady, and Aemond was only blind in one eye

>He wanted to marry her before Aegon's crowning, and he had threatened to get the supreme septon to do it in secret if he had to, he was smart, and knew it was just a matter of time before Daemon and Rhaenyra caught wind of everything, and he will not lose you

>Daeron had come to face him, Aemond never thought he had the balls to do it

>Whining about his lack of honor, how he was stealing their cousin, dragging them when she was practically engaged to him already

>Aemond let his anger simmer, he smiled while the boiling blood warmed his body, the delicious liquid reminding he was alive, he lived for the taste of rage, his or from others

>"Worry not, little brother, you can now take your vows as a white cloak, so you can become my wife's sworn sword and stand behind her door when she and I share our bedchamber"

>Daeron reached for his sword, he did the same

>"Uh uh, are you sure?" He teased while Daeron seemed on the verge of tears (sadness, ire, who knows)

>His younger brother simply walked away from him, in shame

>You were losing your mind in confusion, and no tantrums from you were enough for the servants to let you leave your chambers to visit Viserys' corpse

>So imagine your surprise when the maids came with shiny new silks, to dress you for your wedding day

>Two ladies, one named Olivya Swann and one named Celesse Hightower, announced themselves as your new ladies in waiting. They said your measures were needed to confect a wedding gown for you, you refused to strip until they spoke and told you what was going on, you felt bad for them, as they were clearly not the ones to blame for the mayhem

>It took a while, the maids genuinely did not know much, the orders came from above and they obeyed. But it was Celesse who finally broke down. They were sent to aid the preparations for your wedding to prince Aemond

>You had to sit down on the bed, your head was spinning around, now there was nothing to do, you were a prisoner in King's Landing. And it was easy to put two and two together, they were not planning to bend the knee to Rhaenyra, and you were there as a pawn in their twisted game of chess

>You yelled at the women to leave you alone, and despite their attempts to calm you down, you ordered them to go. You knew they would come back later, but you simply could not stand there like nothing was happening

>How could Alicent allow this? If they wanted to marry you to the greens, why Aemond? It was clear you and Daeron had far more in common, and comments were made about betrothing you to him, why Aemond?

>Aemond was cruel, and you could never decipher what he wanted from you, he took pleasure on hurting your family, and you were further perplexed on why would he want to marry a bastard

>Maybe he was being forced to marry you too, it would have made you almost sympathetic if it were not for his previous actions

>You tried to sleep, you layed fully dressed on the bed without covering yourself with the blankets

>You dreamt of nothing, and were awaken once again by the maids looking to measure you

>They came in, and helped you undress as to avoid the measures be altered by the thick of your clothing

>You were sleepy and docile, allowing them to carefully place the meter in your waist, bust, hips and shoulders, they also measured your arms

>Olivya presented you with squares of several luxury fabrics, one stack was several shades of white, and the other was a similar amount of shades of green.

>You did not let the opportunity slip, this would probably be the one choice you would have on your marriage

>You made your ladies show you each and every square of fabric, you took all the time in the world. Finally, the chosen ones were pearl white with emerald and laurel green. The colors reminded you of your dragon, you missed him so much, but the gods only know where he could be, he was too large for the dragonpit and therefore set free, he would have come to your calling once you left with your family, that was what was supposed to happen

>You spent three more days locked away, at least you had Olivya and Celesse now. Celesse came from Oldtown, she was the daughter of Hobert Hightower, you made her tell you stories of Daeron, as you were unable to see him. You fondly smiled when thinking of him, your dragon knight

>Olivya was from the stormlands, but she had been raised in King's Landing, as her uncle was serving in court, and she was brought to keep company to princess Helaena

>You told them of Pentos, then of Dragonstone, you told them of your little brothers, so small and cute, you also told them about dragons, you told them about your home, in all its meaning

>Three days after the measuring, the wedding gown was ready, you were amazed, and wondered how many people had been working in full speed in order to complete such an intricate piece in so little time. There was pearls and little gems embroided in the translucent sleeves, a green dress, a beautiful Hightower green dress

>Celesse spoke highly of your soon-to-be husband, telling tales of his skill with the sword and his intelligence

>Olivya told you you would enjoy married life, that the prince was a fine suitor with "admirable manners"

>You remained silent, luckily, your saddened face was covered by a white veil

>What you saw could hardly be called a ceremony, there was Alicent, Aemond and a septon. You slowly walked towards the altar, and recited the vows you had learned when fantasizing as a little girl, none of your fantasies happened this way

>Like always, Aemond was unreadable, and you did not care to try to read him anymore

>There was no feast, no celebration, nothing remotely similar to the wedding ceremony of a prince

>Like everything around the castle, it was rushed, poorly done and with second intentions behind it

>You struggled to look at Alicent, she was dear to you once, but now you debate whether should you trust her

>During the dreaded wedding night, you expected Aemond to humiliate you, to take you by force and call you names, to degrade you

>Anxiety pooled in your stomach, and your eyes burned as you tried to hold tears in

>But instead, he kissed your hand and laid next to you, not even touching you

>You must disgust him, he was forced to marry you, and he has no interest in you, you thought you found yourself in the position of Rhea Royce

>But you could speak plainly to Aemond, you always had

>"An unconsummated marriage can be easily annulled" you pointed out

>"You don't sound at all aroused with the idea, you appear hardly seductive" Aemond replied

>Aemond sat down on the bed, you copied him

>"I am not Aegon, I found screams for help less than enticing. Besides, you would never love me if I raped you" he stated as if he was talking about his day

>"Who says I love you now?" Maybe you should have not been so bold, but you were

>"We are married, you'll learn to do it eventually"

>"As humble as ever. Then let me ask why I should I love you, and you are free not to"

>"I love you, Y/N" you could feel the scorching heat coming from his eye, the sapphire shone in the candlelight. You were speechless, it would have been hard to believe if he wasn't gazing at you so intensely, he carefully took your hand in his

>"You have not acted as such" was the only thing you thought to answer

>"I am not Daeron" your eyes widen in shame. It is not unfaithfulness, yet shame makes you feel as if it is "But again, you have not treated me like you treated Daeron, have you?" He knew what he was doing to you

>"He never called me a bastard"

>Despite the topics of conversation, you both remained calmed, vulnerable in the cocoon of the sheets, your hand was still intertwined with his

>"Neither have I" he squeezed your hand a little

>"But you continue to humiliate Jace, Luke and Joffrey for it"

>"And I paid with my eye. And with you" you look at him confused after he says that, so he continues "After I bonded with Vhagar, you pushed me away, you never forgave me for it"

>"You never asked for forgiveness"

>"And I will not, not for what I did, but perhaps the way I did it"

>You and your husband talked for what it felt like days, for what it felt like years of lost time

>By the hour of the nightingale, you felt like you married one man and now lay with another. Despite his hardened exterior, you now smile at Aemond the way you did once when you were children

>"We still have time to make this wedding night exciting, my lady wife" he smiled mischievously, you looked at him with slight distrust, hoping he was not expecting sex after all that heartfelt talk "would do me the honor of flying with me?" You smiled

>"Dagahrion is not here"

>"There's plenty of room in Vhagar, I ride the largest dragon in the world"

>"You clearly have not seen mine lately" you teased

>"I suppose we'll have to clear that matter once he returns"

>You dressed up and sneaked into the dragonpit, this kind of mischief made you think of happier days, made you forget about the mess

>You missed Vhagar, she used to be Laena's, and she remembered you

>You rode with Aemond until sunrise, in that moment it was just the three of you. No marriage, no usurpation, no conflicts, nothing but the wind in your faces

>Until you had to come back, and you found the preparations for Aegon's coronation being set in place

>"This is outrageous, disgraceful, illicit! This is simply- this is bullshit, Aemond!" You shouted to him once alone "Aegon will be the worst king since Maegor and you know that"

>"I am not the one who sat him on that throne, don't you shout at me for it"

>"It's true, but you are not doing anything to stop it, Rhaenyra should be crowned"

>"Of, course, then Jacaerys Strong can become protector of the realm" he snickered sarcastically

>"May his father be Ser Harwin, Laenor or the damn mushroom, we are sure he is of Rhaenyra and that is what matters"

>"If he was born of Rhaenyra's husband then it truly would not matter if his sire is mushroom or whoever may he be, he is a bastard"

>"So am I! Appoint me leader of the bastard council If you want, because I will defend his claim to the throne, Rhaenyra is the heir and you and I know Aegon is a depraved drunk"

>"Bastard or not, you are my wife, and I will not argue anymore, you are mine now. And when you are called, I want you pretty and smiling when witnessing his coronation, because your husband says so" you had not even realized when he had caged you against the wall, his eyes burning with rage. No trace left of the man you spent last night with

>"Yes, my prince" was all you said. He nodded, kissed your forehead and left the room

>Your father used to call the court "the nest of vipers" and now you understand, the only way to survive was playing their game

>You called in for Olivya and Celesse. Told them to dress you and arrange you to attend Aegon's coronation

>You were pleasant, smiling when you had to, staying right at your husband's side, one may think of you as tame

>You even let Aemond fancy himself your hero, standing before you when Meleys interrumpted the ceremony

>Rhaenys looked at you, you knew she could not steal you away from this, so in her eyes, you imagined her apology

>You decided you will come back to your family, and so, after Aegon's coronation, you told Alicent you needed to go to the Sept, being so throughly shaken. As Aemond said you needed to be guarded all day long, you asked for Daeron to accompany you. Aemond would have never allowed it, but Aemond was not there, he was with the small council talking about recruiting the loyalty of different houses

>Once in the Sept, after praying, you looked at Daeron, it pained you to ask

>"Do you love me, Daeron?"

>"You are married to my brother, my lady"

>"We know what happened. And I did not ask you that"

>"It is improper for us to talk this way"

>You felt rejected, but once again asked "Do you love me, Daeron?"

>"I do" he bashfully responded

>"Enough to run away with me?"

>"Don't make me choose between honor and love"

>"I fear I have to"

>"Enough to run away with you"

>"Then meet me at the dragonpit at the hour of the bat"

>"Y/N, please-"

>"I will run regardless, but I would rather you are with me"

>You rose from your knees looking at him

>He came closer, your lips were near, but not touching, you could feel his breath

>"Kiss me once we're far away, do whatever you desire then" you say before leaving the Sept

>You decided to wait in the library until it was time to go, on your way, ser Criston asked if he could scort you there, you were reluctant, but skillfully lied and said it would be a pleasure

>"My lady, may I speak plainly to you?"

>"You have my permission"

>"I saw you asked for prince Daeron to accompany you in your prayers. Please don't look for him, he loves you, my lady" he made a melancholic pause, and again, his hand ghosted over your shoulder, his face close to yours "And noble ladies only run away with the knights in tales and songs"

>"I understand"

>Ser Criston's words left you with a strange feeling, he seemed sincere, did he know something you did not? Maybe you should wait before running, maybe you should find a better way to do it

>But you remained firm, and slipped out of bed once Aemond was asleep

>You went to the dragonpit, singing to the dragons, and hoping for Dagahrion to come back, if not, you'd have to leave on Tessarion

>You heard steps, thinking it was the dragonkeepers, you hid

>"Riñaaa~" you heard Aemond's voice, and you feared. You don't know if he would be capable of doing you harm, but you'd rather keep wondering

>His voice kept chasing you, in a mocking tone

>Until he finally found you

>You were a the center, and you felt the gazes of the dragons, but by far the fiercest one was Aemond's

>He pressed you against the wall, his sword unsheathed

>His body was pressed against yours, you felt him practically vibrating with wrath

>"I have wanted you for years, yet I held back, I was patient and devoted, and you run away at the first chance you get" he spat

>"I guess we had a rocky two-day marriage" if you were dying, you were doing it with your head high

>"I should have broke you, but I was a fool" it was all tension, you did not know if he would snap, or when would he, and kill you or gravely injure you

>He grabbed your face with his sword still pressing and threatening to break your skin

>He kissed you roughly, like he wanted to mark you as well as harm you, like he was tasting both heaven and steel

>When you were recovering your breath, you spoke "will you slay me?"

>"I will take you back and treat you like the backstabbing bastard cunt you are, the way I should always have" you knew this was probably the last time you will be like this, unbroken, whole

>You missed him back, tasting all the poison inside him, it was messy, rough, teeth crashing, you took him like he was your last breath. You were just saving courage

>All that could be heard was your labored breathing, Aemond's sword never moving. You felt an ache in your chest, you were scared. You wished for the mother, the celestial mother, the one that never left you, unlike every other woman you had though of as a mother. You wished for your father, although violent and rude, unpredictable and sour, he loved you with his whole heart, body and soul

>Maybe you were just going to make a fool of yourself, you hoped so, that Aemond would just laugh at you

>You took a breath of the second-hand air, smoky and anything but clean, and when your lungs were full, you screamed so loud your throat felt raspy

>"Dracarys!"

>Dragons obey their masters, and Dagahrion was not here, so it would work, supposedly

>The last thing you saw was the startled face of your husband when all the dragons around you spat scorching hot fire and burned both bodies

>Less than an hour later, prince Daeron found your remains. Some dragonkeepers said your voice commanded all the dragons to attack, others say that it was impossible, that it must have been Vhagar trying to kill you by Aemond's command, accidentally getting caught in-between

>The death of lady Y/N Targaryen, daughter of prince Daemon Targaryen, [allegedly] at hands of her own husband, Aemond Targaryen made the dance of dragons a conflict of fire and blood

[quill-beetlewing]

I've just re-read the short lived duel that Aeneas and Achilles have in Book 20 of the Iliad and it's actually the most hilarious fucking thing.

So it starts out with Apollo disguising himself as Lycaon, one of Priam's many sons, and telling to have a go at Achilles. Keep in mind that this is post-Patroclus Achilles. Aka: berserk Achilles. Aka: so fucking mad he would fight a literal river Achilles.

Aeneas, who is capable of critical thinking, says he doubts he can actually take him on. He also references a time when he was herding cattle on Mount Ida and Achilles ambushed him, adding that the only reason he survived then was because Zeus gave him enough strength to book it (cracking up the official times that he's been saved by a god from certain death to 3, you go dude!).

However, after a bit of back and forth and a ton of hyping up on Apollo's part, Aeneas decides to try anyway.

Like, what could possibly go wrong?

Achilles notices Aeneas charging at him and he begins to taunt him. It's something among the lines of: "I'm sorry, are you, background trojan character #61, actually gonna try and beat me? And then what? Do you think that Priam will reward you in some way? Maybe making you king after him? Well it's BULLSHIT, because Priam fucked so much that your chances of succeeding him are basically 0. Ahah. Loser."

Now, you'd think that maybe Aeneas got enraged at the comment and attacked him, or maybe he even got scared and backed down, but NOPE. What does Aeneas do?

Well, first of all, he insults Achilles' insults, comparing his bickering to that of a child. Literally, "I heard third graders do better than that." And then he decides to list his and Hector's entire fucking family tree.

You know that part of the Bible that's like "this guy sired this other guy, and this other guy sired yet another guy" and so on? It's basically that.

So after he's done with all that, Aeneas states that while he'd love to have a battle of insults with Achilles, because according to him he's actually very good at insulting people (his words, not mine), they should probably throw hands now. Achilles agrees.

The duel is shortlived and Aeneas gets his ass handed to him. Badly. As expected. And he's about die when ✨️POV shift✨️ we're not on Olympus where Poseidon, Hera and Athena are watching this absolute train wreck go down.

Poseidon, pitying Aeneas, suddenly goes on a rant. It's something among the lines of: "come on guys, look at him, he's just a little guy! He literally has no stakes in this war, he doesn't deserve to die here! He even gives us lots of gifts and sacrifices, he's literally such a nice guy. How can we do this to him!?

...oh and also he's part of some prophecy, Zeus would get mad if he died."

The fact that the way it's worded makes it sound like Aeneas being part of a literal prophecy is an afterthought to him absolutely floors me, Poseidon is literally just attached to a random dude that's fighting on the opposite side to his because he thinks he's nice.

After all that Hera is pretty unimpressed and states that she really doesn't care if our man lives or dies as neither her or Athena have ever saved a Trojan from death, she however adds that Poseidon is free to do whatever he wants.

The literal moment Hera stops talking, Poseidon lunges down from Olympus and onto the battlefield to look for the two combatants. When he does, he saves Aeneas like only he can do.

You know how when Diomedes first tries to kill Aeneas, Aphrodite gently folds her hands around him to shield him? There's none of that here. Poseidon just runs up to him and literally flings the motherfucker.

It literally says that he flies "high in the air". It's like a Looney Toons sketch.

So Aeneas lands and, while he's obviously a bit dazed, Poseidon proceeds to call him a madman and essentially tells him to never do something stupid like that again and just wait until Achilles is dead, then he'll be able to murder Achaeans to his heart's content. Aeneas is fine with that.

Achilles, who just saw his opponent just get yeeted into the fucking sky, just shrugs and goes "welp, guess that guy's off limits, I'm gonna go kill someone else now I guess lol".

This entire scene is pure fucking gold and the fact that I've literally never seen anyone talk about it just breaks my heart.

[galacticsuperstitions]

the minds of a lab at three different points (LONG rambling under the cut)

I am constantly in awe of the analyses people put out about Arknights on this website. I feel like my own interpretations are somewhat lacking as a result, but I was confident enough to post this, at least. I've had this idea for a long time now, I think since Lone Trail released, but I've only been able to make the time for it now.

Rhine Lab has so many fucked up elements and people involved in it that it's actually impressive. They were really gunning for "most unethical scientific consortium" reward. Really, though, it's just the result of Kristen gunning for her parents' wishes. All of the directors want something and all of those somethings are different.

Things I want to mention or just feel proud of (allowing myself this because of how long this took):

-I was originally planning on crossing out Saria's surname to reflect that we still don't know what it is in canon, but I don't know why whoever has this poster would do that, so I just kept it in. Hermon refers to Mount Hermon, which Saria's name apparently derives from. Technically, her name here is the same thing twice. Oh well.

-I don't know who this poster belongs to. It's just in some Rhine Lab tech's personal desk, I guess? Doesn't explain the doodles, though. Maybe they were bored and feeling spiteful about the potential job insecurity of your boss being comatose in space.

-I realized only while making this post that I made Saria's, Muelsyse's, and Jara's doodles reference Kristen, yet Kristen's only references herself and her parents. Completely unintentional, but appropriate nonetheless.

-I am so happy with how the poster came out. It makes up for how hard I had to fight Canva for it to come out like that. Here it is in full if you want to look at it closely for whatever reason. (writing an actual description for this thing was fun!)

-Andenate doesn't actually have a face under the sticky note. That's why he's still Mike Wazowski'd in the poster png. I didn't feel like drawing one since it wouldn't be shown in the finished pieces anyway. His jacket is just the same as Magallan's.

-Ifrit's picture board was a literal last-minute addition. It's why the images are sketches rather than being in the lineless style of the poster. It feels fitting, though, so I'm keeping it that way. Seeing Ifrit all grown up and doing so well in Lone Trail was wonderful. There's something in her being happy and healthy and also surrounded by not just her loved ones and friends from Rhine Lab, but also people outside of it. She's cultivated her life to be as fulfilling as she wants it to be, and while there is still room to grow, she has plenty of support and insight from others for it to do so. I may be misrepresenting her a bit (the sleepiness doesn't help), but man. I love Ifrit. She's so cool.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

The idea that future Leo and mc having bouts of "was that past Leo just now??? Smh" is SO funny to me like

Imagine past Leo keeps coming back to take a look at his future, and it's starting to piss Leo off like ??? Man he just wants to cuddle with his wife after work, and now there's this little shit coming in to steal his cuddles AND he's treating his wife semi poorly??? (Future Leo can't fathom that it's his own damn self that's the problem LMFAO)

Future Leo starts to leave notes and passive aggressive comments on his body so past Leo can find it. Past Leo doesn't know what's going on but every time he goes to the future he keeps finding angrier and angrier notes (first it's "treat her well, you're a guest here" and "you love her more than life itself even if you don't know it yet" but after a few rounds he gets impatient and starts going nuclear "listen you little shit you make my wife uncomfortable again I'll remember this shit and shave your head in the past" "get the fuck out and leave me alone I'm gonna make you binge eat and make you fat")

Imagine future Leo being so pissed off about the "stolen" time that he insists that he gets EXTRA loving from his wife for it (it's really not that bad, he's just being dramatic again) and whoops it looks like all those extra rounds have gotten his darling wife pregnant 🥴🥴🥴

if past Leo manages to come back in the middle of a sesh with a very obviously pregnant mc he might just have a heart attack then and there pp

The diabolical streamer might be peeking into the future too much

Leo has gotten used to popping to the future for a little while. Leo is neither used to the interruptions to his life and very upset about it

Wc: 1,6K

Notes: nah but he would actually die jsjsjsj he knew he was married to her but not that he was that down bad! This was so fun to write

Cw: she/her for the reader, implications of sex and Leo comes when his future version has sex with his wife

Leo recognizes he can be hard to get along with most of the time, he is snarky, snoops around for secrets and extorts people with them, can be cruel, among many other things. But he never expected to say that he got himself fed up with his existence.

He seems to be getting on his last nerve, Leo notes at the greenish bruises on his midriff while changing clothes after bathing. He once again visited the birdpond even if his trip was a rather short one as Sho pulled him away when he (or rather whatever consciousness from his future self he had in his body) started hitting and scratching himself on the stomach.

Sitting down on his bed, he starts spending cream on the small wounds, he would hate to have any sort of scar.

“And you want to go back tomorrow after that?” Sho asks besides him, watching the reddish and purple splotches and thin red lines across his abdomen.

“Well, yeah, I want to see what number will be drawn on the influencer gala” he says, as nonchalant as ever, as if whatever damage he did to himself was nothing more than a light annoyance.

“You are crazy, dude”

“Hush, I'm learning a TikTok dance”

And as he said, that night as soon as Alan turned off his light they both sneaked off to the hedge maze centered around the birdpond.

“So, you remember what we are doing?”

“10 minutes in and I take you off. If you start hitting yourself I'm just allowed to hold you but not lift you”

“Good! If I see one more bruise and it will be all your fault, m'kay?”

“Hey, no, wait-!” But before he is able to complain he already dipped his head underwater.

Already used to the ache inside his lungs and the feeling of drowning, it doesn't take him much longer to settle on the current situation.

There is a colorful movie playing on the 65 inches mounted tv and he feels a comfortable weight on his lap. When he looks down he sees your head on his chest and legs thrown over his own, most of the weight must be from the sleeping toddler on your legs. A string of spit threatening to spill on his leg makes Leo recoil away violently, almost making you fall off the sofa and your daughter too.

Now awake and in a bad mood Emmy pouts and kicks her little legs “Daddy!” she waddles towards him so he would pick her up and lull her to sleep as always.

With the same coldness as you remember his first year version having, he spits venom at the, honestly quite messy, child “Don't even touch me, you have spit and sugar all over yourself, you are going to mess my clothes” and he barricades himself inside the bathroom, leaving you to calm down an upset toddler.

Hidden away inside the bathroom, he sits down on the bathtub rim and swipes around his phone, looking at his TikTok account and looking for videos that are around 10 years old. For once he curses being so active in social media as when he reaches his current year Sho was pulling him up to the past.

“So? Anything good?”

“Hardly anything and her kid almost slobbers all over me”

“I think that is also your child, dude”

‘stupid child’ Adult Leo growls mentally. Each and every time his past himself would rudely interrupt in his few soft domestic hours he has with his family and treat them like shit his head would be splitting down the middle with an unbearable headache, no matter what he took or if he drank water he would have to sit down for hours until it passed. Luckily his wife and daughter would comfort him while they watched tv with very low volume.

Wobbling out of the bathroom and aiming for the modular sofa he whines for any scrap of affection he believes he is entitled to “LI, Emmy, let's watch a movie, daddy doesn't feel good”

Plopping down on ‘his’ side of the sofa he just noticed Emmy was too busy getting calmed down to watch a movie with her dad.

“What happened, Emmy? Want to tell me while we watch Cinderella?” and even after attempting to bribe her with her favorite movie she just looks the other way with a pout before stomping towards her room, slamming the door.

Noticing your husband was back you smile, a part in relief of not having to take care of your toddler alone and another part of mocking delight “Emilia is very angry at you because your past self told her you weren't going to carry her because she was dirty and was going to mess your clothes”

Mortified, Leo grasps his forehead, he doesn't remember himself as one to be that mean to kids. When he feels you sit next to him and hug his shoulder he starts acting for affection and attention.

“That stupid brat is going to make my baby hate me”

“honey, that brat is you”

The attempt at reasoning with him is met with more whining. After years of marriage he learned that there wasn't anything he couldn't get from you with enough whining “my head hurts” he digs himself a space on your clavicle “I just want to sit down and enjoy myself with my family but now I can't even do that”

Combing some fly away hairs and planting a kiss on his helix honeyed words lure him closer “Emmy might not want to be close to you now but why don't we have some personal time together”

And with a devilish smile his hands dip down your back and butt while his mouth attached itself to whatever patch of skin he can get close to.

Family vlogs are something Leo found himself doing weekly, complying with his fans' demands. There is rarely anything interesting, sometimes doctor's visits, minor sickness, projects he had to say nothing about yet still hype, that sort of day to day things.

After going over a possible trip to Spain for a gaming convention he was invited to, Leo looks over the most frequent questions of the last vlog. He is so thankful that he coded a bot to group comments with the same or similar key words.

“So, for the last question… YN they are asking if you were hungry when we filmed the last video, they say you were scrolling UberEATS for a while”

You shrug while playing with your phone, not paying him much mind “well, when I was pregnant with Emmy I was pretty hungry, it is normal that I would be now too���

It is hardly one second before his usual fake smile dropped, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. In an attempt to turn off the video his hands fiddle with the button but it takes a few extra seconds than he expected. It is going to look awkward when he uploads it but why act as if he has ever cared about it and more so especially now?

The last few seconds it's possible to hear an ‘are you serious?’

His fans did go wild in the comment section after he posted

Leo_simp76: damn, he is locked down for real, let's cry simps

User_8274849: He already had a kid and is married, did you truly think he was free???

Leo_simp76: I would delulu into thinking he got babytrapped and was going to leave her!!

T.B.d.e: wasn't his child's first birthday one week ago?? How did she let him hit it?

Leo_simp76: I would let him as soon as I could stand. If anything it's weird it took that long!!

The last day before he took a break from looking into the future,as soon as he dips his head down to the water the usual annoyance in his lungs is overpowered by a different kind of ache caused by breathlessness like in Gym class.

“Leo, stop teasing~” a breathy moan begs from beneath him. Looking down he finds his hand snug against the column of your neck, lips connected to your skin just below your collarbone.

You were splayed under him, legs hugging his hips and one arm drawing figures on his biceps. Bodies close enough to notice your swollen stomach against his abdomen. Thankfully enough you had your eyes closed shut and couldn't notice the switch.

He on a technical level guessed this future version of himself and you fucked (as awkward as that image is for him) there was Emilia, or Emmy, that looked very much like him and you; when he snooped around he found condoms and there were multiple pregnancy tests in the en suite bathroom. But he had never barged in during the act.

Such a great fucking time he gets in, balls deep inside the nerd and an orgasm threatening to wreck him. Or so he would think if a wave of dopamine didn't swallow him whole in the same breath.

Quickly he leaves the water, if Sho had to say he almost looked horrified, eyes wide, breathing quickly, face red and… oh, he was just suddenly horny. Any teasing he might have wanted to do is cut short with Leo's nasty side eye but no explanations.

On the other side of the timeline there is a married couple with a sulking husband.

“Are you feeling alright?” opening your eyes you manage to see a very clearly upset Leo resting his forehead against your sternum and a hand on your breast.

“I can't even have sex with my wife without that brat ruining it”

“What? He was here just now?!”

“Once again, I didn't get to enjoy it”

“Wait a second! I'm still sensitive! ~~!”

[bosbas]

Chapter 3: they say looks can kill and I might try

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, a small part of the dialogue is in French, Colin being mean, reader being mean, perhaps some historical inaccuracies (idk if the royal opera house was actually called that in 1816 IM SORRY)

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

April 23, 1816 – It seems Lady Violet Bridgerton and Lady Catherine Montclair have become fast friends. This author, ever intrigued by the comings and goings of the Montclairs in London's high society, cannot help but ponder: Is there a union on the horizon? Does the blossoming friendship between Lady Montclair and Lady Bridgerton hint at an impending marriage, or are they simply two kindred spirits enjoying each other's company, with no matrimonial plans for their children?

Your mother had taken quite a liking to Lady Bridgerton. In truth, you mostly didn’t mind. Contrary to what Lady Whistledown was telling the ton, your mother wasn’t particularly interested in marrying you off to a Bridgerton. In fact, the only time she wasn’t trying to marry you off was when she was with Lady Bridgerton. It was a breath of fresh air, to say the least.

Benedict was lovely, as was Eloise. The trouble, as always, came in the form of Colin Bridgerton. Typical.

Since your mother’s newfound friendship with Lady Violet, you found yourself thrust into Colin Bridgerton's company at every event. It was ghastly. Even being near him had your heart rate speeding up. You had to make a conscious effort not to grind your teeth and clench your fists every time he spoke. 

You weren’t quite sure when it happened, but it seemed that Colin Bridgerton had abandoned all pretense of gentlemanly conduct and settled for matching your disdain. You couldn’t say you were surprised. It was exactly what you expected of him, after all.

Tonight had been particularly taxing. Anthony Bridgerton was hosting a ball, which meant that your mother had strong-armed you into spending the entire night with the Bridgertons—when you weren’t with Lord Barlow, that is. You hadn’t minded much at the beginning, enjoying the respite from your mother practically auctioning you off for a dance now that you were courting the Duke. 

Yet, Colin seemed to have made it his singular mission to vex you constantly. Sly glances and biting remarks had escalated to a glass of water “inexplicably” pouring down the front of your dress. Thankfully, the dark blue of your gown successfully camouflaged any stain, but your patience was wearing perilously thin.

To be fair, you had insulted his intelligence, unprovoked, about three or four times before he spilled the glass of water on you. And not-so-subtly called him a “sale enfoiré” (dirty bastard). But still, he was infuriating, and he had been equally as bad all night. 

Currently, you were standing side by side, a simmering tension palpable in the air between you. A fragile truce had been brokered by the stern words of your elder sister, Charlotte, but the desire to spark an argument with Colin was ever-present.

He crossed his arms, and you couldn’t help but be acutely aware of his shoulder touching yours. The closeness of his touch sent a jolt through you, an unwelcome sensation that only added to your mounting frustration.

Colin Bridgerton was not the sort of man you liked, let alone respected, you reminded yourself. You were not particularly interested in engaging with a man who viewed you as merely a dowry with a womb. 

And yet, you couldn’t help yourself. At every chance you got, you couldn’t resist the urge to show him just how much you disliked him. You might have been embarrassed by your childish actions if he weren’t also an instigator.  

“You’ve only danced with the Duke once tonight, Lady Montclair” he commented, his tone dripping with a hint of mockery as he kept his gaze fixed elsewhere. “Has he bored you already with his talk about his family’s estate? Or is that exactly what you’re after?”

You held back a groan. He was particularly relentless tonight, wasn’t he?

“I can assure you, Mr. Bridgerton, the Duke and I engage in far more stimulating conversations than you might imagine,” you retorted, a flash of defiance in your eyes. “Certainly more engaging than your exchange with Miss Abernathy, I'd venture to say. Although her substantial dowry must have held some interest for you, I presume?”

“We were talking about my travels to India, if you must know,” he drawled, the challenge evident in his tone. “Not that you and the Duke would have much to speak about in that regard, given he’s never been.”

You scoffed. “I should hope I would be able to talk about it, Mr. Bridgerton; I spent three years living in India.”

Colin huffed, annoyed that he had forgotten that small detail. It took everything in you not to turn and face him right then, wanting to bask in the fact that you had bested him yet again. 

“Well, I fear the Duke would have been bored regardless. Look at him now, speaking with Miss Barrington. He certainly did not look that entertained when speaking with you.”

You glanced over at Lord Barlow. It was true, he was smiling at something Miss Barrington had said, but it wasn’t like he never smiled around you. You knew Colin was just winding you up, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I see he's asked her to dance. Do you think he'll ask you for another, or has he had enough of you for tonight?”

Your fists clenched. The snide looks and snarky comments and even the water on your dress you could deal with. But you knew that you had to marry to secure your future, and Colin's thinly veiled jabs struck a nerve.

You turned to look at him slightly, finding his gaze still on your suitor across the ballroom. Perfect. You shifted closer to him, momentarily taken aback by the intense sound of your heartbeat in your ears. But you ignored it, much like you ignored his sharp inhale as you moved closer. 

With a deliberate motion, you lifted your foot and brought it down on top of his with as much strength as you could muster. The impact was immediate, a sharp jolt of pain shooting through Colin as he fought to stifle a cry.

He staggered forward, lifting his injured foot off the ground and feeling the throbbing of his toes he knew would last for days. Colin’s eyes watered with the effort of standing up, and you could do nothing but smile.

Oh, how he wished to wipe that triumphant expression from your face. He probably deserved your wrath at this point, given his behavior, but dear Lord did you have to make it so painful?

Gingerly, he lowered his injured foot to the ground, his breath catching in a subdued groan as he sought to regain his balance amidst the lingering ache.

“Lady Montclair, I’m sure you’ll excuse me,” Colin managed through gritted teeth, the pain in his foot now a throbbing ache. “I believe I must go tend to my foot, which has been inexplicably injured,” he finished weakly.

You cooed at him, mock concern in your voice. “Oh, Mr. Bridgerton, how dreadful! Pray do take care of yourself. We wouldn't want any lasting damage, now would we?”

He shot a glower in your direction, his eyes practically sparking with irritation as he searched for the nearest exit so he could return to the comfort of the Bridgerton carriage.

“If my toes are broken you’ll never hear the end of it,” he threatened. 

“Let us all hope the injury is not so grave, then,” you replied smugly, not the slightest bit bothered that he was in pain. 

And as much as you were infuriating and annoying and even slightly murderous, Colin found himself sad to be leaving your side. Even as he limped toward the exit, he missed your presence beside him. He probably just enjoyed a rivalry with someone who wasn’t related to him, he reasoned. It kept his mind sharp and his days entertaining. No other reason.

---

May 2, 1816 – Though the dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton and Countess Catherine Montclair remain friends, the hope for a union between the two families might be fading, if it was ever present. Lady Y/N Montclair has been spending quite a bit of time with Lord Arthur Barlow, and even this author knows a Duke is a better match than a Bridgerton, highly esteemed as their family might be.

Today was one of the rare occasions where you could simply enjoy yourself. The Duke and Duchess of Hastings were hosting an intimate garden party, and Lord Barlow was not in attendance. Although you were a tad disappointed, given that the two of you got along quite well, it did mean you could take a break from the pursuit of a husband for one afternoon. 

Which is why you were sitting next to Eloise, gently rocking Caroline Basset to sleep as you discussed your marriage prospects. 

“Your parents really delayed your coming out so you could marry an Englishman?” Eloise asked, shocked. “What could compel them to be so cruel toward you? The men of the ton are not the sort to write home about, I can assure you.”

You laughed, amused by Eloise’s aversion to marriage. Well, aversion to marriage in the way that you knew it to be. She was so refreshing to speak with: Eloise had rejected two marriage proposals already simply because she didn’t like her suitors. Truthfully it was not something you had previously thought was possible.  

“The Duke is not so bad that I would dread marrying him!” you giggled. “And he is fairly handsome, too.”

“The best of a bad bunch, it seems,” teased Eloise, sensing the beginnings of fondness in your voice.

How on earth was Colin related to her? Or any of the Bridgertons, really? Eloise was lovely, and it remained a mystery how she and Colin could share any parentage at all.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Daphne and Simon, who stood in the garden and tapped on a glass to address their guests. Not wanting baby Caroline to wake up, you stood up carefully and made your way across the garden to the nurses. 

“And we also have some news to share,” Daphne announced excitedly.

You turned around to face the Duchess after successfully handing Caroline off to a nurse and groaned involuntarily as you saw Colin already standing next to you. Unfortunately, it was far too late to move without causing a commotion, and you did not hate Colin so much as to disrespect Daphne to avoid him. 

Your peaceful, somewhat liberating afternoon came crashing down five seconds after being in Colin Bridgerton’s presence. You were instantly irritated by everything about him. Irritated by his signet ring glinting in the sunlight, by his windblown hair landing perfectly on his face, and by his small smile toward you when he saw you standing next to him, 

Most of all, you were irritated with yourself for noticing every little detail about him. You were trying to listen to Daphne, but his breathing was so loud, so close to your ear that you found it impossible. It was ridiculous, you knew. And you also knew it was only irritating you because you hated him. But it didn’t stop you from absolutely loathing the way Colin Bridgerton breathed. 

You felt anger rising in your chest as more time went on, his chest rising and falling evenly, and the words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. 

“Stop breathing. I’m trying to listen to your sister,” you hissed. 

“Stop breathing?” he whispered back, incredulous. “Do you suggest I stop entirely and fall dead right at this very moment?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” you shot back.

“It would certainly be on your conscience, then. Or perhaps you don’t have one. I wouldn’t be surprised,” he whispered back angrily.

And then suddenly, everyone was clapping and cheering, and neither of you had any idea what for. You looked around dumbly, trying to figure out what exactly had been said while mentally berating yourself for picking a fight with Colin, who also seemed confused by all the commotion.

Gregory walked up to Colin, clapping him on the back and punching him on the arm. 

“We’re going to be uncles once again! D’you reckon I’ll be the godfather this time around?”

“Not a chance,” Colin responded jovially, having realized that Daphne had announced a pregnancy.

Gregory moaned in disappointment and walked away to speak with Simon, surely to convince him of his candidacy as a godfather, but Colin turned to you, a raging fire in his eyes. 

“You couldn’t have waited ten more seconds before asking me to 'stop breathing'?” he all but spat.

You cringed, feeling a twinge of guilt in the pit of your stomach as you watched Colin walk away to speak with his sister. You deserved his wrath just this once. Perhaps you’d take the day off from antagonizing him, more for Daphne’s sake than anything else.

---

May 11, 1816 – Siena Rosso, esteemed opera singer and previously a regular performer at the Royal Opera House, has returned to Mayfair after two years away. This author has learned that the Montclairs have been invited to watch from Lady Danbury’s box…

You rubbed your eyes and sighed deeply, already dreading the three-hour-long opera ahead of you as you watched Siena Rosso emerge and begin singing. 

Your mother turned around in her seat with a frown, leaning over to you. “Y/N,” she scolded softly. “Ce n'est pas digne d'une dame.” (That’s unladylike)

You rolled your eyes once she turned around again. Usually, you were not opposed to going to the opera, finding the story compelling and the music beautiful, but tonight all you were looking forward to were the closing curtains. 

Lady Whistledown had failed to mention that the Bridgertons would be in Lady Danbury’s box tonight, too, and you were upset that you would have to spend the evening sitting next to Colin. Of course, Louis had gotten out of coming tonight, as had Benedict, and you simply assumed Colin would do the same. But no, he had shown up looking disconcertingly good and sat right next to you. 

On top of being forced to spend the evening alongside your least favorite member of the ton, you were completely exhausted. Having come to terms with the reality that you would probably be engaged to be married in a few weeks, you had been unable to sleep and opted to go to your spot in the garden to look at the stars instead. Although it had been soothing, seeing the twinkling lights and being reminded of every version of you who had looked up at these same stars, you were now bone-tired and fighting off sleep. 

You couldn’t even muster the energy to spite Colin in some form or another. All your energy was focused on staying awake and fighting against your eyelids as they periodically shuttered closed. 

You had been hoping that, if anything, sitting next to Colin and inevitably trading insults with him would keep you awake, but he was being uncharacteristically mellow tonight. And you were nothing if not suspicious. In the time you had known him, he had always attempted at least one conversation-turned-argument within five minutes of seeing you. 

Whatever the reason for his silence was, you were grateful. Perhaps his streak of combativeness was coming to an end and you could go back to silently loathing him. You hoped so. It had certainly been easier that way.

It would have been easier if you didn’t hate him at all, actually. And sometimes you did wish you could set aside your contempt toward each other and at least be civil. But then you remembered the biting words you heard in Lady Danbury’s hallway.

They were etched into your memory, replaying in your mind when you saw Colin being particularly sweet to one of his nieces or laughing with his brothers and you were tempted to forget the reason you hated him in the first place. 

…I suppose it depends on her dowry. The larger the dowry the more I’m willing to overlook… I’m sure you could get away with anything with any of these girls, though I suggest picking one that’s got good hips.

Even just remembering the words made you want to strangle Colin. Colin Bridgerton and Nigel Berbrooke clearly had no respect for you and saw your worth as directly proportional to your dowry, so why should you have any respect for them?

Quite interestingly, you had not seen Nigel since that fateful night. But you didn’t dwell on it too much. Dealing with one of them was already more than enough for you.

Siena’s aria ended, and you realized you had not been paying attention in the slightest. However, you were not as bothered as you would usually be by your lack of attention. The music had become softer and lower, and you could hardly keep your eyes open. It wouldn’t hurt to close them for a short while, right? Siena wasn’t even performing, and you were sitting behind your mother, free from her prying eyes.

An hour later, Colin turned to look at you, sleeping peacefully, for what might have been the four-hundredth time. Your hand was supporting your head, your lips parted softly as you breathed deeply, and he just stared.

He had seen you laughing and smiling around other people, but this was the first time he had been so close to you without you glaring or frowning at him, and it was far more important to him than anything happening onstage. 

In a few moments, you would wake up and remind him exactly why he disliked you, but for now, he could just enjoy this moment of peace.

A soft snore left your lips, and Colin nervously glanced toward your mother, hoping she hadn’t heard. He knew the countess would be upset if she realized her daughter was asleep at the opera, and he prayed your snore had been an isolated incident.

But to no avail; you let out another snore, slightly louder than the last, and Colin tensed. Your mother, along with his, seemed too enthralled in the opera to notice yet, but he suspected the snoring would only get worse.

Logically, Colin knew he had to do something. As much as he hated you– or rather hated that you hated him– he knew it would be cruel to let you face your mother’s wrath when you were clearly exhausted. But he couldn’t very well start being nice to you right now, after weeks of feuding. 

He was far too proud to admit it to anyone, but you had gotten to him. You brought out the worst in him. Or maybe he brought out the worst in himself, and you were only there to see it. He felt slightly guilty at how aggressively he reacted at Daphne’s garden party, not to mention every other time he had made a disparaging comment about you. But the guilt quickly evaporated every time you replied with an equally disparaging comment.

After a moment, and another snore, Colin settled for reaching over and pinching your bicep to wake you up. You startled awake, almost yelping in pain and looking around in confusion. 

Fully awake now, your eyes narrowed as you saw Colin smirking at you, his hand near your arm giving you a very clear idea of who had woken you up. 

“Good morning, Lady Montclair. It’s nice of you to join us. There’s an opera happening at the minute, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he said sarcastically.

You clenched your fists, eyes glancing at your mother as she dabbed at her eyes after what Colin could only imagine was a very emotional aria. After a deep breath, you crossed your arms and slumped back in your seat, defeated.

“Like you’re any better. I doubt you’ve paid attention at the opera a single time in your life,” you finally whispered back, stifling a yawn.

As you sat glowering, Colin thought that it might be impossible for the two of you to be in a room without arguing. However, at least Colin had made sure that you had plenty of reasons to hate him. He might not have known why you disliked him at first, but he certainly knew now, and that was a far better feeling than wondering what he did wrong.

—

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[therealdesastrffxiv]

I submitted a suggestion to FFXIV Forums

HERE IT IS:

"I adore FFXIV, but one of the things in this game that is extremely grating is the how alt-unfriendly it is.

I realize people use the excuse of 'we can use all jobs on one character', but that honestly does not appeal to me in the slightest. Most jobs do not work for my character, who I write stories about and roleplay. This same situation applies to most glams, pets, and mounts.

The ironic thing is, I would do far, far more in this game if only it were more alt friendly. I would likely actually try to dive into more extreme PvE content, but as it stands now, it simply is not worth it. A lot of content just does not fit for this character, yet she is meant to remain my main, and I want to do the content on her.

I do not have enough time or want to level up and get through the story on every single alt I want to write a story about, and to have to grind everything out a second time, it makes collecting in this game for people like me pointless.

Therefore, I propose an idea: All mounts should be shared. All hairstyles should be shared. All minions should be shared. In the case of glams, might I suggest a special storage chest that is account bound, allowing you to swap glams to your alt? Quite like 'transmog collections' in other games (and mounts/pets being shared in general).

If the above is considered unreasonable - I think it is fair to at least say we could farm everything multiple times, BUT on a main which then could provide the item to the alt.

Example: A glam drops, you can only use it on one character, but you can transfer it to a different character even if it doesn't apply to the one you got it on.

Example 2: I get a mount drop on this character, don't really want it on this one, put it in my chest to give it to an alt.

Example 3: I have a mount collected already, but get another drop, so transfer it to a different character.

Example 3 would also encourage people to farm even more, because there would be a point to getting multiple drops, as we'd be able to give them to alts.

Please at least consider something like an account bound chest, thank you!"

THOSE WHO WANT ALT FRIENDLINESS IN THE GAME - We'd have to bring it up on the forums, or get the word out there more via Twitter. I use the hashtag #altfriendlyxiv or #altfriendlyffxiv.

Something as simple as being able to mail alts & all shop items being account bound rather than just the non-holiday mounts would be great, in the very least. (Aside from the boosts, obviously.)

The suggestion I had someone leave on the forums is linked here.

[vanillablankcanvas]

Part 6 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10

Trolls - having an egg on the way is known as an 'Eggnancy" 😂

BroZone - when the brothers weren't sure how to reconnect, they ended up playing rummy together.

Bruce - has attempted to set up John Dory on a date with Brandy's sister.

Bruce - kept having kids because he and Brandy wanted at least one daughter. When they finally had LaBreezy they decided to stop.

Bruce - learned to surf to get Brandy's attention when they first met. Ended up falling in love with surfing before Brandy fell for him. 😁

Clay - the Putt-Putt Trolls didn't have a sad book club as they had no books! After the reunion Clay was very excited about the vast new collection of books he could get his hands on!

Clay - finds out that he was Poppy's favourite Brozone member when she was little and doesn't he just boast about it any chance he gets!

Clay - for Clay to finally forgive John Dory, JD agreed to perform for the brothers+Poppy and Viva in ONLY the funderdrawers. "Do you feel like you're having 76% more fun yet John? Cause I am!" *Camera snap*

John Dory - he doesn't let it show but his ears are constantly twitching to check for danger, a side effect of living in the wilderness alone for so long.

John Dory - sworn off ever having children.

John Dory - pretty scrappy at self defence, can hold his own when boxing.

Floyd - did a few red carpet appearances during his solo era, he felt very out of place. @ssippingwaterfalls 💕

Floyd - after the Mount Rageous incident he gets a little bit reckless without realizing it. He has an "I just survived death so cliff jumping isn't scary anymore' kinda attitude.

Floyd - can read palms and tarot cards.

Branch - Kismet were the ones that originally got him hooked on ring pops.

Branch - learns phrases in other languages to build relationships with subgenre tribes of Trolls. E.g the K-Pop and Reggaeton Trolls.

Branch - started building the bunker while he was still living in the group home with other Trollings.

Poppy - wishes that Branch would initiate physical contact more often.

Viva - calls the older brothers Mr.Bruce and Mr.JD (Clay told her to)

Rhonda - when she was a baby she was more like a big suitcase than a vehicle.

Bonus

Cooper - is actually smarter and more capable than he let's on (quote from Brooklyn 99, "If people knew how smart I was it would be harder to control them.")

[yanderes-galore]

Aemond vs Lucerys hcs? Romantic (assuming this is enough info-)

Oh dear... sorry if things seem OOC, here you go! I'm still new to writing ASOIAF. Please take note of trigger warnings, this is ASOIAF after all.

I'm an Aemond fan and prefer him but I put this man through hell in this.

Yandere! Aemond Targaryen vs Lucerys Velaryon

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Canon divergent time-line where Lucerys isn't dead (Dance is either postponed or doesn't happen), Obsession, Violence, Manipulation, Threats, Betrothal, Age Gap Aemond (I think he'd be like 25/26 in this if you and Lucerys are about 18/19), Medieval relationship dynamic (Although you aren't implied to be Targaryen), Swearing, Possessive behavior, Forced affection (From Aemond), Mature themes, Attempted murder/Dueling, Kidnapping mention, Dark themes and unhealthy dynamics, Dubious relationships.

A rivalry such as this is definitely volatile.

The two have an evident history with each other ever since they were young.

After all, Lucerys took Aemond's eye.

Ever since then the two haven't gotten along.

They most likely never will due to their different sides and past.

You throw in betrothal? You're asking for fights.

Imagine if Lucerys and you are betrothed as ordered by Rhaenyra.

Despite this, Aemond still finds himself fond of you.

Probably has for years.

You've always been adorable to him, yet it angers him that you've been betrothed to the bastard or took his eye.

Lucerys just seems to take everything from him.

It doesn't help that you may also be fond of Lucerys, you aren't marrying him just for duty, but also because of your own feelings.

Aemond has admittedly thought of ways to cancel your betrothal.

He has often asked his mother Alicent to convince Rhaenyra of changing things.

Yet nothing comes of it as both you and Lucerys seem happy.

Which causes Aemond to seethe.

Lucerys is no doubt aware of Aemond's fondness towards you.

It's hard to ignore when the Targaryen's peering eye lingers on you.

Lucerys no doubt dislikes the thought of Aemond trying to separate you both.

Lucerys does not wish to fight his uncle, especially over you.

To Lucerys, the betrothal is final.

You want this, he wants this, that's how it should be.

Yet Lucerys still has to deal with Aemond courting you right up until wedding day.

He's laying the charm on thick, trying his best to make you rethink your agreement with Lucerys.

Lucerys doesn't let Aemond's words sway you.

Your fiancé always manages to catch Aemond trying to court you, pinning you to a wall to try and seduce you.

This always ends in a fight, Lucerys telling off Aemond to stop his advances.

But both of their obsessions only seem to grow.

There's a good chance even after the wedding is official Aemond may just crash it.

That or try to force a conflict between Lucerys, perhaps even suggesting a duel for your hand.

Both men are quite possessive of you and the idea of marrying you.

Even to the point of threats and violence.

Want to make this even worse?

Bring the dragons into it.

Vhagar can sense Aemond's distress towards being unable to have you.

His draconic mount often ends up hearing his complaints when she rests.

Arrax notices the irritation of his own rider towards Aemond's courting.

The dragon often tries to encourage his rider to keep fighting for you.

But it appears their feud just keep sparking up flames.

There's many ways this could end.

One of them kills the other... Aemond kidnaps you... etc...

The two dragons think their riders will resolve this on their own.

But it seems their rivalry will only end in fire and blood.

By the end of it only time will tell who actually gets your hand in marriage.

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 41)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap,

Once Cillian and Amanda settled down in the living room with a glass of wine each, Amanda asked what it was that made him upset. The fact that he had invited her in after all she did was surprising to her and she knew that there must have been something that was troubling him.  She watched him as he sat down on the couch, his shoulders slouched and his eyes distant as he took a long sip of his wine.

"Cillian, is everything okay?" Amanda asked tentatively, not wanting to intrude but still feeling concerned for him.

Cillian let out a deep sigh before finally speaking. "No, it's not. But, it doesn't matter, really,"  Cillian replied, his voice laced with a hint of sadness and disappointment.

"What happened?" Amanda asked, concerned and confused about the sadness in his eyes, which she hadn't seen before.

"I proposed to Y/N tonight, but she said no," Cillian admitted, his voice somber and tinged with disappointment. "Well, she didn't say yes, you know. She just said she needed time,"  Cillian added, trying to lighten the mood, but Amanda could tell that he was deeply hurt by your refusal.

"Why did she say no?" Amanda asked, genuinely curious about the situation and trying to understand why Y/N would refuse such a proposal.

"She said she wasn't ready for it yet. And I get that, I really do. But, I guess we are just on different wavelengths sometimes and I don't actually think that she wants to be with me as much as I want to be with her, which is really fucking difficult for me to deal with," Cillian  continued, looking down at his wine glass with a mixture of sadness and frustration.

"I'm sorry," Amanda said, her voice soft and sympathetic as she reached out to take his hand in hers.

Cillian looked up at her and gave a small smile before nodding. "Yeah, it is. But, what can you do, right? I love her, and I just have to keep going and hope that she comes around eventually."

"Cillian, this might sound harsh, but you do realize that she is very young still.  She probably just wants to experience life a little more before settling down, don't you think?" Amanda asked, squeezing Cillian's hand reassuringly.

"I know, I know. But the thing is, I'm not getting any younger. And I don't want to wait around for her to be ready. I want to start a life with her now," Cillian replied, his voice tinged with frustration.

"You can't force her to be with you though and I am not saying that this is what you are doing, but perhaps she feels a little overwhelmed by it all. She just a baby too and this can really be hard on a young woman like her," Amanda tried to reassure him, but it only made Cillian feel more frustrated.

"I'm not trying to force her. She just wants to take it slow and that's perfectly fine, I get that. I love her, and I want her to be happy. But at the same time, I just want her to show some kind of commitment," Cillian admitted, as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "She doesn't want to go to these fucking Award shows with me in a few weeks' time, making excuses and I honestly feel that it is because of the age difference between us. Maybe she is embarrassed or maybe she is reevaluating her life choices. I don't fucking know,"  Cillian said, his frustration mounting as he took a deep breath and downed the rest of his wine.

Amanda listened intently, feeling a strange sense of understanding towards you while, at the same time, seeing an opportunity here for herself, to get what she wanted. 

"She's a silly girl then, Cillian. Most women I know would give anything for an opportunity to be by your site," she thus said carefully and with a gentle voice while Cillian topped up his wineglass, filling to the brim. 

"Maybe you are right. Maybe she is simply too young," Cillian said, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "Or maybe she is just too afraid to tell me that she would much rather be with someone in their twenties, instead of someone who is pushing fifty. It would make fucking sense you know."

Amanda sighed nervously before responding. "I am sorry to say but, yes, it does make sense . I mean, I'm not saying that you are old or anything, Cillian, but she is much younger than you and she might fear the social stigma that comes with being in a relationship with an older man. It's not uncommon," Amanda explained, trying to soften the blow of her words.

"But then again, she is clearly blind if she  can't see what an amazing man you are," Amanda added, squeezing Cillian's hand reassuringly.

Cillian looked at her, a mixture of sadness and gratitude in his eyes. "Thanks, Am," he said softly.

"What are you thanking me for?" Amanda asked, genuinely puzzled.

"For listening to me rambling on about this," Cillian said, his voice barely above a whisper while Amanda caressed his hand and he did not pull away, his mind slightly hazy from how quickly he had consumed the wine. 

She smiled, before leaning closer to him and whispered in his ear: "I could do a lot more than that for you. In fact, I reckon I can make you forget all about her." 

Cillian looked at her, his eyes narrowing in confusion before Amanda reached up, taking his face in her hands.

Her lips then met his in a soft, slow kiss, a shock rippling through him as he let her continue. It felt wrong, and yet, for some reason, the kiss alone caused him to feel a stirring in his groin that he hadn't expected.

This was the woman who had spiked his drink, almost destroyed his relationship with you and still held feelings for him, but in that moment, none of it mattered. The taste of her lips pressing against his and the way her fingers were gently caressing his cheek, it was all just too much to ignore.

Cillian's breath hitched as he felt her tongue trace along the seam of his lips, asking for permission to enter.

He hesitated for a moment, his thoughts consumed by the guilt of what he was about to do. But when Amanda pulled back, looked at him with those big, pleading eyes and whispered his name again, he was lost.

Without a second thought, Cillian parted his lips and met her tongue with his own in a passionate, all-consuming kiss. He could feel the warmth of her body pressed against his, the softness of her breasts against his chest, and the way she moaned gently as he deepened the kiss.

"Am, we can't," Cillian whispered, his voice hoarse. He had never thought he would find himself in this situation, kissing his ex-girlfriend while in a relationship with someone else. 

Amanda pulled back from the kiss, her eyes sparkling with desire as she looked up at him. "Do you want me, Cillian?" she asked, her voice low and sultry.

Cillian hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Yes. Yes, I want you," he admitted, his voice laced with guilt and desire.

Amanda smiled, her eyes sparkling with pleasure as she stood up, pulling Cillian up with her.

"Come on then," she said, leading him upstairs to his bedroom .

As they walked, Cillian couldn't help but feel a sense of shame and guilt wash over him. He knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't resist the pull Amanda had on him in that moment. 

When they reached his bedroom, Amanda turned to him, her eyes smoldering with desire as she stepped closer to him, pressing herself against him. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair as she kissed him deeply.

Her hand then moved straight to his crotch , and she could feel the hardness that begged to be released from the confines of his jeans.

"Fuck, Amanda," Cillian groaned as she squeezed him firmly, her touch sending ripples of pleasure straight through him.

With deft fingers, Amanda unbuckled his belt, undoing the buttons of his jeans before slowly pulling down the zipper.

She reached in, wrapping her hand around his cock, feeling him twitch and jerk in her hand.

"Bend over the bed ," Cillian growled, his voice low and husky as he pushed Amanda gently towards the bed.

Amanda obeyed, bending over the edge of the bed and looking back at him with a sultry look in her eyes.

Cillian didn't hesitate, pulling her pants down to her thighs and exposing her bare ass. He could see the glistening wetness between her legs and knew that she was ready for him.

He reached forward, running his hand over her ass before parting her thighs further.

" You're soaked," he groaned, his voice filled with lust as he pressed a finger against her opening, feeling her wetness coat his fingers.

Amanda moaned, pushing back against him as she felt his finger slip inside of her.

"Cillian, please," she begged, her voice low and needy. "I really need your cock inside of me right now."

Cillian didn't need to be told twice. He stepped forward, lining himself up with her wetness before thrusting into her with one deep, firm stroke. Amanda cried out, her body tensing as she took him inside her.

Cillian gripped her hips, pulling back before driving into her again and again, harder and faster. Amanda pushed back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke as she moaned and gasped, begging for more.

"Cillian, harder," she panted, her voice thick with desire. "Fuck me harder."

Cillian obliged, his hips pounding against her as he gripped her hips, holding her in place. He could feel every inch of her tight pussy wrapped around him, could feel the way it gripped him and pulsed around him, milking him for every inch.

He could feel the tension building inside of him, the tightness in his balls and the tingling heat at the base of his spine.

Amanda was moaning, her cries of pleasure getting louder as she begged for more.

"Fuck, Cillian, harder," she screamed, pushing back against him as he slammed his cock into her.

He could feel his orgasm building, the tightness in his balls getting stronger as he pounded into her. He could feel every inch of her pussy, gripping him so tightly that he could barely move.

"Come for me.

I want to feel you milk my cock," Cillian grunted, his thrusts getting more erratic and his pace quickening.

Amanda cried out, her body shaking as she felt her orgasm tearing through her, making her pussy clench around Cillian's cock. She could feel the warmth spreading through her, making her legs shake and her whole body tremble.

Cillian could feel it too. He could feel Amanda's pussy contracting around his cock, and it was almost too much.

With one final, powerful thrust, Cillian came hard, his seed spilling deep inside of her as he groaned loudly, his body shuddering with pleasure.

They stayed there for a moment, panting and gasping as they tried to catch their breath. Cillian's legs were trembling, and he slowly pulled out of Amanda, watching as his cum ran down her thighs.

"Fuck," Cillian managed to say, his voice low with instant regret.

He quickly pulled up his pants, while Amanda slowly turned around and sat on the edge of the bed, visibly shaken by the suddenness of the situation.

"I'm sorry," Cillian said, his voice filled with shame and guilt. "I shouldn't have done that."

Amanda looked away, her eyes avoiding his. "No, it's fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

But it clearly wasn't fine. There was an awkward tension between them now, a tension that hadn't been there before.

Cillian felt like a weight had settled on his chest, crushing him with the guilt and shame of what he had just done. He couldn't believe that he had cheated on you, the woman he loved. It had been a moment of weakness, a moment of pure sexual desire and lust, but that didn't make it any better.

Cillian looked over at Amanda, her eyes still avoid his as she sat there, a quiet but studdle smile playing on her face.

"It was just sex, Cillian," Amanda said quietly, looking up at him with a seductive smile. "Don't beat yourself up over it." Amanda's words were like a balm to Cillian's guilty conscience, but only for a moment. He knew that what he had done was wrong, and there was no sugar-coating it.

"Easy for you to say," Cillian said, snapping at her, before he turned away from her, trying to collect himself.

"Listen, I won't tell if you don't. She doesn't need to know about this," Amanda said before deciding that it was time for her to leave. "I should go,"  she added, standing up and pulling up her pants. "And I won't say a word about this to anyone."

Cillian nodded, still feeling the weight of guilt and shame crushing him. He watched as Amanda walked out of his bedroom, her hips swaying seductively as she left.

He let out a deep sigh and ran his hands through his hair, feeling a mix of emotions coursing through him. He loved you, but he couldn't deny the thrill he had just experienced with Amanda.

"You are so fucked," he muttered to himself, collapsing onto his bed.

He lay there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his guilt pressing down on him.

Cillian knew that what he had done was wrong. Cheating on you was something he had never thought he would do, and yet, here he was, feeling like a complete and utter bastard for doing just that.

As the night wore on, Amanda's words continued to play on his mind. "It was just sex, Cillian. Don't beat yourself up over it.

Amanda's words echoed in Cillian's mind, taunting him. He wanted to believe that it was just a moment of weakness, a slip-up that didn't mean anything. But the guilt he felt told him otherwise.

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[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter four

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

warning . . . tbd )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . the timeline of races to football season is going to be a bit whacked i'm not going to lie to you all, but i think i've settled on going for what works better for the plot rather than how it happens in real life, so turn a blind eye to that please <3 )

After that night in the hotel room, Y/N and Mason tried their best to return to normal, however even though Mason had apologized, and Y/N had forgiven him; the pair didn’t really know how to correctly navigate their friendship now everything was out in the open. Could they go back to how it was before? Mason didn’t think that was likely, even if they wanted to. For that exact reason, they had not spent time together just the two of them since coming home from Spain. There had been a group party that they had both attended and hung out together at, but spending time alone was something neither of them knew how to navigate so it was avoided. That was until it was unavoidable at least; with the season rapidly approaching, Mason started to need the assistance of his, well his assistant. 

Y/N was thankful to get the call from Mason saying he needed her help with organizing a charity event, she missed her best friend. Even when they had seen each other at the party, there were so many people there they didn’t get to spend much time together. She did feel some apprehension as to how well they would be able to work together after everything, but thankfully 5 minutes into the workday and things felt like everything was back to normal. The pair of them had always worked really well together, and when that remained it was clear just how much it meant to them both. 

A little while into arranging the event with Mason, Y/N received a text that made her stomach flutter.  

Max Verstappen  

Hey Y/N, A little bit last minute but I’m in London tonight, I’d love to see you.  

Y/N hadn’t heard from Max since she got back from Spain, she had assumed that whatever spark there was between them was destined to just fizzle out. The timing and circumstances couldn’t be worse after all. Yet as she looked down at her phone, she couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach. She had really liked Max when they spent time together during that weekend, and she did want to spend more time with him now. But it was complicated, her situation with Mason was complicated, the distance between her and Max was complicated. It seemed like everything was pointing towards that she should just ignore the message; apart from the fact that she really actually wanted to see him. 

. 

Nervously, Y/N hesitated. Her mind raced with thoughts about Mason, their evolving friendship, and the potential implications of seeing Max again. A part of her still harbored feelings for Mason, and the prospect of complicating things further left her in a state of uncertainty. But, after a brief internal struggle, she decided to go for it 

Fighting a hesitant smile, she typed a response. 

Y/N Y/L/N 

Hi, yeah I’m free tonight, would be great to see you. 

As she sent the message, a mix of excitement and anxiety flooded her. She couldn't deny the flutter in her stomach, but the prospect of seeing Max again also stirred a concoction of conflicting emotions. 

Meanwhile, Mason noticed Y/N engrossed in her phone, a subtle smile playing on her lips. He couldn't help but wonder who she was texting, and the hesitation to ask lingered. But, despite his curiosity, he opted to keep the question unspoken, allowing Y/N her moment of privacy. After his behaviour recently, he knew he needed to prove that he had changed and questioning her about who she was talking to would be the opposite of that.    

As they continued working on the charity event details, Mason couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N seemed a little distracted. Her mind, usually razor-focused on their tasks, appeared to be elsewhere. 

After they wrapped up their work, Mason, trying to lighten the mood, suggested a movie night. "Hey, want to do a movie night tonight?" he asked, a hint of anticipation in his voice. 

Y/N's response, however, caught him off guard. "I'd like to, but I'm busy tonight," she replied, avoiding eye contact. 

Mason's enthusiasm deflated, and he simply responded with a dejected, "Oh, okay." His assumption that she was dodging spending time with him sunk in, and a subtle disappointment clouded his expression. 

Noticing Mason's reaction, Y/N realized he misunderstood. She hesitated for a moment before deciding to set things straight. "Actually, I'm seeing Max tonight," she admitted, her tone carefully neutral. 

Mason's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, is it like a date or something?" he asked, trying to sound casual. 

Y/N shrugged, a mix of uncertainty and honesty in her response. "I don't really know, Mason. We're just hanging out." 

Mason's expression shifted. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he held back, opting for a forced smile. "Alright, have a good time," he mumbled, a hint of disappointment still lingering. 

Feeling the weight of the moment, Y/N decided to address the unspoken tension. "We can do that movie night tomorrow if you're up for it," she suggested, hoping to salvage the plans and the mood. 

Mason, trying to mask his feelings, managed a half-smile. "Sure, sounds good." 

Despite the agreement, an unspoken layer of complexity settled between them. Mason knew that he had no right to feel disappointed that Y/N was seeing Max again, although strangly enough, that did little to comfort him. He didn’t even really understand why he felt this way, all he knew was that thinking of Y/N on a date with Max Verstappen made him feel like he had just swallowed a bunch of razorblades.  

Getting ready for a date that you didn’t know even if it was a date was not easy, as Y/N quickly found out. She truly did not know what vibe she needed to aim for, was it two friends hanging out casually or was it a real, romantic date? Y/N had absolutely no idea, eventually settling on the fact that it would be better to be overdressed than underdressed. She carefully selected an outfit, giving thought to every detail. As she applied a touch of makeup and styled her hair, she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of nervousness in her stomach. 

In the midst of getting ready, she noticed a text from Reece come through. 

Reece James 

Mason just told me that you have a date tonight?? Go you!! Let me know how it goes 

Y/N smiled to herself, if there was one good thing to come from the past few weeks it was the fact that her friendship with Reece had grown a lot. Before, they got along well but never really spoke to each other outside of group gatherings. But when Mason found out about Y/N’s crush and reacted badly, Reece had been there for Y/N and helped her a lot, and since then they had just gotten closer and closer. The fact that he cared enough to message her about it made her heart swell, although she did question as to why Mason told him in the first place.  

When Y/N arrived at the venue that Max had given her the address to, she had to take a second look to make sure she got the right place, it was one of the fanciest restaurants she had ever been to. The entrance of the restaurant was adorned with intricately carved wooden doors, their deep mahogany finish exuding an air of timeless elegance. As she stepped inside, the plush carpet underfoot whispered luxury with each silent footfall. 

The dim lighting of the foyer cast a warm glow, creating a sense of intimacy that enveloped the space. Ornate chandeliers, suspended from the high ceiling, glittered like cascading waterfalls of crystals, their reflections dancing on polished marble floors. The walls were adorned with carefully curated artwork, each piece contributing to the ambiance of sophistication. 

Moving deeper into the restaurant, Y/N couldn't help but admire the attention to detail in the decor. The tables, dressed in crisp, white linen, bore silverware that gleamed under the soft glow of candlelight. Crystal glasses sparkled in the ambient light, catching reflections of the flickering flames. 

If the restaurant didn’t make her nervous enough, the second she caught sight of Max waiting at their table she felt anxiety settle at the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t help but second guess herself and her decision to come tonight. Max stood up to greet her as soon as he saw her with a dazzling smile plastered across his face, his eyes lighting up with genuine joy as he pulled her into a warm embrace. 

The dim lighting played on Max's features, casting a romantic glow that made the moment feel almost cinematic. His playful yet flirtatious tone conveyed a sense of intimacy as he admitted,  

"Hey, Y/N. I’ve missed you." The words lingered in the air and Y/N couldn't help but blush at the unexpected intimacy. "I missed you too, Max," she replied, the air between them charged with a subtle energy. Almost immediately she felt assured that she had made the correct choice to see him again.  

As the evening unfolded in the lavish restaurant, Max, still holding Y/N close in conversation, apologized for taking a while to message her. "I've been swamped with work," he confessed, a hint of regret in his voice. Y/N, appreciating his honesty, reassured him with a smile. "No worries, Max. I'm just glad to hear from you." 

They delved into the menu, ordering an array of exquisite dishes and selecting a fine wine to complement the evening. As they waited for their meal, the atmosphere between them remained warm and inviting. Max, ever the conversationalist, leaned in with genuine curiosity.  

"So, how have you been? What have you been up to?" 

Y/N shared the highlights of her days, mentioning that she was working with Mason earlier that day to arrange a charity event. Max's expression shifted slightly, as if he wanted to ask a question, but he chose to redirect the conversation instead. "That sounds like important work. Good on you. Do you enjoy your work?” 

Y/N sensed the unspoken curiosity but didn't press further. Instead, she answered, “I do yeah, working with Mason is great fun we get along really well. Of course, I never planned to be a personal assistant for this long; it was supposed to be a temporary job when I first moved to London initially but that.. Well, that obviously didn’t happen”  

“What did you want to do when you moved to London then?” Max asked with genuine interest, surprising Y/N a bit, she wouldn’t have thought that Max Verstappen, a multi-millionaire Formula One driver who spends his life travelling the world in luxury, would be happy having a conversation so dull and insignificant as she thought this one was. Yet here he was doing exactly that.  

Y/N hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. "It's kind of silly," she admitted, her gaze momentarily dropping. Max, sensing there was more to the story, pressed on with a playful grin. "Come on, you can tell me. I promise I won't laugh." 

After a moment of contemplation, Y/N sighed and locked eyes with him. "You really promise?" 

Max nodded sincerely. "Cross my heart. I won't laugh." 

With a shy smile, Y/N finally revealed, "I wanted to be a model. That's why I moved to London." 

Instead of amusement, Max's expression shifted to genuine surprise. "Why would you think I'd laugh? You're incredibly beautiful, Y/N. I can totally see you as a model." 

Y/N blushed, taken aback by his unexpected support. "I don't know. It just seemed like a silly dream." 

Max shook his head, his eyes reflecting sincerity. "Not silly at all. You'd be amazing." 

Encouraged by his response, Y/N couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Max. You know, I’ve never actually told anyone that before. 

Max, intrigued by the unexpected revelation, couldn't help but ask, "Why did you tell me if you haven't shared this with anyone before?”  

The question took Y/N aback for a moment. She paused, reflecting on the spontaneity of her confession. After a thoughtful moment, she looked at Max with sincerity in her eyes. "I really don't know. I guess I just feel so comfortable around you that it makes me think I can tell you anything." 

Max's smile widened, a warmth spreading across his face. Y/N could see that her revelation meant a lot to him. 

As the evening progressed, the subject seamlessly transitioned to Formula One, a shared passion that sparked animated discussions. Max, recalling their time in Spain, remarked, "I remember that you said it was your first live race. How did you find it?" 

Y/N's face lit up as she recalled the thrill of the race. "I enjoyed it a lot. The atmosphere, the speed—everything was amazing." 

Max, a playful glint in his eye, leaned in a bit closer. "Well, if I invite you to another race, would you come?" 

Y/N giggled, catching the flirty undertone. "Hmm, I could probably be persuaded to come," she teased.  

The evening quickly drew to a close and the pair began to finish off their meal and savor the last sips of the wine that Max had chosen. The ambiance of the restaurant lingered in the air, creating a space where conversations shifted effortlessly between light banter and more serious reflections. 

Max, his demeanor taking on a more serious note, looked at her with a contemplative expression. 

"Hey, Y/N, can I ask you a question?" 

Y/N, sensing the shift in atmosphere, felt a twinge of worry but nodded. "Of course, Max. Ask away." 

Max took a moment before posing the question that had been on his mind. "I just wanted to know what the situation is between you and Mason, I noticed that in Spain it seemed like there was some hostility between you and him, especially when it came to you spending time with me.” 

Y/N, caught slightly off guard, hesitated for a moment. She could sense that Max was genuinely concerned, and his straightforward approach deserved an honest response, but she just didn’t know what to say.  

In the time that Y/N took to think, Max spoke up again. “It’s just that, I’m really starting to like you; but if there’s something between you and Mason, I don’t want to come between anything you guys have.” 

“There isn’t.” she started speaking. “Well not really. Mason and I have been friends for a long time, best friends. And during that time, I started to develop feelings for him. I tried to keep it hidden but he found out just before we left for Spain and he didn’t take it well. He made it clear that nothing would ever happen between us, but he also seemed to get really annoyed at the way I felt”  

Max’s expression was unreadable as she continued. “It’s complicated, really complicated. We’re working on getting our friendship back to how it was before, but it’s not been easy. All Mason and I are ever going to be is friends, and I’m starting to really like you too. But I understand that its’a a pretty awkward situation, so if you want to leave I understand.” 

Max's expression remained unreadable, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might be considering leaving. However, to her surprise, he stood up. Her heart sank, assuming that he was about to make an exit, and she tried to hide her disappointment behind a polite smile. 

But instead of walking away, Max extended his hand toward her. Confusion filled Y/N's eyes as she looked at his outstretched hand. Max met her gaze and spoke with a gentle smile, "Come on, I want to take you to my favorite part of London." 

Relief and surprise washed over Y/N as she realized he wasn't leaving. She took his hand, feeling a sense of curiosity bubbling within her. 

A short car ride later, Max and Y/N arrived at a hidden gem of a coffee shop nestled in the heart of London. The exterior exuded a quaint charm, with ivy climbing the brick façade and a small, hand-painted sign welcoming patrons inside. As they stepped through the door, a soft chime announced their entry, and the cozy ambiance enveloped them. 

The interior was a delightful blend of rustic and eclectic, with exposed brick walls adorned with strings of fairy lights casting a warm glow. Mismatched wooden tables and chairs created an intimate setting, each piece seeming to have its own story to tell. Vintage-style lamps with patterned shades added a touch of nostalgia, and the air was infused with the rich scent of freshly ground coffee beans. 

The counter, adorned with handwritten chalkboard and small potted plants, beckoned them to explore the offerings. Quirky artwork hung from the walls, ranging from local artists' pieces to hand-drawn illustrations that added to the uniqueness of the place. Soft jazz tunes played in the background, creating a backdrop of soothing melodies. 

Max, with a genuine smile, gestured around the coffee shop. "This is one of my favorite spots in London. I found it on one of my first trips here for factory work, and I've loved it ever since." 

As they settled into a cozy corner, Max leaned, speaking softly. "I took you to that fancy restaurant because that's what you're supposed to do on dates, but truthfully, I wanted to bring you here. There’s just something about this place." 

Y/N took in the charming details, appreciating the unique character of the coffee shop. "It looks absolutely lovely," she remarked sincerely. 

Max grinned. "They make the best hot chocolate you will ever taste here; can I get you one?." 

Approaching the counter, Max ordered two of their signature hot chocolates and as they settled in, the coffee shop transformed into a cozy haven—a perfect setting for a more relaxed and intimate continuation of their evening. 

As they drunk their drinks, Y/N couldn't help but express her wonder. "Max, how is it that someone who doesn't even live in London finds such amazing places? I've lived here for years and never stumbled upon somewhere this nice." 

Max chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. "I've always had a knack for finding those hidden gems. It's a talent, really. I've got plenty of spots like this in Monaco. I'd love to show you around sometime." 

Y/N's eyes widened at the mention of Monaco, a place she had always dreamed of visiting. "Monaco? That sounds amazing, but you know, it's not the kind of place I can afford on an assistant's salary." 

Max's smile remained, genuine and inviting. "You should come with me one day. Seriously." 

The unexpected proposal made Y/N's heart race a bit. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly, and the idea of jetting off to Monaco felt like a whirlwind. She managed a tentative smile and replied, "Yeah uh, maybe one day." 

As the conversation lingered, Y/N suddenly found herself panicking. It felt like a lot was happening too fast, and she needed a moment to process. "It's getting late, and I have work tomorrow," she explained. "I've really enjoyed tonight, Max. Thank you." With a kiss on his cheek, she excused herself and left the coffee shop. 

Walking home, Y/N's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She truly didn’t know what to do, she really liked Max, but things were moving really fast. Sighing, she took out her phone, found the contact she was looking for and dialed the number.  

"Hey, I know it's late, but can I come round?" 

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[seramilla]

So Emily after sneaking into hell to find her mother realizes it was a bad idea. Things are so much more chaotic and we'll worse than she thought she gets attacked though is able to escape unharmed and is having a bad time wondering if she should go back to heaven before suddenly she gets hit a by a dart and fall unconscious. She is waking up in a room tied to a chair hearing to women talking in Spanish about what they should do with the angel on is wearing a lab coat with glasses the other a crop top and pony tail. Once they notice Emily has come to they talk demanding to know what Emily was here to do and refusing the answer of looking for her mother. Clara (Emily doesn't know any names yet) threatens to torture her to get the answer out trying to seem though before Odette tells her they aren't both for ethical reasons and the whole torture doesn't work reason. (It doesn't look it up.) Clara wouldn't have she doesn't have the heart to actually hurt Emily but Emily doesn't know that. Emily insists that she is looking for her mom who fell thousands of years ago and the girls continue to not believe her. Finally Carmilla shows up she was in a meeting when she learned her girls caught an Angel and only just now got out to see this angel who they think is a spy. Carmilla doesn't recognize her at first and like her daughters assumes she is lying until Emily says her mothers name is Carmilla. (Emily doesn't know Carmilla's name at this point since the girls call her mom and mama)

Carmilla looks at this woman that her girls have brought before her, shocked and overcome with emotion. Never in all her years of being an overlord has she ever witnessed something like this. An angel, who had been waltzing around Hell and asking questions, as if every second in this place didn't mount the danger for a stranger such as herself tenfold.

It's even worse...so much worse, because she is practically a carbon copy of...her. Sera. Her long lost love. The resemblance is uncanny. Like if she reaches out and touches those freckled cheeks, she will feel the cool and familiar softness of Sera's face against her palm. Could she be...could Sera have moved on? Without her? Then why is this person here, asking for a "Carmilla?" Asking for her?

"Run this by me one more time, Emily," Carmilla says, even her one remaining virtue of patience being tested by this girl's wild story. "You left Heaven, of your own free will, to come look for this Carmilla? Why in all the realms would you do that? Without an entourage or escort? What business could a young angel like you have with a demon?"

Emily looks down. Poking her fingers together, like she's ashamed to have been caught. Ashamed to be breaking one of Heaven's greatest taboos. She should be ashamed, but for some reason, despite the danger, and how utterly careless this young woman is being, Carmilla can't bring herself to push the matter further.

"Like I told your daughters..." Emily begins, motioning to Clara and Odette, who are watching curiously from the sidelines. "I am looking for my mother. She's a fallen angel. Named Carmilla. She was pushed out a long time ago...I just wanted to see if she's still alive...and let her know that my other mother misses her very much."

Carmilla takes a deep breath. Lets it out slowly. No, her other mother couldn't possibly be...

"And what is your other parent's name?" Carmilla asks, already anticipating the answer.

"She is the High Seraphim, Sera. I was conceived right before Carmilla fell. I don't even know if she realizes I exist."

Sera...Emily...Seraphim. Leave it to Sera, but her naming scheme is predictable, if nothing else. Oh, holy fucking Hell, how had Carmilla not realized this sooner?

Carmilla turns around. Clara and Odette look on in concern as Carmilla takes her face into her claws, holding her cheeks as she tries desperately not to show how startled she is. Emily...her and Sera's daughter...here with her now...with her and Sera's other children...

She turns back around to look at Clara and Odette. Her other girls appear to have come to the same conclusion, their startled and shocked expressions giving away everything they must be feeling inside. She's never hidden Sera's name from them. She'd always wanted her girls to know where they came from. Had told them everything a long time ago.

Their mother is also Sera, because Carmilla had also Fallen while pregnant. So this Emily person is their other sister...which means Sera is alive and well. Heaven hadn't found out about their relationship and punished her, too. Oh, thank her lucky stars for that.

Carmilla turns to Emily. Her face has suddenly changed from stern and concerned, to warm and inviting. There are tears in her eyes. Emily tilts her head, wondering if she'd said something to upset the older woman.

"Are you okay?" Emily asks, genuinely remorseful. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad. Do you want me to leave?"

Carmilla shakes her head. She's smiling now.

"No. I'm all right. Please, don't go. I'm just so...happy!"

Emily does look confused now, but also curious. What is this overlord getting at?

"It's just that...my name is Carmilla. I'm the only one I know of in this entire city. Most people change their names when they come here, but I didn't. And I think, based on everything you've said, that I'm the one you seek. Sera was my partner...for many hundreds, thousands of years. She was pregnant when I fell. I think you might be...I hope beyond hope that you are mine."

Emily's eyes widen. She looks at Carmilla, like her eyes might pop out of her head at any moment. Then she is the one crying. Big, drippy, snotty tears. Completely unafraid of how she looks before these complete strangers...in front of her mother.

"Carmilla!...Mama! Are you certain?"

"I think so, mija."

"Ma-Mama!" Emily throws herself at Carmilla, hugging her so tightly, Carmilla thinks her spine might crack. Emily is bawling now. She puts her head on Emily's quaking head, feeling her move up to be closer against her front. "I can't believe I finally found you. Mom...Sera...she will be so happy! I don't even know you, but...I'm sorry I came here alone, but she missed you so much! And I just wanted to meet you!"

Carmilla strokes Emily's hair, as the small angel cries into her chest. "Sshh, it's okay, mija. Everything is all right. I forgive you. Everything will be all right."

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 1 (episodes 21-26)

Episode 21 - Igol

This is a big episode because this is where we get the "Adamai knows stasis magic" lore drop that is never elaborated on, or mentioned altogether.

Episode 22 - Rubilax

Someday, someone will complete a translation of the Dofus manga in russian or english and I'll finally learn what's the deal with this man and why he died and got better and how crazy his doomed yaoi with his dead dragon husband gets.

Heartbreakingly, this day is not yet here.

[Kerubim and Goultard crying together over a drink, begin talking at the same time] I miss my dead wife, Goulatrd/Kerubim. I miss her/him a lot.

Big lore: Sleep masks exist in this universe.

Episode 23 - The Quest for the Dofus

He'll get it eventually. I did.

Episode 24 - Reunion

I love their family so much, I wish they could be happy. But every time something changes, it's far too late... It is tragically realistic, I suppose.

I don't know why, but this is such a pretty frame... The soft morning light, the dim room, the plants the glowing mushrooms...

Also, rare moment to take in what the guest rooms look like at the Sadida castle!

This episode (and at least one past episode) has quite a bit of ciphered text that I haven't been translating because I'm evil. Sorry. It's not the same script as the texts in Aux Tresors, despite the similarities, so you'll have to resort to google, or to decoding it yourself. You could start with the fact that this presumably says "Arbe de vie"

Episode 25 - I Am A Legend

Stasis mention 🔥🔥🔥

This whole scene always makes me tear up. I am actually insane and crazed every time I rewatch the last two episodes.

Your insane Joris trivia of the day is that this scene was changed between various airings/versions of Wakfu. For some mysterious reason. Here's a comparison:

I prefer the old version because.... [blushes] [kicks legs] [twiddles with my hair] HES SO PRETTY—- But also besides me being insane and in love with him, it just seems to have better composition and flow, imo.

My theories for why he was late:

He was sent to get reinforcements from other countries, or call for help. Though it is unlikely that many other kingdoms responded, given how little people care about Sadida (the most likely, normal, and realistic explanation)

He went together with the army of Sadida and the king to fight the war and ran all the way here using his insane speed (the second most likely, normal, and realistic explanation)

He overslept

He got lost

He was busy, man...

He was writing a letter to Keke and Atch about how he beat the shit out of some sadida guards and two girls clapped and cheered and lost track of time.

This exchange has always been so funny to me for some reason.

"What is the situation" He says,, while a giant mecha is about to kill what likely amounts to one-twelfth of the world's population.

I have talked about it a lot, but I am so deeply unwell about how cold he is. A girl lost her lover and is crying inconsolably, and he's not really paying that attention. One twelfth of the world population is about to die, and he won't show an ounce of discomfort or horror or grief.

Obviously he doesn't like it, but showing any weakness is out of the question.

More people have died from Ogrest, and she's like, the 60th girl on a battlefield on his memory to be crying after losing someone.

There are no unsolvable issues in this world.

I need to study him like a bug.

Episode 26 - Mount Zinit

Standing so prettily...

I think one of Joris's core "insanity and depression prevention" life philosophies is that, if he is not present at a battle, and can not physically be present, then he's not to blame for any horrible thing that happens.

I think this philosophy works almost never to quell his feelings of unease, and right now he is calculating 132924 ways he could have gotten here faster and just how much it would fix things.

(guy who runs a blog about pointing out obvious things Joris does voice) There's a very subtle expression change here. He starts looking intently as Amalia proposes going to help Yugo and Adamai. He was going to do this. However, the second he hears her yell "no", his expression changes once more.

We don't see whether he rushes to aid Eva in any way after she collapses from grief, but I will be honest — he would never do that.

Even if he has a pre-established good relationship with her. He just can't do that. He probably stands there awkwardly, in that same exact place, and feels very bad the entire time — because he can neither comfort Eva (they're practically strangers, he hesitated far too long, he'll make things worse—), nor go help Yugo (he can't just leave Eva and Ruel alone... What if more enemies appear? Or what if they think he abandoned them amidst grief? And would he even be useful?)

I think standing next to inconsolable people is Joris's personal hell.

I am insane.

I think one of the reasons Wakfu season 1 is so memorable, and so effective, is that there is no glorious pay off.

Yugo has a heroic moment of friendship overpowering everything — and then, after a second of being scared, Nox overtakes him. Nox wins. And that win is a mere 20 minutes. And for what? Pinpin is still dead. Everyone he killed is still dead.

Yugo doesn't get a glorious win, or his friend back. There is no epic swell of music. Just something quiet, foreboding, and truly meaningless.

OMG HI.

Your daily reminder that canonically, Eva is an amazing artist.

💀

Once again, Sadida Kingdom and Bonta have a very good relationship. Besties who hoard magical nukes together stay together.

[stellocchia]

I've been thinking about Color's chat a bit more (they're forever called that in my mind) and I've come up with just... a bunch of headcanons. None of these have any basis in the canon of Othertale aside from the fact that Patience is Color's favorite and what the consequences of that may be. Considering the fact that these are souls of dead children, keep in mind there's a mild cw for child death mention.

Integrity:

He's the oldest of the bunch (it takes a while for kids to develop integrity, so, yeah). He was probably already a teenager when he died (imagine 16-17 age range)

He's very often the only one having any common sense in the group. And that is counting Color

He speaks up relatively often but is in no way the most chatty of the group

He is closest to Kindness who he views as a sort of annoying little sister (affectionate)

If I remember correctly, in canon Undertale the items connected to the integrity trait are a tutu and ballet shoes. So the shoes stay the same, but I say you find a fancy sparkly unitard in Waterfall instead from him

He has some very vague memories of his life, mostly of what pushed him up Mount Ebott and then of his death. Like all the others, he does not remember his name

He and Color have a pretty positive relationship, though on certain occasions Integrity does get frustrated with what he perceives as Color's complacency and his overly trusting nature

Perseverance:

She's the second-oldest, being around 15 when she died

She's a nerd but in the "evil scientist" kinda way (she's not really evil, but she has fun roleplaying that kinda stuff). She is the holder of the braincell, except it's rarely gonna used in a productive way

She speaks rarely, and almost exclusively to come up with some convoluted plan that would most likely end up making the problem at hand worse. She just really wants to watch the world burn sometimes and would probably get along great with Killer

She is closest to Bravery, as they have a sort of evil mastermind and her henchman kinda dynamic. She's also rather friendly with Justice, to everyone's surprise

The items you find for her are the classic Torn Notebook and a pair of glasses. Except, instead of being cloudy, they are missing the lenses. That's because she could see just fine, but she liked the aesthetic

She has a lot of memories of her old life, but never speaks about them with the others. Color sometimes wonders if she actually remembers her name, but doesn't want the others to feel inadequate and doesn't use it because of that

Her relationship with Color is chaotic. To Color, it often feels like having a younger Killer stuck in his brain. Except usually less stab-happy

Justice:

They were 14 when they died

They're an extremely bright and energetic kid. And they have the strongest moral compass in the group. They still entertain Perseverance and Bravery's antics rather often because they know those two can't exactly harm anyone. At times they can get a bit preachy about their beliefs, but someday here has gotta have a moral backbone...

They're average on the speaking front. Not too much, not too little. Yet always with conviction to the point that it's hard to tell when they're joking

As mentioned, they're closest to Perseverance, but do get along great with Patience, Kindness, and Integrity on certain topics

The items you find for them are a cowboy hat and an empty gun. They claim the gun was used "For chuckin' not shootin'"

The only memory of their past life they have is that of their death in the Underground. Everything else is just vague feelings of unease about certain things

They get along great with Color whenever they're not going along with Perseverance and Bravery's antics. Their morals align rather closely. Nightmare has in the past taunted Color, saying he clearly only believes what he does because of the Justice soul. But, truthfully, they found themselves in agreement from the get-go, way before Justice had a chance to influence him

Bravery:

He also died at 14 like Justice

He's the punch first, ask questions later type. Very reckless, often obnoxiously loud. He is down with violence in theory, though he gets squeamish when they actually witness any. He's very much all bite and no bark

He speaks the most out of anyone in the group. He's far more talkative than Color as well. At times even drowning out his thoughts with his incessant chatter

He's closest to Perseverance. He really likes any Undyne because of this, they remind him of Perseverance. Also, he thinks Integrity is kinda lame but in a "Cringy Big Brother I'm still running to if I get in trouble" way

The items you find for him are a Tough Glove and a Manly Bandanna. He remembers that they were from some character he liked in life, but doesn't remember which one

He has quite a few memories from his life before Mount Ebott, but none from after his fall. Doesn't remember how he died either. And he doesn't know why he ended up scaling the mountain since he remembers only all the happy memories he had

He's a chaotic little shit and Color is a very tired single mom. That's their relationship

Patience:

Patience was a pre-teen (around 11-12yo) when he died

They are a very calm individual, oftentimes fading into the background and just letting the world pass them by. They're against any form of violence and only entertain the idea for jokes when they're certain it's not gonna hurt anyone. They're also endlessly trusting and willing to give anyone one more chance if they show an interest in changing

He speaks the least in the group. Though his calm presence is always felt regardless, mostly as a vibe

They're not especially close to any of the other souls, though they do get along the best with Kindness as she tends to be a very positive person

The items you find for him are a faded ribbon and a toy knife. He mentioned once that the fake knife was just sharp enough to get rid of the ribbon, but not of his hair

They remember very well why they climbed up the mountain. They only talked about their parents not being accepting, and them giving up on trying to make them understand after a few years. They regret giving up on them now, saying perhaps in time... they also remember their time in the Ruins in its entirety and have very fond memories of Toriel. Their death was supposedly a tragic accident, but it's never entirely clear if they're sincere when they say that

He's the closest with Color even if they don't talk much. He often helps keep their host calm under stress, and also encourages him to be understanding of others at any opportunity he gets. Color appreciates them greatly, though, at times, he does acknowledge that their help can backfire

Kindness:

She's by far the youngest of the bunch, being only between 8-10 when she passed away

She's a very happy-go-lucky kid. Very empathetic, very energetic, and a big food lover. She's very affectionate too and generally believes that anything can be fixed with a hug and a good meal. She is a bit naive, but also, well, she is a really young child

She speaks an average amount. Usually when Integrity is also involved in the conversation as he makes her feel more confident

She's closest to Integrity. That's her big brother and nobody can convince her otherwise. However, she gets along with literally everyone in the group. This can become an issue when Bravery drags her into his shenanigans because their energy just keeps building on each other

The items you can find for her are a Burnt Pan and a Stained Apron. Those were both gifts from Toriel. And, apparently, the pan got burned during a cooking lesson from Heats Flamesman (nobody else there has a single clue of who that is, Color included)

She remembers nothing of her life before the fall, and she only remembers the good things that happened in the Underground, and the nice monsters she talked with. She has a lot of fond memories of Toriel, of the Innkeeper at the Snowed Inn, of this Heats Flamesman guy, and so on. Her journey was very different and far longer than that of the others as she kept spending time with and befriending all the monsters who weren't immediately hostile to her

Much like with Bravery, Color is kind of a parental figure for her. They're pretty close, and they have similar attitudes about life, so it's often uncomplicated

-

@howlsofbloodhounds ('cause I know you mentioned wanting to see these)

[xueyuverse]

I would just like some clarification if you can help! I see you post excerpts from the web novel and say uncensored on them. Does the web novel follow the books with extra info or are they the same? What is the difference between the two?

There is a lot of new content in practically 80% of the novel revised version, right? In the uncensored version there are only the scenes that were actually censored. Some new content in the revised version:

Characters like Lang Ying (the ghost child) and Prince An Le were cut.

Xiao Ying recognizes Xie Lian and calls him "prince" before she dies, so I have a theory that she replaced Lang Ying's role (I haven't finished reading it yet).

Xie Lian chose Lang Qianqiu as a disciple to protect him from Qi Rong, who chased and haunted him when he was a child. As for the Gilded Banquet massacre, Xie Lian knew that it was Qi Rong's work, and at the time, he suppressed him.

Xie Lian cannot enter the Xianle Imperial Mausoleum because the place's enchantment recognizes Xie Lian as the prince who destroyed Xianle.

Xie Lian's feelings towards Hua Cheng are also much more intense, in the Ganbler's Den arc, for example, their interaction is hotter than in the original, with lines like Xie Lian asking Hua Cheng to spend a night with him and Hua Cheng replying that "it would be my first time".

In the Qi Rong arc, Hua Cheng doesn't take Xie Lian straight to his lair, but rather takes him to wander around different cities for days under the pretext that he needed Xie Lian's help with something. It's in this new content that we have Hua Cheng competing for a golden flower and, upon winning, he gives the flower to Xie Lian.

Mu Qing appears to be much more concerned about Xie Lian as well, he's always teaming up with Feng Xin to help and protect him. When Hua Cheng "kidnaps" Xie Lian, for example, in the original the only one who appears together with Shi Qingxuan is Feng Xin, in this version he, together with Mu Qing, ask for Shi Qingxuan's help disguised as Nan Feng and Fu Yao to find he.

Jun Wu's influence is also sharper. For example, his influence on Ling Wen is more apparent than in the original, with her always saying that he's good and fair and that he is "someone who forgives easily", always trying to convince Xie Lian that everything will work out for him cause the final decisions are in Jun Wu's hands.

The censored version cuts kissing scenes and other hot scenes, while the uncensored version has more freedom, although it's still a little censored. In the Mount Tonglu arc, for example, in the uncensored version, Hua Cheng is practically touching Xie Lian's entire body, while Xie Lian cries during the kiss.

The audio drama even adapts this revised version, so if you've seen any scene from the ad, or are following the updates, know that it's the same.

For now this is all I have :)