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hollymbryan · 2 years ago

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Blog Tour + #Review: CITY SPIES: CITY OF THE DEAD by James Ponti (w/ #giveaway)!

Welcome to Book-Keeping and my stop on the Rockstar Book Tours blog tour for the fourth installment in the City Spies series by James Ponti, City Spies: City of the Dead, which releases next Tuesday, 7 February! If you’ve followed my reviews before, you’ll know what a huge fan I am of this series, so I’m thrilled to tell you all about this latest installment. You can also find my review and a giveaway below!

About the Book

title: City Spies: City of the Dead author: James Ponti publisher: Aladdin release date: 7 February 2023

In this fourth installment in the New York Times bestselling series from Edgar Award winner James Ponti, the young group of spies go codebreaking in Cairo in another international adventure perfect for fans of Spy School and Mrs. Smith’s Spy School for Girls. Codename Kathmandu, better known as Kat, loves logic and order, has a favorite eight-digit number, and can spot a pattern from a mile away. So when a series of cyberattacks hits key locations in London while the spies are testing security for the British Museum, it’s clear that Kat’s skill for finding reason in what seems like randomness makes her the perfect candidate to lead the job. And while the team follows the deciphered messages to Egypt and the ancient City of the Dead to discover who is behind the attacks and why, Kat soon realizes that there’s another layer to the mystery. With more players, more clues, and involving higher levels of British Intelligence than ever before, this mission is one of the most complex that the group has faced to date. And it’s also going to bring about a change to the City Spies…

Add to Goodreads Purchase the Book Check out the Book Trailer

Grab the rest of the City Spies books now!

About the Author

JAMES PONTI (he/him/his) is the New York Times bestselling author of three middle grade book series: City Spies, about an unlikely squad of five kids from around the world who form an elite MI6 Spy Team; the Edgar Award–winning Framed! series, about a pair of tweens who solve mysteries in Washington, DC; and the Dead City trilogy, about a secret society that polices the undead living beneath Manhattan. His books have appeared on more than fifteen different state award lists and he is the founder of a writers group known as the Renegades of Middle Grade. James is also an Emmy– nominated television writer and producer who has worked for many networks including Nickelodeon, Disney Channel, PBS, History, and Spike TV, as well as NBC Sports. He lives with his family in Orlando, Florida.

My 5-Star Review

If you’ve followed my reviews for any length of time, you may know just how much I love this middle grade series. My son and I have both read them all (though he hasn’t yet gotten his hands on this latest one!), and we’ve also read, both separately and out loud together, Mr. Ponti’s Dead City series, which we also love. (He has also read the Framed! series, though I have not.) Naturally I was going to jump at the chance to read and review book four! (You can find my reviews of book one here and book two here.)

While I suppose you technically could read this as a standalone, I would highly recommend reading the first three books first -- you’ll get a much better feel for the characters, and they’re totally all worth reading! In each book, a different one of our “city spies” (their codenames are each the cities in which they were found) is the alpha, or leader, of the mission. In book four, it’s Kat’s turn, and she leads in several missions throughout the book, which take the spies from London to Berlin to, ultimately, Cairo and Luxor, Egypt. Kat has always been a favorite character of mine -- she has Asperger’s and is able to see patterns amid all the chaos of life. She’s truly brilliant and refreshingly honest and plain-spoken! The spies continue hot on the heels of Umbra in this installment, and there’s a surprise addition to the City Spies team that no one was expecting. I literally read the entire book in one sitting; I just couldn’t stop flipping the pages!

I highly, highly recommend this series for all middle grade readers (will be especially good for reluctant readers!), as well as anyone who just enjoys a good spy thriller (one appropriate for kids, of course). This installment continues the unbroken string of five-star reviews for each book in the series. And with *that ending*, I can’t wait to read book five!

Rating: 5 stars!

**Disclosure: I received a copy of the book from the publisher for purposes of this blog tour. This review is voluntary on my part and reflects my honest rating and review of the book.

About the Giveaway

One (1) lucky winner will receive a finished copy of City Spies: City of the Dead by James Ponti! This one is US only and ends on 6 February 2023. Enter via the Rafflecopter below, and good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the Blog Tour + James’ Tours

Here’s the schedule for this second and final week of the blog tour, as well as James’ schedule of tours for the book launch!

Blog Tour, Week Two:

1/30/2023 - Nerdophiles - Review 1/30/2023 - Eye-Rolling Demigod's Book Blog - Review/IG Post

1/31/2023 - Wanderingwitchreads - TikTok Review/IG Post 1/31/2023 - Review Thick And Thin - Review/IG Post

2/1/2023 - @ChristenKrumm - IG Review 2/1/2023 - Two Points of Interest - Review

2/2/2023 - Book-Keeping - Review/IG Post 2/2/2023 - @bookmama85 - IG Review

2/3/2023 - OneMoreExclamation - Review/IG Post 2/3/2023 - @froggyreadteach - IG Review

James’ launch tours:

Monday, February 7, 2023 at 6:00pm CT Virtual launch event hosted by Blue Willow Bookshop (Houston, TX) In conversation with Kelly Yang (author of NEW FROM HERE and FINALLY SEEN)

Wednesday, February 8, 2023 at 7:00pm ET In-person event hosted by Little Shop of Stories (Decatur, GA) In conversation with Laurel Snyder (author of ORPHAN ISLAND and CHARLIE & MOUSE)

Thursday, February 9, 2023 at 6:00pm ET In-person event hosted by Malaprop’s (Asheville, NC) In conversation with Alan Gratz (author of REFUGEE, GROUND ZERO, and TWO DEGREES)

Friday, February 10, 2023 at 5:00pm ET In-person event hosted by RJ Julia Booksellers (Madison, CT) In conversation with Lauren Tarshis (author of the I SURVIVED series)

Saturday, February 11, 2023 at 3:00pm ET In-person event hosted by Books of Wonder (New York, NY) In conversation with Sayantani DasGupta (author of THE FIRE QUEEN series), Chris Grabenstein (author of DOG SQUAD and THE SMARTEST KID IN THE UNIVERSE), and Karina Yan Glaser (author of THE VANDERBEEKERS series)

Sunday, February 12, 2023 at 2:00pm CT In-person event at St. Louis Public Library hosted by The Novel Neighbor (St. Louis, MO) In conversation with George Jreije (author of SHAD HADID AND THE ALCHEMISTS OF ALEXANDRIA)

Monday, February 13, 2023 at 7:00pm CT In-person event hosted by Wild Rumpus Books for Young Readers (Minneapolis, MN) In conversation with Jacqueline West (author of THE BOOKS OF ELSEWHERE and LONG LOST)

Tuesday, February 14, 2023 at 5:30pm ET In-person event hosted by Quail Ridge Books (Raleigh, NC) In conversation with Kwame Mbalia (author of the TRISTAN STRONG series)

Thursday, February 16, 2023 at 10:30am ET In-person event hosted by Politics & Prose (Washington, D.C.)

Saturday, February 18, 2023 at 2:00pm ET In-person event hosted by The International Spy Museum (Washington, D.C.)

Saturday, February 25, 2023 at 2:00pm ET In-person event hosted at Lake Highland Prep School hosted by Writer’s Block Bookstore (Orlando, FL) In conversation with Jerry Craft (author of NEW KID and CLASS ACT)

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hgfictionwriter · 4 months ago

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Road Trip

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You and Jessie take a little road trip out of town. The fun doesn't have to wait until you get to your destination.

Warnings: G!P (girl penis) sex: hand job, oral (r giving head). Fingering (r receiving). Car sex. Semi-public sex. Language.

A/N: This is a G!P Jessie universe one-shot. Not part of the Control series. I'm also probably obliged to say - don't try this at home lol.

During a rare long weekend for both you and Jessie, you decided to take a road trip out of town. You'd booked a cute cabin a few hours away and you and Jessie had been looking forward to this for weeks. She'd prepped a road trip playlist, you'd curated a stash of road snacks and mapped out the most scenic route to take.

The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon when you and Jessie hit the road. She navigated you through the somehow still congested city roads until eventually the traffic thinned and you were on the winding, open road through the forests of Oregon.

When you two weren't chatting, you were singing along to the music, Jessie now and then subtly bobbing her head along to the music or tapping her toes in time with the beat if she was really into it, quietly humming at most.

You drove past a particular landmark and Jessie recited various facts and history about it to you because, of course, she'd researched key things along your route. You braced your head against the window with your arm as you smiled softly while you watched her, listening to her excitedly tell you her learnings.

She wore her wavy hair down today, her black baseball cap on top. She wore a short sleeve shirt that showed off the subtle definition of her biceps and her muscular thighs were deliciously on display in the shorts she wore, her feet planted apart as she held the wheel with one hand, the other resting on her thigh.

You belatedly realized you'd gotten so lost in appreciating her form that you missed what she was saying. She caught your inattention.

"Are you even listening?" She asked, mildly exasperated but still giving you a lopsided smirk as she cocked her head at you. "The oldest tree in the state not exciting enough for you?"

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head with a smile at her. "Oh, I'm enthralled. Seriously," you went on, growing earnest as you rest a hand on her arm briefly, "I'm sorry. I love when you get excited about things. Tell me again, please. I was just...distracted."

She gave you a curious, sidelong glance.

"Distracted?"

"Distracted," you replied matter of factly.

"With what?" She inquired in a way that relayed to you that she had no clue how enticing she looked right now.

"Oh you know," you said as you leaned over in your seat and reached across to rest your hand on her thigh. Your hand inched inward, caressing and gently kneading her firm muscles. You spied how her grip on the steering wheel tightened momentarily and she readjusted.

"Oh," she said, veiled surprise in her voice as she kept her eyes trained on the road before eventually letting her gaze flit over to you briefly, her cheeks growing pink.

"I love how smart you are," you told her, your voice soft as you let your hand now wander up her leg, teasing the juncture between her upper thigh and hip. Your hand traced firmly along there, the tips of your fingers brushing oh so close to where you wanted to be. The loose fit of her shorts concealed what you knew was underneath.

"Uh huh," Jessie said absently as she shot you a look of warning. You continued to rub the inside of her thigh and held back a smirk at how she cleared her throat and shifted under your touch, straightening in her seat with another look at you.

You didn't hold back your smile as you saw a gentle curve start to form in her shorts.

"Have you ever had road head before?" You asked as you began to gently palm the bulge that was taking shape under your attention.

She exhaled roughly. "No," she said curtly, shooting you a brief glare. "Seems pretty irresponsible."

"That's too bad," you hummed in mock disappointment as you continued to cup her, feeling her grow firmer and bigger under your hand, the loose fabric of her shorts slowly being pulled taut by her swelling arousal.

Jessie swallowed and shifted in her seat while she shot you another discerning look.

"Would you like to try?" You asked, a lilt in your voice as you continued to rub her through her shorts.

She cleared her throat again and you caught how she dug the fingers of her free hand into her thigh before making a fist and released again, still digging into her leg.

You shifted her lap belt out of the way, then you undid the button of her shorts. She let out an audible noise, her shoulders rolling back subconsciously while keeping her eyes trained on the road.

"I trust you," you told her as you slowly began to unzip her shorts up and over the angle of her stiffening cock. She released a soft gasp.

"I don't think I trust myself," she corrected.

"You can always tell me to stop," you told her in all seriousness as you undid the button on her boxers. You stopped, looking up at her now and giving her room to actually halt things. She didn't, so you pushed the fabric aside to reveal her stiff cock.

A wave of arousal went through you, now you being the one to shift uncomfortably in your seat. You inadvertently licked your lips.

"God, you make me so wet," you told her. She let out a small breath, her head falling back against the head rest. You watched as her shoulders raised and lowered more fully as she worked to control her breath and stay focused on the road. You licked your fingers, the motion drawing her gaze and she groaned lightly, a smile tugging at her lips now.

"Jesus," she said with a subtle shake of her head. "This wasn't on my itinerary," she joked, a crooked grin now adorning her face.

"It wasn't on mine either," you said as you reached over and wrapped your hand around her length. She let out a low gasp, her shoulders sinking. "But you look so amazing and I adore you too much. I couldn't resist," you went on as you slowly began to spread her precum across the sensitive head of her cock with your thumb, taking your time, your touch light and teasing. You gradually slid your hand up her length and then back down.

Jessie let out a low groan and you saw her legs flex and one hand now clutched the fabric of her shorts tightly in a fist.

Her lips parted, her breathing quickened as you slowly stroked her up and down, your thumb still teasing her. You wore a carefully concealed but affectionate smile as you saw how she worked valiantly to keep the car steady. You began to stroke her a bit more firmly.

"Oh God," she said, her eyes flitting over to you. Her expression shifting from a mix of focus and pleasure to a goofy grin and a blush as she made eye contact with you. She grabbed the wheel with her other hand and reached out now to rub your thigh, wanting some kind of contact with you.

As you continued to touch her, you allowed a new bead of precum to form at the tip.

With your free hand, you unclicked your seatbelt. Jessie immediately snapped to attention, coming out of her partial daze and looking at you with concern.

"Hey, no," she said as she even wagged a finger at you. Without thinking, you grabbed her hand, bringing it up and gently placing her pointed finger in your mouth, sucking sensually on it, your head bobbing slightly as you locked eyes with her.

"Fuck." Jessie let out a shaky breath as she sat back in her seat again, dropping her fight with you. After a moment she managed to muster up a pleading look.

"We'll be fine, baby," you assured her. "There's hardly anyone on the road and it's pretty straight for a while." Her eyebrows furrowed further though she voiced no more complaints. "Just keep your eyes on the road," you instructed gently, a glint in yours as you shifted in your seat so you were fully facing her.

She let out a long, audible exhale and placed both hands on the wheel in anticipation.

You grasped her in your warm hand again, stroking her gently. You absently noted out of the corner of your eye the way her jaw clenched at your renewed touch.

"God, I love your cock," you told her as you adjusted yourself one final time before bending over and tracing your tongue around the head before pulling your tongue fully across and licking up her precum.

"Oh fuck," Jessie said, almost gutturally. You smiled before taking her fully into your mouth, closing your lips around her and sucking as your tongue swirled around her head furthermore.

"Jesus Christ," Jessie went on. You smiled into her as you heard her grip tightening around the leather of the steering wheel.

You continued to tease her tip, enjoying how your ministrations already had tension mounting in her body, evident by the flexing and shifting of her legs and the frequent readjusting of her grip on the steering wheel.

Satisfied, you took her further into your mouth, closing your lips as far down her length as you could, feeling the firm head of her cock pushing at the back of your throat. She let out a shuddering moan and you felt the car jerk a little - her hand shooting out immediately onto your back to brace you as she righted the car.

"Fuck, sorry," she said breathlessly, her hand rubbing your back apologetically before she grabbed the steering wheel with both hands again.

You didn't respond. You simply gripped the base of her length, rotating and stroking there as you began to bob your head up and down.

You heard Jessie let her head fall back against the head rest again with a dull thud as she moaned low in her chest. You moaned against her in response, the vibration and sound adding another level of pleasure for Jessie. She unintentionally began to subtly rock herself up into your mouth.

You continued to suck her off and you had to fight off the grin over Jessie's increasingly vain attempts to retain composure. She breathed heavily, blowing measured breaths, bright pink cheeks puffed out in a combination of exertion and concentration. Her knuckles were sheer white as she gripped the wheel and blinked rapidly, trying to keep her eyes focused on the road.

Her breaths started to grow shallow and shaky, her low moans transitioning into soft, needy whimpers. Though you knew she was doing her best to not thrust into you, her hips were subtly pushing into you with a quickening pace.

She was fully in your mouth, the deepest thus far today when she spoke urgently.

"I can't," is all she said as you felt her turn the wheel and brake, the car veering before steadying and slowing. You heard gravel and dirt getting kicked up under the car as she pulled over.

Now stopped, Jessie leaned back fully in her chair and let out a deep moan of relief. You lifted your eyes briefly to see her raising both hands to her forehead, arms out and head tossed back as you continued to envelope her with your warm mouth.

She soon placed a hand on the back of your head and you began to bob up and down, sucking and licking her more vigorously.

"Oh fuck, babe," she panted. "I'm gonna cum."

You were undeterred, continuing your skillful motions and relishing how her moans rose in pitch and frequency as she rocked into your mouth and bundled your hair tightly in her fist.

Her moans reached a high and she tensed up underneath you, her hips pushing herself deeper as she spilled herself into your throat. You didn't waver and instead you moaned as you swallowed every drop of her release.

Her hips began a slow stutter against you as she began to come down. You slowed your strokes and the bobbing of your head until drawing up on her length one last time, sucking as much off of her as you could as you let her fall from your mouth. A small grunt escaped Jessie's lips as you released her.

You sat up, her eyes following you as you swallowed again and wiped at the corners of your mouth.

"Fucking Christ," Jessie breathed as she lifted her hands once more, closing her eyes and covering them as she sat there spent, her legs spread wide, cock slowly softening.

You gave her a small smile though she hadn't mustered up the strength to look at you again yet. "How was it?" You asked smugly.

She groaned, peeking an eye out from between her fingers to shoot you a look.

"Do you really have to ask?" She deadpanned. You shrugged nonchalantly and kissed her cheek.

"Thanks for keeping us safe, by the way," you said sweetly as you leaned in again and cupped the other side of her face and kissed her cheek once more. "I told you I trusted you."

Jessie let out an exasperated breath.

"It's a miracle we're both alive," she said flatly, eyes closed again as she tried to will herself out of her post-climax haze. She had to admit this was one of the strongest.

She heard some rustling, but didn't pay much attention to it. It was several moments later when she heard a barely audible moan. Her eyes flew open and she turned to you.

You were already watching her, meeting her gaze as your head was pressed back against the head rest and you rocked your hips against your fingers that you'd snuck into your panties while Jessie rested.

"If you're too tired, it's okay, I can always take care of myself."

An immediate rush of energy and arousal coursed through Jessie's body at seeing you touch yourself coupled with the flirtatious challenge you'd just issued. Her groin pulsed as blood began to rush back to her cock again.

Jessie growled at you as she undid her seatbelt and shifted towards you.

"I can take care of you," Jessie professed, nearly through grit teeth. "You don't need to do it yourself. It's my job to make you cum."

You released a small sigh of lust as you continued to play with your clit. "Oh, it's a job now, is it?" You still teased, a bit breathless. Jessie gave you a mischievous grin.

"You know it's the farthest thing from that." She glanced down at her cock that was already starting to swell with arousal. She whispered in your ear, pulling your earlobe between her teeth. "Look at what just the thought of making you cum is doing to me."

With no further delay, Jessie reached down into your pants, her hand covering yours and moving with your motions. She smiled at how you moaned, bringing your free hand up to cup the side of her face.

Jessie took over for you, her fingers slipping through your folds, coating her fingers in your arousal. She groaned, feeling another rush course up the length of her stiffening cock at how soaked you were. She couldn't resist slipping inside of you with how wet you were, you both moaned as she filled you and you spread your legs further.

"God, you're gorgeous," she told you as she slowly pumped in and out before withdrawing to rub your clit once more. Wet sounds filled the car as Jessie did so. "Oh babe," her voice wanting, "you seem to have enjoyed that head nearly as much as I did."

You whimpered, grinding your hips down against her fingers.

"I love making you cum," you told her as you ran your fingers through her hair, tossing her hat into the backseat. Your eyes were closed in pleasure as Jessie stimulated your sensitive nub. When you finally opened your eyes, your gaze was drawn to Jessie's rock hard cock. You let out a needy moan.

"I want you inside me," you said, already starting to move.

Jessie pulled away, fumbling at the side of her seat looking for the controls to shift her seat back, her mind unable to focus. As she moved her seat and reclined it some, you were removing your pants and underwear.

Jessie grabbed them out of your hands and tossed them into the back seat before swiftly reaching out and grasping your waist, helping you maneuver over the gear shift to settle on top of her.

In the flurry of urgency and need, you winced as you knocked your head against the roof of the car as you tried to figure out the right positioning in these tight quarters. Jessie and you shared a short laugh.

"Hold on," she said as she reclined her seat fully to give you more room.

You wasted no time in sinking down on Jessie, her holding her cock in place for you as you did so. You both moaned loudly.

"Oh fuck," Jessie said, blinking widely through the pleasure that swept over her at being sheathed inside of your hot core. "God damn," she said through gritted teeth as she gripped your waist tighter and started to rock her hips up into you.

"Oh my God, Jess," you breathed, your head thrown back. "You feel so fucking good inside of me." You moaned further. "You fill me so full."

"Fuck yeah, babe," Jessie grunted as she began to thrust into you with greater force already. "You're so tight around me. You could make me cum on the first thrust, I swear it."

A loud moan fell from your lips and you leaned your hands on Jessie's chest, now looking down at her and starting to ride her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head briefly as you took over, lifting up until Jessie's tip was stretching out your entrance before sinking back down and rocking your hips forward and doing it all over again.

"You are so beautiful," Jessie said adoringly as she moved her hands up to your rib cage and leaned up to kiss your chest.

The way you rode Jessie wasn't soft or gentle. You bounced down on to her thick cock hard and fast, with Jessie pumping up to meet your thrusts. You got lost in the moment, forgetting the confines of the space and hit your head again at the peak of a particularly wanton thrust.

"Shit!" You cursed, managing to not lose your rhythm.

"Oh shit," Jessie echoed, a brief laugh sneaking out though she still instinctually shot a hand out to belatedly protect the top of your head. "Are you okay?"

The moment of amusement and concern vanished as you continued to ride her, waves of pleasure threatening to overwhelm her as your tight heat enveloped and released her exquisitely. You braced your hand against the roof to anchor you.

"Just shut up and kiss me," you ordered.

She rose up to meet you, kissing you passionately, soon moaning into your kiss as the car rocked from your motions.

The lead up to all of this meant that both of your climaxes weren't far off. Jessie huffed in concentration as she stared up at your gorgeous form and did her best to hold her orgasm at bay. She tried to block out the realization that your cum was dripping down her cock and onto her thighs, maybe even onto the seat - the thought would drive her far too wild.

She was grateful when you began to whimper, the slapping of your thighs against her quickened and she knew you were on the brink. She sucked on your neck, not holding back like she normally would. It was just you two for the next few days, who cares if she marked you up.

"I need you to cum inside me," you begged as you bounced up and down.

"Oh fuck," Jessie breathed in reverie. She wrapped her arm around your back and propped her elbow against the middle console to thrust up into you more adamantly. "That's going to make me blow for sure." She shook her head in disbelief at you. "Anything for you."

You began to pulse, your core fluttering and tightening around Jessie's cock in a way that left her powerless. Within moments she was grunting, thrusting up into you as her own body tightened and soon indescribable rushes radiated through her body as she shot rope after rope of cum deep inside of you. Her hips jerked into you, all rhythm lost as the last drops of cum drained from her cock.

Jessie collapsed back onto the seat, you on top of her as you both took deep, rapid breaths as your orgasms faded.

"Jesus Christ, woman," Jessie said, unable to open her eyes as exhaustion took over her body in the afterglow of the second climax you gave her. "You're trying to kill me."

She felt you chuckle against her. "A simple 'thank you' would suffice," you teased. Jessie snickered and lazily brought a hand up to absently play with your hair.

You lay there together for several moments in one another's embrace. Jessie still hadn't opened her eyes and was seriously contemplating if a nap was in order before you both heard a far off noise.

You lifted yourself up slightly to peer out the back window and saw a car pulling over.

"Fuck," you hissed as you started to climb off Jessie, not remotely gracefully, honking the car accidentally as you did so and scaring the hell out of each other. "Oh my god," you gasped when Jessie popped out of you and a rush of cum spilled out onto her shorts.

"Fuck's sake!" Jessie exclaimed as she impulsively tried to wipe it away, but just spread it onto her shorts and hands inadvertently. "Oh God."

"They're coming," you hissed again as you were stretched out over the middle console trying to retrieve your pants that Jessie had so haphazardly discarded earlier.

"What the hell," Jessie cursed, her voice high in panic as she held her hands out in indecision before clueing back in and frantically tucking her cock away in her shorts and zipping them up while you scrambled to put on your pants.

She clocked the person nearing in her side mirror. She twisted in her seat to snatch up her hat and lay it flat on her shorts in an attempt to conceal the mess you two made.

You settled in your seat just as the person came up to the window. Jessie opened it and greeted him as normally as she could. From the way her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath and the heat she could feel across her face, she knew it was a lost cause.

The man took one look at you and Jessie, and the realization dawned on his face. He averted his eyes, scratching his temple before looking back at Jessie fleetingly.

"Uh, just saw you were pulled over. Wanted to make sure you folks were okay."

"Uh, yep. We're good," Jessie replied, her voice higher and more strained than she'd hoped.

"Yep. Okay, great," the man said as he began to turn away. "You, uh, both take care now."

"Will do! Thanks!" Jessie replied.

Jessie watched the man leave in the rearview mirror, both of you giving an awkward wave as he drove off. You both sat for a second before exhaling collectively. Jessie's face was beet red, she didn't need to check a mirror to know, but slowly a smile tugged at her lips. She glanced over at you, a blush adorning your cheeks as well. You held each other's gaze for a moment before you both dissolved into laughter.

You smacked Jessie's arm lightly as you gave her a playful glare.

"Hey!" Jessie laughed. "What am I getting in trouble for? You're the one who started this!"

You relented with an impish smirk. "Maybe so." You glanced down at her stained shorts with a nod. "Before we go, let me grab you a new pair of shorts."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #smut fic #jflem #woso smut #wlw smut #g!p

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gghostwriter · 4 months ago

Note

Can I request a Lil fluff with the team (mainly Spence) where the reader had a massive potty mouth (like they're from a country that isn't so harsh about swearing, England, Australia, New Zealand?) But she's all very professional when need be but when talking with the team she's cursing up a storm (maybe the terms "good cunt" and "shit cunt" turn up?

Good cunt means someones great, amazing

Shit cunt meaning well someone's bad) and Spence gets anxious but she reassures him that she's not swearing AT him but more making sure her words hit to where they need to go?

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Friends who Flirt (?) ; Fluff just fluff! w.c: 0.9k Warning: CM violence; citizenship inaccuracies idk A/N: Apologies again that this took a while! I am not from Australia so I had to search up some more slangs to use for this. I hope I did it justice and I had fun writing this, Anon! Thank you for requesting 💗 Main masterlist

Down Under. // Spencer Reid

It wasn’t your fault the Americans didn’t have ‘swearing’ programmed in their DNA. It was although your fault why you ended up in the FBI—receiving looks and eyebrow raises from the team—rather than in a bustling city of your homegrown country in the southern hemisphere, Australia.

But you really couldn’t blame yourself now could you? The idea of giving up your citizenship to be a part of the illustrious BAU was too good to pass up. So you packed your bags, entered the FBI Academy, and passed with flying colors—nearing perfect that David Rossi pulled ranks just to get you in the team even with how green you still were.

“So what do we have?” you asked, rounding into the conference room with Spencer in tow.

“Sadly, my precious koala, we have murder,” Penelope answered with the remote in her hand, flashing the photographs of numerous mutilated bodies. “Jacksonville, Florida reported a series of killings over the past month and it’s not looking pretty. Each victim had been dumped in alley ways and all missing a toe.”

JJ slightly reeled back. “Well, that’s a new type of trophy.”

“It’s not very common,” Spencer backed up. “Jerome Brudos, ‘the Shoe Fetish Slayer’ is the only known serial killer that kept a foot trophy from his first victim. He was only named as such because of his disturbing foot fetish and collection of women’s shoe catalogs that he considered as pornographic material.”

“Ah a shit cunt,” you remarked, making Spencer shift on his seat to look at you with inquiry.

“Y/N,” Emily warned. “Alright, wheels up in thirty.”

———

The case file was too thin for the team’s liking. How was it that a serial killer with five, possibly six, victims under his belt only had a couple of pages on it and with incomplete identifications and no missing or initial reports done.

“Emily, is this it?” Luke waved the slim folder up in the air. “I mean, I know the victims were all homeless but damn. Did they even walk and ask around?”

She sighed. “I called it in and the only reason we were invited is due to the upcoming elections.”

“Bogan coppers are they? Why doesn’t that surprise me at the least,” you scoffed

“Matt and Luke, you’ll visit the last location of the body—” Emily instructed before turning to the rest of the team. “JJ, coordinate with the media to get them to cooperate. Y/N and Reid, talk to the forensics. Rossi and I will settle base at the station.”

A series of hums and agreements echoed throughout the compact jet before settling into a lull.

Spencer shifted on his seat, turning to face you who was busy shifting through the papers. “Hey, in the office you—“ he cleared his throat. “said a phrase, what did it mean?”

You turned slightly, noting his nervous gaze. “You mean ‘shit cunt’?”

He nodded.

“It means someone bad, low life, scum of the earth—wait, you don’t think I meant you, right?”

“What—no, no!” He sighed, having spied your raised eyebrow. “Well, maybe? I didn’t know what it meant so I don’t know.”

You giggled. “Spence, if I was going to describe you it would be—pardon my French, good cunt.”

“For someone so tiny, you sure do curse a lot,” Rossi interjected.

“What can I say, us from down under just have colorful vocabulary,” you shrugged.

———

The team was finally back in home base after five days in the sweltering heat of Florida and you couldn’t feel any more tired than this moment as you waited for your sister to come pick you up. Granted you could taken the last train ride home but you just didn’t trust yourself to not miss your stop plus she volunteered so you hastily agreed—never one to say no.

“I think I’ll wait until your sister arrives for you,” Spencer volunteered, taking your go bag out of your hands.

“I am an FBI agent, Dr. Reid,” you teased. “Perfectly capable of taking care of myself”

“And I don’t disagree! I’ve seen you take down Luke in training and shoot multiple unsubs but you look dead to your feet.”

You blushed, grateful that the night made it less obvious. “So are you my knight in shining armor then?”

He cleared his throat, holding on to your gaze. “I could be.”

You sucked in a breath.

The temperature between you suddenly felt hot. Did that mean what you think it meant? Did that mean he liked you too? You opened your mouth to ask but was interrupted by a car halting to a stop in front of you.

It was your sister, what rotten timing.

“Oh please, stop caking and get in before I get ticketed or better yet make it worth it and just pash already!” She shouted through the rolled down window.

“Caking? Pash?” Spencer repeated.

“Well—I have to go. Thanks for keeping me safe, Spence.”

He stops you on your tracks, holding to your hand. “Wait what do those two words mean?”

You laughed, squeezing his hand in return, and felt a sudden burst of confidence. “Come find me when you figure it out.”

With a wink, you left Spencer dumbfounded and dazed on the sidewalk.

Some notes: Bogan - an uncouth or unsophisticated person Coppers - policemen Caking - flirting Pash - passionate kiss

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer Reid one shot #Spencer Reid oneshot #Spencer Reid fluff #Spencer Reid x fem!reader #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer reid

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serpentandlily · 8 months ago

Text

New Series Preview - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure house and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

Rhysand’s words had played over and over again in his head since the Winter Solstice, three months ago. Azriel wasn't sure why he was taking his shitty advice now but by some will of his own, he was standing in the shadows of the alley across the street from The Labyrinth—Hewn City’s most exclusive brothel.

Azriel only knew of this place because some of the high ranking nobles he spied on talked about it often. It was known for its secrecy, for making sure their clientele had confidentiality. There were far more pleasure houses that were known to the public, even one in Velaris, but the last thing Azriel wanted was word getting around that he had been seen visiting one. Partly because he liked keeping his lover affairs secret, but mostly because he didn’t want to give that satisfaction to Rhysand.

When his shadows came back with no reports of any sightings of faeries nearby, Azriel crossed the distance to The Labyrinth. He knocked five times on the plain looking, unassuming door, following the instructions he had overheard.

A sliding peephole opened revealing a pair of dark eyes. “The bargain, shadowsinger,” a male voice said through the door. “Two coppers for your eyes.”

“A silver for your tongue,” Azriel agreed. He felt a burning sensation behind his ear, the bargain tattoo forming.

This was another thing he had learned from spying— the secret bargain that would grant you access to The Labyrinth. A bargain that he wouldn’t speak of the people and things he might see here so long as they kept their silence in regards to his identity.

The door swung open a second later and the male guard ushered him in.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar

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theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago

Note

Hi again! It’s 🐴

I have a request for youuu. What if there is a spy!reader that has been at blows with spy!Oscar Piastri? They’re enemies that will eventually turn to lovers perhaps? 👀 I do love me a good enemies to lovers trope sometimes.

SKYFALL PT.1 | OP81

an: hello again sugar! oh my god the fun i had so much fun writing this, it's a short series. i wrote it all yesterday when i was on a massive coach trip up to see my friend and i am now in love with spy!oscar piastri RAHHH, i also had to name this skyfall because that's like the trademark song for formula one

wc: 2.5k

The rain was relentless, a steady downpour that washed over the narrow Italian streets, cloaking everything in a hazy mist. The city had always had a certain charm, but tonight it felt like a battlefield. She moved swiftly through the shadows, the collar of her coat pulled up, shielding her from the cold rain. She’d memorised every turn, every alley. There was no room for mistakes tonight.

She approached the dimly lit café, her pulse steady, her mind sharp. This was supposed to be an easy job—retrieve the data, disappear. But in her line of work, things rarely went as planned.

Inside, the familiar hum of quiet conversations filled the air. Tourists sipped espresso, locals lingered over wine. She took a seat by the window, her eyes scanning the room beneath her calm exterior. The contact was late. She hated late.

Just as she began to grow impatient, the door swung open, and he walked in.

Her breath caught in her throat. Him.

Oscar Piastri.

Of all the spies in the world, it had to be him on the same mission as her.

He strode in with that same infuriating confidence, the same icy precision that made her blood boil. His eyes flicked toward her, and for the briefest moment, a spark of recognition passed between them, but his expression remained unreadable. He was good at that—masking every emotion behind that cold, calculating demeanour.

They had a history, and it wasn't a pleasant one. Their agencies had been at odds for years, and every time they crossed paths, it ended in a battle of wits, and occasionally, fists. Oscar represented everything she loathed—arrogance, superiority, and an unnerving calm that made him impossible to shake.

She kept her eyes on him, but her heart raced faster now. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. He was here for the same reason she was. The data. The intel. A mission neither could fail.

Oscar made his way to the counter, seemingly unaware of her presence, but she knew better. He never missed anything. Every move he made was deliberate, every step calculated. When he glanced her way again, their eyes locked, and this time, the tension between them was palpable. It crackled in the air, sharp and electric, drawing a few curious glances from other patrons. It could have been cut with a butter knife.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew.

Of course, he knew.

She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to remain still. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her riled. Not again. Not like last time.

But that smirk. That damn smirk was infuriating.

He slid into a seat at the bar, casually ordering a drink. His back was to her, but she could feel his attention on her, a subtle challenge in the air. They both knew what this meant. Their agencies might have sent them for the same intel, but there was no sharing in their world. It was winner take all.

The only problem? He was as skilled as she was. And maybe, just maybe, he was a little better.

The waitress approached, handing her a folded napkin along with her coffee. She didn’t need to open it to know who it was from. She unfolded the paper carefully, her hands steady despite the irritation bubbling beneath her skin.

"Looks like we’re playing this game again, sweetheart. Try to keep up this time."

Her fingers curled around the napkin, crumpling it as she glanced up at him. Oscar didn’t turn around, but she could sense the amusement radiating off him.

He was baiting her.

This was how it always started between them. A game of cat and mouse. Only neither of them was ever quite sure who was which.

She stood up, throwing a few bills on the table when she noticed her contact. If he wanted a chase, she would give him one. But this time, she wouldn’t let him win. Not again.

She stepped outside, the rain cooling the heat of her frustration. As she disappeared into the night, she could feel his eyes on her back, watching, waiting.

But if Oscar Piastri thought he could outsmart her this time, he was sorely mistaken.

She moved through the rain-slick streets, her mind racing ahead of her. She knew Oscar wouldn’t wait long to make his move. He never did. This was a game they’d played too many times before, and she knew the pattern. He would strike soon—he had to. They were after the same intel, and neither of them could afford to let the other get ahead.

She ducked into a narrow alley, her hand resting lightly on the concealed weapon at her side. Her eyes scanned the rooftops, the windows, anywhere an ambush could come from. Oscar was as subtle as a shadow, but she knew his tricks.

Her ears caught the faintest scrape of a shoe against wet pavement, and she spun around just as a figure emerged from the dark. Oscar, dressed in black, his eyes gleaming under the streetlight’s faint glow.

“Took you long enough,” she called, her voice dripping with challenge.

“I thought I’d give you a head start this time,” he replied smoothly, his deep voice cutting through the rain. He stepped closer, his movements fluid, predatory. “How kind of me, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

She scoffed, her muscles tensing as she prepared for what was coming. Oscar was many things—arrogant, infuriating, dangerous—but slow wasn’t one of them. He’d never given her a head start in his life, and he wasn’t about to now.

The brief moment of stillness stretched between them like the taut string of a bow, tension building, unspoken. Then, without warning, he lunged.

She darted backward, her reflexes sharp, as his fist cut through the air where her face had been seconds ago. He was fast, faster than most, but she was ready. She countered with a sharp kick aimed at his ribs, but Oscar caught her ankle mid-air, twisting just enough to throw her off balance.

Before she could react, he yanked her toward him, spinning her in a blur of motion. Her body twisted through the air, her legs wrapping around his neck as she locked her thighs, using his own strength against him. For a split second, she thought she had the upper hand, feeling his body jerk in surprise as she clung to his shoulders, her weight dragging him downward.

But Oscar was quick to recover. He snarled under his breath, his hands gripping her waist as he spun, using the momentum to slam her back-first into a nearby table of a cafe that most certainly didn’t deserve this. The wooden surface cracked beneath the force of the impact, and pain shot through her spine.

He didn’t stop. His hands were on her throat before she could regain her footing, the pressure cutting off her air as he loomed over her, his expression dark and dangerous. His body was close, too close, and the heat radiating from him only made the fight more intense.

She struggled beneath his grip, her vision swimming as his fingers tightened. She had to admit, he was stronger than she remembered. But she wasn’t going to lose this one.

A wicked grin spread across her lips, even as she gasped for breath.

"Careful, Piastri," she rasped, her voice teasing despite the situation. "If you wanted me on my back, all you had to do was ask."

For a fraction of a second, his grip faltered, his dark eyes narrowing in irritation. That split-second was all she needed.

With a sudden, powerful twist of her hips, She used his distraction to break free, her legs kicking up to hook around his arm. She yanked hard, flipping him off balance and sending him crashing into the ground beside her. She rolled, agile as ever, and landed on top of him, pinning him with her knee pressed firmly into his chest.

Oscar gasped, his chest heaving beneath her weight as she leaned down, her face inches from his.

"Guess I still have the upper hand, sweetheart," she whispered, her tone mocking, breathless, but victorious.

He glared up at her, lips pressed into a thin line as he struggled beneath her, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed a mix of frustration and something else. Something darker, deeper.

But she didn’t linger on the moment. She leaped off him, her body moving like liquid as she darted toward the edge of the alley, knowing she needed to escape before he recovered.

Oscar was strong, but she was faster. He wouldn’t stay down for long, though. They both knew this was far from over.

As she melted into the shadows, her heart pounding, she couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had shifted something between them. The game they’d been playing for years now felt different, more dangerous. The stakes had always been high, but now, there was something else simmering beneath the surface—a heat neither of them was ready to acknowledge.

Not yet, at least.

************************************************************************

The sterile lights of the Mercedes Headquarters flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows on the cold concrete walls. Her footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway as she approached the director’s office, her mind replaying the events of the night. She hadn’t expected to run into Oscar—certainly not like that. And yet, here she was, about to explain why she had come back empty-handed.

Her stomach knotted, not from nerves, but frustration. She’d let him get too close. She’d let him distract her. And now, there would be hell to pay.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door to her boss’s office. The room was dimly lit, with a desk cluttered with files and a single lamp illuminating the figure seated behind it—Director Wolff. He didn’t look up as she entered, but the air around him was heavy with expectation. She had been here before—too many times, honestly—but something about this time felt different.

“Agent,” Wolff said finally, his voice low and gruff, as he finished signing a report and set the pen down with deliberate precision. His piercing blue eyes lifted to meet hers. “I take it you have the intel?”

She stood straighter, her jaw tightening. “No, sir.”

The silence that followed her words was thick, suffocating. Wolff leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him as he regarded her with a look that was both calm and dangerous.

“No?” His voice was soft, too soft, and that made it worse.

She shook her head, holding his gaze. “There was... interference. Agent Piastri showed up. He’s working for—”

“I don’t care who he’s working for.” Wolff’s words cut through hers like a knife. “I care that you don’t have the intel you were sent to retrieve.”

She swallowed hard, knowing there was no good explanation for this. “We fought. He got in my way, and the situation escalated. By the time I—”

Wolff slammed his hand on the desk, making her flinch. “You let him distract you.” His voice was low, but laced with fury. “This isn’t the first time Piastri has interfered with one of your missions, is it?”

She gritted her teeth. “No, sir.”

“And yet, every time you come face to face with him, you come back empty-handed.” Wolff stood, walking around his desk with a measured calm that only added to the tension in the room. His tall frame cast a long shadow as he stopped in front of her. “I’m beginning to wonder if you have a weakness for him, Agent.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Absolutely not. He’s a distraction, but—”

“But nothing,” Wolff snapped. “You’re one of the best agents I’ve got, but lately it seems like Piastri has you off your game. Why is that?” He raised an eyebrow, scrutinising her in a way that made her feel exposed, vulnerable. “Why is it that whenever Agent Piastri shows up, you forget your mission?”

“I didn’t forget my mission.” Her voice was sharper than she intended, but she couldn’t help it. The insinuation that she had been anything but focused stung. “He ambushed me, and it slowed me down. I was going to—”

“You were going to what?” Wolff’s tone dripped with disappointment. “Let him slam you into a table again?” His eyes flicked over her, taking in the faint bruising on her collarbone, the subtle strain in her movements. He knew. Of course, he knew. He always knew. “I heard what happened, Agent. And don’t tell me he caught you off guard, because that’s not an excuse I’ll accept.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, biting back the anger that threatened to bubble over. He made it sound so simple. So black and white. “He’s not just anyone, sir. You know that. He’s trained, just like I am. Better, in some ways. I’m not going to pretend that he doesn’t—”

“Better?” Wolff cut her off, his voice rising for the first time. “If he’s better, it’s because you let him be. He knows how to push your buttons. That’s his strength. And you let him. Again and again, you let him get into your head.”

She winced. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know this. Oscar had a way of playing with her, of winding her up, of distracting her just enough to gain the upper hand. And she hated him for it. But more than that, she hated that Director Wolff was right.

“I didn’t let him,” she said, her voice quieter now, more controlled. “But I underestimated him. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” Wolff said, his eyes hard. He moved back to his desk, leaning on it as he folded his arms. “Because next time, if you fail to retrieve the intel because of him, I won’t be so forgiving. This is your last warning, Agent. I expect results. Not excuses. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” She said, swallowing her pride. She couldn’t afford to push back. Not now.

“Good.” He didn’t soften, didn’t let her off the hook. Instead, he straightened and looked down at her with a calculating gaze. “We have a mission coming up. A big one. I was considering putting you on the team, but if you’re going to let Piastri get the better of you again, I’ll reconsider.”

“I won’t,” she said firmly, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. “I’ll handle him.”

“You’d better,” Wolff said, his tone cold. “Because if you don’t, someone else will. And I won’t be as concerned about what happens to him—or you—next time.”

She stood there for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. Wolff wasn’t bluffing. If she didn’t prove herself, if she let Oscar interfere again, her career could be over. And worse, the agency wouldn’t hesitate to take out both of them if they became a liability.

She turned to leave, her thoughts a whirlwind of frustration, anger, and something else. Something that gnawed at the edges of her mind, though she refused to acknowledge it.

Oscar.

He’d been under her skin for too long, and now, it was affecting her missions. That couldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t let it.

But even as she left Wolff’s office, her heart still pounding from the confrontation, a small part of her wondered if it was already too late. Oscar Piastri wasn’t just an enemy anymore. He was something far more dangerous.

And she had to figure out how to beat him, before he beat her.

part two

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year ago

Text

What is Broken I (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, some pushing and hitting

Author's Note: It's finally here! Sorry y'all, this month a) I found out my dog has terminal cancer, b) I got covid, and c) my laptop randomly went kaput in the middle of an episode of the West Wing. But it's finally here! As it says on the taglist, this will be a three-part series.

Taglist is done via reblogs

Series Masterlist

What is Broken

It was a lovely night in King’s Landing.

There was not a cloud to be seen for miles, and the stars were bright and twinkling. The waters of Blackwater Bay were calm and reflected the full moon as clearly as a freshly polished mirror. Even the wind seemed in a pleasant mood, carrying the sweet scent of spring on its back as it drifted lazily through the windows of the Red Keep.

Every bit of it grated on her heart like a whetstone across dull steel.

The worst night of one’s life should not be so lovely, she thought. It should be terrible. With storms and an angry sea, and perhaps even a raging fire somewhere in the distance.

If the night had been so, she would not have seen it when, only a few moments ago, a massive winged form landed in the fields just outside the city with a lowing wail, the last person she wanted to see strapped to its back. Thankfully, Aemond was far enough away that she could not make him out against the mass of his mount.

The people would cheer him in the streets as he rode toward the castle. The victorious Prince, returning after long months at war, having not only ended the war itself but avenged the deaths of his eldest sister, brother, and his little nieces and nephews.

Daemon Targaryen and his dragon had perished above the God’s Eye, the waters below boiling when their bodies fell into its depths.

With the Rogue Prince gone, the war was swiftly over. Rhaenyra was killed, her last remaining son taken as King Aegon’s ward, and the royal host returned to King’s Landing victorious. Even Cregan Stark had agreed to halt his advance South, redirecting to Harrenhal for peace talks.

Harrenhal. A cursed place, now to be the site of great diplomacy.

Even thinking about the horrible castle was enough to turn her stomach.

A letter detailing exactly what had occurred within those melted stone halls during the war, written by the late Prince Daemon himself, sat on her vanity. A final act of retribution against his soon-to-be killer.

She knew that her husband was only returning home because of the letter.

My dear Princess, Despite the conflict between our sides of the family, I have always thought you a rather sweet girl. Therefore, it is with the deepest regret that I must now shoulder the burden of informing you of your beloved husband’s improper conduct during this awful conflict…

A pang of nausea shot through her stomach as she remembered the words.

A mistress… some Strong bastard… called Alys, my spies tell me… every night, without fail… from the very first week… another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb…

There was a pounding from within her, soft thumps and kicks as the life inside her own womb became unsettled by its mother’s roiling emotions. She laid a hand over her belly, whispering soothing words she did not believe to try and calm it – and herself.

Once, she would never have believed Daemon’s stories. But then word came that, after the final battle, Aemond returned to Harrenhal for less than an hour before he again mounted Vhagar and flew for King’s Landing. It was not like Aemond to make such swift decisions. Nor did it strike her as the action of an innocent man.

When she called for Ser Willis Fell, her heart had been filled with hope that the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would dispel her worries. That she had only allowed herself to consider the possibility of Aemond’s infidelity because her mind was addled by her delicate condition.

“My princess, I cannot, in good conscience, tell you a lie…”

She had screamed then. And cried. And possibly thrown things at the Kingsguard, but she couldn’t entirely remember.

All she could remember was how Aemond kissed her on the day he left for Harrenhal. Deeply and passionately. Until she could feel his love for her as clearly as her own heartbeat. Then he knelt before her and placed a single, tender kiss to her belly, to where they had only just learned that their babe grew.

Less than a moon’s turn later, he had taken another woman to his bed, and seeded her, too.

Now he was returning home – in haste.

He knew, then. That Daemon had let slip his secret. Perhaps it had even been the Rogue Prince’s last words. Spat in Aemond’s face in the seconds before his body tumbled into the lake below. Had she not been caught in the crossfire, she might have admired it for the masterful manipulation it was.

But in seeking to destroy Aemond, Daemon had destroyed her as well.

She was broken from her thoughts by the distant sound of people cheering. Aemond was making his way through the city more quickly than she thought. The streets weren’t as crowded as she hoped they would be this late at night.

It was late. Far later than she had become accustomed to. These days, she was often in bed and asleep not long after the sun had set, hoping that she would somehow find a full night’s sleep. Never to any avail.

For a moment, she thought of slipping beneath the blankets and pretending to be asleep so she would not have to speak to Aemond until the morning. But he would only crawl into bed with her, and then he would see when she inevitably woke…

That was not a conversation she wanted to have today. Really, there was no conversation she wanted to have with Aemond, only that which must be had.

She was resolved that Aemond would not find her weeping or stewing in heartbreak. No, she would not let him think he held such power over her, even if he did. He always had, even when they were young children.

So, she resumed her nightly routine as though nothing was wrong, as if she was entirely unaffected by his betrayal. Sitting at her vanity, she began to unbraid her hair. Her maids usually did it for her, but she had dismissed them the moment she read Daemon’s letter, not wanting to see their pitying faces for longer than she had to.

Since learning she was with child, everyone – including her maids – fussed over her constantly. It was not without reason, she knew. There was indeed very good reason why everyone was so concerned about her. But after six months, she was tired of it.

Just the simple act of taking her braids out and brushing through her loose hair by herself brought a welcome feeling of independence that she had not felt in some time. Perhaps ever.

That feeling slowly faded away as the cheering and celebration from the city came closer and closer, until she could hear gauntleted hands clapping in the castle courtyard below.

Aemond was here.

Her hand fell to cradle her stomach and was immediately met by three quick thumps against her palm. She knew the child did not understand what was happening and was only responding to the touch itself, much in the same way a cat arches its back when petted.

Still, it comforted her. It made her feel like she was not alone.

“Kirimvossi, rūhossas,” she whispered with a smile before resuming brushing her hair.

Her smile did not last.

Sooner than she had hoped, she heard the clanking of armor as the guards outside her door straightened, bowed, then retreated.

A shiver went through her, stealing the air from her chest while cold gathered in her heart and began sinking to her stomach. Dragging her brush through her hair suddenly took great effort, as did every breath.

Yet it was surprisingly easy to banish the tears forming in her eyes and school her face into tired neutrality. To glance only once at the figure now lingering in the doorway before turning away without acknowledging him.

She did not know if it was strength or cowardice.

He called her name, his voice rasping and low – desperate. “We must speak.”

She did not respond. She didn’t even look at him.

Aemond sighed, calling her name again. “Please, my love. Look at me.”

Still, she did not move.

“Ābrazȳrītsos,” he said, a hint of command slipping into his plea. Little wife.

He had always loved calling her little. According to their mother, the first thing Aemond did when he saw her as a babe was exclaim, “She’s so little!”

Ever since, he’d been calling her little.

First, she was simply hāedus. Little sister.

Whenever she tried to follow Aemond when he went somewhere she wasn’t allowed or did something she wasn’t allowed to do, he would gently scold her, “Haedus, you’re too little.” Inevitably, she would cry. About half the time, her crying was enough to sway him.

Then, she became zaldrīzītsos. Little dragon.

“You’re my zaldrīzītsos,” he would say when she hugged him tightly after Aegon or one of the Strong boys mocked him for not having a dragon. She didn’t have one either, but she never felt she needed one, for she had Aemond.

For a time, she was maegītsos. Little witch.

Aemond had dubbed her so when she came to visit him in the Maester’s tower while he recovered from the loss of his eye. The Maester would give her some “special leaves” so she could brew a “magic potion” to help Aemond get better. In truth, the potion was simply tea. But Aemond always pretended that the potion had indeed worked miracles, just to make her happy.

Once he was healed, she was again zaldrīzītsos.

Since he finally had a true dragon, she worried that he would not want her anymore. When she came to him in tears one day as he was leaving the Keep to see Vhagar, he hugged her tightly and told her, “You will always be my zaldrīzītsos.” Then he brought her with him to ride Vhagar. It was the best day of her life.

Or it was, until the day they were officially betrothed, and she became raqiarzītsos. Little darling.

It was what he would call her every morning when he greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek. How he would summon her to his side at court events. What he moaned when they kissed unchastely each evening before saying goodnight.

She had been so excited when she became his ‘ābrazȳrītsos.’ The first time he had whispered it in her ear at the wedding feast, she’d blushed so brightly that their grandsire inquired about her health. The next time he said it, Aemond made sure they were alone.

Little sister. Little dragon. Little witch. Little darling. Little wife.

Always little.

Once, the names had made her heart flutter with delight. Now, they only prompted another wave of nausea.

Aemond was everything to her – he always had been. She thought he felt the same way, but it seemed she was wrong. To him, she was just “little.”

She flinched at the sound of his voice, of that word. How he spoke to her like she was some frightened animal poised to lash out.

Yet at the same time, her heart melted to hear the voice she loved so dearly after so long an absence. Merely the sight of him in the mirror sent a feeling of warmth and belonging flooding through her.

She hated him.

She loved him.

She was angrier at him than she had ever been in her life.

She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

She could do nothing but continue to brush her hair and stare into her reflection.

Aemond sighed, finally stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. “You won’t even look at me, ābrazȳrītsos?”

She gave no answer.

He whispered her name again, “Abrazȳrītsos, please,” Aemond’s voice turned quiet as he reached her and set a hand on her shoulder as if to turn her around by force, but she wrenched herself out of his grip, staring down at the floor. Though she did not look at him, she could almost feel the misery on his face. “Please look at me.”

“If I look at you, I fear I will be sick,” she explained weakly. “I don’t want to harm the babe.”

His irritation began to surge, she knew it even without seeing him. His breathing quickened slightly, and she could hear the creaking of leather as he rolled his shoulders and balled his hands into fists – he had been so hurried he had not yet taken off his riding gloves.

“You are my wife,” he huffed. She could hear him attempt to contain the sharp edge of barely contained anger in his soft voice. At least he was considerate enough to hide it. “You are my sister – my blood. You love me as I love you, and you carry my child within you. Yet you cannot even look at me?”

Fury roared to life like a surging flame within her. How dare he be angry with her when he is the one who ruined everything?

“Why did you come back?” she spat back, quietly yet viciously.

His stare continued to weigh on her through the mirror. “I promised you the day I left that I would return to you when the war was done,” he said, half-smiling at the memory. “The war is over, so here I am.”

She shook her head. “The war is not over.”

“Of course, it is. Daemon and Rhaenyra are dead, and – ”

“The fighting is over,” she corrected. “But the war is not finished. Peace must still be brokered. As Prince Regent, that is your responsibility. Yet you are here rather than with the rest of the soldiers and politicians at Harrenhal. Why?”

She wanted him to be the one to say it.

Aemond sighed, raising a hand to touch her, then pulling away. “Is it so hard to believe that I missed you and simply couldn’t stand to stay away a moment longer?”

She was moving before she could process what she was doing, standing from the vanity and turning to face Aemond, her hand raised and ready to strike.

But he caught her arm by the wrist, stopping her moments before her palm could impact his cheek – his scarred cheek. His eye was wide, filled with sadness and shock in equal measure. He turned to look at her hand as if it was some kind of curiosity he had never seen before, like he couldn’t understand how it could ever be raised against him.

Tears were spilling down her cheeks when he turned back to her, and his expression gave over entirely to despair. Aemond opened his mouth, but words failed him.

He lowered her hand gently, bowing his head slightly to the right to give her an easier target.

It broke something within her.

She dove toward him, wrapping her arms around him as she cried into his chest, clinging to him as if he were her the only thing keeping her anchored to the ground.

But the moment Aemond moved to return the embrace, she shoved him away. It only moved him a step back, still within her reach. He did not move closer, and when she began to pound her fists furiously against his chest, he didn’t try to stop her.

“Why did you come back?” she demanded as she pushed him once more. “Why did you not just stay in Harrenhal with your whore and leave us alone?”

Aemond did not respond. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing. He could do nothing but stare at her, his eye flitting between her belly, where his child had grown –so much he could hardly believe it – in his absence, to her eyes.

Those eyes. A warm, rich brown that shone with gold in the firelight. It was Aemond’s favorite color. For whenever he saw it, in her eyes or their mother’s, he knew he was home.

But now those eyes he loved so dearly were filled with tears of his own making. He wanted nothing more than to see them dry and sparkling with love once more.

“Abrazȳrītsos, you must know I will always return to you,” he begged, stepping forward and cautiously placing a hand on her belly. Almost immediately, he felt a stirring within her, and a weak pushing against him.

His child.

Was it reaching for him, or pushing him away?

Before he could truly ponder either answer, his wife pulled away from him, her arms curling protectively around her abdomen.

He had to say something. Something to take her pain away, to make everything well again so he would have the chance to hold her and the babe. Even if it was a lie, he would say it if it made her forgive him.

“Raqiarzītsos,” he started, only for her to take another step away and scowl at him. He sighed as the realization of how deeply had hurt her truly sunk in. He softly called her name, “My love, it was one mistake. One moment of weakness, I swear –”

“Liar!” Her voice had grown rough with her fury, and Aemond flinched at the sound. He had never heard her shout like that, not even when she was a babe herself.

She saw his discomfort and reveled in it. Seeing him suffer a fraction of what she felt gave her a sinful spark of joy, one that she felt no need to beg forgiveness from the Seven for. She turned away from him and retrieved the letter from Daemon, panting as she looked over the words once more.

“A mistress now lies in your husband’s bed. She was a wetnurse at Harrenhal, some Strong bastard. She must be something truly special, for she is the only Strong – trueborn or bastard – to have survived Aemond’s rather thorough purging of the bloodline. I suppose it is now clear why. I have not been able to learn much about her. She is called Alys, my spies tell me.”

With smoldering eyes, she turned to Aemond and began to read aloud. “She reports to your husband’s chambers every night without fail, as she has done from the very first week he arrived at that cursed place. One of my spies even reported that he calls her to him after each battle or razing of some poor Riverlanders, as well as anytime he feels frustrated. It is no surprise, then, that there is another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb. Your brothers do have a fondness for seeding unsuitable women, don’t they?”

When she looked up from the letter, she found Aemond’s face set in anger, his fingers curled as though they were aching to grip his sword and run someone through. His eye flew from the letter to her face, the rage burning there only softening for a moment.

The left corner of Aemond’s mouth twitched upward involuntarily, and he jerked his head to the side to try and hide it. “You would believe Daemon’s word over mine, abrazȳrītsos? After all he has done?”

She let the letter drift back to the table. “If all I had was his word, I would not have believed it,” she explained. “But it is not only his word.”

Aemond exhaled slowly, looking away from her. Incensed as he was, he would not make her the target of his ire. Never her. “Will you tell me who else?”

“No,” she answered, shaking her head slightly. There was a dark glint in his eye that promised violent retribution upon whoever she would name. No one deserved torture, or perhaps even death, for telling the truth.

With a nod, Aemond closed his eyes and bowed his head. He would not press her further, though she knew he would likely still try to find out who it was by other means. But in that moment, she could not bring herself to care.

She was so tired.

She had anticipated a long fight, and thought she was ready for it. In the hours she waited for Aemond’s return, she had carefully tended the spark of her anger so it would burn only when she commanded. But the moment she saw him, it escaped her grasp and became a wildfire in a dry grassland. It was fierce, quick, and lethal. In an instant, it had consumed every bit of her strength, leaving only the barest smoldering remains in its wake.

After a few more silent moments, Aemond again opened his eyes and looked down at his wife.

“I will not insult your intelligence by trying to deny it any further,” he said, clenching his fist to stop himself from reaching for her, “and I know there is nothing I can say to excuse what I have done. But my love, I truly am sorry. For what I did, and for the hurt I have caused you.”

She stared at him, trying to detect and hint of insincerity. She found none.

“I love you. I know I have given you ample reason to doubt that but…” he swallowed thickly. “I do love you, abrazȳrītsos. I always have and I always will. I know in my heart that the gods made us for each other. And if they had fated us to others, I swear I would have defied their will and ripped them from the heavens so that I could love you.”

He licked his lips and removed his gloves before offering her his shaking hand.

Perhaps it was the result of the weariness pervading her entire being. Perhaps it was the tug of an unborn babe reaching out, somehow knowing its father was near. Perhaps it was the sliver of her soul that had always belonged to Aemond beckoning her to rejoin him and become whole again.

Whatever the reason, despite the protestations of her aching heart and her rational mind, she put her hand in his.

It did not fit as well as it used to.

If Aemond noticed, he did not acknowledge it. He raised their joined hands to his lips to kiss before resuming his plea. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I will understand if you do not give it, but for the sake of my heart and the love we share, I must ask it. Abrazȳrītsos, can you ever forgive me?”

The world fell silent, and so did she.

If she focused, she could hear her heartbeat, along with two others, thumping out three different rhythms. It was discordant, yet somehow comforting. She listened to it for a moment, trying to hear a melody within it. But there was nothing.

She turned her attention to her hand in Aemond’s grasp. There was a welcome heat where his skin touched hers, but also a tingling numbness. A slight discomfort, akin to wearing new gloves before they had softened and molded to her hands.

Then, she looked at Aemond. At the face that was more familiar to her than her own. It had changed in the last six months – more so than she would have expected. The color of his skin had deepened from so many days spent in the sun, and there were new blemishes that had not been there before. The shadows under his eyes, the roughness where it once was smooth, and the new smudge of a scar above the corner of his right brow.

All of it was strange. Known, yet unknown. Question, but no answer.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“What…” Aemond’s lip quirked again as he cupped her cheek with his free hand. “I don’t understand, what don’t you know, my love?”

She winced slightly at the foreign sensation of his hand against her skin. He had callouses now he didn’t have before. “I don’t know how to forgive you, or if I even want to. I just feel… tired.”

Aemond nodded, bowing his head once more to hide the disappointment he could not keep from his face, and looked at her belly. “Of course, you are tired,” he said, “I am sorry, I did not consider how late it was.”

She caught his eye flicking towards the bed – their bed, or at least, it used to be. A cold coil of panic began to wrap itself around her heart. He could not sleep here. He could not see…

“I would prefer if you slept elsewhere,” she said hastily before he could ask otherwise. “For tonight, I would like to be alone.”

Tears shone in Aemond’s eye for a moment, but he did not let them fall. He gave her a tight smile and again kissed her hand. “If that is what you wish, I will obey, but may I ask one thing?”

It would be foolish to say yes. Foolish to give him the opportunity to persuade her at all when she knew how easily he had always been able to sway her with his sweet words. Foolish to do anything but send him away immediately.

And yet…

“What would you ask?” she whispered, betrayed by the foolish little part of her heart and soul that was still and would always be his ‘hāedus.’

“I ask only for a few moments, and then I will leave, as you wish. But it has been half a year, abrazȳrītsos, since I have seen you, or heard your voice, or held you in my arms.” He squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to his face, open and earnest and pleading. “So for only a few moments, please, allow me to hold you again.”

His softly spoken words were like a siren’s song, and she began to feel faint as she struggled to resist falling under its spell. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, begging her mind to calm and think clearly.

“I promise, I will do nothing more than hold you,” he said, running his hand delicately over her cheek. “I just want to hold my wife.”

He did not deserve it, she knew. Nor did he deserve to be touching her as he did now, though she did not push him away. He did not even deserve her consideration of his request.

But it had been half a year for her, too.

Half a year with no one to kiss her good morning or good night. No one to carry her to bed when her legs and back ached. No one to hold her hair and whisper soothing words when she was sick.

She’d had her mother, her sister, and her maids. Even a Maester, at one very low point. But that was not the same. It was not the touch of a beloved husband.

Despite her anger, she was aching to be held by him.

“Just for a few moments,” she whispered through trembling lips. “Then you must leave.”

She did not have time to regret her decision before Aemond pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead as he thanked her. And before she could pull away, he was turning her slowly, so her back was pressed flush against his chest.

“It’s alright,” he assured her when she made a soft noise of confusion. “Trust me, abrazȳrītsos.”

His hands skated down her arms, his touch featherlight and yet searing. She gasped as he began to cradle her belly, her head lolling back into his shoulder. If given one more breath, she would have pushed him away, but then…

He laced his fingers together and took the weight of her belly into his own arms.

It was a rapturous feeling, to have the burden of it lifted from her and her eternally aching spine, even for a moment. She sighed in relief and leaned back further into her husband. Gratitude flooded through her, and her hands flew to rest over his.

“Oh, Aemond,” she breathed into his neck.

Gods, she had missed him so much. Everything would have been so much easier if he’d been here to hold her like this. He had always known been able to help her, she should have known that even with their first child, he would somehow know what to do…

Her eyes snapped open, and her blood ran cold.

This was their first child, but it was not Aemond’s only child.

He had another, far away, within a different mother. A mother whom he had been there for as she grew, Who, thanks to her role as a wetnurse, would be able to teach him exactly how to help.

“Did you hold Alys like this?”

Aemond stiffened behind her, and his grip tightened. “Abrazȳrītsos…”

“Don’t lie to me, Aemond. Not anymore.”

Silence, then…

“Yes, I did.”

She seized his hands and ripped them apart, tearing herself out of his grasp as quickly as she could, heedless of him reaching for her. Stumbling, she crossed the room before turning back to him, eyes blazing through new tears.

“Do not ever touch me like you touched her,” she spat. Her rage had reignited, the barren grassland now an endless field of flame.

Aemond’s mouth hung open as he looked to her in despair, his arms held helplessly in front of him. His voice broke as he said her name – a plea. “I just wanted to hold you. To help you.”

“And you did. For a few moments, just as you asked. Now leave, as you promised.”

He was looking at her like she was a wild beast, primed to lash out should he make one wrong move. But she didn’t mind, for that was exactly what she felt like. He had made her feel that way, and she hated him for it.

Aemond just stood there, and she could see his mind working desperately to figure out what to say to placate her. She would not give him the chance.

“Leave!” she screamed, her voice ripping its way out of her throat, burning as it went. She could not help but wonder if that was what dragons felt when they breathed fire.

Lowering his arms, Aemond nodded. “I will leave, abrazȳrītsos. Just as I promised. I am sorry.”

“I don’t care.” She meant it. His apology meant absolutely nothing to her raging, broken heart.

She watched him carefully as he turned and walked through the door, ready to rage at him again if she needed to. Perhaps she would actually breathe fire the next time.

Aemond did not try anything to soothe her or convince her to change her mind. The warrior prince knew when a battle was lost. But she knew he had not yet ceded the war.

That much was clear when he paused in the doorway, looking back at her in determination. “I love you, abrazȳrītsos, and nothing will ever change that.”

Then he closed the door, and was gone.

But she could not stop crying, for she knew he would return.

Worse, she knew that as angry as she was, she loved him, too. And nothing would ever change that, either.

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danikamariewrites · 11 months ago

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I absolutely adore and love your housewife Feysand series, it’s so good rishshdkdbdkck

I propose an idea, even though reader is usually always at home/Velaris, what if they got kidnapped??? And reader gets injured and Feysand go INSANE trying to find them and it’s just angsty hehehehehe BONUS POINTS if it’s just fluff and overprotective central once they rescue and find reader

Gone Girl

Feysand x reader

A/n: thank you anon! I love this little series and I’m so glad others are enjoying it

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, injuries, eventual fluff

As Feyre walked home, hand in hand with Nyx, she couldn’t help but go over today’s events. She hadn’t seen you since this morning. Which isn’t unusual but occasionally you’d pop in to say to her and Rhys while they worked.

Maybe your brunch with Mor had run longer than you thought it would? But you would’ve let them know you weren’t going to pick Nyx up from school. You always pick Nyx up from school.

As the pair entered the house Feyre saw Mor pacing in the living room. Worry on her face as she bit at her perfect nails.

Feyre crouched down in front of Nyx, giving the sweet boy a small smile. “Uncle Cass is in the kitchen, go ask him to help you with your after school snack.” The boy nodded excitedly, his floppy black hair swishing with his movements. “Ok mommy.” He gave Feyre a quick kiss on the cheek before running off to get the most unhealthy snack his uncle could find him.

Making her way over to Mor, Feyre tilted her head curiously. She took Mor’s hands before asking, “What is it?” “Y/n didn’t come to brunch. I haven’t seen her all day.” Feyre’s heart sank into her stomach. A moment later Azriel came bursting through the front door like a mad man. His shadows frantic as he yelled for his brother. “Rhys! Rhys we have a problem!”

Before Azriel could make his way up the stairs Feyre winnowed in front of him. Her hands pushed against his chest as the sapphire siphons flared, the only annoyance he showed at being bared from Rhys. When he realized Feyre was in front of Azriel pulled his High Lady up the stairs to the High Lords office.

Rhys jumped up from his chair as Azriel slammed the door. His still panicked demeanor scaring the pair. “Azriel what’s going on?” Feyre asked desperately. The spymaster got right to the point. “Y/n has been taken. A rival camp to Windhaven has reported rogue members, they think the group of males took her. A few of my spies noticed them in the city not well disguised.”

Feyre let out a cry, covering her mouth. Silver lined her eyes as Rhys held her up. He pressed his face to her head giving her a small, reassuring kiss. Rhys took a deep breath. “Do you know where she is?” Rhys asked darkly. Azriel was sure everyone in the house could feel the dark power emanating from the High Lord. “I will soon.” Azriel quickly left before the moment could turn personal. Giving the couple space.

Hours later Azriel reported that the four males had taken you to an abandoned village at the edge of the mountains. It was the dead of winter, you must be freezing. That made Rhys and Feyre even angrier. You were raised in the Summer Court you can’t handle the cold of Illyria.

Rhys didn’t want this done quietly. He wanted to make his presence known. These moronic males took what was the High Lord and Lady’s and they would pay dearly for it.

Winnowing to the center of the abandoned village Rhys, Feyre, Az, Cass, and Mor stood back to back in a circle. Weapons raised, their eyes scanned the dilapidated homes. Wind and snow whipped around the group making in almost impossible to see their surroundings. Azriel sent his shadows out in all directions. Minutes later one returned swirling frantically as it relayed information to its master. He whistled and nodded in the direction the shadow came from.

Rhys and Feyre were the first to move. As they walked ahead the raging snow storm seemed to part for them. Like it was afraid of their wrath.

——

The cabin was freezing. Your body was aching from shivering for hours on end. You try to pull at the ropes around your wrists but your arms were too weak to move. It felt like you were frozen in place.

The four males that had taken you from Velaris were huddled near the front door. Now that they weren’t looking you allowed yourself to wince at the pain rushing through your right cheek. One of the males had backhanded you so hard it left a large bruise and cut from just below your temple to your cheek.

You hadn’t said a single word to them when you came to. You just sat slightly slumped in the rickety chair they tied you to. You kept your face blank, not giving them the satisfaction of a reaction or screaming and pleading with them.

When you had first woken up you tried to reach out to Rhys and Feyre. They were too far so your connection to them was nonexistent. You had prayed to the Mother that your friends and family noticed you missing. Prayed that Mor thought it was weird you didn’t show up to brunch. And Nyx! Poor Nyx must’ve been so sad when you didn’t pick him up from school.

Tears started to blur your vision as you thought about your little boy. Would you ever see him again?

Before the sob building in your throat could leave your lips the sound of the front door splintering filled your ears. You ducked your head, hissing at how stiff your neck felt.

You didn’t have to look at who was beating your captors. You could feel their presence. You’d know them anywhere.

Screwing your eyes shut you waited for the chaos to be over. You heard snow and wood crunch under extra footsteps as the males are hauled away.

A warm hand caresses your unharmed cheek. “Y/n,” a small voice says tentatively. You slowly look up at your loves. The tears you were trying to hold back falling as you give them a tight lipped smile. “You came.” Your voice raspy from not being used. “Of course we did.” Rhys said, kneeling in front of you.

With a snap of his fingers you were free from the ropes. You slipped off the chair into Rhys’s embrace. He held your shivering body tight as Feyre winnowed the three of you back to the River House. Madja was waiting upstairs in the bedroom with an apprentice to check you over.

Once she was done you slept for hours. You were still trembling from the cold which Madja had informed them was normal. You should be fine by morning as long as the fire kept going. Feyre sat with you first while Rhys went to be with Nyx.

Nyx had begged his father to see you. The little boy didn’t understand why they brought you home in tears. He kept trying to sneak away from Rhys so he could see you. “I just want to cuddle with mom!” He had yelled and stomped when he was told no.

Rhys and Feyre had switched before Nyx’s bedtime. When Feyre came downstairs Nyx was sitting on the couch, a devious look on his face with his arms crossed. Feyre copied her son with a small chuckle as she faced him down. “I’m not going to bed until I see mom.”

She sat next to him with a sigh. “You’re not seeing mom tonight, baby.” Nyx let out a little hmph and leaned back. His little wings flaring behind him. By nine he was passed out and moved to his own bed.

——

Blinking your eyes open the bright morning sun caught you off guard. You thought it was nighttime. You slowly sit up against the headboard rolling out your stiff joints. Looking around you see Feyre and Rhys asleep leaning on each other at the end of the bed.

You tug on the duvet hard enough to wake them and they jolt whipping their heads around. You cover your mouth to stifle your laugh. Their eyes snap to you and relief floods their faces. They scramble to sit on either side of you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Sweetheart we were so worried.” “Are you ok? Do you need anything? Water, food, anything?” They continued their onslaught of questions until you pulled away from them.

“I’m fine. Maybe some breakfast and water. But I feel fine.” Rhys looked at you with an assessing gaze. “You’re sure?” You nod at him with a small smile. “I’ll get you some food.” Rhys gives you a kiss before leaving. You turn to look at Feyre.

She stares at you with watery eyes. Her finger gently traces around your cut. You could see the hurt in her eyes. She felt guilty for not getting to you sooner. You grabbed her hand kissing her fingers softly. “I love you, so much.” She whispered. “I love you too. Thank you, for coming to rescue me.” Feyre leaned her forehead against yours. “I’d burn down the world to find you.” Her warm lips pressed against yours in a soft kiss.

When Rhys came back Nyx was following him, holding back his excitement to see you. Before climbing on the bed he gave his father a look that asked for permission. As soon as Rhys nodded Nyx climbed up on the bed snuggling into your chest.

You felt Rhys caress your mental shields before letting him in. “Feyre meant it. We’d burn the world down if it meant you were safe in our arms.” “I know Rhys. And I love you both for it.” “You know you’re never leaving our sight again, right?” You mentally and physically roll your eyes at him. It was going to be a long time before you left the house without an escort soon.

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burstfoot · 1 year ago

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Figured I'd make a post outlining Arknights' auxiliary material for those who want to see more of the universe and aren't aware of all that's out there! ANIMATION Arknights Prelude To Dawn (S1) and Perish in Frost (S2, currently airing): [Crunchyroll]

A straight up adapation of the main story, up through Chapter 0 to Chapter 6! It's much more fast-paced than the story, so I wouldn't use it to replace actually reading it, but it's very cool to see some of these scenes in full animation. Lee's Detective Agency: (Youtube)

A mini-series animated in a chibi-style with a comedic tone focused on the adventures of the Kuroblood-illustrated Lee's Detective Agency! Distributed by Crunchyroll globally, but entirely free to watch.

Closure's Secret Files: (Youtube)

A cut-out styled series of shorts hosted by Closure which outlines a lot of the game's basic mechanics!

Holy Knight Light: [Youtube]

A short Youtube OVA focusing around Penguin Logistics delivering a package, celebrating Arknights' first anniversary!

[Upcoming]: Kay's Daily Doodles: (Twitter Annoucement)

Another free youtube mini-series that starts airing December 1st, focused around Ceobe! Here's some additional animations! Each event usually also has a 15 second 2D animated preview of the event, but there's so many of those that I can't list them all. Official Anniversary Event 3D Animations: Lone Trail Where Vernal Winds Will Never Blow Il Siracusano Ideal City Stultifera Navis Invitation To Wine Near Light Dossoles Holiday Under Tides Bonus 3D Animated Shorts: Legend of Chongyue Arknights Special - IL Siracusano Lo Scontro Youtube Shorts: Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 1 Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 2 Amiya's Siracusan Food Guide Part 1 Amiya's Siracusano Food Guide Part 2

Comics, Manga, Manhua

Officially Translated Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Rhine Lab: (Offical Website)

A canon manhua centered around the circumstances that lead to Silence falling out with Saria and joining Rhodes Island with Ifrit, as well as Ifrit's attempt to save a dying infected stowaway on the landship. Essential reading for understanding the Rhine Lab storyline and characters - read it right after Mansfield! One of the characters, Darya, is mentioned in both Ifrit's module and briefly in Lone Trail.

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Blacksteel: (Official Source)

A short story focusing on the lives of the Blacksteel operators aboard the landship. While it often gets overshadowed by the Rhine Lab manga which is bigger in scope, this is a great read especially if you're interested in Franka or Liskarm.

Rhodes Kitchen -TIDBITS-: (Official Source)

An anthology story related to the cuisine that's important to a variety of operators. While it might seem unassuming, the art is gorgeous and it's really well-written. I particularly recommend the Goldenglow (Chapter 4) and Rosa (Chapter 5) chapters.

Unofficially Translated

Arknights Comic Anthology: (Mangadex)

As the title says, a series of non-canon anthology stories regarding the cast of Rhodes' Island! Note that the link provided only has complete translations up to Volume 4 (and Vol. 4 is missing Ch. 7), and most of the chapters avaliable after that point were MTL'd, so I can't vouch for their accuracy. Chapters I'd recommend are: Volume 1: Chapter 12 (focused on Myrrh trying to improve her medicine), Chapter 14 (focused on Saria and Silence trying to put apart their differences to take Ifrit on vacation, afaik the only place where they are directly referred to as her "moms") Volume 2: Chapter 1 (Manticore tries to make friends), Chapter 3 (The LGD gets drunk), Chapter 11 (Texlapp and Mosexu yuribait), Ch. 13 (Magallan tries to find a pet), Chapter 16 (Ethan spies on the interior lives of Rhodes operators) Volume 3: Chapter 6 (Snowsant, Ifrit, Nian and Shaw are forced to make friends), Chapter 7 (Gummy flashes back to Chernobog), Chapter 10 (FEater and Shaw yuribait), Chapter 13 (Blackout on the landship, as well as Ayerscarpe and Leonhardt yaoibait)

Volume 4: Chapter 4 (Thorns tries to make friends with Weedy [this one is my favourite]), Chapter 6 (Tomimi tail spankings), Chapter 9 (Elysium helps Frostleaf get along with Dur-Nar) Volume 6: Ch. 1 (Whisperain opens up to others) [this one isn't MTL'd afaik]

123 Rhodes Island: (Mangadex)

A series of non-canon gag 4komas! Many of the games' offical stickers are done in this series' art style.

Arknights: Operators!: (Mangadex)

A compilation of 4komas posted on the official ArknightsJP twitter account! Thank you to @sleepywoodscans for their work on translating these, please show them some love!!

[Edit: For clarities sake, the only stuff here that has used MTL is later chapters of the Comic Anthology! Sleepywoodscans’ work on Operators! is all done by hand (they’re a native Japanese speaker). Again, I really appreciate their work!]

Arknights: A1 Operations Preparation Detachment: (Mangadex)

Part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focusing on Fang, Kroos and Beagle, and a catastrophe striking the Columbian city of Tkaronto. Unfortunately, only translated up to Chapter 6, but one of the characters (Elba) has a brief cameo in Light Sparks in Darkness! Edit: Chapter 7 has been translated by @pooce-art, and they're working on Chapter 8!

Angelina: Sketches of THIS Messenger's Journey: (Mangadex)

Also published as part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focuses on the adventures of Angelina travelling across Terra as a Messenger! Recent chapters relate to the upcoming Sami event & IS4, as well as the upcoming So Long, Adele.

Prelude Suite: Unrestrained Play: (Wiki)

Unfortunately, I can't find a full translation for this one - an epilogue to Hortus De Esscapismo focusing on Arturia's background. Of course, major spoilers for Hortus apply - if you can find a full translation yourself.

As well, an upcoming manhua focused on the Break the Ice cast was annouced during the 4.5 Anniversary stream. As far as I'm aware, chapters have not begun releasing yet!

Other:

Arknights Ambience Synesthesia: (Youtube)

youtube

A series of concerts (3 so far), focusing around Arknights' music! A live performance has been done every year, with skins released in-game for the concert's theme & 3D animations produced featuring the skin's cast in 2022 and 2023.

Monster Siren Records: (Spotify) (Official Website)

Arknights' official (and-in-universe) record label publishing game OSTs, themes for almost every 6 star operator that releases, and occasional bonus songs.

Arknights: Endfield: (Twitter)

An upcoming 3D action gacha game from Hypergryph, set in the far future of Arknights' universe on another planet. Currently in closed beta testing for their CN servers!

Arknights: Nomad City: The Founders: (Youtube)

A to-be-released CN Arknights board game! Unclear of if it will ever be translated or released globally, unfortunately...

Terra: A Journey: (Wiki)

An upcoming CN lore book focused on the intricate details of Terra's worldbuilding. As well, unclear if it will be translated or released globally.

UNOFFICIAL:

Some fandom-developed tools that might be of use to you are the Arknights Terra Wiki - which just transferred from FANDOM to wiki.gg, and has very detailed information on both game mechanics and world-lore.

As well, the Arknights Story Reader can help you catch up on stuff you don't want to or can't read in game!

Finally, Aceship's Toolbox provides access to a variety of tools, including a levelling calculator, a calculator to ensure the best recruitments, and all the CGs, backgrounds and character sprites that are avaliable in-game.

Conclusion:

Thank you for reading! I hope this provided some new information to you or at least provides an easy reference resource in the future. There's a lot to check out even outside of the game, and I hope you find some stuff you enjoy!

#arknights #ohhhh my god this took way longer to write than expected #dont want to reblog beg but they would be greatly appreciated!#take care with the mangadex & non-offical links #I can't guarantee their safety #i could've sworn who is real had a 3d trailer but it mightve been an ambience synthesia vid

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mcuamerica · 7 months ago

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The Shadowsinger: Two

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. loss of family, grieveing, heavy spoilers for ACOTAR series. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: (Eventual) Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Rhys offers you the chance to stay in Velaris, you meet the Inner Circle.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

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Prologue - One

Rhysand didn’t bother with introducing you that day. Knowing you needed some time alone before introducing you to his family. Seeing them so happy together wasn’t something you needed. So he ushered you to a free room in the House of Wind. You spent the next week in there, not even having to leave your room as the House had sent food up to you. And the dishes were taken away when you were done.

When you finally decided to leave the room, you made your way to a balcony at the end of the hall. Even though your windows had been open, the light fall breeze soothing you, (and you had your own balcony of your own) you wanted to be outside. Not sequestered in a room anymore. Rhysand didn’t say if you could leave or not. You in no way thought you were a prisoner here, but you didn’t know if he wanted anyone to know about you. You were a Shadowsinger, and one that had killed and spied for Amarantha. From what you knew about the Court of Nightmares, it may be a bad idea to venture out by yourself.

But this wasn’t the Court of Nightmares. Rhys said it was Velaris. He took you to Velaris. And as you looked out from the balcony, you saw what it wasn’t. It wasn’t a city of nightmares. It was a city of dreams.

Your shadows alerted you of his presence before you heard him, too lost in the city that you looked out upon.

“I’m glad you’re out of your room.” He said, hands in his pockets.

You turned around, eyes wide when you saw the strong, large wings towering behind him. “You never said you had wings.” You mentioned.

“I didn’t want them getting ripped off.” He said and you swallowed. If only you had that luxury. These past 50 years would have been easier, you thought, if you could have hidden your wings.

“I knew you were Carynthian… I don’t know why I thought you didn’t have wings.” You said, a light chuckle falling from your lips.

“Because no one but my family and those at Windhaven have seen them.” He said and you nodded.

“Right…” you said and turned back to the view. “This isn’t the Court of Nightmares.” You finally said. "And it certainly isn't the mountain atop Hewn City..." You had seen it before, when Amarantha asked Rhys to show her it again. She had you come along. If you never had to go back there, you would be happy.

“This is the Court of Dreams.” He said and you looked at him as he strolled to your side, a soft smile coming to your lips.

“It’s beautiful.” You said.

“It is…” he said and looked at you. “Are you ready to meet my family?” He asked.

You took a deep breath, nodding your head. “Yeah, I think I am… I think I’m ready to meet the real Rhys, too.” You said and nudged his arm.

Most people feared him. Or hated him. But you knew that there was something more to him than the cold, frightening exterior. Maybe it was because you knew he was protecting this. Or maybe it was because he had never once harmed you while Under the Mountain. But you knew that he wasn’t the typical High Lord of the Night Court that people said he was. He helped you during the past 50 years, and you had a bond that not many people down there came out with. It certainly wasn't a mating bond, but you considered him your brother. Even if he didn't consider you his sister.

You made your way from the balcony to the dining room with him, trailing behind. Your shadows swirled around you, nerves twisting your gut. It shocked you when a couple shadows darted away from you down the stairs into the dining room, without you asking. Then again, you didn't always have the best control of your shadows. Sure, you were a decent spy for Amarantha, but that didn't mean you truly knew how to use them to your advantage.

You remembered what Rhys said while at the Mountain. You were going to meet another Shadowsinger.

You stopped at the last step, listening as your shadows returned. “Safe. It’s safe. Go. Meet him.” They whispered.

Rhys paused and nodded towards the dining room. “They might be a lot, but they won’t hurt you.” He said and you nodded. As if your shadows’ reassurance wasn’t enough.

You took a deep breath as you walked towards the dining room. The glow of the faelight greeted you, and then you stood in front of the Inner Circle. In front of Rhy’s family.

A gorgeous female stood on the right, golden curled hair flowing down her back. An Illyrian male with long, black hair towered beside her. Next to him, was a small female who had glowing silver eyes and a skeptical look on her face. And finally, in the corner, in the shadows, was the other Shadowsinger, another Illyrian male with shorter black hair. But more gorgeous, beautiful than all the others combined. Including Rhys.

“(Y/N), this is my family. My Inner Circle. The Court of Dreams.” He said and smiled. “My third in command and my cousin, Morrigan,” he started and she tsked at him.

“Mor, call me Mor.” she said, a breathtaking smile on her face.

Rhys held back an eye roll as he moved on to the large Illyrian next to her. “Cassian, my brother and the commander of my armies.” The male gave a crooked smile, almost shrinking to make himself less… large. “Amren, my second in command.” He continued, the female narrowing her eyes before giving you a very, very subtle smile. “And my other brother and spymaster… the other Shadowsinger I mentioned, Azriel.”

Your shadows fluttered at his name, swirling around your arms and feet before going towards him. You silently pulled them back, not wanting for them to leave you just yet.

“Hi-“ you said and winced at the timidness of your voice. “Hi,” you said again, this time more firm. “I’m (Y/N)… Vash. But I don’t use my surname often.” You said.

“Vash… isn’t that the name of the prick in Valorworth?” Cassian asked and you went still, your shadows retreating more towards you.

“You- you know my father?” You asked and Cassian shut his mouth from a look from Rhys.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). We haven’t had any newcomers here in a long time. And none that were females.” Mor chimed in. You glanced over to Amren in response.

“I was here long before her, girl.” Amren said and you felt an unconscious shiver go down your spine.

“It’s nice to meet you all as well.” You said and cleared your through. “I uh… understand if you have questions.”

“Please, Rhys has told us just as much about you as he has about Feyre.” Cassian said and you shifted on my feet, glancing at Rhys. You supposed that made sense. Feyre did save everyone. Freed you to come back here. The tone in which Cassian said Feyre's name, however, seemed like there was more too it than just that.

“I suppose that’s good then,” I said.

“You took care of our brother when he needed it, that’s more than good.” The Shadowsinger, well, the other Shadowsinger, spoke.

As they swirled around you, your shadows gave away the fluster you felt from his words, under his gaze. You didn't know why you reacted that way, but you wouldn't question it.

“Brother?” You managed to ask and looked at Rhys.

“Not by blood, but by bond.” Rhys said and you nodded. “I know the feeling,” you said.

“Mor, though, is actually my cousin. Her father presides over the Court of Nightmares. After her, of course.” He said and smiled at Mor.

You relaxed a bit when Rhys told them to sit, and you tentatively took a seat next to him. You were a bit in shock that he didn’t sit at the head of the table. None of them did. It was set for 6, but had enough chairs for twelve.

You didn’t know where the girl that would tease and laugh with new people went. When you had met Sirona, even though you were hurt, you still brought light into your conversations. Into your life. Now, it was like the shadows that comforted you… devoured you. Like they were your master, not the other way around. It wasn’t so much on the outside, but on the inside. Where there was once a raging fire of happiness and hope, was now dimly lit embers struggling to stay ablaze.

The longer you spent around the Circle, the more you thought maybe one day you could rekindle that fire. Maybe you could be that bright, happy, hopeful female you were back in the village. Before Amarantha. Before you lost your family. You had a tugging feeling in your gut that the other Shadowsinger would help you get there.

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Join the taglist here

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed! These earlier chapters are shorter, around 1,000 - 1,5000 words. The later ones are about double that. I'm almost done writing the series and I'm very eager to get it out, so I'm going to start posting 3 chapters a week on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Around 3PM CDT (Chicago). Let me know if you have suggestions or questions!

Tagging:

@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickishadowsinger139 @atomolvnar @complete-randomness-2 @lilah-asteria @tele86

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger #katie writes #acotar spoilers #azriel x reader

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readychilledwine · 2 months ago

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The Cursed Ballet

Eris Week - Day 6 - AUs and Retellings

(Swan Lake)

Summary - As war with the Deathless God approaches, a new dancer entered Autumn turning Eris's world inside out.

Warnings - Beron, curses, Eris kind of being a male-whore to add interest later

A/N - Happy Day 6 of @erisweekofficial! So listen, I've written this 4 times and settled on it being a 3 part mini series. Otherwise, it got far too long, and I was worried people would lose interest. I love this concept, though, and I'm very excited to share it with you all.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Instruments being tuned as a stage was set were familiar noises to you. Especially now that your life has been flipped upside down.

You continued lacing the ribbons of your ballet flats, no one looking at you. No one even acknowledging your very existence. Why would they, though?

A human in the Autumn Court. A human who, to them, somehow stole the lead spot in this performance from a female who had probably been training 10 times longer than you have ever been alive. You were used to this, used to being forced to travel and perform since he came and ruined everything.

You'd been to countless places the last few years, cities you had never dreamed of seeing, people and Fae you never thought you would meet. He always forced you to come back to Prythian, though. You had danced in all the mortal kingdoms, in every court. Yet for some reason he kept you here, anchored to this place like a second prison in case your body was no longer enough.

Of the 7 courts, Autumn was your favorite to dance in. The beauty of the leaves, the crisp fresh air, the well maintained stage. It was all enough to distract you from why you were truly here. From the magic the plagued your body. You finished tying the slippers around your ankles, mind trying not to linger on the curse you and your older sister now shared. “It's fine,” you whispered. “You've danced in front of thousands of fae.”

Your warm ups were spent alone as well, the isolation you were forced to endure was the cherry on top of this curse. The first contact you'd have tonight was a tall, slender female looking you up and down before declaring they were ready for you to stage.

Eris groaned from his place in his family's play box. He loved the ballet, he loved the graceful choreographed dances, the stories told through music and movement, but he would be lying to himself if he didn't say he was annoyed.

His recent flavor of the week had been whining in his ear for 72 hours, 48 minutes, and exactly 23 seconds regarding his father's demands for a mortal girl to be put in the role of Odette.

His current lover was pretty.

But she wasn't pretty enough for him to listen to the complaints and crying day in and night out.

Eris felt himself freezing as the human girl took the stage. Every movement was clean, exact, graceful. She may as well have been fae with the way she made it seem as though she was the music. He didn't clock his father's smirk, the look of sick satisfaction Beron had.

“Pretty little thing, isn't she,” Beron said softly to him. “And so very talented for being human.”

Eris nodded, “Does she.. look familiar?” Flaming red hair in a tight bun, long elegant limbs. Her nose, the shape of her eyes, all of it felt so familiar to Eris, yet he could not place her.

That is, until the scene.

Eris looked at his father, the High Lord still smirking in his seat, “And why is one of his spies here?”

Beron rolled his eyes, glancing at Eris as the fae applauded, throwing flowers to the mortal girl. “He needed someone to keep an eye on her while he handled more pressing matters.”

“He, an all powerful sorcerer, could not handle taking a 26 year old human female with him to handle matters?”

“I've heard she's rebellious,” Beron stood as the girl exited the stage. “Besides, she requires water at night.”

Eris's eyes slowly shut, but he followed Beron, the understanding of that cryptic message hitting his heart.

You tried not to be afraid as Beron Vanserra dragged you through the gardens of the Forest House by your upper arm. His son followed behind you two, refusing to look your way. “Please, you are hurting me.”

“I was informed you needed a heavy hand. He may tolerate your games, but I will not, girl.”

It was a moment Eris would remember long after she was gone, his father throwing a mortal woman to the mudded ground. The noise she made on impact had him shifting from side to side, eagerly awaiting Beron's departure from Crystal Lake.

“Watch her until it happens, she won't be able to leave the lake once it does. If she tried to run, kill her.”

As soon as he was away, as soon as Eris knew they were safe, he rushed to her. “Are you alright?”

You could only nod at him, tears in your eyes as a nearly silent sob managed to make it's way through your throat.

“Does she know you're here,” Eris asked gently. “Does Vassa know you're here?”

“No,” Your tone was firm. “My presence here is a trap. For your brother, Jurian, and her.”

Eris processed the information like a complex novel, “He's near, isn't he?”

You focused in on the curse that bound you to him, “Yes, but no. He's still trapped on his lake, but he can.. project himself for small amounts of time.”

Your eyes finally met his and Eris's whole world shifted and changed.

The bond was dull due to only being able to half click into place, but it was there, creating a harmonious rhythm with his own heartbeat as the moon began to rise behind the two of you.

He understood why you would need the lake then, what your curse had been. Glowing golden light surrounded you, engulfing your figure before dying out.

And now Eris found himself trapped watching as his mate got into the water, defeat clear in even this form.

“Rhysand,” he called in his mind. “We have a complication.”

He sent Rhysand what had just happened, sent him the image of you floating on the clear waters of the lake.

“Be careful,” Rhysand's voice came back slowly. “Vassa says her sister's curse is more dangerous than her own.”

But Eris didn't respond, his eyes on the swan that had taken the place of his mate.

How absolutely cruel to curse Vassa to her bird form by day and to be a woman by night, but you a woman by day, swan by night.

Two sisters left chasing each other.

A curse Eris now made his personal mission to break.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #acotar x reader #eris fic #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris vandaddy #erisweek2024 #eris week 2024 #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris week 2024 day 6

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felassan · 5 months ago

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Article: 'Veilguard Unveiled: An Hour with the Next Dragon Age'

This article is from a few weeks ago, it is another article from a media attendee of the hands-off demo of DA:TV, writing about what they saw. I’m posting it now as I don’t remember coming across it before today. :>

Excerpts:

"perhaps the most thoughtful character creator I’ve ever seen, aligning with Bioware’s key game pillar of “be who you want to be.” [...]" "with the option to customize their appearance extensively or select from detailed presets [...]" "I even spied a larynx customizer (an industry first?). [...]" "Clear effort was put into a diverse selection of detailed hairstyles, emphasizing that commitment to player expression. [...]" "In a thoughtful touch, players may preview their character in various lighting scenarios and outfits before finalizing their creation, reducing the likelihood of wanting to re-roll the first time they see how they look in a dimly-lit tavern. With all the effort that’s gone into making sure your character looks exactly how you’d like them to, I was pleased to learn that the game includes a “hide helmet” option for cutscenes; let me see that much-fussed-over mug in every situation, thank you. [...]" "the Shadow Dragons, a group of rebel mages [...]" "While it’s natural to expect visual improvements in a series last seen a decade ago, I couldn’t help but marvel at just how good it looks. The city’s visual design is captivating, featuring a floating panopticon monitoring the city in an oppressive manner, reminiscent of Sauron’s gaze. [...]" "Before long, chaos erupts as Solas attempts to unravel the Veil, the mystical barrier separating the physical world from the more ethereal Fade, and our journey to Guard said Veil begins in earnest. [...]" "I challenged demo driver Mr. Epler to parry attacks great and small, which he did with aplomb via the LB button, also making use of melee attacks and a regenerating source of rogue’s arrows. As our Rogue unlocked his first ability, Static Strikes [...] this powerful wave attack highlighted the importance of positioning – well-aimed Static Strikes can tear through multiple enemies at once [...]" "abilities can be triggered immediately without entering the ability wheel [...] You’ll also use this wheel to direct your companions’ powers and target selection. [...]"

[source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #solas #larynx customizer! ^^

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fazedlight · 8 months ago

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Why am I obsessed with the rift?

From my first fic to the many many many many season 5 fics I've written, to the fic where the whole thing could've been averted in season 2, to my no-villain-era-for-Lena in season 3 (twice) and season 4 fics......... I seem to have developed a bit of a rift pattern.

A reasonable person might ask: Why?

There's something that itches in my mind: I think either woman would've been fully justified in walking away from their friendship, and yet they ultimately didn't.

It starts with Kara, who is ultimately a fractured person. She deeply values the truth, and yet she's forced to live with various lies, unable to be her full self.

Her identity is in the in-betweens. She feels adrift between two cultures, she knows her alien state while reaping the privilege of passing, she hides core aspects of herself on a daily basis. I'm sucked into the rift, in part, because of who she is and how she struggles to put it all together. I think her frustration will resonate with anyone who's stuck in the in-betweens.

Kara's struggle for identity plants the seed for the rift. The bigotry of society meant she had to have a secret identity in the first place, and keeping the secret from Lena was certainly reasonable for a time.

We can debate endlessly about when Kara should've told Lena - I think it's really hard to find the line between "too soon" and "too late" - but it ultimately doesn't matter. Because it's Kara's kneejerk reaction to Lena's kryptonite that forms the first sort of betrayal, not the secret itself.

Kara screws up - she says something she regrets, she doubles down when threatened and scared. These are common mistakes... but we have super-level circumstances, so we get super-level consequences. And the engine she has inside her that fears loss (which she's suffered to a level that is unimaginable to anyone on Earth) kicks in. She can't lose another person she loves.

But who is she holding onto?

In the series, and in flashbacks, we watch Lena's progression from idealistic techie to cynical recluse. While she's experienced loss and isolation, that's not the cause of her shift.

It's in experiencing her idol and protector become the madman who kidnaps her. It's in realizing her best friend has betrayed her by taking the one thing that could've saved her brother. It's in moving to a new city to start over, and meeting a mentor who uses her to start a global invasion. It's in her partner in scientific discovery being a pawn to her brother, colluding behind her back.

And then there's the final downfall. Her new best friend - her trusted confidant, her hero, the one who made her feel not so alone anymore - is the super who denigrated her, maligned her, spied on her. Lena had two important people in her life at that point, and she sacrificed one for the other... only to find out the other was a lie.

With betrayal after betrayal - Lex and Andrea and Rhea and Eve and Kara - she loses faith that anyone is above their worst impulses.

So she falls to her own.

How can good people do bad things?

There's a saying I heard around MIT sometimes: there are no technical solutions to social problems. It's easy to forget - when you're surrounded by people seeking to improve the world via science and engineering - that you can't solve humanity via technology or logic or rules. Lena forgot this.

Myriad marks a shift in the rift. Kara lied to Lena, antagonized her, spied on her - but her wrongs were directed towards Lena. Lena's initial response - the petty manipulation and the plan to out Kara - were directed back at Kara.

But then the rift fundamentally shifts.

At this point, Lena's wrongs are no longer just about Kara - she's trying to brainwash the world. She mindcontrolled Malefic and enslaved Eve. This went beyond the fallout between two friends.

It's clear that her intentions are still good here. She's not a megalomaniac like her brother, she's not forming an us-vs-them mentality like her stepmother. She's an anti-villain at this point in the story - desperate to find what's true, in a world full of lies.

It's a hard line to walk, acknowledging Lena's trauma and well-intentioned motivations while realizing she's still ultimately culpable for her own actions. But it's important to try to balance, because Lena is still redeemable.

But getting back to the relationship itself - Kara played a large role in pushing Lena to the edge of her trauma, which was entirely motivated by Kara's own trauma.

You hide things so you don’t lose people. I run from people who hide things. I guess we were bound to explode.

Lena says this in my first fic mentioned earlier, and it summarizes the rift as succinctly as I can put it. Their traumas were incompatible, and their relationship should've failed.

And yet.

Delving into how the CW screwed up the rift could be its own essay. They gave us a complex and layered situation, only to gut it with It's a Super Life (beloved/beloathed), the narrative retroactively justifying Kara instead of examining her foils, glossing over Lena instead of delving into her ethical blindspots. The rift was cancelled.

What does that leave us with?

Well, I guess it left me seeking the rift, over and over again. I'm certainly not the first author to do a rift fic, and I doubt I'll be the last. There seem to be a few different approaches:

Some authors delve into the nuance, having the two characters hash out what they've been through in a way that feels balanced and real. In particular, I love the @searidings fic with the birds i'll share this lonely view. I don't think I have the skill to pull off that type of story.

Some writers lean heavily on one "side" or the other, often with lots of grovelling. This never resonates with me, because at some point in a relationship there has to be the realization that it's "us vs. the problem", rather than "you vs. me". In my mind, these fics miss the layers of trauma that led to the rift.

Some authors make the rift not matter. If you put the characters through hell and back, the anger will lose its thrust, and they'll be left wanting to heal.

I fall into the last category.

There's a moment from permanence by @itllsetyoufree that I especially love, where - in the aftermath of season 6 - Eliza asks Lena why she forgave Kara. Lena can't answer.

We like to think we're logically driven. But in my experience, forgiveness - and a host of other emotions - never work that way. Sometimes "sorry" cuts it, sometimes it doesn't. A lot of times, forgiveness comes from the realization that someone genuinely wants to connect, and that the fallout was relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

Of course, when your fallout includes extra levels of gaslighting and a bit of global brainwashing, making it relatively unimportant requires something drastic.

That's where I end up landing. Putting my blorbos in Situations helps them see the other in a new light - see the other's genuineness, the other's fears, the other's love. Often times, this comes with the simultaneous threat to someone's life (though that's not necessary, especially if it's earlier in Lena's breaking point cutoff).

I do assume - and sometimes imply - that they're also having those discussions, working things out in the background. Because of what I put them through in my fics, I don't think those end up being explosive discussions. It's about figuring out the practical aftermath of what the heart already knows at that point.

Whether I deliver on that is ultimately up to the reader, but that's my approach. Because at the end of the day, love is about cherishing and understanding the person in front of you - flaws and and traumas in all. These stories are driven by loving both characters, and trying to see them the way they see each other.

The rift is a story about love and connection - how those things can't happen without embracing someone else's trauma and without understanding one's own imperfection. Because that's what's at the root of all of us.

And that's why I write the rift.

#this felt good to finally put into words #(note: this approach made writing the pre-S5 fics particularly rough but that's a tangent that didn't fit in here)#(I don't delve into every ethical question either but I wish the show had)#supercorp #headcanon #mel stuff

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