#the shouting during the council meeting was… painful

[quinn-of-aebradore]

I keep thinking about how Ashton’s been acting lately and I coming back to them saying that they’ve earned “a minor sense of superiority” for all they’ve been through in their life and then how through a lot of what they said after that demonstrates that that sense of superiority goes far beyond being minor. Especially the way they laughed and said “who else?” when the Hells asked themselves if they should really be the ones deciding if the balance of the world should be upended and remade. It carried a lot less of a “well who else is going to do it?” energy that I think it might’ve once carried, the sort of thing the Nein might say, and instead felt more like a “you really want anyone else but us choosing that?”, which aligns with the wildly out-of-hand way they were behaving in the council meeting. They really seem to be placing themself above everyone that was in that council room, especially with how they repeatedly said that all of those delegates are stupid and blind and so on, particularly those who answer to divine powers (I cannot remember if Ashton directly said that last night, but I feel like it would align with what they did say even if they didn’t put it that clearly).

What makes that very interesting to me is that Ashton is also a vessel for a higher power now, a power that—from the way they seem to be looking at things—is grander and older and more powerful than the gods themselves; a titan. They may not answer to Rau’shan, but they channel her power just as surely as any cleric or paladin might channel their deity’s powers. Which is a little hypocritical, but that’s not my point.

I keep wondering that if maybe, probably on a subconscious level, that connection to an older power than the gods is fueling Ashton’s sense of superiority over the gods and those who follow them.

[entitled-fangirl]

I won’t burn you.

Jace Velaryon x Targaryen!reader

SMUT

Summary: After the Battle at Rooks Rest, the reader is upset at Dragonstone. Her betrothed comforts her.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy makeout, talks of death

Masterlist

…………………………..

Jace's eyes didn't leave her body.

Y/n Targaryen stood among the small council table of Queen Rhaenyra. A green at birth, Alicent's second daughter and youngest child, she now stood next to the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Across the table, Rhaenyra’s heir and the girl's betrothed, Jace.

The two had been betrothed to make amends between the two houses during Luke's petition of Driftmark.

And when Rhaenyra decided to take her children home and return later to King's Landing, she had proposed taking Y/n with them so she may get to know Jace more. Though hesitant at first, Alicent was persuaded to agree by Viserys.

Now, Y/n remained loyal to Jace through the betrayal of her brothers.

Rhaenyra admired the girl's bravery throughout the ordeal.

Now, months later, Y/n stood at the table, utterly silent and motionless, save for the steady stream of tears that ran down her face at the news of the Battle of Rook's Rest.

Her brother injured beyond repair. Rhaenys dead. Sunfyre gone. Meleys paraded around King's Landing like a war prize.

It was the first time she had cried at Dragonstone.

Jace stood on the other side of the table, watching in pain as she weeped in silence.

The council was speaking, he was sure of it, but he couldn't tell what. Nor did he quite care.

He had offered to fight that battle.

In anyone world, Vermax may have been the war prize paraded.

He wanted to help. He did. It seemed he never knew how to help.

The moment Rhaenyra called an end to the meeting, Jace rounded the table to his betrothed. He took her face in his hands. His eyes darted across her face rapidly before his voice came out softly, "Please stop this."

Y/n's eyes finally looked up at him with her teary gaze, and Jace felt breath leave his body.

"My love, please," Jace tried again, not caring for the others in the room.

Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, "Why must it all end in fire?"

He wasn't sure what to say to that. "It's… it's in our blood."

She pulled herself from his grip, wiping at the tears herself. "My brother did not even wish to be king, and now he lies in a bed, half-dead. And for what? The feud between our mothers??"

"Watch yourself, my love." He warned, "Do not say the wrong thing just because you are upset."

She pushed his chest lightly, "You don't understand!"

His face morphed into one of anger, "I don't understand? Your brothers live. Where is mine? Slain by one of yours! I DO understand. More than you know!"

She shook her head as fresh tears warmed her face, "Please do not shout at me."

Jace scoffed lightly and crossed his arms, "Do not be unreasonable."

"I wish I was not who I am."

She began to rush out of the hall.

Jace opened his mouth to call out to her, but nothing came out.

…

Y/n had spent hours in her chambers with the door locked. No servants or guards were to bother her.

Her weeping could be heard throughout Dragonstone, making the Prince's gut tear itself in two.

But only when his betrothed's servant came to him to tell him of Y/n’s refusal of food did he do anything.

…

A knock sounded at the door.

Y/n sniffled and her soft voice called out, "Leave me."

"It's Jace."

"I said leave me."

"No."

She turned to look at the door. "Leave."

"Not until we speak."

She cursed lightly for his Velayron stubbornness.

"I won't come in until you say the words."

She finally gave in. "Fine. Come in."

Jace slowly opened the door, a tray of food in his hand. He closed the door behind him before his eyes settled on her frame.

Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from the tears, a few still escaping down her cheek as she sat on the floor in front of her bed.

He stood awkwardly, not sure what to do.

Finally, her meek voice spoke up, "Forgive me."

His head tilted, "W…what?"

"Forgive me." She sniffled, "I said awful things to you. You know the pain of loss more personally than I ever shall."

"That's not true," he said as he stepped towards her, setting the tray on a table. "You lost your father only months ago."

"He was your grandsire."

"Still."

She continued, "And you've lost Luke, Princess Rhaenys, your father Laenor, your-" She stopped herself. "Your mother's… guard."

Jace looked down at the floor. "Yes, but I… it is different with me."

"I don't see how."

When Jace finally looked back to her, unshed tears swam in his eyes. "I don't know."

She sniffled, "Please just say you'll forgive me."

He knelt down next to her, looking deep into her eyes. "You know I will."

She reached up, brushing his unruly curls from his face before connecting her lips with his.

Jace's body wracked with sobs as he pulled her into his lap. Her kisses became more passionate, intent on showing her feelings through them. His tongue darted out to her bottom lip, and he was quickly granted access to her mouth.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"You know I love you, Jace."

He stopped himself, pulling his lips from hers, "We should stop here."

She leaned forward, connecting their lips again, "I want you, Jace."

He shook his head, "We're not to marry until after this war. I won't sully you."

"I don't care. I need to feel you. Please."

He nodded, his hands pulling her hips closer and reconnecting their lips.

Her hand moved to his hair, pulling lightly.

"Onto the bed," he murmured.

She quickly left his lap, standing and beginning to pull at her dress.

He smiled as he wiped his tears and stood with her, "Let me."

He stood behind her, his lips leaving open mouth kisses against her neck as his fingers unbuttoned the small ones down her back.

She let out a small moan, resting her head on his shoulder.

When the buttons were undone, he tugged her dress down, making it pool at her feet. Now only in her shift, she turned in his hold and kissed him again.

His hands moved to her hips, and he walked her into the bed, playfully pushing her onto it.

She let out a grunt as her back hits the covers, but she laughed lightly at his antics.

He made quick work of tugging off his clothes, leaving him in his small clothes. He then joined her on the bed.

As he crawled over her, she grabbed his face gently, "How do you do it?"

He sniffled from his past tears, "Do what?"

Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip, "Suddenly I don't mind being consumed by fire as long as it is from you."

His lips pulled into a bright smile, "I won't burn you.”

She pulled him to her again in a desperate kiss.

Jace's hands began to pull her shift up to her hips. He pulled away to look at her, "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Please, I have to hear it. Please."

She smiled, "I want you, Jace. As much as you'll give me."

He pushed her legs up by her thighs, "I'll give you anything you want." He then made agonizingly slow movements as his body began to move lower and lower down hers. She waited with bated breath.

Jace had never pleasured a woman before. He was rather terrified of failing. But he was intend on trying.

His face lowered between her thighs. He felt breath leave him at the sight that laid before him.

He slowly lowered himself the rest of the way, licking a long stripe up her slit.

She let out a gasp from deep inside her.

He looked up with a hesitantly, "Does that feel good?"

Her hand trailed to his hair, "Please don't stop."

She could feel his smirk against her as he continued his motions.

It was experimental, continuing the things that made her gasp or when her grip on his hair tightened.

When his nose brushed her clit, her hips jerked back as a sinful moan left her mouth.

He reached up, holding her hips steady as he continued.

His tongue moved deep into her now, wanting to moan along with her.

"Jace…. Oh gods, Jace…."

He pulled away and brought himself up to her face again, kissing her deeply. She let out a small whine at the taste of herself on his tongue.

He grinned, "Not like it?"

She let out a calming breath, "Just feels strange."

"Want to stop?" He asked with a tilted head.

She immediately shook hers, "No. No, please don't."

He smiled, "Pretty girl."

Their lips connected again in a heated makeup.

She let out a small gasp when his fingers began to toy between her thighs, and he took the opportunity of her open mouth , letting his tongue explore her.

All-consumed by Jace, she gave in completely, her eyes closed and her lips slowing against him.

When his fingers slowly entered her, her entire body froze.

"This alright?" He whispered when he noticed her stiffness.

She gave a whimper but nodded her head.

"Jace…"

"You're so beautiful."

His fingers began to pump very slowly, his pants tenting at the feeling of his fingers in her.

She pushed herself up to kiss him but his fingers curled and her open mouth paused inches from his own.

He couldn't help the smirk that came to his lips. "You like that?"

She breathed out heavily, her eyes meeting his. "You… You know I… I love you."

"I love you."

"Burn me, Jace."

He kissed her jaw lightly, "I'll never mar your pretty skin."

…

They returned the next day to the council meeting in new spirits. Daemon's eyes moved between the two with a knowing look.

He knows the look of a man that's pussy whipped.

Perhaps he could get Rhaenyra to move the wedding closer.

……………………………

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Shattering sapphires tear under love

Aemond x prostitute!reader

warning : +18, smut (handjob), mommy kink, body worship, fluff, hurt/comfort, emotional, cuddling, crying, family issues and mommy issues, kissing, no use of Y/n, Aemonds just needs a little love

Summary : The death of his nephew, whether intentional or unintentional. A fact that had consequences and left the prince at a low point he hoped he would never reach…to be the disillusionment of his family. A prince of the realm crying broken dark in the dark finding escape with his other gem…

Info : OH MY GOD Aemond in the trailer and now seeing him a dream came true (even though I thought it was Rhaenyra at first strangely enough) this picture is just incredible ahhh. I knew I had to write it now have a lot of fun with it I had it again very much ;)

the aemond gif (very pretty by the way) is from @barbieaemond thanks for that and check out the blog

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~

Rain and wind he could still feel nature on him. The lightning and thunder that struck around him tried to tear away and devour every living thing in the sky.

The winds tried to whirl him around, but the rugged wings of the ancient dragoness Vhagar were more powerful and had nature under them.

A creature of magic and ancient Valyria blood did not submit to the winds, it flew through them, obeying the commands of its fourth and final dragon rider.

Now it obeyed orders it was not commanded to obey as its mouth full of old sharp fangs closed around Arrax. The dragon's roar was barely audible, but the last look he gave his nephew was the one that burned into his eye like dragon fire, breaking his sphair.

He looked into those dark eyes and saw nothing but fear in the knowledge of death. I killed him. The blood and the torn body parts of the little dragon seemed to close around Lucerys and the prince and his dragon rushed to the water. It was as if Vhagar and the sky could control themselves again.

The anger subsided and he stared at his trembling hand, covered by a leather glove, which he had reflexively stretched out. Pathetic. It had happened, it had been done, and the sound of Vhagar's wings carrying him home seemed to be the only thing left of the world.

His pounding heart, his trembling hands and the burning pain of his scarred skin where his eye had once been seemed to be only the beginning of this nightmare. But the worst part of arriving back in the city, in King's Landing, in the castle that was his home from the towers to the courtyard and the throne room, was meeting his mother's eyes.

The initial touch of fear that something had happened to him during the storm, ,,Aemond, thank the gods you're all right," had drawn him into her arms for a moment, but this changed to an uncertain and nervous one when she saw how upset her son actually was.

When she saw that he didn't seem calm and almost cool like his violet eye showed emotions of fear and sadness that he didn't have until now at least. ,,Do you realize what you've done?" the loud voice of his grandfather and hand Otto Hightower echoed in the room intended for the small council.

He had never seen his grandfather so full of anger and hatred, at least not towards him. I was always better than him. A glance at his older brother only confirmed that he found it amusing that their sister's bastard was finally dead. The violet of the two brothers met and yet he could see that Aegon gave him a silent sign.

He would be on his side no matter what…a small certainty in time. ,,Aemond! By the crown, do you know what this means?" even his mother shouted now, his wonderful, strong mother, his queen dowager.

The woman who had held him when he was wronged, the blood running from his ruined eyes no more than scarred flesh now. The woman who had fought for him, his brother and Heleana, against a woman, his older half-sister, who had gotten everything.

She had had a hard time and he had let her down a reality that hurt as much as her grip on his arms. Pressing her bloody fingernails into the dark fabric of his sleeves, he could have sworn they left small marks. ,,It means war, mother," he replied calmly, regretting that it came across as cold, but inside he cried out for forgiveness.

The pain behind his eyes was like dragon fire itself, his fingers clenched into fists again and again to stifle the trembling. He almost backed away when his mother and grandfather made a move towards him, thinking they were going to hit him. Just as useless as Aegon.

But with the rise of Aegon and the opening of the door as Criston stepped in, both Hightowers paused to give their son and grandson a look that burned itself into Ameond's eye just as Lucerys had.

The same dark accusing eyes, he was to blame, he had disappointed…he was only the second son after all. ,,To war then', Aegon had interrupted the entrance, giving his younger brother a curt nod to disappear for a while, surrendering to the voices of his family, with wine the new king would be able to bear anything.

Leaving the room hastily before anyone could grab him, the prince of the realm disappeared into the dark corridors to escape to his chambers.

It was as if his heartbeat was mingling with his overly rapid breathing, the trembling of his fingers would not stop and whether it was the third cup of wine or the food that tasted of nothing, not even the old Valyrian books could calm him down. He almost shouted at the servants to leave him alone and even Heleana he was too afraid to let her see him like this.

She herself doesn't deserve you. But he knew from the sound of her shallow words that she already knew what had happened to him. ,Two dresses, silk shattering eye shattering castle under dragons…mother will understand dear brother" he had heard her voice as she had probably turned almost dance-like through the corridors in her hands her insects flying and crawling around and also that his ,,Thank you Heleana" which came across like a stifled whisper was heard by her.

His face hidden in his hands, leaning slightly hunched over on the armchair in front of the fireplace, seemed to break in his emotional thoughts. ,,Get a hold of yourself," he hissed angrily that he had become such a thing because of a boy…he had murdered and disappointed…he didn't deserve it…didn't deserve the love of his family…his mother.

It seemed to get worse with every moment, his usually too big room suddenly too small and suffocating. The light of the moon shining through the window let him know that there was King's Landing, a city that was always open to him. His gem was still there.

Not a decision but rather a feeling of attraction without overcoming it, he made a decision within himself. Turning away from the armchair that raised the fire that made his spahir sparkle and reaching for his cloak, he walked out of his chamber at the hour of the wolf.

He had evaded the guards with his brother since he was a child. The steps still the same feeling of uncertainty and curiosity as then. The time his brother had grabbed her and pulled him behind him towards the city, towards the Street of Silk.

The Street of Silk lay on the hill of Rhaenys, a street notorious for lust and whimsy. But it was the place, it was her place where he knew she was the only one who was always good-natured towards him.

Deep down inside, whenever he heard the faint jingle of his coin purse, he knew that at the end of the day it was just a service he was getting with money.

But maybe this was exactly what he needed, a service, a woman, a woman who would embrace him and not see him as what his family, his mother despised him for today. Coins are the life of a whore.

He pulled his hooded cloak low over his face, covering his face as best he could as he knocked on the door and heard the activity behind it. Or at least he knew what it looked like in there again, a den of lust that had been no stranger to him since he was thirteen.

After another brief moment in the darkness, the door opened and he saw the familiar dark curly hair of the older woman. The mother of the brothel. ,,At this late hour, my…customer," she said and he saw her eyes peering easily under his cloak. It was her, she was his first, he was her most endless.

He would not forget her and even though he had hated his brother, he had simply left him in the brothel while Aegon had disappeared into the building with several whores of both sexes.

So Aemond had been taken by her most of the experience and to this day he lied to himself. He could have had a younger one but even inside, hell she knew he had longed for nothing more than a mother's approval.

A fact that lay unsaid between them all these years until he found his new gem. It no longer remained unsaid. ,,Is she there?" he murmured as she grasped his hand again as she always did and almost patted it.

She led him through her large house past the customers, the young men and women she was one of the oldest but every brothel had to offer a complete age range. The silk on the bodies that were naked underneath gave a look of lust but his eyes were mostly on the floor or on his companion.

,,You know she's always there for you, my prince. I thought something a little more robust was needed," she remarked and he felt her rubbing his hand as they both knew exactly what it was. ,,Robust soon…but no, something more caring," he replied and stopped when they arrived in front of the door decorated with silver.

The silver he had paid for was evidence of his many visits and he was not surprised that the silver showed the shape of dragons and fire. His gemstone marked by the prince's coins.

He heard the older woman's laughter make her curls bounce as she broke away from him and paused, ,,Anything you wish for my dear she, me or anyone else my house is always open to you…she will take away your guilt" she said and winked he instantly tensed and had to suppress a sigh. Her eyes were guilty and cleverly she had to realize what her customers wanted.

But she could and had always read him just as well. Pulling the golden dragon coin out of the small pouch and throwing it in her direction and catching it, he only heard her laugh and saw the knowledge in her eyes before he had too much to do and went into the room.

His cloak still lay over him as he walked into the largest room of the house, the double bed with a sett curtain, the finest furniture and ornaments with murals, even relatively expensive jewelry could be found here.

It was the prince's second room and everyone knew it. He heard her humming a song as she always did when she looked in front of her mirror and combed her hair, cared for herself and enjoyed a cup of wine.

,,Who is it?" she asked into the room and waited for his answer but his throat seemed dry, suddenly those suppressed emotions came back. He felt the pain in his eye, his fingers were trembling and he couldn't control himself, it was terrible.

As he approached her, the cloak still on him, he saw that she had seen him in her mirror and put a knowing, gentle smile on her lips. ,,A cloaked man…who could that possibly be? What pretty thing is hiding underneath?" she asked knowingly and rose to her feet, making her sapphire necklace sparkle in the candlelight and her dark, almost green silk dress flap.

All gifts he had given her to transform her into something that was not him by blood but that didn't matter here, here in his own realm…not today, not yesterday and never.

She came closer to him and gently undid the clasp of the cloak, taking off the hood and tying the dark garment. He saw the hint of a smirk as she always did when she wanted to make a joke.

But just as her hand was about to rest on his cheek, she paused and saw in his violet eye what his mother had seen. ,,My Saphier, what's wrong? What's worrying you that it hurts, my prince?" she asked and took his hand with her other hand, seeming even more surprised to feel the slight trembling.

She slowly took off his gloves and finally her warmth met his coolness and for a moment she just continued to watch him. Skillful eyes always saw what a client needed but her prince, the perfect second son, what had shaken him so?

Slowly his hand take the warmth on his cold he always seemed cold. Slowly moving him towards the couch, the two-seater next to the bed was actually his favorite place. He listened to her there when she read him books and he combed her hair against his and told him about Vhagar and the dragons.

It was almost a sweet moment they shared, but with his stillness and tenseness, she tried to whisk him towards the bed. A soft smile on her lips, moving her hair around and already making a lurid sound, she stopped when Aemond didn't follow her. ,,I didn't want to disappoint you," he said suddenly, his violet eye looking at the floor for the first time.

Seeing how she immediately changed again she listened, trying to figure out what had happened. ,,You can never let me down," she murmured, taking her hands off him and walking to the bed alone instead, leaving it up to him if he wanted to keep talking, if his violet eyes were detached from the green in her dress, the image of his mother screaming at him.

Meanwhile, the muffled thud of pillows and furs could be heard in front of the lit fireplace in which the dark wood was burning. She sat down on the furs, her legs apart and her fingers gently, almost carefully, stroking the green fabric from her shoulders. I'll take you again and again. Her body dancing through the flames cast shadows that were slowly taken over by Aemond.

She showed him her upper body, the bare skin the sapphire necklace seemed to be the only thing still covering her, the look in her eyes invitingly caring...motherly.

Waiting for him on the fell, her arms outstretched to him, his name spilling from her lips, ,,Ameond...my darling...come here" she brought to him knowing that he wanted and needed the flattery, the praise. Knew that she could give him what he needed, even if she didn't yet know what had happened, she would find out.

Slowly, almost appathetically, he reached for the top layer of his clothing, opening the heavy leather and the expensive dark fabrics to let the cloak fall to the floor. ,,Your darling," he murmured and she saw the flash of his gemstone as he came closer to her, slowly kneeling down in front of her still expecting a blow.

But instead her hands went to his light-colored hair, twisting a few strands back and forth before she combed her fingers through it. ,,You smell of fire and smoke... have you been flying on Vhagar again?" she asked, her eyes closed, trying to feel his reaction a little, knowing that she would only trigger more nervousness in his gaze.

A question, an everyday life, an everyday life with a protector, caring, motherly, full of empathy. He felt himself slowly stop trembling, probably imagining that everything would be all right again while she was asking him. ,,Yes, we were on our way to Storm's End," he revealed after a moment of silence, hearing him exhale almost shakily, and she knew that Storm's End was the seat of House Baratheon, even a whore had a knowledge that was due in no small part to her.

A long flight of revenge and duty. Leaning forward slightly, she let one hand wander over his shoulder to his chest while her other hand continued to play with his hair.

She skillfully and slowly began to undo the buttons and the shuttles, making small noises that were drowned out by the crackling of the fire. ,,Tell me Storm's End is far away my dear, was there a reason?" she asked quietly and slowly slipped the top off his body, pulling it down his beautiful almost porcelain-like body over the small and larger scars from fighting and the cold.

But as soon as the clothes came off, she felt him tremble again as if he had the shivers. ,,Shhh not yet I'm here mother is here dear" she whispered to him giving him a gentle kiss on his sleep still playing with his hair as she began to kiss his neck and back.

Sensed that it had probably happened on Storm's End, that the smell of fire and smoke couldn't just be Vhagar, that the rain had left a few drops on him. What had happened in the air that night?

She paused again for a moment as Aemond moved slightly, she saw him lift his hips slightly to remove the leather trousers, tossing the piece carelessly into the room and yet not turning to her.

The prince slowly lay down by her again, but she didn't ask him to do anything else. She watched him, seeing his features only slightly shadowed by fire, knowing that his violet eye was coated with softness while the gemstone still flashed. ,,Stay with me, never leave me," he demanded, his hand reaching behind him to grasp hers and she sensed he was still reaching for something she wasn't aware of. She didn't have the same coldness as her, she didn't have the same life traits as her...she wasn't what had given birth to him.

She was not the woman who could beat him with a single word, a single lift of her voice...but she was a woman who came closer, a substitute for the prince who longed for love.

,,I'll never leave you Aemond, I'll stay with you right here and you'll stay in my lap with me where nothing happens...what happens doesn't matter, you understand?" she asked, exerting a barely perceptible pressure on his body, making him lie down slowly, stretching out her legs so that he could position his head correctly in her lap.

She could finally see his face when he wanted to, but he could also turn away from her at any moment. But he decided to look at her, she saw him looking at her with something like loss in his eye as she continued to play with his hair. She saw how needy he was, how needy he was in her lap.

He needed it after his journey after his flight after his anger had made him do something.

She heard him inhale almost shakily as his body shifted slightly into a fetal position and she stroked his hair again. ,,I-I...killed Lucerys," he admitted, silent tears flowing down his cheeks and he closed his eye, taking in her eagerness for a second before she relaxed again and leaned forward to embrace him in his prone position.

His hands holding onto him over the scars and old wounds, her own fingers stroked over his body, twitching to tell her when to stop or continue. The prince was someone she found joy in wanting to take care of, it was a love for him. Your jewel is mine.

And he continued to close his eyes, trying to erase the memories of his nephew, the boy who disfigured him and he got no revenge. ,,It was an accident...nothing more it will all be over my lovely...let it go" she whispered to him letting his hands continue to wander over his body stroking over scars hearing his sigh and slowly moving towards his center letting his mind wander for a moment before she began a few gentle strokes.

He felt a sigh mingling with a sob as his fingers clutched at her legs and neck and he pressed against her, trying to forget the horrible scene and all the pain inside him. Letting the mix of hatred and anger mix with excitement and lust.

He bit his lip, not wanting to let out a soft sound that would make him feel like it was his own fault if he heard himself ,,Shhh it's okay, let it go" she reminded him, her other hand wandering gently over his face, intertwining with his hands, feeling him tremble slightly as her hand on his cock lightly passed over the tip for the drops of pleasure to gather and the lustful noises in the room intensified alongside the distant music.

,,Mhh I-I uhg didn't want it," he murmured, moving his hips lightly with her gentle, quiet pace as she felt him cry, moving him lightly back and forth like a mother moving a baby back and forth in her arms, talking to him while she continued to make physical love to him.

,,I know you didn't want it...I'm not angry or disappointed Ameond" she assured him, placing gentle kisses on his head as he continued to press against her, more lustful sounds escaping his lips and tears wetting his cheeks.

She picked up the pace and lifted her hand from his lap, taking her time to let him know she was there, ,,The sight of Lu-Luce he," Aemond murmured again as he glanced at a velvety red pillow and moved into her lap, his legs resting slightly above hers and his head tucked into the crook of her neck, her hand continuing to stimulate him as she kept reassuring him that everything would be alright while he moved his hips harder and harder, his fingers digging into the fabric of the blankets and pillows.

,,I know, but I'm here, you're the prince, nothing will happen," she kept talking to him as she watched him open his closed eyes, his pink cheeks flushed with lust and his lips curled up to look at her as he sighed into the kiss and she made a sound of pleasure herself as he turned slightly and let his lips trail over her torso.

He kept kissing her and his anger and hatred, his sadness and worry seemed to slowly disappear and louder and louder noises left his lips, which were easily suppressed by the sucking on her breast. The king and prince fascinated by one and the same jewel.

He didn't know that he had the same calm expression as the king when he was in her arms but it didn't matter, she cared for the one-eyed prince, her good boy who only needed his mother one way or another, ,,I'm sorry-I'm sorry mother," she heard him murmur and saw him look briefly at her, showing a kindness and understanding that drew him into another kiss and she felt him approach his climax.

She nodded assuring him that all was well and saw his face show the mix of shame, fear, lust and pure devotion it was pure beauty. Beauty for which she was and will always be with him because she knew he would come back he was a dog of the king with the mark of a dragon.

A young man fascinated by his uncle and holding deep feelings for his nephew who is better than him beyond death in a way Aemodn could never be.

But most of all he was dependent on her, he got no care from the Dowager Queen and every time he came back to her she loved him that she knew he would come back. ,,I always love you my dear Aemond...and now let go and rest and dream of memories and times past" she commanded him as she saw the anger in his confused mind penetrate him and he let out another whimper before his body stirred slightly and he clawed at her before he poured himself into her hand with a loud moan.

She still held him through his high point, stroking his head and giving him a sort of goodnight kiss as a lullaby came over her lips and she wiped her hand on the pillows before covering herself and him with a blanket.

She felt how it took a few moments before the pain relaxed completely and, at least for a few hours, a sleep that did not make him wake up with guilt and fear in the arms of a woman, a woman who could show him affection.

She would always be his jewel, and she was prepared to accept that if the sapphire broke, she would always be there to pick up the pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ladythornofrivia , @omgsuperstarg , @girlypieee , @fadingbatmuffindonkey , @mymoonempress

[theconstellationprincess]

Whumptober day 10: Blow to the head

When a diplomatic meeting goes wrong, Elrond suffers the consequences. Gil-galad is stressed, and Galadriel plans a murder.

-

The representative from Eregion was being exceptionally rude, and Elrond felt, not for the first time during this elf’s week-long visit, that Celebrimbor had been able to make the trip. It’s not the smiths fault, of course, he is far too busy to sacrifice a week for a series of meetings that would end as they always do, with everyone on good terms. Elrond had been spending this week mostly out of sight, writing speeches and arguments for Gil-Galad to say during the meetings, but on this day he was in the meeting room.

He was not to speak but the opportunity was amazing, and Elrond was practically glowing with excitement as he took his seat along one of the edges of the room. Galadriel, who was sitting next to Gil-galad, gave him a bright smile, and Elrond returned it with wide eyes. As everyone settled into their seats, the last to arrive was the representative from Eregion. The meeting started, and Elrond scribbled furiously as the members of the room took turns speaking. His argument sounded perfect when Gil-galad made it, and he was unsurprised to find that as the meeting came to an end he was happier than he had been in weeks.

And then the elf from Eregion, whose name Elrond cannot recall for the life of him, stood up and made a very… abrasive comment towards Galadriel. The room stiffened, tension thick in the air as Galadriel sat up straighter and opened her mouth to speak, only for another one of the council members to come to her defense first.

“You cannot speak about Lady Galadriel that way!” He shouts, standing up and approaching. He storms past Elrond and grabs the Eregion representative, who shoves back. They begin fighting, and Elrond can see the moment he is spotted by the representative, and though he tries to disappear as best he can into the wall, he is not successful. Just as the guards make it to the fighting elves, Elrond is pulled into the fight- quite literally, by his cloak, and has a dagger placed to his throat. The room freezes again, and Elrond feels more concerned than frightened, because there must be something going on with this person if they are being to aggresive.They should be taken to the halls of healing before any further investigation or punishment is brought upon them.  The blade knicks his skin and his poorly suppressed whimper echoes in the dead quiet of the room. 

“Silnor, there is no need for violence,” Gil-galad speaks gently, but there is a collective inhale when he breaks the silence. Elrond trusts his High King with his life, but even he tenses ever so slightly, fighting to keep his breathing under control. He is scared now, more than concerned, for though he still cares for the health of Silnor- a fitting name-, the knife is pressing harder and he can feel the wet warmth of a droplet of blood slowly traveling down his neck. “Please, let the herald go, and we can have a peaceful discussion.” The knife moves away for a moment, the hand holding it going lax, loosening, and Elrond takes the opportunity and disarms the elf. He thinks of Elros as he does, who was always the better fighter out of the two of them, and for whose memory Elrond had kept training, long after it had been believed that peace times were upon them. 

He manages to get the knife away, and tosses it low to the ground moments before he finds himself hitting the floor. Ears now ringing, Elrond manages to scramble away as the guards apprehend the other elf, pushing his back to the wall. The world turns dark, and he belatedly realizes his eyes are now closed and opens them again, blinking into the faces of Gil-Galad and Galadriel as they stand above him. “He needs to see a healer,” Elrond mumbles, tentatively touching the back of his head and hissing as it gives a painful pulse. Gil-galad laughs, though it sounds a touch hysteric, and Galadriel kneels in front of Elrond, grabbing his face and titling it so that she can see the damage.

“You need to see a healer,” Galadriel says quietly, pulling him into a tight hug. Elrond hugs her back, tucking his face into her shoulder because his eyes have filled with tears and he does not want to be seen with them yet. The adrenaline has worn off, and he finds himself coming to terms with the fact that he could have died. “Come, I will escort you.” 

Galadriel helps him stand, steadying him when his legs shake. She links their arms, and Elrond is surprised when Gil-galad takes his other arm in his. The walk takes longer than it should have, on account of Elrond walking slower than normal. Each step is a tremendous exertion of energy, and his body trembles beneath him, but Galadriel and Gil-galad do not falter in their support, and eventually he is sat in a bed, getting looked over. His neck is bandaged, and his head shows no signs of physical damage, so he is permitted to leave not long after arriving. Galadriel and Gil-galad stayed the whole time, which is touching, though unnecessary. He lets them fret, unable to keep away the warm feeling he gets whenever anyone shows that they care for him.

“You must stop getting into these situations,” Gil-galad murmurs to him as they walk back to Elrond’s room. Galadriel had gone off in her own direction, though she promised to visit Elrond later to check in. He will have to make sure he makes her favourite tea, as a thank you for help. Elrond shrugs, he does not go searching for trouble, it simply finds him, as it had since he was a child. His leading theory, though one only for his ears, is that he is cursed by the silmarils to be bothered by other people forever, as they were. 

“It is not my fault!” Elrond protests, opening his door and stepping to the side to allow Gil-galad entrance. He tidies up for a moment, though the room is impeccable as always, because Elrond refuses to leave it as anything but in the mornings. He straightens the papers on his desk and takes a seat on his bed, keeping quiet as Gil-galad looks around. It is not the first time the High King has been in his room, but it is constantly changing with new books, and the various trinkets he has on rotation. Elrond unclips his cloak, and fiddles with the pin for a moment, cringing at the thought of the letter that will have to be sent to Celebrimbor about his representative. 

Perhaps he will make a visit, Elrond would be very glad if that was the case, as it has been some time since they had last seen each other, and though they send letters on occasion, it is different from seeing him in person. Gil-galad sits next to him and gently takes the pin from his hands, setting it on the bedside table and begins stroking the top of Elrond’s hair. Elrond sighs and leans into the touch, soaking up the comfort from one of his oldest friends. The earlier exhaustion returns full force, and he leans against Gil-galad, letting his eyes fall shut.

“Rest, Elrond. I will be here when you wake.”

-

Galadriel stares down at the elf who hurt her friend with distaste. He has been isolated from the others in the halls of healing, and she can see the corruption within him. It is the result of an injury, one made from a foul weapon, but she cannot feel empathy for him. If, upon his healing, he is still a foul person from the inside out, she will feel no guilt in committing kinslaying. Elrond’s safety and comfort is worth the terrible action. She glares deeply at him and turns away, making her way towards Elrond’s room with a soft smile on her face. Yes, Elrond’s safety and comfort is certainly worth most anything in their world.

[electronicwitchcollection]

what do you think Grimmjow, Shunsui and Jushiro would be like as dads? All your opinions have been so interesting!

I love this 😭🙈

Jushiro

This man is a perfect dad. He adores children, and has always wanted his own. I feel that once he found out his partner was expecting, he cried. As much as he wanted it, he never really thought it would happen for him. He was over the moon, his smile wouldn’t leave his face for weeks, often slipping into a day dream, bright smile on his face.

He was the sweetest most patient partner during the pregnancy. He’d absolutely dote on her, take over all the cooking and cleaning. Run her baths, massage her feet when they were sore. He would fall asleep with his hand on her belly. Loving the little kicks

He would be present at the birth. Holding his partners hand, wiping her down with a cool cloth, giving her all the encouragement and praise anyone could ask for.

I think at one point he would worry about his health, scared it would prevent him from being as hands on as he wanted. He would never want to see the worry in his child’s eyes if they saw him doubled over coughing up blood. He never wanted to be the cause of pain or fear for his child.

Coming from a large family, he was well prepared for the baby years. He didn’t shy away from nappies or night feeds, taking on more than his fair share. Wanting to do the work, spend as much time with his little one as he could. And also to help his partner, she needed her rest. She gave him the most precious gift he could ever ask for, the Least he could do was let her sleep.

Jushiro would be gentle. He wouldn’t shout, choosing instead to get down to his child’s level and explain the rules, what they’ve done wrong and how to right it. He’s liberal with his cuddles, his praise. He’d encourage his child in anything they chose to do. He would tell the best bedtime stories, repeating some from his youth he had made up for his younger siblings.

He wouldn’t expect his child to walk in his footsteps. They didn’t need to become a shinigami if they didn’t want, he would support anything they chose to do.

You couldn’t find a more supportive, kind hearted dad.

Shunsui (kinda went overboard with him 😂😅)

Shunsui would go on a journey 😂

I think when he was first told his partner was with child, he’d freeze. Eye wide, staring into nothing as his mind buzzed, struggling to comprehend what she had just said. Not quite the reaction his partner was hoping for when she told him the happy news.

Just when she thought something inside his head had broken and she’d have to go find someone for help (the fourth or jushiro) He’d snap out of it, hugging her close, happy about the baby.

I think he would be hilarious to watch with a hormonal pregnant partner 😂 he’d be jittery, careful with her, overprotective in a way that would make her go crazy. But he would wake up at 4 in the morning when she had cravings, tiredly stumble his way through soul society to get her the latest bizarre food combinations her cravings had come up with.

When she started to show, I think Shunsui would have a moment of panic. He’s seek council with Jushiro. Spill all his fears about becoming a dad. He didn’t think he would be able to raise a child, he didn’t want to fail them. Jushiro would talk some sense into him. He wouldn’t be alone, he had his partner. Jushiro thinks he would be a wonderful dad, and couldn’t wait to meet his little niece or nephew.

The first time he felt the first kick, his face was that of pure wonderment. Anytime the child kicked he would rush over, resting his large hand over her stomach to feel the steadily strengthening kicks.

I think after that, he’d be so attentive. He’d kiss her round belly, talk to the baby. He’d tell the baby how much he couldn’t wait to meet them, how they’ve got the prettiest mum in all of soul society, how much he’ll do all he can to be a good dad.

When it was time, Shunsui would freak out. He’d panic 😂 running around grabbing towels and pillows and for some reason, the wok from the kitchen cupboard. His partner would have to baby him, calmly tell him you needed to get the the fourth, sighing loudly when he flash stepped there without you. He came back eventually, when Unohana calmly explained she couldn’t deliver the baby if the baby and mother wasn’t with him.

His partner and Unohana seemed more concerned for Shunsui than they did the delivery, Unohana quietly instructed one of her staff to watch Shunsui, incase he were to pass out. He didn’t luckily, when the time came to push, and he could see how much pain she was in, he was at her side in an Instant

He’d hold her hand and give her all the praise and encouragement he could think of. So unbelievably proud of her. When the baby arrived, he let her have time with the baby, holding his child for the first time when she fell into an exhausted sleep,

He’d slowly pace around the room, unable to tare his eyes away from the tiniest baby he’d ever seen. So overwhelmed with joy, love he’d cry happy tears. He never knew he could feel so much love so quickly.

Shunsui struggled with nappy’s and feeding at first, but quickly learned how to do it. He would help out, but often needed reminding, he was too distracted looking at their little face. Night feeds were hard, he was difficult to wake and often fell asleep cradling his child. Surprisingly when holding the baby, the slightest noise would wake him up.

He loved the toddler years. He would happily play on the ground with his child, chasing them around and putting them on his shoulders. He wasn’t strict, in fact he would find it hilarious and encourage his child when they were up to no good. Honestly, it’s like having two children.

He’d take the child to visit Jushiro and Nanao often. He wanted the Influence of two of the smartest, kindest people he had in his life around his child. Nanao would read them stories, remembering how much she loved books as a child. Jushiro would always have a hidden stash of sweets upon his person, ready to share with Shunsuis mini me.

Shunsui is a good dad, a fun dad. He never thought he would be a dad, but he was thankful every day that he was

Grimmjow

Not immediately paternal 😂

His instincts are there. When he found out his partner was pregnant, he would become feral in the way he would protect her. If anyone got within three feat of his partner and his pup he would growl warningly. If that didn’t deter them, he’d punch first ask questions later.

He was incredibly prideful of having knocked up his woman. He’d have SUCH a kink of seeing her swollen belly, full with his child. When she started showing, she couldn’t get him off her. He’d always be touching her, making sure he knew where she was at all times .

The first time he felt a kick was when it felt REAL to Grimmjow, there was a baby in there. Moving and kicking. He would grin manically, proclaiming their child was going to be a fighter. Strong, powerful.

When it came time to deliver, Grimmjow was almost thrown out of the hospital room. He would snarl and snap any anyone who dared get to close, instinctively trying to protect his vulnerable woman and their young. He would see reason eventually (and with a couple threats from Unohana) and allow just the captain to approach.

He’d pace along the bed, keeping the others at bay, sending worried looks to his woman screaming in pain as she pushed. He was a little startled at the amount of blood and fluid involved with giving birth. Made his stomach churn

When he heard his youngs cry for the first time, Grimmjow had a jolt of fear unlike anything he’d ever experienced shoot through him, they were here. Real. He couldn’t believe it.

He was a little awkward holding his baby for the first time. They were so tiny, so fragile and weak that he was worried he would hurt them. His woman showed him how to hold the baby safely, they fit perfectly in his strong arms.

Grimmjow had a sensitive nose, so avoided nappies at all cost. He didn’t mind bottle feeding though. Grimmjow was in his element at night, so didn’t mind getting up for the night feeds. I feel he would be constantly unsure of what to do with the child. Every milestone brought a new set of problems he didn’t know how to deal with.

When his child crawled for the first time, Grimmjow panicked at not seeing them where he left them. It only got worse when they started walking and running. He’d feel like he needed the child in his sights at ALL TIMES. Protective instincts going crazy.

When the child is older, he’s teach them how to fight, how to protect themselves. He’s strict. He has no problem setting rules and enforcing them, though he would never raise a hand to his child. And would rip off the arm of anyone who dared to.



[starfall-spirit]

@rq-gift-exchange

Read on Ao3 // Masterlist

Pairings: Bodhi Durran/Sloane Mairi, Violet Sorrengail/Xaden Riorson

Summary: Liam and Sloane Mairi have spent the past seven years caught between a rock and a hard place trying to put together what could have made their parents choose to side with Navarre in the apostasy. Since that day that twisted their fate so completely they've stood in silent grief of the home and friends they lost.At last their reckoning has arrived as the people they once called friends set foot on Navarrian soil to strike a bargain.

Happy Gifting Day, @hoeelliexx! This is far from the fluffy three or four part story I originally planned, but writer's block just had to shove it's way in. Thus a new concept was born. Don't worry, you'll still get your fluff and forced proximity, though.

Very short chapter, but I'll be posting what was supposed to be the rest of chapter one in the next few days. Hope you like it!

Chapter One

Violet

“They’re here. The Tyrrish delegation just landed on the flight field.” 

Violet swallowed hard, setting down her pen before the ink could expose her nervous energy to her classmates. Still, they knew her well, and Rhi was already giving her an odd look. “Hand cramped,” she muttered, rubbing where her thumb joined her palm.

“Violet.” She closed her eyes, blowing out a defeated sigh when Dain called her from the doorway of her room. 

“Also, it seems it's time to discover what great role I’ve been assigned when dealing with the Tyrrish delegation. They’ve just landed.”

“Want some backup?”

Her eyes slid to Liam, and though he held her stare, she saw the pain behind it—saw the clench of his jaw and the curl of his fist as he offered to stand beside her and face the people he once called family. Friends he was forced to leave behind because of his mother’s shift in loyalty during the secession. If it wasn’t for Colonel Mairi’s actions, he may be standing beside them now. He and Sloane both. Once the girl earned her dragon and flight leathers, that is. 

“An invitation was not extended to you, Cadet Mairi.” 

Violet rolled her eyes. “Oh high and mighty Wingleader,” she grumbled. “Thanks, Liam. I’ll be fine. And Tairn will be there if things go south for whatever reason.” She lowered her voice again. “I’ll fill you in when I get back.”

“Don’t lose your shit on Riorson,” Ridoc shouted after her. “On second thought, the guy could probably use a bloody nose.”

“He certainly could,” Dain grumbled beside her, setting a brisk pace down the hall, only slowing when they approached the door to the meeting room, raising his fist to knock a sharp pattern at its center. “Alright, Vi?”

“I don’t need you hovering. We’ve talked about this.”

The door swung open before he had a chance to respond, revealing his father who looked far too nervous for her to feel any better about the conversation that was about to be had. “Dain, you may return to your afternoon duties.”

“I—but Violet—”

“Violet has all the company and protection she needs. Any information you’re due as her wingleader has yet to be determined.” Violet clasped her hands behind her back, doing her best not to shuffle awkwardly between them. Dain had always been closer to his father than she had to her mother. Seeing them in any sort of standoff was just plain awkward. “You’re dismissed, Wingleader.” His jaw feathered, but after giving her shoulder a light squeeze, Dain turned on his heel. “If you’re done chatting,” a new voice drawled, “the rest of us would like to resume this meeting.”

Taking a deep breath, Violet stepped around Colonel Aetos to at last lay eyes on the guests Navarre had received in the moments before her arrival. To her surprise, it wasn’t the full council waiting for her on either side. Instead she found only King Tauri, King Riorson, a single representative to his right—presumably his second in-command—and her own mother.

The young king was her focus. Only a few years older than her, she could help but admit the man was attractive. Her type, even, with the dark hair and muscular form his flight leathers only flattered. There was a great many things that put Violet apart from her fellow cadets, be they a physical weakness or a mental strength. But putting those differences aside, she was a woman before all else. And King Riorson was a very attractive man, more than capable of handling the steel at his side, she was sure.

“Violet Sorrengail,” he drawled, seeming to take her in with a genuine curiousity. “I heard the rumors. I had assumed when you bonded Tairn that they were exaggerated.”  She just kept from grinding her teeth, lacing her knuckes tightly to keep her hands from balling into fists. “I didn’t realize Tyrrish intelligence relied on the gossip mill alone. How disappointing.” King Tauri coughed into his fist. “Cadet Sorrengail, please make yourself comfortable.”

And close your mouth, his eyes seemed to say. She’d never seen the man so anxious. “Thank you. Is someone willing to explain why I’ve been summoned, now?”

“Of course,” Riorson said, lips curving into a smirk. “You’re here so we can discuss the fine points of the deal your mother and king have proposed.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to suppress the growing nervousness tightening her stomach and throat. “Or did they not tell you about the trade on the table?” His chuckle told her the answer was all over her face. “You’ve been traded, darling. A week from today you’ll be saying your vows. There are consequences to bonding a mated dragon, you know.”

[cookies-over-yonder]

masked weakling

Erica spots Taylor getting bullied at school, and she decides to do something about it.

ao3

It’s another regular day in the life of Erica Drippins. Student council duties, cheer practice, upholding status, just generally being perfect, the whole deal.

And she’s wandering the hall during lunch when she hears a commotion.

Filtering through the sea of students, she spots Taylor face to face with Jared Jorts, known bully.

“You better leave me alone ‘cause I could kick your ass!” Taylor shouts.

“Oh yeah?” Suddenly, Jared is holding Taylor’s cane up and out of his reach, and shoving Taylor against the locker loud enough for a bang that echoes throughout the hall. Taylor yelps, and then bites his lip. “You can’t even fucking walk, old man.”

“ Hey! ”

Erica makes her way to them and presses an index finger to Jared’s chest. “Leave him alone and give that back!”

Jared scoffs, but he lets go of Taylor and throws his cane at him, hitting his torso. Taylor winces in pain before picking it up off the floor, panting.

“Thanks,” he says, barely meeting her gaze. His eyes are glassy, and there’s a slight tremble to his voice.

“No problem. Are… are you okay?”

The bell rings.

Time for class.

And as the hustle and bustle of students floods the hallway even more than before, Taylor is gone.

He did not look okay.

And, well, with the hall passes she has for every class, it’s impossible for her to get in trouble for skipping.

So she decides to look.

Once class has started, the halls are rather empty, and it’s easier to search.

It takes a while, but eventually she reaches a far corner of the school littered with abandoned classrooms and a disgusting bathroom.

And she hears a shuddering breath.

And then a sob.

“Taylor?”

The crying stops. Erica suspects he’s holding his breath from how quickly he went silent.

She turns the corner, and he’s there. Curled up and shaking on the floor beneath the steps.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she says, scooting to sit under the steps across from him.

Taylor’s arms are holding his head and keeping it pressed into his knees. He seems to finally let go of his breath, because Erica hears shallow breathing again. “I’m fine—”

He cuts himself off with a sob, shaking harder. He’s got his hair in his fists, and from the way he’s pulling at it, his scalp must be stinging.

“I’m not gonna pretend that I know you and how you work, but you don’t look fine. That guy back there is an idiot, and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about—”

Taylor lifts his head up and meets her eyes.

His face is red and blotchy, and bits of hair are stuck to his face, and his breathing is far too unsteady.

“Why—why do you care?”

“Because you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. It was cruel and unfair.”

“‘S fine,” he mumbles, averting his gaze from her eyes, “‘M okay now.”

“Still, he shouldn’t have—”

“He was right, anyway,” Taylor says before another sob rips through him again. He buries his face in his hands, and Erica notices the red flecks at the ends of his long nails. She hopes its not blood, but considering the way he was tearing apart his hair earlier she can’t be sure.

“Taylor…”

“I can’t—I can’t do shit,” he says between sobs. “I’m weak. I can’t… I can’t—”

Taylor whines, and his breathing gets more desperate, like he’s gasping for air.

“Taylor, hey, it’s okay—”

“You should, you ssshould go back to class,” he sputters out, strained and quiet.

“It’s fine, I’m not missing much. Can—can you take a deep breath?”

Erica really wishes she had gotten to the scene sooner. Especially now, when Taylor shakes his head with a whine, hyperventilating. She hears him just barely curse under his breath.

“Taylor, hey , can you hear me?”

He nods. “Fuck, suh…sorry… fuck —” his gasps get louder, and he continues forcing out apologies, and god, he is trembling violently.

“You don’t need to apologize. Can… can I touch you?”

Taylor nods.

She pries one of his hands away from his face and holds it. He squeezes it so hard she nearly flinches.

Rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb, she feels her own eyes getting teary.

“Breathe in,” she says, squeezing his hand.

He does so shakily, running his free hand through his hair before planting it on the floor.

“And out…”

Taylor sighs, slumping forward a little.

“Okay, in… out… in… out…”

After a few more deep breaths, Taylor’s breathing is a little more stable.

“‘M okay,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I… I don’t know…”

“It’s okay, here,” she says, letting go of his hand in favour of wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

His head rests on her shoulder, and he’s warm. His hands felt hot, but really, his whole body is so warm. It’s not that uncommon for anxiety to cause fevers—Erica learned that the hard way—so maybe she shouldn’t think much of it.

“Look, I know that I… I don’t really… stray from the popular circles… but I can’t just sit around and let you get hurt like that.”

“Why don’t you?” Taylor mumbles into her shoulder, “I mean… isn’t it tiring? Keeping up appearances like that?”

Erica opens her mouth to reply, but then she closes it. “It doesn’t matter,” she says, “Are you feeling any better?”

“I… I… today… bad pain day…” he mumbles, “‘S why I was so off my game. Would’ve brought my crutches but…”

“But what?”

“He’s always saying things like that. I… I can’t walk without my cane though. ‘S hard.”

Erica doesn’t know what to say.

She’d always been one to, well, appease the crowd. But man, this is rough.

“I think your cane looks cool.”

“Thanks. I… I have some new stickers on it.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” Taylor pulls away from the hug and picks up his cane, pointing at the new stickers. “Totoro, Miku, Garfield, another Miku…” he mumbles slowly, eyes droopy.

“I didn’t know you liked Garfield.”

“Link does. He gave me that one. ‘S my favourite.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Mm… he’s probably wondering where I am. We have urology this period. Maybe I should…”

Taylor grabs the handle of his cane and starts trying to lift himself up. Erica stands up herself and offers him a hand. He takes it, and she pulls him up, but only for his knees to buckle.

“ Fuck ,” he winces as Erica catches him and helps him back to the floor. “My legs hurt so bad. Sorry. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, should I get the nurse?”

Taylor shakes his head immediately. “She doesn’t do shit.”

“Okay, uh…”

What can she do? Erica has never been the bottom on the cheer team, so she’s hardly confident in her abilities to lift another person…

“You don’t have to um, stay here with me, I’m fine now,” Taylor mumbles, running his fingernail between the tiles on the floor.

“I’m not just going to leave you stuck on the floor alone.”

“I really shouldn’t have been running,” he says, moving his hand to trace the stickers of his cane.

“Do you want me to get someone for you?” Erica asks, watching Taylor gaze at the Garfield sticker as he traces it.

“Could you maybe get Link? He’s in class so he won’t be on his phone, but I—I don’t know… you don’t have to—”

“I’ll be right back.”

Getting ahold of Link is easy. Every teacher trusts her when she says she means business, and soon enough, she’s with Link in the hallway just outside the door.

“Taylor needs you,” she says, watching his expression shift from confusion to barely contained worry.

“Is he okay? Where is he? Is he hurt? Did something happ—”

“He’s okay. He’s under the stairwell by the abandoned classrooms and the gross bathroom. He’s not injured but his pain is flaring up. He was approached by a bully toward the end of lunch and he kinda broke down afterward.”

And now they’re walking. Briskly.

“Okay. Okay. He broke down?”

“I found him crying, and then I think he kinda had a panic attack over it, but I helped him calm down.”

“Thank you,” Link says firmly, and at first she wonders why, but then she understands. They’re close.

And at last they reach the boy in question, and Link is immediately crouched down and hugging him.

Taylor hums, and then Link is lifting him up in his arms, and Taylor is whining again, though it’s more babylike than before.

Erica picks up Taylor’s cane and passes it to Link. He takes it with a smile and a nod.

“Seepy…” Taylor mumbles.

“It’s okay, you can sleep,” Link coos.

“Mmmkay…”

Taylor shuts his eyes and curls further into Link’s chest.

“I take it you both are all good now?”

“Yeah, I can take it from here. Thanks again.”

“Of course.”

Erica goes home that day with the picture of Link holding Taylor like that lasting in her mind. She doesn’t know anyone she could be that vulnerable with.

It’s not like she really can be vulnerable. Not with her status. Not with her plans.

But Taylor was with her. Maybe it was because she was the only one there.

But it was something.

And she wonders if he’d ever be as receptive to her vulnerabilities…

That’s absurd.

She doesn’t have any.

And a regular day in the life of pretty and perfect Erica Drippins comes to an end once more.

[ashboy-3]

Haunt Separation

Fandom: Danny Phantom Prompt: Haunt Character: Tucker, Danny, Sam, & Frostbite Words: 881 Summary: With Danny's acceptance to college, he is discovering a new challenge. Haunt separation. Luckily he has his local ghost doctor to go to to help solve this problem; Frostbite.

The first time Danny left Amity after the portal accident was an experience. His core hurt for a reason that he couldn’t explain. The longer he was gone the more he longed for his home. If it was longer than a week, then Danny would be in physical pain at the separation between him and Amity.

It was never really anything that he had to worry about.

That was until he got accepted in college. A college that was all the way in California. He was ecstatic! This was the college that he worked all year for. The college the Lancer put a lot of work into helping him get into. It completely slipped his mind about his separation problem.

He could shout to the sun how grateful he was for his friends. His best friends who keep track of everything for him. Who keep his life in check. Who have been a bigger help since he was announced Prince of the Ghost Zone and suddenly had more responsibility.

“Remember Danny you have an appointment in the Far Frozen with Frostbite. It’s your bi-monthly check up,” Tucker informed him as they walked towards Casper High.

“It’s after school, right?” Danny lifted an eyebrow. Ever since the whole college and king business both fell into his lap he’s been worried more about his human life. It took a few therapy sessions to realize that his human half was just as important as his ghost half, especially with all of the extra responsibilities.

“You are correct. You are meeting with Lancer during your lunch period to study and makeup on some work. After school you go to Frostbite and then you have Greek lessons with Pandora and finally Esperanto lessons with Wolfe. It’s not packed today, but we did that on purpose. After that you come back and we got started on Homework,” Tucker taped away on his trustful PDA.

“Nothing to do with the council today?” Danny raised an eyebrow.

“Not today. Saturday however you will be in meetings all day.”

“Don’t forget to ask Frostbite about the pain you feel when leaving Amity,” Sam said, now joining the two on their way to school.

“Okay. Got it!” Danny said confidently, not seeing the look his two best friends were sharing.

“Here is a cliff notes version checklist of everything. We can handle any ghost that come along,” Sam promised as she handed him a small piece of paper.

“Thank you, guys. . .really,” Danny hugged the best friends he ever could have had, the trio walking into the school.

It was after school, Danny was now in the Far Frozen, in a warm hut, sitting with Frostbite.

“How have things been Great One?” the yeti asked.

“Chill. Pun intended,” Danny smiled at his old friend.

“Well, you are in normal health, nothing wrong. Any questions?”

“Actually, I do have one,” at the Yeti’s quirked eyebrow, Danny decided to continue. “When I leave Amity for to long I get this pain in my core. It becomes physically more painful the longer I’m gone. It wouldn’t be a problem but I’m moving to California for college soon.”

“Sounds to me like a haunt separation,” Frostbite scratched his cheek.

“a what?”

“Ah. Let me explain. When a ghost primarily lives in the outside world, they have a haunt. Where they reside, if you will. Well, the longer the ghost lives there the stronger their bond to the haunt is. Making it painful for the ghost to leave.”

“Well, is there a way to reverse it!?” Danny was shocked.

“Of course! It’s a little difficult and I’m sad to say it will take time out of your schedule,” Frostbite warned.

“Well, it’s something that has to be done. So, I’ll just have to make time,” Danny shrugged.

“In that case here’s the remedy. Fly out of Amity, till you feel the pain in your core. Sit down and just mess around or meditate for thirty minutes. Every few days it should extend a little bit further, until the bond is canceled out,” Frostbite smiled.

“That’s it?” Danny was confused.

“Yep! Nothing to big. Like I said just do something at the spot you first feel the pain. It should slowly get farther. Anything else?” Frostbite asked.

“Nope that was it. Thanks Frostbite! I’ll see you at the meeting Saturday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it Great One,” the two said their goodbye’s as Danny flew to his next meeting. Once he was done with all of his things that day he called Sam and Tucker, letting them knew what Frostbite had to say.

“Done, added to your schedule. From now on you have a forty-minute haunt time. This should be enough for travel and the thirty minutes for extending haunt times,” Tucker said into the phone.

“Give us a few days and we can probably find a way to merge it with homework or something, that way you still have time for other things,” Sam told him.

“Alright. If we’re lucky we can break this bond soon,” Danny said into the phone, saying night to his friends.

Lo and behold, as time went on the pain became less and less until Danny was able to leave Amity with no feelings. Just in time for him to leave for college.

[jungle321jungle]

A Royal Pain: One

A public competition between brothers for the throne was quite literally the last thing Janus and Logan wanted to do in their lives. After years and years of doing everything in their power to reach this point, there should've been a reward—something other than crushed hopes. But what to do now? Resign to that fact? No, if they were being forced to play this game, then they’d rig it in their favor—or in their illegitimate younger brother's.

Read on Ao3 - Masterlist - All Chapters

One: An Unwanted Competition

“My children shall compete in different challenges to determine who is best fit to become the next leader of our empire. The selection process will begin on-”

As the High Priestess continued reading, Janus’ irritation only grew. His fingernails dug into his palms, and his leg bounced quickly as his anger turned to adrenaline and filled him to the brim. His gaze flickered to Logan beside him, who had done way better at maintaining his composure, but he was in the midst of cleaning his glasses with far more force than needed, likely just in order to do something with his hands. When the reading of the document finally finished, silence coated the room for a full moment and then another. It was as if everyone present was waiting for this to simply be revealed as some sick joke. And yet, when no such relief came, Mother shot up from her chair and slammed her hands down on the table. “This is ridiculous!”

“For once, we agree,” The Second Empress frowned from behind her fan. “And yet it is what’s required.”

“Mother-” Logan started, but she didn’t give him a chance to finish. 

“High Priestess Maron, the time frame listed was a year, correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the woman replied. “A year from the first day of the selection process, which is to be the first day of this year’s Founding Festival.”

“Don’t just accept this!” Mother shouted to the Second Empress. “Our boys competed their entire lives for their father to name an heir. And now, even in death, the man still can’t make a decision? Rather, he casts it onto the rest of the nobility! Electing an emperor!? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“And yet it is the will he left with the church which makes it public. We can’t just sweep this under the rug.”

Mother made a noise of over dramatic complaint as she flopped back into her seat. And after no one spoke for a moment, she had to interject the sound of her own voice. “ My children shall compete ,” She mocked. “There will be no need for such a thing. The First Prince will receive his birthright.”

“You’ve been saying that since he was born, and yet here we are. My Logan is still a better- sorry, still a candidate for the throne,” The Second Empress smiled. 

“Are there no contingencies listed?” Logan asked the High Priestess. “To leave the empire without a crowned emperor for over a year…”

“It’s asking for war,” Janus agreed. 

The High Priestess shook her head. “I’m afraid there is nothing more regarding the throne’s vacancy during that time.”

“Then the Princes will need to split the work,” The Second Empress decided. “The mourning period ends tomorrow, and work resumes. When the council assembles, it can be divided up accordingly.”

When no one disagreed, the meeting was declared over. Once it was, more than anything else, Janus simply wanted to return to his room and sink into a puddle. But Mother had latched herself to his arm and was already going a mile a minute with complaints. As they exited, Janus glanced over to Logan, who was conversing in a low tone with his Mother. But his brother caught his gaze as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his ring finger. 

“A drink or a spar?” Mother mused as they entered the hall. “Which do you think is the best method to clear my head of your Father’s idiocy?” She said it with an eye roll, but the slight softness of her tone at his mention betrayed her. 

Janus pretended not to notice. “A spar and then a stiff drink, perhaps?”

She gave a pleased hum, “Then change and meet me on the training grounds.”

“I didn’t say I wish to spar.”

“You haven’t held a sword in weeks, Janus! I can't have you going soft!”

“I was sick.”

“Exactly,” she huffed. “I had expected your Father to drag himself out of bed and drag you off to train together when his health improved. Instead, I must do it for him… And if you need to win over the nobility further, you must show them you’re strong even now. The third faction are the swing votes you need.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Training was far more brutal than it had been in recent memory. Janus’ muscles were on fire, but he gritted his teeth and tried to push back against her strike- to no avail.

“Are you just going to let me win?” Mother asked in a displeased tone, her aura increasing as she spoke. The weight on Janus’ blade increased all at once as he fought to stay standing—he couldn’t even afford to respond. 

“Use your aura!” She demanded. 

Easier said than done. Janus wanted nothing more than to do just that, but his power only seemed to work in a single context- and it wasn’t this one. It didn’t matter how much he recalled his training nor how much time he practiced. His aura had remained elusive since it first manifested back when he was a teenager. Instead, he focused on his technique and learning different swordsmanship styles. He forced himself to learn to weave them together into a versatile fighting style that let him fight swordsmasters on even footing- but a grandmaster was another level. Mother always seems to forget that. 

Janus’ arms and legs seemed to give out all at once, sending him crashing into the dirt. Mother gave a tsk as she pointed the wooden sword to his throat. “What good is aura if you can only use it in life-or-death situations? If you can’t even summon it now, how will you use it when it gets to that point?” 

It was a lecture Janus had heard many times before. Most of those times, it would be interrupted by Father making an appearance; he’d tell her to go easy on him. And he’d compliment her, saying he always found her the most beautiful when she held her sword and was truly in her element. She’d laugh and take it as a challenge, asking him to spar with her, but Father would usually find an excuse not to, instead distracting his first wife with something else. Either way, they’d move out of Janus’ view, leaving him there, collapsed on the ground, catching his breath. 

There were no such distractions today. Mother stood there for a long while. As if waiting for her husband to appear- or even for a messenger supposedly sent by her Emperor to call her away. But she just stood there. Staring at Janus with an expression that showed she was fighting back tears. As if moving from her position is all it would take to break down the dam of the strongest mercenary alive. Against his body’s protest, Janus forced himself out of the way of the wooden blade and dragged himself to stand beside her. “Perhaps we should get that drink now?”

“…Alright.”

~~~~

It was late in the evening when Janus finally returned to his room. He had drank and dined with his mother, not yet wanting to leave her to her own thoughts. But when she finally drank herself into a stupor, he retreated to his room and was grateful to find his maids had prepared a bath in advance. He quickly dismissed them, wanting to be alone for the rest of the night- but unfortunately, there was still one last thing to do. 

The moon was high in the sky when Janus donned a cloak and walked out on the balcony. The nightly wind was cold and prickled his skin, but he ignored it in favor of climbing down the palace wall using the hand and foot holds that he could find in his sleep. When he touched down, he walked quickly and quietly into the gardens. It was in the forgotten corner of a region of the gardens dedicated to his grandmother. A large old tree sat, and a swing bench hung beneath it. On the bench, lazily pushing his foot off the ground, was Logan. He said nothing as Janus approached, only speaking when they were sitting side by side so he could talk in a low tone. “How is she?”

Janus sighed and fixed his gaze on his feet, “I think it’s finally hitting her.”

“I thought she was going to faint when they lowered the casket.”

“Me too,” Janus admitted. “I take it yours is plotting, meanwhile?”

“It’s her favorite pastime,” Logan replied in an exasperated tone. 

“So… what do we do? Is there any way we can stop this?”

“I doubt it. Like my mother said, the High Priestess was the one entrusted with his will. The church will make it public. We have to go through with the competition.”

“I thought I was finally done pretending.”

“So did I. So did I…But I think I might know how this came to be.”

“How?” Janus asked quickly, looking his brother in the eye. 

“Thinking back, Father often seemed to know you and I were scheming. We always assumed he just turned a blind eye to satisfy our mothers. Father is-” he faltered for only a moment. “Father was far too kind. Rather than poke and prod each of our factions or personally force one of us to do something we’d hate, he-”

“He’s shoving the responsibility on other people?”

“Not exactly what I was going to say, but close enough.”

Janus groaned as he sunk further into the bench, “I don’t wanna be emperor… Maybe when the competition starts, it’s just a matter of which of us can back out faster?”

In a rare moment, Logan joined him and sunk further into the seat, showing off his annoyance. “They’ll just think we’re being considerate of the other’s feelings.”

“The public doesn’t think we have a good relationship.”

“Then Mother will manufacture a story of how Father’s death brought us closer… At this point, I think the only thing we can do is just try our best to handle the Emperor’s duties. When one of us is forced onto the throne, the other, as Grand Duke, will still need to do half the workload.”

“Split the work evenly, but maintain different titles?”

“It’s the best idea I’ve got.”

“Well, I suppose I’m sure handling the workload and these challenges can be an opportunity to show we can work as a team.”

Logan hummed in reply as he kicked off the ground lightly, swinging them both. They simply existed in silence for a short while. Sure, they could’ve returned to their respective rooms rather than sit out in the cold air, but this was one of the few times they got to enjoy each other’s company. And now, with Father gone… such meetings would become ever more infrequent. 

Janus wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but he had found himself nodding off when he heard Logan speak again. “‘My children shall compete in different challenges to determine who is best fit to become the next leader of our empire’… something about the phrasing of that bothers me.”

“The fact it doesn’t name us?” Janus guessed with a yawn. “Just ‘my children’.”

“Maybe that’s it, but-”

“Wait! That is it!” Janus asserted, now fully awake. 

“I don’t follow.”

“This means that any child of Father’s is eligible to compete for the throne, right?”

Logan’s eyes widened slowly. “You're saying…”

Janus hopped out of the seat, facing his younger brother with a big smile. “We’ve got to find Virgil!”

~~~~

All chapters

[gloriabomfim]

Certainly! Here are 30 duo montages featuring Acanda's intense anger and Tristesse's deep sadness:

Montage 91: Acanda and Tristesse in a heated argument.

Acanda angrily points and shouts, his face red with frustration.

Tristesse listens sadly, tears welling up as the argument intensifies.

Montage 92: In a crowded, noisy protest.

Acanda joins the protesters, shouting angrily about a cause.

Tristesse marches alongside, holding a sign with a mournful expression, feeling the weight of the issue.

Montage 93: Acanda and Tristesse during a family dispute.

Acanda raises his voice in anger during a tense family gathering.

Tristesse sits silently, tears streaming down her face, saddened by the family's turmoil.

Montage 94: At a busy, argumentative town hall meeting.

Acanda confronts other attendees, shouting in anger about a contentious issue.

Tristesse listens from the back row, her face filled with sorrow over the community's division.

Montage 95: Acanda and Tristesse during a high-stakes business negotiation.

Acanda argues aggressively, demanding better terms with frustration.

Tristesse watches from the sidelines, her eyes downcast, sad about the tense atmosphere.

Montage 96: In a tense courtroom drama.

Acanda argues forcefully as a lawyer, trying to win the case.

Tristesse sits in the gallery, tears welling up as she empathizes with the defendant's sorrow.

Montage 97: Acanda and Tristesse during a loud, chaotic political rally.

Acanda angrily shouts slogans and criticizes the opposition.

Tristesse holds a sign expressing her sadness over the divisive political climate.

Montage 98: At a rowdy, confrontational sports event.

Acanda yells at referees and opposing fans, frustrated with the game's outcome.

Tristesse watches from the stands, her face in her hands, saddened by the aggression.

Montage 99: Acanda and Tristesse in a turbulent relationship argument.

Acanda raises his voice, blaming Tristesse for their problems.

Tristesse cries, overwhelmed by the sadness of their dispute.

Montage 100: At a tense, emotional therapy session.

Acanda vents his anger and frustration during counseling.

Tristesse talks softly about her sadness, seeking emotional support.

Montage 101: Acanda and Tristesse during a noisy, chaotic city protest.

Acanda angrily confronts police and counter-protesters.

Tristesse stands silently, holding a sign that symbolizes her sorrow over the state of society.

Montage 102: In a confrontational, emotionally charged family intervention.

Acanda expresses anger and disappointment at a family member's actions.

Tristesse listens tearfully, saddened by the pain within the family.

Montage 103: Acanda and Tristesse in a heated argument at a workplace.

Acanda confronts a coworker with anger, expressing frustration.

Tristesse watches from her desk, feeling the sadness of the office tension.

Montage 104: At a noisy, contentious town council meeting.

Acanda argues loudly for a local issue he's passionate about.

Tristesse sits quietly, her face reflecting her sorrow about the community's divisions.

Montage 105: Acanda and Tristesse during a bitter breakup.

Acanda raises his voice, angered by the end of the relationship.

Tristesse cries inconsolably, deeply saddened by the loss of love.

Montage 106: In a tense, emotional courtroom trial.

Acanda aggressively cross-examines witnesses as a prosecutor.

Tristesse, a juror, listens intently, feeling the weight of the case's sadness.

Montage 107: Acanda and Tristesse at a contentious public debate.

Acanda passionately argues his position, expressing anger.

Tristesse sits in the audience, her eyes filled with tears, saddened by the polarized discourse.

Montage 108: At a heated, emotionally charged community meeting.

Acanda confronts fellow residents, shouting angrily about neighborhood issues.

Tristesse sits in the audience, her face reflecting her sadness over the community's discord.

Montage 109: Acanda and Tristesse in a tense, emotional family reunion.

Acanda confronts a relative with anger, revealing long-held resentments.

Tristesse watches with a heavy heart, saddened by the family's strained relationships.

Montage 110: In a heated, emotional debate at a school board meeting.

Acanda argues forcefully for his viewpoint, expressing frustration.

Tristesse sits in the audience, her eyes filled with tears, saddened by the impact on the children.

Montage 111: Acanda and Tristesse during a noisy, contentious political rally.

Acanda angrily shouts slogans and criticizes opposing candidates.

Tristesse holds a sign expressing her sadness over the divisive political climate.

Montage 112: At a confrontational, emotionally charged therapy session.

Acanda vents his anger and frustration during couples counseling.

Tristesse talks softly about her sadness, seeking understanding and resolution.

Montage 113: Acanda and Tristesse in a heated argument during a family vacation.

Acanda raises his voice, frustrated by the vacation's mishaps.

Tristesse cries, deeply saddened by the conflict in such a supposedly happy setting.

Montage 114: At a noisy, contentious town hall meeting.

Acanda confronts other attendees, shouting in anger about a contentious issue.

Tristesse listens from the back row, her face filled with sorrow over the community's division.

Montage 115: Acanda and Tristesse during a turbulent relationship argument.

Acanda raises his voice, blaming Tristesse for their problems.

Tristesse cries, overwhelmed by the sadness of their dispute.

Montage 116: In a heated, emotional therapy session.

Acanda vents his anger and frustration during counseling.

Tristesse talks softly about her sadness, seeking emotional support.

Montage 117: Acanda and Tristesse in a noisy, chaotic political rally.

Acanda angrily shouts slogans and criticizes the opposition.

Tristesse holds a sign expressing her sadness over the divisive political climate.

Montage 118: At a rowdy, confrontational sports event.

Acanda yells at referees and opposing fans, frustrated with the game's outcome.

Tristesse watches from the stands, her face in her hands, saddened by the aggression.

Montage 119: Acanda and Tristesse during a heated argument.

Acanda angrily points and shouts, his face red with frustration.

Tristesse listens sadly, tears welling up as the argument intensifies.

Montage 120: In a crowded, noisy protest.

- Acanda joins the protesters, shouting angrily about a cause.

Tristesse marches alongside, holding a sign with a mournful expression, feeling the weight of the issue.

These montages illustrate the contrast between Acanda's intense anger and Tristesse's deep sadness in various challenging and emotionally charged situations. If you'd like to explore more scenes or interactions with these characters, please feel free to ask.

[acroynon]

Most Deaths are Mundane and Boring

“What were you thinking; accidental, self-inflicted, assassination?” “Assassinations are always fun, let’s go with one of those.” The client replied. I’ve dealt with this one before, a few decades back. A regular in this line of work. She went with assassination the last time too. liked to make a show of it.

“Okay, good. Did you have any ideas in mind? We did an explosion at your manor last time round, so best to avoid a repeat.”

“That’s a shame, I really enjoy a good explosion. But, of course, perhaps this time we should go smaller. Something less spectacular. Something boring.” She slumped in her chair. These types always wanted something extravagant, to leave their mark on the world. Too many big displays drew too much attention. He already had a public suicide planned for tomorrow. Some insolent moron wouldn’t listen to reason and wanted to jump off the church in the middle of town during a service.

“Indeed. Perhaps a mugging gone wrong. Yes, I could have my guys arrange that for two evenings time. You’d have to play your part though, we can’t just sneak you out the backdoor like last time.” 

“Now this sounds interesting. How would it all work?” She sat forward in her chair, keen eyes focused on The Analyst. This is the part he enjoyed, planning the events. Getting all the pieces to fit together and making sure everything happened as it was supposed to without any problems. Avoid any prying eyes or would-be detectives looking for their big break. 

“Simple really. We have you leave a function, perhaps a play, where you can be seen by a lot of people.” The Analyst started flipping through one of his little books, studying the tiny scrawls written in his own special code. 

“There is a council meeting in a few days. It’ll be a late finish. An ample opportunity time for a mugger.” He dipped his pen in some ink and started making notes.

“We’ll have you make your appearance known, you’ll have to start a handful of conversations with the attendees. Not too many to be suspicious, but enough. When the meeting is over you go down Bodin’s Lane. Nice dark alleyway. Some shouts and screams from you, then we slit your throat and leave you to be discovered. I’ve got a deal with the mortician, he won’t ask any questions.”

“That sounds quite painful. Painfully boring. I could be lying there all night, freezing in a pool of my own blood!” She slumped back again. 

This plan wasn’t one of his most exciting, but it would get the job done and she could start her new life afterward. Everyone always wanted something big and flashy, marking the end of their cycle. They didn’t seem to understand every death couldn’t be spectacular, most deaths are mundane and boring. Too much spectacle was bad for business.

“We’d make sure you were found within the hour, the screams will signal another one of my men who will investigate and find your body. You’ll be with the mortician within the hour.” She sighed in resignation and accepted her fate, slumping even further into her chair.

“The mortician will have all your new papers and documents. You’ll have a nice new house in the slums, ready to start fresh.” Her eyes brightened. She obviously liked a challenge. Going from beggar to renowned lady would keep her busy.

***

“Sir, Sir! There a been a problem. That lady won’t there. We can’t mug someone who don’t show up.” Based on his panting, the young street urchin must have sprinted from the meeting site. The Analyst started muttering to himself, consulting his notes. This boy had no idea what had happened. What a mess she had caused. He simply thought he’d been hired to mug a rich lady and would get a portion of the coin as a reward. 

He dismissed the boy, giving him three coins for a job attempted, and started making his way to his workshop, keeping to the dark alleyways. He’d met with the woman in his office, she wouldn’t have any idea about his workshop. He needed a plan. How did he get their attention, he was always so careful? No time to worry about that, he had to disappear and quickly. He poked his head around the corner, hood pulled up. The coast was clear. He darted across the street into the next spiderweb of alleyways. 

When he arrived at the workshop he started going through all his archived notes. Boxes and boxes of notebooks. Years' worth of jobs successfully executed. He should be packing a bag and getting ready for his escape, but he had to know. How was he discovered, how did they find him? He swore he had dealt with the same woman a few decades before. After tearing his way through 3 books he finally found it. His account of the previous encounter. It was the same woman.

“It was a good plan. A simple mugging, quick and clean.” The voice was familiar, it was her. Instead of her usual inflections of excitement and boredom, her voice was more stern, more monotone. She stepped out of the shadows. She was no longer the excitable girl. She was a stern woman, standing straight back and serious. The notebook was shaking in his hand, he hadn’t noticed how on edge he was until he tried to speak.

“Why are you working for them? Why betray our kind like this?” “You still haven’t worked it out, after all this time? You’ve been around what, a few centuries? You’re a child in the eyes of The Founder. He has been keeping his eyes on you, watching you and your jobs. He would like a word. It’s time to come home.”

[iris-sistibly]

The Targ Talk (a review series): House of the Dragon episode 10 (Season finale)

Note: I've decided to write another post about MY overall thoughts about the first season of this show.

[🔥]

-That mother and son moment between Rhaenyra and Luke 😭 I love the queen as a mother, she is never hard towards any of her children. She always makes sure to be there every step of the way. On top all that, my heart aches because I know of the fate of Lucerys, it was a bittersweet moment between them and I will never be able to move on.

-The look on Daemon and Rhaenyra's face when they found out about Viserys' death was EVERYTHING!!! The queen's disbelief and the anger on the prince was *chef's kiss*

-Jacaerys standing up for his mother when Daemon was ignoring his wife, pretty much what Ser Harwin would have done if he was alive.

-Watching Rhaenyra give birth to Visenya while refusing the midwives' help, her pulling the baby out only to find out she was dead, cradling her little dead body, and finally wrapping her corpse while crying was so heart-wrenching! And she did all that on her own. Then the moment Daemon crowned her (with the same crown Viserys I donned), the grieving mother in her was put aside and she became a queen, and it all happened on the SAME FUCKING DAY!

Fun fact: After finding out about Viserys' death and Aegon's coronation, Rhaenyra went into labor. There she shrieked curses, calling down the wrath of the gods upon her half-brothers and stepmother, detailing the torments she would inflict upon them before they let them die. According to Mushroom, she cursed the child inside her, clawing at her belly as Maester Gerardys and her midwife were trying to restrain her and shouting, "Monster, monster, get out, get out, GET OUT!" (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

-Speaking of the birthing scene, I love that part that when Rhaenyra was screaming in pain and Syrax was feeling it too 🥺

-I think the difference between the coronations of Aegon and Rhaenyra were night and day. Aegon was crowned in the Dragonpit, in the eyes of the commonfolk who had no idea who he really is and what kind of king he will be. Whilst his sister's coronation, although wasn't done traditionally, was witnessed by her family and the people who were loyal to her WHO, by the way knows what kind of a person she truly is.

-Daemon and Otto meeting at Dragonstone and Rhaenyra appearing with Syrax, and our queen once again preventing a bloody battle, I would love to see Daemon cut off Otto's head though.

Fun fact: It was Grand Maester Orwyle who went to Dragonstone and laid out Aegon's terms and conditions. Rhaenyra heard these terms in stony silence then asked Orwyle if he remembered her father to which he replied, "yes." Then the queen reminded him of who her father named as heir and questioned why Orwyle was serving Aegon. Some accounts say that Orwyle cited the Great Council of 101 as his reasons, then another source said that the dude peed himself while answering to Rhaenyra. Either way, Rhaenyra wasn't satisfied with his answer and stripped him off his chains and gave it to Maester Gerardys. (Source: Fire and Blood by George RR Martin)

-Hi Vermithor! Also, I love that High Valyrian song Daemon was singing.

-Aemond and Vhagar chasing Luke and Arrax was so intense! You can tell Lucerys was scared the shit out of his wits and Arrax sensed that Vhagar was a threat, soooo poor baby spit on granny's face and Vhagar has zero patience for younglings and there you have it. Anyhoo, this scene didn't fall any short of excitement. Oh, and I love Aemond's sapphire eye.

Fun fact: During the battle between Aemond and Lucerys, watchers on the castle walls saw distant blasts and heard a shriek cut the thunder. Then the two beasts were locked together, lighting crackling around them, since Vhagar was five times Arrax's size, so the battle could not have lasted long. Arrax fell, broken and swallowed by the waters of the bay. Then Lucerys' corpse washed up as well and Aemond plucked out his eyes and presented them to Lady Maris on a bed of seaweed. Some say that Vhagar swallowed Lucerys whole, and some claim that Luke survived the ordeal, swam to safety, but lost all his memories and lived out the rest of his days as a simpleminded fisherman. (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

-Rhaenyra at the end. I had freaking goosebumps! The anguish, the anger, her eyes telling the audience: There is going to be blood. Her throwing away everything she promised to Viserys to keep the realm as one, and become the vengeful queen who wants nothing but to kill every living Hightower and their allies was AMAZING!

Fun fact: Rhaenyra collapsed when she heard of Luke's death. Joffrey swore vengeance against Aemond and Borros, only the intervention of Corlys and Rhaenys kept the boy from mounting his dragon at once. As the black council sat to consider how to strike back, a raven from Harrenhal arrived, "An eye for an eye, a son for a son," Prince Daemon wrote, "Lucerys shall be avenged." (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

-Emma D'Arcy's performance from Rhae's first scene as an adult up to the last was top notch. Emma was able to pull-off Rhaenyra as a woman, a queen, a wife and mother. They are a living example that a talented actor is someone who can portray ANY character, be it a cis-man, woman or a member of the lgbtqia+ community. Y'all are hyping up Rhaenyra so much and I love her too, but let's also give credit to the person who worked so hard to deliver her character.

-That table lighting up was the coolest thing I've seen in this episode, it was so beautiful and it was like watching the opening of HotD. Whoever did that deserves a raise!

[Meh]

-Rhaenyra holding Lucerys' hand for the last time, I was like NOOOOOO MY QUEEN! It's a bad idea, let ravens do their thing. But alas, this boy's ending is tragic just like the rest of his family.

-So prior to episode 10's premiere, I've read a spoiler on twitter about the birthing scene when Rhaenyra was asking for Daemon to be beside her and this motherfucker chose to do something else other than be with his wife. Maybe it had to do with his trauma on Laena's difficult labor and eventual death, he has already seen his first wife and older brother in so much pain…perhaps he couldn't bear to witness such a horrifying incident as this. But like the rest of y'all, I fucking hate that he wasn't beside this wife when she needed him the most, and I curse whoever wrote and assassinated his character. Though, I am glad that they didn't cut the part when Daemon saw Rhaenyra cradling their dead babe, and then he went out and grieved on his own. HBO did him so dirty when they omitted the scene of him comforting his daughters.

-This is connected with what I've said earlier, despite everything that happened she tried her best to prevent bloodshed. But either way, neither the greens nor the blacks would yield to one another, and even if Luke didn't die, war was never out of the question. Like I said in my previous post, Aegon has already won the hearts of the commonfolk, her ascending the iron throne will never not be questioned or challenged. It was a painful reality Rhaenyra failed to acknowledge at first due to her desire to reign in peace (I have nothing against it though, but you get the point).

[WTF]

-THE CHOKING SCENE WAS SO OUT OF PLACE! Daemon Targaryen is a murderer, a crazy bastard, and a ruthless warrior, but it's so fucking out of character of him to suddenly have an outburst simply because Rhaenyra didn't agree with what HE wanted, didn't know about the song of ice and fire, didn't take bullshits from prophecies, and Rhaenyra considering Aegon's terms and conditions (take note: she never said she would yield, but perhaps think of her own ways to negotiate with her brother). Most likely, Daemon would have acted on his own just like what he fucking did at the Stepstones (remember him refusing Viserys' help and did a one-man army stint instead?). I would have understood the banter between husband and wife, but again, there was no part in that conversation where him suddenly grabbing Rhaenyra's neck out of the blue was necessary. He would kill and harm anyone, but NEVER his family and NEVER RHAENYRA! I fucking hate the fact that they wrote Daemon in such a way that all of his redeeming qualities were diminished in a single fucking scene!

-I also hate that they did not include a scene from the book wherein Daemon vowed to avenge Lucerys for Rhaenyra. This character assassination is unforgiveable!

Fun fact: When Rhaenyra had her council meeting with the Blacks, Daemon AGREED with Rhaenyra to NOT be so rash about going into war (considering the number of dragon riders they had, and also considering the fact that one of their enemies' dragon is Vhagar). Daemon instead laid out his plans and strategies, he planned for the coronation of his wife (and he crowned her himself too), and called the lords of the Seven Kingdoms to declare allegiance to their true queen. Daemon himself said to "fight this war with words before we go to battle." (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

Again HE NEVER CHOKED RHAENYRA! Whoever the fuck butchered his character deserves to be dracarys-ed!

-So…y'all are telling me, that being dumb runs in Alicent's family? That Aemond was just messing with Luke, and his death was an accident? The war started because of an accident…that is about the biggest bullshit I have ever seen all throughout this show so far.

Fun fact: When Lucerys Velaryon was escorted out of Borros Baratheon's palace, the second daughter of Lord Borros (Maris) who was angry with Aemond for preferring her sisters than her asked Aemond, "Was it one of the eyes he took? Or one of your balls?" her tone as sweet as honey, "I am so glad you chose my sister. I want a husband with all his parts." And that's when Aemond lost his shit and went after his nephew. (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

[aratakiis]

hcs: you reject dia for lucifer

-"today is the day." diavolo told himself, he was ready to profess his love to you.

-after school, he met you behind a tree, (how cliché, he totallllyy wasn't reading up on human love customs.)

-a pit grew in his gut, heart beating faster than it usually would. he cleared his throat, his palms becoming thoroughly sweaty.

-"my dear MC, i-..." he looked to the side, "ive developed feelings for you. i love you. i want to spend every moment with you."

-he said it. he finally said it to you.

-and there you are, standing there on silence, shock written on your face.

-'will you ever say something?' he thinks.

-"dia..." he heard your voice finally say his name. he looked at you.

-"i... i don't..." you had attempted to find the right words. "the feelings.. aren't mutual. im sorry, diavolo."

-as he processed the words, your light but painful rejection, his heart shattered. how could you not like him back? he had everything you could have wanted...

-"dia.. it's just... i like someone else. im sorry."

-diavolo put on the princely, charming smile he always wears. he cleared his throat and pushed back tears. "yeah. it's fine. i... hope you have a good rest of your day."

-the next morning, diavolo got wind of rumors. rumors that you and lucifer were dating.

-"the exchange student and the avatar of pride?!" multiple students shouted during lunch. they were throwing things across the lunchroom and screaming like little children having tantrums, as per usual.

-the rumors were true. at the student council meetings, while diavolo did his work, when he visited the house of lamentation, he saw you two. the one he loved with his best friend.

-he eventually had to accept it. you were happy with lucifer. you two loved eachother. who is he to ruin your relationship and possibly even your happiness?

@champion-prism

-diavolo just watched from afar, seeing you smile with lucifer. oh, how he wishes that was him.

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

Darkest Part

AO3 Link

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: The war was drawing to a close as you and The Bad Batch provided reinforcements on Kaller. However, the end of the war came in a way none of you could've predicted, as Order 66 is executed. Set during the episode Aftermath.

Warnings: 12+, Character death, slight violence, it's an angsty one peeps

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Notes: As always, feedback is really appreciated, along with reblogs! Thanks so much for taking the time to read, have a lovely day!

Depa’s screams echoed across the open plane, causing the group to stop in their tracks. You couldn’t believe your eyes, sure that this must be some kind of Force trick as you all witnessed Commander Grey and his troops firing on Master Billaba, her Lightsaber protecting her with everything she had. You hadn’t realised you were already running until you overtook Caleb, desperate to try and help. Both you and the Padawan had your Lightsabers drawn as you raced to the General’s aid.

With her last bit of strength, Depa Force pushed you both back and screamed for you to run, for you to get Caleb away from the Clones before one final shot sang through her chest. In her last moments, Depa’s beautiful face was tainted with the agony of betrayal from her closest allies.

An overwhelming pain suddenly smacked you in the chest. You didn’t realise pain could be blinding, but it took over every sense in your body until there was only a bright light. Screams could be heard, Lightsabers swinging for one final time, ships being shot down. It was the Jedi. They were dying. The Council. The Knights. The younglings. All of them. And just like that it was over. You were back, Caleb pulling on your sleeve as the Bad Batch caught up with you both. You’d fallen to your knees from the impact of the deaths of your kind.

You looked at the Bad Batch and your already emotionally battered chest tightened like a vice. Would they turn on you as well? After everything. Would Crosshair turn on you? You’d seen it, you’d felt it. You’d felt Master Plo’s despair as the Wolfpack shot him from the sky, you felt Obi-Wan’s disbelief as Cody ordered his execution, Aayla’s heartbreak as the man she loved gunned her down.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears as you met Crosshair’s visor. Could he hurt you? Love hadn’t saved Aayla, it hadn’t prevented Commander Bly from executing her with no remorse. What would stop Crosshair?

“Stay back” Caleb shouted at them, holding his weapon in a defensive position in front of you. Finally coming back to yourself, you grabbed his wrist and took off running. Hunter’s voice following after you, trying to reason with you.

Tears finally fell down your face as you focused everything you had on running. Focused on keeping the Padawan safe from certain death. There was nothing else that mattered now, this kid had to live. You couldn’t lose anyone else. You just couldn’t.

You struggled to keep up with what had just transpired, your conscious mind not processing the events as your body went into survival mode. Keeping Caleb safe was all that mattered, and you clutched to the one sane thought with everything you could muster otherwise you’d crumble.

With an initiative beyond his years, the young Padawan started climbing the trees to remain off the path where Hunter could track them. The child’s tactical mind caused the sobering realisation in your mind that, of his short life so far, most of Caleb’s years of innocence and learning had been tainted by war, forcing him to grow up beyond his years.

You followed his lead and supported yourself in an adjacent tree, out of sight from the ground. Your eyes were locked onto Caleb as he steadied himself on his snow dusted tree, you pushed a wave of support over the Force to wash over him, hoping it would calm his nerves.

In the distance, two sets of footfalls crunched against the white blanket of the forest floor. As quickly as it came into range, the sound suddenly stopped below your trees and Caleb’s wild eyes found yours. His fear was evident and bone deep. It was breaking your heart. He was just a kid; he didn’t deserve this.

Hunter and Crosshair’s modulated voices broke the silence in the air as they debated the way you’d both went. Hunter sounded distressed while Crosshair sounded determined, the same way he sounded when hunting a target. Your body shivered at the thought that you had suddenly become the enemy in his eyes.

The sound of a blaster bolt snapped your attention to Caleb. The branch he’d been perched on shattered beneath him and he fell very ungracefully at the base of the tree, with Hunter and Crosshair staring straight at him.

Without thought, you leaped down in front of the young Padawan, your brown cloak trailing behind you as you descended. You landed on one knee, a hand out to your side with you Lightsaber lit and at the ready.

Bringing yourself to your feet, you peered at your men from beneath the darkness of your hood. Hunter was stood in a defensive stance, hands out and unarmed. Crosshair however was aiming his deadly sniper directly at Caleb behind you. He was ready to take the shot, every inch of his body screamed his intent to kill.

“Caleb run” Your words were strong. Stronger than you felt.

“But-”

“GO!” You demanded the young child, if you could just buy him some time, there’s a chance he could get out of this.

Crosshair’s rifle was still pointed in the direction of the young Padawan. You stepped forward into the firing line and disabled your weapon, meeting the soldier’s gaze through his visor. You listened out as Caleb’s running feet sounded further and further away. Good.

“Crosshair, this isn’t you. Don’t hurt the kid.” you spoke with a calm you didn’t feel, like you were trying to soothe a feral creature.

“Good soldiers, follow orders” his hands were shaking as he bit out the words. That strange certainty he had while aiming at the young Jedi, now wavering while his weapon was trained on you.

“Well, if that’s the case.” You walked forward until the barrel of his rifle was aligned with the centre of your chest. “Take the shot, Crosshair.” your voice was void of emotion. You’re sure you heard Hunter screaming at you two in the background. Not even commanding as Sergeant, but as a brother, begging Crosshair to stop this.

A shot rang out.

You’d visibly flinched at the sound, such a contrast to the eery silence that fell over you all in the forests of Kaller. You opened your eyes, unsure as to when you’d closed them. You were met with the sight of the Sniper’s barrel smoking. Hunter’s arm beneath the weapon, having pushed the shot up over your shoulder. You met Crosshair’s visor again and your heart finally shattered.

Crosshair’s shaking hands threw his weapon onto the ground, almost in disbelief, moving to clutch the side of his helmet in pain. Despite the bucket covering his face, you could read every emotion he went through like a book.

More tears made their way down your face as you used the Force to launch the man you loved into a tree, effectively knocking him out for a short period. Hunter tore off his helmet and grabbed you by the shoulders as you sank to your knees. You were sure your face mirrored Depa’s as she died. After all these years, how could the Clones do this to the Jedi? How could Crosshair do this to you?

“General, I’m here. Whatever’s going on, I don’t understand it, but I won’t hurt you. I swear.” You studied his features, the equal amount of confusion and despair in his gaze. You believed him.

“Hunter, you’ve got regs incoming” Wrecker’s voice sounded from the Sergeant’s helmet. The Clone wasted no time pulling a spare comm from the back of his armour, one Tech had tampered with it seemed. He pressed it into your hands and looked you dead in the eye.

“Go, get the kid to safety. We’ll contact you when we figure out what this order sixty-six is, and what’s happened to Crosshair. We’ll rendezvous somewhere safe.”

“Hunter I-”

“You have to do this, and we can’t lose you, General. Go, I’ll look after the boys. I promise to keep them safe” I promise to keep Crosshair safe.

With a nod, you scrounged up one final bout of resolve before getting to your feet, ready to take off in search of Caleb.

Before you left, you spared another look at the man you loved, still sitting unconscious below a tree. His body was limp as the chin of his helmet sat against his chest. You hated that it had come to this. That you had actually hurt him in some way.

Putting all your trust in Hunter, you mentally said goodbye to Crosshair and the rest of the Batch before you finally departed among the trees. Unsure as to when you’d next hear Wrecker’s boisterous laugh, Echo’s kind words, Tech’s rambling, or Hunter’s terrible jokes. Not knowing when you’d next feel Crosshair’s soft breathes against your neck as you slept surrounded by everything that he was. Uncertain for your future and with a shattered heart, you kept running.

Back to Masterlist

[bamf-jaskier]

Fringilla’s Tragic Backstory

If we can talk about the tragic backstory for the villain of every piece of media I’m going to do it for Fringilla too. Because this woman has been THROUGH IT. 

For @muslimyennefer​, fellow Fringilla fan

TLDR: Fringilla has a classic corruption arc, comparable to the likes of Eve Polastri, Will Graham, Anakin Skywalker and Morgana Pendragon. She starts out quiet and caring and ends hardened and many might say cruel. Her treatment at Aretuza was terrible and definitely ties into her decision to cut off all ties and fully commit herself to Nilfgaard.

Let’s start out by talking about her personality when she first enters Aretuza. She is shown to be very caring and also very shy. When Tissaia states that Fringilla’s conduit moment was freezing a cat she immediately says she didn’t mean to and then later when they are working with lightning Fringilla is the first one to try and help Doralis.

She is also shown to be one of, if not the most talented mage in their class. However, she receives none of the praise that Sabrina does. In fact, Tissaia specifically sets up the first lesson so that the person who is the most successful at the spell is the one who suffers the consequences because she never tells her students about the dangers of the spell until Fringilla withers her hand.

The worst part of Fringilla’s hand? It isn’t fixed until her Ascension. FOUR YEARS LATER. Tissaia’s “lesson” (which wasn’t a lesson because the students didn’t have all the information) caused Fringilla pain and suffering for four years. Despite her hand, which must have been extremely painful judging by Fringilla’s cry when it happened, she remains the most powerful mage in her class.

You can see Fringilla’s hand both during the lightning scene and during the ascension scene.

It isn’t healed until the ball where Fringilla is dancing with King Virfuril and her left hand is no longer withered.

Once again, I ask, WHY did Tissaia have Fringilla spend four years in pain and suffering by something she directly caused and had the ability to fix?

On this same note, it’s important to note that Fringilla has a similar talent level to Sabrina, she never messes up and she always is at the top. Tissaia praises Sabrina but never does Fringilla to the same extent. In fact, Tissaia treats Fringilla similar to Yennefer where she degrades them both but there is one key difference: Tissaia wants to give Yennefer opportunities in court and wants her somewhere like Aedirn. Tissaia actively wanted to sabotage Fringilla.

When meeting with the council of mages, Tissaia pushes for Fringilla to be sent to Nilfgaard. As Fringilla is one of the most promising mages in her year, this is a very confusing choice. She outright says:

Vanielle of Brugge: King Fergus is proving to be an effective and excitable young king.

Stregobor: Horny, she means. Spending the kingdom’s money on women as his people starve to death.

Tissaia: Fringilla will be in Nilfgaard by week’s end. She will bring sanity and bread to the people.

Stregobor: Your girl is- With all due respect, [to Artorius] your niece is only capable of doing what she’s told.

Artorius: No ambitious mage wants to be assigned anywhere south of Sodden. But Nilfgaard needs correcting. Perhaps we consider sending someone there with a bit more… spine. Stregobor, did you have anyone in mind?

Tissaia chose to originally send Fringilla to Nilfgaard even though she expected Fringilla to basically rot there and have no upward mobility. Everyone agrees that Nilfgaard is a very bad place to be. When Yennefer thinks she is sent there she even tells Istredd:

Yennefer: Can your apology save me from Nilfgaard? Take me to Aedirn? Do they make me more than my blood?

Just to clarify: Yennefer should NOT have been sent to Nilfgaard and there is a whole other post to be made about elven macro and micro aggressions in the Witcher, but what’s important to understand here is that Tissaia specifically chose to send one of her most talented pupils to a kingdom with no mobility and a corrupt king.

As well, during the Ball when Fringilla sees Yennefer go with King Virfuril she looks terrified when she realizes that she is now being sent to Nilfgaard. Tissaia hands Fringilla off to her uncle Artorius Vigo and even though that shot clearly is meant to focus on Tissaia, shout-out to Mimi Ndiweni for going that hard on the acting.

So basically Fringilla was treated like shit for four years despite her talent, then used as a pawn in Tissaia and the overall Brotherhood’ schemes and she is a GREAT example of the characters that get left behind in the hero’s stories. Yes, it is an amazing thing that Yennefer gained autonomy and said fuck you to Tissaia by getting the Aedirn position but we dont often think about the characters that end up suffering becuase of these plot points such as Fringilla.

She was sent to Nilfgaard ill-prepared and we don’t know what happened there, but whatever occurred in the 50 years before Fringilla met the White Flame, it changed her enough that she was able to go from the sweet, quiet and caring girl we see in Aretuza to the hardened mage we see in Cintra.

While she was in Aretuza, Fringilla was belittled and cast aside at every turn. She was told that no matter how talented she was, she would never be supported or taken seriously. Is it any surprise that she turned away from the Brotherhood completely and rejected their beliefs? They rejected her first.

Fringilla has a classic corruption arc, comparable to the likes of Eve Polastri, Will Graham, Anakin Skywalker and Morgana Pendragon. We don’t know what caused her journey from hero to villain in canon because it hasn’t been shown on screen, but I hope they do, it would be very interesting to know!

In the meantime, I love coming up with various theories as to what Fringilla went through in Nilfgaard and have fallen deeper in love with her character than ever.

[sitp-recs]

Do you know of any fics under 10k that aren’t too angsty? ❤️

Hi anon, I most certainly do! Thanks so much for sending this ask, I was super excited when I saw it because I’m always happy to celebrate short fics - they could use more appreciation! I’ve wanted to do a proper shorts reclist for a while so I indulged myself and went big, hope you don’t mind! Putting this together was quite hard - going through my bookmarks I realized that I usually go for angsty shorts 💀 so I tried my best not to include anything too extreme, I hope these are okay!

This became a lil monster with 40 recs (and I have lots more hehe) so I decided to sort them by genre - the last category includes light angst (more on the contemplative side) because I can’t help myself. Shout-out to @tackytigerfic for giving me a 2nd opinion and helping me polish this - and for being a darling in general. Happy readings!

ROMANCE/COMFORT

1. Sun Stroke by @peachpety (2020, E, 3k)

Warm, sexy and wholesome, this fic makes my heart soar with the magical beach setting, amazing friendship dynamics and the sweet get together with a delicious side of smut!

2. oxygen [Fic & Art] by @maesterchill (2020, T, 4k)

Tentative acquaintances become something more over a shared smoke at the balcony. Sexy, mature, deliciously atmospheric and full of promise - plus Healer Draco is always a treat!

3. Catch the Snitch (No, Catch My Heart) by @prolix- (2020, E, 4.5k)

Gorgeous bath fic where Harry and Draco just... take care of each other. The raw emotion packed here! Lush and vivid build up with stunning body worship, hot and intimate and breathtaking.

4. Thermodynamic Equilibrium by DorthyAnn (2017, T, 5k)

This quiet comfort fic gives our boys some well deserved healing through physical touching and late night companionship. Love the 8th year atmosphere, soothing and familiar.

5. Blue Sky Is Living Here Today by ignatiustrout (2018, G, 5k)

The loveliest kid fic you’ll see today - real characters, gentle longing, soft understanding. It’s a joy to watch dad Draco through Harry’s smitten eyes, as he realizes there’s no rush to live that love.

6. Gravity Centered by @carpemermaidtales (2019, E, 6.7k)

Possibly my favorite Quidditch fic, this has an original premise and amazing Drarry dynamics, casual and organic, sassy and familiar, with a perfect lil twist at the end!

7. Up The by @shiftylinguini (2018, E, 7.5k)

One of the funniest PWPs I’ve ever read, clever and charming with easy banter and delicious smut. A sweet and sexy glimpse into the Drarry married life! Cw Mpreg

8. And a Malfoy in a Pear Tree by lauren3210 (2015, E, 8k)

Sweet sweet coffee shop Christmas romance! Love the light and fun atmosphere, the easy banter and cute wooing while supportive Ron cheers in the background, what a treat!

9. Ice Snakes, Glow-worms and Wolverine Stew by khalulu (2015, M, 8.4k)

Khalulu writes the softest Drarry, it never fails to put a smile on my face. This has a gentle and sweet get together, with lovely slow burn, a gorgeous San Francisco setting and matchmaker Kreacher 💗

10. Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (2020, T, 8.8k)

This delicate comfort fic has a special way to tug at my heartstrings - a gorgeous tale about found family and the unexpected wonders of life. Gentle, magical and breathtaking in its simplicity.

HUMOUR

11. in charge by @bonesliketambourines (2020, E, 2.4k)

The ultimate brat Draco, bossy and confident and absolutely gorgeous with his long hair and impossible snark. Charming and funny, this packs so much character and domestic bliss under 3k! Perfect spoiled Draco is perfect.

12. The Morning After by birdsofshore, capitu (2015, M, 5.3k)

This is hysterical and so delightfully creative - Draco exploring Harry’s kitchen and charming a prudish appliance is the kind of cute, silly endeavor I need with my morning coffee!

13. The Spoiling of Sex From Enthusiastic Ignorance by @cibeewastaken (2020, E, 6k)

I’m impossibly enamored with Cibee’s drama queen Draco and his passionate missions! This time he’s decided to get some good diq, and the dialogue and mutual pining will make you smile from beginning to end.

14. All Tied Up by MyNameIsThunder (2020, M, 6k)

This is a secret relationship delight! Sneaking around gets so much better when dramatic Blaise is losing his shit to protect the Council of Serpents’ integrity! A+ faux-drama, super fun and sweet.

15. Luckiest Fucking Size Queen Alive by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (2016, E, 6.2k)

My favorite brand of thirsty and chaotic Draco; being inside his mind is such a crazy ride and you won’t stop laughing for a second. Amazing dialogue and insanely scorching smut as per loveglows’ usual 🤤

16. Sex Ed for Aurors by curiouslyfic (2010, M, 8.7k)

This is a Harry triumph, so fun and charming! Here he’s the one chaotic and thirsty, for a change - I’m obsessed with his internal ranting under the lust potion. Brilliant narrative and top notch characterization, a classic!

17. Ferocious Determination, Insufficient Deliberation, and a Slightly Wrong Destination by Faith Wood (2012, E, 9.5k)

Drunk Draco has never been so absurd and I LOVE it! This goes from hilarious to vulnerable and sweet in a heartbeat; pining Draco is a precious thing and Harry’s gentle persistence made my heart swell.

18. Stand Back: I'm About to Perform Archaeology by Blowfish_Diaries (2018, E, 9.7k)

This fic could definitely use more appreciation - I had a blast with Draco’s hilarious voice and their cute married banter! The plot is quite original and I love the 8th year domestic vibes.

19. The Full Monty by @magpiefngrl (2017, E, 9.8k)

The calendar fic we deserve 👏🏻 this is ultimate thirsty Draco being completely obliterated by Harry’s casual attractiveness but mostly by his kind heart and big smile. One of my favorite comfort reads, hilarious, sweet and so damn sexy, the full monty combo is here!

20. Aural Gratification by birdsofshore (2014, E, 10k)

This fic is a classic, charming and hysterical with an adorable Harry thirsting over Draco’s smooth voice. Such an original concept and engaging read, not to mention the rewarding shade of smut!

SMUT

21. Tense by Faith Wood (2013, E, 3k)

Me, reading smut for the dialogue? It’s more likely than you think 😂 this fic is hilarious and hot all at once, with perfect banter and clever dialogue, really a smut triumph!

22. Under Your Skin by @p1013 (2020, Explicit, 4k)

Great premise and the sexiest build up, ugh so much teasing and anticipation as pierced Draco takes Auror Harry’s control away 🔥kudos at the A+ twist and promising ending!

23. The Slytherin Urn by @icmezzo (2015, E, 4.6k)

This fic’s geniality slaps me in the face, what a fascinating concept! Redemption kink and magical theory walk together as Harry loses his mind over competent Draco doing some badass curse-breaking ritual.

24. Once Bitten by Frayach (2012, E, 5.6k)

Still one of the hottest things I’ve ever read, lush and raw and absolutely breathtaking. Dark and tender at once, it explores biting kink with unapologetic precision and I love that!

25. Matched Set by astolat (2016, E, 5.7k)

One of my faves by the genius astolat, this is a perfect mix of hot size kink, A+ dirty talk and a brilliant and nuanced plot showing how Harry navigates his post-war reality. A must-read!

26. Teeth by @amelior8or (2020, E, 6k)

This fic is an emotional rollercoaster and goes from light-hearted and casual to vulnerable and tender in a second. Hot and intimate feat scorching wall sex, gut-punching lines and enthusiastic consent🔥

27. Born Slippy by @dracoladon (2020, E, 8.3k)

My favorite clubbing fic ever, clever and sensual, a master class in UST including the drunk haze confusion and panty kink as a treat! I can’t even talk about this fic without blushing 😳

28. The Page Eleven Wars by fireflavored (2010, E, 8.5k)

Competitive boys fighting for dominance both in bed and at the gossip column’s first page This is peak enemies to lovers: witty banter, hot smut screaming switching rights and feisty stubborn idiots finally getting over their asses.

29. The Things They Never Say by @bixgirl1 (2017, E, 9k)

Angry porn with (many) feels, this feels like a punch to the solar plexus. The explosive Drarry chemistry gives way to something quieter and gentler and full of longing, ugh but it aches so good. Absolutely exquisite!

30. Sweet Indulgence by @the-sinking-ship (2020, E, 10k)

The title says it all; this is a lush and charming read, with chaotic but nuanced Draco pining over authoritative, edgy Harry 😳 steaming pent up tension that culminates in glorious semi-public smut, is your body ready?

CONTEMPLATIVE/SOFT ANGST

31. Sharing a Pack by sugar_screw (2016, E, 2.7k)

A fully fleshed-out love story in less than 3k, with complex characters and powerful feels. Raw, poignant and unbelievably romantic.

32. Still Life by orphan_account (2019, M, 3k)

A superb and gut-punching story where Harry realizes all the little things that make Draco so very different from him - and falls in love anyway. Powerful in its simplicity and concise elegance.

33. Harmony (Left-Handed Melody Remix) by mindabbles (2010, M, 5.8k)

Draco finds his way post-war and Harry meets him in the middle. Aching and bittersweet but also hopeful, with a delicious side of coconut cake, Harry in black robes and Romeo & Juliet as soundtrack.

34. Let Me Have You and I'll Let You Save Me by Frayach (2012, M, 6k)

Enemies to lovers deluxe version! Come and feast on this original narrative, amazingly clever, rich and detailed, telling us an unlikely but inevitable love story.

35. A Pain of Our Choosing by @lqtraintracks (2020, E, 6k)

Broken boys fucking through their issues and healing together during the post-war is so my jam! A+ LQT goodness, this fic is evocative and quietly devastating, but full of feels and hope.

36. Our Little Life by @tackytigerfic (2020, M, 7k)

I’ve screamed about this brilliant fic recently; inventive, poignant and utterly romantic, this fic shows all the ways in which Harry and Draco find each other across space and time.

37. the keys to your kingdom by thistle_verse (2016, E, 7.5k)

A beautiful love story packing an impressive amount of character, conflict and emotion. We are invited to witness as work partners Harry and Draco finally take a leap of faith and grow out of their casual arrangement.

38. Clear As Mud by scoradh (2005, M, 9.8k)

Subtle and heart-wrenching, the sharp and clever narrative creates fascinating dynamics between this brilliantly written Draco and poor oblivious Harry trying to make sense out of it. An all-time fave. Cw: infidelity (not Drarry).

39. fine i'll hold my breath / til i forget it's complicated by teatrolley (2015, E, 10k)

Fucks buddies gone wrong but make it soft so we get to watch as pining Draco patiently waits for Harry to get the memo. Sweet and intimate, with lots of late night talks and comfortable silence.

40. Tidings of Comfort series by @blamebrampton (2012, G, 10k)

Quietly cathartic and atmospheric, this fic is a poignant balm to the soul; such a beautiful tone, such lovely interactions! A must-read for those who enjoy church settings, honest talks and redeemed Draco. All-time fave.