#what do they want with Marcella

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Fifteen metres underground, the Inspector and Emerald find themselves in a pixie wonderland.

And the natives are none too pleased to see them!

[beckybarnes]

Workin on fleshing out the circus AU..

[holmsister]

The only important thing about the Kui interview (link in notes because tumblr) actually:

"KUI: Actually, there's no real-life model or reference for that dress. I just combined the clothes that Marcille's mother liked and also combined that with the hood, which was considered a little bit childish."

You know I spent an inordinate amount of time wondering why the hell the Winged Lion put Marcellina in that outfit. We don't see him do that for any other Dungeon Lord.

The reason HE gives is that it's an outfit that "makes you brave" but like that's clearly bullshit. The people around Marcella make fun of it and Kui later in this interview confirms that its not because it looks bad but because its something *she* would never pick herself. So why?

My best guess was an attempt at isolating her. If her friends see her so physically changed they might assume she is beyond saving.

But, going after what Kui says here, the actual reason is subtler and more insidious.

Its an attempt at undermining her and making her feel insecure.

The earmuff hood is associated with children in elven culture and there is NO WAY the demon does not know this. It's an infantilising decision. The lack of shoes is also something associated with children in general.

Picking a colour and shape that reminds Marcella of her mother is a way to remind her of her trauma. We see her mom wearing a somewhat similar black grieving dress when she gives Marcille the speech about going faster than everyone else, at her father's funeral.

Also, while we see Marcille wear black clothes postcanon, nothing she wears is ever as tight-fitting and revealing as that dress is. It's something out of her usual style.

The Lion wants to make it so that when Marcille glances in the mirror she sees a small child wearing her mother's ill-fitting clothes.

[sonarspace]

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

content: actor au. actor!nanami x actor!reader. movie scenes are indented. slight nsfw action. (not proofread) wc: 2.7k

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

Being a new actor in the industry can be challenging, especially when your co-star is well-known—a little too famous for your liking. Kento Nanami, an award-winning actor loved by his co-workers with a continuously growing fandom. You find it a little intimidating working with him, as he's been in the industry a lot longer than you have.

You weren't exactly unfamiliar with the world of cinema. Still, you were surprised to see how much work goes on behind the scenes and the effects of actors' consistency on the quality of scenes. You kind of underestimated the hard work and persistence it takes to memorize your lines and separate the character from yourself. But a good actor can always find something similar to the character they're playing, right?

You were surprised when you got a call from the casting directors after your audition—after all, you just wanted to try something new. What surprised you the most was being asked to play Kento Nanami's love interest. That was not the role you auditioned for, but they insist that you would be a good match for him onscreen, so you say yes. 

It's been three months on set—three months of playing Nanami's love interest, three months of longing for Nanami just as your character longs for him, three months of shy touches shared between you two—trying not to cross that line, and three months of him trying to comfort you through every intense scene. 

A knock sounds through the door, and one of the crew members' voices follows, "Rolling in five minutes." With a deep breath, you adjust the sleeves of your nightgown and make your way onto the set.

Nanami follows in attire that matches the Regency era: a ruffled dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up halfway. His waist is accentuated by the high-waisted pants. His hair was done in a way that looked messily put together, like he had been running his hand through his blonde locks. Before you can stop the thought, it manifests itself in your brain. The idea of running your hand through his hair. Soft and blonde. 

You're nervous as the director asks you to take your position. Before you do, though, Nanami steps in close to you. "If it gets too much at any point, just tap twice," he whispers. He always makes sure to make you feel comfortable filming intimate scenes—whether just holding his hand or making out on screen.

"And action!" the director's voice resounds throughout the set. 

"Cassian," you call out his name softly. He's standing by the window, hands on his hips. He sighs as he turns around. "Marcella," he replies stoically, his gaze unwavering. You move closer to where he's standing. You feel his hand inch closer to yours, wanting to touch you but holding himself back.  "Why are you here," his voice is deep and loud. "you're leaving tomorrow," you state. "I just wanted to wish you a safe trip," you pause, and then you continue, "I wish we met earlier," you smile sadly. He could've given you the life you've always wanted. A life full of simple pleasures — a simple love. He leans in closer. "Run away with me." Tears well your eyes, “I can't," your breath hitches, "I can't do that to him." "You can," he says, frustrated. Go away with me. I can protect you from him." He pleads, but you shake your head. A tear escapes the corner of your eye, and his finger comes up quickly to wipe it away. You hold his palm in place, letting yourself feel his comforting touch once more.

His touch was soft and delicate. The callouses on his palm were rough but he still held you with a softness of a lover. Your heart was beating fast, anxious for what was coming next. 

His lips were so close to yours. You could feel his breath on your lips. Your eyes flutter close as you feel him take in your upper lip in between his. His lips are feather-light atop yours. He pulls back to take in your expression – did you want this the same way he did? Your breathing grows erratic, and your eyes dart between his dilated irises and soft lips. He takes it as a yes when you lean in and your noses rub against each other, a gasp slips past your lips in anticipation – silently asking for more. He grabs your face with a need – a desperation. Trying to convince you to run away with him, the only way he could. The ruffles of his shirt are clutched between your fingers as he kisses you fully. Your lips so plush and smooth, he has a hard time holding himself back. He deepens the kiss and slides his tongue over your lip. A low hum elicits from his throat when you part your lips to let him in.

An involuntary action like your mind wasn't in control of your body. He plays along and slides his tongue over yours. You could taste the mint after the taste of gum. Suddenly, you're overtly aware of the number of people surrounding you. You try to concentrate on the way his tongue moves in tandem with yours, but you fail. Lost in the feeling of your tongue against his—alas, he barely registers the taps on his chest. He pulls back almost immediately.

"Cut! What happened?!" the director yells. You're about to apologize for the interruption, but Nanami cuts you off. "My bad, Milo. A fly was buzzing in my ear." You mouth back a silent thank you to him, and he just nods curtly.

"That was a good shot. Let's pick it up from the kiss," Milo tells you both. He looks at you and notices your eyebrows creased in discomfort. He turns back to the director and asks if you could take a break. Unwillingly, Milo yells, "Let's take ten," to the rest of the crew. 

You leave the room and sit on the ground, trying to calm yourself. "Here," Nanami hands you a bottle of water. You meek out a thank you, and he invites himself to sit next to you. "Are you okay?" he asks. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just not used to all that," you tell him. 

"Not used to kissing?" he queries. Your cheeks feel warm as he compliments, "You're a good kisser; you have nothing to worry about." You chuckle shyly, "Not that. I meant being intimate in front of so many people." 

"Oh, that. I understand that but just try and concentrate on me, okay? It's just this one scene, and then we can leave." he tries to comfort you. Little does he know his mere presence was enough to get you overwhelmed. The fact that you were kissing him in front of so many people got you overstimulated.

You redo the kissing scene but struggle to give your all into the scene the director wanted. You feel too stiff. "Cut! Redo!" The director calls out, and you sigh, lowering your head in slight embarrassment. Nanami walks over to Milo before you can take your position. You're not sure what he says, but you see them whispering, and Milo pats his back in understanding. 

"Everyone but the camera and lighting out!" Milo orders, and they all file out quickly. "Let's try again," Nanami tells you, a comforting smile on his lips. His hands cup your cheeks once more, pulling you in closer. His lips meet yours, and an unusual sensation builds in your stomach. 

His right hand moves to your neck, and his thumbs rub over your pulse, trying to comfort you.

He pulls you closer by your waist, your chest flush against his. His hands are firm on your waist and neck as he walks you back to the windowsill. He pushes you up on the ledge of the windowsill, and your legs wrap around him. He bunches up your nightgown and goes down on his knees, kissing up your legs. "Cassian," you whimper.

Your thighs tense as he plants feather-light kisses. The feel of your soft, ample thighs under his lips is something he didn't know he needed to feel until now. A carnal need is evident in both of you as you lock eyes with each other. His gaze pleads for something more, and you give him a short nod in understanding, urging him to go on.

He keeps his eyes on you, his gaze intense as he pokes his tongue out to lick and suck on the tender flesh of your thighs. You grow wetter when his mouth comes close to your clothed pussy. He licks a stripe from where he thinks your opening might be up to your clit. He groans as his eyes shut close in pleasure for the camera. You feel the noise deep in you. A sound gets stuck in your throat as your head lulls back, hitting the window, and your hand tangles in his hair - your grip on his hair tightening. 

"Cut!" And everybody walks back in, unaware of what just went down between you two. Nanami pulls away. He's never done that before and never had the urge to. He's unsure what it is about you, but you drive him insane. Every time he was in your presence, his breathing changed, his heart beat a bit faster. Perhaps it was the way you looked at him with so much conviction. 

Everybody holds their breath when you stumble in his arms as you get off the windowsill. The tension between you two is palpable. The director's voice brings you both out of the trance: "Good work, everybody. I'll be back on Wednesday, so have a good long weekend. But you two." 

The director gestures towards you and Nanami, motioning you both to come close. "Your chemistry is good, but I need it to be great. I want you both to get more comfortable with each other. Rehearse your lines together. Practice the scenes. Let's wrap the movie this month, alright?" 

Nanami shoots you a glance, "Alright, Milo. See you on Wednesday." You make your way back to your vanities. Nanami follows behind, and your heart picks up a beat. His phone rings, and he answers, "Hi, sweetie." You feel a pang of disappointment as he walks past you quickly into the room beside yours. Was he... Your heart drops at the thought.

You do a quick Google search 'for Kento Nanami dating.' Nothing but old articles about his only public relationship come up. They were long broken up now. So who was he talking to? Why did he do that with you? However, you can't stop wondering what else Nanami would have done if the director didn't yell cut. What else would he do if it was just the two of you? A knock brings you out of your thoughts. "Come in."

"Hi," Nanami walks in with his wet hair pushed back. He's changed into black pants and a grey hoodie, making him look more attractive. He looks kind of cute, you think to yourself. "What're you smilin' about?" he asks, noticing your smile. "What?" caught, you quickly wipe the smile off your face. "I asked, what're you smiling about?" he repeats himself. "Uh, nothing. I thought you left. Do you need something?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

"Can I take you to dinner?" The question catches you off guard. "What?" your eyebrows raise. "Can I take you to dinner?" he repeats, his voice a little louder this time. "I heard you fine. I'm not deaf," you snap. Annoyance takes over as you remember the little stunt he pulled earlier. Why did he do that if he had a girlfriend?

"Okay, so will you go to dinner with me?" he tries again. "No, I'm busy," you say, pushing past him to leave. 

He follows. "What about tomorrow?" 

"Still busy." You retort. 

"The day after?" 

"Busy."

"But we have to practice..."

"Well, Milo's not here to see us, is he? And you're the one who agreed, not me." You side-eye him as he stops.

"Did I do something?" he asks hesitantly. You stop walking as well and turn around. "Did you not want me to..." he trails off, unsure how to address that little incident between you two. He thought you both felt it—the attraction, the need to keep holding each other, the need to keep kissing, and the need to keep his face buried between your thighs. It wasn't something he'd felt before.

You let out a deep sigh and ask him blatantly, "Do you have a girlfriend?" 

Nanami's face scrunches up in confusion, "How is that related..."

"Yes or no, Nanami!" 

"No! And call me Kento!" he replies, visibly annoyed. It was rare for him to lose his temper like this. He couldn't understand why you were suddenly asking him all these questions. He thought he'd made it clear he was into you with the way you both interacted with each other.

"Are you seeing someone, then?" you ask further. You didn't want to get caught up in a scandal so fresh in your career. "No, I'm single," he confirms. "I wouldn't have... I wouldn't have done that if I was in a relationship." His face picks up a flush.

"Okay..." you respond, a feeling of relief coursing through you.

"Okay," he repeats, rolling his shoulders. The sun has long set as you both reach the parking lot. You pull out your phone to check how far your Uber ride was. The '40 minutes' flashing on your screen has you frowning and twisting your rings in discomfort. But Nanami notices, as he always does. "Come on, I'll drop you off," he offers. 

You shake your head. "No, it's alright. I'll wait in there," you point toward a dimly lit diner. "I don't want you to go out of your way," you give him a tight-lipped smile.

"I don't mind," he insists, walking away. He opens the car door for you, and cocks his head for you to get in. You take a deep breath and get in. "Relax, I'm not going to eat you." He chuckles lightheartedly, trying to get you to loosen up. 

"Here, put in your address," he hands you his phone. "Huh, you live close," he murmurs in quiet wonder once he sees your location. "Where do you live?" you ask curiously. "Across your building," he glances, a small smile on his lips, and you find yourself doing the same. "It's weird how we've never crossed paths with each other," he adds.

"It's not too weird, actually. I moved in two weeks ago. I haven't really had the time to explore the area. I've barely unpacked." You chuckle awkwardly. 

"I'd love to take you around sometime if you're up for it," he glances at you briefly. "Sure, thank you," you whisper quietly. 

He parks in front of your building. Quickly unbuckling his seatbelt, he runs over to open your door before you can. A small smile on his lips. You return his smile, and he walks you inside to the lobby. 

You stand there awkwardly, wondering if you should invite him over or not. The elevator dings, and you expect him to follow you in, but he doesn't. He stands outside and gives you a nod as the doors close, separating you two. You squeak a "Goodnight!" before the elevator takes you to your floor. 

He walks back to his car, feeling a little defeated. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he sees your name across his screen. The end of his lips tug into a small victorious grin as he reads your message.

⁞ You to Nanami: Sorry about my little tantrum. Thank you for the ride. Let's have lunch tomorrow?

Your heart races with anticipation as you press 'send' on the message. What if he doesn't want to do anything with you? What if you mistook his kindness for something more? All your doubts are erased as he replies back almost immediately.

↳ ⁞ Nanami to you: No worries. It was my pleasure.

⁞ Nanami to you: I thought you were busy tomorrow? 🤔.

↳ ⁞ You to Nanami: Well...

⁞ Nanami to You: I'll pick you up at 1?

↳ ⁞ You to Nanami: Alright :)

A giggle slips past your lips as you put your phone down and contemplate your reflection in the mirror. Your face is flushed, and your cheeks ache from smiling for so long. It's been a while since you've felt this way; it was almost unfamiliar. Meanwhile, Nanami feels a similar feeling in his chest as he crosses the street to his apartment complex, excited to see what tomorrow holds.

a/n : what do we think y'all? part 2? 👀. let me know your thoughts or any suggestions -> here! likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[thought--bubble]

Same as it was

Aegon II X (Prostitute Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 2432

Aegon Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Snake Banners by @arcielee

Caution Banner by @zaldritzosrose

Warnings:: dirty smut. There really isn't much plot lol. Oral (M & F Receiving) , Squirting kink, Overstim, cum play. Infidelity (technically).

A/N: This is my first attempt on Aegon and is based on some head cannons I have of him. I am totally open to any comments or suggestions about writing him.

"He's a damn usurper!" You whisper hushed to Marella.

Marella is your madame for lack of a better term.

"You're his favorite girl, and he has ordered you specifically. There is nothing I can do. " She grits her teeth and continues shuffling through dresses and holding them up against your body.

"I... I can't! When Queen Rhanyera inevitably comes to claim her throne, I'll be killed!" You bite at your fingernails, anxiety pumping through your body with such harshness you were afraid your knees would buckle.

"You place far too much importance upon yourself. You're a whore. They likely would just pass you off to someone else."

Your stomach turns at the thought. You don't mind working in the brothel. It feels safe. You have the madame and the other girls if something were to go wrong, but this, what Aegon is asking for, It's just too much.

"Why can't he just come here as he always has?" You plead with Marella desperate for her to understand your plight.

"Because he is a king at war. He can not just frolick into town and fuck a whore in his leisure time. He is being watched, and there is a bounty on his head!" Marella chooses a plain looking green dress that hugs your feminine curves. "Here put this on"

"NO! I'm not going!" You rip the dress from Marella's hands and toss it onto the bed. "If there is a bounty on his head and they come looking for that head while I am in his bed, what is to happen to me then?" You look at her expectantly with eyes wide. She couldn't possibly send you there knowing you will most likely be killed. Could she?

"You would most likely be killed. But if you do not do what he tells you to do, you could be killed right now." Marella picks the dress back up off the bed, shoving it harshly against your chest. "Die now or die later. That is your choice. King Aegon has made his choice, and that choice is to have you, up at the castle for him to call upon as he so pleases, I have grown to care for you over the years but not enough to cross the King! Now get dressed!"

You know she's right. Aegon wanted you badly enough that he sent two guards to escort you back to the keep. A place you knew you didn't belong. Queen Heleana is there. You have heard the stories of her generosity and kindness but how kind could she be to her husband's favorite whore?

Not to mention the ever so pious dowager queen, who no doubt would sooner set herself on fire then show any kindness to a whore who regularly services her married son.

"Why me?" You whimper to yourself as you drop the current brown dress you are wearing to swap it with the green one Marcella had chosen for you.

Marcella chuckles from behind you. "Never know with men. Sometimes they find that one thing they like and that's it. Whatever it is for Aegon, it seems you have it."

You roll your eyes and huff as you shake your head in disbelief. "Gods." You look up to the ceiling as soon as you have the dress on. Fighting back tears. He is going to get you killed, and you know exactly why, all because of that one thing you do in bed that he always claims is "so rare."

You straighten your back and shake out your limbs before you exit the room head held high, walking directly to the two men who had been sent to fetch you.

"Put this on." One of the men handed you a hooded cloak. You quickly put it on and lower your gaze. You were going to go with these men and hope that at some point in the future, there would be a chance for you to escape. One of the men grips your upper arm tightly as he leads you out of the brothel, and the three of you head up to the red keep. Each step bringing you closer and closer to your new life as the King's personal whore.

As soon as you breech the gate, the men move faster, and the man holding your arm pushes your head down further. Clearly, this was a mission that was to be completed without alerting other members of the royal family or council.

It is only once you are ushered into a chamber that you are finally allowed to lift your head. "Stay here." is all the man says before swiftly exiting the room.

That final bang of the heavy door slamming makes you flinch. "This is it, isn't it?" You hold your stomach feeling like the little bit of food you ate this morning might make a second appearance.

"I am going to be imprisoned in this room, as the King comes and goes as he wants." You push the hood back off of your head and look around the chamber.

It is the most beautiful room you have ever been in. Luxurious quilts are laying across the top of the large oak bed. A chaise placed strategically by the window a bookshelf to the left.

A small table and two chairs off to the side of the hearth and a wash basin in the corner of the room. If you had to make a choice in being locked up somewhere, this was probably one of the better options.

You take the cloak off and hang it over the back of one of the chairs and reach for the wine that was left on the table. You pour yourself a large cup and start to chug it, and as soon as you finish, move to pour yourself another as you hear the large door opening.

You close your eyes tight, you haven't seen him but you know it's him. That familiar chill crawls up your spine and the back of your neck, alerting you to his presence.

In truth, he is not a cruel man. As far as targaryens went, he was actually quite gentle. But he has a hunger that is incredibly hard to satiate. It's like he is empty and is desperate to fill the empty space with anything, sex, drink, food, anything he can get his hands on.

"How are you settling?" Aegon wastes no time at all quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist as he presses himself up against your back.

"Why am I here? You know you could always just send for me. " You feel him push your hair to one shoulder and start trailing soft kisses along your neck.

"Then I would have to await your arrival and hope you aren't busy with other customers." He gently nibbles up the side of your neck while sliding the flat palms of his hands up your stomach and over your breasts.

"This way, you're always right here when I need you." He presses himself tightly up against your ass. His hardness was evident through his trousers. "And I need you right now." He nips at the top of your shoulder, sending waves of pleasure through your entire being.

"And if someone asks who I am? Why I am here? In such nice chambers?" He chuckles into the crook of your neck.

"No one will ask. I'm the king I do as I like. " He whispers sensually into the shell of your ear as he pulls your dress down off your shoulders. "You know what it is I want"

You know exactly what he wants and how he wants it. That is why you are his favorite. You slide the dress the rest of the way down your form, stepping out of it.

You turn towards him a lustful gleam in your eye as you take his bottom lip between your teeth. "Of course I do your grace".

He takes your head between his hands and kisses you like you are air, and he has been suffocating. The neediness radiates off of him in waves.

You push him back and chuckle as you walk toward the bed. He might be a king and a feared man out there in the land of westeros, but in here, in this room, he is a desperate wanton fool and has no qualms with displaying it. He follows on your heels reaching his hands out trying to get hold of you once again.

You crawl onto the bed on all fours as he excitedly tears at his clothes, desperate to remove them as quickly as possible.

You stay positioned on your knees on the bed waiting for him. You have done this so many times, you know exactly how to start.

He jumps into the bed and lays down flat, pumping himself to hardness while he waits for you. "C'mon, C'mere," He whines as he reaches his hand out towards you.

You can't help but giggle at his desperation as you lift your thigh up over his head and bring your heat just above his face.

"Oh, thank you, beautiful." He says as you smother him with your cunt just the way he likes it. He dives in lapping at your soft inside while flicking your nub with his finger. His other hand pushing at your back urging you to get to work.

The feeling is overwhelmingly good, sending shocks of pleasure down your legs with tingling in your toes. You lean forward and take his cock into your mouth as he grunts loudly into your heat.

"Yessss, that is it" He growls and rubs his entire face into your cunt jamming his tongue inside your body with the finesse of an extremely practiced partner.

You moan onto his cock your drool dripping down the sides and pooling amongst the short silver hairs at its base. He moves his hips up jamming his cock further down your throat.

You make sure to take it as far as you can, fighting the urge to gag as the heat in your stomach builds up to an incredibly compact tightness.

You roll your hips dragging your cunt along his face feeling the smile he presses against your folds. He is in his favorite place burried in the cunt of his favorite whore. He harshly takes your hips in his hands pushing you down further onto his face. Lesser men would suffocate, but Aegon could breath you in all day and remain upright and alert.

He sucks and licks at your clit with precision knowing exactly how to make you topple over the edge and as soon as you do he brings his fingers to your clit and vigorously rubs in quick circles overstimulating the nerve to get exactly what he wants.

When your legs clench tight and you gasp with his cock hanging out of your mouth he knows he is about to be rewarded with his favorite treat. He opens his mouth wide as you gush over his face like a fountain, and he attempts to catch every drop.

He had accidentally found out that you were capable of such things one night down at the brothel and that is how you became his favorite whore. You always found it comical when the other girls would tell you of the borderline torturous overstimulation he would put them through just to test if they would do the same thing.

Aegon laughs with glee as he pushes you off of him. You assume the next position placing your cheek flush against the quilt of the bed, leaning your ass up in the air.

"See? Fully trained. Why wouldn't I bring you up here?" He chuckles giddily to himself as he grips your hips, placing you directly in front of him while he slowly slides himself into you. He loves to watch. He is a visual man this much you had learned. He spreads your cheeks apart so he can see clearly as his cock slides in and out, your wetness collecting at the base.

"I swear it gets better every time" He speeds up his movements gripping your cheeks harder as he continues to watch himself fuck into you with a look of utter satisfaction on his face. "This cunt. Somehow its perfect, does just what I want"

"Yes your grace" You feed into his need to be respected, you had learned that quite sometime ago, he wants to dominate, feel a sense of power and control that he just does not have in his every day life.

He ruts into you harder hitting that sweet spot with accuracy. He's been fucking you for years he knows your insides, probably better then you do at this point.

He brings one hand down around to your clit and rubs against it with moderate pressure.

"One more" He barks out with strained desperation. "C'mon"

As if Aegon's mere voice could command your body, you found yourself spiraling toward another release.

"Yes, your grace, as you wish!" You moan as he drills down into you gasping for air and rubbing your pearl furiously as once, again he makes you see stars, quickly changing the motion of his hand from a circle to a vigorous rub the overstimulation making your legs shake.

"Give me it, Give me it!" He commands, slamming into you with such force the posts of the bed shake. Everything around you slows down as the buzzing in your ears grows louder, and with one final screech, you give him what he wants and splash all over his hand and the quilt beneath you.

He then brings his wet hand up to your hip to hold you in place as he nearly impales you while chasing his peak, he reaches his end quickly with a snarl and as he does he pulls out and releases himself all over your backside spreading it over your cheeks and enjoying the shimmer of your skin covered in his spend as he rides out his high.

Aegon collapses down onto the bed with a laugh as you turn back to look at him.

"This is why you're here. War is stressful." He chuckles. "I won't have time to travel to that damned brothel as many times as I am going to need you."

"Need me?" You move up the bed careful to avoid the wet mess you had just left.

He gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "Yes, I need you, and once I catch my breath, I think I'll need you again"

To be added to taglist click here

[silverflameataraxia]

Arya never hates Sansa or any other traditionally feminine woman for being able to sing, dance, sew, and mind their courtesies. She hates herself for not being able to do those things. She thinks her family would love her more, or that Catelyn would have been more willing to ransom her, if she was more feminine and could do those things.

On the other hand, you have Sansa who wishes that Arya was a bastard and that she could have another - more feminine - sister.

Why couldn't Arya be sweet and delicate and kind, like Princess Marcella? She would have liked a sister like that.

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their Lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon's mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn't been some mistake. Perhaps the grumkins had stolen her real sister.

- Sansa I, AGoT

Sansa is ashamed of Arya for being a tomboy instead of being more feminine.

They don't know me, Arya realized. They don't even know I'm a girl. Small wonder; she was barefoot and dirty, her hair tangled from the long run through the castle, clad in a jerkin ripped by cat claws and brown rough-spun pants hacked off above her scabby knees. You don't wear skirts and silks when you're catching cats. Quickly she lowered her head and dropped to one knee. Maybe they wouldn't recognize her. If they did, she would never hear the end of it. Septa Mordane would be mortified, and Sansa would never speak to her again from the shame.

- Arya III, AGoT

Sansa attacks Arya for not being good at something traditionally feminine.

Sansa threw her head back in disdain. "You?" You couldn't sew a dress fit to clean the pigsties."

- Sansa III, AGoT

Sansa thinks that Arya was unsatisfactory as a sister because she wasn't feminine.

Sister. Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery; beautiful and gentle, with all the world's graces at her command. Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went.

- Sansa II, ASoS

Now where does Sansa get her sexism from? Catelyn (and Septa Mordane).

Arya wonders if her family would even want to ransom her because she's not traditionally feminine.

"What if my brother doesn't want to ransom me?"

"Why would you think that?" asked Lord Beric.

"Well," Arya said, "my hair's messy and my nails are dirty and my feet are all hard." Robb wouldn't care about that, probably, but her mother would. Lady Catelyn always wanted her to be like Sansa, to sing and dance and sew and mind her courtesies.

- Arya VII, ASoS

Catelyn telling Arya she could be pretty...if only she were more feminine.

Her mother used to say she could be pretty if she would just wash and brush her hair and take more care with her dress, the way her sister did. To her sister and sister's friends and all the rest, she had just been Arya Horseface. 

- The Blind Girl, ADwD

[embrosegraves]

𝕃𝕒 𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕒 𝔸𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕠

(request) Fernando Alonso x Fem!Wife!Reader Family Picnic <3333

Warnings: I did have to consult Google Translate for some of the Spanish

2k words

It was a good day. The sun was out, the temperature wasn’t too hot and the breeze was nice and cool. It would’ve been a crime if you didn’t take advantage of the beautiful weather. 

You shook your husband beside you. He grumbled half awake, turned over and tried to go to sleep again. You rolled your eyes at him. No matter what Fernando said to the contrary, he was getting old and as much as he didn’t like it, it definitely showed. You knew there was only one other way to make sure that Fernando was awake and out of the bed. 

“If you don’t get up right this second, I’m not going to let you touch me until the next F1 season.” You grunted while using as much of your strength as you could to push him off the bed. He landed on the ground with a loud THUD. 

“Hijo de puta!” He exclaimed as he hit the floor. [Motherfucker!]

“Oye! Watch your mouth, your kids are in the next room!” If it wasn’t funny, you might’ve sounded more angry at his foul language. [Hey!] 

 “What did I do to deserve this?” Fernando peeked his head over the side of the bed, taking his sweet time getting up. 

“If you had listened the first time I told you to get up, we wouldn’t be having this discussion, would we?” You asked, getting out of the bed and walking towards the ensuite. “Now stop whining, I need to get the kids up and ready. I have plans for today.” 

“You’ve been spending too much time around my mother.” Fernando finally stood up, and went to grab a shirt from the closet. “You’re becoming just like her.” 

“Good!” You shouted through the closed bathroom door. “Ana is an amazing woman!” 

Fernando could only shake his head in amusement, as he made his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway leading him to his children’s rooms. He first went to the opposite end of the hallway, knowing it would be easier to wake up his oldest children first. He knocked on the furthest door and waited.

“Yeah?” Fernando could hear that his eldest daughter, Marcella, had only just woken up. 

“Mamá has plans for today. Get dressed to go outside por favor.” 

“Bueno! I’ll be out in a bit.” 

Satisfied that Marcella was now awake and getting dressed, Fernando made his way to the next room. Knocking on the door, he wasn’t expecting for it to open. But apparently his son had other ideas. 

“Sí Papá?” Fernando Jr was his father’s carbon copy. A fact that Fernando just loved mentioning whenever he could. So you could avoid the confusion when talking to them both, you had started calling your son Junior. 

Fernando smiled and ruffled his son’s hair. “Your Mamá has something planned, so get dressed to go out.” 

“Oye! I just brushed my hair!” 

“You sound like your mother.” Fernando said as he walked off and towards the last door. 

“Good! Mamá is amazing!” 

Chuckling, Fernando gently opened the door that led to the nursery. He flicked the light on and stood in the doorway, just watching his twins’ little chests rise and fall as they slept. He almost didn’t want to wake them at all, but he knew that they would have the best time with whatever it was you had planned. Walking quietly he moved further into the nursery. Softly caressing their faces, Fernando woke them up as gently as he could. 

“Hola Pequeños. Buenos Días.” He made sure to keep his voice quiet when he saw their eyes open. [Hey Little Ones. Good morning.]

“Hola Papá.” said his youngest daughter, Magdalena. Her little voice was still riddled with sleep. She was lethargic as she crawled into her father’s arms, wrapping her tiny ones around Fernando’s neck as he rubbed her back. 

“¿Dormiste bien, Princesa?” she nodded her little head, too tired to speak. [Did you sleep well, Princess?]

By now Magdalena’s twin, Pedro, had sat up and was rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists. He yawned and also made his way onto his father’s lap. 

“¿Dónde está Mamá?” he asked. [Where is Mummy?”

“¿Deberíamos ir a buscarla?” Fernando received two little nods so he wrapped an arm securely around each of the twins and slowly walked out of their room. [Should we go look for her?]

Fernando walked towards the kitchen where he could hear you making breakfast. He could see Marcella and Junior going to sit down at the kitchen island, talking to each other about what teams they thought were going to do well during the Formula 1 season. 

Once everyone was done with eating breakfast, Marcella and Junior grabbed Pedro and Magdalena from their high chairs and went to help them change into some appropriate clothes for the day. Nando started cleaning up the breakfast dishes while you had gotten started on making some sandwiches. 

“What’s on the agenda today, Mi Amor?” Fernando asked, placing the last clean dish on the drying rack. 

“I was checking the weather for today before you got out of bed, and I’ve decided that we’re going to have a family picnic.” You replied, packing the sandwiches into ziploc bags and setting them aside. “I was thinking, we go to your parent’s house and ask if they’d like to join us.” 

Fernando came up beside you and started to help prepare little snacks for your children. “You know if we go there and ask, my mother will insist we have it on their property?” 

“Oh you think this plan is spontaneous?” The look on your face almost made Fernando nervous.

“It’s not?” 

You laughed and bumped him with your hip. “Amor, Ana and I have been planning this outing for weeks. You and your father are the only ones who didn’t know. No doubt Ana has told José by now, just like I am telling you now.” 

Moving to the fridge to grab some fruit that needed to be cut, you kept talking to him about the plan you had concocted with Ana. 

“Your mother had called me the other week saying how she misses you because you’re always travelling with Formula One, so I told her you were home this weekend. We started planning pretty quickly after that. Originally the plan was for Lorena and her children to join us as well, but something came up so Lorena is out being a successful and wonderful mother. We were always going to go to your parents- wash and cut the strawberries please- because they have the most space for Junior and the twins to run around. 

“And of course, Marcella will want somewhere with shade and that big awning over the pool and garden is just perfect for her. And your mother pointed out that at some point the twins will get tired so going to your parents’ means that the twins can sleep in the guest room there so we don’t have to leave and go home early.”

“Women scare me sometimes.” Fernando handed you the strawberries and you put them into a tupperware container before putting them in the basket you had found to put all the food in. 

“Good. It’s a healthy fear to have.” You said before yelling out to the kids that it was time to go. 

Junior ran down the stairs holding Pedro while Marcella followed behind him with Magdalena at a much slower pace.

“Junior, don't run with your brother, you could drop him.” 

“Lo siento Mamá.” Junior said sheepishly. [Sorry Mum.]

You opened your mouth to speak again but before you could, your phone started ringing in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw it was Ana calling you. With a smile on your face you quickly answered the call. 

“Hola Ana! … Claro si-” You had begun walking to your office while you spoke with your mother in law. Fernando grabbed Pedro from Junior and had started ushering the children out to the car. [Hello Ana! … Of course yes-]

Marcella had become a professional at getting the twins in the car when you weren’t around, and Fernando was forever confused at how she had managed to get them to listen. Fernando had even asked her one day how she managed it but all she did was give him a wink and continued to do her schoolwork. 

Just as Fernando closed Marcella’s car door, you walked out of the house, phone and picnic basket in hand. When you got closer to the car, Fernando grabbed the picnic basket and put it in the boot of the car. Walking back, he opened and closed the passenger door for you before getting into the driver’s seat. 

The drive to Fernando’s parents wasn’t an extremely long journey. The 30 minute drive was spent listening to your young children blabber on about the scenery or about the kids at school. 

The only one of your children who wasn’t talking often was Marcella. The 16-year-old was texting on her phone with a smile on her face. Fernando had looked in the rearview mirror at her. 

“Who are you texting Cariño?” 

Marcella’s smile dissipated. “No one.” 

“Are you sure? You were smiling pretty big.” 

“It was no one Papá.” 

“I just want-” You smacked Fernando’s shoulder. You had spoken about how to approach this kind of situation years ago, when you had been pregnant with Marcella. Fernando went to start complaining but you interrupted him. 

“No, you will stop talking. If Marcella is texting someone, it is not our business.” You turned as much as you could in your seat to look at your daughter. “However, I do have two questions about them. One, how old are they? And two, do they make you happy?” 

Your daughter smiled at you, “They’re only a month older than me and they make me very happy.” 

“Then that’s all I care about.” 

Eventually you arrived at your In-Law’s. Everyone got out of the car and your children ran to the front door where their grandparents were waiting with arms open, ready for hugs. 

You greeted your father-in-law with a hug and a kiss to both his cheeks. You laughed when he made a joke about putting Fernando to work, getting the things from the car. 

“Of course! He’s been annoying lately so he’s got to make up for it.” 

You gave José one more hug before greeting Ana and walking inside with her. You heard Jose say something to Fernando that made you giggle.

“You know, ‘Happy Wife, Happy Life’ isn’t just a saying, right?” 

By the time the men had made it to the backyard, you and Ana had laid out the big picnic blanket and started making the drinks for the adults to enjoy. Fernando would have one drink at the beginning before sticking to water for the remainder of the day as he would be driving home. Ana had taken the basket from Fernando and began to set out the food you had prepared. You had finished the drinks and handed them out, rolling your eyes when you heard Fernando talking to his father about what happened in the car earlier with Marcella. 

“Fernando, I swear if I hear you talking about this again, you’re sleeping on the couch.” 

“I just wanted to make sure she was being careful! That’s my little girl.” He said, thanking you for the drink before turning to his dad. “What would you have done, Papá?” 

“Don’t involve me. I had no issues with Lorena.” 

“Mi Amor, do you remember when we were teenagers and I spent two weeks living with you and your family?” 

“Of course I remember. Two of the best weeks of my life.” He smirked and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Yeah well, I spent those two weeks not speaking to my father because he kept asking me about my ‘secret boyfriend’. He never stopped asking about you so I stopped talking to him for two weeks. And I’m stubborn so if my mamá hadn’t knocked some sense into him, I would have never spoken to him again. Do you really want that with Marcella?” 

Fernando looked a little heartbroken and ashamed of how he had treated the situation. He had known that something had happened between you and your father but he didn’t realise it was like that. 

“I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if she stopped talking to me.” 

“So don’t push her. She will come to us when she’s ready.” You said, squeezing him in comfort. “Now let’s put this out of our minds and enjoy a picnic with our children. Vamos.”

This took me so long 😭😭😭 I wanted to make sure I was 100% happy with it

This definitely would've been so much bigger but I didn't want to make everyone wait even longer.

As always, likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

(also do you guys think it would be a good idea for me to set up a paypal or a kofi for my fics? I've been thinking about it a lot recently but idk)

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Sandor Clegane x reader

Chapter 4

1 - 2 -3 -4

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for chapter, cussing, 18+ language and themes, insults, fighting, gossiping, alcohol consumption.

Standing next to the hound you watch as Marcella cries as she's rowed out to seat the larger journey ship. Tommen cries as his sister leaves his sight past the rocks. Joffrey rolls his eyes at all the attention she's getting.

Your ladies stand a distance away from the hound and yourself not wanting to be near him. He looks down to you briefly before Joffrey gets bored and walks up the stairs calling him along with him. 

“Come, dog!” he spits out hound follows him with an eye roll. 

“My lady you've been invited to a tea party in the garden with a few of the fellow court ladies' ' your lady in waiting says about to lead you out. 

“Can it wait.” you ask, looking at a cersi whose tears fall silently. She doesn't answer when she sees Sansa follow after her ladies. Your eyes avert to the water again, the light splashes of the water against the rocks before you watch cersei exit the ceremony following shortly after her. 

—-----

Your ladies continue to follow you as you walk through the garden. You huff and stop turning around to them. 

“Will you please possibly go do something else besides follow me like abandoned dogs on the street! I don't need to be followed everywhere I go” you snap at them. They curtsy and scurry off. You sigh, shaking your head. You turn back again seeing the other ladies and Sansa sitting under the gazebo giggling and drinking tea. 

“y/n how lovely for you to join us. We've saved you a seat as well as a cross stitch fold.” lady tyrell says as a guard pulls out the spare chair for you and you take a seat in between lady nighall, and lady cricket. You nod at her smile and a servant pours a cup of tea for you. You take the cross stitch in hand and work on it to occupy the time before the ladies barrel you with questions.

“You wed the hound, sandor clegane yesterday, how exciting.” lady ebsings speak. She's a skinny woman with dark black hair that she keeps in a high ponytail. Her dresses are always too elaborate to function yet she finds a way somehow. She married a man who's rich because he's the top ship seller. 

“Yes I did.” you reply. 

“And what I mean can't be much of a fun experience between a king's guard and a legitimate princess.” lady cricket, a larger woman with brown hair she keeps half up and half down always with a decorative hair pin holding it back. She wears green dresses even though it clashes with her skin tone. 

“It's…new. Being married isn't something I would have thought about for a while but the king thought we’d be a good match so we were wed.” you answer. Lady Tyrell gives you a small smile and nod knowing it was fully forced although liking the way you answered the question. 

“Oh come now spare us the sugar and get to the gritty, the consummation…he’s big?” Lady Nighall retorts, a woman of particular size but on the older side around her mid 40s who doesn't get much action as her husband is flaccid all the time so she indulges herself in self pleasure and pleasure houses as she is the country side's top broker for silver coin. You don't answer her question however. 

“you , did, consummate correct.” She digs for answers.

Once again the uneasy feeling erupts from your stomach as all anyone ever wants to talk about is if you and sandor have bedded. Opening your mouth to tell the truth you're sick of people asking so you lie. 

“Yes…he's very adequate.” you say into your teacup trying to fake a description of the act of sex. You sip on your tea before placing the cup back onto the tray. They all accept Sansa and Lady Tyrell, giggle and quickly speak about their husbands in bed for a short period of time. 

Your eyes attached downwards at the table of various sweets and tea. Lady ebsing speaks once again. 

“A-and how…was he.” she smiles at you. 

“Adequate.” you answer once again. 

“Oh come now you're a deflowered princess with a large husband. I was so sure he might split you in two or least break your neck while holding onto you.” she says as they continue to go back to gossip. 

“The hound is a big ugly brute. I'm surprised. After all, if he were to get married he doesn't deserve a small thing like yourself. No wonder all the maidens fear him. His best quality I guess would be being able to kill a man.” lady nighall says. I look up seeing him standing behind her. 

“Sandor.” you say. 

“I know his name, my dear. I just chose not to use a name. Did you know his mother wouldn't even look at him? Mhm heard that from the grape vein.” she says, sipping her tea. 

“My apologies for disturbing your chatter.” Sandor says through gritted teeth as he had to listen to everything that bitch said about him. His deep gruff voice hitting the ears like a clash of steel. 

“OH!” Lady nighall squeals, dropping her tea cup, spilling the tea on her dress. 

“Damn! Sneaking up on a woman is never a good quality” she exclaims 

“Apologize” he says knowing he's not really sorry. 

“Are you alright sandor?” you ask him. He nods before turning to Sansa who is still scared to look at him. 

“The king requests your presence my lady” he says as she nods and stands. 

“Thank you for having me, it was lovely.” she says and stands before walking off a guard that was standing post walks behind her. 

“Lady nighall maybe instead of indulging yourself in the insulting of other maybe you can focus more on the coin you spend daily to indulge yourself in lord baelish's pleasure house, or more rather hoe he indulges himself in you.'' Sandor retorts. Lady nighalls mouth opens in a gasp. 

“And close that yapper its using up more words than the kingdom” he says which makes her shut her mouth. And the other ladies snorted a giggle at his comment. Nighall looks at you square anger on her face as the hound begins to walk away. 

“I apologize for him.” you say getting up, gathering your skirt and running after your husband.

“Sandor!” You yell gathering your dress chasing after him. 

“Sandor, I'm talking to you!” You yell out to him.

He grumbles, continuing walking away. You stop, stamping your foot against the ground and shout at him.

“SANDOR CLEGANE! YOU STOP THIS INSTANT” You shout. He stops and turns to you before walking back to you. 

“Go back to picking flowers and sewing with the other ladies. I bet there will be more gossip about fox and hound eh!” He barks at you.

“You made me look rude, you should go and apologize to her.” you say 

He scoffs 

“Apologize? APOLOGIZE? My whole damn life I've been apologizing to highborns like yourself not as if any of you are worth it so speaking my mind once in a while..yeah I'll do that especially to over entitled cunts who drown themselves at pleasure houses.” he barks out. 

“Why are you always so hateful!” You snap back at him. 

“You’ll be glad of the hateful things I say someday! When I’m the only thing in your way of a good life and a bad one.” he says.

“I’ve got 3 bad things in my life and if you think you're one of them you’re wrong! I didn’t choose to marry you, but Fuck I’ll make the most of it!” You yell at him. Looking him dead in the eyes. Never in his life has he had someone yell at him and look at him square. His look softens ever so slightly. 

“Go finish your tea party. Eat your cakes and don't spill on your shiny gown and dont fucking call me that.” He spits out before turning away from you walking off. 

“GAH! I hate you!” You huff and turn walking away. Back to the other women. 

You ignore the hound for the rest of the day purposefully feeling your distance when Joffrey and Jaime knight the new king's guard, when you see him following the other guard to look the opposite direction pretending not to notice him. You don't know how much good he will care about it, you're damn sure getting a reaction out of it. 

Night falls and for the second time sandor does not join the room, the mester came to watch the consummation but you had him sent away wanting no one in the room and nothing. Sitting in the bath the water filled in oils and scents making the room smell nice as well. You sigh dipping into the hot water dunking your head under the water. The quiet of nothing for a few seconds before you come back to the surface. 

Moving your wet hair out of your face. You sit to the side and rest your head on your arm and you and your other out of the bathtub letting the water dripping off your finger tips onto the stone flooring. 

The memories of a happier time flood your mouth, your brother and you walking and laughing in the gardens. Him teaching you to ride a horse. Your family in your home's castle. All things you'll never get back. Confined to hatred and stone walls of kings landing. 

—------

The next day you continue to ignore the hound. Although has busy supervising the training of the new guards you pass by the courtyard you can feel his eyes on you. 

“Marriage troubles already?” meryyn says to him as sandor huffs at you. 

“Shut the fuck up trant.” he grumbles. 

“What's wrong clegane aren't performing well.” merryn laughs sandor walks towards merryn and grabs his collar. 

“You dont fucking shut up ill turn your insides to out side do you understand!” he tells me. Before dropping him into the mud. The other men stop to watch merryn trant get told by the larger man. Merryn gets up and draws his sword to sandor. 

“Oh what? You're going to pull out your little sword on me?” Sandor is annoyed with his temper tantrum. 

“Go on then swing it. Show everyone what a big strong man you are!” hound yells at trant. Who then swings his sword missing sandor everyone laughs as merryn only prompting him to swing again missing sandor for a second time.

“Fuck sake.” Sandor rolls his eyes at him, grabbing his sword out of Trant's hands, throwing it to the side and landing a punch on his face. Everyone oohs at the site of merryn getting his ass kicked. He gets up and charges at Sandor with a yell barreling into him pushing him back, tackling him. 

“You fuckign fat ugly cunt!” Sandor yells at him and pushes him over, holding his face into the mud. Jamie walks over with his arms crossed as he chuckles at Merryns struggle. 

“Don't pick a fight you can't win.” Jamie says as Sandor gets up, spitting out the mud that got into his mouth and wiping it off his face. 

“Dumb cunt.” Sandor says before spitting out more mud. 

—-----

You stand in the throne room staring at the iron throne alone, your handmaidens out of your sight finally. Nothing but peace and quiet as you stare at the throne. 

“Beautiful isn't it.” you hear a voice turning to see lord baelish. 

“My lord.” you say nodding your head. 

“Princess.” he answers, taking his place right next to you. 

“It was forged after all the battles against the Targaryens were done. People say that the throne room used to be covered in swords from all the battles, they would melt the swords right down onto the stairs” he says holding his hand out. 

“Where are they now? The other swords?” you ask in wonder.

“Removed when the chair had a new sitter. Children running around. They say servers would trip and impale themselves so often they had to train staff to a speciality. Out of all the brutality the targaryens ensued…they cared for the weary.” he says you continue to look at the throne. 

“You are lady clegane now, yes?” he says

“You were at the wedding banquet, surely you must know.” you say reluctantly. 

“You don't sound pleased.” he says

“I…it's just for the past few days that's all anyone speaks of my being lady clegane the princess away from home…i just…” you trail off. 

“Just what my lady?” he asks. 

You're about to open your mouth to speak again but the door opens and you both turn around seeing sandor half covered in mud. 

“Speak of the demon himself, what brings you? Here to collect for my lady wife?” Baelish says. 

“Fuck off you grey haired squirrel” sandor grunts as he walks twords your way. 

“Why are you muddy? Are you alright?” You ask. 

“Becuase merryn fuckign trant dosnt know when you keep his greasy fucking tits out of the way. Picked a fight while over seeing guarding fucking cock sucker. He says passing you both.

“Don't keep us waiting to tell if you win?” Baelish asks. 

“Fuck…off.” he huffs walking down through the hall to the council room. Also reminding lord baelish why he was walking through the throne room. 

“I beg pardon my lady, I wish you a good night.” he says bowing before following after sandor.

Chapter 5 here

[pagesoflauren]

Calamitous Love Chronicles: Delicate Beginning Rush (2/4)

ex veteran!Steve Rogers x reader

Premise: Steve Rogers blows into town in search of some estranged family. As he settles into civilian life, he realizes leaving work is hard and perhaps the world will never stop needing him.

Warnings: depictions of PTSD, mentions of abandonment by a romantic partner, complex familial dynamics, sexual content.

Thank you to @hyperfixationhovel. And if you're still around, thank you for being here as I find myself again.

Main Masterlist

After dinner, Ari and his wife helped set up Ari’s old bedroom to be Steve’s for the duration of his stay.

“You’re welcome as long as you need to stay,” Ari reassured. “Absolutely no rush for you to get back on your feet. Sounds like you’ve been through hell.”

While they all tried to get to know him, they understood that there were some things that weren't yet ready to be spoken about. Nobody pushed him, and Steve shared what he was able to. 

Settling under the covers with a sigh, Steve rolls his shoulders back to relax his muscles. He places his palms on top of the flannel sheet, the fibers sticking to the clammy skin. With a swipe of his hand, he tries to get rid of the moisture, but it just causes more to come to the surface. 

Steve decides to clench his fists instead but reminds himself to keep his face relaxed to try and go to sleep. 

The visions behind his eyelids are relentless; as one washes away, another comes to replace it. Resigned, he opens his eyes and looks out the window.

The moon is full, surrounded by gray wispy clouds gliding across the sky, carried by a silent wind. Sighing again, Steve shifts around to make himself comfortable. Cheek pressed against the pillow, he realizes the nightmares started when he began his journey back home. 

On missions, sleep was precious and time was a commodity. To any normal person, sleep is a time of respite from day-to-day life, filled with fantastically pleasant images or even nothingness as the body recovers from the exhausting burden of living. To Steve and his team, it was a short burst of rest, a hard reset before getting right back to business.

Always on the move, there was never any time for demons or terrible memories to catch up to him. But now, with all the time in the world, he’s a sitting duck and those dark thoughts are poised, ready for the kill. 

Steve watches as the moon moves across the sky like a screensaver, keeping everything that haunts him at bay. As the sky turns a shade lighter, he gets up and rifles through his clothes, scattered between his bags and dresser. 

Dressing in some joggers, a pullover, and grabbing his running shoes, Steve quietly makes his way through the living room and out the front door. After he nudges his feet into the shoes, he takes off, running down the beaten path through the woods. 

- - -

“There you are!” Marcella greets Steve as enters the cabin. “How many eggs do you want?”

He’s met with the rich smells of American breakfast foods and gurgling of the coffee maker. With a blink, he smiles. 

It sounds and smells like home.

“I’ll take four, over medium, please.”

“Coming right up!” 

“Were you able to sleep at all?” Ari asks, looking pointedly at him as he loads bread into the toaster.

“Ah,” Steve exhales awkwardly, trying to find the right words. “Not quite. But not because I was uncomfortable.” 

“Understandable,” Bunny says, looking up from the stove. “New place, it’s an adjustment. But it looks like you were able to get some exercise in.” 

“Yeah, I was.”

“The forest path is great for that! There are a few here, you’ll never get bored. Oh, pancakes, by the way?”

“They’re chocolate chip today,” Marcella adds.

“Oh, yes, please. I’ll have two.” 

“Oh, hear that, Ari?” Marcella turns to her son, “Looks like you could learn about balanced meals from Steve.”

Steve snorts as Ari’s eyes narrow at his mother.

“Bunny, I’ll have four pancakes, please,” he says pointedly. 

“Yes, dear,” she laughs.

“Help yourself to some coffee, if you’d like. Sugar’s next to the machine and milk’s still in the fridge.” 

Steve takes up the offer, grabbing one of the mugs lined up on the counter. There are four, and he smiles to himself again. 

“Um,” he begins. “Thank you, for bringing out a mug for me.” 

Everyone exchanges pleasantly surprised looks at each other before looking back at Steve. Ari pipes up, “How could we not? You’re family.” 

They return to their respective tasks: Ari wraps up the bread and places it back in the basket; Bunny flips a pancake onto a serving platter and pours more batter into the pan; and Marcella turns over one of the eggs she’s making for Steve. 

With both parents passed on and his team somewhere out in the world doing who-knows-what, Steve entered Barber feeling isolated from everyone. 

But here, in this kitchen, with a seat at the table, a plate of pancakes and eggs coming his way, and a mug for coffee, there’s a sense of safety. Not quite in the way that someone is watching his six or looking from a vantage point, but in the simplicity of being thought of and cared for. 

- - - - -

“You need fresh air.”

Steve hums in confusion as he turns to Marcella.

“Did my Albie some good when he would have nightmares.”

“How did you–”

“I’ve seen that look before; it’s the same as his when he couldn’t sleep well the previous night.” 

A sense of bewilderment falls over Steve as he realizes she’s not even looking at him, rather maintaining her focus on her current knitting project. 

“I–”

“There’s a park not too far that we would go to and sit on the bench under the willow tree. It’s nice to be under the shade. I’ll tell them where you went, just be back by dinner or else we’ll launch a search party.” 

Knowing an indirect command when he hears one, Steve finds himself getting up and grabbing a jacket before heading out.

“Bring a hat and wear sunscreen!” 

- - - - -

Baseball cap tucked tight onto his head, Steve’s knee bounces sitting underneath the swaying fronds of an old willow tree. 

He’s not a fool, he can see how this would be serene and calming, but the tension in his muscles don’t seem to release. The fresh air is invigorating and a wonderful contrast to stale atmospheres in hideouts and home bases used solely for shelter. 

As he concentrates harder on relaxing, he’s interrupted.

“Hi, Steve.”

Turning to the source of the voice, he finds you standing in a sundress and wide-brim hat, picnic basket tucked into your elbow. 

He greets you in return. “Having a picnic?”

“Yeah, couldn’t let the sunshine go to waste. How are you enjoying your day?”

“It’s here and there.” 

“I understand,” you nod. “Well, if you don’t have plans, I was going to set up not too far from here. I have plenty of food and snacks; I was just going to relax for the rest of the afternoon. You’re welcome to join me, or not, if you’d rather stay here.”

His response is almost a knee-jerk reaction, agreeing to join you. He’s not quite sure where that comes from but you don’t seem to pay attention to it. Instead, you bid him to follow you to a sunny patch of grass. Setting the basket down, you take out a blanket and begin to unfold it. 

As the blanket begins to grow larger, Steve realizes how useless he’s being and grabs the other end, helping you open it up and keep it flat on the grass. It’s not too large, but it’s enough for two people to comfortably sit without invading each other’s space.

He watches as you kneel and bring the basket onto the blanket, beginning to take out a container of bright red strawberries and sliced kiwis. When you look up at him after taking out a covered platter, he feels his body tighten in social anxiety.

“Would you like to sit?” you offer, seeming to repeat your invitation from earlier. 

“Oh, yeah,” he stammers, crouching down and trying to get into a comfortable position. He wriggles around for a moment and hears a snort from you as he settles on sitting on his bottom with his legs extended, hands positioned back to support his upper half. “What?”

“Nothing,” you smile, “When was the last time you went on a picnic?”

“I have to think about that one.”

And he does. It’s not an automatic memory retrieval, not like remembering Bucky’s blindside or how to navigate a smoke screen. He ventures deep into the annals of his brain, almost like an archive room with thousands of dusty files and the smell of old paper. 

Childhood memories are like faded pictures; he can see the indistinct figures of Bucky as a child, running with other boys whose faces he can’t remember. He thinks he laughed in that moment, but he doesn’t know what they were playing. He can see the picnic tables and detect the faint aroma of coals on a grill. There’s brightly colored candy on the brown and green grass, girls screaming as a boy chases them with a lizard. 

“I don’t know how old I was,” Steve shrugs. “Maybe seven or eight. I think it was for a birthday party. But it wasn’t like this, there were picnic tables, like something you’d reserve at a park.” 

“Ah,” you nod. “I really like coming here on a sunny day, there’s lots of space for a nice little picnic to have a snack outside, maybe read a book.” 

Humming in agreement, Steve doesn’t know what to say. It’s been ages since he had a conversation about anything other than work. Whenever an interaction extends beyond the weather and one’s state of being, he’s lost. 

A happy jingle begins to come into earshot and a few kids nearby scream in delight, making you giggle as Steve startles at the sounds. Aggressively pushing down his response to rush to the rescue, he realizes most of the park goers attention has been captured by an ice cream truck. Parents hold their children back from running headlong into the parking lot to be the first in line, waiting as the brightly colored vehicle finds a spot and parks. 

Once settled, the large window on the side opens up and a deep voice bellows, “Ice cream!” Kids surge forward, racing to get into line before each other. The man in the truck begins to direct them, making sure everyone is being fair and nice to each other. Once the line is orderly, he begins to take orders. 

“Would you like something?”

“Usually I wait until the line shortens,” you reply.

“But then all the good stuff might be gone by then,” he argues. 

You huff in a laugh, “Good point. I’ll have a scoop of cookie dough in a cone, please.” 

Watching him get up and jog over to the line, you laugh at the comic image of him taking a spot behind a boy who can’t be much older than five. He sticks out among the other patrons, the only adult as the kids ahead of him crane their heads to look at the man in the truck and get on their toes to reach for their cones and cups. 

You grab a strawberry and bite into it, unable to stop yourself from thinking how he seems to try so hard at being just a normal person despite looking anything but. He showed up in Barber out of nowhere, which isn’t unusual, but someone of his stature and gait when he moves sticks out. 

Barber has always been a quieter place to live, nobody has any particular rush. You’re used to the occasional person or group stopping in on their way to somewhere else, but even they don’t have the same rigidity Steve has. Slow life in a slow town means leisure walks and headaches for city dwellers; you could imagine a New Yorker hating the sidewalks here filled with slow pedestrians. 

You don’t know much about him, only recalling he referred to himself as a “veteran.” With no visible malady, you can imagine the more invisible troubles that plague someone like him, who has likely seen things you can’t even begin to imagine. 

To go from that to Barber is an adjustment that would possibly take years to complete. As you put together a bite with a cracker, piece of cheese and some honey, you watch as he steps up to the window, laughing at a joke from the ice cream vendor. 

You chew as he pays and takes a cup and a cone, nodding in thanks to the man in the truck before heading back to you. As he returns, you finish chewing and dust off your hands before reaching out to take your cone from him.

“Thank you,” you smile. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” he replies, waving her off. “Thank you for inviting me to join you, you didn’t need to.” 

As the afternoon continues, the two of you spend time talking the time away. The sun moves across the sky without either of your attention on it, until it begins to descend behind the treeline. 

“I’m so sorry,” you start, feeling bashful, “I didn’t mean to take up your entire afternoon.” 

Steve smiles, mostly to himself, “Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing else I had planned for today.” And I can’t remember the last time I felt this way.

He leaves out the latter part of his thoughts, feeling his body physically reacting to the pounding of his memories from before his career as they scream to escape from their prison. His heart aches as it opens up, the muscle forming shapes it hasn’t in a long time. It makes his breath catch in his throat, ignites the tips of his fingertips. 

Your hand covers his, a gesture that douses the heat on his skin. He knows it’s meant to be friendly, but his brain screams to turn his hand over and grasp yours. He wonders how your fingers would feel between his, wants to know the warmth of your palm against his own. 

“Are you okay?” you check, ducking your head slightly to look into his eyes. There’s some concern in your expression and he does his best to brush off any trail of a wandering mind. 

“Yeah,” Steve clears his throat. “Can I walk you home?”

- - -

The breeze wisps around, lifting your hair and lapping at your skin. It’s a nice cool down after being in the sun. One by one, the street lamps turn on, bathing the streets in a soft yellow glow. 

You steal a shy glance at Steve as he looks around to take in the scene. The contours of his face are shrouded in shadow, bringing out the structure of his face. From the moment he stepped into the shelter, your knees nearly went weak, butterflies tickling in your stomach and fluttering down to your legs. The butterflies come back, wings flapping aggressively as you admire his features.

When his face gives a telltale tic, you look away quickly and he asks if there’s something wrong.

“No,” you answer a little too quickly. The shelter and your front door is only a few steps away, so you change the subject. “This is me.” 

“Convenient,” Steve remarks.

“Very,” you laugh. “I had a lot of fun today. It was nice to spend time with you. We should do it again sometime. If you want. You don’t have to, I just thought–” 

It happens quickly; Steve cups your jaw, tilting your head upwards to receive a kiss he presses into your lips. 

Pressing his forehead against yours, he feels your face rush with heat, his own skin tingling from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

You give a giddy laugh. “Seeing you.” Your eyes widen and lips purse, as if you spoke out of turn. “At least, I hope that’s what you’re getting at.” 

Steve laughs, straight from his belly and his memories continue to pound at the walls of the fortress containing them. 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m getting at.” 

He kisses you one more time, and watches as you unlock the door and give him one more wave before the door shuts behind you.

Staring up at the sky, the stars shine, multitudes more than visible in a big city. He remembers nights in remote areas while on missions, the cold ground beneath his back as he attempted to get sleep. 

The image of your hand in his flashes across his memory, warming his body. 

Then, the walls crumble, and the memories come forward.

------

I've lost track of people who want to be tagged. If you'd like to be tagged, please remind me and I'll be happy to oblige :)

[atierrorian]

The Tale of the Dragon and the Outsider

Context: You tell the tale to your kids of your story with Malleus.

tw: none! Just pure fluff! you and Malleus already graduated, reader is Yuu, some grammar mistakes

characters: Malleus, some mentions about Lilia

note: The reader is female so I'm sorry for the males and other genders but you can still imagine your gender! And you can imagine any name for the kids! I just put the names for references.

Word count: 1.7k

You miss some of the good old days back when you were still a student at Night Raven College. You remember when you were still new to the world, not knowing anything about the world you live in now. And it was all because of your curiosity about that mirror.

But if you had to be honest, you were kinda glad that your curiosity led you to this world, but you still wonder what happened to your family and friends, did they even bother to try and search for you? Or did they just give up on you? Did they already thought you were dead? I mean it has been years since you were in this world, so most likely yeah, but you do kinda wish you get to see them one more time.

You sat at the end of the bed while your hands were on your lap as you thought, coming into this world was most likely the best thing that could ever happen to you, and although you do miss your family and wish they could be here, they weren't, but you do wish that they were here to see the family you have now.

As you continued thinking, you suddenly felt a hand tugged on your sleeve trying to get your attention, you looked at where it was coming from and saw your little one trying to get your attention.

"Hm? Oh yes, Rae? What is it?" You asked the little girl who was tugging on your sleeve who successfully managed to get your attention.

"Um mama, I was wondering if you could tell us the story of you and Papa's story! Like how you two met and how it went on." The little girl said who looked excited to hear the tale of you and Papa's love story.

You looked at her, curious on why she was suddenly interested, wait, did she just say "us"?

You looked in front of you to see 2 more kids who shyly looked away, most likely embarrassed but also curious on how you and Malleus had met.

You softly chuckled at your 3 kids, they were so cute! And they took more on their dad, well Rae, the youngest, took more on you. The three kids looked at you, wondering why you started chuckling at them and that made them more flustered and embarrassed.

"Why are you all so suddenly interested in me and your papa's story?" You said while you softly smiled at the kids, Rae who climbed the bed hugged your arm said nothing as the two kids knew they would be the one talking.

"Well we heard from Lilia on how interesting your guy's story was and we got curious.." Your eldest son, Marcella said and looked like he was kinda regretting asking.

You smiled at your eldest son who tried to look away and hide away his flustered face as your middle child, Mika, tried to push Marcella towards you, wanting to hear the tale.

"Why didn't you three just asked Lilia then? You guys heard it from him on how interesting our tale was anyways." You said as you looked at the kids.

Your youngest, Rae, looked at you and shook her head.

"We wanted to hear it from you mama! We love Lilia's stories but we wanted to hear it from you!" Rae said with excitement in her says and a smile on her face. How could you say no that?

You sighed but nodded your head and told the kids to sit down on the carpet so that they can listen to the story you were about to tell them.

All of them did what you told them to and sat down on the carpet, Rae quickly let go of your arm and climbed down on the bed and also sat down on the carpet next to Marcella.

All of them looked so excited and you could practically see sparkles and excitement in their eyes as they all waited for you to start the story.

You cleared your throat and started the story.

"This is the story of "The Tale of the Dragon and the Outsider". Once upon a time"

.

.

.

There was once a lonely boy, the lonely boy's name was Malleus Draconia, just hearing the name, the people would shake in fear. But the boy did not like that, all he wanted was a friend, a friend who would accept him and would not be afraid of him.

But at last, a wishful thinking seemed only to be in a dream. A dream who he thought would never come true no matter how many years or centuries had pass. And so the boy continued to live in solitude for centuries.

Of course, he had his retainers and caretaker, but that was their job, they were there to protect him and the caretaker was there to care for him, he loved them dearly, but he really wanted a friend who did not have a role to care for him, a friend he would make on his own.

But even then, the boy held hope as he waited, and waited, and waited and kept dreaming of the day he would finally have a friend of his own, a friend who would always be there for him, a friend who would not be afraid of him.

But as time went on, the boy felt like losing his hope on such wishful thinking, but he wanted to believe that there would be someone, anyone, that would be willing to be his friend.

And then, his wish really did came true, the dream he had, became an reality. And he couldn't be more grateful that he had waited for so long, for the day he would have a friend.

.

.

.

A magicless human she was, who came from another world from her curiosity. She didn't know anything about this world, or how laws work in the world she was in. She was defenseless in the new world.

But she made friends along her journey in the new world, she met many new people, she made friends, helped others, and most of all, made a dream come true.

She was the prefect of the abandoned dorm of Ramshackle, where she has met a lonely boy on his nightly walks. The girl didn't know who he was and treated him like any other should be treated.

The boy was surprised but happy that someone new was finally talking to him without trembling in fear just of the sight of him. It was truly pitiful, but could you blame him?

The girl asked for the boy's name who simply said that he would later tell her his name later on, so the girl decided to give him the nickname "Tsunotarou" which meant hornton because of his horns, the boy was surprised at the nickname but lightly laughed. The boy then called the girl "Child of man", quite fitting no?

But before the the two could talk anymore further, he heard his retainers in the distance, and so he bid his farewell to the girl and disappeared, leaving only fireflies in his path.

The girl was surprise but was excited for their next meeting together.

.

.

.

"Oooo! And then what happens next?" Rae asked excitedly, she seemed really intrigued by the story so far and so did Marcella and Mika as all three of them leaned in to hear more.

You lightly chuckled and told them to be patient.

"Now now, just wait little ones, were getting to that now!" You said and clasped your hand, you adored your children so so much!

All of the three kids nodded and waited for you to resume the story.

You cleared your throat and continued.

.

.

.

The two continued meeting with one another in the night and got to know more about each other over those meetings with each other. Although those meetings were only for a moment, the two really did got to know each other more and more.

But, girl always wished to know the boy's name but the boy had refused, always saying that he'll tell her his name once he felt like it.

Despite the girl's curiosity, she respected the boy and said she'll wait for how long he'll make her wait for that day.

And so the two continued meeting with one another as they both basked in each other's companies, the two had enjoy their time with one another and had even fallen in love with one another.

Although the girl was a human and the boy was a fae, it did not stop the two from seeing each other. And loving one another.

The girl thought that it was impossible for the boy to be with her since he was the heir to the Briar Valley and she was a human, a mortal. And why would he love someone like her?

But the boy was very determined to make the girl see his feelings for her, whether she was a human or fae or any other creature, he would always love her.

For the girl had always showed kindness and compassion to the fae even after knowing his real name. Malleus Draconia.

And for that, the boy knew, she was the one.

The boy had asked for the girl to meet with him at the same spot the two had met, and the girl agreed. And there, the boy had confessed his love for the girl who had accepted his confession.

And now years later, the couple had graduated and married and now have 3 three kids with each other whom they very much love dearly and will always love each other until the very end.

The end.

.

.

.

You realized the ending was quite lazy, but you didn't know what else to add if you were being honest (Totally not saying this because I also got lazy and didn't have any ideas) but you thought it was a pretty good story for your kids.

Speaking of the kids, all three of them looked in awe and were very happy to hear the tale of you and Malleus. They were just sooo cute!!

The kids then see a figure by the door.

"Papa!" All of them yelled as they ran to their papa.

"Ah hello Tsunotarou! How long have you been listening?" You said as Malleus hugged his kids.

"Ever since the beginning, my love" He said and smiled as the kids were asking him some questions.

You smiled and laughed at the scene as Malleus answered all of their questions.

You were glad you were able to tell the tale to your kids of The Tale of the Dragon and the Outsider.

I hope you guys enjoy this fanfic! This took quite awhile and has been in my drafts for as long as I can remember now so! But I do hope you guys did enjoy this, more content will be release soon!

[danikamariewrites]

im so obsessed w the ddlg series🥰 can i please request azriel x reader ddlg where reader has a guy bestfriend who is ” a nice guy ” and he thinks himself a god for being respectful to women or not houding them for sex/ being outright a pig. And he’s like no one ever gives the nice guy a chance and tries to guilt/manipulate reader into leaving azriel to be with him instead. he says stuff like:

” i should have known you wanted someone like him”

” us nice guys do it all but get nothing back ”

” what do you even see in him, it’s ok you don’t have to lie i’ll be better to you. tou should date me instead”

and he just makes reader uncomfy when he tries to get close/kiss her so she tells azriel and he’s fuming and confronts the guy😍

Back Off

Azriel x reader

A/n: omg Az would go feral

Warnings: ddlg, creepy friend, violence, slight angst, then fluff

You were so excited to go out with your friends tonight. Azriel loved watching you bounce around getting ready with excitement. He had already laid your outfit out for you, now you were waiting for him to do your hair.

You stared up at Azriel from your vanity chair, “I’m ready daddy.” He moves to stand behind you, gathering your hair and brushing it out before braiding your hair. Your two girlfriends were brining their boyfriends so you talked Azriel into coming. Truthfully he would’ve gone if you just asked. He didn’t need to be told other males would be there, Azriel would go just to be near you.

What Azriel is not excited about is your “friend” Noah joining you all this evening. Truthfully, Azriel didn’t know why he was still part of the group. The male was truly unbearable and the way he treats females is abhorrent. But he hadn’t tried anything with you, Brenna, or Marcella so Azriel was fine to bite his tongue for now.

As you two walked into Rita’s Brenna and Marcella waved you over to the table. Their boyfriends Eric and Philip sitting beside them. And Noah and his latest victim at the very end.

Dinner wasn’t so bad. Noah was paying extra attention to you for some reason, but Azriel kept shutting him down. He could tell you didn’t like it from the way you gripped his hand under the table.

When dinner was over Azriel leaned over to whisper something in your ear, “Why don’t you and the girls go dance for a bit.” “Ok daddy,” you whisper back kissing his cheek. Out of the corner of his eye Azriel saw Noah’s jaw tick in frustration at the display of affection.

As the four of you go to dance Az makes light conversation with Eric and Philip. Noah seems to be too distracted by you and your friends dancing to pay attention. Azriel kept watching him intently. Noah aggressively pushed his chair back and stormed off toward the dance floor.

Azriel sent one of his shadows to watch over you. He had a bad feeling about Noah tonight. “I have question for the two of you,” Az drawls. Eric and Philip immediately turn their attention to the Shadowsinger. “Do you not like Noah around Brenna or Marcella? He’s weird toward y/n, I don’t like it.” He takes a swig of ale while the other two males nod.

“I hate the loser. Marcella has complained but he guilt trips her and she doesn’t want to be mean.” Philip said. “Brenna says the same thing. I can’t stand it.” Azriel leans back in his chair letting out a hum.

Out on the dance floor Marcella twirls you and you giggle. The three of you have been friends since you were teenagers. You’ve spent centuries forming a sister like bond that can’t be broken.

“I’m going to get another drink,” you yell over the music. The two of them nod and go back to dancing. As you stand at the bar you see Noah leave his day on the dance floor and walk over to you. You tense not wanting him to approach you. When Noah drinks he gets very touchy-feely with you.

Noah sidles up next to you, that too sure smile plastered on his face. “Hi baby,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t you have a date?” You bite back. He caresses your cheek with his knuckles and you jerk away. “Why won’t you give me a chance y/n? I’m a nice guy you know that.”

“Nice guys don’t brag about being nice.” You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. “What do you even see in Azriel. He’s a freak. You know we should be together y/n, don’t you feel it?” You give Noah a disgusted look. “How dare you say that about Azriel. You know you have some fucking—“

Noah steps closer to you, pursing his lips to kiss you. Your little shadow pulls on your wrist to get you away from Noah. You’re too shocked to even speak right now. You just want Azriel to hold and comfort you. You’d never leave him. Ever!

You had to find him. Right now. The shadow wraps tighter around your wrist as you run to Azriel. When you finally spot Azriel’s wings you see the males have moved to a high top table. You run full speed into Azriel, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle.

“Woah, princess what’s wrong?” He instantly wraps his arms and wings around you for comfort. “Noah. He called you a freak and said we shouldn’t be together, and that I should be with him, then he tried to kiss me.” You rambled as you looked up at Az with silver lined eyes. “I don’t wanna leave you daddy. I didn’t want to kiss him, I didn’t like that he did that.”

Azriel’s eyes widen with anger. “I know princess, I know. I’m going to take care of it. Where is Noah?” At the sound of yelling in the middle of the dance floor Azriel lowers his wings. A circle had formed around Brenna and Marcella kicking Noah while he was on the ground. “I got that, just stay with her.” He said to Eric and Philip. Azriel kissed you on the forehead and rushed off to help your friends.

He pulled Marcella and Brenna back. They turned on him, furious that a male was touching them. They relaxed when they saw Azriel. “You two have done a fantastic job, but I’ll take it from here. Take y/n home and I’ll be right there.” They nodded and left with you.

Azriel gripped Noah by the back of his neck, pulling him off the floor. “Let’s have a little chat.” Outside, Azriel shoved Noah against the alley wall. “You are to never go near her or the others again. Do you understand me?” Noah nods vigorously. His ability to speak crippled by his fear of Azriel.

Azriel took a step back staring the shorter male down. Before he could notice, Azriel pulled his fist back slamming it into Noah’s gut. He keeled over coughing and gasping for air. Next was a right hook to his face. The cracking of his jaw echoing off the damp brick walls. “If I ever see you again I will kill you.” Azriel turned his back on the male and calmly walked away.

Thirty minutes later Azriel was home relieving Brenna and Marcella. You hugged them goodbye, thanking them for standing up for you. When the door shut Azriel scooped you into his arms and held you close to his chest.

You cling to Azriel as he took you upstairs to your bedroom. He gently places you on the bed. Pulling back he looks down at you, caressing your cheek with his scarred hand. This felt right. He felt like home. You looked up at him with bright doe eyes. “Are you ok princess?” “Yeah,” you mumble out with a small smile. “Did you…” “He won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You pulled Azriel on to the bed, curling up in his lap. “I love you daddy.” “I love you more princess.” Azriel kisses the crown of your head and lays you down. “Let’s get ready for bed, yeah.” You nod against the soft pillow as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Will you read to me?” “Of course princess.”

“And cuddles?” “I’ll cuddle you all night.”

You felt like a weight had rolled off your shoulders. Azriel had taken care of the problem and now he was going to take care of you. He is truly perfect.

As you watched him move around the room getting your sleep clothes you couldn’t help but thank the Mother for this beautiful male. Your eyes never left Azriel. Even as he undressed you and wiped your makeup off. You were entranced by him.

Crawling into bed next to you, Azriel picked up your book from the bedside table. You made yourself at home in his lap. “Now, where we’re we?” He flipped through the pages, finding the last chapter you read. “Right here daddy.”

His sweet, soft voice soothed you. After only a few pages your eyes started to droop. Azriel noticed and smirked. He reread the last page and watched as your eyes fully closed. Putting the book back, Azriel pulled the covers over the two of you. “Goodnight princess. Daddy loves you very much,” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

[undergroundbillions]

I get why people who are into Jax like movie Andy but like, movie Andy is WAY nicer than Jax. Jax is not that nice. You want Jax Andy? MUSICAL Andy is where it's at. Observe:

General D: Would you desert a comrade, soldier? Andy: Well........

Or:

Ann: What a rotten selfish brat, run away to leave Marcella all alone? Baby: Let's do that! Andy: I don't want to be cooked in some pot, my stuffing'll all come out!

Or:

Andy: Got any cigars? Firecrackers? Roulette wheels? Party's gettin dull, needs a little spark, put some LIFE into things!

Or:

Andy: Got an idea, we fill this up with dynamite, slip it under the bat where she's sitting- Ann: Andy! Andy: I'm trying to be constructive! Camel: Got any dynamite? Andy: No.

Musical Andy is the chaotic creature I think you Jax enjoyers would appreciate.

[holmsister]

I think Ryoko Kui really hates coming up with place names honestly.

There's no way those bitches call their own land they live on "Eastern Continent". Maybe in Common or in Elven (since the "Central Continent" is Elven land) but everyone else??? East and West of what???

We get that one panel of Kabru repeating city names and theres no indication of what language they're in or where those cities are just... sounds we are told indicate cities. Which like 99% never appear on a map - you already have the name!!!! Just slap it somewhere!!!! I think she hated coming up with those names so much and doesn't really want to focus on them.

Like. The Toudens are from the North of the Northern Continent and Marcella is from the South of the Northern Continent. Do you see what a pain in the butt that is there is just no way people actually talk like that between each other. We get to see their backstory in detail and yet she NEVER names idk. The Touden's village. The mountain range they apparently were nearby. Are there any named bodies of water anywhere? We just dont know. It's incredible. Someone send her one of those fantasy name generators please we can't go on like this

[swordsandarms]

Man, I forgot how fucked up the scene was and how malicious Septa Mordane is with Arya specifically. You will have people write about how she is some struggling teacher with a peevish tongue sticking student. But she actually brought a child to tears and tried to force her to be seen sobbing in front of her peers.

1. This is not a helpful teacher going around her students to check their work and give advice. She targets Arya specifically (Marcella's work was also imperfect, but she has no power over Myrcella). Her tirade is straight up theatrical and loud on purpose. She doesn't point out what's wrong and how to fix it. It's all about putting Arya down.

2. Myrcella, a visitor, is made uncomfortable and feels sorry for Arya. But for the girls in Winterfell this seems to be a routine. They have been desensitized to this malicious behaviour (Sansa) or even find it typical entertainment (Jeyne).

3. She brings the little girl to tears. There is nothing worse for a child than to be seen crying, especially with strangers around, so Arya tries to leave. The Septa wants her to stay to endure that further humiliation. She is very visibly crying. No "go calm down and wipe your face and then you can return to your work" as some normal teacher/adult might do in such a situation while remaining stern. This is plain cruel.

4. She weaponizes Myrcella's presence to add up to how Arya is "doing everything wrong". Arya tries to "act right" by taking her leave from the Princess. Myrcella is further made uncomfortable by this whole situation, and how she's pushed at the front this way. And the Septa immediately intercepted before Myrcella could or couldn't give Arya leave by making it clear it wasn't about Myrcella - it's about cruelly keeping Arya there to suffer the humiliation of crying in front of her peers, no ifs or maybes. And, again, that is also at the detriment of the guests' comfort, as they are made uncomfortable already and moreso if they had to stay there to hear/watch this girl cry. Creating Arya discomfort is more important, though.

5. Arya's one bold ("misbehaving") act is the horse shoe bit, but we later find out that in such purely denigrating tirades meant only to make Arya feel bad about herself instead of constructive feedback on how to mend her work, the septa would tell her she has "a blacksmith's hands", turning it into a personal fault rather than the technicality of how to do the work.

Vile.

[ellorypurebloodculture]

For FSFS if it's still open:

Anything with Marcus Flint? I love how you write him so much! And the whole concept of house Flint is so interesting. Maybe fem! Marcus?

Thank you for your writing 💛

I've never written female!Marcus before. So, naturally, now that the idea has been put in my head, I had to pick this one next. ❤️

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

Heiress Marcella Flint genuinely and truly believes that no one will ever want to bond with her; she's brilliant on a broom, a superb dueller, and excellent at estate management, but she's also very tall for a witch, much more muscular than most wizards in Avalon, and describing her face as "plain" instead of "ugly" would be a generous kindness.

Most magicals consider an appealing physical appearance to be in the top three most important traits when seeking someone with whom to bond, so ... she keeps her expectations realistic, in the hope it'll stave off the worst of the heartache that only deepens with each new engagement announcement in the Daily Prophet when she's never once received a single offer for a preliminary Courtship Date.

So, when Heir Blaise Zabini approaches her at Pomegranate as the cafe is about to close, and extends a Bouquet of Intent to her, Marcella jams the tip of her wand in his throat before he can even speak a word and hisses, "I don't care who dared you to do this, or what bet you lost, Zabini, but if you think I'll let you humiliate me like this, it's the last thing you'll ever think in this life."

Blaise leans closer, not even flinching as her wand digs more deeply into his skin, and says with a smirk, "Zabinis have always been attracted to lethality above all else, Heiress Flint, and I've never met a more dangerous magical than you; I'll offer whatever vow you want to prove my sincerity."

The ice Marcella has spent a lifetime packing around her heart cracks clear through, and only time will tell if that weakness will destroy her utterly or save her from her lonely prison.

[writing-whump]

So in the Sick or Not fic Isaiah said that Matt would be able to sleep it off in no time...but what if he doesn't and Isaiah wakes up in the middle of the night to Matt being sick...I love the promt of characters getting sick in bed and then apologizing over and over🤭

•) Well... how do you feel about exploring Matthew's current state with his shadow? Maybe him accidentaly meeting someone from his old family, but not Marcella. This kind of meeting, which is not pleasant for both sides. (physically, emotionally, you surely will know 👀)

•) I loveee your writing and would love some feverish Matthew 😍

•) I'd love to see more of Matt being the one who needs comfort, preferably for something emotional, not physically. He's my fav character and I love your writing.

You guys really like torturing Matt, don't you?😂 I thought of a way to combine all of these together. Thank you for the requests, nonnies!!💙

Rough night

Isaiah woke up a bit after midnight to loud retching.

He shot up on the bed, turning on the bedside table lamp. Squinting with the light as his eyes readjusted to it, he pinpointed the likely source very quickly.

The black haired wolf jumped down from the bed to Matthew's side.

Matthew looked barely awake, only one eye open. Which didn't seem to stop his body from purging all the water that Isaiah managed to get into him before sleeping.

Isaiah kept waking him up during the whole afternoon to make him drink. Matthew was still feverish, but he was mostly sleepy and kept it down, so Isaiah allowed himself to believe the worst was over.

Matthew was heaving loudly, all the water making a foul smelling reappearance. The pillow, the sheets, the edge of the bed...and down his shirt.

"Z-zaya, I'm s-sorry," Matthew managed between heaves. He tried to lean over the bed, but his body jolted with another gag, more sick splashing onto the sheets and down his front. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I couldn't-"

"Okay, okay, shhhh. It's alright." Isaiah took Matthew's arm, trying to drag him out of the center of the mess.

Matthew swayed though, scorching heat radiating off him. They barely stumbled out of the bed, sliding down to the floor instead.

Matthew was a sight, with the vomit dribbling down his chin and shirt. He was taking fast shuddering breath, eyes blown with panic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologizing," Isaiah admonished him gently, wrapping an arm around Matthew to stop him from pitching to the side. "You are burning with fever, you can barely move and you didn't even wake up before you got sick. Shit happens. Not your fault."

Matthew sniffled loudly. "But the bed is a mess, I'm a mess, I n-need to-"

"Shush. You don't need anything, except to breathe for a minute. Can you just sit back and breathe for me?"

Matthew hiccuped, shivering, but he leaned obediently against Isaiah's side. His chest went up and down in fast succession, until it started to even out.

"Good. I'm gonna get you out of this shirt and then you can sleep in my bed, how does that sound?"

"Like you want your bed ruined too," Matthew said tiredly.

Isaiah snickered. "Glad you got your humor back. Come on, arms up."

He carefully lifted the rims of Matthew's loose black shirt up, carefully maneuvering it around his hair.

The movement seemed to shake Matthew's stomach too much. The sick wolf moaned, doubling over, clutching his belly. "Gonna be s'ick."

Isaiah threw the shirt to the floor and reached for the small metal bin under Matthew's desk. He brought it under Matthew just in time for the wolf to loudly retch into it. A wave of watery vomit splashed against the discarded papers inside.

Isaiah rubbed his back, from one shoulder to the other. "Ah man. This one is hitting you like a truck."

Matthew groaned, gagging harshly, head almost completely inside the bin.

"You are okay. Just get it up, you will feel better." Isaiah was actually quite alarmed at the progression of this flu. Matthew was radiating heat, almost burning to the touch and he was currently losing all of the liquid Isaiah forced into him against the fever.

The heaves finally tempered off. Matthew leaned back against the bed, bin almost falling out of his grasp if Isaiah didn't catch it in time.

"My stomach hurts."

"I know, buddy, I know. Deep breaths, you are okay." Isaiah got up. He needed supplies, get the bin cleaned out, get some towels-

"You leaving?" Matthew made that weird sniffling sound again, voice small.

"I'm just gonna clean this out, I'm gonna be right- Matt!"

Matthew was crying. Isaiah didn't understand how he had any fluids left to do so, but there were tears sliding down his cheeks and around his nose.

That had Isaiah sitting back down on the floor immediately, wrapping Matthew in a hug. "Hey, hey, what's up with that, Matt? Everything's fine, you are going to be alright."

"This is disgusting," Matthew whined, burying his face into Isaiah's chest. "I'm disgusting. And I have nowhere to go."

"What do you mean? You are home."

"B-but you and Sel-," he gulped loudly, lips quivering as he looked up at Isaiah. His face was flushed with the fever. "You got your brothers back. Don't you- shouldn't you inherit the Wolfson pack now? You can go back and Seline has a family to go back to- and I-I don't-"

Isaiah rubbed Matthew back with one hand as he held him, wrecking his head how Matthew came up with that notion. "We are not leaving anywhere, don't be silly. This is my pack. I'm not going back there, that's nonsense."

Matthew sniffled pitifully, his breathing evening out a little. He fisted a hand in Isaiah's shirt as if to physically stop him from leaving. "I saw Maddie last week."

"Who?"

"Mads. My second oldest sister." Matthew's body went limp against Isaiah, like a dead weight against his chest. "She is just a year and half older than me. As kids we were like twins."

"I didn't know you had a sister that close in age. Where did you see her?"

"A-at uni." Matthew took a shuddering breath. "She is studying economics too. I-I followed her to class. She was taking statistics and tax opimalization."

Isaiah hummed, rubbing little circles on Matthew's back with his thumb. "So she must be good with maths. Like you."

"Uhmm." Matthew hiccuped again, the noise turning into a soft burp at the end. "I couldn't- I couldn't let her see me. I was scared she would- she would make that expression as Melissa makes- and if she and their mother convinced her to- to be scared of me- then..."

"Aww, bud," Isaiah cooed, alarmed by the way Matthew's voice broke at the end with a sob. "When did this happened? You could have told me."

"T-thursday. You were packing up, I didn't- my shadow was a mess," Matthew said with an ironic self-deprecating tone, "g-got sick in school already."

"I'm sorry."

Matthew's chest hitched with a sob. The movement ushered out a burp. Because Matthew was basically pressed against Isaiah, the other wolf would distinctly feel Matthew's body shuddering and jerking up with a heave.

Isaiah pushed him away gently to grab the bin again, planting it in his lap in front of Matthew. Matt struggled over it, retching emptily. The sound echoed around the whole room.

Fever, revelations and an upset stomach were not a good combination.

"You are working yourself up too much," Isaiah said softly, holding Matthew up as he strained over the bin. There was a new line of spit hanging from his bottom lip. Isaiah was getting desperate to make Matthew feel better somehow.

Matthew sobbed quietly, eyes glazed over.

Isaiah cupped his cheeks in his hands, making him focus.

"Hey. Look at me. Things aren't perfect, but you aren't alone. You got a home and a pack and it's supposed to be something you can rely on. I'm not leaving, Sel is not leaving. I love this pack so much, Matt. What we have here together. I wouldn't want a big pack with corrupt leadership and years of grudges. Hector will take over and that will be good, cause he would never settle for being the second one anyway. He will change the pack from the inside, he likes the challenge. And I'll get to enjoy my small pack to the fullest."

Matthew's lips shook as he pressed them together. Isaiah thought his heart would break at the sight.

"Come on, up with you. The fever must be frying your brain, when you can still doubt me like that." Isaiah wrapped his hands around Matthew's arm, hoisting him up.

They stumbled the few steps to Isaiah's bed. Isaiah helped him lay down against the pillow, squeezing his nape. "I'm going to be right back, okay? Stay here for a sec."

Matthew didn't protest this time, looking wiped. He cradled his naked belly gingerly.

Isaiah figured with the fever as high as it was he could forgo getting him another shirt.

He threw the cover over the mess on the bed and opened the windows to help with the sticky smell. Then he finally allowed himself to go into the bathroom to get towels and water.

All his new supplies gathered and the bin cleaned out, he returned to the room. He wrapped a giant towel he soaked in cold water around Matthew's forehead, neck and chest, leading up to his stomach.

Matthew shivered, whining at the touch. "Ow. That's cold."

"I know, but your are too warm." Isaiah readjusted the towel, so it wouldn't touch Matthew's stomach, but let it on. Then he joined him on the bed, turning the light off.

"How are you holding up?"

Matthew squirmed on top of the covers, muffling a burp against the pillows. "Ugh. You got the bin somewhere close?"

He sounded a lot more coherent now. Isaiah thanked the Shadow he wasn't crying anymore. "Yep, it's right here." Isaiah tugged the bin closer to his side, ready to pull it close, when needed.

He couldn't help but reach over to Matthew, petting his hair. Matthew sighed, relaxing at the touch.

"Wolf plus one makes a pack. You are the first person I ever wanted to be in a pack with," Isaiah said quietly. He was always the one afraid Matthew would leave. It was stunning to see Matthew worried about the same thing. "And we got a witch too. Most packs don't get a witch years after being created, with over 20 members on one witch."

There was nothing as stabilising as a witch deciding the pack was worth using her magic and calming, mending effects for. It was the greatest honor.

Isaiah thought they would make it without her too, but it was so much better to have her there. The wave of affection and closeness he felt for both of them left him breathless on some days. And he knew he was getting a bit daring with the touches. The closer her felt, the more he craved the contact. The more he wanted to give it.

Matthew didn't seem to mind on this particular night, shifting closer. His stomach gurgled loudly and the red-haired wolf cringed.

"Still hurting? You want a heating pad?"

Matthew scoffed, huddling closer into himself. His hands rested on top of his belly as if he was trying to warm it up.

Isaiah reached over without thinking, planting his hand on top of Matthew's puffy stomach. He followed around the gurgles, massaging it gently, just like Seline did for him. He never would have thought of the idea without experiencing her miraculous touch.

Matthew tensed, a little gasp escaping. But then he put his hands out of the way, leaving Isaiah space to work.

"Okay like this?"

Matthew hid his face in the crook of his arm, breathing out softly. "Okay."