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#but this story is just a delight so enjoy
hwaightme · 3 days
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Cliché
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(masterlist)
🥂pairing: jongho x gn!reader 🥂genre: fluff, acquaintances to lovers 🥂summary: normally, you are not one to enjoy clichés, but what can you do when the best man at your best friend's wedding is choi jongho? 🥂wordcount: 1.6k 🥂warnings/tags: unedited, reader is 'maid of honour', puns, jjong-rizz, dancing, much pining, it's giving 80s/90s romcom, flirting, lmk if anything else 🥂author's note: 'chella jjong. that's the post. thank you so much <3 any reblogs/comments appreciated!
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It might be cliché. Something you had seen in films and shows many times over. You had scoffed at the pairing and labelled it as a trope tied by tradition and the general public desire for happy endings to everything - despite it rarely ever being the case. But here you were, catching yourself staring a little too long at the best man, and discovering that your heart was beating just that little bit faster, fluttering whenever he whispered one thing or another to you so as to not attract attention from other people who shared the table.
It wasn’t that you did not know Jongho, hell, you knew him very well - or at least the on-stage Jongho, the ace performer Jongho, the legendary vocalist Jongho. Having seen his achievements on the news and having heard stories about him travelling across your social circle, you were well aware of his professional capabilities. You, however, could not say much beyond that. Past common courtesies and the occasional nod in recognition, you had never shared as much as a couple of sentences with the man. Even though he was the groom’s closest friend and your best friend’s, the bride’s, recent but trustworthy acquaintance, he was a mystery to you. A mystery with an infinitely precious smile and a sense of humour that was too similar to yours to be able to hold a poker face.
It all started with a pun on an item in the set course menu for dinner. And then another. And then another, completed by yourself much to his delight. Soon enough, both of you were dissolving into a fit of giggles, sharing the jokes that others either had not quite understood or heard. It did not matter. They were not addressed to them anyways. At least not when Jongho was fully turned towards you, a glimmer in his eyes and a softness so indescribable painted across his features that you struggled to regain your composure.
You were quick to connect over the many things you had in common, and spent some time simmering in each other’s passions, enjoying the stars in one another’s eyes as you delved deeper into details. He was kind, attentive. A listener. But at the same time, no matter what topic you ventured into, even if just tentatively and temporarily, he remained just as transfixed by you as you were by him. Whenever you were worried that you had over-talked your welcome, he would encourage you to continue with a gentle question. In a rapidly descending spiral, you got addicted to his melodic laughter and how his nose would scrunch up occasionally, far too adorable to resist. 
Jongho reminded you of old classics, golden autumn sunshine and the sensation of when you get to rest after a long day in your favourite cafe, with a warming cup of the finest brew; perhaps this was because you found out you shared an appreciation for coffee with him. Be it ‘Roman Holiday’ or ‘Singing in the Rain’, Jongho retained a certain something that could not be defined by simply taking in a snippet of the present day. While you referenced recent trends and popular videos spreading online at each other, nonetheless there was something timeless about him. You wondered if this was exactly why his voice was so enchanting. The aura spread from the way he carried himself, to the way he made you feel, to the way he made you wish you did not have to look at anyone else. Dark locks that were elegantly styled to highlight him as every bit a gentleman, pretty espresso-coloured eyes that you had memorised by now, a tailor-made suit and infinite charisma that made you forget you were at somebody else’s wedding.
“I do wonder why we had never spoken before,” you mused out loud as Jongho led you to the dance floor to catch the pace slowing down to gentler, more loving tracks.
“Good things take time,” he took no time in answering, almost startling you as you caught his words.
“Ah I see, needed time for interest to build,” you teased, earning a shake of the head and a shy smile.
“Or perhaps,” he snaked his arm around your waist, and waited for you to position yourself comfortably to join in a slow dance, “to muster up the courage.”
“Hm? Pray tell,” you tilt your head, floating to the music and the sound of Jongho’s voice.
“Well I hardly think that gawking across the room is a good way to get to know someone,” you felt blush rising to your cheeks as you thought back to the times when you would study him or sneak glances at different gatherings where both of you just so happened to be - rare, but astonishingly memorable, at least the times when you could capture him in your vision and imprint him in your mind. When you looked away, just for a split second to regain your composure, you heard a soft exhale and were met with a cheeky grin, “I was referring to myself, but I am glad to know that the intrigue was mutual.”
“Hm- so, what made you want to change things up?” you swore that if he were to let go of you right this second, you would probably collapse on the floor. 
“A kind piece of advice from your friend in white. Told me that I should probably take my chances,” he tilted his head in the direction of the bride and groom before turning in time to the song.
“Wise words,” for what had to be the first time in your life, you decided to be grateful that your friend had a penchant for matchmaking.
You never quite let yourself drift in daydreams too deeply, be it out of a fear that they would turn into regular escapist paradise or out of despising the sensation of disappointment that often proceeded after entertaining even the simplest idea. But now, you could not bring yourself to avoid anything. If anything, you desperately wanted to dive in, see where the duet could take you.
One song replaced another, and you were still in his embrace, allowing yourself to enjoy the moments trickling by. Butterflies were replaced by a novel serenity, as though no matter what happened, Jongho would still be around. It made you remember something you had read about one time: the premonition of love, the feeling that in the future, you could love a person with your mind, body and soul. And, funnily enough, the realisation did not make you want to bolt in the opposite direction like it usually did. Instead, you leaned closer, and spotted the glints of that same new beginning in Jongho’s gaze.
Were you confident? No, far from it. If anything, you knew that the chances of things working out were rather disconcerting, but you did not mind trying. You could not deny the spark that was between you, nor could you ignore the realisation that this was not a spontaneous meeting of two strangers. If there was something you could choose to regret, it would be not attempting to get to know Jongho earlier; but then again, was it time lost, or a necessary pause that led you to where you were now? As the song blended into another and the two of you stepped away from the dance floor, you noticed you were still resting your hand in his. Shyly, you pulled away, your actions only to be mirrored by an equally flustered Jongho. His airy, melodic giggle made you beam; you struggled to hide it by studying the floor. It was easy to conclude that your efforts were in vain when he reached out to brush his hand over your upper arm, and carefully uttered your name. In the span of the evening, how he said it became your favourite sound.
“I’m not a fact, but I’d love it if you were to face me,” he joked, making you purse your lips in an effort to not crack so quickly.
“Jongho, come on-”
“You must be floored-” you looked up, met with a smug and mischievous grin that melted into relief and an unparalleled radiance. Oh this man and his silly puns. How you were fond of it all.
“Careful, you might just steal the show,” you gestured around you, reminding both him and yourself that you were, in fact, supposed to be celebrating somebody else. Not that you minded the attention and the way in which your heart twirled.
“Mmm, fair. Then, how about… this is our first meeting. First real meeting, I mean. We can be the main event elsewhere, if you agree to join me,” he was hopeful, gaze locked with yours. Music barely reached you, drowned out by his proposition and the steady beat of your growing feelings.
“Are you asking me out, Choi Jongho?”
“Mm, I do believe so. So, will you do me the honour and agree to go on a date with me?”
“How can I resist?”
You smiled as you felt Jongho guiding you into a spin before rejoining the dancing crowd, and happily followed. As you returned a hand to his shoulder and delicately repositioned the other to be palm to palm with his, you could not help but recollect your now archaic musings. Perhaps some clichés were more than welcome, and some things did make you wholeheartedly believe in and hope for your... and his... happy ending. 
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flowerandblood · 1 day
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The Fall from the Heavens (27)
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: fingering, masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk, kissing without consent, swearing ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
When her uncle decided that they would spend the night in Dragonstone for a moment she thought she had overheard herself − she was unable to contain her delight and outburst of joy at his words, feeling that he had somehow rewarded her for her efforts.
Or at least she thought he had.
His sudden change of plans was unlike him, and she was aware of that, knowing his nature.
He detested deviating from the plans he had previously made for himself.
However, she recognised that perhaps he wanted to show her and her family his sincere intentions, to prove that she was not just a prisoner in his eyes and that he, as her husband, could also sleep under their roof without being one.
She wasn't sure if she had ever been as happy in her life as she had been the moment she flew through the sky next to Vhagar, Caraxes and Syrax; her heart was filled with heat and hope, her uncle's words echoing in her mind like a sweet whisper.
I am proud of you.
Those words meant more to her than any of his other confessions.
Of course, his confession of love was a wonderful thing, but she had always been waiting for him to appreciate her as a person, not just a woman he saw by his side.
With this, she finally felt equal to him.
Her optimism extinguished as quickly as it had appeared as soon as she crossed the walls of the family fortress. Although her heart screamed with joy at the sight of familiar rooms, smells and sights, the faces of her brothers left her with no illusions.
She swallowed loudly as she saw the hateful look on Jace's face; she knew him and she knew that he was hurt.
He was disappointed and heartbroken, he felt humiliated and, deep down, betrayed by her, even though she never meant it.
Luke clearly didn't know what he felt himself, because he just lowered his head, unable to look into her eyes.
She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, a discomfort in her stomach that told her that perhaps this wasn't her home at all anymore.
She was no longer welcome here.
She was snapped out of her reverie by Rhaena − her step-sister was the first to approach her, warmth and longing in her gaze, some kind of understanding from which she felt tears under her eyelids. They hugged each other tightly, though they had never done so before − her words made her feel a tightening in her stomach.
"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice, and she smiled involuntarily at her words.
"Me too."
As Baela approached them, also enclosing her in the tight embrace of her arms, she thought with a shrug that even though she hadn't let them into the depths of her heart for so many years, they truly cared and worried about her.
At the very end Joffrey ran up to her, sobbing loudly.
"− why have you been so long in King's Landing? − why did you leave us? − Jace wouldn't read me my favourite book −" He mumbled cuddled into her belly, her hands combing through his dark curls with the calm motion of her fingers.
"− forgive me − I'm here −" She said softly, looking at her older brother and swallowed hard, seeing the murderous glances they exchanged over the table with her husband.
She looked at her mother, who nodded, understanding what she wanted to convey to her.
"You are certainly exhausted. Take up your old quarters, daughter, I will immediately command them to be brought to order and prepared for you." Rheanyra said calmly, and she bowed before her.
"Thank you, my Queen." She said softly, looking into her eyes. Her mother swallowed hard and nodded, allowing them to leave.
As they stepped inside her chamber, she felt a squeeze in her heart and some kind of elation; all her belongings were in their places exactly as she had left them, as if no one had been allowed in here since she had been forcibly held in the Red Keep.
She shuddered, snapped out of her reverie when her uncle moved ahead of her, strolling around the room with his hands folded behind his back, intrigued.
It seemed to her that some part of him wanted to understand what her life had been like and who she had been for the eight years during which they had been separated.
She saw him walk over to her old oak desk and run his fingers over its top, thoughtful.
"− is this here? −" He asked casually.
She felt heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that he meant the place where she had written letters to him.
"− yes −"
She swallowed quietly as he hummed at her words, watching as he sat in the chair where she sat many times leaning over the parchment, scribbling words on it meant only for his eyes. He tapped his finger on the armrest, turning to face her in profile as he gazed out of the window, apparently absorbed in memories.
She thought that although her return home had proved more uncomfortable than she had thought, she was grateful to him.
Whatever decision he had made that morning had led them here and was proof of his intentions.
"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said quietly, smiling at him, wanting him to know she wouldn't force him to sit at the same table with her family.
She thought she would spend the evening with him, give him the feeling that she was not speaking with anyone behind his back, and perhaps in the morning, before they flew away, she would ask him so that she could speak to her mother at last in peace and solitude.
Comforted by this thought and the fact that it looked like all was not lost, she began to tell him about her life in Dragonstone, to show him the books she had written to him about in her letters, the places she had flown to on Larax.
It seemed to her that her husband was only partially listening to her; his gaze was thoughtful, his face expressed weariness and discouragement. She knew that something was making him uncomfortable and she suspected that it was about the place they were in; however, she did not know how to help him, to give him the feeling that neither he nor she was in danger here.
"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −" She finally made an attempt to find out what had been on his mind since the morning. He shuddered at her words and looked at her with a horror as if he was about to faint.
"I'm tired." He replied quickly, without thinking, as if he wanted to answer her anything just to end the subject. She sighed quietly, recognising that she couldn't push him too hard.
Not after what they had managed to accomplish.
"Let's go to bed."
She felt a squeeze in her throat as, already lying on the bedding, she watched as he took out his dagger and tucked it under his pillow; she looked at him and met his calm, impassive gaze.
She decided not to say anything, understanding where his caution came from, not wanting to discourage or frustrate him.
She smiled involuntarily, content as his body clung to hers as soon as he lay at her side. She heard him murmur as she snuggled his face between her breasts, felt his arms embrace her waist and tighten around the material of her nightgown on her back.
She loved it when her mother sang lullabies to her when she was a child; it always calmed and soothed her. She had never dared to sing to him when they were children, fearing that her voice was too squeaky and unpleasant, but now she decided that maybe that was just what he needed.
So she sang, humming softly, once in a while placing a warm, lingering kiss on the top of his head − she felt his embrace slowly growing weaker, his muscles relaxing, his breathing quiet and even.
She sighed quietly feeling him fall asleep.
Someone's jerking and growling roused her from a deep sleep; when she opened her eyes for a moment she didn't know where she was or what was happening.
She recognised her chamber but did not know what her uncle was doing in it, convinced that he still had not answered her letters, as he had not done so for eight years.
After a moment, however, her mind seemed to regain focus and she remembered that she was his wife after all, and that his silhouette lying beside her was not a figment of her imagination.
She raised herself up on her elbow seeing that his body convulsed once in a while, as if he was trying to break free of something, whimpers and grunts came out of his throat, however, his mouth did not open, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes one by one.
"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!" She called out, grabbing his arm, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.
She was frightened and jumped back as his eye opened suddenly, his figure rose to sit up, and he began to pant like a wild animal, quivering all over. She looked at him in disbelief, horrified to hear that he was struggling to catch his breath.
Was he having nightmares again?
Was he dreaming again of the night he lost his eye?
"− easy, my love − breathe −" She whispered tenderly, gently touching his back; he flinched all over and looked at her as if he didn't recognise her − his eye was wide open, his nostrils twitched in accelerated, heavy breaths.
"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled like a small, terrified child and fell into her arms, bursting into a sob so loud that the voice stuck in her throat.
She embraced him immediately, letting him find protection and comfort in her arms, stroking affectionately his hair and back, placing warm, soft kisses on the top of his head in an attempt to reassure him.
"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She mumbled, feeling that the fabric of her nightgown was all wet with his tears, his hot, broken breath enveloping her skin.
She felt like he wanted to melt into one with her, to hide deep inside her from whatever it was that scared him.
He was silent for a long moment, trying to calm himself; she hushed him tenderly, whispering that he was safe, that she was by his side, that all was well. She finally heard him swallow hard, his voice trembling and uncertain.
"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −" He muttered. She blinked, twisting comfortably in her seat, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.
"− I'm listening to you, my love −" She whispered, stroking his hair. She released him from her arms when she felt him wanting to rise.
He sat on the bedding with his side facing her, running his shaking hand over his face, his healthy eye closed as if afraid of what was about to leave his mouth.
"− I − fuck −" He began, swallowing hard − her hand rose to his back, stroking it reassuringly.
"− easy − take your time − start from the beginning −" She encouraged him softly, not wanting him to fall silent again, seeing that he wanted to throw off whatever had been weighing on his shoulders since they had left Harrenhal.
"− you may remember − Lord Strong wanted to speak with me soon after we arrived in Harrenhal −" He said uncertainly, and she nodded, reminding herself that this was indeed what had happened.
"− yes −"
Her uncle swallowed hard, drawing in air loudly.
"− he told me at the time − that my grandfather had no intention of letting your mother and Daemon leave the Eyrie alive if it turned out they wouldn't accept our terms − but now I think they wouldn't have left alive anyway − Larys had his spies there −" He muttered and fell silent, freezing completely as she did, her heart beginning to pound like mad.
My grandfather had no intention of letting them leave the Eyrie alive.
"Will you be by my side even when all is lost? Even if there is nothing left but darkness? Is that what you had in mind then?" She mumbled out in pain, feeling that there was a complete void in her mind. "Will I be there for you even if your grandfather kills my mother?"
"− n-no −" He began quickly. "− will you be there for me even if I fail to prevent it knowing that I didn't tell you −"
She felt a constriction in her throat and lower abdomen, felt tears of disappointment and sadness flowing into her eyelids − now it was her body that trembled in convulsions, his gaze full of shame and horror directed at her.
She sucked his cock, she let him take her, and he knew that the next day her father and her mother could be murdered.
She pressed her lips together, shaking her head and laughed low.
"− you will betray me − you will run away − those are your words, aren't they? − you were always the first to accuse me − was it because you were trying to cover up your own conscience? − you wanted me to let you down so that you wouldn't feel guilty about doing it over and over again? −" She asked with a cold mockery, from which he bowed his head in embarrassment, in a subconscious reflex he had inherited from his mother plucking the cuticles around his fingernails.
He did not answer.
"− what should I do now? − divorce you? − say I won't come back to King's Landing with you? − not speak to you for eight years? − tell me, uncle, what do you think you deserve? −" She asked dispassionately, feeling the tears of rage and grief one by one run down her cheeks.
She saw him tremble at her words and curl into himself, as if he were again the same little boy who had cried in her arms when his mother had reprimanded him for inappropriate behaviour.
She pressed her lips into a thin line as he hid his face in his hands and wept helplessly, as if his whole person, everything he had built around himself was just falling apart in front of her eyes, showing him his insides, what was left of him.
He was vulnerable.
"− fuck − I − I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd change your mind − that if you warned them they'd see it as a betrayal and wouldn't want to pact − that's why I didn't let any of us stay in the Eyrie − I −"
"− because my mother agreed − but what would you have done if things had turned out differently? −" She asked coldly, and he swallowed hard, covering his eyes with his hand, as if he could not bear what he felt or this conversation.
"− I don't know − I don't know how I could have protected both you and my family then − what decision of mine would have saved you from death −" He muttered and she pulled herself up from the bed, recognising that she didn't feel like listening to this, that she had had enough of him and his guilt when it was always him, him, him disappointing her.
From the first night she had returned to him, when he had closed her cheeks in the brutal grip of his fingers she had seen in his eye what had now become clear to her.
He was weak, and when he was afraid, he resorted to violence.
She heard him stand up behind her, panting heavily, wiping his tear-wet face with his hand.
"− no − don't leave − I told you because −"
"− because your conscience didn't give you peace − because you didn't want to carry your guilt alone −" She hissed, turning towards him with furrowed brows.
She felt that fury, not blood, was flowing through her veins now.
He swallowed loudly at her words, looking at her wide-eyed.
"− if you've never hidden anything from me − you've never concealed anything from me for fear that I might react impulsively, leave − but if you did, come back to bed − I won't touch you −"
She pressed her lips together in fury, recognising that he must have been mocking her, but then she felt an unpleasant sting in her heart that proved she had doubts.
She heard again the words of one of her servants in King's Landing whispering in her ear that when the time came, Prince Daemon would help her escape; she heard again the words of Alys speaking of the prophecy she had not shared with him for fear of his reaction.
Had she really never hidden anything from him?
Her whole body screamed for her to leave; she wanted to do it, but felt that if she did, she would be lying to herself and to him, creating an image in which she was without flaw.
She could say that she had the right to do it, that she had good intentions, but didn't her uncle think the same about his decisions?
She glared at him and let out a loud breath, returning to the bed without a word, sinking into the soft sheets, turning her face away from him. She heard him breathe heavily, and after a moment, the bed creaked under the weight of his body settling against her back.
"− tell me −" He whispered.
She sighed heavily and grunted, recognising that her faults were less than his anyway.
So why did she still feel shame and a squeeze in her gut?
"− after I tried to take my life I was told that my father could help me escape − don't ask how − I also didn't tell you about the prophecy I heard from Alys −"
"− that fucking witch is a liar −" He growled, and she let out a loud breath, impatient.
"− it is possible − but I also heard this prophecy from your sister's mouth − both of them spoke of two rivers of blood merging into one, taking the shape of a dragon's crowned head −" She choked out finally, her husband stirring beside her in his place, surprised.
"− what could this mean? −"
"− I don't know − I was afraid that when you heard it, you would want to give up on the negotiations and return to King's Landing − Alys warned me, so she probably knew what your grandfather was planning to do −" She said regretfully, thinking that strange woman was more concerned for her safety and her family than her husband.
She heard him swallow hard, letting the air out loudly.
"− forgive me −"
She lay in silence for some time, feeling anger that he expected her to simply forget everything, understand his reasons and forgive him as always.
No.
"− I will forgive you, but I have my conditions − we will stay here longer − for a week or two, I will decide in the morning −" She said coldly.
"− but − my mother will be convinced that they are holding us by force −" He began, but she would not let him finish.
"− you will write a letter to your brother informing him that my mother has accepted his terms, but is also setting her own − that we will stay here to discuss all the details, show our goodwill − if your mother wishes, she can travel here in her own person − you can leave Dragonstone when you wish, but I will stay here as long as I desire, and you will show no opposition −" She said impatiently, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her hands clenched into fists.
Her husband swallowed loudly at her words, tense.
"− I − very well −" He muttered finally, knowing that any other words would forever cross him out in her eyes.
She hummed under her breath, covering herself tightly with the bedding and closed her eyes, figuring she wouldn't turn towards him for the rest of the night.
"− don't try to take me or embrace me −" She commanded and he sighed quietly.
She swallowed hard when she felt him place his large hand on her head and begin to stroke her hair exactly as he had when they were children.
She felt furious that it was so pleasant, so soothing, that he knew she loved it.
"− my Rheanys −" He whispered tenderly. She pressed her lips together at his words, feeling a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.
The next morning she was awakened by a rustling noise and the sound of a quill scratching on parchment; she lifted her sleepy eyelids and saw his silhouette sitting behind her desk, bent over a letter he had apparently just written.
She felt strange at the thought that he was sitting in the exact place where she had spent years writing him messages that had never received a response.
She knew, however, that she now had the upper hand over him and that her word was an order to him.
She was not going to imitate his cold nature and not speak to him − they had to maintain a semblance of at least a warm relationship so that the image of their marriage, on which the whole agreement between the two parties was supposed to be based, did not begin to crack.
He lifted his gaze to her when she stood up, but they did not exchange a word between each other.
He did not know what to say.
Her maidservant walked in at her summons and bowed before her, bending her head humbly.
"− my Lady, will you have your morning meal before your travel? − your mother would like to speak with you before you leave for King's Landing −"
"− we will have a meal, but convey to my mother that there is no rush − my husband and I have decided to stay here for a few weeks as an expression of our sincere intentions − my husband is in the process of conveying this message to his brother − my uncle is in need of new garments, provide them for him without delay and bring them to my chamber −" She said calmly; her servant blinked, shocked and nodded, immediately disappearing behind the door.
Despite what she had learned and the rage she felt, she was pleased − the roles had been reversed and although her husband was not her prisoner, he was attached to her and was forced to stay in a place that disgusted him.
Good, she thought.
She wanted him to feel what she had felt during the month she had spent in King's Landing, imprisoned by his mother and grandfather.
"− I wish to spend this afternoon with my mother − if you so desire, I can show you in which chamber the library is located −" She said lightly, without looking at him however, taking a bite of bread spread with confiture. Her husband rolled his eyes, displeased.
"I have no intention of leaving your quarters." He replied indifferently.
She raised her eyebrows in amusement at his words.
"You are not my prisoner, uncle. You can walk and fly wherever you please. Holding someone by force is not in my nature." She murmured softly − her husband gave her one tired look.
She smiled at him in a way from which he swallowed hard and looked away, sighing heavily.
He knew she was enraged and he wasn't going to get in her way.
One of the aspects she enjoyed upon returning home was that she had finally retrieved all her robes; her uncle looked at her from the side, watching as her servants helped her put on a golden gown with long black sleeves that reached the ground.
"− make braids around my head − my husband adores it when I wear this hairstyle, is he not? −" She sneered, glancing at him over her shoulder. She only saw him roll his eyes, running his hand over his face, not saying a word.
He knew he had to endure everything she was throwing at him with humility if he didn't want to make his already bad situation worse.
She had no idea what he could do to regain her favour, her trust, the respect she had for him.
"− have a pleasant day, husband −" She threw over her shoulder, leaving him alone in the chamber, recognising that she did not care what he did.
As she stepped into her mother's quarters, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, putting down the quill she held in her hand, approaching her with surprise and uncertainty written on her face.
"− is it true? − are you planning to stay in Dragonstone? −" She asked in a trembling voice − she smiled and nodded. Her mother sighed in relief and walked over to her, embracing her tightly with her arms, snuggling her head into her neck.
They pulled away from each other after a moment, her hands gripping her cheeks, her thumbs stroking her skin as if she remembered a time when she was still a small child.
"− let's sit down −"
Being in her chamber again was like a dream to her − she couldn't believe she was sitting at the same table again, surrounded by the same furniture and bed with a red curtain, with the windows open to a view of the great sea.
"− does he treat you well? −" She asked suddenly, taking her hand in her own.
Her mother's question surprised her, but it also filled her heart with warmth and emotion.
"− I − yes − despite his harsh, difficult nature −"
"− so how did he let this happen? −" She asked, exposing a part of her wrist with her thumb, where her pale scar was clearly visible. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer her.
She wanted to tell her about the moon tea, but hesitated.
She didn't want her to think that her husband knew about it, that he was a worse person than she assumed.
It devastated her to think that she still had to tell half-truths.
"− I did it as an act of desperation − when he found out he wouldn't leave my side for weeks − he wouldn't let anyone but himself, Helaena and the maester cross the threshold of my quarters − he let me see Luke −" She muttered, looking at her at last. Her mother lowered her gaze, sighing quietly, tired and pale.
"− when Daemon passed on your words to me, I was furious − I didn't understand how you could do this to me −" She began and fell silent, closing her eyelids for a moment.
She felt an all-consuming shame at the thought that she had failed and disappointed her as a daughter.
"− forgive me − I would never question your rights if it were only about you − but you know very well that it is not −" She said cautiously − her mother lifted her gaze to her and nodded.
"− I know −"
They fell silent for a moment.
"− can I trust him? − your husband − and my brother −" Her mother asked coldly; she raised her gaze to her, surprised to feel that her lips involuntarily parted.
I don't know.
"− yes −" She muttered. "− he refused Maris Baratheon to take her as his wife − he himself proposed a form of compromise, and his elder brother supported him − Aegon is not a good man, but he cares about his children − he knows he will not leave them a secure, safe throne − just as you would not leave it to your sons −"
They said no more.
She spent some more time with her, just holding her hand, wordlessly trying to comfort her, thinking with weariness that she had to give up everything that was rightfully hers.
She finally decided to take pity on her husband and return to her chamber, not wanting to leave him alone for so long in a state of anxiety and uncertainty.
She felt her heart stop as she stepped into her quarters and saw no one inside − a cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of him leaving her.
He had returned to King's Landing without her.
She pressed her lips together, involuntarily feeling her heart begin to pound like mad with pain and sadness, her eyes glazed over with tears that she was ashamed of, thinking it shouldn't hurt so much, and yet it did.
She looked around the room quickly, looking for a letter or anything else that might say he had left her some word, but found nothing of the sort; she shuddered when she heard someone's dim voices in the distance and walked over to the window.
Her father and her uncle stood facing each other on the beach with their hands folded behind their backs, discussing something animatedly, a clear tension between them.
She felt regret towards herself, her body filled with an overwhelming relief that he had not left her, that he had not betrayed her again.
She thought the gods had been cruel, allowing her to love this man so deeply.
She blinked, startled, when she heard the door from her chamber open; she turned and saw the figure of her eldest brother, who only spoke up when they heard a loud clatter of wood behind them.
"− how could you do this? − choose him over us? −" He growled with regret, resentment and disappointment, his big brown eyes filled with anger and pain from which she felt a tightening in her throat. She furrowed her brow and shook her head.
"− we both know what the truth is − you can't rule with lies −" She replied, shrugging her shoulders; Jace moved towards her and she flinched all over, surprised at how pale he was, his lips tightened into a thin line − she had the impression he was trembling all over.
"− this was my inheritance − my throne − my crown − and you chose him, a man who did not write back to your letters for eight years, who humiliated you by calling you a bastard, and you shared a bed with him the first night you saw him, like some... −" He didn't finish and fell silent, the word he wanted to say stuck deep in his throat. She felt her lower lip tremble at his accusation, her eyebrows arching in pain and anger, her eyes red from tears of shame and humiliation.
"− say it − you've already spoken the word in your mind −" She sneered, lifting her chin higher, challenging him.
"− I won't call you an unworthy name −" He muttered lowly, and she laughed involuntarily at his words, shaking her head.
"− you think that makes you a better man? − look at this −" She hissed, lifting her hand up, exposing her wrist tugging impatiently at the material of her black sleeve. "− here is what I have done for you and for your crown − should I do it again? −"
She swallowed loudly, surprised when she noticed that something in her brother's expression had changed − Jace had grabbed her wrist and locked it between his fingers, but there was no aggression in the gesture, his thumb stroking her smooth, bare skin.
They stared at each other for a moment, breathing loudly; she felt that there was a kind of tension between them from which her heart was pounding like mad, but she wasn't sure what it was caused by; something in his gaze, in his brown, misty eyes and parted lips, made her feel hot.
"− do you love him more than our mother? − than Luke, than Joffrey? − than me? −" He asked in a trembling voice and she shook her head, not understanding what he meant.
"− Jace − it's a different kind of love − I −"
"− what kind? −" He hissed. "− the kind where you're constantly betrayed? − in which someone mocks your parentage? − locks you up like some prisoner? −"
Gods.
"− Jace −" She gasped, feeling that something in his questions, in his gaze, in what he wanted to hear from her had broken her down, her whole body began to quiver.
She shuddered as he approached her suddenly, as his free hand cupped her warm cheeks, as his forehead pressed against hers, his voice trembling as the words left his throat like a river.
"− I am your oldest brother − you were born to be mine − I would be good to you − you know I would −"
"− brother, what are you saying? − you had no objections when my mother decided to marry me to Ronnel −" She said disapprovingly, furrowing her brow in anger.
"− it was our mother's decision − how could I oppose her? −" He asked with a frown, as if he really believed what he was saying, a cold shiver ran through her body as his thumb ran over the soft skin of her cheek, hot with emotion.
"− you have never loved me − not in this way, we both know it well − you have always preferred to lie to yourself rather than face the truth − you do not look at me as the woman you desire, but as an inheritance that was taken from you −" She said with pain, feeling that what he was saying was not due to any deep feeling he had for her, but to his anger that she was not waiting for him docilely like his throne and his crown.
Her brother swallowed hard at her words, his hot, ragged breath enveloping the skin of her face.
"− when you were born, our mother told me that you might be my future wife − and I always, always saw you this way −"
"− you mocked me with Aegon −"
"− I craved his attention − he was older and impressed me − didn't you do anything you regretted as a child? −" He muttered wearily; she felt her heart stop at his words, a drop of cold sweat run down the back of her neck.
What was she supposed to answer him?
"− brother − I am married to another man − of my own free will −"
"− you are a traitor −"
"− how dare you −"
"− you are a traitor, but I still am unable to hate you −"
A squeal of terror stuck in her throat, her body froze completely as his lips pressed against hers in a greedy, hot, sticky kiss, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her cheeks, refusing to let her move away.
She cried out and pushed him away − before he could make any move her hand slapped him in the face so hard that he took a few steps back, clutching his red cheek, panting heavily.
"− get out −" She muttered, placing her hand over her heart, feeling as if it was about to burst out of her chest. "− get out of my chamber, brother − I'll forget this...conversation ever took place −"
Jace swallowed hard, horrified and ashamed, as if it had only now occurred to him what he had actually done.
What would Baela say if she saw this?
It seemed to him that they both couldn't believe he had done it − Jace had turned and walked out, leaving behind an open door and a complete blank in her mind.
She thought he wanted to take it out on their uncle, to take away something that belonged to him.
That she was just an object for him on which he had decided to vent.
She thought with pain that he, unlike her husband, had never tried to truly understand her.
When her uncle returned to her chamber they did not exchange a word − he seemed distracted and frustrated to her. He took one of the books from the bookshelf and sat by the fireplace, pretending to read. She lowered her gaze, playing with her fingers, thinking only of the fact that if she hid it from him, she would be just like him.
She didn't know for a long time how she should put it into words, but she figured he'd be furious either way.
"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −" She muttered, glancing at him fearfully − his eye opened wide, looking at her in disbelief, his jaw clenched in such a way that a shudder went through her.
He was silent for a moment, as if he had run out of words, which frightened her even more.
"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, closing the book with a loud slam, pulling himself up from his seat like an enraged bear.
"− he kissed me − grief and humiliation took his mind away − I − wait − gods −" She muttered, standing up as soon as he headed towards the door, which he opened with a loud clatter, running out into the corridor after him.
"− Aemond − no, no, no − stop! −" She hissed, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away from her, opening door after door until he found himself in the right room − Jace and Beala were sitting together at a table, apparently discussing something.
Her older brother rose from his seat and turned pale at the sight of them, horrified.
Her husband walked into his quarters with a wide, menacing smile, exactly the same one he bestowed on him and Luke when they saw him duelling with Criston Cole in King's Landing. He put his hands behind his back, shifting his body weight to one leg, cocking his head.
"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −"
"− Aemond −" She said warningly, but her uncle didn't listen to her, his healthy eye wide open, as if he was just waiting for this.
An opportunity for confrontation.
"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered amused, revealing his teeth in a wide grin full of feigned recognition.
"− Aemond, that's enough −"
"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela thundered.
She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she knew nothing.
She moved ahead and stood in front of her husband, looking at him with furrowed brows.
"− we are leaving −"
"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −"
"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"
"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He murmured in a voice filled with poison, from which a strong shiver ran along her back.
"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela hissed, furious that her betrothed simply looked at their uncle and remained silent, unable to get a word out.
"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He directed his words to her, to his sister, sadness and regret in his gaze, from which she involuntarily felt sympathy.
"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" Her husband hissed, gripping her cheeks in his hand − her voice stuck in her throat as his fleshy lips clung to hers in an aggressive, loud kiss, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat.
She sighed as he turned her back to him, pressing her brutally against his chest and grabbed her neck − she grasped his wrist as his free hand slid down her lower abdomen, his fingers dug into the material of her gown beneath which her womanhood lay, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.
"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out into her ear and she closed her eyes, feeling with horror and disbelief that her nipples had hardened, that her walls had clenched around nothing at his embarrassing words, feeling his finger tease what lay between her thighs despite her resistance.
"− u-uncle − stop −" She muttered, a moan stuck in her throat as she felt his erection behind her throb hard at her words, pushing against her buttocks, his fingertips dug deep into her folds hidden beneath the fabric.
Gods, he wanted her brother to watch this.
Baela looked at Jace as if she suddenly understood everything, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.
"− what did you do? −" She asked quietly, her older brother shook his head, all red, turning his face away, unable to look at it.
"− I −" He didn't finish; her uncle let her go immediately, panting loudly as she did when Daemon walked into the chamber, looking at them, then at Jace and his daughter.
He grinned.
"− what is the meaning of this...commotion? − hm? −" He asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement and mockery; she looked away and glanced at her uncle, shaking her head with furrowed brows, letting him know that he was to remain silent.
Her husband pressed his lips into a thin line, but did not utter a word.
They stood in awkward silence, with only the quiet fizzle of the blazing fire in the fireplace around them.
"Mmm." Her husband hummed and turned away, heading for the door. Not knowing what to do, she simply moved after him, casting only one apologetic glance at Baela.
When they finally returned to her chamber she let out a loud breath.
"− what was that supposed to mean? −" She asked in frustration, wondering what had possessed him.
She tried not to think about how embarrassingly wet she was now.
"− I don't know what you're referring to, wife − I've merely shown my nephew the depth of my understanding as to his desire −" He grinned, grabbing a jug full of wine, pouring himself a full cup of it.
She licked her lower lip in impatience, standing still and watching him − their gazes met as he raised the goblet to his lips and took a deep sip from it.
"− what − are you wet now? −" He sneered and she felt a hot wave of shame surge through her body − she felt like her cheeks had turned scarlet.
"− don't mock me − this was humiliating −" She growled, furrowing her brow, a smirk on his face that she didn't like.
"− if you say so, wife −" He muttered, approaching her lazily, playing with his cup in his hand, raising it to his lips again "− I, however, think you'd rather I did something else −"
He said and took another sip of wine, swallowing it loudly, towering over her with a look from which a pleasant shiver ran through her core.
"− I think you'd rather I fucked you good in front of him − for me to slip my fingers under your skirt and sink them into your leaking cunt −" He murmured, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, her walls swelling all over at his words − she felt a drop of her own wetness run down her thigh.
"− am I wrong? −" He asked, cocking his head curiously, taking another sip of wine from his goblet without taking his eyes off her.
She drew in a loud breath as he set his cup down on the table standing beside them with a loud clang of steel, taking a step towards her, his lips parted in desire.
Gods, no.
"− don't touch me −"
She saw him squint his eyes as he hesitated, his nostrils flaring in accelerated breath.
She knew he was hard.
She knew he wanted to soften her up.
"Mmm."
She immediately summoned her servant wishing that she would help her pull off her gown and let her hair down. After this, she lay down in bed, covering herself with thick furs, not looking at him or speaking a word to him. She swallowed hard when she heard him lie down right next to her and closed her eyelids when she felt his hot breath on her neck.
She thought he would try to touch her, embrace her and give her a reason to push him away, but he just lay behind her back, driving her crazy.
She waited for some time, listening to his quiet breathing, and decided that he was surely asleep by now; her hand slipped silently into the material of her nightgown, lifting it up. She swallowed quietly, tightening her lips as her fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood begging to be fulfilled, teasing and squeezing the bud between its fleshy folds.
She felt herself grow hot, her heart began to pound like mad at the indecent idea that these was his hand touching her in front of Jace, making him watch, wanting him to see what her fulfilment looked like.
She felt her walls clench greedily around nothing at the thought, her fingers teasing the spot between her puffy folds with circular, intense strokes.
Involuntarily, her hips began to rock softly to the rhythm of the flicks of her own fingers, she felt that she was wonderfully close to fulfilment.
"− what are you doing? −" She heard his low, cool voice and froze completely. She swallowed hard, sliding her hand, sticky with her own moisture from between her thighs, and remained silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.
"− go on −" He said in a hoarse, deep voice from which a shiver went down her spine. She heard a rustling behind her and then the sticky sound of skin slapping against skin − his hot breathing quickened, heavy and ragged. "− come on −"
She couldn't help herself; his fingers dug into her swollen folds again causing a wave of heat to pass through her body − she felt pleasant tickling sensations in her lips, fingertips and nipples. She moaned quietly when she felt his nose pressed against her hair, her hips involuntarily began to rock when she heard him begin to pant, the splats behind her getting louder, louder and louder.
"− fuck − you know I'd lick you good there − hm? −" He sighed and she felt her whole body quiver, her fingers teasing her puffy pearl all sticky from her own wetness.
"− mhgm −" She whined, tilting her head back, feeling his hot, uneven breath on her ear, his swollen, wet lips run down her neck.
"− are you leaking? − are you leaking at the thought of how good I would make you feel? − at the thought of your brother watching me fuck his little sister? −" He breathed out, and she moaned loudly as she felt a wonderful, relieved sensation at his words, her fulfilment shaking her like a hot, tickling wave.
Her slit pulsed all under her fingers as her own moisture leaked out of her, she shuddered when she felt his warm, rough tongue run across the bare skin of her neck, leaving a slick, wet mark on it.
"− fuck, Rheanys −" He muttered and after a moment he gasped − she felt something sticky and warm spurt out onto the back of her nightgown.
His seed.
Gods.
She closed her eyelids, trying to calm her breathing, furious at herself and her weakness.
"− let me embrace you −"
"− no −"
She heard him huff, sighing heavily, his face still sunk into her neck.
"− move away, uncle −"
"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"
"− your wife does not wish for this −"
"− sleep −"
She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, thinking with frustration that she hated him with all her heart.
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drenosa · 2 days
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One rare lazy day in Vacuo
Yang: *Bored out of her skull, reading a "Teen" magazine*
Weiss: *Enjoying her simple healthy breakfast salad*
Ruby: *Enjoying her not-so-healthy breakfast cereal*
Blake: *Catching up on her "literature"*
Yang: *Perks up on reading a topic* "Just how gay are you and your partner? Take this simple test and find out!"
Weiss: Please no, I just want to finish breakfast.
Yang: *Ignoring her, turning to Blake* Wanna take this test with me, Blakey?
Blake: *Closing her book, raising a skeptical eyebrow* You do know we have no need for such a test, right?
Yang: We don't?
Blake: We don't. And I can prove it. *Puts away her book and stands up* Stand up.
Yang: *Already standing, curious* Okay...
Blake: *Walks over, standing close to Yang, their height difference evident as she looks up at the blonde* Now, on your knees.
Yang: *Wide-eyed in shock* Uhm, wha-what?!
Blake: *Touches Yang's jawline* On. Your. Knees.
Yang: *Knees buckle, thudding on the floor* Okay...
Blake: *Now looking down at the blonde, eyes bright in delight and with a wicked grin* And that, my dear girl, that is how gay you are. Understood?
Yang: *In need of clean underwear* Yes, ma'am.
~~~~~~~~~~
Weiss: *In despair as she holds her hands in her head* I just want one, ONE, simple morning without my breakfast being ruined.
Ruby: *Still shoveling her cereal* Meh, I'm over it.
Weiss: Ugh... I should go join JNPER (Jaune, Nora, Oscar, Emerald, Ren). Surely they're... normal compared to whatever these two are doing all day.
Ruby: Probably best if you didn't.
Weiss: Pray tell, why?
Ruby: Oscar, and by extension Ozpin, is mostly busy with Theodore and other high-ranking huntsfolk for whatever business is most pressing but the rest... *Slightly cringes as she weighs whether or not she should tell*
Weiss: Ruby. Tell. Me!
Ruby: *Sighs, shrugs and spills the proverbial beans* They're probably banging right about now.
Weiss: ...
Ruby: Yeah... after our return from the Ever After there was this whole thing where Ren and Nora wanted- Needed more like- to reconnect and reconcile with Jaune. Emerald was just desperate looking for a place to belong. Anyway, long story short, they're likely banging right now.
Weiss: *Thudding her head on the table* My fucking friend group is a Gods damned mess!
Ruby: I'm still traumatized from walking in on them, but you don't hear me complain. Nora's way more flexible than you'd expect.
Weiss: *Whinging into the table surface* UUUUUGH...
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mimisempai · 3 days
Text
The embrace we deserve
Summary
Crowley is back, and he and the angel experience for the first time the reunion to which they are entitled and which they have denied each other all these years.
Notes
50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts
Kiss #47: A kiss paired with a tight hug, knocking the breath out of the person being hugged.
On Ao3
Rating G -  448 words
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Aziraphale glanced at the wall clock and chuckled to himself as it had been less than five minutes since he'd last checked the time.
Today was the day Crowley was due to return from his little trip as part of his job at the planetarium, and he wasn't due to arrive for a few hours in the late afternoon, so the Angel called himself an idiot for being so impatient. 
The three days had passed rather quickly, and Nina, Maggie and Muriel had had something to do with it. He suspected that the owner of the coffee shop had told the other two about his condition after Crowley's departure, and every day they had come to keep him company in one way or another, Maggie taking him to the record shop to suggest new musical treasures, Nina arriving every day with a new pastry, and Muriel never ceasing to ask him questions and get him to discuss his current readings.
Aziraphale had to admit that it touched him deeply to know that he and Crowley now had this little group of friends, almost a family, as part of their lives.
He said aloud, "Come on, you've made it three days, you can wait a few more hours, can't you?"
"Angel, I've barely been gone three days and you're talking to yourself?"
Aziraphale turned sharply towards the bookshop door and shouted, "Crowley!"
Then he ran to him and wrapped his arms around the demon in a tight embrace, pressing his lips to his.
After a few seconds, Crowley patted him on the back, causing him to loosen his arms without letting go, and the demon said, panting slightly, "Oh dear, I don't mind such fervour, but just let me breathe."
Aziraphale bit his lip and, as he tried to pull away, replied sheepishly, "Sorry, I-" 
But the demon would have none of it, and wrapping his arms around the angel's neck, he said softly, "Don't apologize, I was just so surprised that I really didn't have time to breathe."
He pressed a light kiss to the angel's lips, and when he pulled away, the angel asked, his sheepish expression now absolutely delighted, "How come you're here already? You weren't supposed to arrive until this late afternoon."
Crowley planted another kiss on the angel's smile and simply replied, "I missed you too much."
Aziraphale lifted his hand and rested it on the demon's cheek, saying, "I missed you too. A lot."
Then he buried his face in the demon's neck as the demon held him close, the two of them basking in the contentment of being together again. 
Granting each other the embrace they had been denied all these years. 
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable kisses series : here
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2
Part 1 Story 1-99
Part 2 Story 100-?
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thedrarrylibrarian · 19 hours
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When I first started Happy Hour, @crazybutgood made me the cutest origami mug that resembles the foamy butterbeer in my Happy Hour image. I had been so nervous to try something new and write recs instead of just do lists and seeing that someone had enjoyed my rec enough to sit and fold paper into art was really touching to me. Since then, our whole fandom has been privileged to enjoy this unique and creative art that @crazybutgood has contributed. It's a joy to invite her to Happy Hour to give her own rec.
Thank you to @thedrarrylibrarian for this opportunity and for thinking of me!
The fic I’d like to rec is A Christmas Miracle by @sleepstxtic (E, 39k)
Draco is a world-renowned Magi-Diagnostician and Harry is a Cursebreaking Healer, both working in St. Mungo's. They're not- quite-friends, not-quite-lovers, who argue at work and have sex on the weekends. And they're both fine with it, thank you very much. But when a mysterious attack in the hospital leaves Draco trapped in a coma, Harry must do all he can to save him. All the while, an inexplicable, deadly, children's illness is spreading through wizarding London. Oh, and there's some Time Magic thrown into the mix.
Or
A Christmas Carol with a Drarry twist.
Though this 25 Days of Drarry fic is set during Christmas, it’s a perfect read for any season. @sleepstxtic (Kat) uses her own wonderful take on A Christmas Carol to weave together a gripping medical thriller with Draco racing against time to save Teddy, after himself going on a journey of self-reflection as he travels through time with his Ghosts of Christmas. The scenes Kat writes for the time-travel are as emotional and gripping as the suspenseful case in the present, as Draco, moved by his eye-opening experience, navigates his duty – and expressing his feelings for Harry. The characters’ (including great OCs) dynamics, personalities – especially Draco’s growth – and dialogues are deliberate, on point, and a delight to read. Plus, Kat gives an especially wonderful snark and demeanour to Draco that are not only reminiscent of her inspiration of House M.D., but is also uniquely him. Of course, Harry too has his own sassy moments thrown in with his softness towards Draco.
Why I especially rec this fic (apart from Kat's brilliant writing that I always love) is that by December 2023, I had been on-and-off and down about a lot of things, including fandom. Though I wasn't sure where I stood then, one thing I knew was that I could always count on Kat’s amazing stories cheering me up. This one came at a time when I appreciated anything to rely on as an escape and a treat, and adding it to my list of subscriptions to daily updating fics last winter was a joy. The anticipation and thrill of following a daily WIP is something else; I eagerly read as the story unfolded each day, especially mulling over what might happen next after each cliffhanger, which Kat is infuriatingly good at. Her story is a wonderful unique blend of concepts and feelings of despair, fear, hope, and love, gelling into a plot that'll definitely have you hooked. Whether you choose to savour a chapter a day in your free time, or treat yourself to a late-night binge, I hope you enjoy unravelling the mysteries of the puzzling illness, what happened to Draco, and his and Harry’s future.
❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️
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punks-never-die205 · 2 days
Note
Many people prefer Law over Kid viewing him as more attractive 🥴. What makes Kid in my eyes much more attractive is his passion and temper. While Law is kinda cold and distant with a low sexdrive Kid is very loving, affectionate and likes to show it. He enjoys showing his emotions through his body and sexuality. This makes him incredibly hot in my eyes 🔥🔥🔥
Those are very interesting head canons for those two characters \o/
I think one of the best parts about One Piece is that the cast is so vast there is always *someone* a person can connect with - in a lot of different ways too!
The other great part is that Oda’s continued insistence to avoid much canon romance is that it makes a MASSIVE playground for everyone to have fun in.
Sex god Eustass and awkward, easily flustered Eustass are both valid (and both plausible within the same head canon, people are complex like that!)
Awkward, nerd Law who can’t game his way out of a wet paper bag isn’t necessarily exclusive from dom Law who has your face buried in the mattress singing his praises like he’s your savior and this submarine is church.
But they can be \o/
I love no rizz nerd Law who talks about his figurines for three hours before your first kiss, and I love quiet and calculating Law who is walking you into his room so easily you think it was all your game. >.>
I love awkward virgin Kid, cumming in his pants when he makes you moan, promising he has stamina to keep going, and the King of Kink Kid who has you speaking in tongues before he’s even started prepping you.
In the end I just want peeps to enjoy their head canons and stories and day dreams without feeling like everyone has to agree with them for it to be valid. Variety is the delight of living and creating \o/
So delight in it and keep creating 🥰❤️😍
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hpowellsmith · 2 days
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swept up turns 10 today!
swept up is a short Twine about blood, violent girls, and the desert.
It takes a matter of minutes to play, but it has a couple of different endings and a number of branches and callbacks. I loved making it: I will always be an easy sell for this kind of thing* and it was fun to do it myself.
I've not written anything as stark/stylised as this since, but I did enjoy using the one-word choice sets again in Heretic Dreams: I like the effect a lot.
It was the first writing I was ever paid for - the following year, sub-Q magazine got in touch asking about reprinting Aquarium but it was too large for them to afford, so I sent swept up in the hopes that it would be accepted. And to my delight, it was! Unfortunately I've misplaced the lovely cover art they made for it, and the magazine site's sadly gone now, but the original game is still up on itch.io.
This had a massive ripple effect: knowing that people were interested in paying for my work led directly to my writing career now. swept up has even been used as teaching materials in at least one college course, which is the wildest thing I've ever heard.
I certainly didn't know any of that when I made this, though - it was very fast and fun to make, and I mostly just shared it with my friends. But it made me realise that my instinct was to do this in an interactive medium rather than a short story or poem, which I hadn't considered so much before playing around with Twine. I remain very fond of it.
*girls being murderous. Bad consequences. Bite-or-make-out feelings. Deserts.
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kiwiplaetzchen · 20 days
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"We do so adore restricted areas, don't we?"
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"We shouldn't go in there. Which is exactly why we should. Now take heed. There's a chance we could get caught."
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ennaih · 5 months
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Every Film I Watch In 2023:
236. Krampus (2015)
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suffarustuffaru · 8 months
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Have you read one fanfic on AO3 titled Re:Incarnated? One of the most interesting and new aspects of this story for me was Subaru being reborn as a half-elf by Satella. I bet no one has ever thought and acted on that idea before, but there are some questions that bother me, for example, in the canon series there are moments where Subaru relies on Earth's modern technology and knowledge to solve difficult problems, Subaru becomes a half-elf in the world of Rezero and that means that he forgets about his previous life on Earth in Japan, and then when faced with the same dilemma How should Subaru solve it? But I feel these questions should go wait for the original author's update to get answered.
I have to say that fic opened a new door for my inspiration, and I also started to think about creating my own Subaru's elf or half-elf AU, and even imagined a crossover with Lord of the Rings (after all, there's a ton of Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter crossover fics on AO3 and fanfiction) Like one day Subaru is for whatever reason transported to Middle-earth by Satella accidentally and experienced something there, and then how he was found and adopted by the elves of Middle-earth, I think it would be very interesting how the elves of Middle-earth were surprised to find out that elves existed in the Otherworld, Subaru looks similar to them but differs in a few places,and then how Subaru got along with the elves of Middle-earth, and how he explored his own existence and self-worth,how would it be different than the canon series (My half-elf Subaru's character isn't too far off from the canon) Sorry I'm getting a bit carried away, I'm an incorrigible and extreme fan of crossover tropes, I hope you don't mind too much!
yoo sorry i took so long to reply to this ask but please know im delighted to see any asks in my inbox and pfft its interesting hearing about what people are thinking + what they find interesting themselves!!!
as for re:incarnated - i read a chapter or two AGES ago, so i really dont remember much of the fic sadly T^T but ill consider possibly going back to it and reading through it!!! i have a very long to read list though so ill see pfft. and yeah i think that fic was def like. one of if not the first fic to have like half elf subaru as an idea be explored and it also shows a Different method of the isekai trope (being reincarnated!!!) which is fun i think!! plus like. putting "re:" in fic titles is EXTREMELY extremely common in this fandom which i suppose makes sense given. the source material is called rezero. granted most of the time (this is just my opinion btw and i mean no harm by it HAH), to me a lot of fics with "re:" in the title dont justify why the "re:" is actually there. "Re:Incarnated" though is an EXTREMELY good use of the "re" imo. i love the pun <3
yeah as for the fic material itself - i do think its interesting to like change small bits of characters. not in the sense that youre changing like the Core of who they are but i Like seeing experimentations with characters to see like small differences. which is why i love aus (such as the literal canon aus we get in the form of the What Ifs and such!!). if that makes sense. that probably makes more sense in my head HAH anyway!! i always feel like changing a characters backstory is SO HARD to pull off without completely changing a character bc it shapes them a lot. but half elf subaru is definitely an idea that can be done in an interesting way imo and im curious to see how re:incarnated handled that. i know ive considered like emisuba roleswaps myself where emilia was isekaied from earth and subarus a half elf which was kind of like re:incarnated but also not like re:incarnated bc subaru had a similar backstory still but now with a fantasy world background (and vice versa for emilia) aljdfdlsjf. but yeah like i like seeing people experiment with these characters and make fun aus!!! and for me personally its hard for me to find ones i like in this fandom + this fandom doesnt do all the usual fic-isms (like there is next to zero soulmate aus for example HAH) so. interesting i suppose!!
as for your own half elf subaru au - im delighted that you were inspired by re:incarnated and are having fun with your own au as well!! :D while i basically know next to nothing about lord of the rings, your idea definitely sounds interesting, though i dont usually read crossovers that arent fusion aus - but i REALLY love the idea of like two different elf species from two different worlds going ??? at each other HAH thats fun stuff!! and i definitely like when despite all the AU things going on, characters like subaru arent too far off from canon in all the big important ways (ie his whole personality) bc for me, its like - theres a reason why we love these characters and i love trying to capture the heart of who they are even with au things, you know? :o but hah yeah ive made my own crossovers though in private (not to post, just for fun pfft) and i hope you keep having fun about your own half elf subaru au bc it sounds very neat <3 ty for sharing anon!! :D
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warlordfelwinter · 4 months
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there is just So Much worldbuilding going on in palia
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vegaseatsass · 3 months
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So one of my favorite underrated elements of Gap was just how much damn fun the group of friends is. Raucous mean girls who turn their bullying to good when they become the lesbian village it takes to raise a Sam. I never finished Secret Crush On You but the friends groups in that were also the stars of what I saw of the show. So I'm really really really happy Idolfactory is continuing this trend in The Sign! The groupchat cannot shut UP about Yai. Laura called him revolutionary: the first straight man hag. We cannot get enough.
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kyolypso · 2 months
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NEW GREAT PRETENDER MOVIE IS SO GOOD BTW.
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mimisempai · 16 hours
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You're making my day better
Summary
There's nothing like a cup of coffee and a loving embrace to take the sting out of a nightmare, and the florist won't disagree. Especially when it's the bookseller who does the coffee and the hugging.
Notes
I just missed my florist and bookseller and wanted them to have a little moment of domestic bliss.
On Ao3
Rating G -  534 words
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It was one of those mornings.
When the nightmare clung to Crowley like a leech.
When he felt its shadow hovering over his head.
He reached the kitchen where Aziraphale was finishing the coffee, the smell pleasantly tingling his nose.
He couldn't hold back a yawn, then scratched his head before saying in a still sleepy voice, "Good morning, my angel."
He planted a kiss on Aziraphale's hair as he walked by and jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter.
Aziraphale looked at him with a fond expression and replied, "Good morning, sweetheart.  I'm surprised you're up, considering it's your day off. You could have slept longer. "
Crowley shook his head and replied monosyllabically, "Nightmare...couldn't sleep."
Aziraphale's expression turned compassionate as he poured coffee into two cups before turning to his lover and handing him one. The florist took it gratefully, inhaling its scent with an expression of delight.
He set the cup down beside him and took the bookseller's hand, pulling him between his legs.  Aziraphale, smiling with amusement, let the florist manhandle him without resistance until he was in the right place, with his back to him.
The bookseller leaned against Crowley, who wrapped his arms and legs around him, resting his chin on his lover's shoulder.
Aziraphale took a sip of coffee and, after humming contentedly, asked Crowley quietly, "Aren't you drinking your coffee?"
Crowley hummed against Aziraphale's ear, "I need you now, not coffee, at least not right now. Can I stay like this for a while?"
Aziraphale nodded and replied softly, "Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you need."
They stayed like that for a few moments in silence, Aziraphale slowly sipping his coffee while Crowley nestled against him.
After a moment, the florist leaned his head forward on Aziraphale's shoulder and said softly, "I could use a sip now."
Aziraphale chuckled and brought his own cup to Crowley's mouth, who took a sip before saying, a playful smile on his lips, "It's like an indirect kiss."
Aziraphale laughed softly and replied, "It's totally cheesy."
Crowley chuckled into his neck, fully aware of the shiver he was causing in his lover, before replying in a laughing tone, "I know you like it, so don't pretend you don't.... That's why I'm going to tell you something cheesier. You know I love coffee, and that I love you even more. But do you know why?"
Aziraphale shook his head, curious to see what nonsense Crowley would come up with.
"Coffee makes my day bearable, but you make it enjoyable." 
Crowley's propensity for saying profound things when Aziraphale least expected it never ceased to amaze him, and above all left him once again speechless and blushing.
Crowley, knowing this, whispered in his ear, "See? I knew you'd like it. I knew you'd like my cheesiness, my sweet angel."
Aziraphale didn't try to deny it because it was true, so he set the cup down on the counter and turned before taking his lover's face between his hands and saying softly, "I still prefer a direct kiss."
Then he gently pressed his lips to the florist's and Crowley felt the last remnants of his nightmare slowly fade away in the soft, coffee-flavored embrace.
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
The florist and the booksellers series : here
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
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chadsuke · 10 months
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Books Read in 2023:
Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 3 by Ryoko Kui (2016)
Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 4 by Ryoko Kui (2017)
She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat Vol. 2 by Sakaomi Yuzaki (2021)
Crossplay Love: Otaku x Punk Vol. 3 by Toru (2023)
I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 1 by Aonoshimo, Inori, & Hanagata (2020)
I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 2 by Aonoshimo, Inori, & Hanagata (2021)
I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 3 by Aonoshimo, Inori, & Hanagata (2021)
I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 4 by Aonoshimo, Inori, & Hanagata (2022)
Midnight Radio by Iolanda Zanfardino (2019)
[ID: Covers of aforementioned books. End ID.]
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the-darklings · 2 years
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hii love! since u are so open and kind to answer any questions regarded to tibyim, i have one! feels like it was kinda obvious, but what was meant to be said in this part?
On your lengthy trek back to Hob’s flat, he asks, “Have you ever…?”
A gnawing pain ricochets through your chest. “Yeah.”
Hob appears crushed at your strangled admission, his voice gentle and kind, “Okay.”
hope this ask will reach u, since i bet u get quite a lot of them!! thank u so much and good good luck and lots of adoration<3
Pretty sure at least 1/4 of the messages I've gotten since part 9 dropped have all been about this moment.
And all I will say about it is: it's purposeful. Purposeful in its fragmented shortness. Purposeful in the very potent heaviness emitting from essentially three lines in over 8k chapter. I know what I intended to say with it (and I think certain people reading it will be able to as well, just based on emotions portrayed here alone), but I like to leave it up to reader interpretation.
In a similar manner, I have never outlined (or plan outline) the exacts of why Wanderer was cursed. You will get more information on the curse, and the individuals involved, but the exact details I like to leave up to you. That's mainly because I love the idea of each reader coming up with their own explanations, meaning that each version of Wanderer is just slightly different and unique. Very fitting to the actual character and the lore surrounding them.
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