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fanaticsnail · 6 days

Note

This is something I thought of but it suits the men you like more than it does mine

Imagine an au or smth in which your fave plays the cello

Now imagine y/n oc sitting on his lap, he's choking them while using a toy on them and in that position it's almost like he's playing y/n like they're a cello

I think you could do this prompt justice better than I ever could so I hope you enjoy it ✨️

Cellist Kid

Okay, but hear me out. Cellist Kid.

Cellist. Kid.

Thoughts below the cut.

Synopsis: your academic rival and you do not get along. You find his boorish intensity revolting, and he finds your attitude standoffish. As your conductor decides to pair you together to practice, tempers flare and passion ignites.

Themes: afab!reader x Kid, cellist!kid x flautist!reader, choking, Kid has both hands, kissing swearing, college AU, NSFW, 18+, smut, P in V sex, drabble length, creampie, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, hate sex.

College AU with Eustass Kid wanting to practice playing electric bass, but instead joins an orchestral ensemble at his college for extra credit. They don't play metal, punk, or rock: but he absolutely has a soft spot for movie soundtracks that use heavy bass: game of thrones, lord of the rings, Narnia, all of the songs of his childhood.

He decides the closest thing to a bass is a cello. It takes him a while to understand how to use a bow, but he picks it up in no time. He enjoys this time he spends playing music, it's a way he gets to unwind and hone in on his musicality.

The only hiccup in this perfect symphony is you. Not your playing, but your attitude. You loathe him, and he despises you.

You're a flautist who often gets the lead line for the pieces because you're extremely talented and dedicated to your craft. You hang shit on Kid for joining a failing Warhammer painting group with his best friend, MSK - and he taunts you just as much for joining a Dungeons & Dragons group being ran by a DM named Usopp, an English literature major who enjoys spinning roleplaying tales.

But the more you play music together, the more the conductor of the band decides to place you two together in a more permanent way. You're perfect for each other, in your conductors opinion. The deep rattle of the bass clef played by Kid harmonises perfectly with the treble you produce with your fluttery breath and nimble fingers.

You've been aggressively quippy with each other for a few months now, the rest of the orchestra rolling their eyes every time you have a fued in front of them. Your conductor decides to place the two of you together to sort it out between you.

Now that you're in an empty classroom together, all lecturers gone for the night, the tension draws thick between you. Your snarl draws his heckles up, his growl causes your skin to ignite with disdain at him.

"What the hell is your problem with me, cellist?" You finally curse at him, acknowledging his presence for the first time in twenty minutes. He halts tuning his pegs and places his broad bow in the case at his feet.

"Could say the same for you, flooty," he spat back, his nose scrunching at you while reaching for his amber rosin.

"I hate you," you snarl at him.

"I hate you," he barked at you in response.

"I hate you first," your body moved against its will, placing your flute carefully within the hard case beside you and stomped towards him.

"I hate you second," he growls in return, the gruff grumble igniting flames in his chest as he casts aside his borrowed cello in its stand.

"What does that even matter?" you question him, cocking your head to the side and furrowing your brows, "I could wring your neck and scream at you for how much I despise you!"

"Would be a better sound than your fucking playing, that's for sure!" he draws himself closer to you, his much taller frame towering over yours.

You see red, reaching up and circling his neck with your hands. You use all your might to shove him down onto the chair he was formerly sat atop and accidentally fall on top of him. Your thighs frame his, your crotch perfectly in line with his.

This small stumble causes you to falter in your fury. Shock writes itself over your face as you notice a soft blush dust the cheeks of your academic rival beneath you. From this new position, you notice the warm hue in his hazel eyes: the tint almost rust-coloured in the pale lighting.

You both glance down to the join of your bodies in synchrony before glancing back up at each other's shocked faces.

It all happens in an instant: clothes cast aside and discarded on the floor, lips gnashing, biting and marking each other beneath your rough oscillations. You're in his lap, facing away from him with his girthy cock plunging deep within your slick cunt with a brutal rapidity.

His left hand circles your throat, causing your head to lull against his left shoulder. His right hand is plunged deep between your legs and pinches, circles and grinds against your clit as he thrusts his cock deep within you.

As his right digits begin tapping your clit in rhythmic patterns, the fingers of his left hand tighten and loosen against your flesh. The stampeding ecstacy draws ever nearer, both of your voices picking up in the corners as his knob bullies and batters your cervix with deep thrusts.

As your abdomen begins to tighten it's woven band of ecstacy, Kid's huffed breath pants out with more intentional rapidity. His thighs shudder beneath you, his body giving into the carnal urge to fuck the attitude and sass out of you with each cruel thrust.

His left hand breaks away from your neck circling in front of your chest and anchoring his body against yours to chase his climax within you. His momentum staggers as you felt his cock twitch within your plush walls.

"I-I-..." Kid stutters through his warning, mewling your name in a panted whine, "...-I'm gonna-... fuck. You feel so fucking good. I'm gon-... -I'm c-cumming."

As he whines through his panted confession, your body immediately was ushered into your bliss alongside his own. Lights danced behind your eyes as your body betrayed your hatred for him and transported your senses to become overwhelmed with bliss.

You cried his name, head lying fully back and at his mercy as he continued to bully his thick cock deep within you. Ribbons of hot, sticky cum shot deep within you, the rippling backsplash causing the translucent fluid to leak from your entrance and pool down your spread legs and onto his thighs.

As you rode through your mutual bliss, Kid offers you an apology for his prior insults.

"I-... -I don't think you're a shit flute-player," he admits, his forehead meeting with the back of your neck, "I actually think you're quite talented."

"You are too," you confess, nuzzling the back of your head against his, "But you're still an asshole."

Notes: I'm not sure if cellist Kid is a vibe or not, but it was my initial thoughts. A little bit of enemies to lovers never hurt. I could also see Law as a cellist, but Kid was screaming at me. I have had a drink, and this was done in about 20 minutes. Apologies for grammar mistakes!

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff

#one piece #x reader #eustass kid #captain eustass kid #one piece eustass #kid x reader #eustass kid smut #eustass x reader #op kid x reader

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prpfs · 10 days

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✩ 🍐 ₊.🐚⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

hello!

I’m relatively new to using tumblr as a site to find roleplayers as I was an avid writer for many years on wattpad – I’ve since then taken a break for a few years due to drama and loss of interest ;-; before considering me for anything feel free to check out my AO3 account to see my writing style to see if I suit your writing style and such! 🤗

> https://archiveofourown.org/users/daiysu/profile <

I’m a literate/novella roleplayer on discord that is open to fandom/fandomless prompts and settings. If you have a certain setting that I am not familiar with, I will research it thoroughly and do my best! Also, I can adjust to your paragraph length and reply time if it is helpful! I am fairly quick with responses, but not rapid as I am quite busy with my work and other means – within a day I can deliver five lengthy responses minimum, but I’m a night owl so…we’ll see.

I have my own range of oc’s that I can adjust to your needs and the story setting! I’m looking for partners that are active ooc also, I want to make friends and new connections here; I want to create a positive and safe experience for us! This is meant to be fun! Please communicate your boundaries to me, as well 🤍

I am open to M/M, F/F, M/F, and M/X, F/X pairings: I would love to get into gritty, dark, and unsettling themes as I think it adds spice to the story, and I am also a sucker for fluff and soft themes too! I will do oc x character, and character x character, oc x oc can be discussed depending on the fandom :) Here are some fandoms that I’m interested in:

Stranger Things.

All for the game.

Dark Academia literature.

Peaky Blinders.

Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon.

Southpark.

Marvel.

DC.

The Walking Dead.

Pathologic.

The Lord of the Rings.

The Grishaverse.

The Hunger Games.

My Hero Academia.

The Magnus Archives.

Sherlock.

Red Dead Redemption.

Shameless.

And many more!

I’m really into non-fandom roleplays too, of which we could possibly flesh out together! Here are some themes I am interested in:

Bands, Detectives, Witches/Wizards, Vampires, Werewolves, Prisoners, Mystery, Hurt/Comfort, Cowboys, Ancient periods, Cyperpunk, Steampunk, Noir, Pirates, General historical period roleplays, Sexuality, Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, Realistic, Highschool settings, 80s/70s/90s/00s, Modern, Supernatural, Horror, Comedy, Smut, Drama, Violence, WW2, WW1, Mafia, Medieval, Anime settings, Graphic content, Angst, Religious themes, Domestic settings, Body horror, Guns/Knives/Torture/Injury/Blood, Trauma, Found family, Tropes, Dead dove, Paranormal, Slice of life, etc!

I’m an 18+ (F) roleplayer so please interact if you are above 18! Adult themes will occur, please no minors!

Please interact if interested! (ps I’m desperate 🥹) 🤍

like or dm

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glorious-sunset · 2 months

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LBFAD is the most inspiring series I have ever watched and here is why…

Although Love Between Fairy and Devil (LBFAD) only caught my eye on Netflix in December 2023, I’m so glad it did and that I didn’t miss out on this stunning and thought-provoking masterpiece. It is the most inspiring series I have ever watched for many reasons. Aesthetically, I found the beautiful 4K production quality as enjoyable as high-budget productions such as Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones. I frequently felt the need to pause and admire the well-designed sets, and exquisitely detailed costumes of even minor characters. The acting is superb across the board, and the leads act and respond very naturally to each other. The long hair of male characters is especially well-done, falling naturally with subtle highlights and looks real. All these details breathe life into this fantasy world and make it very realistic.

Every line of each song from the phenomenal OST is brimming with hidden meanings related to the series, adding lots of additional context! The artwork created for the opening and ending themes is also full of meaning (minor spoilers ahead). Take, for example, the last picture where the OTP are sitting on a boat in the Oblivion River, the junction between their two tribes, the male lead has removed his crown and hence his responsibilities at least for the moment, and they are watching the sunrise together for the rest of eternity after the close of the series (sigh!)

Every single character of note in the series goes through profound character growth, the only exception being the abstract ultimate villain Taisui. Even the secondary villains and dictator of Shuiyuntian have grown and changed their perceptions by the end. It made me believe that anyone is capable of opening their minds and bettering themselves. Both lead and side characters are repeatedly faced with overwhelmingly bleak choices and heartbreaking challenges, especially in the last ten episodes. Yet every time, they show courage, sacrifice and selfless love that is amazing and very inspiring.

It is rare to find this kind of poignance in any production. I used to find Game of Thrones inspiring due to Daenerys freeing the world of slavery…until Season 8 happened. LBFAD tops Game of Thrones in this regard by freeing two distinct realms from conflict. The actions of the OTP break through a hundred millenia of mutual hatred and relentless conflict between their people with no end in sight, to create a new dawn of lasting peace. LBFAD reminds me of Lord of the Rings in terms of its cinematographic beauty and themes of never losing hope and prevailing over overwhelming odds. However, the stronger focus of LBFAD on the lead couple’s development and on creating multidimensional villains and side characters made it, for me, more engaging to watch.

The world-building and depth of characters has many layers in LBFAD, to the extent that much of the context was clear to me only in retrospect on rewatching the series and on deep reflection. The fast pace of the series also means that a lot of action occurs off-screen in between scenes. There are no filler scenes, there is no room for them. Every scene adds new plot twists and depth to characters, making the series highly addictive.

I am not a native mandarin speaker, and came to realise how beautiful the language is only on encountering LBFAD and its OST. It inspired me to learn mandarin, which makes rewatching the series highly enjoyable as I am able to pick up new nuances. I’m embarrassed to be so late to watch LBFAD after its release in 2022, but have thoroughly enjoyed the posts on Tumblr from fellow fans, including episode analyses, enthralling artwork and links to fanfiction. It has encouraged me to post on Tumblr myself. I have started to post my reflections on each episode while rewatching them, translations and overviews. I am thrilled to be a part of this wonderful community!

Links to some of my other LBFAD articles:

Character Names in LBFAD - Meaning and Significance

Location Names in LBFAD - Meaning and Significance

Here is a link to my episode 1 review (contains spoilers). All of my LBFAD articles and episode reviews can be viewed with the tag #lbfad reflections (hyperlinked) and the table of contents to these is here.

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 1 year

Text

chapter ix - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,000+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

For being one of the strongest High Fae currently alive, Feyre was still huffing quite a lot up the steep hill.

Y/N had tried to sneak out to go on another one of her hikes. The sneaking was due to her knowing no one would let her go alone after what happened with Cassian and Nyx. But that was exactly why she wanted to go alone: so no one else could be put in danger.

However, Feyre had been visiting the House of Wind, on the hunt for her sister, when she crossed paths with Y/N.

The High Lady had insisted on joining Y/N for her hike, choosing a very different trail and a completely different woods than where she had been attacked.

“You alright?” Y/N asked with a teasing tone.

Feyre glared at her. “I understand the benefits and joy of a hike. But why are we sprinting?”

Y/N shrugged. “Part fresh air, part endurance training.”

“I used to hunt in the woods, back in the mortal lands. Started when I was just a child. But I was slow and quiet.”

“I see,” Y/N took in the bit of information. Feyre didn’t talk much about her time as a mortal. It didn’t seem like a taboo subject. Perhaps her happiness with the present made her dwell on the past very little. “Hunting is quite different than hiking.”

Then Y/N paused and smirked at the High Lady over her shoulder and teased, “Maybe you should spend some time training with the Valkyries…”

Feyre laughed, but shook her head. “That is Nesta’s domain, her sisterhood. I dare not intrude on it. I train still, just not with them.”

For some reason, the response triggered Y/N to think about the third Archeron sister. She knew the least of Elain, but enough to know she was not a warrior. Y/N had never seen the middle sister train, and rarely did she ever leave the River House.

“I met Lucien the other day,” Y/N blurted out.

It was enough for Feyre to stop in her tracks.

Feyre gave a short nod. “Rhysand said Azriel mentioned him stopping by your shop.”

Y/N continued hiking, but slowed down the pace to make it easier for them to converse. “I did not realize Elain had a…mate.”

“We once called ourselves friends, Lucien and I. But I’m not sure what we are anymore. I should say I feel like I’m stuck between the two of them. But Lucien rarely has the courage to ask me about Elain. And my sister likes to pretend Lucien doesn’t exist.”

Y/N was silent for a moment, trying to tread the topic carefully, but still wanting her curiosities answered. “I just thought…from what I know of mates – you and Rhys, Nesta and Cassian…”

Feyre gave her a sympathetic look. “Mating bonds are…peculiar things. To some, they create soulmates.”

“Like you and Rhys.”

Feyre nodded. “But to others, it’s just two puzzle pieces finally being put together. Nothing more – no connection, not emotions. Bonds not always equate to love. Sometimes it’s the Cauldron telling us that two people would simply create superior offspring.”

“You make it sound so…cold.”

Feyre nodded again. “My sister…she would have never chosen the life she’s been given. Elain thought she was in love – and perhaps she was. But she was turned fae against her will. And the next moment: a stranger confessed that they were bond together – all while she still wore her engagement ring to a mortal, who hated what she became.”

Poor Elain, Y/N thought. “Is he so horrible that she won’t even give him a chance?”

“Lucien is not horrible. He has made great mistakes…but…he is a good male.”

Y/N processed that. The wind had told her of his lost lover, of being forced to watch her get murdered by his family and court. How could Eris have watched such a thing and not intervened? But the wind did confess that it was Eris who helped his youngest brother escape Autumn Court and seek sanctuary in Spring Court.

“He seemed surprised that Eris knew me, that he had saved me and brought me here.”

Feyre’s body stiffened at the slight change of subject.

“Does he not know that Eris wishes to take the throne from their father?”

Feyre took in a slow breath. “It is best that you do not speak of Eris’ plans for his court.”

“Does he know that Lucien is not his father’s son? Is he not the bastard child of Helion Spellcleaver?”

Y/N realized by the High Lady’s reaction that she just spoke an even more dangerous piece of information.

It wouldn’t be the first time the winds had gotten her in trouble with sharing such secrets.

“Y/N,” Feyre’s voice was so serious that it caused a chill to go down Y/N’s spine. “You must never speak of that to anyone.”

“Lucien does not know,” Y/N whispered in realization.

“No. And I do not believe Helion knows either,” Feyre added. “The Lady of Autumn has kept her son’s secret close to her heart – to keep him alive, I imagine.”

Y/N knows of Lucien’s true parentage, Feyre spoke to Rhysand through their minds.

But Rhysand only seemed amused, Who knew the winds could be so troublesome?

She seems rather curious about Elain and Lucien’s bond, Feyre added. Should we tell her? She deserves to know about Eris.

We cannot, Rhys answered immediately. We promised him we wouldn’t.

Feyre grew frustrated in her mates head, She will be just as angry as I was. But furthermore, she will be confused. She will not understand it like I had. He is not her kind.

He does not wish for her to know. Beron is still a risk to her. It is not our place, Feyre darling.

Feyre cut off the connection, further proving her growing frustration.

“You alright?” Y/N asked.

Feyre just nodded. “Damn your hikes.”

–––––

A week later, Y/N was cleaning around her shop. She was gaining more and more customers to her surprise – and also delight. She was even receiving custom orders, which meant more and more late nights spent casting and brewing.

The other night, Cassian had even found her passed out on top of her workshop table.

But now, Y/N was surprised to see a familiar redhead standing before her.

“Lucien!” she greeted cheerfully, trying not to immediately think of her conversation with Feyre about his failed bonding with Elain.

“Change your mind about that love potion?” She took a risk, teasing him on such a subject.

But to her relief, Lucien laughed. “No. Not yet, at least. I came to thank you for your…”

“Merchandise?” Y/N offered innocently.

Lucien smiled so charmingly that it was hard to believe someone like Elain wouldn’t at least give this male a chance.

Y/N crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side. “And it worked?”

But she knew her magic wouldn’t fail.

Lucien blushed and nodded. “I can’t explain it entirely. But I…felt so much lighter. I haven’t slept that well in a century.”

She smirked proudly and even stood straighter. “If you have trouble with sleeping, you should have told me. I have dozens of remedies for that.”

“Now you are just boasting.”

Y/N shrunk at such a comment, “I do not mean to, I promise.”

Lucien gave her a soft smile.

“I did not expect to see you back so soon,” Y/N changed the subject. “Feyre says Rhysand keeps you quite busy as an emissary of this court…”

“Yes. He’s kept me very busy. But I spend a lot of time in the mortal realm with a couple of friends. And one of them wished to try some of your merchandise, as well.”

“Friends?” Y/N questioned.

She didn’t know why the word sounded so unusual to her. But she had blurted it out nonetheless.

Lucien huffed out a laugh. “Yes, is it so surprising that I have them?”

“N-No! No, I’m sorry. I just…” But she couldn’t explain her response.

Perhaps because this was the first time she felt like she had them herself. Her coven was her family before all else. But having been on the run the past years, alone, and constantly needing to just survive, friends were not a privilege she was allowed.

But isn’t that what she had gained in the Night Court? Hadn’t Rhysand’s inner circle become her friends, too? And the Valkyrie’s… hadn’t they become even closer than friends?

Y/N blinked, and then forced a small smile. “W-What would your friend be interested in trying?”

Lucien’s amusement disappeared as he clearly caught Y/N getting lost in her own mind.

“My friend has been…cursed.”

Y/N opened her mouth.

“I am not asking if you can break it,” Lucien stopped her from interrupting. “The one who punished her is far more powerful than any High Fae. He is a death-lord.”

Y/N had heard whisperings of death-lords from the wind. She didn't know much about them. Only that of how powerful they were.

He took in a shallow breath. “She is forced into the form of a firebird during the day, only to return to her mortal form at night. And she experiences…pain after the transformation.”

Y/N gave a confident nod. “Anything else?”

“She doesn’t allow herself to sleep in her human form, saving it for when she is a firebird. Coffee nor tea is not strong enough to keep her up the way she wishes to.”

Y/N nodded again. “I can help with both.”

Then she was off, bustling about her shop to prepare what was needed.

Lucien watched her with both admiration and amusement. There was still so much he wanted to know about this woman.

Why had his brother saved her? Yes, she was beautiful. Anyone could see that, even feel it. Surely there was more to it than that. Or perhaps Eris had become so lonely that saving a damsel in distress felt rebellious and reckless.

“Has my brother visited since he brought you here?”

Lucien caught how her movements stopped for a moment from the question.

“Only once. After I was attacked.”

Lucien’s eyebrows rose a second. “Rhysand told me of the attempted kidnapping of Nyx. He also said you saved his life, most likely. How could Eris have known you were injured?”

Y/N shrugged. “I-I-I don’t believe that was why he had even come…” She shook her head. “I just figured he had business with the court.”

Lucien suddenly realized that Y/N hadn’t considered that perhaps Eris had come because she had been hurt.

Which just made Lucien have 20 more questions: Why would Rhysand tell Eris that Y/N had been hurt? And why would Eris care enough to see for himself that Y/N was alright?

Y/N had already returned to moving about her shop. At one point, he heard her mutter something while weaving and knotting a leather bracelet.

A few moments later, Y/N returned to him with a woven basket filled with various objects. And gently placed it in Lucien’s arms.

“This,” Y/N lifted a bright orange candle. “Tell her to light it as soon as she has returned to her human form. But it must be lit by only her, and with intention.”

She picked up an orange and golden gemstone that was attached to a gold necklace chain. “This is citrine. She should wear it throughout the night. It will shake off any grogginess and keep her alert.”

Then she pointed to a green gemstone, but this was too big to be jewelry. “This is malachite. After lighting the candle, she should rub this across her skin, focusing on the bottoms of her feet.”

Lucien nodded, trying to memorize the instructions carefully.

Y/N picked up the bracelet that he had heard her reciting an incantation over. “This bracelet will soothe any pain she has. But she should only wear it when experiencing it, not at all times.”

She grabbed a jar that was filled with what appeared to be various herbs. “When the pain is very bad, mix two spoonfuls of this mixture to brew tea. It’s capsaicin, cloves, ginger, turmeric, and rosemary – all will soothe her aches and pains.”

And before Lucien could thank her or ask any questions, Y/N unfolded a piece of paper that he hadn’t seen in the basket. “I’ve written down all the instructions here, as well.”

“Didn’t trust me to remember it all?” Lucien teased.

Y/N smirked. “I don’t trust males to do many things.”

“You wound me.” He looked down at the basket in his hands. “What do I owe you? I refuse to take any gifts from you again.”

Y/N sighed, but gave him a number to pay.

Lucien didn’t so much as blink at that price, so he must not be short on currency.

As she moved them to the register, Lucien cleared his throat as if trying to get the courage to ask something.

“Would you join me for dinner tonight?” He asked.

Y/N was so taken aback by the question that her head snapped up to meet his gaze, half expecting to see an expression that showed he was messing with her.

Her mouth opened and closed a couple times before she finally got her thoughts in order.

“That is very kind, b-but…” She closed her eyes for a moment and took in a shaky breath. “With Elain…I-I-I don’t think it is…appropriate.”

Lucien hid his disappointment well. “Not even as friends?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at the cheekiness of it all. “And is that what everyone else in Velaris would perceive if they saw the two of together?”

They both knew she was right.

But Y/N also had no intention of getting between two fated mates – even if one of them refused to acknowledge their magical bond.

“We are all going out dancing tonight,” Y/N quickly added, as if it would soften the blow of turning down his dinner invitation. “You should join us.”

Lucien was quiet for a moment, truly contemplating the invite. After a moment, he hesitated before finally giving a short nod.

The ease at which he accepted made Y/N wonder if his dinner invite was merely out of loneliness and not actual romantic interest.

“R-Really?” Y/N asked excitedly. "It’s called Rita’s – or so I am told.”

He nodded, “I know it.”

“If you wait an hour or so, I will be closing and we could go together. I’m meeting them there, it’s not a far walk.”

But Lucien shook his head. “I must drop these off at my apartment, and then run some errands. But I will see you there.”

And he was walking out of the shop.

Y/N didn’t truly believe Lucien would show up. But if he did, she hadn’t even considered that any of her friends would be upset that Lucien was invited in the first place. Elain wasn’t exactly one to go to the taverns and drink. But maybe tonight she would.

–––––––

Feyre walked into Rhysand’s office with a nervous expression.

Nyx sat on her hip as he was held and a bright smile appeared on the toddler's face when he caught sight of his father.

“Lucien is here,” Feyre quickly shared. “Says he wishes to speak to both of us.”

Rhys nodded and stood up, gently taking their son from her.

Feyre led them to the den, where their guest patiently waited for them.

Lucien’s arms were crossed and he wore a deep frown as he looked into the crackling and blazing fireplace.

“Lucien,” Rhysand greeted formally.

Nyx cooed in his arms.

Lucien turned and gave a slight bow of his head to both of them. “I come with a request.”

“And what is this request?” Rhysand continued.

“I wish for you to send a letter to my brother, Eris. I need to meet with him, and I do not have the same methods of contacting him while he is in Autumn Court.”

Feyre and Rhysand didn’t look at each other, but shared similar thoughts in their minds.

“What is this about?” Feyre questioned harshly.

“The mortal witch you are harboring in this court. I know that Eris saved her life and brought her here. But no one will tell me why. And it seems Y/N is being kept in the dark and is not fully aware of how peculiar her situation is.”

Rhysand ignored the accusatory tone and asked, “Where do you wish to meet him?”

Lucien has probably already assumed correctly, Feyre told Rhysand through their bond. Is this smart?

Rhysand answered, We cannot tell him the truth. Whether or not Eris wants his brother to know of his secret is up to him. Let him tell his story.

“The Band of Exiles manor,” Lucien answered.

Feyre rolled her eyes at the name of the dwelling.

“I will send him a message tonight then,” Rhysand told him. “Telling him to meet you there tomorrow as dusk.”

Lucien nodded, but still narrowed his gaze at the two of them. “I am an emissary to your court, but you still would not trust me with this?”

“Your brother asked us to keep Y/N safe. That is all,” Rhysand shrugged.

“All of us know Eris is not a merciful male,” Lucien growled. "He has nearly killed almost every member of your Inner Circle, including your own mate. Yet you protect someone upon his request.”

“Perhaps we do not know Eris as well as we once thought,” Feyre surprised them all by pointing out.

Lucien had nothing to say to that, then looked at Rhysand. “Just get him the message, please.”

He started to leave the room, but paused. “Will Elain be going out with you tonight?”

Feyre squinted in confusion. “No, why?”

Lucien only half-turned to face them. “Y/N invited me to join all of you tonight. If it will be uncomfortable for me to attend, I understand.”

“You are welcome, Lucien.” Rhysand answered before Feyre could. “You are an emissary of this court, as you said.”

Lucien nearly rolled his eyes and huffed, “Yes, but only an emissary and nothing more. That has always been made very clear.”

Then he pulled a pouch from the inside pocket of his jacket. “These are for Elain,” and placed them on the nearest surface.

And with that, he left.

Once he was gone, Y/N picked up the pouch to see that they were seeds.

Feyre gave Rhysand a sad look. “What would you have done had this been us?”

Her mate seemed to hold Nyx even closer. “I do not like to think about what could have been when it comes to us, Feyre Darling.”

–––––––––––

Please, please, please leave a comment or a message. it would be oh so lovely.

What do you think Lucien will say to Eris?

How do you think a night out at Rita's with all this tension will turn out?

What do you think Lucien will say to Eris?

How do you think a night out at Rita's with all this tension will turn out?

chapter x

#eris vanserra #gust & flame #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #feysand #acotar #inner circle #night court #autumn court #velaris #vanserra brothers #eris vanserra fic

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cambion-companion · 1 year

Text

Roses in his Hands, Fire in her Veins

In collaboration with @lady-phasma

Tag list: @allihavenegativethoughts@sanniebabie@cullenswife@schniiipsel@ohsehunbabyy @dontforgetoctober3rd

Chapter One

A Maellory Tyrell x Aemond Targaryen AU

Maellory Tyrell is the ancestor of Margaery, a copy/paste of our Game of Thrones heroine, during the reign of Viserys I Targaryen. Maellory and her grandmother are summoned from their seat at Highgarden to the Capital. There in the throne room she is first introduced to the royal family, including the one-eyed prince Aemond. Little do they know, with one announcement their lives will be forever changed.

Word count: 4,024

Aemond strode into the throne room to find a retinue of House Tyrell in audience with the Queen Regent. His mother had taken up the mantle of regent quite well, even if it was unofficial. Her capacity to rule didn’t surprise him. His footsteps echoed in the hall and he excused himself to his mother with a bow and took his place at the far end of the throne’s dais. A young Tyrell woman stepped out from the cluster of lords and ladies at the front of the room.

The blue jewels on Maellory’s dress were almost an exact match to his sapphire though she could not have known it. They gathered the delicate fabric together between her breasts. Her flat stomach was exposed on the sides, tan skin contrasted with the pale fabric. Her ethereal nature, her light footsteps, and ability to command the room enchanted him. He tried not to stare but the shape of her body and the cut of her dress proved too enticing.

When she curtsied to the Queen Regent he looked away. He surveyed the courtiers in attendance. House Tyrell brightened the throne room like glittering gems. Even her grandmother, Lady Morwenna, wore the bright, near-tropical colors. Maellory stepped to the side of the throne nearest Aemond and she flashed her blue eyes up at him. He was momentarily taken aback by the crook of her lip and the mischievous glint in her eye. He recovered and nodded a small bow as she curtsied.

Her grandmother was speaking to the Queen Regent. He tried to listen, affairs of state were important to him mostly because they weren’t important to his brother, but his attention kept wandering to her. She was watching the exchange attentively, her hands clasped delicately behind her back. This posture only served to draw attention to her breasts, he thought she must know that. She had to. He swallowed and turned his gaze back to his mother.

Maellory was keenly aware of the Targaryen prince’s single-eyed gaze burning into her. Her lips curled into a small smirk as she ducked her head, feigning humble attention as her grandmother continued speaking amicably with the Queen Regent.

“It has been far too long since we hosted your family within the halls of the Red Keep, Lady Morwenna.” Alicent’s expression was warm as she turned her attention to Maellory, who straightened, returning her smile. “I met you when you were just a babe, how you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”

“You are too kind, your grace.” Maellory’s smile widened, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she dipped into a low curtsy. She arched her neck just so, her wavy chestnut hair tumbling over her shoulder, noticing from her periphery how Prince Aemond shifted on his feet in response. A thrill of satisfaction shot through her chest as she rose once more, running her ringed fingers along the satin skirts of her dress.“It is a privilege to be welcomed here at court by your family. Perhaps you will visit us at Highgarden when the Harvest Festival is celebrated.”

Alicent nodded. “I would like that.” She looked to her father, Otto, before continuing. “It has been too long since I visited the Reach. For now, let us retire to the dining hall and make merry for this long-awaited reunion!”

The nobles around the hall shifted and began to depart, a murmur of voices rose, sounding very akin to the sleepy buzz of bees in their hive. Maellory looked coyly over her shoulder, catching Aemond’s eye, noting what a lovely shade of purple it was and how his pupil dilated as she surveyed him, a pursed smile upon her lips.

In that moment she made her decision, turned with a swirl of silken skirts, tossed her long hair, and walked smoothly up to Aemond’s brother. She dipped a curtsy to the eldest prince, noting with studious interest how he drank in her appearance with obvious lust. As she beamed at him, her eyes betrayed nothing of how her skin crawled.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Aegon. I have heard so much about your magnificent conquests.”

Aemond made a noise that sounded as though he had just barely strangled a laugh before it could escape. Her cleverness surprised and humored him. Maellory tactfully ignored him, instead turning to the silver-haired woman standing beside her brother and husband. “And this must be Princess Helaena.” Maellory gave the girl a gentle smile. “I have heard tales of your beauty, though they have not done you justice.”

Aegon snorted, looking over at his wife. “She prefers the company of insects to that of actual people.”

“Indeed?” Maellory kept her soft gaze on Helaena who had looked at her feet at the barbed comment. “I would love to see them sometime. There are many insects at Highgarden, throughout our prolific gardens. They seem to do quite well in the warm climate. Perhaps I could show them to you when you visit.” At her kind words, Helaena looked back up into Maellory’s earnest face, gracing her with a genuine smile of gratitude and nodding. Aemond quickly glanced at his sister’s pleased face but kept his air of disinterest intact.

Maellory at last turned to Aemond, her spine tingling as their eyes met. It was so easy for her to read the people around her, but the expression on his face proved difficult to place. It wasn’t the open lechery she’d grown accustomed to manipulating from noble men, something more akin to admiration, maybe a hint of… apprehension.

“Prince Aemond, rider of the largest dragon in Westeros.” She formally greeted him, looking up into his face through her eyelashes. “Your renown proceeds you as well.”

“As does yours, Lady Tyrell, the ‘rose with silver thorns’,” Aemond’s curved mouth twitched slightly as he inclined his head to her. His demeanor had wavered when he spoke the appellation.

Maellory’s eyes widened in genuine surprise at that, she tilted her chin up, laughing breathily. “Is that what they named me here at King’s Landing, your highness?”

“A silver tongue is more like it. Can’t imagine that gets you far amongst the rabble,” Aegon grinned wickedly at her.

Maellory kept her blue eyes upon Aemond as she answered sweetly. “If you give the people your love, they will return it a thousandfold.”

Aemond’s jaw noticeably clenched at his brother’s antagonism. Still, he held Maellory’s gaze as she seemed intent upon doing. She was as deft with her words as he was with his sword. She didn’t back down, didn’t shield her parries, but feinted to conceal her true thoughts.

Before he could speak she had turned, delicate blue fabric flowing around her legs, and walked to catch up with her grandmother. He watched her hands clasp the old woman’s elbow and lean in toward her conspiratorially. Her exquisite laugh rang out above the other voices.

Aemond shot a spiteful look at his oblivious brother. Aegon had walked off with some vapid lady so Aemond offered his elbow to his sister and escorted her to the dining hall.

* * *

Aemond pulled Helaena’s chair out for her. She sat between Otto and Aegon, who had yet to appear. Aemond walked to his place at the table. He stopped as Maellory was seated at the opposite end of the table. With a small, discontented Mmmm he continued to his chair. He was unaccustomed to feeling disappointments on such an inconsequential scale. Large disappointments colored his entire worldview, but meaningless events like seating arrangements had never affected him.

A servant slid her chair forward as Maellory took her place at the far side of the table. Naturally she sat beside Lady Morwenna who had a surprisingly honored place next to the Queen Regent. That was auspicious, he thought, then dismissed it. He pulled out his own chair more aggressively than was appropriate. The Tyrells sat to his left, limiting his line of sight. Perhaps he had only meant to study the intriguing new arrival, try to understand her, but his disadvantage nagged at him. His inscrutable disposition kept most people at a distance and maintained his carefully balanced leverage.

Maellory chatted with her grandmother and he occasionally heard her airy laughter drift down the table as the meal was laid out for them. No one sat to Aemond’s right this evening so he took to surveying the hall. The dark green hues of the Hightowers’ attire combined with the blacks and reds of the Targaryens’ clothing made a pleasing backdrop for the bright colors of House Tyrell. Aemond sipped his wine as he thought about Maellory’s blue eyes, the blue of her dress, and his own blue gemstone eye. He felt some of his composure return as he glared at the people assembled at the dinner. Aemond’s armor took shape in his stoic, unreadable expression and, ironically, his remaining violet eye.

Thankfully Otto Hightower sat on his left and Aemond was far enough away to only occasionally have to listen to his brother’s drunken drivel. Attending to their sister was something Aemond had been doing since childhood because of Aegon’s disinterest but their grandfather seemed to delight in the task this evening. Aemond sat straight-backed but his shoulders did relax slightly at the sound of his sister chatting happily. The wine helped as well. The servants finished setting the tables and a hush fell over the hall. The attention in the room shifted to the head of the table as Queen Alicent rose from her seat, goblet of wine held in her hand.

“Friends, well met and be welcome. We have summoned you all here today to bear witness and celebrate the imminent union of House Targaryen with House Tyrell.” Her brown eyes sparkled down upon the smiling Morwenna Tyrell. Aemond shifted in his chair, glancing briefly at the back of Maellory’s coiffed hair, his brow furrowed slightly as his mother continued speaking.

Alicent raised her goblet, encouraging others to toast. “It brings me great happiness to announce that Maellory Tyrell will be betrothed to one of my sons, Aemond or Daeron.” The queen regent nodded to Maellory, Aemond noticed her posture stiffen momentarily, almost imperceptibly. His own shoulders were tense with surprise, he stared at Alicent trying to draw her gaze to his, but she didn’t seem to want to look at him. His eye narrowed, the only outward sign of his emotions.

“Since Lady Maellory is the eldest daughter of Lord Karlen Tyrell, she will have until the anticipated Harvest Moon Festival to decide who she would like to marry.” Alicent regarded the many faces looking back at her, soft murmurs spread around the table as Aemond lowered his eye to his plate. His face grew hot as the whispers grew louder.

A man’s voice rose above the rest as he addressed the queen.

“Forgive me, your grace, is this not a rather out of the ordinary way in which such matters are done?”

“Thank you, Lord Beesbury,” the Queen Regent acknowledged the slightly impertinent inquiry. Aemond looked up to watch his mother address the old lord. “For long House Tyrell has been faithful to the Crown, thus we extend this courtesy to honor that loyalty.”

“I am Hand of the King and represent his Grace’s wishes in this matter.” Otto spoke up next to Aemond, turning heads in his direction, allowing Aemond at last to look upon Maellory’s candlelit face. Her eyes flickered to him momentarily, long enough for her to raise a thin eyebrow and widen her eyes as if to commiserate in the surprise of their situation.

“The Hightowers are vassals to House Tyrell, and King Viserys has agreed to this plan for the sake of his queen, as well as myself, and our relationship with the lords of the Reach.” Otto drank from his own wine glass, relishing the reaction of those gathered over its glass rim. He trusted his daughter and she listened to his advice but this had been a stroke of cunning that even he could not have foreseen.

Lord Beesbury looked more satisfied, though still confused as his sunken eyes flitted from Maellory to Aemond. “Very well, however I still think it is not in keeping with our customs.” Some of the heat left Aemond’s face with his grandfather’s defense of the Crown’s position but his analytical mind searched for the reasoning, for something in Maellory’s character that would allow a first born daughter to have her choice of Targaryen prince. Lord Beesbury made an excellent point and Aemond was unsure if he disagreed. The realm was held together by tradition. He detested it but understood that tradition often meant security and peace. This deviation from it was perplexing, maybe even a bit intriguing.

The sounds of dining commenced, knives and forks against plates becoming a clamor that echoed around the large room. The noise served as a distraction from his instinctive strain to hear the lowered voices and individual conversations at the table. He looked at his plate and pushed it away.

Alicent lowered herself into her plush dining chair, turning her attention back to Maellory. “Daeron is on his way back from Oldtown where he has been squiring many years for my father’s nephew, Sir Ormund.” Maellory mirrored Alicent’s movements as the Queen leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering her voice. “Some would say Aemond has had an unfair advantage in meeting you first, however I think you will find Daeron to be very charming. He matches you in age, I believe, he just turned seven and ten years last winter.”

Maellory glanced surreptitiously down the table to where Aemond sat, his profile sharp as his long fingers tapped the wood beside his untouched drink. Despite her perplexity, she molded a careful smile upon her lips, turning back to Alicent and Morwenna. “You honor me beyond words, my queen.”

As Alicent’s attention was diverted by the arrival of more food, Maellory’s gaze sharpened upon her grandmother. “When were you going to tell me of this arrangement?” The polite, courtly smile remained on her face but her voice, though she tried to sweeten it, carried an icy undercurrent.

Morwenna looked at her granddaughter grimly, her voice low enough to avoid being heard by any listening ears. “It is not abnormal for sons and daughters of great houses to be unaware of their impending fates.” Her wrinkled mouth pressed into a fine line as she read Maellory’s displeased expression. “My petal, you have been given more freedom than most girls in your position ever have the opportunity to hold.”

As the plates were cleared for the next course Aemond stilled his hand on the table and fought the urge to storm out of the hall. Otto glanced at his grandson, opened his mouth, then closed it as he caught Aemond’s glaring eye. With great restraint Aemond stood and moved his chair silently back under the table. Unlike in the throne room he wouldn’t have to draw attention to his exit from the dining hall. He bounded down the steps of the dais and into the shadows of the side wall.

Maellory nodded at her grandmother’s words absently as she watched Aemond leave the table. He wasn’t entirely inconspicuous. His striking figure seemed to catch her eye whenever they were in the same room. She looked around the room quickly, noting her possible points of egress. For the moment she turned to Lady Morwenna and smiled warmly at her. Her grandmother was artful in her politics and Maellory admired her dearly. She felt the first twinges of anxiety that she might be left alone in King’s Landing without her grandmother. Maellory had learned so much from her in seventeen years but knew she would need her in the near future perhaps more than she ever had before.

* * *

Maellory wasn’t at all sure where Aemond had gone when he turned down the hallway. Her light, soft steps made nearly no sound but she wasn’t going to race to keep up with his long strides. She caught her breath and her brows knitted together with a mix of consternation and determination. She retraced her steps back to the last corner they had turned and stepped out of the Keep into a small, narrow garden balcony. It was enclosed on only two sides and opened up to a view of the city and Blackwater Bay glinting with the early moonlight in the distance.

The cool dusk air ruffled along Maellory’s gown, causing her bare arms to erupt in gooseflesh. Hugging herself for warmth, she swept her eyes along the large balcony, her curious gaze alighting upon Aemond’s form. His back was to her, and the way his silver hair shone in the dim moonlight only served to make him more intriguing.

She didn’t know at all what to expect from the youngest prince but through her observation of the eldest she mused that he would be nothing like this second son. Daeron was most likely as different from his older brothers as they were from each other. The way Aemond tried to be a looming figure in the background seemed to have the opposite effect on Maellory. She thought the contrast with his elder brother made him shine like a polished river rock, hard sides to be sure, but so much more refined than Aegon. She imagined that every thought Aegon ever had passed over his face if not also past his lips. Aemond, on the other hand, chose his words and his facade as deliberately as she did.

He was unaware of her presence, his emotions in turmoil as he clasped his hands tightly behind him. His silver hair stirred in the salty breeze coming off Blackwater Bay, the long strands tickling his cheeks. Aemond's nebulous thoughts pulled at the corners of his mind, unformed but beginning to coalesce as he stared across the city of King’s Landing. Normally he would be content in readily yielding a betrothal to his younger brother; now, however, Lord Beesbury’s words had stayed with him as much as the shape of her raised eyebrow had lingered in his mind’s eye. Why not let her choose?

He longed for the clarity of being astride Vhagar. Flying with her gave him the space he required to think. This part of the castle had, so far, proved to be secluded enough from the chatter of the court that he could indulge his racing mind. He had avoided his stuffy chambers, not wanting to pace in front of the fire as he was wont to do. The very last feeling he needed now was encumbrance. One completely solid feeling amongst all of the others, identifiable above his roiling thoughts, was coercion.

Maellory found the stairs at the end hallway. She smoothed her windswept hair before approaching the balcony’s railing. She kept a slight distance between herself and the prince. Aemond didn’t turn to her immediately. He listened to her footsteps as she walked up to him and saw her hand rest on the railing from the corner of his eye. He kept his hands behind his back but shifted his weight slightly toward her.

His eye lingered on the waves in the bay. The crests caught the evening moonlight making the bay appear to be filled with stars. The waves could just barely be heard above the noise of the city as it settled its affairs of the day. Leaves rustled on the vines overhanging the balcony. The breeze shifted and he could smell Maellory’s perfume. Everything about this woman was proving to be breathtaking. Aemond disliked being so disarmed.

“I often seek out the fresh breeze in a wide open space when I feel overwhelmed. Being surrounded by moonlight and flowers is calming.” He turned slowly on the heel of his boot. The moonlight caught on her eyelashes as she looked at the garden below. As she lifted her head to look at him he saw it glint off her bottom lip. He clenched his jaw. His hands gripped his forearms behind his back. “I imagine it reminds you of home, my lady.”

“The scent of all these lovely flowers is intoxicating, to be certain.”

The moonbeams falling across Maellory’s face turned her eyes to silver, lighting them from within. Aemond was entranced. “Yes, the flowers as well.” He murmured, pleased to see a slight blush rise to her cheeks.

“I want to apologize on behalf of my brother for his earlier behavior.” Aemond let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “He despises being at court, manners have never come easy to him.”

“I was not offended.” Maellory looked out toward the shimmering ocean, the curves of her neck accentuated by shadows and soft argent light. He noticed she wore no jewels at her neck. Her neck and collarbones needed no adornment. The low cut of her dress began to draw his eye back to the gems of her bodice. He rubbed the inside of his knuckles with his thumb.

“My brother, Loras, would prefer if he weren’t the eldest son, he shirks duty in favor of the empty glory of tourneys and a quick tumble with a lover.” She looked back to Aemond, noting how his eye flicked quickly up to her face. “It often falls upon my shoulders to represent our house with the honor it deserves.”

“A feeling I know well.” Aemond nodded, his arms relaxing, unwinding behind his back to rest at his sides. He placed his hand upon the stone wall of the balcony, his fingertips inches from hers. “Now you have been burdened still more with the decision of who you are to wed.”

“I wouldn’t name it a burden.” Maellory felt a twinge of mischievous delight at the way Aemond’s curved lips parted slightly at her words. “A surprise for both of us it seems, but not an unwelcome one.” She searched his face, trying to read what he was feeling, pursing her lips slightly when Aemond gave nothing away.

He nodded at her slightly, his eye never leaving hers. “No, not unwelcome. I have grown accustomed to proving myself, this is no different.” He wasn’t sure if the story of how he claimed Vhagar had traveled to Highgarden intact. Perhaps Maellory knew precisely what he had sacrificed in addition to his eye to prove himself. The court may have even embellished the tale beyond recognition. A second son having to prove himself was not unusual but his mutilation was something most outsiders felt he must overcome.

“I would rather you show me who you are, than feel you have something to prove.” Maellory’s gaze was still intent upon Aemond, watching with interest as a flicker of surprise softened his expression.

He smiled gently down at her. “I will keep that in mind, Lady Maellory.” Her name felt like silk on his tongue.

Maellory shivered again, unused to the chilly nights at King's Landing. She stepped closer to him. He swallowed dryly as she did so. He followed her gaze out to the bay, not turning his body away from her. The silence was peaceful, punctuated intermittently by the first birdsong of the evening. The constant prattle of the court and its ladies made his silence a respite for her. Within that lacuna she saw through Aemond’s imposing presence, saw her own facade mirrored in his posture, in his impeccably curated attire, in the intangible armor he wore everyday.

“I will leave you to your thoughts, my prince.” Maellory’s eyes lingered on the contours of Aemond’s face. “I hope we can speak together more soon.”

“That is my desire, as well.”

Maellory dipped her head and offered him a tender smile before she walked to the stairs. As she turned the side of her hand coquettishly grazed Aemond’s, their skin barely touching at all.

Aemond watched her leave, a gust of wind caught the thin fabric of her azure dress while her long auburn curls bounced with each step she took.

His eye remained upon the doorway long after she passed through it. The way her eyes had moved over him, exposed him, it was a unique ability, a challenge he had never had to meet before. With a sharp exhalation through his nose, Aemond replaced his hands behind his back and turned to survey the moonlit landscape, a smile of satisfaction tugging up his lips.

#aemond x tyrell oc #aemond x original character #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x original character #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond x oc #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #hotd aemond #aemond x margaery #aemory #hotd fanfic

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fanficapologist · 5 months

Text

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Fifty

The title "Princess" felt foreign to Maera, and hearing it directed at her by various courtiers from noble houses left her with a curious sensation in her stomach. It was a reminder of her new role and the responsibilities that came with it. Still, she carried herself with grace, accepting the curtsies and acknowledgments from those around her.

However, there was one new title that she cherished—being addressed as "Aunt." As the royal children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, made a brief appearance at the celebration, they greeted her as such. Maera's heart warmed at the endearment, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the silver-haired twins.

Maera delighted in dancing with the little Prince and Princess, a child held securely on each hip. It was a heartwarming and joyous moment, and she felt a sense of belonging within the royal family, even as she adjusted to the new titles and roles that had been bestowed upon her. While twirling on the dance floor with her new niece and nephew, Maera glanced back at Aemond, who was smiling at her fondly as he spoke with his grandfather, Lord Otto.

Her smiles were genuine as she continued to interact with the noble attendees, making her way through the crowd. Across the room, she spotted her brother Luthor, who had been engaged in conversation with Lord Borros of House Baratheon. Upon making eye contact with his younger sister, Luthor respectfully withdrew from the conversation he was having, yet as he approached Maera a serious expression adorned his face.

When he reached her, he bowed formally, showing respect and courtesy. Maera felt a mixture of emotions at this gesture, a combination of pride for her brother's chivalry but also a sense of sibling camaraderie.

Maera couldn't help but groan, her playfulness shining through. "Brother, not you too! This is ridiculous. Such formalities with your own sister."

Luthor chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes, as he retorted, "Well, you should be glad I'm at least aware of the formalities of the court." He grasped her hand in his before his attention shifted to the golden and sapphire ring on Maera's hand, a gift from Aemond. He couldn't help but inquire, "Are you truly happy with the marriage?"

Maera responded with a hint of sarcasm, "Well, nothing can be done about it now." But she saw that her brother's worries weren't so easily alleviated. She placed her other hand on top of his and offered a warm smile. "You needn't worry," she reassured him.

Luthor gazed at his sister, a more serious expression crossing his features. "I have just been informed that I am betrothed to one of Borros Baratheon's daughters."

The news caused concern to wash over Maera's face, her brows furrowing slightly. However, she quickly masked her initial reaction with a warm smile, for her brother's sake. "Congratulations, Luthor," she uttered, her voice carrying a forced cheerfulness. Curiosity lined her words as she inquired, "Do you know which daughter is intended to be your bride?" Internally, she beseeched the Gods for mercy, hoping against hope that Floris wasn't the chosen match. The mere thought of her as a sister-in-law left Maera unsettled.

With a nonchalant shrug, Luthor admitted, "I do not know. Not like it matters anyway." A deep sigh followed. “I thought I would have more time… before being tied to a marriage.”

Maera's eyes softened, her hand reaching up to rest on his shoulder. She empathetically shared, "I know that feeling well." Encouragingly, she added, "Be positive. Your bride might bring you great happiness. And a union with a Baratheon is a strong match indeed."

“If you say so, Princess,” Luthor replied in a defeated manner, a rueful smile on his face. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, sweet sister. I think I need to find more wine to help me come to terms with my impending future."

He bowed once more and walked away, leaving Maera with lingering feelings of guilt and sadness for her brother. She understood that her marriage to Aemond had played a role in Luthor's betrothal, and that weighed on her, even amidst the celebration of her own nuptials.

She quickly shook her head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts, painting a smile on her face as she continued to exchange pleasantries with the nobles she hadn’t had a chance to speak with yet. As the festivities progressed and the sky grew darker, Maera observed the lively atmosphere in the room. Music filled the air, and the guests seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

She graciously accepted a dance offered by Lord Borros Baratheon, much to the apparent dismay of Prince Aemond, who watched the entire interaction from across the room, a goblet in his hand and a brooding look across his face. Maera raised her eyebrows at him in response, a look that spoke the words of ‘well, what do you want me to do?’ The Prince then strolled away, tension evident in his posture, continuing to address the nobles in attendance of the event.

During their dance, Maera took a moment to express her gratitude to Lord Borros for agreeing to a match with her brother. She acknowledged how graciously the Lord had accepted Aemond’s marriage to her, and commended Lord Borros for tactfully securing not only another Targaryen Prince for one of his daughters, but also a brother of a Princess.

Lord Borros did not seem particularly interested in Maera’s words, instead casting his dark eyes onto her form, his touch lingering as they continued their dance. Maera remained focussed through it all. She would indulge the Head of House Baratheon for as long as she could if it meant securing a decent future for Luthor. Stealthily, she asked Lord Borros about his daughters’ health and education, information which he seemed all too happy to provide her with.

Maera then subtly maneuvered the conversation to mentioning her acquaintance with the Lady Floris, and although she described her as educated and kind, these were not the thoughts Maera actually had in her head. She implored Lord Borros that he could surely procure a better match for his most beautiful daughter, to which Lord Borros seemingly agreed, after having his ego massaged. Maera relished in her victory, ensuring that Floris was not chosen as Luthor’s bride. Her diplomatic skills came into play as she worked to secure the best outcome for her family.

As the dance with Lord Borros concluded, Maera's gaze shifted across the room to find Aemond engaged in conversation with two unfamiliar noblemen. The Prince’s stance displayed a subtle tension, his expression usually stoic as his fingers lightly gripped the golden glass in his hand.

The men he was engaged with presented a noticeable contrast. One was an older noble, his bald head adorned with a distinguished grey beard, while the other was a younger man with clean-shaven features and a head of yellow-blond hair. They both wore attire in pale red and blue, featuring the sigil of moons and stars, a telltale sign they were the blood of House Tarth.

With a feeling of curiosity, Maera approached the group, her fingers lightly grazing Aemond's arm as she took her place by his side. The Prince, initially on high alert, swiftly turned to see who had joined them, his demeanor softening as he realized it was his bride.

Despite the tension in his body language and the imposing impression he might have given others, Maera was not intimidated.Their eyes met, locked in a silent exchange. Maera's green eyes held a mix of interest and concern as she tried to decipher what had Aemond so tightly wound.

As she turned her attention to the guests, the noblemen bowed to Maera, something she was still not used to, no matter how many times she had witnessed the gesture that evening. With a warm smile, Maera addressed the noblemen, "Forgive my intrusion, my Lords. I simply wished to personally express my gratitude to those who attended our wedding."

The younger lord mirrored her grin before exclaiming, "Gods! It is as if the late Lady Viserra stands before us. The resemblance is uncanny."

A warm fondness lit up Maera's smile at the heartfelt comment. She, of course, knew her mother and aunt were twins, but to hear the comparison being acknowledged caused Maera’s heart to swell with love for her mother and her Targaryen kin.

The delicate situation with House Tarth, and their concerns about one of their islands being part of her dowry to the Targaryens, was not lost on her. She realized the importance of handling this interaction with care, as House Tarth's allegiance was not set in stone. Maera needed to find a way to maintain a positive relationship while navigating the delicate political landscape.

Thankfully, her new network of spies had been useful in this matter. The young stablehand had gathered information whilst tending to the Tarth Lords’ horses, eavesdropping and collecting snippets of information when assisting with the luggage from the carriages.

Maera gracefully engaged in conversation with the young Lord, her smile bright as she conveyed, "Although we have never met, my late Aunt Viserra spoke fondly of you in her letters, Lord Edwyn. I know you were a dear friend to my cousins, Gods rest their souls."

The young Lord nodded, confirming her assumption. Lord Edwyn then gestured towards his father, stating, "My father, Lord Bryndemere." With a respectful nod, Maera acknowledged the older Lord, who, to her surprise, did not return the courtesy.

Aemond, sensing the disrespect, was poised to intervene, but Maera subtly squeezed his arm as a warning. Directing her attention back to Lord Bryndemere, she softened her expression.

“I never had the pleasure of meeting my Uncle Byron in person. But I know he was a good and kind man, and how close you were with him, my Lord. My late Aunt said you shared a bond like brothers,” she conveyed with sympathy, hoping to bridge the gap. At this point, the older Lord acknowledged her with a respectful nod. Maera, pleased with the progress, smiled to herself, sensing a thaw in the conversation.

When engaging in small talk with the Tarth noblemen, her demeanour exuded a sense of confidence, and her pale, round face reflected genuine interest. Maera remained at Aemond's side, her hand stroking up and down his arm with a feather-light touch, both physically and emotionally connected to him, a silent unity in their presence.

Maera gracefully steered the conversation, aiming to create a connection and dispel tension with the Evenstar. Commenting on her dowry, she asserted, "The Straits of Tarth will prove a valuable asset to the Green's cause." Expressing confidence, she added, "I am sure Prince Aemond has conveyed his gratitude for Tarth's acceptance of this agreement."

Lord Edwyn began to reply, but his father scoffed, dismissing his son's input and mumbling, “Well, we hardly had a choice.” Taking a sip from his goblet, Lord Bryndemere gruffly asserted, "The seat of Morne should have gone to one of my sons or a true noble on Tarth, not some Targaryen who knows nothing of the land."

Aemond, his jaw clenched, warned the Lord, "Tread carefully, my Lord." Through gritted teeth, he reminded, "Any slander against House Targaryen is insult against your King, and could be considered treason."

To diffuse the tension, Maera interjected, "I actually agree with Lord Bryndemere."

The unexpected statement left the three men looking at her with a mix of confusion and shock, creating a momentary pause in the interaction. The dynamics in the conversation began to shift, and Maera's ability to navigate the situation showcased her resilience and strategic thinking.

Steering the narrative of their chat, Maera continued, "House Tarth does not know us well, and we do not know House Tarth. How can trust and alliance be built between us?"

Aemond fixed his singular violet eye on Maera, his curiosity evident, while Lord Bryndemere arched an intrigued eyebrow, curious about the direction of Maera's words.

Maera then directed her attention to Lord Edwyn, inquiring, "Correct me if I am wrong, my Lord, but your good Lady wife blessed you with a son six moons ago, named for your father?" Lord Edwyn nodded, confirming her accuracy.

Taking in the information, Maera added, "I am sure the baby boy is as strong as the Evenstar he was named for," eliciting a subtle smirk from Lord Bryndemere, seemingly proud at the compliments he and his kin were receiving.

Building her proposal, Maera suggested, "As the young Lord will one day inherit House Tarth, he should have a strong wife by his side." She glanced at Aemond, who appeared perplexed, before refocusing on the Tarth nobleman and continued, "I would like to make you an offer."

For a moment, the newly-wedded couple locked eyes, Maera's emerald-green gaze meeting Aemond's single violet one.The Prince, his voice firm in High Valyrian, questioned, “Skoros issi ao itetan?” What are you doing?

Maera, undeterred, flashed a reassuring smile, responding in the same tongue, “Pāsagon issa.” Trust me.

Returning her focus to the noblemen, she declared, “Aemond and I will fulfill our duty, producing as many heirs as we can for our House. If a daughter is born, it would be our honour to pledge her to House Tarth, leading her to eventually becoming the Lady of Evenfall Hall.”

Lord Edwyn gasped, clearly eager for the prospect of such a significant alliance. “A most judicious offer my Prince, Princess.” He looked to the older lord for consent, seeking approval through subtle facial expressions and gestures.

To secure Lord Bryndemere’s agreement, Maera added to her terms. “We shall ensure she is well educated on the customs of Tarth and the isles. Prince Aemond rides the largest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms, and dragonback is quicker than travelling via ship. Our daughter could visit the island as often as we see fit.” She then turned to look at the one-eyed Prince, a soft smile gracing her face. “My one request would be that our daughter becomes familiar with the little lord before entering into marriage, so they may find happiness in each other’s company. Just as I have with my husband.” Husband. It was the first time she referred to Aemond by that title. She couldn’t help but smile as the word left her lips.

The older lord, initially gruff and resistant, experienced a softening in his facial expression as Maera presented her generous terms. Eventually, after a moment of tension, Lord Bryndemere relented. "It would be an privilege, Princess.”

Maera's diplomatic prowess successfully navigated the negotiation, leaving a positive impact on the Tarth noblemen. Her face lit up, expressing her joy, as she mentioned, "I will speak with my father tomorrow to draw up the agreement."

As she revelled in her victory thanks to her strategic negotiation skills, she was surprised to feel a firm squeeze on her upper arm, turning to find her husband’s hand wrapped around it. Confusion etched her features as Aemond appeared tense and annoyed, his tense shoulders giving away his agitation. The Prince asked the Lords to excuse them, leading her to a secluded balcony, away from the bustling party atmosphere.

The balcony, set against the backdrop of a dark night sky adorned with stars, provided a serene yet charged atmosphere. In the distance, the dragons Vhagar and Ēbrion engaged in an aerial skirmish, seemingly fighting over a carcass. The night air carried the distant roars and flapping of wings, underscoring the intensity of the moment between the newly-weds.

Aemond had taken himself to the edge of the balcony, fingers drumming against the stone. Agitation began to bubble within Maera as she watched the Prince gazing at the squabbling beasts in the distance, perplexed why Aemond had dragged her away from the conversation from the noblemen of House Tarth.

Eventually the Prince turned to her, brows furrowed with frustration, his tone serious as he questioned, “Gaomagon ao pendagon ziry iksos sylvie naejot kivio īlva riñnykeā mijegon issa skorȳso?!” Do you think it is proper to pledge my child without my consent?

Maera scoffed, instantly responding, "I am pledging our child, a child that may not even come into existence, to keep the peace and align House Tarth with the Greens' cause."

Aemond hummed dismissively in response, arms folding across his chest, but Maera stood her ground, her green eyes reflecting determination and perhaps a hint of defiance. She implored him, “Ao daor sagon vēdroso. Ziry iksos nykeā udrimmi kȳvanon.”You cannot be angry; it is an advantageous plan.

Aemond countered, jaw clenched. “Nykeā dīnilūks naejot nykeā quba āeksio iksos daor sȳz va syt zaldrīzes.” A marriage to a minor lord is not good enough for a dragon.

Their words clashed like swords, and the atmosphere became charged with tension as both Aemond and Maera, as stubborn as each other, refused to back down. The cool night air seemed to carry the weight of their disagreement as they faced each other, each defending their perspective with unwavering determination. The distant sounds of the ongoing celebration served as an ironic backdrop to the discord unfolding on the balcony.

As Maera hissed Aemond’s name in response, an underlying warning not to push her further, their exchange interrupted by a voice calling out, "Lovers' quarrel already?"

The pair turned abruptly to find Aegon behind them, a mirthful glint in his eyes, a testament to the revelry he had been partaking in. His Targaryen features were accentuated by the wine-induced flush on his face, and his brash demeanor added an element of levity to the tension-laden atmosphere.

Aemond, despite his evident displeasure, offered a respectful nod to his brother, a silent acknowledgment of the royal presence. Maera, less enthusiastic, dipped into a curtsy, her expression revealing a mix of annoyance and compliance in the presence of the inebriated king. The interruption momentarily diffused the intensity of their disagreement, creating an uneasy truce under the watchful eye of the inebriated monarch.

Tutting jokingly, Aegon remarked, "Surely the arguments are meant to occur some time after the marriage has taken place, not on the actual wedding day." Maera stifled a roll of her eyes, sensing the King's delight in her and Aemond's disagreement. However, just to get on his nerves, Maera agreed with Aegon’s statement, eliciting an annoyed hum from Aemond.

But the King chuckled, a slight sway in his movements as he stepped closer to the pair, before eagerly expressing, "I hope the pair of you will become enamored once more in time for the bedding ceremony," a dark smile gracing his face. Maera's eyes widened at Aegon's words, a wave of anxiety washing over her, and stress knotting in her stomach at the thought of an audience during such an intimate moment with Aemond.

She turned to the one-eyed Prince, seeing the initial annoyance shift to disbelief and defensiveness. He took a subtle step in front of Maera, as if guarding her from his brother. Aemond’s jaw tightened as he responded to Aegon, his tone incredulous, "You cannot be serious."

Aegon grinned playfully, a glint of amusement in his eye as he placed a hand on his little brother's shoulder. He told Aemond, "It is tradition, my dear brother. And what better way to prove Maera untouched than with witnesses," shooting a mischievous glance at Maera.

Aemond reacted with anger, shrugging off Aegon's touch, the fury evident in his single violet eye underscoring his resistance to the idea. But this seemed to have no affect on Aegon, merely causing him to snicker. "Do not worry, brother. I will tell you what to do, just like when we were younger."

Maera growled in response, reaching her limit on how much more she could take. “You are disgusting.”

“But I am the King,” Aegon retorted. “And if I do not exist above duty and tradition, then you most certainly do not either.”

Maera looked to Aemond with desperation, momentarily forgetting their recent disagreement. The exchanged look between them revealed a shared sentiment—they both vehemently opposed the idea of an audience on their wedding night.

Aegon then decided that he had enough of toying with his brother and new sister-in-law, choosing to depart from the scene, calling back to them that he was looking forward to seeing them later on.

When the King was no longer in view, Maera, overcome with disbelief, wrapped her arms around herself, clutching her wedding dress tightly as she muttered, "Oh Gods."

This prompted Aemond to place a hand on each shoulder, concern etched across his face as he watched the tears begin to form in his bride’s green eyes.

“He’s going to watch us,” she whispered into the air, dread coating her words.

The Prince, his jaw clenched, responded determinedly, "No, he is not."

Aemond then looked around cautiously, ensuring they were not under scrutiny. His jaw remained tense, silver hair swaying with the movement, and his single violet eye scanned the surroundings. He moved towards a turret adjacent to the balcony, deftly shifting aside a Targaryen flag, revealing a discreet wooden door. Maera, her green eyes reflecting confusion, followed Aemond to the turret, the rustle of her wedding dress echoing as she stepped closer, curious about the door's destination.

"At the top of the stairs, take the seventh right, then the fourth left. There will be a door that leads to my chambers. Wait for me there,” he instructed her urgently. Maera had no time to react as Aemond gently pushed her across the threshold, swiftly shutting the door behind her.

Anger and frustration surged within her as she gathered up her skirts, cursing Aegon under her breath. The darkness enveloped her in the stone-walled turret, and shimmering moonlight seeped through the windows as she followed Aemond's instructions, ascending the many stairs towards his chambers.

Anxiety gripped Maera as she ascended. Uncertain about Aemond's intentions and haunted by the looming prospect of the bedding ceremony, she made her way cautiously through the silent passages.

Maera followed Aemond's instructions precisely, finally reaching a door. Pushing it open gently, the door revealed a darkened room. Inside, a maid was lighting the hearth, and she looked shocked to see Maera but quickly curtsied.

Addressing the young girl, Maera asked, "Is this Prince Aemond’s chambers?" The maid nodded in confirmation. Maera breathed a sigh of relief and then requested, "Quickly fetch my maid, Thena." The maid replied with a swift "Yes, Princess," accompanied by a quick curtsy before scuttling out of the room.

As the maid left, Maera called after her, "And some wine too, for God's sake," feeling the need to calm her nerves before the impending wedding night.

Notes: Arrggghhh I’m so sorry but this ended up being like 10k words so I needed to split it into two parts. And I want to make the wedding night perfect, not a half assed chapter. But definitely Smut next upload, I swear on Aemond’s other eye. Just editing the next chapter and hoping to get it uploaded in a few days time

Tags: @grungegrrrl @shesjustanothergeek @watercolorskyy @manipulatixe @marvelescvpe @blue-serendipity

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#maera wylde #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #chapters #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd helaena #house targaryen #house wylde

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animentality · 6 months

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Baldur's Gate 3 made me think about Lord of the Rings, and not because of the lore dumps or the high fantasy setting.

Lord of the Rings has similar themes about the corruption of power, the importance of choice and resisting temptation, and the epic journey of a band of ragtag adventurers who need to save the world from undeniably evil forces.

But one of the more interesting sub themes for me is the idea that evil destroys itself.

LOTR constantly explores the idea that evil is always vying for power and turning on itself and bitterly dividing itself just by nature of being greedy and all consuming and selfish.

The dark urge storyline in baldur's gate 3, and the main storyline to some extent, also hammers this in.

The entire evil plan falls apart because the cult of Bhaal is going through "leadership troubles" as Ketheric Thorm put it.

Orin the Red killed the Chosen of Bhaal so she could usurp the position!

And guess what?

She fucked everything up.

She couldn't handle the responsibility, couldn't pull it off, where the dark urge could've, but worst of all.

She gave the good guys the dark urge.

The dark urge, who was clever and powerful enough to set everything in motion...and who also had the power to stop it.

Evil destroyed itself.

That's baller.

I am such a fucking sucker for the simple theme of choosing to be good.

I am a bleeding heart, for the idea of evil being defeated by its own hubris.

I love redemption. I love the effect of individual choices, on the fate of the world.

It's one of the most interesting things about fantasy settings, giving a small group of weirdos the power to change their society with a few well timed antics.

I just wanted to make that parallel.

One of my all-time favorite fantasy flavors, I think.

Plus baldur's gate 3 has the darker and grittier tone of say, game of thrones, but with far more reservations and sensitivity, so.

Baldur's Gate 3 is my favorite novel is what I'm saying.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #lord of the rings

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thethirdromana · 2 years

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I have a big clump of thoughts that have been prompted by reading the LOTR newsletter and Dracula Daily at the same time. I haven't quite figured them all out yet, but I'm going to see if writing them out helps.

Specifically the thing I'm interested in is how these books relate to the time at which they were published.

Let's start with the Lord of the Rings. No matter how much I know that the Lord of the Rings was published in the 1950s, there's always a record scratch moment when I'm reminded of it, for instance by discussion of connections to World War II or even World War I.

Because it feels older, right? That's not just me? It feels like it could plausibly have been published in the 1850s rather than the 1950s. A tweet that I now can't find claimed that the Lord of the Rings is among the only exposure that people today have to non-modern ways of thinking. It's a story that Tolkien consciously crafted as mythology. It should feel old, it's supposed to.

But there's also a relationship between this and the response to Tolkien. There's a quote which I also now can't find, which could equally plausibly have been from Ursula Le Guin or some random tumblr post, which says - to paraphrase - Tolkien is the father of all fantasy, and fantasy writers either accept that (Robin Hobb, Brandon Sanderson) or yell "you're not my real dad!" and write in conscious opposition to him (NK Jemison, George RR Martin, in very different ways). But there's no escaping him.

[Edited: @elven-child suggests this could have been Terry Pratchett, who said:

J.R.R. Tolkien has become a sort of mountain, appearing in all subsequent fantasy in the way that Mt. Fuji appears so often in Japanese prints. Sometimes it’s big and up close. Sometimes it’s a shape on the horizon. Sometimes it’s not there at all, which means that the artist either has made a deliberate decision against the mountain, which is interesting in itself, or is in fact standing on Mt. Fuji.

... which I like better than the Oedipal Tolkien-as-father version.]

Game of Thrones was published in 1991. Assassin's Apprentice in 1995. And those are just the examples I chose from books that I can see from where I'm sitting right now. The all-consuming influence of the Lord of the Rings happened very fast after its publication - again, being published in the 1850s would feel more reasonable for the depth and breadth of its cultural impact. It feels like that should take longer!

Then there's Dracula. Which is as consciously modern as the Lord of the Rings is consciously... historic? Medieval? It's remarkable how little effort it would take to move the story of Dracula to the modern day - if Dracula's castle has no wifi and dodgy mobile phone reception, the rest of the story can play out pretty much as-is, with WhatsApp messages standing in for the telegrams and emails for the letters.

(The only bit I would struggle to believe is that Van Helsing could travel back and forth to Amsterdam that often on the Eurostar or Ryanair without once being delayed.)

That's fascinating to me because Dracula is also a call-back to an older mode of writing, just as Tolkien drew on Norse sagas and Old English literature. An epistolary gothic novel is very 18th century. Even in terms of the late 19th century gothic revival, Dracula came along pretty late - Carmilla was 25 years earlier. But instead of the weight of the history of gothic literature dragging Dracula backward, it feels like Dracula drags the rest of it forward instead.

In some ways, I think this is literally what happened. The horror tropes of Dracula became the horror tropes of 20th century cinema, and the result is that the content and themes of gothic literature are familiar to us. We understand most of what Northanger Abbey is parodying even if we've never read the Mysteries of Udolpho or any of the other novels that Austen satirises. The effect of Dracula's popularity has been to keep itself current in ways that Bram Stoker could never have anticipated or planned.

I'm not sure I've figured out exactly what my point is here, but it was fun to think about anyway.

#dracula daily #lotr newsletter #lotr #dracula #long post #ty if you made it to the end of this ramble

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birdkeeperklink · 4 months

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10 characters 10 fandoms

I was tagged by @salsedine ages ago (thank you! 👋🥰) and finally getting around to it!

So these are in no particular order even though they're numbered, but here we go:

1. Leonard McCoy from Star Trek: The Original Series

I love his gruff exterior coupled with how much he cares really deeply. He's passionate and full of fire, but he's also so compassionate and caring. He's a healer, but instead of embodying the "saint-like" version of that trope, he's all too human and flawed. I adore him.

2. Joan Watson and Sherlock Holmes from Elementary

Yes, I am cheating, but they are sold as a set do not separate 🤷

I just love both of them. I love the way they interact, and their partnership in every sense of the word. They're funky and unapologetic about it, and they can be sharp and vindictive, but they can also be so, so soft and caring, both to each other and to others.

3. Jaime Lannister from Game of Thrones

He's slick and snarky and talented. He's in a nasty codependent romance with his sister. He's incredibly insecure yet incredibly cocky. He's so so brave and stupid. He's in love with Brienne and shows it by giving her a sword. He's a hot mess. Just a complete disaster of a human. I love it. I want to study him in a jar.

4. Sam from Lord of the Rings

He's a cinnamon roll, does this need more explanation? 🤷

5. Leslie Knope from Parks and Rec

She never, ever gives up, and she believes so hard in making the world a better place, and she loves her friends so much, and.... She's just inspiring. She's a character who gives me energy and makes me feel like things can get better and good people can make a difference.

6. Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit

My boy 🥹 He is fierce and loyal and cunning, and he's got a temper and can somehow get away with scolding people twice his size. The bitch energy is at epic levels, and yet he's also somehow so caring. He is an icon, a legend. We can only aspire to such sass and love as is packed in this tiny man.

7. Basil from The Great Mouse Detective

He's ridiculously cute and smart. I love how he pretty much adopted Dawson as His within like 5 seconds of meeting him. He's also a secret softie, getting all testy with Olivia only to pretty much immediately cave when she starts crying. Plus he's Sherlock Holmes as a mouse. Only wins here.

8. Richard from Galavant

He's a pathetic noodle of a man who's committed horrible atrocities by his own admission, yet he still manages to make you want to give him a hug. What a disaster man. I adore him.

9. Alan Grant from Jurassic Park/World

He's got a PhD but can't figure out a seat belt. He's clearly madly in love with Ellie but takes like 30 years to admit that he'd rather have her than his career. Yet again, a complete disaster. Are you sensing a pattern?

10. Bek from Gods of Egypt

Yes, I know this movie has problems, first and foremost the whitewashing, but I can't help it 🙈 Bek in particular is just 👌 He's so determined and spunky. He says cheesy one-liners to himself while stealing from literal gods. He's blasphemous to the gods' faces. The love of his life is killed and his immediate response is to blackmail a god into bringing her back to life. He's lucky and brash. I love him.

No pressure tagging:

@the-chickenshit-oddity @lassiesspanishaccent @lenievi @figsandfandoms @51kas81 @mourningroutine @underture @lovethistoomuch

You don't have to if you don't want to, but if you do - tag! You're it!

#tag game #characters #fandoms #why are so many of mine men?#huh

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roleplayfinder · 3 months

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🌧️🪻🕯️🔮 Hello friends!

Looking for 20+ only. No minors, no exceptions.

Advanced literate, novella style. I typically respond with 3-7 paragraphs, depending on the moment. No one liners! I don’t expect you to write a book but give me some genuine effort! I write mostly on Discord, but staying on Tumblr would be perfectly acceptable too.

I am open to romance, but it’s not a priority. Natural chemistry is the best. I only do WLW pairings in this regard. Sexual themes can be present, however, I don’t enjoy writing them in detail. If it happens, it will have to be “fade to black” only. Plantonic soulmates, found family, and sibling dynamics are very much accepted!

I’m an adult with an active life outside of roleplay. Please be patient and give me time to response. I make an effort to reply at least 2-5 times a week, but that can sometimes be slightly less.

Now then, onto the fun stuff!

I want to create a fandomless, original story with inspiration taken from various media - something soaked in high fantasy, medieval lore, magic, mythology, and more! Give me kingdoms rising and falling, epic wars, political conflict….. Let’s create something unique and watch what happens!

I would be taking inspiration from the following:

God of War: Ragnarok

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Game of Thrones

Lord of the Rings

Baldur’s Gate III

Dungeons and Dragons

Dragon Age: Inquisition

🪻

I love, love, love shared passion for our characters! Let’s rant and gush about them, get excited about the world we’re building together! Playlists, Pinterest Boards, Media inspiration, I want to see it all!

Currently, I don’t have any super specific plots in mind. I do, however, have a lot of loose ideas. Let’s brainstorm and put the pieces together!

If this sounds like you’re kind of thing, like, comment, interact with this post and I’ll be on the lookout!

🪶🌲🌳🎻⛰️🦌⚔️

#twenty and over #god of war #god of war roleplay #god of war rp #god of war: ragnarök #elder scrolls #elder scrolls roleplay #elder scrolls rp #got #got roleplay #got rp #lotr #bg3 #dnd #dragon age #dragon age: inquisition

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findroleplay · 7 months

Note

21+. She/Her. Looking for some fandom rokeplays. Please be 21+ to interact!

Prefer plotting on Tumblr and writing on Discord. Third person, past tense. Semi-lit/lit (2-4 paragraphs). Can't reply every day. Usually get responses out within 2-3 days. NSFW/smut greatly preferred (with a healthy dose of plot) but not necessary.

Only looking for canon x canon pairings. Prefer MxM and FxF ships but will take on some MxF. Prefer canon or canon divergent plots. In other words, as long as the plot makes sense within the universe, I'll generally be okay with it.

I'll be listing the muses I'm most interested in writing as for my biggest fandoms right now. I can write as more characters for each and will be listing some other fandoms I'd be okay with doing something with but don't necessarily have any muses that are specifically calling to me at the moment.

I have my favorite ships but am open to discussing any and all potential ships.

Doctor Who: Fifth Doctor, Sixth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, Eleventh Doctor, Fourteenth Doctor, Harry Sullivan, Yasmin Khan, Dhawan!Master

Fantastic Beasts: Albus Dumbledore, Theseus Scamander

Game of Thrones: Daenerys Targaryen, Margaery Tyrell, Sansa Stark, Alliser Thorne, Stannis Baratheon, Roose Bolton, Petyr Baelish, Tywin Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Robb Stark

Ghost/Clergy: Cardinal Copia, Papa Emeritus IV, Dewdrop Ghoul, Phantom Ghoul

Harry Potter: Barty Crouch Jr., Gilderoy Lockhart, Severus Snape, Cormac McLaggen, Oliver Wood, Cedric Diggory

Marvel: Peter Parker (Andrew!Peter only), Wade Wilson, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Harry Osborn (James or Dane), Loki Laufeyson, Tony Stark, Nathan Summers, Tony Masters, Bucky Barnes, Mobius, Eddie Brock, Quentin Beck

Saw: Mark Hoffman, William Schenk

Other Fandoms: Grand Theft Auto IV, House of the Dragon, House MD, Law & Order (the OG show only), The Lord of the Rings, Scream, Supernatural, The Walking Dead, The X-Files

If interested in doing something with me, please message me (preferred) or like this and I'll reach out to you.

#rp #roleplay #doctor who rp #fantastic beasts rp #game of thrones rp #ghost rp #clergy rp #harry potter rp #marvel rp #saw rp #Grand Theft Auto IV rp #House of the Dragon rp #House MD rp #Law & Order rp #The Lord of the Rings rp #Scream rp #Supernatural rp #The Walking Dead rp #The X-Files rp

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starchascr · 1 month

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𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

‘ aslıhan malbora, cis woman, she/her, 27 / 268 , high fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems MELINOE DRAVEN has finally made it to the capital, the LADY from the NIGHT COURT is said to be CHARISMATIC and is said to describe themselves with WISHING ON EVERY STAR IN THE NIGHT SKY, COURT GOSSIP AS A FORM OF CURRENCY, PAINT-SPLATTERS ON WRINKLED SILK DRESSES, CONSTANT APOLOGIES FOR BEING LOST IN YOUR OWN THOUGHTS, PEOPLE CALL YOU FICKLE & YOU LAUGH IN THEIR FACE ( WHO WOULD EVER WANT TO BE KNOWN AS PREDICTABLE? ) and with all of this in mind their CAPRICIOUS nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time.

compare to : caroline forbes ( the vampire diaries ), carrie bradshaw ( sex and the city ), sarah cameron ( outer banks ), holly golightly ( breakfast at tiffany's ), serena van der woodsen ( gossip girl ), oberyn martell ( game of thrones ), ty lee ( avatar: the last airbender ), lydia bennett ( pride & prejudice ), thor ( marvel cinematic universe ), buffy summers ( buffy the vampire slayer ), angela montenegro ( bones ), daisy buchanan ( the great gatsby ), merry brandybuck ( lord of the rings )

☾ 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 ☽

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

full name : melinoe lyra draven nicknames : mel age : 268 ( physically 27) species : high fae gender / pronouns : cis woman & she/her sexual orientation : pansexual romantic orientation : panromantic occupation : lady / aspiring painter

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

personality traits : charismatic, flighty, capricious, fickle, compassionate, brash likes : painting, revelries, star gazing, dancing, late mornings spent sleeping in, taking care of stray animals dislikes : responsibility/duty, early mornings, long travel, outfit fittings, long meetings fear(s) : death, boredom secret talents : can juggle up to 6 items, is ambidextrous goals & ambitions : to be known for art rather than the immature night court daughter memorable traits : is constantly in motion alignment : chaotic neutral label(s) : the social butterfly, the sabaist, the effervescent, the reveler vices : vanity & foolhardiness virtues : friendliness & pride

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

eye color : dark brown hair colour : dark brown hair type/style : typically worn long & wavy/curled height : 5'6 build : slender exercise habits : occasionally practices fighting, but it's rare dominant hand : left glasses/contacts : n/a tattoos : n/a scars : n/a piercings : ears pierced

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘.

father : tbd. mother : tbd. siblings : tbd draven (eldest sibling), cathal draven (elder adopted sibling), sabine draven (elder adopted sibling) children : n/a extended family : tbd. pets : far too many to name

*:･ﾟ ⸻ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

as a child, melinoe had always been a flighty thing, flitting from one interest to another. she would give each of her toys equal attention in part because she feared their jealousy should she show more affection towards one bauble over another, but partly because nothing held her attention for long. more than that, there was so much in this world to explore, and mel wanted to see and do everything. after all, why would she limit herself when the world was endless? she hated the routine and monotony that some preferred, instead enjoying creating her own worlds to play in. and when people called her fickle for bouncing around from thing to thing, she would laugh in their face. who would ever want to be known as predictable? there was something in stars that called to the girl. there was an element of wonder there, something that lent back to the fantastical child who dreamed of something more waiting for her. she always stared up at the stars at night and made up stories for made up constellations before she learned all of their names and stories. it was a game to her, making up stories. there are moments that she feels like she belongs more to the burning balls of gas that have held her fascination than to her family and friends around her. so instead she took that feeling and put it into her art, trying to capture the feeling of awe and wonder she always has every time she looks up at night. she still feels like she hasn’t fully achieved that goal no matter how many of her pieces have sold. for a girl otherwise known as fickle, art is the only thing she has ever dedicated herself to other than her family. mel seems to be constantly in motion, flitting from one thing to another. she’s compassionate, but forgetful. people shake their heads when she passes, muttering about how she’s just so immature, so young. and that’s more than true. she prides herself on being decisive, but never really stands by any sort of decision. she prefers love over war and fighting, never having really trained beyond what was necessary to her own protection. the word ‘responsibility’ is a ugly one that she hopes to never come into contact with ( though she supposes everyone must grow up some day ). if she had her way, she would spend her afternoons and early evenings painting, her nights partying, and leave her mornings for sleep. there’s nothing better than being surrounded by people, music, alcohol, and treats. and if there is no event, then she’s perfectly happy to throw one ( or rather, have someone do it for her ). ultimately, she’s just trying to live her best life.

#☾ dossier. | melinoe.#☾ all posts. | melinoe.#ofcourtfables:intro

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