#the lovely lady next to him is his (adopted) mother

[bradshawssugarbaby]

All The Pretty Girls - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by All The Pretty Girls by Kenny Chesney.

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings/content: sickeningly sweet Bob fluff.

word count: 3.1k

I'm home for the summer, shoot out the lights Don't blow my cover, oh I'm free tonight I'm coming over, call all your friends "Somebody hold me", all the pretty girls said All of the whiskey, went to my head "Shut up and kiss me", all the pretty girls said

Bob took in a deep breath as he walked up the long, dirt pathway that lead to his parents’ farmhouse. It’d been months since he’d been back in Kentucky - years, even, and as he approached the sounds of the party his family was throwing in the backyard, he felt himself fighting harder and harder to resist the overwhelming urge to turn around and run as fast as he could back to his rental car, hop in and catch the next flight back to San Diego. He contemplated the excuses he could come up with to explain his sudden disappearance, but before he had a chance to figure out the minor details, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Bobby! There’s our favourite lil pilot!”

His uncle shouted from across the yard, coming over to him with a firm slap on the shoulder as he greeted him. Bob tried not to cringe at the juvenile nickname his family still called him - he hated being called Bobby. No one back in San Diego knew him as anything other than Bob - it felt more grown up. He was the baby in his family, often called Bobby in a condescending way to remind him of how much younger he was than everyone else.

He’d been the surprise baby in the family - born unexpectedly when his mother was 37, following behind four older sisters who were 6, 8, 11 and 13 when he was born. Now, at 32, Bob felt himself recoil internally everytime someone called him that, especially if it was his family. His dozen nieces and nephews were about the only ones he’d tolerate it from, and occasionally his grandmother - who at this point was over 90 years old, and who was he to tell her no?

Bob adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, forcing a smile as he turned to face his boisterous family. Growing up, he’d always wondered if he was adopted - he was quiet, reserved, and shy - the complete opposite of everyone in his family tree. In fact, it was a running joke with his older sister Kate that he was adopted. He believed it for a while when he was 6 - it explained so much about him, or so he thought. Until, that was, the moment that his eldest sister, the often bossy and in control Jennifer, pulled out the home videos that had been recorded when Bob was born - a sight that Bob still couldn’t erase from his memory, regardless of how hard he tried to.

“I’m not so little anymore, Uncle Don,” Bob said with a sheepish smile as his uncle pulled him in for a bear hug.

“No, s’pose you aren’t now, are ya? You got yourself a little lady now, Bobby?”

“Not yet. I’ve been busy - haven’t been stateside in months, actually. This is my first chance at leave in over a year. Just never bothered taking it, I guess.”

That was a lie - Bob had taken a couple weeks leave last year, but he spent it at his home in San Diego, refreshing the decor and repainting to make it more to his tastes and basking in the peaceful quiet of his new space. He’d spent a day or two wandering around downtown San Diego with his friend, Bradley, the two of them exploring the area together - Bradley showing Bob all the sites he’d remembered from photographs and childhood memories. Bob couldn’t tell his family that though - they’d be crushed to learn that he had time off and chose not to spend it with them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see them, he was sure of it. He just didn’t want to field all the questions he knew came with each visit. Nothing was off limits to his family - his love life, relationships, his personal details - he’d lost count of how many phone calls included a casual “So, meet anyone special yet, Bobby?”. He knew they meant well, but God, was he ever tired of it.

That was the other thing he’d grown tired of - watching his language all the time. His family was religious - far more so than he’d ever been, and the idea of swearing and cursing was scandalous to them, but it was something Bob’d grown used to in his 14 years serving in the Navy, between the Academy and on base. Trying to curb it around his family members was a task in and of itself.

“Robert!” His mother's arrival interrupted his ruminations, her fervent embrace enveloping him in a maternal cocoon. "Your accent's gone already, I knew California would be bad for you," she lamented, a tinge of jest lacing her words.

“Hi Ma, missed you,” He nodded, hugging her back firmly with a smile, “Relax, Ma, I’m still a Southern boy at heart, even if I don’t sound like it. Two of the guys in my squad are from the South too. Jake’s from Texas, Bradley’s from Virginia. I’ll probably find my accent again soon now that I’m stationed with them at North Island. At Lemoore I wasn’t paired up with anyone from here.”

“Ooh, Robert,” she said softly, rubbing his shoulder as she spoke to him, “There’s someone who’s been askin’ ‘bout you.”

Bob was about to ask who it was when the question was answered for him. He turned in the direction his mother was facing and felt his cheeks flush a bright red as he saw you. You and Bob had been friends as children - best friends, in fact. You’d kept in contact over the years, but eventually, around your 24th birthdays, the hangouts became less frequent, the phone calls grew further apart and texts took longer to answer, until eventually, they stopped. Standing in front of him now, eight years later, he couldn’t imagine for the life of him why he ever stopped talking to you.

His mind raced with a million thoughts at once, visions of what life would have been like if he’d manned up and asked you out. If he’d decided to risk it all in high school and take you to prom, or if he’d asked you out when you went to university a couple hours drive away from the Naval Academy. He figured he probably would have married you, if given the chance to go back and do it again. Own a house with a big yard, a half a dozen kids running around, some just like him, with sandy blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and some just like you - a vision of beauty in his mind.

He snapped back to reality when he felt you wrap your arms around him, a wide smile spreading across your face. He hugged you firmly, not wanting to make his sudden desire to hold you close evident. For all he knew, you could be married with a family by this point - it wouldn’t be odd at all, not now in your early thirties. In fact, he felt like he was the odd one out compared to everyone he’d grown up around in Kentucky. Most of the people he’d gone to school with were parents to kids approaching third grade.

“It’s so good to see you!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you pulled back from Bob’s embrace, sporting a warm, friendly grin.

“Yeah, it’s great seeing you too. Wow, it’s uh…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Eight years, give or take.” You nodded quickly, shrugging the idea off as you met Bob’s cobalt blue eyes, finding it hard not to get yourself lost in them. He always did have the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen, framed perfectly now by silver wire framed glasses.

“How have you been?” He smiled as he guided you over towards the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and turning to look at you, “You want some sweet tea?”

“I’d love some, thanks Bob,” you nodded, remembering that he preferred going by that now that he was older.

As Bob poured two glasses of his mom’s homemade sweet tea for each of you, your eyes wandered over him, taking in the sight before you. The last time you’d seen him, Bob still resembled the teenage boy you’d crushed on throughout high school, but now, standing in his place, was a man. He stood at a solid six foot one, his blonde hair neatly combed, and a more adult style pair of wire glasses adorning his face, as opposed to the thick, dark square frames he wore throughout the time you knew him.

“I’ve been good,” you nodded slowly as you sipped the cool, brown liquid, the notes of lemon, sugar and black tea dancing on your tongue, “How about you? I heard you’re stationed out west now?”

“Yeah, I was at Lemoore, which is further north in California, but now I’m at North Island, in Coronado. Just outside of San Diego, actually. Other side of the bay.”

“How do you like it there? Bet the weather’s great, like, all the time, isn’t it? Much better than what I get out in D.C.”

“You’re in D.C. now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling softly, “Never left after college.”

Bob listened empathetically as you filled him in on everything he’d missed in your life over the past eight years. As you spoke, he couldn’t help but feel his attention wavering, not because he wasn’t interested in what you had to say, but because he couldn’t help but envision all the things that could’ve happened had he been brave enough to ask you out earlier. He wanted to kick himself for not trying for you - he’d always been fond of you. The sheer thought of you asking about him, and coming back to Kentucky to see him when he came home was enough to make him think of how much he’d screwed up before.

You felt yourself rambling nervously as you talked to Bob, trying to avoid any awkward silence between the two of you. You were so relieved to have this moment with him - just to talk to him again. You heard he was single, and you knew you still had unresolved feelings for him so when your mom had told you about the homecoming barbecue that Mrs. Floyd was planning for him, you knew you had to make the drive home, just to see what could’ve been between you both, and to see if anything remained between you.

As the night carried on, you felt yourself falling further and further for Bob - and now, you were left wondering why you hadn’t been bold enough to ask him out before. Why now, when it was the least convenient for the two of you, had to be when you realized this. You lived on the complete opposite coasts from one another - a six hour flight spanning the United States between the two of you. Although, the more time spent with Bob that evening, the more you found yourself considering taking a transfer to your job’s California office. Los Angeles was a much more doable three hour drive to San Diego - you could manage driving three hours every few days to see him if you needed to.

By 9pm, the party had dwindled down to a few members of Bob’s family, his parents, and you - everyone else having turned in for the night or headed home earlier. You, however, were staying a couple of houses away at your parents’ home, and could manage to stay as long as Bob wanted you to. He looked around the party, and, upon realizing he wouldn’t be missed anymore if he disappeared, he took you by the hand playfully, leading you to the old tree at the back of the property.

Nestled in the tree sat the treehouse you’d spent so many hours in together as kids, looking completely unchanged from when you’d last seen it. Bob smiled as he started climbing up the makeshift ladder, looking back at you with a mischievous grin - one you hadn’t seen in him since you were children.

“You comin’?” he ribbed playfully as he swung himself up into the treehouse, reaching his hand down to offer you help.

You shook your head, laughing at how ridiculous you felt, but quickly climbed your way up the tree to join him. He helped you into the treehouse, smirking at you as he adjusted his glasses. The treehouse was still decorated the way you’d left it - old toys sitting out on the table, a small toy chest full of Nerf guns and playing cards, a couple of toy cars and action figures joining them. Bob picked one of the action figures up, laughing as he held it in his hands, as if all the memories of you two playing together came flooding back at once.

“I forgot about this place,” you mused softly, your voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of forgotten treasures.

Bob nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips as he regarded the toy with a mix of fondness and amusement.

"Yeah, my nieces and nephews use it I guess sometimes. Glad to see they've left Batman intact for me though," he remarked, lifting the action figure as if to emphasize its importance.

A nostalgic chuckle bubbled up within you as you recalled the shared adventures of your childhood. "Hey, I remember that one! Batman used to come in and rescue Barbie for me all the time."

A playful glint danced in Bob's eyes as he remembered those innocent days of make-believe. "And then you insisted that Batman had to kiss Barbie."

"Listen, Barbie wanted to thank him," you protested with a playful grin, memories of imaginative play flooding back with each word.

"I think you just watched too many romcoms," Bob teased, his voice laced with affectionate banter.

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but laugh at the playful exchange, the echoes of your shared history ringing through the air. But as your laughter subsided, you found yourself drawn once more to Bob's gaze, the warmth of familiarity mingling with the weight of unspoken questions.

"Do you ever think about what would have happened if we dated in high school?" you ventured, the words hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting past and present.

"All the time, actually," Bob admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

"I always figured I'd end up marrying you," you nodded, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and sincerity as you confessed the thought that had lingered in the depths of your mind for far too long.

The air seemed to crackle with tension as your words hung in the space between you, each syllable echoing with the weight of unspoken truths and long-held desires. Across from you, Bob's expression shifted, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickering across his features before settling into a mask of gentle surprise.

The soft glow of the evening sun cast golden hues upon the scene, lending an ethereal quality to the moment as you both grappled with the revelation that hung heavy in the air. For a heartbeat, the world around you seemed to stand still, as if holding its breath in anticipation of what would come next.

Bob's gaze softened, his cobalt eyes reflecting the vulnerability mirrored in your own. "I… I never knew you felt that way," he admitted, his voice a gentle murmur against the backdrop of fading daylight.

A rush of uncertainty washed over you, mingling with the warmth of raw honesty that spilled from your lips. "I think I just, pushed it away, you know? I didn’t want us to stop being friends over it or anything as kids." you confessed, your words a whispered confession carried on the breeze.

Silence enveloped you once more, punctuated only by the distant chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. In the quiet of the moment, the weight of unspoken possibilities hung heavy between you, a delicate dance of hope and fear weaving its way through the air.

Then, with a soft exhale, Bob reached across the space between you, his hand finding yours with a gentle certainty that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "Maybe… maybe we should talk about this," he suggested, his voice tentative yet filled with a quiet resolve.

As his fingers intertwined with yours, you felt a surge of courage swell within your chest, buoyed by the warmth of his touch. With a nod, you met his gaze, the tension hanging in the air melting away as you closed the distance between the two of you, locking your lips with his in a gentle, tender kiss.

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of pure connection. His lips met yours with a softness that belied the depth of emotion coursing between you, igniting a spark that set your heart ablaze.

The sensation of his breath mingling with yours sent shivers cascading down your spine, each touch igniting a symphony of sensations that danced across your skin like a gentle breeze. In that fleeting instant, you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, the weight of the world falling away as you surrendered to the intoxicating pull of desire.

The soft murmur of the evening breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it the promise of a new beginning as you reveled in the sweetness of the moment. His arms enveloped you in a tender embrace, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies, only the shared warmth of your intertwined souls.

For a heartbeat, the world ceased to exist beyond the two of you, each touch a testament to the depth of feeling that bound you together. In the embrace of his arms, you found solace, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of life's uncertainties. As you finally pulled away, the ghost of his touch lingered on your lips, a lingering reminder of the passion that pulsed between you.

Bob’s cheeks flushed bright red, and he began to stutter as he spoke, a trait he’d long grown out of. “I, uh, I…um, that was…something,” he managed to spit out before beginning to ramble about how much he enjoyed kissing you.

“Bob,” you began, laughing softly as your hand gently rested on his cheek.

“Mhmm?”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

#bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fic #robert floyd #bob floyd

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the sun

Next chapter

a/n not what I originally wanted to put out but today this hit my head so a little something to smooth us in. AND This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨🤍

summary: an arrival of a new sibling get a bit too overwhelming for Azriel's youngest daughter.

warning: past trauma related to wing clipping.

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Zofie's pov:

She was ecstatic. Mother knew she had told every soul that was willing to listen to her about how she was going to become a sister. An older sister. How happy she was to no longer be the youngest. To be able to pull the same proud older sibling card, the same one that Axel used when Zofie had achieved even the smallest of things. It was easy to love like that because all she had known ever since she had met you and ever since she had seen Azriel was love. She knew because that feeling was always fuzzy. Always somewhat pink with tints of purple. It grew different in the saturation of colors, but it was always so delicate.

She doted over the idea of another element unifying you all as a family. Yes, she was content when it was just you four. Always had been. Even back in the sanctuary. There was something that told her that this was the endgame. That you all were always meant to find one another. Then Granny took them in for almost a month. Zofie still remembered how confused she had been when you and Azriel hadn't shown up the next morning. "Your parents are mates; they accepted the bond and need a bit of time... till it... well... settles," Cordelia had told them over breakfast.

And Zofie had loved seeing the new shades of gold that now constantly swirled around her two parents. Even when she drowned it out, the sheen stayed. And oh, how she had adored her lavender dress at the mating ceremony. How she had loved the fact that even though this was supposed to be a day about you two, Azriel had pulled Axel and her aside and made a separate vow, as a dad, just for them. Azriel was her yellow. Had always been. She had found it strange. Alarming even at first. Because no one, not even you, possessed a color like that. But then she realized that it wasn't a sign of warning. It was a sign that, just like a flower, she had to lean towards the sun. Toward the light. Towards her yellow.

She also remembered the day you two had sat them down. To tell them about the babe. "Well", you had breathed out, sparkling eyes gazing up at Azriel, who had been smiling like a fool. Never had Zofie seen him smiling like that. "Are we finally getting that black cat?", she had asked like a real kid, eager to drag the stray home. You had chuckled, "Not yet, but I'm working on it", since truly it had been Azriel who hadn't been on board with the idea. She watched Azriel moving closer to you, clasping your shoulders lovingly. She remembered how she had gazed at Axel, meeting his confused gaze.

The her dad let out a content sigh, "You two are getting another sibling", such simple sentence and yet the room exploded in a rainbow of colors for Zofie as she let out a squeal, grabbing onto Axel's hand. "Another kid from the camps?", Axel had frowned however. Most of them had been taken down. Only tightly monitored ones were allowed to stay put. And only with weekly reports sent to Rhys and then approved by the three Illyrians and the high lady. "No", Azriel had said softly as your hands had shifted to tighten the material of your dress that now shaped a slight bump. Zofie was convinced that Axel and her looked like two dead fishes up on the shore. Mouths gapping. Eyes big. "Surprise", you whispered as a smile broke out on your face. "Fuck yeah", Axel chuckled forward, embracing you in a tight hug. "Language, boy", Azriel reminded Axel as they clasped hands both smiling so much their cheeks had to aching.

"Mom", Zofie had muttered out, eyes full of tears. "You will be a big sister", Azriel had cupped her cheek lovingly. "That's so amazing", and she was genuinely happy. So happy. "We will knit things and oh, papa, we need to carve that crib and...", she knew she was ranting but the emotions. So many emotions... Azriel had wrapped her up in his arms. Drowning out the sounds immediately, "We'll do it all. You and me. Will make it special, my little star".

But what frightened Zofie now that she had returned after fetching some stew that Cordelia had made for your post labor recovery was that something had shifted. She didn't see it at first. Too focused on not spilling the food in the bowl. Too eager to watch you eat something. To see the colors that surround you growing brighter. Because the labor had taken so much out of you. Too much even. But now... Now she was dang happy she wasn't holding anything in her arms as she brought her gaze up because it would have clattered to the floor. Zofie had barely sucked in a breath. Her whole body was seized. Her dad sat in a rocking chair, one they had both carved. The baby was cradled against his bare chest as Azriel rocked back and forth slowly, humming beneath his breath.

"Papa", her voice was barely a whisper, but it had always been enough. Azriel had always heard her. It was always enough for him to stop doing whatever he was doing, just... His eyes didn't shift upward to meet Zofie. He did hum beneath his breath in acknowledgment, but...

Zofie tightened her fist. That would have been fine. She could understand it. The baby had been born a house ago, but it was the color that had shifted... "Papa," Zofie called out once more, feeling that same overwhelming sensation building up in her chest. "Isn't she pretty, huh?", was what Azriel had said in return as he shifted the newborn in his arm, pulling the baby that fit in his palm away from his chest so he could admire her. A wave of love crashed into Zofie's shields. Such an insufferable amount of love. Love had nothing to do with her. Zofie let out a shaky breath. As the bits of yellow dusted away from Azriel's aura.

"I want to hold her too," Axel's voice sounded from behind her, making Zofie twist back to look at her brother, who had stepped into the room. She was supposed to feel as full of love as everyone else, but watching Azirel carefully lower Novie into Axel's arms made Zofie's guts twist. Novie. Why pick a name that sounded like a better version of her own name. "Support the head," Azriel said gently, teaching his son on how to properly hold the youngest addition of the family, "That's amazing, and be careful with the wings." Another wave of emotions plunged into Zofie. Wings. Mother, that girl was perfect. Perfect in ways Zofie would never be. She never particularly cared that she didn't have wings. She didn't remember what it felt like to have them. Thwy had been ripped out by her father the moment she was born. But no one wished any harm to Novie. No, she would have a loving family from her first breath. He first cry. A perfect girl for a perfect family. And she was Azriel's blood. She had bits of Azriels. Features that would no doubt always make him smile. Because he would stop and see you, see himself in her. Zofie could sense slithers of green twisting around her own aura. She was jealous. Jealous of a newborn that was an unflawed version of her. Same dark hair. Same perfect skin. Just she wasn't cracked or marked.

A warm hand reached out for her, and Zofie instantly pulled back. "Zo, babe, is everything okay?", your gentle eyes looked up at her. Zofie forced on a smile, reaching back to you because she knew if she pulled back fully, it would alarm you, and she couldn't. Couldn't bring herself to hurt you. "Granny wanted some help downstairs; I will come up shortly.", the lie came so easily that it was alarming. Your warm palm cupped her cheek. "Thank you for being here with me today," you muttered softly. Zofie bit the inside of her cheek. Fighting the tears as she nodded. She didn't even spare a glance at her father and brother as she walked out. She had stopped to linger by the door. Was hoping for someone to ask her to stay. To do anything, but all she was greeted with was gentle laughter that only clawed at her heart more.

Hurrying down the stairs, she nearly tripled over her own feet. Barely catching herself on the railing. "Careful, love," Cordelia called out, her hands holding the basket filled with bloody sheets. Zofie simply nodded. Her hand reached for the doorknob instantly. Yet her hand stilled for a heartbeat as she looked over the door frame. Looking for Azriel's shadows. Ones that always followed her around. Ones that were always just for her. But she found none. "Zofie," her grandma called after not getting a response to her warning. Zofie knew the decision had to be made right here and now. A heartbeat of thinking too long, and she would... Without allowing another thought to simmer, Zofie yanked the door open. The cold winter breeze hit her face. And then she ran. Her feet slipped through the snowed-on rocks. As she ran and ran and ran, as the ringing in her ears drummed.

Nyx's pow

He could have stayed back in the camp as his father came to fetch Axel when YN had gone into labor, but Nyx always wanted to come back home. There was always a pull. An ache that only eased enough when he was in Velaris. That disappeared when everyone was in the room. Sitting in one of the fancy armchairs, the princeling continued to scribble as his parents talked in the background. He used to be a noisy boy, trying to listen in but as of lately none of their conversations interested him.

Just like his mother, Nyx reached for the brushes as soon as he could hold one properly. After that, his sketchbook was always close by. Simply because at times the visions and ideas would get so overwhelming that he had to put them down on paper. And he was just casually doodling flowers and swirls when an urge to draw a river bank hit him. Nyx was almost sure that he could hear the water roaring. The snow crunching beneath the feet. It was messy the way his pen arched out trees and snow. But it was almost as if he couldn't scratch an itch. One that was followed by an urge to fly. It happened at times more often than not as of lately. But he never gave it much thought. Illyrians were born with the sound of wind blowing within their hearts. So the need to be up in a sky wasn't anything strange.

So Nyx was up and walking towards the stained glass door, the pen and sketchbook forgotten. His wings were already ready for takeoff. "Nyx, where are you going?", Feyre's soft voice had made him halt. "Just for a fly," he said bluntly. "It's snowing," Rhys chirped in. "That had never stopped you, dad." Nyx rolled his eyes, stepping closer to his mother. "I will be back in no time; don't worry, ma." Nyx pressed a kiss on his mother's temple before turning back.

Usually, he never had a specific place he flew to on his night cruise, but tonight, the south bank of the river was exactly where he knew he had to be. The wind was painfully sharp tonight. That icy, rain-like wind. That felt like thousands of needless digging against one's skin.

Nyx would have flown over with no care if he hadn't seen the same oak trees that he had been scratching just before he leaped out of the balcony. His breath hitched. His heart was drumming in his ear. Because a part of him... He dove down, running the last couple of meters as his feet hit the ground with an impact. "Zo," he breathed under his breath. Chest heavy, "Zofie," he said much louder. The girl turned back, holding herself up against the tree. His skin was pale blue, and her wild swept black hair frozen over at the tips. "Hey, hey," Nyx breathed out, hands up, as he approached the younger female as if trying not to spook her even more. "Nyx," Zofie's voice was raspy and frail. Too raspy. Too frail. Something primal rippled deep within the princeling's chest.

"Hey," he called out softly, his hands reaching out for her. "Fuck, look at me," Nyx softly moved to cup her face, her ink-black pupils stared right at him. Not Zofie. An ancient spirit stared up at him instead. "You're freezing..." Nyz moved his warm palms over Zofie's icy arms, trying to soothe the skin. "Zo, what..." he muttered, looking around. Trying to find anything. A threat. Danger. Attack. Wildlife. He wasn't sure, "Why are you here?" but his question was met with Zofie's icy fingers gripping his arms. "Nyx," she called out. "I'm here. I've got you. It's okay," he reassured her. "Come on," Nyx wrapped both his arms and wings around Zofie, shielding her from the cold. He let his warmth seep into her. She felt so good in his arms. His mother had always joked about how he had been enamored by Zofie from the moment they met. They laughed it off as a childish crush, but they didn't know that the feelings hadn't changed.

But then a harsh wave of reality hit Nyx, "Does Uncle know you're here?" He knew that Azriel wouldn't harm him. Not really, at least. But Zofie was his everything. Nyx had rather a hard time forming a relationship with his uncle because they had never reached common ground as far as Zofie was concerned. She sagged in his arms, and Nyx swiftly scooped her up. She was tiny compared to him. And weigh no more than a feather. "Zo, what the fuck?", he growled, feeling the worry growing with him. But she didn't answer him. Curling deeper into his embrace. Her palm rested against his chest, right over his heart. He didn't know what he was thinking, but as he pushed back from the ground, Nyx knew that they weren't going home.

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Taglist: @justdreamstars

#nyx x oc #nyx x zofie #acotar imagine #acotar x oc #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #nyx imagine #nyx x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader

[two-white-butterflies]

invisible string | m33 | part four

Description: You and Max finally get together. Someone makes him jealous.

Pairing: max verstappen/racer!reader

part two | part three

itsmee_yn: gorgtastic sleepover with mrs. wolff 💚

912 comments 923,283 likes

ingridwolff: is that my mom? 😭 - itsmee_yn: she's my mom now

archiesantosa21: the mercedes girls back with each other OMG

lewiswolff89: BABE WAKE UP L/N-WOLFF PICTURES JUST DROPPED......

lewishamilton: I hope Toto knows that you're using his house. - itsmee_yn: toto doesn't have instagram now, does he?

Max couldn't believe that you chose to spend time with him. He's always admired you - even when you were little kids. Even though his father wouldn't stop comparing him to you - he didn't hate you. Instead, he chose to believe that you were a creature of the gods.

Something perfect and talented.

"I'll be back with Prema next week." you stared deep into his eyes, taking a sip of your strawberry milkshake before releasing a sigh. The premise of being unemployed was amazing, having financial freedom was also amazing. Thanks to your skill in buying and selling land, you didn't need to work for the next decades.

But work was life.

You couldn't live without work - and thus, you'd be spending less time with your best friend. Heck, you didn't even know if you were allowed to call Max that. You were best friends but you knew deep inside that you could be more than that.

"I'll miss you," he mumbled while playing with the sand. "I'll miss you too," you replied even when your heart was saying: I love you.

"It'll probably be a while until we see each other again. I need to focus on our talents actually," you smiled softly - knowing that the drivers that you mentored had potential in making it to Formula One. "Don't tell them our tricks, I don't want anyone beating me." he humored.

You laid on the cloth-covered sand, feeling the heat radiate throughout your body. "Idiot," you mumbled while closing your eyes. You could feel him slowly lay down beside you.

"Do you ever think about getting married?" he pondered.

Your eyes opened wide.

That was the moment you knew - he loved you.

itsmee_yn: lord ur making it too obvious that i'm one of your favorites. with @maxverstappen1

128 comments 1,201,239 likes

maxverstappen1: ❤️

lewishamilton: God doesn't have an instagram. fyi 😁 - itsmee_yn: satan does and he's replying to me rn - - lewishamilton: 😅

danielricciardo: Y/N manifested this, and I'm a witness.

badgalriri: I love this.

kimimatiasraikkonen: congratulations 👍🏻

maxverstappen1: exposing my good luck charm.

912 comments 1,291,123 likes

danielricciardo: ugly

itsmee_yn: ❤️

landonorris: there's kids on this app. - itsmee_yn: no one asked - - maxverstappen1: man fuck them kids 🤣

(FOUR YEARS LATER)

Y/N's Story

caption: he's stressed ladies and gentlemen.

replies landonorris: take care of your kids pookie itsmee_yn: I AM landonorris: you making max work itsmee_yn: as he should

maxverstappen1: emillia and papa swimming 🌊

128 comments 812,128 likes

danielricciardo: EMILLIA IS ADORABLE

lewishamilton: proud godfather, present! - hasduhu19: Lewis only comments this way on Y/N and Max's accoutns it's adowable 😭

itsmee_yn: Carlton hates water lowkey - maxverstappen1: probably because his mom doesn't take a bath - - itsmee_yn: slandering ur wife in public is a federal offense

ynprivateaccount: will serve, will kneel, will kadoodle 24/7 with only peeing as rest 😭

badgalriri: Y/N WHAT IS THIS? - ynprivateaccount: remind me to delete this account when emillia turns 10 😭

(MONACO, FOUR SEASONS HOTEL)

itsmee_yn: poolside in monaco 🇲🇨 photo credits: @maxverstappen1

119 comments 1,291,120 likes

alano129: MOM? adopt me pls

ynuniverse: you age backwards 😭

Being the mother of two kids was hard work. It didn't help with the fact that they both had mischievous personalities.

Emillia was curious about everything - always poking things that she shouldn't be touching, while Carlton wanted to taste every solid food in existence. You had no idea how the family processed.

But thank god that you were still alive.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the pool?" Lewis asked, exiting his hotel room with Roscoe trailing behind him. "Yeah but I forgot to bring the kids' towels," you smiled, placing the keycard inside your bag. "It's been forever since I've seen Roscoe," you cooed at the dog.

"You look like him in a certain angle," he teased earning an eye-roll.

"Keep lying to yourself, Hamilton."

"Don't go to the deep parts," you warned Emillia, settling the towels on the poolside bed. "Don't worry, I have it handled." Max comforted - knowing that you get paranoid around the water. You smile softly, laying on the chair and allowing the sun to tan you slightly.

You've heard stories about husbands being a nightmare after kids - but Max was a dream come true. He respected your decisions, he did things without asking - and he provided more than the bare minimum. Gods, you'd give everything to marry him again and again.

"Is it your first time in Monaco?" a man suddenly clears his throat from beside you - prompting you to remove your sunglasses. "Well, not really." you answered plainly - not trying to make an enemy of the guy but still making it clear that you weren't interested.

"How many times have you been?" he sat on the chair beside you. "A few times," you answered while popping your sunglasses back in. He looked like young - in his early twenties, so he was probably an aspiring driver attempting to network his way inside Prema Racing. "For racing, or do you watch?" he inquired again.

Did he not recognize you? Shit, you felt like one of those American influencers that everyone ignores. You saw it coming anyways, it's almost been a decade since you've been inside the tracks. "I watch sometimes," your lips pressed into a thin line and he began to take his mobile phone out.

"I-I'm sorry if I sound creepy, but I think that you're pretty and I'd love to have your number." he stuttered softly and you took of your glasses again. "That's nice, but I'm married. What's your name anyways?" you tried to sweeten the situation but by this point - his face was entirely covered in a red blush.

"I'm sorry, I'm gonna go now." he sprinted away from you.

itsmee_yn: monaco, you are kind. 🇲🇨

921 comments 1,129,120 likes

lewishamilton: Carlton is the cutest

landonorris: The Verstappen genes are too strong. - maxverstappen1: 💪🏽

badgalriri: 3rd slide 😳

"- and the guy comes to her and asks for her number." Hamilton finishes telling the story and Norris bursts out laughing. "Looks like Max has some competition," he began to tease his friend.

"Don't think that he's the only one - because I saw those moms eyeing him in the pool." you pointed out, defending your husband's honor before any of the drivers have a chance to poke fun at him. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd become a cougar, Y/N." Daniel giggled - while you flashed him your middle finger.

maxverstappen1: never forgetting this

129 comments 1,291,102 likes

itsmee_yn: how does it feel to live for the sole purpose of bullying me? - maxverstappen1: i'm fine hbu?

danielricciardo: SOMEONE STOP ME - maxverstappen1: No thanks. 💪🏽

lewishamilton: fuck, boys. 😜 - itsmee_yn: i'm a mother now, lewis. :(( - - landonorris: i'm not so fuck boyz 🥵

victoriaverstappen: I met Y/N and Carlton today. (Emillia did not want to take a picture) ❤️

128 comments 129,912

maxuniverse123: DEAR LORD THE CHILD LOOKS LIKE MAX

itsmee_yn: would love to have you anytime vic <3

ynandmaxverstappen: the way that she had to note that emillia didn't want to take a picture because of the haters

maxverstappen1: 💪🏽❤️

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @milaeth @msliz @lifesuckslife @ellamae021 @1-800-simpingcowbaby @trashcanrat @ccallistata @shouq @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @georgeparisole @allenajade-ite @eternalharry @messwithtess21 @benbarneslut @withyoutilltheendofthismess @omgsuperstarg @stillbreathinq @mishaandthebrits @lemonsinpanic @styles-sunflower @cassiesworldsworld @1655-1485 @hachrinnen @luanasrta @fdl305 @reidsworld @sarahedwards16 @peargasleeeee @imsorare @sinofwriting @cassiesworldsworld @bibissparkles @larastark3107

#max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x female reader #f1 fics #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

[blueiight]

in the book, i think paul’s death , the frenieres and their connection via slavery are more important mortals to book louis than his sister or mother. they both remain unnamed figures, tertiary symbols for how immortality and time strip u away from the mortal sphere. we have kalyne’s acting and the show to thank for making her a complex character.

the show elevates the entire du lac family dynamic imo, paul’s one-dimensional fanaticism becomes a compelling sort of religious psychosis - a mad black man clinging to faith in a world that gave him very few other options. the ‘asylum in jackson’ at their time was a segregated facility that made their patients build the infrastructure themselves. the last sunrise book louis saw of his sleeping sister becomes the last sunrise show louis saw - his younger brother killing himself the morning after his sister’s wedding.

paul is also an introduction for the ‘roles louis (and paul, who is unable to) has to play’. unable to mask, paul propositions a lady of the night with the word of god. louis, who ‘did not want to draw a knife on [his] brother, but couldnt afford to look weak on liberty’, threatens paul. lestat is seduced not by the act alone, but the tempest in louis’s mind as he commits it. it is paul’s suicide that is the last time louis sees the sunrise, and grace + florence’s subsequent responses to it that drive louis in the drunken haze he was in before/while being turned. with the loss of paul, louis is the sole ‘aberration’ of their family while grace is the ‘good sister’ as kalyne coleman worded it.

grace’s arc in the show is rendered a fascinating parallel to louis’s. as pointed out in many gifsets + the like, grace is married proper while louis has a bloody vow of immortality in st. augustine’s. also grace, whos able to be properly married with children of her own, her expected role as a (cis) woman of her age, v. louis, whos rendered an immortal placee, who nearly eats his own nephew and weeps bc he cannot have ‘children of his own’ (unlike grace, is whats unsaid).

he desires to have a family to complete his companionship, and also to be in an ‘aberrant’ role for a man of his age. louis, in his adoption of claudia in the next episode, then brings her to the first time to his mother’s funeral, with a ‘family of his own’ to protect him from his mortal family’s dispute.

grace is also rendered a sort of babette here, as a mortal observer to louis’s immortality, who watches him be gradually removed from their day, and ends up parting with louis on vaguely similar notes - fear of the devil in louis.

but where babette was terrified of book louis (& lestat, though she gave no indication of knowing they were both there) bc of his oppressive hunting of the people in his capture, bc louis+ lestat were threatening her for a way to escape to new orleans; grace in the show was burying the memory of the brother she once had, lost to the abstract devil that is immortality. its a coda, a sequel of sorts to the confrontation at the du lac mansion in episode 3, where florence calls louis the devil. grace buries louis with him standing there. the makeup is dubious, but grace is meant to be older as indicated by her attire + dialogue (“prayed myself old thinkin bout u”). babette’s departure from the narrative segways claudia’s entry, but in the show, grace’s departure from the narrative marks a turning point for claudia and louis. claudia watching louis weep over his own grave makes her believe she was ‘made to be louis’s sister’, and louis losing his last mortal connection marks a turning point that opens him for further abuse that very episode ends on.

all of this is to say this is an extremely compelling depiction of siblinghood, and how love can be lost and/or estranged between family.

#yn. #iwtv #tvc #louis de pointe du lac #grace de pointe du lac #paul de pointe du lac #claudia #☀️

[strongheartneteyam]

I wish I could

Chapter 2

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!curvy!human reader

Neteyam is aged up.

CW: lots of fluff, childhood friends to lovers, reader loves na'vi children so much and dreams about being a mom one day, angst, the whole Sully family loves reader (including Neteyam but she doesn't know that yet lol)

Author's note: as this is an Avatar AU, reader doesn't need a mask to breathe Pandora's air and not die. Maybe because she was born there, never left and was adopted by a na'vi woman since she was a really small child, she was gradually exposed to Pandora's environment and some kind of mutation happened, so she can breathe, because her body adapted to survive in the planet without the need of a technological device. Idk if it makes sense at all honestly, but, what the hell, fanfics are supposed to be fun and not make 100% of sense, so... just try to not think too much about it n enjoy ahaha

♡

Chapter 1

♡

"Oh my God, such a cute little thing you are" You said while squeezing Tuk in your arms. Even though she was bigger than you because she was a na'vi child after all, you held her like a human toddler. You loved her so much, as if she was your own child. And she loved you too. She was giggling so happily while you squeezed her tight. She was so fond of you that Neytiri would always leave you to take care of her when she left for a hunt. She trusted you, thought you were a really good kid. And you were known in the tribe for helping na'vi mothers with their children. From babies to pre-teens.

You thought Neytiri to be such a beautiful and wise na'vi woman. You desired to be like her one day. You also wanted to have a big beautiful family like hers but that thought would always soon turn from a happy one to one that filled you with angst and sorrow. You were just a human after all, left to the care of a sweet na'vi lady after your parents died in a battle against the Sky People when they came back to Pandora once again. Those horrible days are over now, thank Eywa. Your biology was so different from the na'vi that you didn't even know if it was possible for you to get pregnant from mating with a na'vi male. There are couples of a na'vi and a human out there but none of them ever tried to conceive a hybrid child. The closer someone got to it was the Sully kids who have na'vi and human blood running in their veins but their father had an Avatar body, not a human one, so, it's technically not the same. Why couldn't you just marry a human guy and have a human child?, you may ask. Well, you never knew how to say it without sounding weird but you never felt attracted to the males of your own species. They just looked so plain and boring next to the na'vi men, so passionate, family-oriented and fearless. And also, you couldn't deny that the way they towered over you and their blue skin that shone in the dark because of their freckles played a big part in your feelings too. Yeah, that will never not sound pervy.

You wished you could just mate with the na'vi you fell in love with, but you didn't even know if Neteyam would ever look at you that way. Your small, soft frame might look weird to him. Specially since you were really curvy and a bit fat even for human standards. But still, you dreamt about his big hands touching your skin and his blue beautiful lips kissing yours, so tenderly. Sometimes you woke up and cried, realizing it was indeed just a dream and you were alone laying in your mat.

The na'vi woman you learned to call "mom", Ao'ite, took you as if you had been born from her womb, she always showed you love and took great care of you. And even though she was a great mother to you and you loved her so very much, you never felt like it was enough. It pained you to say it because it sounded ungrateful and even cruel, but you always wondered what it would be like if your parents hadn't die. You didn't remember them, since you were only 2 years old when the murders happened, but you always thought that if they had raised you, maybe you would feel like you belonged somewhere. You loved Pandora and would always call it your one and only home, felt so connected to the trees, animals and oceans, but you would never be a na'vi girl. You could never tame and have your own Ikran or go through any important and beautiful thing only the na'vi can do. That crushed your heart.

You were so lost in your thoughts and immersed on Tuk's little laughs, in a mix of sweetness and sadness, that you didn't even notice how Neytiri's and Jake's older son was looking at you. Neteyam had a spark in his amber eyes when he looked at you holding his little sister. He thought you looked so beautiful and motherly when you played with her. He thought you'd be a great mother one day. He knew how much you wanted to have a family and he only wishes he could be your mate and give you little na'vi children. The smile that was adorning his lips died a bit and he looked away. He didn't know if you found him a suitable mate or if you were just disgusted by how different and odd he looked compared to humans. It hurt him to think maybe you could never reciprocate his feelings. He has loved you since you guys were little kids and he saw your - then weird to him - appearance. He was puzzled in the beginning but with only an hour playing together with you, running through the forest, just close enough so his grandma wouldn't lose sight of the two of you, he found his little heart beating fast inside his chest. And it wasn't just because he had been running, he realized. It was because he knew that you were the one he was gonna chose to be his mate, to spend the rest of his life with, no matter how different from him you looked. What confused him in the beginning was now the most beautiful sight to behold. And it never changed. 15 years later, when you're now both 20 and not 5 anymore, he still looked at you like you were the Pandora skies at night. So beautiful and enchanting to look at. He could look at you for hours, and sometimes he almost did, while you were sitting somewhere in the middle of the people, when they reunited to have meals together at night. You were close enough for him to be able to look at you but far enough for him to not be noticed and perceived as a creep to you.

One day Jake sat next to his elder son and realized who he was looking at. He told his son you were a great girl and he should try courting you if he liked you. Neteyam was shy in the beginning and even denied he was looking at you but his dad knew him far too well so, seconds after that, Neteyam sighed and told his father that he truly loved you and wanted you to be his mate. Jake smiled. That reminded him of what he felt when he was being taught the na'vi ways by Neytiri and fell in love with her. He was immeasurably happy when he realized she loved him too. He just wants his son to be happy and he was glad he had chosen you. Jake always felt something good coming from you. You were like him when he was still stuck in his human body: you loved the na'vi ways more than the human ways and wanted to be one of them. He just wishes it wasn't so dangerous for you to be transfered to an Avatar body. You had once told him you would try, just so you could feel like you were one of the people. But in Jake's heart you were and would always be one of them, even if you were a tiny human girl. And he knew most na'vi felt the same about you. You were really loved by the people.

Neteyam looked at you again, as you were holding his little sister's hands and she was asking you to let her braid your hair. You smiled and said yes and she smiled even wider and started touching your hair. You had beautiful, soft hair and it would always end up a bit entangled when Tuk would braid it. She was a child and was still learning so her braiding skills were still not on point. But you didn't care. You always let her braid your hair and would sit patiently while she did. And you would wear the braids she would make for days, even if they looked a bit funny. It was so special to you how that precious na'vi child showed so much love towards you. Such an innocent little soul. You wished so hard that one day you could have your own na'vi child braiding your hair. Na'vi babies were the cutest thing you had ever seen. Even though you would look enormous carrying a na'vi baby in your belly (if that could ever happen, in your wildest dreams) and you probably would feel so heavy and bloated, you just knew without a shadow of doubt that you would love that child more than you loved your own life and die for the little being if you needed to. To protect them from any harm.

Little did you know you had a na'vi in front you willing to give you as many na'vi babies as you'd let him. Neteyam loved you so much it hurt. And little did he know you loved him too. And little did you both know that having a hybrid child was actually possible.

•.°☆•.°☆•.°

Sooo... it's my first fanfic in English and it's not my first language so please be gentle with me and forgive me for any mistakes. This story is gonna have more parts written soon. I'm thinking of writing some smut within the story and maybe put some breeding kink coming from Neteyam and his human loving it. What do you guys think? Would you want me to? Tell me in the comments haha Please, like and/or reblog this post if you like it. Love you guys 💙

#avatar x human reader #avatar x you #avatar fanfiction #avatar fic #avatar fandom #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #neteyam x human reader #avatar pandora #avatar au #avatar james cameron #avatar 2009 #avatar twow #na'vi x human #na'vi reader #na'vi avatar #na'vi clan #neteyam x female reader #na'vi x y/n #na'vi x reader #na'vi x female reader #na'vi curvy reader #neteyam x curvy reader #neteyam x chubby reader #na'vi x chubby reader #neteyam sully x curvy reader #neteyam sully x chubby reader #Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan #kxamtxomaw writes

[tragedybunny]

A Merry Little Solstice - Astarion x F!Reader - BG3HolidayFluffle23 - Prompt: Chosen Family

So excited to participate in the Challenge, not sure if I'll get to more than one piece but I love this one I did. Thanks to @rachelle-on-the-run for the Beta!

Summary: Even though you and Astarion have been together a few years, this is the first time you'll be celebrating Solstice together, for a very special reason. The two of you are doing your best to make it a warm and wonderful celebration.

“What do you think?” Astarion is fussing over the distribution of small, glass ornaments and candles on the large pine tree taking up most of your parlor. 

“I think it looks wonderful, Star.” You can already see his tendency for the grandiose creeping in, and don’t want him to worry about overdoing it. At least you’d convinced him to close down the bookshop, the two of you ran out of the building next door for a few days while you celebrate. It was a newer venture that you had taken on lately, as you’d settled down in Baldur’s Gate after a few years of adventuring. 

“I suppose, the tree could be a bit bigger, though,” he mumbles, shifting a few of the baubles around. All the effort, and probably a good amount of nerves, making him prickly. 

“It’s plenty big, and Jaheira didn’t have to grow it for us.” The pine had been a little seedling, given the growth of years in moments by Druid magic. 

“Well, it was Mother’s idea in the first, so we could celebrate Solstice properly.” Mother, he says sarcastically, like he doesn’t grin when she calls him nicknames or get teary-eyed when she hugs him good-bye to go out on Harper business. There wasn’t any grand declaration when Jaheira decided she was adopting Astarion with the rest of her brood, but there was no stopping her from embracing it when she’d made up her mind. Not that it hasn’t done him a world of good, even if he doesn’t always like to admit it. 

“My Love, it was your idea to actually celebrate Solstice this year.” Astarion had, until this year, not been very fond of Holidays. A stance you decided you could live with, as your own experiences hadn’t been very warm and wonderful. This year, though, things were different. “The tree looks wonderful,”  a sudden little squeal followed by soft babbling came from the bassinet behind you, “and Estelle thinks so too.” It was Estelle’s first Solstice, and you both had decided it was time to make some better Holiday memories. 

Astarion hurries to retrieve her before she can demand it. He’s notorious for baby hoarding, and sometimes you have to remind him it’s your turn to hold the child you gave birth too. “You’re hardly qualified to have an opinion, Sweetie.” He wags his finger in front of her nose, and she grabs it quickly in return with a happy little trill, refusing to let go. 

When you’d first been able to lay eyes on her, it was already apparent she was a miniature version of Astarion, his features, pale skin, and wispy white hair that had grown into the beginnings of lush curls. The only thing that looked like you were bright blue eyes, which had relieved him to no end. “Red eyes would mark her as different far too obviously.” It was nice to see one part of yourself in her, though you didn’t mind that she was so much of him. 

Estelle was now suckling on Astarion’s outstretched finger. “Close to feeding time, you’ll have to relinquish her for a little,” you give him a saucy smile and settle on the couch to prep. 

Apparently he didn’t move quick enough for your offspring, as he hisses and gives Estelle the weakest glare you’ve ever seen him make. “Everyone is always telling me biting without permission is rude, I hardly think it’s fair you get away with it, Little Lady.” 

“Think of it as repayment for past misdeed,” you laugh as you begin to open your shirt.

“Are you still holding that night against me, my dearest wife? That’s ruthlessly unfair,” he settles next to you, waiting for you to finish before putting Estelle in your arms. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling husband” you bat your eyes at him and play innocent until you feel the stinging bite of the two tiny teeth she's recently grown.  Estelle is apparently equitably minded about causing pain this evening. “Ouch,” you whisper, not wanting to disturb her evening meal. 

Beside you, Astarion’s mood visibly falters. “What are we going to do when she grows fangs?”

You certainly aren't looking forward to it, but the love of your life was still considerably nervous about what the future would hold for your little Dhampir. “What we always do, get through it.”

“You're very confident.”

“Well, I did save the world once.”

He finally gives you a smile. “We, Darling, I was there too. I suppose you're right, though.” He turns his attention to intently watching his daughter nurse. “We've come this far.” Leaning in, he gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, carefully not to upset her. “Besides the tree, how does everything else look?” 

The parlor, dining room, hallway, and library had all been draped in festive boughs of evergreen with golden ribbon and strands of silvery beads. It was just this side of too much, but it was very Astarion. “Everything looks fantastic, Love. It's going to be a wonderful holiday. Now we’ll just have to keep Scratch and Midnight out of it.” 

“Speak for your own mutt,” Scratch whined where he lay in front of the crackling fire place. “Midnight is a perfectly well-behaved tressym.” 

Midnight, the tressym that had prowled Szarr manor, the Spawn siblings had kept their fondness for the creature from Cazador. They’d decided not to take her into the Underdark, and she’d ended up in your custody along with Scratch. She was, despite Astarion’s protests, not perfect. “Oh, I’m sure, she’s never any trouble.” 

“Hush,” he pretended to pout before sighing. “Odd that I get to walk in the sun again, and now we're celebrating the longest night of the year.” He gave the room one last appraising glance. “Gods, we’re really going to squeeze everyone in here.”

“At least Halsin promised to leave the Owlbear behind.” Estelle had finished eating and Astarion passed you a cloth to burp her with. 

“Gale still insisted on coming early to cook. We could handle it, you know.” The complaints tell you he really is quite nervous. 

“We could, or we could spend more time with Little Lady here,” who punctuated your words with an undignified burp. 

“Point taken Sunlight.” You pass Estelle to his waiting arms so you can close your shirt.

In the soft candlelight of the winter evening, Astarion looks absolutely ethereal. For a precious few moments, you just study him and your daughter. Since the moment she was born, he'd absolutely adored her. Fear still haunted him, fear her life would be too difficult as a Dhampir, fear he would fail as a father, but he tried his best every day. And those days when he did falter, when bad memories surfaced, when his temper was short, you were by his side. Not that you didn't have your share of fears and shadows from your past, but you knew he'd be there for you the way you were for him. Your bond made you both stronger. 

Right now, though, everything felt perfect. It was going to be the happiest Solstice you'd even known. 

A few days later saw you up before dawn on the morning of Solstice. Estelle had decided it was play time at an ungodly hour and now you, Astarion, and Scratch, were all gathered around a blanket spread on your parlor rug entertaining her. Your attention wanders for a moment, and she squeals at you. “Oh, I know, you have to be the center of the universe. You're very much your Father’s daughter,” you reach down and tickle her tummy. 

“Or maybe she knows she's worth it, like her Mother,” he blows you a kiss and your heart flutters like the first time you let him sink his teeth into you. 

“Flattery…” an unexpected knock at the door interrupts you. 

Scratch lets out a quiet bark, careful not to startle Estelle. He learned quickly that a scared baby is a crying baby. “This early? The wizard has finally lost his mind.” 

You both get to your feet, exchanging looks, it is unexpectedly early for Gale. Taking Estelle, you hang back as Astarion opens the door, Scratch at his side, ever vigilant. 

Gale stands in pre-dawn darkness, one magical chest in his hand that contains everything you'll need for today. “You know, it's still dark out? We could've been asleep.” Astarion stares at him with narrowed eyes. 

“Ah, but I see you are all awake and in good spirits,” he smiles awkwardly, and you get the impression that he's working up to something. “Besides, it was entirely necessary to arrive before dawn…”

“Really?” Astarion crosses his arms, waiting for further explanation. 

“Astarion,” you kiss his cheek, “don't be so cross with him.”

“Give it a moment,” Gale mutters, and you both turn to him. “I mean that is…well…” 

“Hells Gale,” a pale figure steps into the doorway with him, one that you recognize. 

“Dal?” Astarion asks, and you can see confusion starting to give way to realization. 

“Hello Astarion.”

“Alright, no use you two standing out in the cold, come in.” You look directly at Dalyria, a little unsure if the invitation needs renewal every so often. “Both of you.” 

The two of them waste no time stepping inside and quickly closing the door behind them, shutting you off from the cold of the early morning.

Estelle coos happily at the company. “And hello to you too, my sweet little niece. She's getting so big.” Some of the siblings had made the trek up from the Underdark when Estelle was born, Dalyria among them. It was a strange dynamic of almost family that years after Cazador’s death they were still working out.

“Yes, yes, she's endlessly adorable. She is mine, after all. Now, what the bloody hell are the two of you doing here together?” His voice pitches up at the end, a sign he's exasperated. You almost lose your composure and giggle at his inability to see the obvious. 

“Well, as it happens…” Gale inhales like he's about to launch into a very long-winded explanation. 

“We've been seeing each other since your wedding. It felt like it was time to tell you.” To emphasize her point, she hooks her arm in Gale's.

“I see.” Astarion shoots you a look to see if you knew about this, and is evidently satisfied by your shrug. 

“Don't be cross brother,” Dalyria lets go of Gale to pull him into a sudden hug, that he returns after a moment. “We just wanted to wait until we were sure of things”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I suppose you're forgiven.”

She kisses his cheek and releases him. “Thank you. Now, to not take away from the little daylight you'll get today, is there a place I can wait it out?”

“Estelle and I can show you up to the guest room,” you motion for her to follow. All the rooms in your house had shutters thick enough to block out the sun, remnants of Astarion’s recently relieved nocturnal life. 

The guest room is a cozy little room tucked under the eves of the house, the last bedroom remaining after Estelle’s nursery was created out of the previous guest room. “Sorry, it’s a bit small.” 

“Still better than a night in the Kennels, I’d wager,” she laughs.

Her words make you wince, sometimes you forget they all shared in the same torment, maybe not as often as Astarion, but still. “I imagine. I’m-” 

“Don’t, I’m just making light of it.” You’ve never quite gotten to know her and the others all that well, your trips to the Underdark being sporadic at best, but now you glimpse that unbroken will that led her to look for a cure to her condition. “This is very nice of you, Gale and I will be perfectly comfortable.” 

“We’ll come back up and check in once I’ve turned Gale loose in the kitchen,” Estelle shouts her agreement. 

“Send my brother up if he needs a time-out from Gale.” The two of you laugh, and you head back downstairs, worried about that exact thing. 

Astarion doesn’t disappoint as you find him in the kitchen, the first pink light of dawn peeping  through the window, lending a flush to his skin as he pins Gale against a wall, dagger drawn. “And another thing, if ever even think of trying to compare her to Mystra...”

To his credit, Gale stands calmly, hands raised, and look imploringly at you. “I think you've gotten your point across, Love.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically and releases your wizard friend. The dagger quickly disappears, you've learned over time that he never really got out of the habit of keeping one hidden on himself. “And you owe me at least two books back, my shop is not a library.” 

“Right,” Gale straightens his clothing. “Now that's all settled, let's get started.” He hefts the small chest onto the kitchen table, and opens it. A space larger than the outside is contained within, a larder to do even the Grand Duke's shame. “I hope I remembered everything.”

The next several hours see the three of you prepping, roasting, sautéing, simmering, and baking. Although Gale truthfully does most of the heavy lifting, you and Astarion are both very much middling still when it comes to the kitchen. You take turns playing assistant, passing Estelle between the two of you, and Astarion pops up to visit Dal. 

The sun is just on its way down when there's another knock at the door. The first of the evening's guests, Astarion goes to answer it while you continue to stir the sauce Gale had declared a “flavor near divine”. 

“Bat pup!” The unmistakable voice of Jaheira fill the house.

“Hello Mother,” Astarion replies warmly. 

The Mother thing had actually begun as a joke. During the time trying to defeat the Absolute, one of Astarion’s petulant comments had prompted Jaheira to tell him if he was going to act like a child, she would put him over her knee like one. He’d responded with a sarcastic, “yes Mother”, and an eye roll. 

“Better, Cub,” Jaheira had laughed, unfazed by his antics. When he insisted she not call him Cub she looked at him and smiled. “You’re right, Bat Pup is much more suitable.” They’d been that way since, the tone of it softening over time. Despite his age, all the time spent as Cazador’s slave and not really living had left Astarion closer mentally to who he was at his time of death, where Jaheira was very much the sum total of her life experience. 

“And there’s my favorite little troublemaker.” You can hear Estelle’s excited trill for her “grandmother”. You’ll give them a few minutes to catch up.  

Involuntarily, you smile as you keep a close watch on the sauce. “A wonderful sound, isn’t it?” You turn to Gale, giving him a puzzled look at his words. “The sound of happiness,” his eyes twinkle at the words. “If you had told me years ago that Astarion would be happy and content as a family man with a bookshop, I would have laughed. But here we are.” 

“So would I, if we’re being honest.” A part of you remembers a clandestine confession from him, intentionally far away from Astarion’s hearing. Feelings you couldn’t return. “I’m glad you found someone too, Gale.” 

“Indeed. Sometimes the things we think we want most aren’t the things we need. A lesson I’ve learned more than a few times. Although it didn’t take me nearly as long to learn that as much as it seemed Astarion needed you, you needed him too.” For a moment, the two of you are lost in memories of that harrowing time. “Ah, but let me save myself from distraction and monitor this roast. The others will be arriving soon. And you should go visit with Jaheira before she has to go back to the other children.” He gives you a warm smile and shoos you away. 

“Helps with the pain of those little teeth coming in. I’ve got a few growing, I should be able to keep you stocked.” 

Reaching the parlor, you find Estelle, happily chewing on some plant leaf in Jaheira’s lap and Astarion looking like he’s fighting the urge to snatch her back. The two of you had a serious talk about this holiday celebration and letting other people hold her for more than a few seconds. “There’s my Cub, the famous hero.”

“Hello Crow,” you’d never been able to think of her in the same maternal sense as Astarion, your own motherly relationship was so messy it bled into any others. Truthfully it had made you nervous as to what it would be like to be a mother, but the sound of Estelle’s first cries had soothed away any lingering doubts, you may not be perfect at it, but you would fight for her happiness every day. “She looks like she’s having a good time,” you gesture to Estelle and the leaf. 

“That’s the best Solstice gift so far. It was a nightmare when the first two came through, and I know others will be starting soon. I see you’re managing to behave yourself, Love,” you kiss Astarion’s cheek to emphasize your approval as you sit next to him.

“As if she wouldn’t entangle me or some nonsense if I didn’t let her hold the grandchild. But then again, she is getting a bit old, maybe she’s slowed down.” 

“Watch yourself Astarion or you will find out what I’m still capable of.” 

The sun is sinking behind the horizon as the last of the shortest day of the year comes to a close. Dalyria descends to join you all, Midnight nestled in her arms, the tressym deigning to leave her attic kingdom for once. Astarion stokes the fireplace, leaving the room in a warm glow. Scratch immediately gives up on the vigil he’s been keeping at the kitchen door to lay in front of the fire. 

Underneath the tree, brightly colored presents wait for unwrapping. There’s a knock on the door as the next of your friends arrive. Over the next hour, they all show up. Lae’zel and Shadowheart, newly engaged and figuring out just what sort of wedding a Gith and Half-Elf should have. Wyll and Karlch, lovers and heroes of the Sword Coast now that they’ve returned permanently from Avernus. Minsc and Boo, very much in Holiday Spirit. And finally Halsin, unexpectedly with a shy looking Drow man on his arm. “I hope one more isn’t imposing,” he says with a nervous yet excited smile. “This is Veltris.” 

“We can make work,” truthfully you’re terribly intrigued by the man who has Halsin so clearly smitten and you lead them inside to join the others.

Someone has passed a wine bottle around the parlor now heating up with all the bodies gathered there. Astarion has a dosing Estelle back in his arms, who somehow is undisturbed by the chatter all around. “Try this,” Dalyria passes him a glass poured from a distinct blue bottle, “I’m preserving blood for long term storage.” 

He makes a face but keeps drinking. “I suppose it is better than nothing.” 

You settle back down next to him, taking a glass Wyll has passed you. “Always the gentleman,” you smile at him. 

“Does he do more than kiss your hand behind close doors?” You’ll never get over Lae’zel’s sense of humor. 

“Well, not always,” Karlach gives you a wink.

“Do tell?” Shadowheart teases.

“I’ll have you know…” Wyll tries to defend himself.

‘My daughter is right here!” Astarion huffs. “Gods, Gale had better finish dinner soon before you all get any more wine in you.” 

“As it just so happens,” the Wizard appears in the doorway of your dining room. 

“Finally,” Astarion huffs. 

The others get up and start making their toward the wafting scent of a mouthwatering feast. “Minsc hopes you have made enough for Boo’s tremendous appetite!”

“I had better go before the young ones burn the house down,” Jaheira leans over to give Astarion a hug. “Behave yourself Bat Pup, and you too Cub,” she gives you a last wave and heads to the door. 

You start to get up to follow the others, and Astarion grips your hand. “What is it?” For a moment, you worry something has gone wrong.

His head leans on your shoulder. “Nothing, it’s just…” The silence leaves your heart heavy with worry. “Everything is so perfect, more than I ever thought possible.” You can hear the tears in his voice, but don’t say anything, he doesn’t always like to draw attention to large emotions. “A holiday with you, and Estelle, and all of them, a family.” 

“Our family, Starry Sky, and this is the first of many to come.” 

The two of you take a quick moment for yourselves, basking in the glow of the fire, and the perfect Solstice evening with the ones you love. 

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity

Tag list, DM to be added:

 @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream

@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx

@lisrelly @elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby

@satanicspinosaurus

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #my fanfic #my writing #BG3HolidayFluffle23 #x reader #chosen family

[the-guilty-writer]

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Request from @steveharringtonsgirl04: Hey! I have a request you can totally say not to it but it just keeps coming back in my head lol  soo dad hotch x teen reader where she just wants her dad to hold her :( like all the hotch hugs so he takes her to the BAU and nobody knows he has a daughter btw I absolutely adore your writing it’s literally my favorite!

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Summary: Hard days are always made better by Hotchner hugs.

A/N: I fully admit that I am lacking in creativity at the moment and I don’t love the “secret family” trope, so this is just short and fluffy Hotch being the best dad

CW: reader gets her period, mentions of vomiting, suggestion that reader’s mother is Haley but could always be adopted or from another relationship

---

“Everyone has his day and some last longer than others.”

Well, you were having your day. And it was bad. Before the lunch bell rang for the day you’d already gotten a terrible night sleep, had Jack spill juice on your favorite top, been late for class, gotten locked out of your locker, tripped over your own feet causing you to face plant in front of the upperclassmen, and gotten your period.

It was safe to say that you were having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

You riffled through your backpack, looking for the bottle of Advil to ease the cramps, but when you found it, it was empty. You cursed under your breath.

Terrible. Horrible. No Good. Very Very Bad Day.

With the knowledge that you’d be unable to get through the rest of the day without being in pain, you swallowed your pride and went to the nurse’s office.

“I’m going to have to call a parent or guardian to bring you something,” the older lady told you. “It’s against school policy for me to give students medication without a doctor's note. Is there someone I can call?”

Usually the answer would have been Jessica, but for once she was the guardian who was out of town.

“Yeah, um, my dad,” you said.

The nurse gave you a sympathetic look and left. She came back a few minutes later. “He’s on his way,” she informed you.

Feeling exhausted and uncomfortable, all you could do was nod.

---

When Hotch walked into the nurse’s office an hour later, he thought you might be on the verge of vomiting. While you tried to look as stoic as him, the paleness of your face gave away how you were actually feeling, and the guilt that he couldn’t get there sooner made his heart sink.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you, sitting next to you on the cot. He pulled a bottle of Advil from his pocket and handed it to you.

“Thanks.” Your hands were slow but your voice was grateful. “Sorry you had to drive all the way here.”

“No need to apologize.” He kissed your forehead before you downed the pills. You leaned into him slightly and he wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

“‘S not your fault,” your voice was muffled by his suit. You leaned into him and he held you gladly. Just like your mom, you’d always liked hugs, even more so when you hurt.

“Do you want to come to work with me?” he asked. “You can come lay on the couch in my office for the rest of the day.”

You didn’t even question it. “Yes, please."

He signed you out at the front desk. You got a few funny looks, probably doubts that your cramps were really bad enough that you needed the rest of the day off school, but nobody was going to question the glock on your dad's hip or the ID on his shirt.

He helped you into the car, always showing you how any future partner you have should treat you. By the time he climbed into the drivers side, you were already slumped against the door, fast asleep. A gentle smile crept over Hotch’s face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, careful not to wake you, and then began driving to the office at Quantico.

---

“Do you need anything?” Your dad asked before he sat down at his desk.

You were curled up on the couch in his office, a warm cup of tea on the small table in front of you and a fuzzy blanket. Halfway through the drive, your dad had stopped to get your favorite food. You had your laptop out so you could relax and watch your favorite movies. Really, you had everything.

“A hug?” you requested. That was the one thing he’d never say no to. He sat beside you on the couch and pulled you into a hug- the safest feeling in the world. As he let go, he kissed your forehead and then pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

You put the headphones on and turned on the movie. Your dad began his paperwork.

It was no longer a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x child!reader #hotch x daughter!reader #hotch x child!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

[the-desilittle-bird]

Author's Note- Writing for Daemon after a long time but here I am. Hope you all like it. Requests are always open and appreciated.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

Dreams and Dragons

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary- The Targaryens and Hightowers celebrate the birth of (Y/N) and Otto's son but all is not as it seems...

Tag List- @minaxcarter, @eliseline, @Blackhoodlea, @little-moonbeam-666, @neenieweenie, @omgsuperstarg, @avalyaaa, @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @krokietinio, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @thekayarlene, @narcy, @helloitsshitzulover, @muushwrites, @daringboba, @bi2simps, @issybee0611, @yariany02, @agathe, @5moremin, @candypurplebutterfly, @saraelizabeth26, @moon-light1415, @targaryenmoony, @stargaryenx, @instabul

Warnings- Implied cheating, Incest, Arguments

GIF Credits to @gameofthronesdaily

"He looks like my dear sister, Otto," Viserys commented with a loving smile, his hand caressing the silver hair on his newborn nephew's head. Otto Hightower could only nod stiffly as he stood by his daughter's side, eyeing the Targaryen lady with disdain, while on the other hand, the lady wife of the Hand basked in the afterglow of childbirth.

"He truly does, Viserys," (Y/N) said with a smile which turned into a smirk as she gazed down at her newborn child. Only the eagle-eyed people could make out the sharp yet beautifully hidden differences in her baby to her.

And the fortunate similarities between the child and his father uncle.

The structure of his nose, the violet colour of his eyes instead of her lavender ones. The straight silver hair instead of her natural loose curls.

He had adopted her mother's lips, bone structure and eye shape. His fingers curling around the princess' index finger.

"Where is Daemon?" (Y/N) asked, looking at Viserys with doe eyes. "Must be in exile," Otto muttered, making his second-wife frown. "Don't tell me you exiled him again," she sighed, looking down at her child.

"I am right here sister."

(Y/N)'s face brightened up as she looked up to find her twin striding in with something tucked carefully beneath his hand. A smirk plastered over his angular face as he stopped beside Viserys.

Leaning down, Daemon caressed the soft platinum hair on the new Prince's head. "He is a strong boy. Much like his father," Daemon commented with a smirk, looking at Otto teasingly.

"Indeed," Viserys beamed, glancing between Otto and Daemon, unknowing to the truth behind the statement. Daemon offered Viserys a smile, sitting down next to (Y/N)'s legs.

"What is that, Dae?" Daemon's twin asked, gesturing to the hidden object beneath his hand. Daemon smirked, carefully presenting her with the dragon egg he had personally picked up for his child.

Gasps filled the room as everyone stepped closer to study the egg. "He is a child-" "He is a Targaryen," Daemon interrupted Otto's protest. Otto huffed, ready to shoot another reason or comment targeted towards the Rogue Prince.

"He is, my prince. But he is a merely newborn and what will happen if my son is presented with a dragon a few moons after this day? Surely nothing much," Otto hissed.

Daemon scowled, placing the egg next to an amused (Y/N) and stood up, walking to Otto. With his hands behind his back, Daemon could easily intimidate any warrior or Lord with a single glance.

"It does matter, my lord. Dreams and dragons are extremely important for Targaryens," Daemon stated, annoyed to the core. "True. But if I remember correctly, Daenys the Dreamer had no dragon. Surely, dreams are more important to you all; for because of them, the Targaryens came to rule the Seven Kingdoms."

Daemon chuckled, shaking his head in denial. (Y/N), Viserys and Alicent watched with interest as the known enemies fought verbally over a dragon's egg.

"Dreams didn't make us kings... dragons did, my lord," Daemon said, making (Y/N) smirk. "Truth brother," she added, making the side of Daemon's lip tug up in a smirk.

"Anyway, Daemon. I am yet to name my son and I would wish for you to suggest something," (Y/N) said with a smile; almost teasing to her lord husband and Hand.

Daemon nodded, a loving smile on his face as he glided his way to take his place in front of (Y/N) and his child. His hand placed on his son's head softly.

Both (Y/N) and Daemon had discussed about names before, when they were young. Both unmarried and together. Only one thing had not changed during the entire transformation of their relationship. That was, they were still madly in love.

"Baelon."

#hotd imagine #house targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x y/n #daemon x reader #daemon au #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan

[saeitoshithoughts]

WELCOME TO THE FAMILY

♥️ meeting itoshi sae’s family + headcanons

characters: itoshi sae, itoshi rin (non love interest)

- family means quite a lot to sae

- like, a lot.

- you can tell from his daily calls with his mom (sometimes his dad chimes in, when he feels like it)

- the calls are short yes, but sae always seems to be a bit less stressed after the greets and chats

- his parents send salted kelp (sometimes personally prepared by his mother) when he asks

- he rarely goes home though. his personal goal seems to bring him over the edge sometimes, forgetting his family (albeit not purposely- although he is aware)

- however, when he started meeting you, marriage inevitably became a reaccuring thought and consideration

- he has always been a family man after all

- his work days would be much enjoyable if he could come home to you, after all. (he reasons)

- but despite his already made up mind, he wants you to meet his parents first.

- his mother is absolutely elated to meet you.

- proud sae with a lover?! who could’ve guessed? (not to mention, sae brought it up far too casually in a call- ultimately sending his mother into a close call with a cardiac arrest)

- at some point, baby pictures are out and the conversations start:

“are you planning to marry?” (sae is- but he won’t tell you yet)

“oh! how about children? do you want to adopt?” (sae does- he doesn’t mind adopting)

“do you know any friends for rin?”

- ah yes, of course.

- itoshi rin

- he sits in silence next to his mother. silently glaring at his brother, and sometimes, you.

- a part of him knows that it is illogical to mistreat someone who he had just met. yet another part of him is still petty at seeing sae looking at you so gently and softly

- he leaves the dinner halfway through.

- and although you have tried to strike a conversation with him, he simply insulted you coldly and brushed you off.

- sae does notice this (he has always been perceptive to details)

- since he did expect it, he simply focuses on comforting you by squeezing your hands and sometimes, your shoulders.

- his parents are quite happy with the news though, that his son brought you home:

- they know what it means.

- sae definitely wants to marry you

- at the end of the day, although his mother tried to get you both to stay-

- sae denies the offer because his childhood room was shared with rin for these listed reasons:

a. they had fought, it’d be uncomfortable for you and the both of them

b. he wants alone time with you (he gets silently clingy after a social setting or a tough day)

- before you left, sae brought you to the convenience store he has always went after practice with rin as children

- the old lady there recognised him immediately, greeting him and making small talk over football (though she doesn’t seem to know much about it)

- sae doesn’t cut her off though, talking to her with a gentler voice. the reminiscence got to him, you conclude.

prsssk

“here, ice cream.”

- the other half of a popsicle stick was handed over to you, along with the prettiest look you’ve ever seen sae harbour in his eyes.

- you didn’t realise it at the time, but the moment he brought you over into his world and into his past,

- he is truly and utterly in love with you and is ready for a life of settlement.

(after becoming the best mid fielder and freeing himself from japan’s expectations, of course.)

#itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi headcanons #blue lock headcanons #sae x reader #blue lock #sae headcanons #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader

[shygirl4991]

Coffee Prince and The Frog Prologue

A Collab with @lizaluvsthis and @alianarepasa

Art for this chapter cover included done by @alianarepasa Next Chapter Kid SMG3 and Family Reference by alianarepasa SMG4 and SMG3 Outfit Reference by Lizaluvsthis Summary: SMG3 is a busboy with a dream to run his own cafe, he slaves away at his friends restaurant in hopes to save enough to open his cafe. But when a talking frog named SMG4 asks for a kiss to break a curse placed on him, the two will end up going on  a journey that will change their lives forever. 

Tags: slow burn, inspired by Disney princess and the frog, love confessions, falling in love, animal transformation, adopted family relationship, fluff, angst, voodoo

In a mansion deep in the mushroom kingdom lives the Fungo family, a small rich family where twin boys lived with their father Bootleg and mother lady Rosea. A knock was heard echoing through the mansion late in the night. One of the servants runs to the door and opens it only to see a basket with a baby inside, she runs to grab the lord of the house. He steps outside and picks up the child confused, seeing the note tape to the blanket he reads it “SMG3? What a strange name for a child,” the baby's eyes open catching the man's attention. When his eyes met with the child's ruby red eyes it was over, he walked inside screaming to his wife “HONEY WE HAVE A NEW SON!” “WE WHAT!?” she yells back startled by the sudden news.

Nine years passed since then, the castle was shrouded in darkness as the lord of the house mourned the loss of his wife. He looked at the family photo and knew he had to be strong for his sons, the struggle was the youngest. Over time the twins Mario and Luigi started to act more like themselves, but that young boy he took in was becoming trouble. He walks around the house and notices black paint staining the floor, he sighs following it and catches the child painting his crown. “Three, what are you doing?” the child freezes as he slowly turns and gives him a smirk as he flashes his golden crown now with a skull on it “I was fixing my crown, gold is so lame but now look how awesome it looks!” He squints at his son before letting out a sigh “Three that crown just wont work, we come from an important family you can't just walk around with a skull on your crown!” SMG3 pouts cleaning up the extra paint on the crown then stares at the skull on it. After a few moments of thinking he placed it on his head “Then maybe i want to do my own thing! Mom always told me being different isn't bad.”  Three gives his father a smile only to lose it when Bootleg snatches the crown from his head “I will get this cleaned, now get ready it's almost story time you know your brother hates to miss it.” 

He watches his father walk away and sighs as he drags himself to Luigi’s room, seeing his younger brother Luigi pull Three in for a hug causing the younger sibling to panic and struggle to break free from the sudden affection. Luigi let's go giving a bright smile to him “Why so down?” “Dad didn't like my idea of adding a cool design to our crowns, what's wrong with wanting a skull on my crown! Ugh now he is going to read us gross love stories.” he groans sitting on the floor. He never cared for fairy tales; he rather sat down and read scary stories then listened to how some chick gave up her life for a dude she fell for to be happy with someone else. Luigi frowns “But love stories are amazing Three, the idea of going on some grand adventure with someone and falling for them how does that sound gross?” SMG3 lays on the floor staring at the green curtains thinking on how to explain to his brother. 

“If I learn anything from these stories dad read us, romance is all flowers and sunshine you have to sacrifice everything for some random person cause oh no my heart skips a beat! Maybe go get checked by a doctor if your heart is doing that idiot!”  Once he was done explaining he closed his eyes waiting for a reaction. His brother sighs sitting next to him “I think finding that certain someone is amazing, someone that just understands you where no one else can.” 

It took Three everything in him to not make a sarcastic remark, he opened his eyes and stared at the door. His father was taking too long meaning that Mario found the stash of pasta in the mansion again, his older brother was never the same after eating spaghetti in that party they went to last week. All he ever talks about is how he wants more spaghetti then throws a tantrum if he doesn't get any, if anything would be a fun fairytale to read it be the love story with his brother and the food.

The door swings open revealing their father with Mario tied up behind him “Story time kids!” Mario shakes his head trying to worm himself away “NO THAT'S GAY!” their father sighs, picking up the child “Mario don't say things like that around Three!” “Too late my mind has been filled with so much i dont think Mario’s high IQ talk can save me,” he chuckles earning a glare from his father.

He drops Mario next to his siblings as he takes out a book “Today’s story is princess and the frog,” hearing the title Three gets up excited, he remembers how his mother used to read him the story before bed. He never did understand how throwing a frog to a wall helped break a curse but it worked so who was he to judge how magic works. His dad smiled at him, surprised to see the young one finally interested in a story, as he kept reading that excitement was draining from the child's face.  Three was now laying on the floor asking for someone to take him away from the cringe, Luigi was in love with the story, and Mario was trying to eat the rope to break free. 

“The ugly little frog looked up with sad, round eyes and pleaded ‘oh please, dear princess, only a kiss from you can break this terrible spell that was inflicted on me by a wicked witch!’ the beautiful princess was so moved by his desperate plea that she stooped down, picked up the slippery creature and kissed him!” He smiles at the kids to see their reaction. Luigi giggled at the sweet story while SMG3 sat there eyes wide at his father, Mario gave up on escaping and fell asleep during the story.

Luigi got up and hugged his dad. “That was an amazing story, I hope I meet my frog prince.” SMG3 shakes his head running up to his older brother “ARE YOU SERIOUS?! KISSING A FROG WHAT IF YOU GET WARTS!" Three stare’s with disgust. Luigi shakes his head "Frogs don't give warts three," he turns to his brother "DOES SHE KNOW THAT?"

Luigi giggles at his brother's panic and pulls him into a hug “When it comes to love why not take that risk! Maybe you will get it when you meet your frog prince and or princess!”  SMG3 blushes trying to escape the hug, the thought of kissing a frog grossed him out and had no idea why his brother wanted to curse him with a frog. Their father chuckles, “Hey the princess won at the end the frog became a handsome prince!” 

Finally free from the hug Three glares at his father “Yeah cause man i just met that was a frog a second ago really yells marriage material!”  Bootleg sighs slamming the book shut “When you hit your twenties i expect you to change that tone!” SMG3 pouts at his fathers stern tone before they all get told to go to bed. Mario cheers being set free and runs off full speed on the hunt, Bootleg sighs as he starts to chase after Mario. SMG3 waves goodbye at his brother before heading to his room, changing into his skull pj’s he hops into bed and smiles softly at his frog plush “Oh Terrance, when will dad get that these fairytales are so lame! You know…mom understood,” he hears a bark making him sit up and squeal “Come here!” a small egg shaped dog jumps into Three’s arms excitedly. He loves his brother’s but there is nothing more comforting than a cuddle session with Eggdog. 

Slowly he falls asleep with Eggdog in his arms not hearing the door to his room open, Mario looks around and sneaks in, taking SMG3 plushie and running out of the room giggling. The door slams, waking Three up, he looks around the room with Eggdog and notices his plushie missing “What?” Mario was giggling as he thought of a perfect prank to do to his twin, since his brother was so into kissing frogs he was going to get his brother to kiss the frog plushie. The twist is he will have put hot sauce on the lips of the plushie, he keeps sneaking down the hallway till he hears barking. Turning around his eyes go wide seeing SMG3 charging down the hallway “HEY! LEAVE TERRANCE ALONE!” Mario takes a step back before running away from Three. 

Three growls as he charges at his older brother “Give him back!” Eggdog catches up biting Mario’s pants, in one swift movement Three grabs the arm of the plushie. SMG3 glares at Mario “LET GO MARIO YOUR GONNA BREAK IT YOU IDIOT!” Then it happens, the arm starts to tear causing Three’s eyes to go wide. Before he has a chance to let go the arm of the frog plush arm rips off, SMG3 falls to his knees with the arm in his hands. His eyes start to water causing Mario to panic “Mario can fix it look!” He takes the arm from Three and tries to shove the arm back into the plush. His attempt to fix the plushie only broke it more, seeing this Three break into tears “I HATE YOU MARIO!”

Panicking he runs and grabs his twin “LUIGI! SMG3 IS CRYING HELP!” Luigi sees the broken plush and pulls three for a hug “It’s okay Three dad can buy you a new one.” Hearing this, Three pulled away and wiped his tears glaring at his older brother “I don't want a new one! HE IS MY BEST FRIEND WHY DO YOU ALL THINK BUYING STUFF FIXES EVERYTHING!” he grabs his broken plushie and runs off to his room crying.

He sits on his bed wiping his tears, there had to be a way to fix his buddy. He sniffs as he thinks to himself, he walks to a drawer and gets tape “It’s okay Terrance i will fix ya buddy, Eggdog guard the door and don't let those people in.” Bootleg runs out of his room to see two of his sons panicking in the hallway, he pinches the bridge of his nose before calming them down. “Okay you two why are you freaking out in the hallway..did Mario do the pasta prank again?” He looks at his two kids. They go silent and seem scared, slowly he turns looking at the black door down the hallway “What did you two do to Three?” The twins both start speaking at the same time explaining what happened to the plushie making the man sigh as he walks over to Three’s room. 

He knocks on the door, Eggdog starts barking letting the child know someone was there annoyed he finishes taping the arm back on to his plushie. He then opens the door surprised to see his father “Heard about Terrance, you know son i have told you before that broken things are better off replaced but since this is Terrance i will get someone to fix him.” SMG3 looks up at his father with excitement “REALLY!?” Bootleg chuckles and pats his son's head “Yes, and I think you're old enough to finally pick your family hat, I'm thinking purple letter T?” 

Three pouts “No..that's lame i'm not like Mario and Luigi, can i just finally pick something thats…me?” Bootleg wasnt a fan of that idea knowing what the child might pick. After some thought he nods, Three jumps in excitement and hugs his father. 

The next day SMG3 dressed up making sure his vest was on right, they all stood together for a family portrait before heading out. Three was excited to pick out his hat, as far as he knows the families that have any kind of royal connections get a hat that they wear till the moment they get married and get a crown as a replacement. He didn't care so much about the crown, but the idea of having a hat made for him and no one can say anything about it excited him. That was till they arrived and all he was shown were classy hats that looked too fancy for his taste, he turned looking at his older brothers wearing their hats and frowns.

He sighs walking around the shop when he notices a halloween section, where his eyes meet with a purple cap with a skull on a black background on it. He picks it up and puts it on his head, he runs off to his father showing the hat “I found it! My forever hat!”  His father frowns seeing the skull on it “You…sure?” He gave a bright smile to his father, unable to say no to the smile he walked up to the cashiers and bought the hat. Three hugs his dad “I love you dad!” Bootleg chuckles hugging his son back. What they didn't know was this year was the last year SMG3 and his father would be this close. 

Twelve years later The alarm rings, a now twenty one year old SMG3 smacks it off and gets out of bed. He picks up his hair in a ponytail and washes his face, after brushing his teeth he puts on his casual wear, can never beat the classic overall look. He gives a quick smooch to Eggdog as he dashes into the kitchen to grab something fast to eat. Mario was already deep into his spaghetti while Luigi was waiting at the table to hand his brother his lunch for work. Three dashes into the kitchen and takes the lunch “Thanks, and Bootleg doesn't know where I'm working yet right? I need to warn my friends soon about him ugh.” Luigi giggles, giving Three a small pat. “He acts the way he does because you are so much like mom, he is worried you might get in trouble.”

SMG3 rolls his eyes “The only thing that asshole cares about is marrying us off, no thank you! Now work calls later losers!”  He gives his brothers a peace sign before leaving the mansion, he shivers slightly feeling the wind. He didn't mind feeling the cold after all he got to pick what to wear, not his overbearing father, he starts his walk to work humming to himself his favorite song from the beetlejuice musical. He pauses when he sees a crowd of women cheering excitedly, turning his head he sees a fancy ship was arriving “Oh yeah, that idiot prince is coming over ugh great these fangirls are going to make me late!” he looks around and chuckles as he lights a small firework that was in his pocket and tossed it. The firework then lands on a fire hydrant exploding and breaking it causing the water to splash on the crowd, he laughs seeing everyone running from the water worried about their makeup. Some of the women notice him and glare “Of course you would do this Three, why do you always have to bother us!?”

SMG3 shrugs “I don't know Belle, why don't you start using waterproof eye liner like I do,” she flips him off in which he returns the favor as he runs off to work. As he arrives Bob smacks his back “ABOUT TIME THE BOSS HAS BEEN BITCHING ABOUT YOU.” Three frowns as he looks at the back room, slowly he approaches and sees no one there but a frog toy. He picks up the toy to hear Bob laughing behind him “GET PRANKED! HEARD A RUMOR YOU HAVE A THING FOR FROGS!” SMG3 turns and tosses the toy at Bob “Countdown from five cause I'm going to kick your ass!” 

In a panic bob runs out of the room leaving Three alone, he sighs and sits on the couch “Thanks Luigi for telling people about our dad always reading that stupid story,” he takes out a piece of paper and unfolds it to reveal a drawing he did of a cafe “Remember why your doing this Three, we will own our dream cafe and no one can stop us. We will earn this, I will never accept his help.” His eyes drop to the frog toy in front of him and chuckles “And I don't need to kiss any frogs either!”  with that he gets up and gets ready for work. 

#smg4 #shygirl4991 #smg34 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #lizaluv #smg34 fanfiction #Coffee prince and the frog #alianarepasa #inspired by princess and the frog #mario smg4 #luigi smg4 #bootleg mario

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Seventeen

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Okay… so I lied again. The feast isn't going to be this chapter, either. It's going to be a chapter in and of itself. It will be the next one, though. I promise! Also, as I was writing this, I was like, "Viserys is technically her uncle, but Rhaenyra is her adopted mother, so, like, he's technically her uncle-grandpa." Have to love that Targaryen family tree/circle. Thank you for reading and being kind about the lack of drama!

Chapter Warnings: Covert manipulation

"How you fell in love with your reflection in the water, I will never know How you could mistreat such a wife and a daughter, I will never know You leaned so close  The water touched your nose The greed in your eyes, they could see it from below The ones who came before Who waded from the shore And plunged into the cold and murky world And seen no more." - Narcissus, Paris Paloma

The hands of sleep had barely wrapped their claws around you as the morning songs of Goldenfinches and Blackbirds traveled through the air, their chirps sounding like a conversation between two beings, a conversation in which you did not want to hear with such little rest.

As your maids entered through the large oak doors of the guest chamber, you groaned in annoyance, snatching the extra feather pillow on your bed and smothering it over your ears. You wanted to escape the endless windstorm in your mind-- to evade all thoughts of duties, responsibilities, and memories that plagued you throughout all hours of the night and forbade you from the sweet embrace of rest.

"Sleep avade you, my Lady?" Fiora inquired, seaming to glide through the air to open your forest green curtains.

You grumbled, flopping onto your stomach as you pressed the soft cushion harder.

"I've gathered you're not the morning bird, your Grace, but must we do this everyday?" Jeyne asked, already at her wits end with your childish antics.

"Leave me here to rot," you whined, voice muffled by the thick fabric. There was silence in the rude morning ritual, and you gradually let the tiredness pull you back under.

Jeyne tsked as only a mother would when you refused to move, ripping the blankets off your toasted body with a gust of cold air. Reflexively, your legs recoiled, shrieking at the loss of your comforting sheets as you shouted in protest.

"I could have your hand for that!" Your voice was monotone as you flipped over, removing the pillow and flinging it toward her. "I could make sure none of you worked another day here for the rest of your life."

Fiora only giggled, knowing you were not serious, as Jeyne scolded you with her fists on her waist. Although Dyana appeared somewhat scared, tossing the eldest maid an uneasy glance as she busied herself with gathering the supplies and implements to ready you for the day, a slight tremble in her hands.

"I only jest, Dyana. You must realize I would never do such a thing to you all," you told her, sitting upright in bed as you stretched your upper body. "Besides, no one would take my word seriously. I am but a humble bastard, trying to make her way in a world of uptight cunts that would keel over if they saw a woman in trousers."

Jeyne scoffed at the vulgarity of your words but had a hint of a grin on her lips as Fiora chuckled. The littlest servant even cracked a smile too.

Your bare feet padded across the luxurious rugs on the floor, each one a different obnoxious weave of green and gold. If one did not know any better, one would believe this to be the house of the Hightowers, not the Targaryens. The thought left a sour taste in your mouth as you reached for the steaming cup of morning tea the three girls always brought you to wash it down.

Many things would have to change around here, you contemplated. First, you needed to figure out which problem to address.

The foremost thing that appeared on your mental list as you sat at the polished vanity where Dyana was standing was the problem at the Stepstones. Poor Lord Corlys was fighting a war in which the people of King's Landing were not concerned. The group of islands seemed so far away to the average snotty nobleman only because they did not realize the significance of the consequences that would happen if the Sea Snake lost to the Triarchy. It wasn't just a battle against greedy slavers but a war for protection and control of the Narrow Sea. The added Dornish forces made victory seem far.

If Corlys, a Lord under the Seven Kingdoms, lost control of the Sea, it would not only be a shameful defeat for the Master of Driftmark but destitution for all the trade that went through there. What would stop the Triarchy from taking control of all the ports on the eastern side of Essos? Imposing outrageous taxes onto ships that pass through with essential goods.

The Lords of the Small Council would only listen about the importance of the Stepstones if it came from a high-ranking man. And what better of a man could a king possibly be? So, that was precisely what you planned to do before the evening feast. Your Grandsire was going to get off his feeble, impassive arse and finally be the king he was supposed to be, for there was no other way to secure the safe future of the Narrow Sea.

Dyana had finished dressing you for the day in a plain and straightforward gown, indeed, nothing to swoon over. You believed Queen Alicent would've approved the shift if she saw it herself.

The body was made of a deep red fabric, replicating the dark viscous of blood freshly cut from a vein. The sleeves were a deep onyx as they billowed out from your wrists, creating a wave of darkness every time you moved your arms. There were silver accents on the trim of the square collar, the same style matching the makeshift armbands and belt sewn around those areas. You decided to pair it with the necklace and earrings Daemon had gifted you in your first encounter, the memory of it bringing a wistful smile.

There was no reason to spectacle your outfit to the King. He was a kind, older man who loved his kin deeply, wanting each House Targaryen member to be united. You were unsure if Viserys realized how much each faction of his family despised one another. The reasoning behind it was something you could never get your head around.

At first, you guessed it had something to do with your mother so blatantly birthing bastards and having her husband welcome another. Still, as time passed and you gathered small fragments of the broken relationship between the two sides, it seemed to have been more—something that was planted long before the birth of you and your adopted siblings.

You heard in passing that Rhaenyra and Alicent had once been the closest of friends. Seeing how much enmity was tossed toward your mother with courtly matters, you couldn't imagine something like that now.

As your three servants applied the finishing touches in making you presentable, admiring the updo they created, Fiora glanced at Jeyne. Her eyes were wide with panic, and she quickly whispered something to the older woman before she looked back at you. You frowned, trying to follow where their line of vision was as you shifted uncomfortably on the cushioned stool, beginning to chew your lip. An old habit you tried desperately to get rid of.

"What?" you questioned offensively, gesturing with your head to get them to speak.

"We do not like this style on you," Jeyne said, trotting over to undo their work.

You avoided her touch, turning your body to face her. "Why? It is an excellent one. I think it shapes my face wonderfully. You would not be able to see my earrings as openly as you can now if you changed it."

She ignored your protests, gripping the sides of your face and turning your head back around so she could mess up their work. "Truly, you women are unbelievable! Manhandling me in such a way you wouldn't believe that I am a princess."

"You would know all about manhandling, wouldn't you Lady Targaryen?" Jeyne chided, yanking the pins out of your hair as the heavy black tresses fell down your back.

"However do you mean?" you asked with growing annoyance. You clenched your jaw, hoping it would keep your notoriously harsh tongue at bay.

"What made you so tired this morning, your Grace? You can confide in your ladies. We're here to serve you. Your secrets are our secrets," she said.

You looked at Jeyne's concentrated reflection in the vanity mirror, squinting your eyes suspiciously at her. "If you must know, I was training in the yard last night, as I always do, and was up relatively late because of it."

That wasn't entirely a lie. You were awake during the hour of ghosts, honing your skills with the blade and many other things. It just wasn't the whole truth.

"Ah, so that is how you got that litter of bruises along your neck?" Jeyne answered facetiously, nodding in confirmation.

Your blood ran cold as you swallowed thickly. Aegon had left his marks on your skin, branded you in his drunken haze of self-pity and assault. You turned your head in the mirror, trying to see what the servant was talking about, and sure enough, there were splotches of green and yellow circles around your neck as if a squid had wrapped its tentacles around your throat.

Fury ignited in your chest like a blast furnace, heating the icy shame and turning it into anger. You clenched your fists, gritting your teeth as you followed the exact trail of discoloration that matched the one Aegon took down to your collarbones.

You felt violated.

Dirty. Used.

Like an old rag, the servants of the Red Keep would have to scrub the pale red stone floors. You wanted to rip the skin off your muscles and cut out every tainted bit of flesh on your body. How could you have let him do this to you? How could you have been so weak? Tears of contrite welled in your eyes. Daemon would be so ashamed if he knew what happened. Years of his blood and sweat were all wasted on a feeble little peasant girl from Flea Bottom.

You could have fought back and quickly overpowered him. You were much more robust than Aegon and quicker, but you didn't use that to your advantage. You just laid there on the packed earth of the training yard, letting him brand you with the marks of a whore. And the worst part was that there was no purpose to it. There was no overarching goal in your submission. You didn't let him defile you for the greater good, for your country or your mother, but simply because of nothing.

You hated Aegon for what he did, and most predominately, you hated yourself because what happened held no meaning. And if your actions had no intention, what did that imply about you? It was not something you were willing to think about, steeling yourself as you plastered on a rehearsed bashful smile.

"Dear Jeyne, you know a lady never tells," you answered coyly, pretending to shy away from her question, "but if you must know... a certain Kraken has taken great interest in me, and who am I to deny such a mystical being of their affections."

The three girls giggled. Dyana blushed as she slipped your shoes on, and Fiora excitedly hopped. Jeyne believed you, slightly grinning as she put your hair in a braided half-up, half-down style, ensuring your neck was completely covered.

***

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was posted to the entrance for Viserys bed chambers, his polished silver helmet reflecting the early afternoon sun from the tall paned windows. He stood straight as if a steel rod was in place of his spine rather than bones, his palm resting over the hilt of his elegant sword.

The Commander's gaze didn't meet yours until you called out his name, jogging slightly down the hall with a grin on your lips, the sleeves of your dress flowing like a midnight waterfall at your sides.

"Ser Harrold Westerling," you chirped, happy to see a sweet face amongst the ocean of sour ones.

You still recalled the pleasant interactions from the past, remembering the respect he extended to you, understanding the vulnerable position you were in by being plucked from the slums of King's Landing and placed in a royal palace.

"Princess," he greeted with a tilted head. "What brings you to these parts of the Keep?"

You took no offense to his inquiry. Ser Harrold was kind and honorable, loyal to the King and his wishes until his dying breath. Even when Viserys passed, you were confident he would still follow his will. Thrown into a den of vipers, he would be there with the rake coming from above to cut off the serpents' heads.

"I come seeking an audience with my Grandsire," you said, smiling as you stopped before him.

"His Grace is currently receiving one of his treatments with Grand Maester Mellos. It won't take long," Ser Harrold said, standing proud and formal.

You cocked your head at him, frowning for a brief moment. "I had heard that the King was in good health."

Though your words were ordinary and unsuspecting to anyone else, they held an intent only you and Ser Westerling could decipher. "The Hand and Maester Mellos assured me his Grace was on the mend. I have faith that their treatments must be the cause of his returning health."

Ser Westerling gave you a sidelong glance, the whites of his eyes becoming more apparent underneath his shining helmet. "Of course, Princess," he responded plainly, with no hint of his personal beliefs within his answer.

He was sometimes challenging to read, which was a good trait to have in a place where even the walls had eyes. It had been a skill he acquired over the countless years of devoted service to the King, standing proud and impartial in the background of many world-defining events.

You suppose there was only one thing to do as you hummed at the Lord Commander, taking place on the wall across from him, clasping your hands behind you. You rested your upper body against the excellent stone, your back creating a rather unladylike arch that would have your mother backhanding you in the stomach. Punishments from Rhaenyra were not something you often took seriously, laughing as she would scold you on your manners. It was a relief that she was not here now to do it in front of someone you admired.

It felt like an eternity until the nearly dead Maester and his assistant Orwyle left the King's chambers. You didn't want to be left with your thoughts for long, anxious about where they could lead you. A man stranded in the woods alone, convinced he would starve when he had a pouch full of food in his belly, would cease from what he feared. The mind was a powerful tool over the body; it could deceive oneself into wanting something you did not.

Maester Mellos was startled to find you waiting outside, his limbs locking and almost doubling over like the terrified goats you had seen in the villages of Dragonstone. You had to purse your lips to halt your laughter, Ser Harold and Orwyle rushing to the old man's aid.

"Princess," he heaved, trying to catch his breath, "you gave me a fright."

A tight-lipped smile was all you did, apologizing as you pushed yourself off the wall, the smell of a sickening musk wafting from Viserys' room. "I trust the King is in good health?" you asked with a raised brow, sauntering over to straighten his pious robes. "From the last time we spoke with the Small Council, you said his treatments were going well, yes?"

The man nodded passively, trying to regain his composure from your accidental scare.

"His treatments are going well," Maester Orwyle spoke or him, averting your attention from Mellos. "He has been on a steady schedule of bloodletting and leeches interchangeably throughout the day, depending on his needs, and Milk of the Poppy to ease his pains."

You nodded in response, your expression pensive but not revealing your opinions.

"My most tremendous thanks to you both," you placed your hands on each of the men's shoulders, "for taking such great care of my Grandsire. I believe he will be attending court soon if the Seven allows."

They bowed, apprehensive in their tense posture as you released them and went on their way. Your polite expression dropped as soon as they left, passing an unconvinced look to Ser Harold as he followed you in, shutting the grand doors with a thud.

You had only been inside Viserys' bed chamber once when you were here the first time in King's landing. He had shown you his miniature scale model of Old Valyria, still well taken care of and progressing despite his advancing ailments at the time, but now, covered in a thin white sheet of linen and dust, it looked forgotten. A mirror of his current predicament, reclining in a soft cushion armchair, a heavy blanket over his lap as he warmed himself by the fire.

His hand looked frail as he held his aching head, the skin blanched and loosely stretched over his bones. Viserys' once luscious silver-blonde hair was now only left with thin patches randomly growing on his scalp. There was a sore the size of a small grape on his right cheek, red and oozing with clear yellow fluid, eating away at the flesh. It would be a ghastly sight to most, but you only felt sorrow. He was such a powerful and good-natured ruler who dwindled into nothing but a husk of the man he once was.

Anger cracked your heart as King Viserys' loose sleeve lowered, revealing a school of pink circles on his forearm up to where his clothes covered him. This was the two Maester's fault. In their pursuit of a cure for whatever sickness your Grandsire had, they had made him weaker, drained him of all life and the ability to live it.

"Your Grace," Ser Harrold altered the Protector of The Realms.

His tired eyes drifted toward the Lord Commander's voice, his once bright purple eyes now sunken in with dark circles. Your neutral expression with the Maesters was a distant memory, a frustrated, almost disgusted rage replacing it. It felt wrong to view Viserys as he was. A once soft, peaceful, and gentle person was now reduced to a weak, feeble, and poorly thing, his crown nowhere to be seen.

"The young lady Targaryen is here to visit," Ser Harold said. You noticed how the King lit up at his words, rasping a faint question.

"Rhaenyra?"

You felt your soul crack, a tear threatening to fall. After all these years, he only desired his firstborn daughter, the product of his love with his first wife, heir to the Iron Throne. It was as joyful as it was sad.

"No, my King, 'tis I, your brother's firstborn." You stepped into his line of sight, black hair casting an otherworldly glow from the open window behind you.

He said your name in what you assumed was a pleasant surprise, gaunt face still happy at your unexpected visit. "My dear Niece, what do I owe the honor of your presence?" The King gasped, struggling to move himself into an upright position.

"Ha! Not many people have ever said my presence is an honor. You are to kind to me my King," you chuckled, finding a spare armchair and dragging it closer to him.

"Isn't it always an honor to be in the same room as a beautiful maiden?"

You released a loud laugh, too boisterous to be considered proper, as Viserys cracked a gaped-tooth smile, hiding the slight blush with the dip of your head. Even Ser Westerling gave a hint of a smile before bowing out and leaving you in silence.

You had seen an illness like this before as you settled. Many people around the forbidden parts of Flea Bottom all assembled in a group Ma coined the "Lepers."

In a small sector of Flea Bottom, a house resided people with a sickness similar to the symptoms that Viserys showed. She told you their disease was brought upon them as punishment for their sins. One of the many symptoms was they could not speak, for they had taken the Seven's name in vain too many times, loss of vision, for they had paid no heed to the divine light that was them, and their flesh rotting from the inside out from the guilt and regret of their actions and not seeking forgiveness.

You didn't believe anything she said as a young girl until you heard the bells the lepers wore, their version of alms to the Gods. Later in life, you realized the bells they wore was just a way for them to tell other that they were sick and to stay away, but it did not keep you from doubting...

What had Viserys done that angered the Gods so? He could still speak, albeit very strained. He still had his sight, for he had not witnessed an act of heresy. He did suffer the loss of a limb and the degeneration of his flesh from the inside out. What had eaten him so?

Your eyes had drifted to the fire in thought, contemplating over your following words with the gnawing of your lower lip.

"Where has the time gone?" You spoke first, breaking Viserys from his drifting conscience. "It seems like yesterday I was stolen from the slums of King's Landing and thrown into gowns that would cost a life of wages for me." You took a breath, sitting back in the plush velvet red chair. "A fair trade, I suppose. A life of comfort and luxury for the death of those close to me." You choose what you said carefully with the memory that the King had a notoriously big heart and a soft spot for young girls.

"I had no knowledge of what happened until the deed was done. Had I, they would have been shown mercy," Viserys panted, the strain of speaking so much in such a short period catching up to him.

You didn't doubt it. Lyra and Sara would most likely have been sent to the black cells and whipped for their crimes against the royal family, but they would still be alive. You could still see your Aunt's cerulean blue eyes crinkling in the corners from age as she laughed. Sara could be with Madam, not necessarily whoring but working a steady job. Any future would be better than none.

"I believe that, your Grace. You have always been so kind and good-natured to those around you—a good king from the beginning of his reign till the end of it." You turned to look at him, studying his hunched and nearly asphyxiated silhouette. "I feel your next decision to my words will either set that in stone or have it overshadowed by a cloud of inactive cowardess."

Viserys turned his head away from the warmth of the fire, his expression worn and tired, so, so tired, refusing to reply.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, the clicking sensation loud within your ears as you began to speak.

"You know there has been a war in the Stepstones for years. While you did initially approve of the Triarchy gaining control of the Islands and the ports, only having to pay a small sum in return for the use of them, they have become greedy. They are raising their taxes to astronomical proportions and barring ships from transporting goods into Westeros."

You leaned forward in your seat, moving to the edge of it as you stared under your lashes at him. "Tis your duty as Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms to ensure your people's safety and good health. Your continued inaction regarding the Stepstones and Lord Corlys is disheartening."

Glancing down at your hands, you chewed your lip, thinking over your following words. They were to be firm and a good push for Viserys to act, but they could not be disrespectful. "The Lord of Driftmark beseeches you. I implore you to send aid to his dying men. Princess Rhaenys has already lost so much." You gazed wistfully into the fire, a deep sadness in your tone. "A son to a lovers quarl. A daughter to the birthing bed like your first Lady Wife. You know the pain that comes with losing someone so dear. Do not make your cousin share that same burden."

The King's sunken eyes moved away from you, his breath coming out in shudders. You could not fathom what was going on inside his mind, though you could assume it was the same as yours when you thought over Aegon's actions for too long.

"What... do you... suppose... I do, then?" He questioned in staccato-like sounds, as if he had just come from running down a hall of the Red Keep and back.

"I have a plan." You tested the words on your tongue, attempting to gauge his reaction from the obscured view. "We are to send aid in the form of supplies to the Stepstones, not warriors. Anything they might need from weaponry, food, clothing, to even healing salves with Dragonstone's personal ship fleet. 'Tis not my intent to implicate the Crown so as not to upset our Dornish neighbors." Your fingers squeezed your other hand in a vice-like grip, channeling your nervousness into something physical.

"But the men of the Small Council will not listen to me. They do not see me as what your law says. They believe I am an object on their path meant to be passed by without a second glance." Standing from the cushioned chair, you walked to Viserys, taking his cold, boney hand in your warm, plump ones as you kneeled before him.

"If you truly are the king I always believed you were, you must come to the next Council meeting, declare your niece's voice to be heard, and end the war in the Stonestones without shedding any Westrosi blood."

Viserys parted his dry mouth, smacking his gums together as if he was going to speak, but was interrupted by a swift bout of pain, clutching his cheek in his withered palm. You were unsure what to do, the sudden cry of agony spiking your heart rate as you looked frantically in his chambers for something to aid him. A tiny teacup sat on his bedside table, lukewarm and half-drunk. You rushed it over to him, gently tilting the porcelain cup to his cracked lips until the pain subsided.

He released a breath, the strong scent of something botanical and bitter coming from his mouth. The smell gave you a sudden sense of nostalgia, furrowing your brows in a confused concentration as you tried to recall the name of it, only to have it evade you as Ser Harold came through the door.

"All is well, Lord Commander," you answered his unspoken question, rising from your squatted position. "His wound ails him greatly. Have the Maester's treated it with anything to your knowledge?"

Ser Harrold shook his armored head as you let out a disapproved hum, setting the cup of tea beside his chair leg. You gave your Grandsire and Uncle one last look, making sure he did not need further attention as you kissed his marred cheek, resting there for a moment longer as you squeezed his hand, assuring him and you of something you could not discern. 

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I started writing for the feast in this chapter but got barely a quarter of the way through and realized I already had 10k words, so I was like, hold up, this is way too long. Some people like longer chapters like that, but I do not. I prefer things I can read in one sitting, and something over 7k is typically the limit for most. After that, it's just waaaaay too long and bad for your eye health too. (don't laugh) I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter nevertheless, and thank you so much for your support!

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[apricia]

For ever by your side / Aemond Targaryen x reader // Part I

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Author's Notes:

I never expected such a response and I'm still a bit speechless. I just wanted to write down my thoughts without any expectations. This is my very first fanfic, so don't expect too much. And forgive spelling mistakes, because English is not my first language. I'm not even sure where this story is going, I just know I have to write it. So stay tuned.

** Warning: blood, attempted murder, the word whore (although that's pretty normal in the GoT universe), sooner or later incest

____________________________________

Chapter 1 - In need of a dragon 

"Do it."

Alyssa stared at the bowl on the table in front of her. A red-brown paste lay in it. She looked at the spoon, back at the paste, and gritted her teeth.

"You first," she demanded of her cousin.

She wasn't stupid. If Aegon wanted her to try this stuff, he had to go first. Alyssa didn't know exactly what the paste was, but she smelled the sweet spice and it smelled pungent. Probably too spicy for her taste.

Aegon shook his head. "Don't you dare, cousin?"

"Says the right one. Who is arguing here? Either we both do it, or we don't do it at all."

She felt Aemond shift restlessly in the chair next to her. Aegon had first tried to get his younger brother into a bet, but Aemond had backed down.

Coward, Aegon had called him. That's when Alyssa stepped in. She hated it when Aegon, Jace or Luke made fun of Aemond. Whenever she found out they said something mean, she made the boys regret their actions with her own hands.

More than ten years have passed since the day Alyssa became a princess and was adopted into the family of King Viserys.

Some things have changed for her, and Alyssa knew some things with absolute certainty.

First, she was a Targaryen. Daughter of Prince Daemon. Although she had never spoken to him, she benefited from his reputation. Many feared the prince, his vengefulness and ferocity, so few dared to disrespect the princess. Even if her father lived far away from her in a different land. With his new family.

Second, she was the daughter of a whore. Though Alyssa wasn't sure what that meant, or who her mother was, she knew the unnamed woman hadn't belonged to a noble house. She was no lady, no woman of honor. She heard the whispers in the palace corridors, the chatter of the servants, even the voices of her own family.

Third, she wasn't a dragon rider. Syrax's first throw had been unsuccessful. The eggs she and her cousin Aemond were given at birth had never hatched. She would never have a dragon, at least not if she didn't claim one that already existed. And Alyssa didn't believe that anymore.

Fourth, she was a green. Even if Alyssa couldn't understand what that meant when she was younger. She wasn't stupid. She saw the behavior of Queen Alicent and Princess Rheanyra. They were on different sides, even if the king didn't want to see it. Alyssa wasn't blind to the arguments, however. Her side was only certain: she belonged to the Greens, because Alicent Hightower had taken her in like a daughter. The Queen didn't get along very well with her own daughter Heleana, because Heleana was mostly in her own world. But Alyssa and Alicent shared a closer bond. So Alyssa's loyalty was unquestionable.

And fifth, her best friend, her companion and possibly the love of her life was Aemond Targaryen. He was only five months younger than Alyssa, but she had given him her heart the moment he was born, or he had stolen it from her. What exactly happened didn't matter. He was her better half. They shared the same interests, reading and studying together, spending almost every free moment together, and sharing the same fate due to their lack of a dragon. Aemond understood Alyssa without having to say anything. Just as she understood him. He was her best friend and nothing would ever change that.

Syt mirre ondoso aōha paktot. For ever by your side, that had been her vow and Alyssa would never forget those words. Carried her in her heart like the greatest treasure in all of Westeros.

Alyssa looked at Aemond, who was staring at her with wide eyes. He seemed nervous, but Aegon looked from her to the strange spice that had just been brought to the palace in the morning. It came from Bravos and no one knew exactly what it was.

"I'm a Targaryen, dear cousin. I fear nothing and I'm no coward, but you seem to be." She pulled the bowl towards her, took the spoon and dipped it in the spice until the spoon was full. She gave Aegon a challenging look, then took it into her mouth.

Her cousin's eyes widened and he jumped out of his chair.

"Alyssa..", Aemond said next to her and looked at her worried.

Alyssa swallowed and grinned triumphantly at Aegon. She felt the flames in her mouth, felt them running down her throat. Her whole mouth burned. Alyssa was sure if she opened her mouth she would spit fire. And probably turn Aegon to ashes with it.

But she wasn't about to admit how hot this stuff really was. She felt the tears in her eyes, but didn't let them roll down her cheeks.

Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and stood up.

"As you can see, my dear cousin. I am a true dragon, you apparently are not." She grinned at him proudly and then left the room. Footsteps were heard behind her and she knew instantly that it was Aemond following her.

"Alyssa, are you alright?"

She nodded haltingly. "I think my mouth is on fire, I need water."

Aemond looked at her confused, then burst out laughing. "I knew that stuff burned like fire."

"You were smarter than me. But I couldn't watch Aegon win again."

"Anyway, the look on his face was worth it. Come on, we'll get you some milk and bread so you can taste something again sometime."

Alyssa nodded and fanned herself to get the heat off her face. Aemond took her hand and walked her down to the kitchen. While she tried to get the sting out of her mouth with bread and milk, Aemond sat across from her.

"Shall we go to the library together later? New books arrived yesterday, about the history of Aegon the Conqueror." The joy on Aemond's face made Alyssa's heart beat faster and a warmth spread inside her. She loved seeing him so carefree and happy.

Alyssa made a face. "We'll have to put that off until tomorrow. I promised the Queen I'd spend time with Helaena today."

"You're my best friend, not my sister's."

"I'm both, yours and her friend, Aemond. Except that Helaena doesn't have any friends except me."

Aemond scowled at her. "She has her bugs."

"They hardly count as friends, Aemond. Why don't you just come with me?"

He shook his head. Although he loved his sister, and Alyssa was aware of it, he didn't like the crawling insects that Helaena loved so dearly. Alyssa didn't blame him. She often sat in the mud with Helaena and inspected worms, larvae or spiders. Listened to her cousin as she told her all the facts about the little animals. Helaena was... unique, as Alyssa always said. She was no ordinary girl and mostly kept to herself. However, the princess had accepted Alyssa by her side and that had led to Alicent asking Alyssa to spend time with her daughter so that she wouldn't be so lonely. What Alicent didn't know was that Helaena wasn't lonely at all. She was alone but not lonely. But the queen saw no difference.

Alyssa was fine with spending time with Helaena, after all she was like a sister to her. And she had learned that she did care what the princess had to say. At least when it came to scorpions, they were really exciting. However, she could safely do without worms and spiders.

"No thanks," Aemond grumbled. "Feel free to spend time with my sister. I'll accompany Aegon to the dragon pit."

Alyssa put down the milk jug and narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Aemond?" They shared the same fate. They were both dragonless, but unlike her cousin, Alyssa was not obsessed with the creatures. She didn't try to attend the Dragon Keeper's lessons, join Luke, Jace or Aegon while they trained with their dragons. She went for a walk with Helaena and Dreamfyre from time to time, but nothing more. She read about dragons, but she would not get any closer to the flying creatures.

Aemond avoided her gaze. "I'll have a dragon eventually, Alyssa. And I need to be prepared for that."

She grabbed his hand. "I know that one day you will be a dragon rider, but why are you putting yourself under so much pressure?"

Aemond glared at her, but his anger wasn't directed at her. "I can no longer take the humiliations of Aegon and my nephews. They tease me."

"They wouldn't if you stopped going into the dragon pit." If he would stop giving them the opportunity for their mean jokes. But it fell on deaf ears. Aemond just didn't listen to her.

"Someday they'll regret their jokes. When I have my own dragon. And then I'll take you flying, I promise. Syt mirre ondoso aōha paktot," he said softly and grabbed Alyssa's hand again.

She squeezed and gave him a smile. "Pāsan isse ao," she whispered. She had always believed in him, even when no one else did.

"Dracarys, Varmax," Jace roared and they watched as the dragon set the goat on fire. Aemond watched his nephew with envy and disgust. He didn't understand. How come his egg wasn't hatched but Luke and Jace's were? They weren't true Targaryens. At least if he believed his brother's and mother’s words. They didn't look like they had old Valyrion's blood running in them.

They were unassuming. Brown boring hair and eyes of the same color. They didn't look like him and his siblings, or like Alyssa. Aemond knew tat Alyssa’s Mother wasn't a Targaryen either. Still, his best friend looked like him. Silver-white hair, violet eyes. They both deserved dragons. Jace and Luke didn't.

He hated the fact that his nephews owned dragons, but he didn't.

"Aemond, we have a surprise for you," came his older brother's voice and Aemond turned to Aegon.

"What is it?"

"Something very special." Luke joined them and grinned at Aemond. But there was something sly in his grin. Then he disappeared inside the pit.

"You're the only one of us without a dragon. You and Alyssa. While she doesn't seem to care that she doesn't own one, I know how much you want one, brother."

"Indeed," Aemond said, not knowing what this was all leading to.

"And we felt badly about it," Aegon continued. "Precisely because without a dragon you won't have a chance to marry her."

"What are you talking about?"

"Alyssa, of course," Aegon laughed. "She's a Targaryen, well, halfway. She looks like one, at least, and as a princess, she'll only marry a true dragon rider. You understand that, don't you?"

Aemond narrowed his eyes at his brother, but felt himself tighten. He wasn't a dragon rider, neither was Alyssa. But she was his! They were bound together by an oath. He had never thought that one day Alyssa would get married, but it made sense that she would. But if she had to marry someone, it would be him!  They belonged together. Not that Aemond had already thought of marrying her. It was much more that he always saw Alyssa by his side, no matter how he imagined his life to be. She was always a part of it.

And now he shouldn't be allowed to have her just because he didn't own a dragon? Could the gods really be that cruel to him? First they refused him a dragon and now they want to take Alyssa from him... Aemond wouldn't allow that!

"So we found one for you," his older brother continued. "We wouldn't want you to loose Alyssa, would we, brother?" Aegon put a hand on his back and led him towards the tunnels that led down into the pit. There was a rumble and the earth shook beneath their feet.

"A Dragon? How?"

"The gods provide," was his brother's only explanation.

Out of the tunnel came Luke, a pig at his side. Aemond looked at the animal with hate-filled eyes. Wings were attached to its back and the pig trailed an improvised tail. Aemond clenched his fists.

"Behold - the pink dread!" said his brother and nephews in unison and then burst out laughing. Each laugh pierced Aemond's heart like a knife.

"Be sure to mount her carfully. First flight's always rough," laughed his brother. "Perhaps with her help you will be able to make Alyssa yours."

Aegon grunted in Aemond's ear and his nephews did the same before leaving Aemond alone. Humiliated and angry.

His father wouldn't let Alyssa marry anyone else, would he? His mother knew how important Alyssa was to him and she herself had taken the princess to her heart. They wouldn't let Alyssa be taken from you, would they?

But if only a dragon rider was allowed to marry Alyssa, then Aemond would become a dragon rider. He stared into the darkness of the tunnel and clenched his jaws. He would have a dragon! For Alyssa!

Meanwhile, Alyssa sat alone with her cousin in their chambers. Also coming by ship from Bravos were two scorpions, which Helaena proudly presented to Alyssa.

"Like spiders, scorpions also have eight legs. They also have two tentacles with claws, like a crab," Helaena said, holding the little creature in front of Alyssa's nose.

"With the claws and the poisonous sting, the animals defend themselves in case of danger or kill their prey."

Alyssa looked from the scorpions to her cousin. "How can you be sure that he won't stab you with it and you die? I imagine death by poisoning to be extremely painful." She had respect for the little creature and avoided getting too close to the stinger, let alone picking up the scorpion like Helaena did.

However, Helaena looked at him with a tenderness on her face that Alyssa found incomprehensible. She looked at Aemond like that, maybe sometimes at Alicent, but not an animal that could kill her in seconds.

"He won't harm me."

"If you say that."

Alyssa was about to ask a question when the door opened without knocking. Into the room came a man in a black robe that Alyssa didn't recognize. He didn't look like the king's guard who had been at the door when they'd arrived.

"Who are you?" Alyssa wanted to know and looked at the man curiously.

The man approached her and pulled a knife from his belt. Alyssa's eyes widened in horror and next to her, Helaena, who seemed to be in her right mind, began to scream.

"Death to the Targaryens," the man hissed, lunging at the girls. Alyssa pushed Helaena aside and started calling for help as well. Someone had to hear her and come and rescue them both.

She was just a girl, just eleven years old. What could she do against a grown man who was armed? Nothing at all. But Alyssa refused to die today. She wouldn't let this man hurt Helaena.

She heard shouts and hasty footsteps, and Alyssa knew they wouldn't have to last long before help would arrive. So she fought. She snatched the scorpion from Helaena's hand and threw it at her attacker. He screamed, but threw the venomous beast away before the deadly sting could hit him.

Then the blade came into Alyssa's field of vision. She didn't think about it any further, but threw up her arms.

Her hands gripped the weapon and she felt the pain a split second later as the blade dug into her flesh. She gripped the knife with both hands and pushed the man away as best she could.

"Princesses," came the familiar voice of Ser Harrold Westerling.

Alyssa screamed as the man was pulled away from her and the knife fell to the ground. Her knees buckled under her and she sank onto the cool marble floor beneath her. She was shaking, trembling all over and barely aware of what was happening around her. She heard Helaena screaming and crying through a veil. She heard more guards storm the room, someone calling for the king and queen. And then she saw two pairs of boots come into view.

Ser Harrold knelt beside her. "Let me see, Princess."

Alyssa stared at him through a veil of tears. It hurt, it really hurt. Her palms were soaked in blood. Two deep cuts adorned her skin and the blood continued to flow incessantly. She whimpered as the commander pulled her into his arms. "You were very brave, princess, like a true Targaryen. A maester will look into this, but I'm sure it's only a flesh wound."

Alyssa nodded haltingly. The adrenaline had left her body, she felt the exhaustion, felt the fear and began to sob.

"Everything will be fine, Princess, I promise you."

Some time later, Alyssa was sitting in the Queen's chamber with Helaena. Alicent was beside them with anger. The man who attacked the girls was in the dungeon and was being questioned. The queen had calmed her daughter while Maester Orwyle examined Alyssa's wounds and sewed them up. Alyssa hated every second of it. She watched as the thread and needle pushed through her skin, over and over again. At first she had flinched at every bite, but now she sat motionless.

"It'll heal, won't it?" Alicent asked while rubbing Helaena's back soothingly.

"It will. The scars will remain, but will fade over time. However, the princess will not be able to use her hands for the next few days. She will need help."

"Thank you Maester."

Alyssa hated being dependent on help from others. But she watched silently as the maester bound her hands so that she could not even move her fingers. As if instead of two hands she only had two lumps, as if she were a cripple.

Alicent knelt in front of Alyssa and smiled at her. "Thank you, Alyssa. You protected Helaena and made your family proud. I am so glad und thankful that you are alright."

Alyssa nodded. She would always protect her family, no matter the cost.

A knock sounded and a guard entered the room.

"Your Grace," the guard said, dragging Aemond with him.

Alicent, Alyssa and Helaena whirled on the two at the same time.

"Aemond," said the Queen, leaving Alyssa's side. She herself looked at her friend with wide eyes and wanted to get up from the chair she was sitting on, but the maester prevented her.

"What have you done?" the queen wanted to know angrily. The princesses had been attacked and now she had to take care of the prince, who broke the rules again.

"He did it again," Helaena murmured and looked at her brother blankly.

"After how many times you've been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers? After everything that happened today, I don't want to have to deal with such nonsense anymore!" The anger was clearly audible in the queen's voice.

Aemond wasn't looking at his mother, his eyes were fixed on the floor. However, Alyssa knew him too well. He had been humiliated and he was ashamed. What had Aegon, Luke and Jace done this time? Alyssa wanted to clench her fists, but couldn't. Her hands were so bandaged that she could barely use them.

"They made me do it," Aemond yelled, jerking his head up.

"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding."

Alyssa narrowed her eyes. She didn't know how many more times Alicent wanted to have this discussion with Aemond. Her son wouldn't listen to her. If he didn't listen to Alyssa, he didn't listen to anyone.

"They gave me a pig," Aemond then roared, and a hiss escaped Alyssa.

It was only then that he noticed that she was there too. He looked at her, blush gracing his cheeks, his eyes full of tears, tears of anger. Aemond looked away from Alyssa. He didn't know why she was in his mother's chambers, but his own feelings controlled him so that he couldn't think about it.

"A what?" Alicent asked blankly.

"They say they found a dragon for me. So I can claim.." Aemond fell silent, but his gaze slid to Alyssa, who looked at him in horror.

What had he wanted to claim? The dragon? His rightful place in this family? She didn't know what he was talking about, but she understand his anger.

Alicent also followed her son's gaze, but she knew immediately what Aemond was getting at and what it all had to do with Alyssa. She knew her youngest son's feelings for his cousin. She even supported them.

Ignoring the Maester's protesting words, Alyssa got up and started to leave the room.

"Princess", the maester called afterwards. "Where do you want to go? Your hands.."

"I'll find Aegon, Luke and Jace and give them the treatment they deserve." She was filled with anger. She hated it when someone treated Aemond badly. No one was allowed to treat him like that, not even his brother or nephews.

Alicent stopped Alyssa and pulled her back. "You will do no such thing. You must rest, Alyssa. You and your hands need rest."

Alyssa just snorted and tucked her bandaged hands behind her back when she felt the blank look from Aemond on her, who didn't seem to know what had happened in the princess' chambers a few moments ago. Alyssa didn't want to show him her injuries, didn't want him to worry about her. As she worried about him.

When the queen was satisfied that Alyssa would not leave the room, she turned back to her son and placed both hands on his shoulders.

"You will have a dragon one day," she tried to encourage Aemond and calm him down.

"He'll have to close an eye," Helaena said quietly and Alyssa frowned at her cousins words. Sometimes Helaena said strange things. And sometimes these strange things came true.

"I know it," the Queen continued.

"They all laughed," Aemond said quietly, staring at the floor.

Alyssa would love to run to him and hug him, but she knew he didn't want that at the moment. He didn't want her pity. He didn't want to show weakness in front of her, so she stayed where she was. But her anger towards Aegon, Luke and Jace only increased. If she could use her hands, she would beat up the three boys herself.

Alicent pulled Aemond into her arms and held him tight. Over the queen's shoulder, Alyssa and Aemond exchanged a look. She gave him a hesitant smile and nodded, as if she too was sure that one day he would have a dragon. Aemond tried to return the smile, but his eyes drifted to her hands and he frowned in confusion. He looked questioningly at Alyssa.

She just shook her head and hid her hands behind her back. Everything was fine, she was fine. Heleana was fine. And the man who did this to her was already behind bars.

Alyssa was safe. Although she could still see and feel the man and his blade as soon as she closed her eyes. 

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#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #house of dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #for ever by your side

[starg1rlie]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⟡ rating. fluff ( general audience )

⟡ prompt. "calla lily" ( getting married to character )

notes. joined ying's lil' milestone event , hehe , hopefully this doesn't botch on me . . . personally , weddings to me are so vv cute and magical !! ( also pardon if the wedding vows don't match the ones that you're used to , i just did it from memory ) reblogs and likes are appreciated ! | wc. 852 words ( 4,742 characters )

⟡ feat. various x fem! reader ( tartaglia, ayato, diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, thoma )

ㅤㅤWhat a feeling it is to be wed to someone, to be linked to the love of your life, to feel such joy and happiness as you look into your spouse’s eyes and know that your unconditional love is reciprocated, maybe even multiplied by tenfold. Marriage. Wedding. Vows. 

ㅤㅤYou liked to replay that night, the night he proposed to you, in your head as the two of you began wedding preparations. Thinking of the engagement ring sliding down your finger as you made plans for the wedding cake (he preferred a cake with the sweetness level lowered accordingly to match his palette), thinking of the way he swept you up in his arms while you were being fitted for your dress, thinking about the amount of unbridled affection and love in his eyes as you prepared yourself to do a practice walk down the aisle you’d walk on come next morning.

ㅤㅤ“You’re beautiful,” he murmured that night as he wrapped you up in a blanket and pulled you into his warm embrace. “You’re amazing.” He then pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’re all that I could ever want or need.” He burrowed his face into the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning out against your collarbone, eliciting a giggle from you. “You’re my everything.”

ㅤㅤYou remembered quite vividly how happy you felt in that moment, simply you and him, tangled limbs under the bedsheets, thinking of the future that you two would share together. You remembered linking your hand with his, fingers lacing through his own, and staring into his eyes, his dazzling and mesmerizing eyes. You remembered watching him sleep, head propped up by one hand, the other still clasping your fiance’s, watching his chest rise and fall steadily with each intake of breath, admiring the curve of his jawline, drinking in every detail of his face, his body, his entire being so it would be permanently seared into your brain. 

ㅤㅤAnd so when the fateful day finally came, when you slipped into the wondrous dress your friends had picked out with you one night, when you held onto the bouquet of flowers in your hands tightly, when you adjusted the veil so that it would obscure your face (he’d chastise you for wearing it, covering your beautiful face from him, and you’d simply brush it off with a “it’s tradition”), you felt ready. Actually, scratch that, you felt more than ready. The procession began; someone was playing the wedding march on the piano, a child (no doubt Jean and Lisa’s; they recently adopted an adorable little girl) was wailing before she was soothed by her mothers, and even a few sniffles and tearful gazes. What a wonderful day it was to be married, to be wed to the love of your life.

ㅤㅤ“Do you, (Name), take this strapping young man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?” the priest inquired, looking up from his book. 

ㅤㅤYou nodded, murmuring the words “I do” as the man proceeded, asking the same question to your soon-to-be husband.

ㅤㅤ“And do you, sir, take this lovely young lady to be your lawfully wedded wife?” 

ㅤㅤHe looked at you for a moment, a smile flickering over his lips, before nodding firmly. “I do.”

ㅤㅤ“And so, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you, husband, and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

ㅤㅤA cheer rose up from the people seated within the quaint little chapel he’d picked out, everyone rising to their feet and clapping loudly. You turned from your now-husband to wave at them all, blowing kisses towards everyone before turning back to face him. 

ㅤㅤ“Hey,” he said softly, quick to pull you in by the waist, using his free hand to push up your veil to get a better look at your face.

ㅤㅤ“Hey,” you replied with a small laugh, tugging off the elbow-length gloves you were currently wearing, placing a hand delicately against his cheek, cupping it and rubbing a thumb over the skin soothingly.

ㅤㅤ“So. We’re married now, huh?” He said with a low chuckle, that smirk never leaving his face as he slipped his hand under your chin, tilting you up closer to his face. “Who woulda thought? If someone told me ten years ago that I would marry my best friend, I would believe them to have rocks in their head.”

ㅤㅤYou tittered. “Yeah, I wouldn’t believe them either. But here we are.”

ㅤㅤ“Here we are,” he repeated, fondness clear in his tone. His eyes darted down to your lips, ignoring the ongoing chants of “kiss him!”, instead, initiating the kiss first, turning his head to angle his lips properly, locking against yours. The cheers rose again once more, noise amplified even louder, ringing in your ears as he swept you up in his arms, true bridal-style.

ㅤㅤ“Shall we go, wife?” he said with a grin.

ㅤㅤYou beamed at him, pecking his cheek. “We shall, husband.”

📮 tagging. no one yet ! fill out this form if you want to be tagged (@i23kazu )

#ambrosial; i23kazu's 1.5k event #[ 🍰 ] 𝙗𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙 ; completed works ( naka - chan !) #ayato x reader #ayato genshin impact #diluc x reader #diluc genshin impact #zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia genshin impact #ajax x reader #ajax genshin impact #childe x reader #childe genshin impact #thoma x reader #thoma genshin impact #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham genshin impact #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #thoma x y/n #thoma x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n

[lemonssavelives]

Zohakuten Headcanons (Modern)

Zohakuten is 17-18 (Originally) Depending on the story he'll be different ages like (10,12,15)

Zohakuten is the most spoiled in his family since he is the youngest (He'll get so many gifts for Christmas and his birthday)

During middle school Zoha found it very easy to make friends with the girls instead (He had little to no guy friends)

When he got into High School, he met his current group of friends.

During middle school so many girls liked him to the point on Valentines Day his desk would be covered with cards, sweets, and baskets which did make the other guys jealous (He has rizz but doesn't know how to handle it)

He's one of the popular boys because he's handsome and that a lot of the girls know he is the little brother of the handsome Hantengu Quadruplets (He doesn't even know he's popular or the reason why)

He's a total mama's boy

Loves Mario.

He was so excited when the Mario Movie came out that he forced all his brothers into one of his cars and paid for everything with Karaku's credit card

He isn't allowed to use his own money so he usually has one of his brothers or all of their credit cards

Has too many Mario video games

Zoha likes to put stickers on everything including his brothers. (Karaku wasn't so happy to be covered in stickers)

Has some allergies (crab, Crab Rangoon, some seafoods, daisy's, and pollen)

When he was little he was in the hospital a lot either because he had a really bad allergic reaction or he got beaten up. Luckily his mom was there (Their mother happens to be a nurse so she always kept him company along with his brothers and father)

Zoha first fight was in Elementary school at recess because two older boys had the great idea to bully him because he was small.

Zoha did in fact win but he was beaten up pretty badly and his brother made sure those really learnt a lesson the next time they saw him

Zoha ended up in the hospital because he had a broken arm and a bruised face

Mama wasn’t so happy about it and sued the parents and had the two boys in juvie

He is 5 years younger than the quads/clones and 7 years younger than Hantengu and Urami

Grew up with his cousins 24/7

At the age 15 he got his first girlfriend (who is now his current girlfriend)

Still cool with the ladies to the point it brings Karaku to tears that his lil bro has so many girl contacts in his phone

He stays out really late and only comes home to let his brothers know that he is alive before leaving again (Only one the weekends and summer break)

Rest of the time he is home since he doesn't really go out unless it's for food or friends

His group of friends consist of too many girls, Daki, Nakime, Akaza, Kokushibo (Zoha's "sugar daddy". He just gives money to Zoha and he jokes about him being a Sugar Daddy to him), Douma, Kaigaku, Gyutaro (Zoha is like an older brother to him), Rui (Zoha is that one senior/Junior that adopted a freshman), Gyokko

Daki one time forced him to be a cheerleader for an entire year. He wasn't too happy

The only time Zoha will get into a fight is when someone is being highly disrespectful to one of his female friends which does get him suspended

Decides when he wants to go to school

His brothers can't really do a thing about it though it pisses Urami off when he goes to make sure he is awake but finds the quads and Zoha sleeping (The quads tried and failed)

Sometimes he leaves at 1 in the morning because Douma wanted food

He's truly only nice to his family and friends

The only one person who can truly disrespect him or piss him off without getting hurt is his cousin

His hair is curly and long. It goes down to his thighs but if straightened it'll go to his calves

He does cut it to a reasonable length like the length the Quads hair is at or his canon hair cut

Hantengu snd Urami have the same length hair as Zoha so Hantengu usually styles it for him

Daki likes to style his hair but certain styles makes him highly upset with her

Throws money at the problem or his fists

Looks mean but is truly nice

Likes to go to the gym with his brothers or Akaza

They get milkshakes afterwards

Not a big fan on pick me and snobby girls

If he is sick Sekido is the one who tends to stay home with him and gives him medicine and his blanket

Rarely goes to sleepovers because of Sekido packing his bag or that he wants to go home

In elementary school he was 4'10, middle school 5'2, currently he is 5'11, in the near future he'll be the same height as the quads

Many people find it hard to believe that he was born with purple hair. Most of the time it looks black in certain spaces/seasons, but if like you look closely with a flashlight or if he's out in the sun it's a dark purple (A unique feature he shares with the Quads)

Rich boy but keeps in his lane

The car he drove when he was 15 gave it away that he came from a rich family

Most of the time he is on the phone with his brothers, cousin, or Daki (In school)

He gets kicked out of class because of it

A sucker for sweets mainly chocolate

He's either brought lunch from Aizetsu or Urogi or brings his own lucnh

He is coddled a lot by the Quads mainly Sekido (doesn't matter if he big grown he still the baby)

Nonchalant attitude

Rui is sometimes nervous to go with him to different events or in general late at night

Zoha usually takes Rui to small parties or out to eat

Zoha once bought Rui several pet spiders because he got tired of hearing Rui complain about not having one

Tiktok Famous

He is known for having long hair/story times while he does his hair/doing one of his girl friends make up while doing a story time (During the time he was a cheerleader he learnt how to do makeup)

He didn’t go to school until he was 5

He was homeschooled because of his allergies

When he did go to school he was taken out around spring time because of his allergies and how he reacted to them.

When his brothers would do their homework he would sit in one of their laps and watch them or color a picture while they do their homework

The brothers spent half a month trying to convince their parents to let Zoha go to school with them

That's really all I have for now....I like the Senior adopting a freshman thing for Zoha and Rui along with the Hantengu's being rich

#kny zohakuten #zohakuten #modern au #kny au #hantengu clones #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #head canon #rui demon slayer #sekido #aizetsu #akaza #kny douma #kny daki

[amerrierworld]

Keep Me Close (pt 1?)

Summary: You have resolved nearly all the problems in the village except one. And she’s unhappy with both you and Alcina.

Characters: Alcina x you, the Lords, the entire village!

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: None (yet) but might have some NSFW soon. Some angsty stuff coming up. A bit AU/out of character, you might find it a little absurd but I just want them to have a happy ending okay ;-; 

Alcina couldn’t believe you had managed to convince her to throw such a massive party. Somehow, your attempts at making peace with the village and expanding her wine production to more than just humans had paid off. 

Everything was going wonderfully. Until Mother Miranda had shown up. 

The ballroom had been lavishly decorated with candles and drapery. Each of the Lords had shown up dressed to the nines with a little entourage, and Alcina let you handpick staff and villagers to invite that you knew and trusted; friends, acquaintances, you named it, and they were there. 

Karl had accused Alcina of becoming soft with a human at her side. Alcina had smiled and blew a plume of cigarette smoke in his face, neither agreeing nor denying him. 

The truth was, she was much happier this way. You brought joy and delight to the castle. With the weather steadily warming at this time of year, you had even taken it upon yourself to take the daughters outside to blow off steam when they were restless and begging to kill some poor soul at work in the kitchens. 

At one point, they had managed to adopt a young Vârcolac wandering through the woods. You had no idea how, but the beastly canine was now their personal pet, as obedient as a lapdog and as murderous as the lycans. 

Sure, maiming and death still occurred occasionally, but hey, you weren’t a miracle-worker. Trespassers were still killed on sight, traitors and disobedience were awarded with limb-chopping or decapitation depending on the Lady’s mood, but you were quite proud to say that the Castle was much more welcoming, and more importantly, clean. 

You had revitalized Castle Dimitrescu, and had rejuvenated some of the humanity in the Dimitrescu family itself. Gosh, what an accomplishment. Though it didn’t happen overnight. There was enough blood spillage, shouting, skillful avoidance and trickery to last you a lifetime. But after all that, and after a wonderful new deal with the Duke to provide top-quality livestock for fresh blood and meat in the Castle, you felt you deserved a nice celebration. The farmers had agreed to tend to the Castle’s new livestock in exchange for peace. There was enough to feed everyone what they needed, and in return their families and friends were protected. Now, eating human was an occasional delicacy for Alcina and her daughters, and Alcina felt she enjoyed that a lot more than barbaric slaughter and tearing limbs without care. It felt like a luxury and a treat, though a little twisted.

The night you had convinced Alcina of your ways was when Dani, restless and out for blood, had held you with her blade at your throat, screaming obscenities and demanding her mother let her cut your throat so that you would stop meddling in their affairs. She called you a whore for sleeping with Alcina yet going behind their backs to change their way of life. Alcina nearly let her daughter kill you, thinking what’s one more? when three of the maids had burst from the kitchens and cellars, yanking Dani off of you. One lost a hand, another lost her head. Alcina stared in wonder as the women crowded you and declared they’d protect you, because none had shown such care to them in all their time at the Castle, despite being allowed to live. 

It had made Alcina long for love and loyalty again. Ruling with fear only got your so far, and she questioned if her morals were worth thinking about again. And what’s worse, you didn’t want the power over the staff that you had given yourself. You simply wanted things to be quiet and peaceful and good.

And then on the next day, when you made amends with Dani despite her threatening to kill you again by offering a fresh dish of raw meat and blood, Alcina realized she had been falling in love with you all along. 

Now, Alcina watched you from her throne-like seat, leisurely laid back with a fresh cigarette and a newly fitted cream dress adorned with subtle crystals, reminiscent of her jazz performances when she’d be decked out in sequins and dazzling pearls. She had a fur boa draped over her arms, and exuded the power of a rich matriarch. 

Alcina had never seen the grand ballroom like this in all her years under Miranda’s service. As a younger woman before the Cadou, yes, there were many lavish feasts like this. But since the world took a dark turn in this small part of Romania, there had not been this much laughter in a room for decades.

You were swinging from one dancing partner to another. The Duke had provided a lovely band to perform and you took every opportunity to dance with their music. Your shoes were tucked by Alcina’s seat after you complained about your toes hurting. Alcina had smiled and slipped them off for you, kissed your hand, and sent you on your way to the dance floor. You were dancing with the baker now, who had learned to make blood-infused bread specifically for the Castle, and mastered new pastry skills for your sweet tooth alone.

“Oh Mother, this feast is hard to resist,” Daniela groaned pathetically by her mother’s side, pushing her raw lamb around on her plate. “I remember a time when all these people would have been appetizers, dinner, dessert, and then some!”

“Calm now, Dani,” Alcina scolded lightly. “You’ve been doing so well. What is it now, four weeks?”

“Almost five,” she pouted. “Can’t I have a cheat day?”

“If you do, Y/N might be cross with you.”

“Not even one of the mean ones?” 

Alcina scanned the crowd. Everyone was in good spirits and seemingly well-behaved. There was one guest however, that Alcina didn’t like. He was too much of a flirt and far too cocky for his own good. He had tried to charm you on the way in, much to your dismay and to the amusement and jealousy of Alcina. He was properly drunk, hanging by one of the tables with another glass in hand, and not even trying to hide the fact that he was eyeing a few of the maids passing by with plates and glasses, who seemed most uncomfortable. 

“Hmmm,” Alcina thoughtfully blew out a smoke ring. “Maybe that one. But don’t make a scene, Dani. And don’t make it obvious.”

Daniela giggled devilishly and poofed away in a herd of flies.

“Must you encourage her so, Mother?” Bela sighed from her seat at the table. Out of the three, she had been the most strong-willed, coming up with new enticing ways to eat raw meat and blood to keep their appetite up. Daniela, however, always had more of a taste for the hunt than the actual meal at the end, and that was even harder to resist. 

“We both know a cranky Daniela is much worse than a satisfied one,” Alcina hummed, sipping her glass of wine. 

“Perhaps she just needs a lover,” Cassandra interjected. “That should leave her satisfied enough.”

“And who do you suggest is mad enough to put up with our sister?” Bela scoffed, chucking a piece of veggie at Cassie’s face. She burst into a cloud of flies to avoid the impact, and the meagre carrot rolled around under the table. It was just for decoration anyway. 

The Lords each had a seat amongst the Dimitrescus. Donna had Angie perched on her lap, who was tittering away with nonsense and annoyance. The most intriguing guest was a curious masked individual that had come in quietly next to Donna. They appeared genderless, though being clothed in robes of deep, dark blue, and not speaking a word made it hard to decipher what kind of person Donna brought in by her side. Still, Alcina was pleased to see her sister had finally found a partner of some sorts. 

Karl had brought another monstrosity of an experiment that was much more behaved than the last one. It resembled something between a large dog and a small horse, and made no noise. You had made sure the half-mechanical creature was well looked after. Freshly oiled, and freshly fed. 

Sal, poor, lonely Sal, seemed much more in his spirits than usual. You had convinced him to take ownership of his own life, and find something to do besides pining over Miranda’s affections. With your care and attention, you had discovered how much of a romantic Salvatore Moreau actually was. He needed things to romanticize his life. So, to add onto your list of crazy, silly ideas, you helped him find a skincare routine, gifted him a modified typewriter that he could use with ease, and a pile of water-friendly toys to splash around with. 

Alcina had been flabbergasted at the sight of a happy, laughing Sal emerging from his water-filled home. He told them how he had finished another one of his short stories, and the exercise of chasing weights at the bottom of his lake had made him much more content. You had laughed and clapped excitedly for him. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” Alcina sighed that evening as you crawled into bed with her. “You have more positive hope in your pinky than I do in my whole body. What on earth possessed you to give Sal a moisturizer?”

“Hey, those waters aren’t the best for your skin you know,” you tutted. “Sometimes a little self-care goes a long way. Turns our a lot of his moping has to do with those sores and humps -- they’re apparently very painful. Aren't you glad he’s not whining for Miranda and begging for someone to love him now?”

Needless to say, they all loved you. And they were all thriving because of you.

That is why no one has told Miranda about you.

Alcina knew Miranda would find out about the party and that she had not been invited. She’d be in for a scolding of a lifetime, probably a bit of torture, but she knew she could handle Miranda on her own. That wouldn’t be the problem. This way, Miranda’s anger would only be pointed at her, and not you. Heaven forbid the priestess ever found out what hold you had over Alcina. You wouldn’t survive a second in her presence. She begged whatever gods or demons existed that Miranda would never find out about you.

Alcina felt another deep sense of dread fill her, and suddenly had the urge to drag your to her side and keep you close. Perhaps the party was too large. Perhaps not this many people should have come. Perhaps--

As if on cue, you appeared by her side. Face shining with a glowing layer of sweat from dancing, you took her cup of wine and took a deep swig -- the taste of blood no longer disgusted you. Alcina felt her worries melt away and smiled happily.

“Hello, darling,” she said softly, leaning down to greet you with a deep kiss. You giggled as she teasingly nipped at your bottom lip. “What happened to your dance with the baker?”

“Oh, he stubbed his toe. He needed to sit out for a second,” you pointed to where the baker was sitting at a table, who was rubbing his feet with a grimace on his face. 

Alcina chuckled deeply. “No one can keep up with you, can they?”

“Well, one person can,” you replied. “But she’s refusing to dance with me!” You tugged at the boa and she scooped you up to set you in her lap, back pressed against her chest as you surveyed the masses.

“Darling, I hardly have the grace of a dancer anymore. I would knock over at least five dancers in the process. You don’t want to dance with me.”

“What if they all sat down and it was just us?”

“Then I would mess up out of sheer panic,” Alcina grinned. “What if I stubbed your toes? Crushed them? I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“Ugh, fine.” You turned your head up to look at her. “But you better make it up to me tonight.”

Alcina gave you a chaste kiss and then trailed her lips down your cheek to your neck, as a strong, possessive hand curled around your middle. “It’s a deal. You may live to regret that statement.”

“I doubt it,” you hummed softly, squirming as warmth filled your body at her lips caressing your skin. “Maybe we should just go to bed now.”

“And leave all the festivities?” She tutted. “Your guests will be disappointed.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about it all night. You always do,” you huffed, your hand grasping Alcina’s. “I’ve been thinking about it too, you know.”

Her hand clutched you more tightly, and a low growl came from her throat just behind you. “Don’t tempt me, dear. I might strip you now and take you right here until you pass out. Wouldn’t that be a sight for them all?” 

The end of her sentence had dissolved into a low, hungry whisper. Possessive, demanding Alcina was always your favourite. You grinned, lifting her hand from your form and kissing along the knuckles. 

“Patience, my love. Before you know it, the night will be over.”

Suddenly, Daniela appeared in front of them, fresh blood dripping from her scythe and mouth, probably from the drunkard that Alcina had pointed out. You were about to scold her for going against her new diet, but her wide, panicked eyes caught both yours and Alcina’s attention first. The night was definitely over now.

“It’s Miranda,” Dani’s shaky voice was unmistakable. “She’s at the door.”

#merry writes #amerrierworld #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #Lady Dimitrescu #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil fanfic #reader insert #i'm going back to my roots #alcina fics

[stray-kaz]

Daddy and The Fox : a Nikolai Lantsov x f!reader drabble

Summary: Nikolai’s ten year old daughter Sasha adopts a Fjerdan snow fox. (Please pretend the divider fox is white).

Faint footsteps growing steadily louder, a delighted echo. Daddy, look what I found!

Inside the war room, Nikolai cocked his head to the door, listening and not to the matter before him. Reclining next to him, your head on his shoulder, you, too, heard it, and glanced at the door and then up at him. He winked at you, the heavy hand on your thigh squeezing gently.

“Don’t worry, my love” he murmured. “It’s probably another hothouse rose she’s discovered.”

You closed your eyes and snuggled closer to him, ignoring his soft chuckle as you grabbed his hand and moved it to rest on your head. He stroked your hair, returning his attention to the ledgers and maps scattered on the table in front of him.

Then the door crashed open and your eyes opened wide, your feet hit the floor and you sat up straight, swivelling on your chair to see your daughter barrel into the room and right up to her father, something white and wriggling caught in her arms.

“That’s not a hothouse rose, husband” you said quietly, arching an eyebrow at Nikolai.

He turned to meet Sasha’s blue eyes, wide and pleading. You bit your lip as you almost felt his heart sink. You put your hands on his back and peered over his shoulder at your only child, and the small white snow fox in her embrace.

“Oh, dear, Nikolai” you mumbled in his ear. “What to do, hmm?”

He side eyed you narrowly, his lips set in a firm line, before putting on a smile for Sasha.

“What’s this, pumpkin?” he asked, as he felt you shake with laughter against his back.

“Daddy, this is Snowy and I love him. He’s mine. Can I keep him? Please? Please, please, Daddy?” she pleaded, giving him the full force of his own eyes reflected back at him.

Nikolai swallowed hard, finding himself faced with the impossible: the Lantsov blues paired with an elfin face and your winsome determination. He was doomed right from the start. He had no chance.

“Maybe we should ask your mother...” he suggested, turning to you.

You snorted rather indelicately and held up your hands, shaking your head.

“Oh no, your majesty, this is all on you” you told him, grinning puckishly.

Nikolai scowled at you and swung back around to Sasha, spreading his hands wide in supplication to his ten year old.

“Foxes bite, pumpkin” he tried, eyebrows furrowed together. “I don’t know if it’s wise to keep one in the palace. What if he bites you? Or one of your ladies maids?”

Her face scrunched with determination and her blue eyes flared.

“He won’t, I promise!” she declared. “I’ll train him. He’ll be a good fox, Daddy, I promise.”

“Yeah, Daddy, he’ll be a good fox” you mumbled behind him. “The best in show.”

Nikolai elbowed you gently in the ribs and you rocked backwards, stifling howling giggles. He sighed and gave Sasha a stern look, the sternest he could manage in the face of such wide eyed innocence.

“You train him” he said firmly. “If he bites a single person, he has to go outside.”

Sasha nodded ecstatically and tiptoed up to kiss his cheek, the fox squirming against her chest.

“Oh, thank you, thank you! I love you, Daddy!”

She turned and flew out of the room again, beaming.

“Daddy needs to work on his disciplinary tactics” you murmured, teasing.

Nikolai whipped round so fast you had to blink, and he pointed a finger at you, his sky eyes narrowed.

“I have plenty of workable disciplinary tactics” he growled. “Try this one on for size, sweetheart. You just hung me out to dry, so no sex for a week.”

You tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t. You smiled at Nikolai and reached for his face, holding his cheek gently and running a thumb over his tightly closed lips; they parted slightly, as you had known they would, his eyes darkening.

“Let me know when you give up, my king” you said gently. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

And with that, you stood up and walked out, in search of your daughter and her new pet.

That night, after Nikolai had helped clean up muddy paw prints and ushered Sasha into bed, he climbed in behind you in the four poster he had commissioned specially. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his nose against the back of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

“I give in” he whispered, and brushed his lips across your bare shoulder.

You turned in his arms and pressed your lips to his in a hard, short kiss.

“I knew it.”

Tagging: @writingmysanity​

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x female reader #liss writes #shadow and bone fic