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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 2 months

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Dancing with a wolf (FemalereaderocxAemondxAegon)

Aemond x reader x Aegon

Tags: Showsetting, blackmail, piracy, warcrimes.

🔷Summary: A long time ago, you paid the ultimate price for Prince Aemond's hand. And now your sister summons you back to court.

🔷Author's note: Dark.

🔷Wordcount :7000

🔷Warnings: Piracy, child-abuse and mentions of traumas and blood and gore.

Dancing with a Wolf

The Red Keep had not changed in years. It was the same old horrible looking building, with the same boring old towers and the same horrible people that called it their home. You look out the window of the carriage, quickly closing the curtains when a single sunray finds its way into your carriage. Today is a sunny, lovely day. So unlike how you feel inside.

You are irritated, hollow of the greed you have been feeling for a while now, as well as that anxious choking feeling you had hoped to be rid of for years now. You prided yourself into not feeling fear anymore, or not allowing yourself to feel it. Yet here you are, back in the city of Hell, King’s Landing on no one’s order than your sweet darling twin sister, Adalina. Or is it Princess Adalina now? You wouldn’t know. You haven’t written a word to that brat since you were exiled.

The Carriage finally drives up to the familiar courtyard, and when you are nearing the gates, you notice there is blood under your fingernails from where you slammed your fingers too deep into your own skin. You quickly wipe it away, on your skirt. The driver of your carriage, Haryold takes notice of your behavior. ‘’Ye Nervous, Miss?’’

You huff, denying it to yourself. As long as you don’t admit your feelings are real, they won’t feel real. ‘’That’s a ridiculous observation, Haryold.’’

He continues, stabbing the poorly healed wound.

‘’It’s just…Last time you were here, you were in quite the trouble.’’ Memories flash back to you, as you pretend that they are not your own. You are not the same girl you were back then.

‘’I don’t pay you to have an opinion on my personal matters. People who lurk around in caskets, shouldn’t be surprised if they ended up in one.’’ You warn him with that and one of your glares. Haroyld nods, understanding he crossed a line and does not speak when riding the carriage to the entrance of the keep.

There, two servants help you out of the carriage. One offers his arm, the other is prepared to help you with your feet. You drop your bag in the hand of the man, and after that you jump out of the carriage, landing on your leather shoes, glancing up at the sun and the castle.

It is quiet in the courtyard. Adalia invited you here, yet she isn’t here. You would be insulted, if you didn’t hate her. You walk towards the castle doors, your boots leaving muddy footprints from your last trip. A page or servant, someone who works for the castle, as you didn’t bother to keep up with titles of the staff, rushes after you. ‘’Lady! Lady Ethel! You must wait.’’

You turn on your heel, facing him. You smile, revealing your glimmering teeth, folding your hands on your back. ‘’I’m just visiting my sister’s future home. If you like me to report that you had a issue with me, be my guest.’’ You wait for him to deny that claim, that she’s an angel, a gift sent by the Seven. Instead of that he bows his head, letting you, as a dog rolling over. You smile, patting his shoulder and tossing him a coin, before entering the Red Keep.

—-------------

The smells, the lights and the damn banners. It all brings you back. You tried to look as yourself as much as possible. Your parents don’t need to be pleased. Your hair is loose, wild, untamed, unbothered. It is as wild as a river, as deep as an ocean and endless as the sea. Your good eye has a beautiful black line around it, highlighting the color of your pupil, and your other eye is shining as beautifully as ever. The silversmith did an amazing job, fitting your new eye. It is a small, pure silver orb with a citrine in it, symbolizing the pupil and the eye you lost. Your dress is a simple but practical dress in the colors of the Dornish.

Inside the castle, someone awaits you already. Two guards size you up, narrowing their eyes almost at the same time. ‘’I am here for Princess Adalia.’’ You tell one of them, when watching the other. The two men share a glance.

He judges your poor quality dress, your cloak with holes and your old boots. ‘’You are Lady Ethel?’’ No.

‘’Yes.’’ You say, smiling to hide your disgust. You are, in ways. In others, no. Not anymore.

You turn your head at the same time, and notice someone coming down the stairs. Someone with your hair color, someone wearing your smile. Someone living a life so different from yours. Your twin sister wears a fine silk gown with embroidered details of gold. She spots you easily, dismissing the ladies following her around as helpless little pups stalking their mother.

She comes over, and both guards nod in respect to Lady Adalia. You don’t. You do smile, and you notice her staring at your clothing and your fake eye. ‘’You changed.’’ That is the first time your twin sister says to you. Her voice almost sounds sincere. She sounds shocked.

You shrug. ‘’Disownment and exile does that to a person. Shall we go discuss things upstairs? I’m sure you can fetch a decent bottle of wine here.’’ You add with a wink.

Adalia groans, but follows.

You soon walk over the same stairs you did years ago, and it all comes back to you.

-ten years ago-

Your hair is put up high, making you look so much older than you actually are. The coal and berry juice itches on your face, as you aren’t used to wearing any of it. And your dress, it is the pretty own with the silver sparkles, as your mother requested by the seamstress. You never felt as a princess as much as you do tonight.

Your parents worked hard to arrange this match with Queen Alicent of House Hightower. Despite your family being some of her most loyal supporters, Queen Alicent was being ‘’difficult’’ about the match for months. But now, tonight, she finally has accepted: Her son, Prince Aemond of House Targaryen, will marry either you or your sister, Adalia. You and her were born during the same moon and have shared everything in life. From plush toys to dresses and from dresses to secret wishes. You both love each other deeply.

You are presented first to court. You have to wait until the page reads your name out loud and when he does, you finally make your debut and enter the castle hall. Many eyes are fixated on you, but only one pair of eyes matters. You see him standing near the throne where his father sits, the boy with silver hair that one day will become your husband. ‘’Lady Ethel of House Mossdam!’’ A few murmurs rise up as you pass the crowds of people, coming closer to the Prince. He waits with his hands folded on his back, taking in your gown with a smile on his lips.

When you are finally in front of the King and Queen, you make a curtsy for them and turn to your future husband. He smiles, greeting you. Your mother who had escorted you, quickly tells the Queen which one of the two twins you are as you and Aemond converse about the candy that is put on the table. ‘’I personally prefer the dragonsticks but I can also recommend the chocolate cake.’’ The prince says, moving a bit with his hands as he talks, likely nervous. You nod and smile. Chocolate cake sounds delicious. You plan to get a piece when your sister is announced. Once again, all heads turn.

But this time it is different. Gasps and adoring coes are heard as your sister parades to the Prince, her head held high as a true Queen. You look at the Prince, trying to get his attention by offering him chocolate cake, but it doesn't matter anymore.

The moment he sees her, his eyes light up in a way they never did when he looked at you. Despite your best efforts, your smile fades and you turn to your parents for direction and help. You gently tap the Prince’s shoulder but he does not only ignore you, he also glares at you to warn you to not do that again. Insulted and confused, you look at the Queen who only smiles back at you the way you once saw so many smile at you. Her smile speaks where her mouth cannot. Disappointment, shame and embarrassment wash over you as Prince Aemond and your sister take off in another direction entirely, gushing happily to one another.

‘’Prince Aemond made his choice.’’ Queen Alicent declares with a smile. ‘’Adelia and him will be married when they both turn sixteen.’’

You came here, hoping that Aemond would like you. You came here, hoping that this would be your home. A strange, hollow feeling eats away at your soul, bringing out an unfamiliar darkness in you that you never felt before as you look at the smiling Adelia. Your feet act before you can think and you quickly dispose of the chocolate cake you had gathered. Fresh tears pierce in your eyes, threatening to cause a scene and to ruin all what you worked so hard for. And now he doesn't even want you.

You hear footsteps approach and see that your father has followed you. You offer him a piece of cake too. He only needs to glare at you so you put the plate down. ‘’I am very disappointed in you.’’ He tells you, his voice soft so only you may hear. ‘’Your sister only needed a few moments with the Prince, and you are making a fool of yourself and he doesn’t even care.’’ He refers to the cake incident. You had hoped that no one would’ve noticed. But as you lift your head and a few tears escape, you notice that all eyes in the crowd are on you, stuck as a fly in honey.

You must defend yourself. You must.

‘’Daddy, I tried.’’ You manage to stutter. He raises his hand, to silence you.

He has a scoff in his voice, but you hear anger more than anything else. ‘’You didn’t try hard enough. Do you know how much effort me and your mother put into this match? You could at least try to not look like a clown.’’ You quickly wipe at your make-up, smearing most of it on the sleeve of your dress.

He walks away with one final word that would forever haunt your memory. ‘’Disappointment.’’

Prince Aemond and Adalia seem to be happy, at least. You try to be happy for your sister, but somehow you are only reminded of your own failures and your own misery whenever you see the two of them together. You can’t take the suffocating growing feeling inside of you, threatening to tear you apart the way a wolf would tear apart a lamb. Your legs take off, running to the exit of the ballroom when you think no one looks.

When you try to enter the cool and calming gardens of the castle, you bump into a tall silver-haired person that smells unpleasantly. You don’t need to see his face to know it is the Prince’s older brother, Prince Aegon.

Aegon smirks at your teary face, your trembling hands and your dirty dress enjoying every miserable little minute. ‘’You’re one of the little brats who my brother would marry.’’ He observes, quickly blocking your way to the gardens.

You sniffle, nodding to confirm, as you know well enough it is rude to not answer a prince.

‘’I-I am. Please let me through.’’

He does not comply. ‘’Shouldn’t you be talking with my brother?’’ He asks. You huff, anger, getting the better of you.

Why does he care? ‘’No. He picked my sister.’’ You say, pointing to the two children who are now enjoying a chocolate cake.

The other prince huffs, annoyed quickly. ‘’You give up so easily? Do you know what’s at stake here?’’

He leans in a little closer, a mischievous spark growing in his eyes. ‘’I’ll let you into a little secret. If you want to hold Aemond’s attention, mention dragons. He never had one, he would do anything for one.’’ Dragons. You know of dragons.

House Targaryen is one of the few surviving houses of old Valyria, where dragons once roamed the big skies. Before the doom. ‘’Anything?’’ You reply, a plan forming in your head.

–

That night, when everyone is asleep, you sneak out of your rooms at the palace. You pass Ada’s bed on the way out, and you can’t help but feel horrible for how you are going to steal her husband and her future away from her. You even tear up, and can barely muffle your cries as you sneak past her.

On your own, you dress and prepare yourself. Your mission is simple: You will find a dragon, convince it to bring it with you, and offer it as a gift of betrothal to the Prince. He would not even dare to refuse it. It sounds like an amazing plan, and you are pretty proud of yourself for thinking it up.

There are just a few irons to work out:

You don’t know where dragons are, you don’t know how to bring a dragon home, and you don’t know how to speak with a dragon. But you assume that if you learn one, you learn the other two. It has to be.

You manage to sneak out of the castle easily: No one cares where you go, who you are, or what you come to do. You are a shadow in the light of the Red Keep. And whoever pays attention to shadows? You hear your own footsteps and take comfort into this.

You read in your history books about the Dragon pit, located in King’s Landing. That is where the dragons of the Targaryens are where their riders can’t attend them, and that is where you will go.

It is dark and cold in the city as you walk through it, but no one seems to pay you any mind. That is until you are in front of the huge colossal housing where the dragons stay. You never saw anything like it. It’s structure reminds you a lot of the Red Keep. A memory of a time long ago, long forgotten by most. Two guards outside warn you of trespassers and what will be done to them.

Both guards seem bored, yet dangerous. You had hoped there would be no security at all, but that might have been wishful thinking. Instead of backing down and rolling over, you think of a plan on how to get inside.

Luckily for you, a huge cart is approaching, with dead animal meat on top of it. Huge slabs of meat, likely meant for the dragons. You make yourself as small as possible. The driver is asked to stop and when the two guards are busy inspecting the meat on intruders, you sneak past them both, into the famous Dragon Pit.

There you avoid most torches, and go from pen to pen. First there is a big goldenlike dragon. It warns you when you approach by flapping it’s wings violently, hissing and warning you. You bet it would impress the prince, but you aren’t stupid enough to even risk that. So, you go onto another pit.

Most dragons you pass do not please you. Most are too big, too dangerous or too scary. You had almost given up your quest entirely when you stumbled upon a small, red with black dragon sitting in a lone pen, straw and food near him. He is as big as four apples, and arguably the smallest dragon you ever saw. It looks weak, tiny, vulnerable. And perfect as a gift for Prince Aemond.

You open the pen, easily and slip inside of the pen, as the dragon cocks its head at you. You withhold a giggle of excitement and glee as you realize that everyone will soon be either impressed or happy with you.

You approach the dragon, hands out to grab it. The dragon takes a few steps back, watching you very closely but does not fight or breathe fire at you. ‘’Please, dragon. Work with me! Prince Aemond wants a dragon, and I want Prince Aemond to like me.’’ You whisper to the creature that awkwardly stares back at you with its big hollow eyes.

You lean in closer to the hatchling, coming as close that you can smell its poop nearby it and the meat it devoured recently. You watch it twitch it head at you and both your hands come closer to his body, grabbing hold of it firmly.

It seems so tiny. So helpless.

And so, so threatened by your presence.

The dragon hisses, before slamming a claw down your face, tearing open your flesh, blood bursting from the wound as you open your mouth. You know you are supposed to be silent. You know this is forbidden. You know you can’t be heard.

But that pain…

The pain of a dragon’s claw, it is the worst pain you ever have been subjected to.

You cry out in agony, pain slashes through you as the claw of the dragon pierces your flesh, cutting deep and unforgiven. Your screams of pain echo through the dragon pit as you back away from the baby hatchling, covering the right side of your face.

When you remove your hands, they are drenched in your own blood. Your face feels as if it was ripped from your very own skin. You pant, heavily, as the dragon follows you around its pen. You finally manage to get back on your feet, your small legs trembling as you make it out of the pen at long last.

Outside of the pen, with the dragon safely behind bars, you fall back to your knees, your pain becoming too much too quickly. Blood is flowing down your face, your dress, your shoes. It drips on the floor and for your own sanity, it feels like it slips between the tiles itself, going into the earth below.

You can only wail and cry in pain as someone approaches, carrying a torch. It appears to be a old man, wearing a classic scribe robe you would see on septons. But this man is no septon. He is a guard to the dragons. He sees your bloodied face, your trembling legs and your shaking body and the dragon who keeps hissing at you from behind bars.

It is all he needs to leave. You assume he is leaving you to die. Your breath quickens, as panic takes hold of you. But you soon hear three voices, coming closer as you crawl in the direction of the door.

It is the dragon guard. And he brought the two outdoor guards. The dragon guard lifts his torch, shining a light upon your face. You blink back against the sudden warmth and light. The dragon guard mumbles something, and the other two guards look at you speechless as they take in your face.

“It's a girl!” One of them shouts. “Child, what were you doing here?’ He tries to get your attention. You don’t respond.

You can only look at the crying girl looking back at you in the reflection of his blade, and you see that something ripped her face in half. It is you. It is your face. You cower, making yourself as small as possible as your face keeps stinging, reminding you of your injuries. Of a very bleak looking future without any Prince by your side. Without any approval of your parents.

Without any husband at all.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

The dragonguards brought you to the King. It is embarrassing, seeing the entire castle woken up and everyone in their nightclothes for something you did. The King did you give the privilege and kindness to first receive excessive stitching in your face. You were offered milk of the poppy, but your mother denied it. ‘’Let her suffer the consequences of her actions.’’ She said. And so, your skin was pressed back together and stitched with a needle and thread in a slow, torturous manner. The Maester had never seen anything like it, and you could tell most women were horrified to see you like this, scarred and bloody.

All but Rhaenyra Targaryen.

The Princess of Dragonstone seems as furious as her little boy, the owner of the dragon you tried to steal. She resembles her ancestor, Queen Visenya.

You can only cry, no words to defend yourself or your actions come to mind. Your parents are near, yet they stand in the back of the room, disappointment and anger chizeld into their eyes forever. Adalia is near the King and Queen, close to Prince Aemond.

“What were you doing there?’’ King Viserys has a powerful voice that booms through the room as you are finally done with your stitches. What were you doing there? How could you be so stupid?

“Can we discuss this in private?” You ask, your voice soft. You don’t want Aemond to find out. Or your parents for that matter. Anyone but the King.

The king continues his sharp questions, spitting them out as fire. “Why were you trying to steal Prince’s Joffrey's dragon?” You don’t know. You really don’t. Maybe you wanted everyone to stop judging you. To stop pressuring you. To finally be in control for once. And you ruined it all.

“It was all my fault. I didn't know a dragon would be so aggressive.’’ You say, and the King’s harsh features soften, as he takes in your new fresh scars and trembling hands. You can see he feels pity for you.

A voice as sharp as glass cuts through the silence, surprising both his foes and friends. “You know nothing of dragons then.” Prince Aemond sneers. It's somehow even more painful when he scolds you. Unknowingly to him, you wanted to please him. You wanted him to like you. To pick you as his wife.

And now he is lecturing you as if you are a little stupid girl. You look in the reflection of a sword of the King’s guard from Dorne, seeing your scarred poorly stitched and terribly mangled face. You are just that. A stupid, little girl.

Aemond continues, taking steps in your direction.

“You came into its pen, you threatened it and tried to take it away. Of course it would lash out.” You don’t know anything about dragons. You don’t know much about anything.

You would love your parents near you. To defend you and to hold your hand. But they remain in the back, present but silent. And holding your hands? They won't even look at you.

For all they are concerned: You are a disgrace, a failure, a disappointment.

You expect to be executed on the spot for your treason. And truth be told? You’d welcome it. Anything to end the pain of your face, of the humiliation and the disappointment your parents feel for you.

So when Prince Daemon takes out Dark Sister, his famous sword, you just stand there and allow him to approach you.

Queen Alicent is quick to interfere.

“The girl has been scared. Forever. Lower your blade, Daemon. Even you won’t harm a disabled child.’’ You are shocked at her kindness. Why does she even care, you wonder? She didn’t like you during the ball.

But someone else disagrees firmly with the Queen. It is the Princess. ‘’My sons will have their answer. We must know why she stole the dragon. If not willingly we can always sharply question her.” You know what that means. Torture.

So you start talking, avoiding all eyes, your eyes aimed at your bloodied slippers. “I heard Aemond liked dragons. I wanted to give him one.” You confess, softly. Queen Alicent’s eyes shimmer with tears as she turns to look at her son, the prince who has many eyes on him now.

His face betrays that he is enraged. “You can't gift dragons!” He shouts, instead of taking you for your sacrifice, for your thoughtful gift, for the gesture, for the blood you lost because of him.

“I know that now.’’ You mutter, a tear falling rolling down your scarred cheeks.

Princess Rhaenyra approaches now too, angry and terrifying as a thunderstorm or maybe a big mother dragon. “Why would you give him a dragon? Why did you think my son's dragon was a good gift?” She makes it sound like this was some deliberate attack on her son. You would never. You don’t care for her sons.

You decide to tell the truth, hoping she will believe you. “Because the others seemed too big. This one seemed harmless.” You feel all eyes on you as you fumble with your hands.

“And because…Aemond had to pick a wife…and…” Briefly, your air is cut off as you sob, your emotions becoming too much. “I wanted it to be me.” Followed by a final plea. ‘’I’m sorry!’’ You shout.

If Rhaenyra cared, she has become quite good at not showing it. “What will we do with her, father? She tried to steal my son's dragon.” This is madness. She thinks that this was some plot to hurt her, to hurt her sons, her claim to the Throne. That was not what this was. This was a desperate act.

Queen Alicent scoffs in disbelief at her words, as if she can’t believe what the Princess is saying. “For Aemond. To please him. I fully believe there was no ill will in Ethel's heart.” She adds. “She only did what she thought was right.”

Rhaenyra glances at Alicent, but her glares are for you and you alone. She turns her silver braided head in the direction of your silent parents. ‘’What do the parents think?’’ You gulp.

Your mother steps forward first. ‘’In all truth, we are disappointed and grieved by Ethel’s stupidity. We fully believe she is not capable of marrying any noble.’’ Your mother says. ‘’We certainly cannot approve of a marriage between her and House Targaryen anymore. We all ask that we may leave with Adelia and our heads on our shoulders. You may do with Ethel as you wish.’’ Your head fills with horrible images of you losing your head, or rotting away in a prison cell.

You don’t feel well. You feel as if you can pass out any moment now. ‘’’Mother,’’ you manage to squeak. ‘’You can’t mean that.’’ Yet your mother turns away, ignoring you as if you don’t exist. It is the cruelest thing she has ever done to you.

‘’Will you disown Ethel?’’ Alicent asks, and at that point, you start crying to a hysterical angle. You can’t handle being alone. You can’t be alone. Your twin sister is perfectly silent by Aemond’s side, a faint smile on her lips.

Your mother glances one time at your face. ‘’I will do as the King wants.’’ She says.

The King glares. Not at you, however. At your parents. At your mother, your father, even at your sister. To you, he only speaks. “We will spare you. But we can't allow a marriage between you and Prince Aemond, not any other Targaryen.” You had figured that one out already.

Aegon snorts, reminding everyone that that weasel is present. “As if he even wanted her anymore.”

King Viserys ignores his son, standing up from the Iron throne. ‘’We must all rest now. The hour has grown late and I’m sure Ethel wants to forget this has even happened.’’

The Princess chases her father, her black and red skirts lifted so she may go faster.

‘’Father-’’ She smiles but this time her father does not fall for it.

‘’The matter, has been settled, Rhaenyra.’’

You are returned to your rooms after. You don’t even dare to glance at the Princess, convinced you made a powerful enemy for life.

—

You are cooling your face with a towel, still somehow crying, minutes later. “Where is Ada?” You ask as your parents enter. They had an argument. You heard both of them scream and things break.

The towel brings small comfort but the pain is unbearable. “Ada has been removed from her Chambers. She is living with the royal family. And that is for the best. You could ruin it all again. Forever this time.” Your mother warns you. You roll your eyes.

She gasps at your audacity, before she sits down, grabbing you by your freshly stitched face. You yelp in pain. “We are already a minor house. Our coffins are nearing their bottom. And to top it all you now have a hideous scar that makes you unattractive and reminds every man how stupid you truly are.” She hisses, close to strangling you.

‘’Resa, let her go.’’ Your father begs your mother. ‘’The king warned us if anything happened to her, he would know.’’ Why does the King even care?

Your mother stops her actions, as if only now realizing what she did in a wave of anger. She turns her back to you, her first born child. ‘’You disgust me.’’ She whispers before she leaves.

Ada and you never became close again after the incident. She blamed you for trying to ruin her chance at becoming a princess and you blamed her for ignoring you and shutting you out when your entire world was on fire.

—-------------

present

You watch the wine splash around in your cup. ‘’What do you want?’’ You ask your twin sister. Your sister raises her chin, trying to intimidate you. She has no idea what you've been through, however but you are not impressed.

‘’I want you to attend my wedding to prince Aemond.’’ Ah, yes. Aemond. The man you lost your eye for. The man who you became a scarred mess for. The man who changed your life.

You can’t and don’t want anything to do with him anymore. ‘’I heard men lie better than that.’’ You say. ‘’Whatever you want, it’s not my support when that Valyrian scum fucks you.’’ You become distant and eye her room for anything unusual. You notice a vanity with an excessive bouquet of flowers, likely a gift from her husband to be. You notice your eyes glide to the hair bracelet around your wrist, where black, dornish locks hang. You try to hide your smirk, but you fail.

‘’I am serious. I want your support.’’ She says, using her big puppy eyes. ‘’Mother and father died so suddenly.’’ There is an accusation there. You had nothing to do with it. In a way. Sort of. Kind of. Ok, it was your fault, but you didn’t use the daggers. That was someone else.

You know it is risky for you to stay at the castle. But you want to see how her marriage with Aemond is treating her. You tell yourself that lie, feeding it your brain, repeating it until it becomes the truth. You feel your tattoo ache on your back, the one you had Aros put there years ago. You want revenge, in truth. But you can’t let Ada know that. Sweet, doe-eyed Ada would never let anything happen to her Aemond, her precious Prince.

You try to think back of the last time you felt sadness. ‘’It was a great tragedy. I regret missing their funeral, but as you know, I was not allowed back in the estate.’’ You need to cough. Your sister however thinks you have become emotional and rubs your back.

She takes a deep breath as if what she says costs her great energy. ‘’I regret the way we parted, Ethel.’’ Not Ethel.

‘’So do I.’’ You lie smoothly. You do, but it is easier to convince yourself that this is just another harmless lie. You won’t allow yourself to see it as a truth.

Adalia does not notice and pulls you in a hug. You notice her eyes close, but yours are wide open. ‘’You may take a bath.’’ She says after the hug has ended. ‘’You …smell.’’ She adds, softly. You chuckle, scoffing a bit but agreeing. You smell.

She stops in her tracks. ‘’After that, we must talk. We have much to discuss. I want my sister to be near me when I become a Princess.’’ You are confused. Didn't you just talk? You were right. She wants more from you. Much more.

—

You are even allowed to use her bathroom when your sister is busy arranging a room for you. You fill the bath to the brim and toss in three different bars of soap, and wait for the bubbles to appear. You drop out of your dress, putting your golden dagger in your boots. You also raid your sister’s closet, searching for pretty fabrics and bottles of wine. You find a delicious Dornish well-aged bottle, likely a gift from one lord or the other. You pop the bottle open and take a big swing, lying down in the warm bath, drinking freely from the bottle as the soap bars continue to create bubbles. You could get used to this.

The door is pushed open after a few minutes. Your eyes shoot open and you reach for your boot, for your dagger to see who is approaching. Once you see who it is, you are shocked. You did hear rumors he lost his eye. A blessing, you called it. You remember treating the whole bar on a drink when you heard it the first time. Aros was furious you spent so much gold, but he did forgive you, and once he heard the news too, he bought everyone a second round.

Prince Aemond has interrupted your drinking and bath moment, staring at your bare naked chest as if he never saw a pair of tits before. You lower your hands, back in the warm water and pick the bottle back up and take another sip of the bottle, daring him to speak up.

He doesn't. He seems shocked yet fascinated by what he found in his fiancee’s bathtub. You have had many men look at you that way before. You know what is on his mind.

You don't even attempt to cover yourself. “O. You're not…” He begins, soft and gentle with his way of speaking to you. You recall how he yelled at you, how he screamed at you. So you don’t even blink.

You raise your eyebrows, picking up the soap and continuing where you left off before he interrupted. “Clearly. Did you hear about this wonderful invention?” You ask, when cleaning your arms. Fascinated, he watches, shaking his head, his cheeks growing warmer and warmer.

“No.” He breathes, as you lower the soapbar underwater. You grab it, throwing it at his head. It hits him, perfectly, as he quickly backs away.

You scowl, lecturing him angrily. “It's called knocking. People usually do that before storming in.’’ You dryly respond.

Prince Aemond gawks, looking at you and the door, you and the door, the door and you and finally decides it's for the best to leave. “I-, yes.” He says. ‘’It’s just…I haven’t seen you in years and…You’ve grown.’’ Clearly.

As much as you enjoy him flustered over your body, you do have more things to do. “Where is your brother?’’ You ask. ‘’I have things to discuss.’’ You smile, and you watch Aemond’s gleeness die in a mere moment, jealousy breaking out of him.

‘’My brother?” He asks, dumbfounded. Aros needs a new ship. Aegon has money. Aros is not stupid, Aegon is, there is the end of the story.

You smile, sweetly, tilting your head. ‘’Are you deaf too?’’

He approaches, anger getting the better of him. You can’t even move but if you could, you wouldn’t have done that either. You just smirk, enjoying his little worked up face and angry pouty lips.

‘’I’m your Prince.’’ He reminds you, firmly. ‘’You will grant me your respect.’’ You have one prince. It is not Aemond.

You laugh, empty and shallow. ‘’No you’re not. You made that choice years ago. You choose wrong, little princeling.’’ You continue, taking another sip from the bottle. ‘’I made my own happiness. I don’t know what my sister wants from me yet, but I am not interested in feeding that brat if she was dying of hunger in a desert.’’

‘’Our interests align, then.’’ He leans on the tub with his hands, coming closer to your naked body. His voice becomes a soft, breakable plea. ‘’I want my freedom back.’’ You laugh, enjoying his misery. ‘’I should’ve chosen you. I didn’t know how she was.’’ He adds. There it is. Words you always dreamt of hearing.

Yet this marriage is old as stone, and it is likely that Prince Aemond has tried to talk his mother out of it before. ‘’The marriage is an old agreement. How do you plan to break it, Prince Aemond?’’

‘’I was hoping you’d know that.’’ He says. ‘’I heard you are quite the clever girl.’’ You roll your eyes. Did he really think that would work? No wonder he is in a arranged marriage. This man couldn't seduce a wife if his life depended on it.

‘’Hah! Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me. I am not a weak little doe eyed girl.’’ You tell him.

He doesn’t respond, looking at your wrist. ‘’Whose hair are you wearing around your wrist?’’ Aros. Yet you won't tell him. It is bad that he notices. The hair is a tradition among sea folks, people who travel a lot and yes; pirates. You cut off a lock of your own hair, so your loved one may tie it around their wrist, keeping you near them in a way.

‘’Please answer me, Adder.’’ For the first time during your time in the Red Keep, your head twists, shock written across your face as you look at Aemond’s smirking pink lips. He adressed you by your nickname. He knows. But how much?

Prince Aemond smirks. You glare, putting the bottle aside, as this has just become a serious conversation. One of life and death. You reach for your boots, showing him your dagger. He chuckles, delighted. ‘’Oh, that’s a adorable little blade. Did your boyfriend give you that?’’ He asks, mockingly.

It is true. You are not Ethel. You have become the first mate and paramour of Aros Blackwaters, the fearless Dornish pirate that captured your heart. You have stolen from royal and merchant ships belonging to many nations and kingdoms, including the Seven Kingdoms.

You sigh. ‘’I am not his girlfriend. I am his paramour.’’

‘’So, his slut.’’ He remarks, unimpressed.

You roll your eyes. He’s such a simpleminded man. ‘’What do you want with Aros?’’ Although, it is pretty obvious. He is a pirate. Aros regularly attacks Westerosi ships.

Aemond pretends to think. ‘’I am certain he can be of use on a rainy day.’’ He chuckles. You are silent.

‘’Aros never told you, did he?’’

You only look at him. Aemond leans in closer.

‘’He’s not just any Dornish man. He’s the bastard of Qoren Nymeros Martell. His first born bastard at that.’’ He pats your wet hand, as if rewarding you. ‘’Congratulations, your pirate boyfriend is the runaway prince of Dorne.’’ He reveals as if this isn’t already known to you at all.

You glare at the ceiling, smacking his hand away from your own. ‘’Touch me again and become known as Aemond one-hand as well.’’ You warn him. ‘’Aros never liked his family or his birthright. I’m telling him of you and your plans.’’ It is true. He would never help Aemond.

He smirks, a bit darker as he takes in your body.

‘’Do that. If I put you in a nice, dark cell, your boyfriend will come here and I’ll finally be able to jail him for his crimes, or worse, depending on my mood.’’ You know he would. You know he could. Aros would save you. He would risk his life for you. He is just as stupid as Aemond is.

You glare. Aemond leans closer, his lips coming closer to your ear so he can whisper. ‘’Now, I don’t want to hurt you. But for the sake of my family, for duty, for the crown, for the greater good? I will run you through with my sword and make that little scar of yours look like a adorable little accident.’’ You scoff.

‘’Looks like the gods gave you your own little adorable scar.’’ You remark, making him much more upset than before. He growls, clutching the bathtub to avoid hurting you personally. ‘’Although, I’m the lucky one. I at least have my wits so I can make my own happiness. But you, a little boy who always seeks validation from others? I pity you.’’ you whisper, brushing your fingers over his cheeks. He does not pull away. ‘’I despise you.’’ You add.

He only smirks. ‘’Soon I don't need validation. I will have it all. And more. You can either play along with my games and my plans, serve me and my brother well-’’ You frown, turning your head.

‘’Serve?’’ He makes it sound so sexual.

Aemond slightly blushes. ‘’Well, do our dirty work. I promise you, we won’t need help in the bedroom.’’ You see another plan forming in your head, one where you and Aron take the throne from the two princes, and sit it.

You nod, smiling. ‘’No, you do have both your hands.’’

He glares. He rolls his eyes, eying the heavens as if to ask the gods why he is forced to work with you. ‘’Or I will reveal you for the Pirate that you are, for the war criminal you are, and will see you hanged at dawn.’’ How romantic.

‘’I have never received a more moving proposal-’’ Your mockery is interrupted by your own thoughts. ‘’What do we do about my sister?’’ You ask.

Aemond smiles, mischievously. ‘’I might take her flying later, you of all people should know just how dangerous dragons can truly be.’’

A/N

Who's gonna listen when you run out of lies? Who's gonna hear you, when your words seem worthless? Who's gonna save you when you're out of time? And who's gonna want you, when you're on your knees, begging

"Oh, please take me at my word, I'm desperate I swear, I never meant to hurt no one, no Oh, please stay for what it's worth, I'm desperate" You're on your own

So don't you call my name I will take you down Should've known that you've been dancing with a wolf So don't you call my name I will take you down I'm not your friend, you burned a bridge I chew you up and spit you out

Really captures this fic really well.

I hope yall liked this little one shot!

:) i was inspired by @valeskafics latest aemond/aegon/witch reader thingy and wanted to make something!:) Hope yall liked it and im sorry for leaving for so long. mental health is kicking my butt.

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marleyelona · 20 days

Text

RIDE OR DIE (THE PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. All rights go to Kurt Sutter, FX and any others that made this amazing show possible. I do, however, own my character, Letitia Morrow, and any other OCs I might add in the future, along with their backstories and their storylines within the show.

GRAPHICS: I MAKE the gifs that are used throughout this book. On occasion I will use gifs I find on google, which I will clarify. Any gifs I haven't made, all rights of those should go to the rightful creators. I also DO the aesthetics, covers, tags and trailers that are made. Please do not steal them. HOWEVER most of the images you see in this book are made by A.I imaging unless stated otherwise.

WARNING (Mature Audience Only)⚠️: violence, murder, gore, coarse language, mental health issues, domestic violence, drug and alcohol use, and detailed sex scenes will appear in this book. If any of these are a trigger for you, please take caution if you decide to continue.

[ RIDE OR DIE! ]

Prologue

A Trunk Full of Problems

[Pre-Season One]

" There are two sides to my daughter; the angelic side of her mother and the devious side of me. And you never know which side you're gonna get from one moment to the next. She can switch just like that. "

~ CLAY MORROW to JUICE ORTIZ

☆《》¤

CAST

Emmy Rossum as Letitia Morrow

Penn Badgley as Lewis Mckenna

☆《》¤

TRIGGER WARNING⚠️: Mentions of domestic abuse, a shooting, minor gore and some coarse language.

☆《》¤

LETTY'S CAR

☆《》¤

LETTY'S OUTFIT

☆《》¤

LETTY'S TATTOOS

☆《》¤

A TWENTY ONE YEAR OLD LETITIA MORROW sped down the highway so fast if she took a wide corner her car would most likely turn over. Apart of her was dreading seeing the 'Welcome to Charming' sign. Letty or Lett, as she was called by many of the small town's residences, speed increased, while tears streamed down her beaten and bruised face. A dark purplish bruise hung under her left eye, her bright cherry lips had grown two sizes too big, as blood oozed out of the corner of her mouth.

Pressing her foot down on the gas, made her engine let out a loud roar, as a sob escaped her lips when she aggressively rubbed her blood stained hands onto her ripped jeans. Her tears continued to flow like a tap, as the memories of the night prior flashed through her mind like an old movie projector.

A blood curdling scream echoed in her ears, as she gasped, her eyes shot wide open at the sight of a car inches away from colliding with her front bumper, their bright head lights shinning into her eyes, almost blinding the brunette.

Her shaky hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, as she turned it, managing to dodge the oncoming car without damaging her beautiful mustang - Thank God or her dad would have killed her.

The car was in fact her baby. She received him on her sixteenth birthday from her father, who just so happened to be the President of Samcro, Clay Morrow.

Her father and her had a complicated relationship, childhood worth of resentment hung heavy for Letty, and she was just as stubborn as him, so any chance she got, she liked to remind him how much he wasn't there for her growing up. Sometimes they were too similar, because of this, they constantly butted heads. But at the end of the day they loved each other deeply and were very protective over one another - they would quite literally kill for each other.

Admittedly, it had been a few years since Letty had been back to Charming, she had moved pretty quickly after she graduated from high school, not wanting to end up some Sons' old lady like Gemma. God, she loved that woman like a mother, but she did not want to turn out like her.

Gemma and Letty had a close relationship. Letty's mother died in 1987 during an emergency c-section. And when her father married Gemma, she became mum to her, as she had helped raise her pretty much since birth, making her the woman she is today.

Gemma was the one person Letty was worried to see, as she headed towards the club house. After she left, they had talked on the phone a few times here and there, but it wasn't the same. Gemma didn't fully support her leaving town, so she wasn't excited about the lecture she would mostly definitely receive when they came face to face again after three years.

Her eyes travelled to the back seat of her car at the many bags she stuffed inside, knowing she couldn't return to her house in Los Angeles, not after what happened the night prior with her boyfriend of three years, who she met during her freshman year of college, where she went onto complete a diploma in nursing.

That was probably the hardest thing about her decision to race back home to Charming, having to quit a job she loved with people she loved. But she was sure she'd be able to pick up a nursing job at the hospital easy, as they always seem to be short staffed.

As she passed the out dated 'Welcome to Charming' sign, which hadn't been updated since she was born, maybe even longer, a cold chill ran down her spine. She wonder what the small town of Charming would have in stall for this next chapter of her life. Because one thing was for sure, Charming was never boring, there was always something happening, whether it was good or bad that was up for interpretation.

Sure, she was happy to see her old friends and family. There was Jax and Opie, who were like her older brothers growing up. Before she had left she got pretty close with Opie's wife Donna, while Opie was inside. Donna actually helped Letty look for colleges far away from Charming and Samcro, thinking if she couldn't get out of the crippling town herself and away from the toxicity of the club, she'd want someone to, who else more deserving than the sweetheart that was Letty Morrow.

She'd love to see all the boys again. Chibs, Bobby, Tig and Piney were all in the waiting room of the maternity ward when Letita Loraine Morrow was brought into this world. They all actually got kicked out for smoking a couple fat cigars. A story that was continuously told throughout her life, the boys thought it was pretty funny, mainly trying to shine some light on the day they lost a good woman, Loraine Morrow, the most caring woman you'd ever meet, a trait her daughter inherited.

Letty was close with them all, but Chibs was like a second father to her, so even when her dad wasn't around much when she was a kid, Chibs was there to fill that emptiness in her heart.

Piney was someone she loved to call her crazy grandpa, she had actually went to calling him Pops or Poppy at a young age.

And Bobby and Tig were like her eccentrically crazy uncles that would willingly get her plastered, partying right into the night together - she loved them to death.

As Letty finally pulled into Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair Shop, that was used as a front for their motorcycle club's dealings, she gave herself a small pep talk inside her head, 'It's going to be okay. Sure, you haven't seen most of these people in years, but you got this. It'll be fine'. In fact, she was so deep in her own thoughts and still pretty hysterical, that she didn't realise how far she actually drove into the large compound and before she knew it...BANG!

☆《》¤

A loud CRASH! Followed by a continuous horn caught the Sons' attention from inside the Chapel. Like any other day, the boys sat around the table discussing current business, before they were oh-so-rudely interrupted.

Instantly, they were all on their feet, their senses on high alert, because when you were apart of a motorcycle club that did questionable dealings, you should always expect the worst. Each member had a hand clamped around their gun that sat on their hips; ready to draw it if need be.

Clay Morrow held up a hand, signalling from them all to stay put. Placing a finger to his lips, he motioned with his head for them to quietly follow him outside.

Making it outside and around the back of the large compound, they all noticed the familiar red mustang, which had clearly crashed into the garage sliding door.

"Jesus Christ!" Clay hissed under his breath, running hand through his white-blonde hair, as he released his grip from his glock. Jax Teller, Chibs Telford, Bobby Munson, Piney Winston, Tig Trager and Opie Winston, followed suit, relaxing slightly. Although, both Juice Ortiz and Half-Sack Epps were still clearly on high alert - what the hell was going on?

Concern and worry had washed over the older members' faces, Clay being the first one to rush over to the car. But all of them sighed in relief when the driver's side door opened and a girl with long, brown, curly hair stepped out of the vehicle. Juice and Half-sack had held back; having no idea what was happening.

"Daddy!" Letty immediately broke down at the sight of her father, instantly running into his arms and soaking his chest with tears, as she sobbed. And as Juice watched the scene unfold, he felt a small pang in his heart for the poor girl.

Clay pulled back, holding the woman at arms length, as he cupped her beautiful face. And once Juice finally got a good look at her features, his jaw almost hit the floor. She was hot. No, not hot...Gorgeous. He honestly thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his whole life. And he had been with his fair share of beautiful women, but not one of them held a candle to Letty Morrow.

"Honey, what happened--?" Clay started to ask, before his face fell, noticing the state she was in and the bruises that scattered her entire body, not just her face. "Did he beat you again?" Clay's whole face turned murderous, as he tightly gripped his daughter's shoulders, which made her wince in pain.

All the girl managed was a nod of her head, which only angered Clay more.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him!" the man clenched his fists, as he started to storm towards his bike, but Letty was quick to grab his arm.

"No! You're not going anywhere," she declared, sending her father a stern look.

Yanking his arm back, he glared at his only daughter, "Don't tell me what I'm gonna fucking do. He put his hands on you, baby!"

"I understand that," she said, matching his tone. If the situation wasn't so serious the boys would of had a laugh at how quickly father and daughter had started arguing. It was always said, 'You can't have Clay and Letty in the same room for too long or a storm would brew'.

Clay went to open his mouth to argue once again, but Letty cut him off and continued with what she was saying, "That's why I took care of it," she said in a tone of voice that gave nothing away, her face even remained solemn, so you couldn't even read her facial expressions to guess what she meant by that statement.

Clay furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "What does that even mean?" he slightly snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"I came here because I need your help," she stated, making her way over to her car, Clay and the boys followed after her as she started to unlock her boot. Pulling the door open, the boys leaned over to look inside and their eyes widened at the sight of a man all tied up with a gun shot wound on his lower region, his blood staining the lining of the boot.

"You stupid fucking bitch!" Lewis Mckenna hissed, glaring bloody murder at his girlfriend of three years, as he thrusted around, trying to get free from the tight binds. "You actually fucking shot me! Oh, my God, you shot me in the dick!" he cried, looking down at his wounded genitals that oozed with blood.

While amusement was clear on the older members' faces, Juice and Half-Sack were watching on, completely confused, but also very intrigued, watching this all play out like it was a brand new movie at the cinemas. All they were missing was popcorn.

"And I should of done worse, you fucking cock sucker!" she sneered, shooting daggers with her eyes at her latest ex-boyfriend.

A growl sounded from the back of Lewis' throat, as his glared up at her hatefully, "I'm going to fucking kill, you crazy bitch--!"

The guy's threat was cut short by an elbow to the face, knocking him out cold, "That's enough out of," Jax smirked, owner of said elbow, earning him a chuckle from the girl that was basically his sister, they gave each other enough wedgies growing up to justify that.

"As you can see..." she said to her father, putting on her best, 'I'm sweet and innocent' look "...I fucked up."

"Yeah, you should of went for the head," Clay hissed, looking at the man in complete disgust, like he was the piece of gum under his shoe.

"I thought it showed creativity," Letty pouted like a five year old who was just refused ice cream for dinner, crossing her arms over her chest. "So sue me," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"I thought it was pretty creative, darlin'," Tig stated with that somewhat sinister smirk of his. "Take away a man's equipment -Worse and most painful punishment there is."

"Thanks, Tigga," she said, sending the man a kind smile. Her nickname for Tig came from when she was a toddler and just learning to say a few words here and there, so when Tig tried to teach her his name or his nickname, she kept just getting excited repeatedly yelling her favourite cartoon character's name and the nickname just stuck ever since.

Clay shot his Sergeant in Arms a glare, "Don't encourage her," he scolded.

Tig raised his hands in mock-surrender, "Hey! She's your daughter."

Clay's glare sharpened at his words, making him take a step back, his hands still raised, "That's all I'm saying."

"Letty?!" the voice of Gemma Teller-Morrow sounded from behind the girl. The woman had stepped out of the office to investigate what the commotion was all about, she didn't recognise the woman at first, squinting her eyes, as she blocked out the sun's UV rays with her hand. And that's when she saw it, the face she hadn't seen in nearly three whole years. One she'd recognise from a mile away.

Letty was quick to whip her head around and a smile immediately graced her face as she spotted Gemma striding over to her in a quick pace.

"Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in," chuckled Gemma, as she reached the girl, looking at her fondly.

"Gemma," Letty beamed, bringing the woman into a hug.

"Gemma?" the woman frowned in confusion as they parted. "What happened to Mum?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side, as she raised an eyebrow, staring the girl down. "Been gone too long, you forgot who raised your skinny ass," she teased, cupping the girl's chin as she gave her face a playful shake. "Huh?"

Letty chuckled, shaking her head amusingly, "Never."

Gemma smiled, wrapping her arm around her step-daughter's shoulders, before leading her back over to her car and examined the contents of her boot, a hum leaving her lips, "This is the boyfriend I'm guessing?"

"Ex-boyfriend," Letty corrected.

"Well, they can't say you don't know how to make an entrance."

"Well, you know..." she said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I gotta keep the old man on his toes," she said, flashing her father a cheeky smirk, as she sent him a wink, earning a playful glare in response.

Gemma let out a loud chuckle, snapping her head back in amusement, "Well, what do you say, why don't we leave the boys to clean up this mess you created, and you and I grab a cuppa and catch up?" she asked, as she started to guide the girl back over to her father's office. "It's been so long. I've missed you around here, baby!" Gemma beamed happily, as she rubbed her shoulders - glad her daughter was back.

"Yeah, I've missed you guys, too," Letty said, and it was true, she did. She never wanted to leave the people. She wanted to leave the club and small town life behind.

Meanwhile, Juice was in a hypnotic state, his eyes watching Letty closely as she walked away, he was practically drooling over her, "She's beautiful, isn't she?" he whispered to Half-Sack in a monotone voice. Juice didn't think about who was around at that moment, as the words slipped from his lips.

"Yeah," Half-Sack rapidly nodded his head in agreement, while he was actually drooling over her and had to readjust the spring in his jeans. "Hard to think she came from Clay," he chuckled.

"Hey!" Clay whacked both the zombie like boys on the back of the head.

"Ow!" they both hissed simultaneously, rubbing the back of their heads.

"Both of your ugly mugs better not be thinking what I think your thinking about," he warned, pointing a stern finger in their faces.

"Hell no, sir" Half-Sack immediately uttered, his eyes awkwardly finding his feet when he looked away from the girl, not knowing where else to look in the mean time.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Clay shot back with narrowed eyes.

"Damn," Juice whistled, his eyes still locked on the girl, who was now inside, sipping a coffee as she talked with Gemma, still visible through the window, as he remained in his hypnotic state.

"Oh, Juicy Boy," Tig chuckled amusingly, coming over to wrap his arm over the boy's shoulders, giving him a light pat. "She's gonna chew you up and spit you out."

"Ain't that the truth," Opie agreed, shaking his head in amusement - Juice could not handle a girl like Letty Morrow, not in the slightest. Stronger men have tried and let's just say, it didn't end well for them.

Clay joyfully chuckled, finding the boy's crush on his daughter kind of hilarious, knowing she had no interest in dating a Son. He would have applied the rule when she turned eighteen himself, but she had already stated she would never date one of his 'brothers' way before that.

"There are two sides to my daughter; the angelic side of her mother and the devious side of me. And you never know what side you're gonna get from one moment to the next. She can switch just like that," he said, clicking his fingers together, as a sinister smirk tugged at the corner his lips. "So, this should be fun to watch, aye, boys?" he mocked, as they all roared with laughter.

Poor Juice had no idea what he was getting himself into; swooning over the President's daughter.

☆《》¤

Originally Published on Wattpad on the 10/03/2024

A/N:

Please not, all Images were created by Bing's AI generator. Although, the title tag at the top was made by me.

Let me know what you thought of the Prologue to my Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction - Ride or Die.

Marley 😁

Words: 3182

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shinestarhwaa · 1 year

Text

Falling || C.S.

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: San x fem reader

Word count: 688

Warnings/tags: San is readers best friend but they're kind of in love, depression, mentions of death and trauma, abuse, family drama, anxiety, reader has no experience in love, insecurity about weight

(If ur dealing with any mental issues, pls remember ur not alone! Find someone to talk to, my door is always open <3)

ENJOY!

"I'm never gonna find love," you sighed, staring at the tv, displaying all the great names of actors who starred in the movie you just finished.

"What? What do you mean, never?" San commented, his eyebrows raising as he slid the hood from his head, revealing his silky raven hair.

"My life's just never gonna be as perfect as her's. She got it all. She has the job, she has gorgeous looks. She has a hot boyfriend, and look at me, I'm only a potato that no one wants."

San frowned. "What are you even talking about? You have a fine job, you're prettier than she is, you could easily get a boyfriend. You just need to learn how to open up," he said as he played with your hair.

"I'll never be good enough anyways," you mumbled, turning off the TV.

"You don't have to be so insecure, Y/N, you're doing okay, right?"

"Okay... yeah, sure," you sighed. Okay? No you were not okay.

You had lived your whole life with your parents telling you you weren't enough, hitting you once again when you didn't get an A on a test (even though you got a B).

Your entire life was about trying to make them happy, make them proud of you, but not once in your life had they told you this. Yet, you still loved them. Still needed their validation, because they were your parents.

Now you're well above 20, and you lost your parents a few months ago, as they passed together in a car accident. Your ignorant sister, who has always believed to be better than you has moved to the other side of the world, not bothering to even contact you.

Now even when they're gone you can't let it go. You flinch when people you care about raise their voice or raise their arms, you feel your heart beat faster with anxiety when someone looks at your body and you feel like you can not breathe when you have to make a test.

They ruined you.

No you were not okay.

Would you ever be okay?

San looked at you. "Y/N? Are you there?You've zoned out...," he said as he wiped a tear from your cheek. You hadn't even noticed you were crying.

You looked down. Can't look him in his eyes. His sweet loving eyes. You only wanted him to look at you the way you looked at him.

But he was a friend. With beautiful eyes that made you melt. A smile that makes you feel warm inside. Skin that makes every part of your body tingle when you touch.

To you he was San. But to him, you are just you.

"Sweetheart, don't cry... you'll get there. You have your whole life ahead of you," San said as he pulled you close.

Your head rested on his warm, muscular chest. Softly, you sobbed into his chest, tears staining his black t-shirt.

"San? Do you think I'm a failure?," you sobbed. San's heart broke, again, and again. With every tear he felt on his shirt. It broke him. He wanted you so bad. Wanted you to be okay.

San wanted to kiss you so bad, make you believe you're the most beautiful creature on this entire planet. A failure? You're an angel. My angel.

"Honey, you're not a failure...," he sighed. "Look at me."

Shyly, your eyes met his, and for a second it took away every sorrow in your body.

"You... are a beautiful young lady, inside and out. You have talent, you're passionate, you're beautiful, kind and sexy. You have nothing to worry about. I got you..."

"I am...? Sexy?"

You blushed a little when you noticed San's flustered look on his face.

He nodded softly. "You are sexy, you really are, I mean... you just have all the right...,'' San sighed, '' you are everything anyone could possibly want."

"But that's not true. No one wants me. No one ever has fallen for me," you sighed as you rubbed your eyes, mascara staining your cheek and hands.

"But I am falling for you, Y/N."

#choi san #san #ateez #angst #fluff #friends to lovers #trauma and shizzles #emotional #short oneshot

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misslavenderlady · 3 months

Note

OK Since you left me some questions about Cherry, I'm gonna leave you some asks about Bree!!

Who's our gals go to when it comes to late night rides? Which of the boys is she sticking with?

Each of the boys nicknames for her? Do they share a collective one?

Which of the baby bats are mama's girls or daddy's girls?

Do you think she and Michael would ever start a family in the future?

Awwww thank you!! You're too sweet! 💜

Being on motorcycles makes her nervous as hell. She's constantly worried about getting into an accident, so her go-to is actually Michael. He sometimes takes her on rides (😏) around Santa Carla or gives her a lift to work if she's having car issues. He's very sweet and patient and doesn't drive faster than what she's comfortable with. If she's with the Lost Boys, then her go-to is Dwayne. In her mind, if Laddie is safest with him, then he's the best pick.

And unlike the others, Bree wears a helmet. She doesn't care how much the boys tease her about it, brain damage is no joke. She will not get on the bike without it. She'd rather walk than not wear a helmet.

2. These are their nicknames for her:

David - Darling, Pretty Girl, Little One

Dwayne - Sweet Girl, Little Lady, Honey

Paul - Babydoll, Hottie, Wifey (makes her blush the most)

Marko - Bella, Angel, Nightingale (as in Florence Nightingale)

Michael - Bee/B, Babe, Beautiful (the second two are only for when they're in a relationship)

All five of them call her "Baby" most of the time

3. Honestly? It's an even split. The baby bats are basically clones of their fathers in both looks and personalities, meaning they're very attached to their dads, but their mother is so loving and kind to them. They all follow her around like ducklings.

Kira does tend to gravitate to her dad just a smidge more. She got her mother's need to take care of everyone, and her anxiety as well (sorry bby), so she wants to learn from her dad about being a strong, brave leader so she can protect her sisters. She's always spending time we David, getting guidance from him on how to hunt, fight and outsmart her enemies.

4. Okay......here's the thing. She kinda already does have something with Michael. This is a long answer, so I'll divide the post and add the answer below:

When I played this all out in my Sims game, I had a separate family for Michael and Star. Now, we all know about the terrible "sequel" to the Lost Boys called The Tribe, where our main characters are Chris and Nicole Emerson. I've seen some sources say they're Michael's children and others say they're his cousins. I feel like it makes more sense if they're his children. Not that I would ever enjoy acknowledging the movie as canon, of course.

But I thought "I can make this better".

So in this setup, Michael was in a relationship with both David and Star (Michael has two hands! He can share them!). He ended up having Chris and Nicole with Star while David became a step-dad to them. This was while the other baby-bats were around. Kira is the only one of the girls to have siblings that aren't biologically related to her. She sees herself as the big sister of Chris and Nicole.

Tweaking this story a bit, Chris and Nicole become the children of Michael and Bree. There's a bit of an age gap between the two Emerson kids and the Lost Girls, but they're all still family. Unlike in the movie, Chris and Nicole are still kids when the girls are grown up. Kira teases her brother a lot, but she's also a good caretaker to him, making sure he knows how to be a good big brother to Nicole.

That advice comes in handy because Chris grows up to be a very cautious and protective brother while Nicole is adventurous and reckless. He has to keep her in check so she doesn't wander into danger. He'd never forgive himself if something happened to her.

Bonus Grandma Lucy:

#the lost boys #tlb #lavender lady rambles #asks

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4200nemobackup · 2 years

Note

Hey love~ Could you get a request of mine done?

Sub!Jin as an aristocrat, who doesn't believe in any sort of myths as such, is a famous poet and is held in high regards in the society. Y/N is a reclusive widow, or so the people think... but secretly she's a vampire, and Jin gets successfully seduced by her?

I wish you could write about when she bites him and sucks him off👉👈... it's fine if this doesn't chalk up to your taste, but if it does ... could you please please please make a sizzling piece????

Ooooo sexy! I’ll be happy to write this for you! Thanks for sending it in!!!

____________________________________________

“Black lace”

Pairing:sub!jin x widowed vampire!reader

premise: King PD hosts a grand ball to commemorate his anniversary of becoming king. To this ball, he invites every known noble that resides in the kingdom. Among said nobles is Kim Seokjin, one of the Kingdoms greatest minds to date. The poet is treated as next to royalty, so no one expects him to be so mystically drawn to y/n, the dark widower with a secret she has yet to behold.

A/n: please enjoy! Thank you for sending this in, it’s so hot <3 I’m happy to write this and I hope you have good day! I’m sorry for talking so long with this. From now on I’m going to try my best to post more frequently!

____________________________________________

The clock strikes eight.

King PD had just given the guards clearance to allow every guest into the ballroom. It was time for the celebration to begin. No longer would the golden walls of the room be dormant; laying in wait.

King PDs chief knight; Namjoon, had opened the doors, and began happily greeting the royal citizens of Bangtan, one by one. It wasn’t long before they came flooding in, painting Castle Bantangs walls with their extreme etiquette and modesty.

The socialites each made their way in, one by one, or group by group, as it was immensely popular for citizens to attend these events in parties of four or five people. Seven, eight or nine, was also very common.

As Namjoon greeted Lady Boa, his eyes fell upon a familiar face in the line.

His chestnut brown tresses properly styled, a creme colored shawl and suit, leather shoes, and bedazzled staff, he all dawned. His clothes clung perfectly to his lean frame and broad shoulders, making him such the eye candy.

Namjoon was all but surprised; his friend was known for standing miles outside of the box.

The familiar face got closer until it finally graced Namjoons presence.

Ah yes, he recognized the poet from anywhere. His confidence a shadow, his utter beauty the Angel on his shoulder.

“Seokjin,” Namjoon began, as he bowed. Seokjin reciprocated; following formality was never an issue on his behalf.

“It’s nice to see you here. I didn’t think you would attend.”

Seokjin grinned. “How could I not? King PD is my favorite king ever.”

“I’m afraid He’s the only king you know, Jin.” Namjoon quipped with a smile. Jin chuckled and patted his friends shoulder. They loved banter; clearly it was refreshing.

“Aren’t you nervous for your speech tonight?”

Jin was a man of words. His words, his weapon. That’s what he was known for. A renowned poet. Everyone indulged in the many publishing’s of SJK, or Kim Seokjin. His poetry was everywhere, even in schools.

“No. Speeches are my thing.”

He could never be nervous to speak. It wasn’t in his nature.

Namjoon didn’t even know why he asked the question. He’d known Jin for so long at this point, it was clear that Jin had no issue with projecting his voice to people. He did it over text, and to Seokjin, it was no different from that at all.

“I’ll be off then,” said Jin. “I think those hors d’oeurves are calling my name.”

Namjoon chuckled, as it seemed that Jin was ignoring the obvious display of other socialites beckoning for his attention. He would give food his attention, but not his adoring fans.

Just as Seokjin was going to turn around, his eyes fell upon a feminine figure, draped with black lace from crown to soles.

Jin’s mind was quick to put a name to them; a black swan present among the opposite of its kind.

They sashayed closer, and the aura radiating from them absorbed Jin entirely. Jasmine and Vanille fragrance massaging his olfactory receptors.

“Good evening, Ms.l/n,” Namjoon greeted. She lifted her veil, revealing her stunning features to both Jin and Namjoon.

A seductive fox, with a dove for a face. An Angel, who’s true origins are unknown. Heaven or hell, did she crawl from?

Jin was known to use mythical creatures in his poetry, but no one really knew that he never believed in any of that stuff. He was a sucker for metaphorical poetry; allusions and allegories galore. Doves and the heavens went together to portray an image of a divine sight; a sight Jin didn’t believe in until now.

Now he believed in a higher power. Mother Nature must’ve had a limit to the beauty of her billions of creations. A God must’ve sculpted this woman out of porcelain and breathed life into her statue.

Of course, Jin was trapped under her gaze, a victim to true seduction in its purest form. She welcomely grinned at the man enthralled by herself. She knew him; he was Jin, the poet.

“You have the most beautiful eyes”, Jin begins. “Your eyes behold the truth of all time, and key to all earthly beauty.”

He latched onto her hand, and kissed it in custom.

“I will be the one to uncover each one, for I am an explorer and your irises, the unknown.”

She blushed at his compliment. She was easy to understand such metaphors.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

Such compliments were hard to come by for the woman. She repulsed people, not by her face, but by her past. People who knew her, hated her. Seokjin was a breath of fresh air.

“Tis not a problem, my dear. Would you like to accompany me to a table?”

Namjoon snickered behind his hands, laughing at how quick Seokjin managed to land a date for tonight’s event. That was so like him; his words got him into many situations.

The woman nodded gently and grabbed Seokjins free hand, sashaying once again with him by her side.

Her presence earned whispers and stares, a widow with a new man was bound to receive criticism.

Jin was clearly non the wiser to the current state of the royal ball room, or maybe he didn't care. He was indifferent. The woman in front of him was more enchanting and demanding than the thought of the other nobles and their bigoted opinions. Jin hated most of them, save for a few of the more pleasant bunch of his friends.

Long story short, the nobles always had their opinions, as did all people, so Jin cared little about their stance on most things.

He and his newly found date found a table and sat promptly next to each other, basking in each other’s new found presence.

Jin seemed to be enthralled with the woman in front of him. His eyes wouldn’t leave her face, as opposed to her, who stole a quick glance at him every two minutes. Jin’s tender stare was forcing her to shift her attention away from the formal speeches being given.

She tried to break the ice with a measly question.

“Don’t you have a speech to put on soon?”

Jin handsomely grinned. “Yes. I do, however I don’t go on until late. There’s many a time before I lay foot on that ugly stage, unfortunately.”

“Why unfortunately?” She asked with genuine curiosity.

“Because….I simply don’t care to stand and give these people my time. I am devoted to King PD, after all he saved my life a long time ago .These townspeople are ignorant though. I wish not to be in their presence. I only want to give the speech out of respect and my love for the action of admiration.”

Y/n nodded in great understanding. The towns nobles were judgmental. She knew this fact best. The people barely associated with her after the untimely death of her husband. Come to think of it, they never even seemed to like her enough then.

For a split second, the same thought crossed both their minds. They didn’t want to be sitting here, soaking up boredom.

Jin grabbed y/ns hand and got up quietly, trying to leave without a sound following their movements. Namjoon spotted them out of the corner of his watchful eye, wondering where they were going. Jin was the type to get horny during these things, Namjoon thought. He knew a lot about his friend and his occasional lack of restraint. He also knew it was because of Jins lack of any sexual encounters. If Jin had a dollar for every person that had a desire to get in bed with him, he would have been a billionaire. On the other side of the coin, if Jin had a dollar for every person he had actually slept with, he would have exactly ten dollars in a piggy bank with change for some reason.

The pair met in the secret hallway, if anything, more quiet than secret. The hall was empty, just them and their heavy panting present. They had held in their breath for too long.

The exhale they both let out revealed the heavy emotions of lust and exhaust. The room felt hot now, and they both began to look more attractive by the growing minute.

Jin found himself being suddenly controlled by her striking beauty. He couldn’t think straight as he stared into her dominant eyesight. What was happening to his body? He felt himself inching closer and closer to her by the minute, but why? Was this his doing?

In an instant, they both grabbed a hold of each other, grasping into each other’s faces with urgency.

Jin had figured some entity or emotion had assumed his brains position a long while ago, so he let the last of his coherency- his tongue- lead the way.

“I am parched,” he began. “Please; let me partake in the sweet wine your lips must have to offer. Allow me to drink from your well of fresh water.”

Under her breath, y/n seductively grinned, for this was her plan all along.

“Drink till your hearts content. Drink until your mouth is no longer is dry, for I will steal a drink from you myself. The virgin red wine you behold is mine, and I wish to have a glass.”’

Poetry was Jins favorite language to speak, and thankfully she was fluent.

Their lips collided, tongues fighting a war both of them wanted to give in to. Eventually it was Jin who gave in to his temptations further than he already had. He let y/n take the reigns of the situation, as there was nothing more he wanted than to be at her mercy. The feeling of lust and subservience was racking him all night as he was in her presence.

Y/n pleased Jin better than anyone ever did. She was better; they were making out for ten minutes straight, and she was already the best he ever had. This was evident by the way Jin was moaning in her mouth, wanton. Evident in the way that he was unconsciously rubbing up on her, trying to get friction against the growing problem in his pants. Of course she noticed his neediness.

Pulling away, she moved to make enact her plan.

Love bites were her favorite.

Jin shuddered as he felt her tongue against that sweet spot in his neck. A cute sound escaped his plump lips, making her smile. She was glad he was enjoying himself.

Jin felt so sensitive. Every single part of his body was tingling under her touch. Was she aware of how she was affecting him?

Y/n rested her sharp teeth against Jins sweet spot, ready to lend her true love to him. She hoped that it would only feel like a small prick to him. Her teeth delicately sunk into Jins perfect skin, causing him to cry out. She was frightened. Was she not careful enough?

Jin wasn’t sure what just happened but whatever y/n was doing under him was feeling so fucking good. His eyes were scrunched shut, and he refused to open them for his own good. He began to feel some heightened feeling possess his body. Everything- he could feel everything, pleasurable.

To test her work, y/n used her elbow to pin Jin against the wall. Her free hand found itself palming the man, and so sudden, came the moaning of Jin. He gasped and choked on his own spit at these sensations.

“Fuck~ please suck it. Please?”

Her work was a success, as usual.

“Well, my love. Since you beg so politely.” Y/n answered softly.

Y/n unzipped Jins trousers, pulling them down past his knees. She didn’t plan to get his clothes dirty, since he did have a speech to do soon.

She wanted to ruin him, not his outfit.

Y/n got excited at the outline in Jins underwear. His juicy, veiny dick made her so wet. It was a bit long, but nothing she couldn’t conquer. She had to tease herself and him, so why not lick it up through the fabric?

Jin tried closing his legs; the sensitivity getting the best of him. Fuck he wanted it so bad, but he knew he was gonna cum fast anyway.

“Awww. Someone’s sensitive, huh? Let me taste you baby. Don’t hide from me.”

Y/n pried Jins legs open with with simple ease. She wasted zero time, her tongue licking Jins tip through his boxers.

Various sounds spilled from Jins mouth, he was trying so hard to keep quiet but he couldn’t help it. He grabbed his shirt collar and shoved it in his mouth, trying his best shut himself up. It was for his own good. He never knew he could be this loud.

“Feels so good right?”

“Mhm-fuck.”

Yes indeed. Y/n reduced a man of words to sounds only. It felt satisfying at the least.

She followed by pulling down his boxers now, freeing his hard cock. The cold air hit his cock, making Jin suck in a a sharp breath through clenched teeth. The urge to shamelessly beg was becoming harder to fight. He was fucking losing so bad.

“Please Miss. Please suck my cock. I need it so bad.”

“Baby’s so polite. I’ll grant your wish, happily.”

Y/n started with kitten licks against his tip, making Jin tremble from the sensations. He whined when he felt her entire mouth wrap around his cock, eagerly sucking him up as if she were starved. Y/b bobbed her head, not even trying to save the Jin from his orgasm. She knew he would cum fast; he was supposed to. That’s what she wanted him to do.

“Fuck! Please don’t stop!”

Y/n took all of Jin in her mouth, making sure to choke on his dick.

Jin watched her below him, and the sight forced his eyes to the back of his head. He was behaving like such a needy whore, but he was being what he truly was. It was the truth, he needed this.

Jin was drooling now, these were the reactions y/n coaxed out of him.

She swirled her tongue around his tip, Jin began to tremble in his spot. So close, so close, fuck right there!

Y/n closed her mouth around him as her finishing touch, as his warm juices exploded in her mouth. He shook violently, uncontrollably whining from the powerful orgasm that had just racked his body.

Y/n swallowed his sweet cum, teasing him whilst his cock was still in her mouth. She came off of him with a pop. Various Juices coated Jins pretty cock. He felt dizzy now. He’s never came so hard in his entire life.

What was y/n? Who was she? How did she make Jin feel like that? Was it magic?

“You should get ready. You’re supposed to be on stage in ten minutes.”

Jin barely heard such information, his orgasm still messing with his brain. He was cloudy, but his emotions were clear to him.

That woman would be his downfall, his kryptonite. So mysterious, so seductive, so entirely perfect.

#sub!idol #sub!bts #sub!jimin #sub!jungkook #sub!hoseok #sub!jin #sub!namjoon #sub!taehyung #sub!yoongi #jin x reader #sub!jin x reader #royal!au #royal!bts #royal!Jin #vampire!reader

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what-if-queen-camilla · 10 months

Text

Chapter 14

There will be a poll again for this chapter!!!

04th October 1987

Middlewick House

"No, Darling, we will not have her baptised in the Royal Chapel!", Camilla sighed, rolling her eyes. They'd had this discussion at least a hundred times, yet Charles brought it up over and over again. "My daughter will not have a Catholic baptism!", he screamed into the receiver, causing Camilla to hold it up in the air, away from her head. "Charles! We've talked about this! Andrew is Catholic, Tom and Laura are both Catholic…" "But you're not! You're Anglican! Your daughter can have your faith!", he interrupted her and Camilla closed her eyes, sighing again. She was tired. Tired because Theodora, as sweet as she was and as much joy she brought her every day, woke her up at least five times every night, and even more tired of arguing with Charles about the same, old issue almost every day. "For the rest of the world, she is Andrew's daughter and, therefore, she will have his faith, just as our two older children!", she repeated herself and sighed tiredly. "But can't I at least be the godfather?", Charles almost begged her and though it felt like a stitch in her heart, she knew that the only right and possible answer was no. "You are the godfather of my first-born and we're all more than grateful for that. But you can't be Thea's, too. People would be suspicious - and rightly so! We cannot risk anything, please, darling, think of our daughter." "I think of nothing and nobody else, Camilla! Every day and every night, the only thing that's on my mind is Thea and how much I miss her! God, I'm going to get insane one day! I'm her dad but you won't let me!" "Charles, stop it!" Now it was her screaming at him and only seconds later she heard her baby crying next door. Of course, her outbreak had woken her up. "Fuck!" She felt tears filling her eyes and knew that her first priority now was to look after her daughter. "I'll call you back later.", she told Charles and hung up immediately, before she rushed over to the nursery, where her poor little baby was crying in the beautiful cradle Charles had given to her. "Come here, sweetie, come to mummy…", she whispered lovingly and carefully took her on her arms, carrying her around in order to calm her down. "Everything's alright, my little angel, mummy's here and takes care of you." She tenderly kissed her forehead before carefully sitting down on the sofa, placing her baby on her lap. "You know, little darling… Daddy loves you so much. Both of your daddies do.", she sighed. "As crazy as it might sound and as exhausting it might be sometimes… but other little girls don't even have one dad so you're very lucky, my little angel. Everyone loves you, my darling: Mummy, Daddy Charles and Daddy Andrew, Tom and Laura, Grandma and Grandpa, Auntie Annabel and -", her recital was cruelly interrupted by the door bell. "Goodness!", she thought. "Who's that?"

Turns out, it was the postman, bringing a very special, registered letter., addressed to her. The envelope featured a stamp from Buckingham Palace, the header of the letter inside showing the Queen Mother's cypher and the logo of Clarence House. Charles' grandmother had reached out and congratulated them on Thea's birth, sending flowers and a very sweet, heartfelt card; apparently (and not surprisingly) the old lady had been delighted that their daughter and herself were sharing the same birthday; she had even suggested Elizabeth as a middle name to emphasise their special connection which had let Camilla’s heart skip a few beats, but Andrew had assured her that his godmother surely only loved the fact that their baby had been born on her birthday, so they had sent her a Thank You card along with a couple of pictures of her little darling and, apparently, she had now replied once more.

"Dear Camilla and Andrew,

Thank you so much for the sweet photographs of your adorable little Theodora! What an absolute sweetheart she is! I do hope you will invite me to attend her christening, whenever it may take place! It'll be my greatest please to come, along with my grandchildren Anne and Charles.

With my very best wishes,

Elizabeth R"

Camilla let the letter sink down and gulped. The letter as such was wonderful, so lovely and heartfelt… but the mere idea of not only the Queen Mother but also both Anne and Charles attending Thea's christening, almost made her vomit. Not because she didn't want them there - the Queen Mother and Princess Anne - the Princess Royal as she had been named only just a few months ago - had attended their wedding in 1973 and Charles, as Tom's godfather, had of course been present at his christening in 1975 - but the prospective of all three of them attending her daughter's christening under all the impossible given circumstances was just too much for her.

"Your great-grandmother has some funny ideas, my little darling…", she said to her baby. "Bringing Daddy and Auntie Anne to your christening… how are supposed to get through that?" She honestly had no idea and, not for the first time since the birth, she felt some doubts and regrets creeping up on her - not that she regretted for a second that she had decided to have the baby: Theodora was the light of her life and the best thing that could've happened to her, and of course she loved Charles, who really was the most adorable daddy in the world, but sometimes she wasn't sure whether they'd all be able to keep the secret for the rest of their lives. What if Thea herself would become suspicious at some point in the future? What if one of them would ever give something away, not deliberately but just by accident? What if her little angel one day noticed the glances Charles and Camilla exchanged, what if she, as their child, felt something? She didn't want to burden an innocent child with keeping such a secret… it wasn't fair. None of this situation was fair to anyone and the only thing she could do really was pray that the Lord would have mercy and protect this poor, little, innocent girl from all evil out there…

#king charles #queen camilla #royal baby #royal family #fanfiction #fanfic #queen mother #andrew parker bowles #princess anne

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purplerain85 · 1 year

Text

The loss of Coco

Paring: Johnny “Coco” Cruz x Reader

Warning: angst, kind of mention of suicide by reader but it’s more of her cry for help, mental health issues due to the death of a loved one (soulmate), blaming Álvarez for her pain, swearing, so many tears.

A/N: I came across a Facebook clip and it just broke me. And all I could think of is how the reader would be months after the loss of Coco and how she blames Álvarez for her pain. I am ignoring the whole math mountain (Coco still had a drug addiction) and Hope.

Make sure you have tissues

Proof read by @withmyteeth and @yourwonkywriter thank you ladies so much 💗💗

Tags 🏷️ @withmyteeth @yourwonkywriter @raewritesfiction @darklydeliciousdesires @darqchilddaydreamz @redpoodlern @redwood-orginals @reyeswritesmc @chibsytelford @twistnet @twistneteclipse @nestorsgirlfriend @nessamc @blowmymbackout @drabbles-mc @rebelwrites @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna @challengeahellcat @indefiniteimagines

Other characters: Angel, EZ, Bishop, Creeper, Gilly, Nails, Hank, and Letty

It’s been 6 months Six long heartbreaking months and nothing ever seems to be getting better, the brain fog, your drinking has picked up, Letty tried to help you but she needed out of that house and left Santo Parde two months ago, you talk (well she text and you sometimes respond, but she is flourishing in Florida).

Angel is the main one from the club who checks in on you twice every single day to bring you food and see how you are doin g. He knows how broken you are but isn’t sure how to help you and you really think the only reason he comes around is because he feels bad for ignoring Coco.

You show up to the club as today is Angel’s birthday he wanted you to stop by and see Nails and walk over to the bar and ask for a rum and coke. “How have you been doing girl? I miss seeing your beautiful face around here” Nails ask.

You look at her and shrug “I’m still here, it’s not any less painful then when I got the phone call I still cry myself to sleep every night.” You say. Nails looks at you with sadness in her eyes as she doesn’t really know what to say. Other than she walk over and hugs you.

An hour later you are 6 drinks in and you are borderline drunk and then men come out of church and you see the one person who you were hoping and praying you wouldn’t see Álvarez and you can feel the anger and the hurt build ten times more. Most of the guys check in on you from time to time but Álvarez has never even reached out to you which surprised you in the beginning but eventually it just made you angry.

Álvarez looks at you and walks over and says “I know you blame me but I just did what I thought was good for the club” your shocked and look at him and raise your “the best for the club!? Are you fucking serious? Instead of helping him, you sent him away! Away from anyone who could actually help him! You just threw him away!”

Everyone has stopped what they are doing and watching you two Álvarez stares calmly back at you “look at you! You can’t even help yourself how would you have helped him? And what are you doing drinking that crap? You need to take better care of yourself. Especially if you want to get better, and in time it will!” He turns from you while the tears form in your eyes and in a split second you grab his gun and hold it to your jaw everyone gets up and but cautiously surrounding you.

You scream “What the Fuck! Nothing’s getting better, it’s only getting worse! Why isn’t anything getting getting better! It’s like I’m drowning in my own fucking head!” Angel walks closer behind you “I can’t do this shit anymore I need it to all stop for two seconds” Angel and EZ tackle you with EZ grabbing the gun from you and Angel holding you in a tight grip while you two crumble to the floor “I just need everything to stop!”

After the situation the night before you agreed to go to rehab and therapy and EZ has called for Álverez to step down as president because he and most of the rest of the crew including Creeper, Bishop, and surprisingly Nestor think that what happened with you was his fault and him acting like he didn’t do anything wrong doesn’t sit well with anyone. Álverez calls for a vote and he in unanimously voted out.

A year has past since that night you have made a completely 360 change. You sold Coco’s home and decided to move to a little island in Cuba and found love again with someone you never saw coming even though he was always there Angel.

Side not this is the clip that made me think of this and it just broke me

#mayans mc #johnny coco cruz #Johnny coco Cruz angst #johnny coco cruz x reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #heart been broke so many times #mentalwellness

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bellewintersroe · 1 year

Note

Since you’re asking for BoB headcanon ideas - what about something with Skip Muck? There’s so little content on him but he’s lovely. Maybe friends to lovers/mutual pining HCs with Skip? Just a thought 💕

hey, thank you so much for this request, I think this is so cute!!! I’ve never written for Skip but I feel like he’s honestly the sweetest cutest man in Easy ever- ok let’s go…

Friends to Lovers / mutual pining with Skip Muck x Reader…

Ok first of all this guy is a literal ray of sunshine, so I think he’d easily make friends with everybody who is anybody. He has no issues forming friendships- and I read somewhere that EVERYBODY LOVED Skip and still missed him 60 years on after his passing. This shows what kinda guy he was- a literal Angel.

So anyway, let’s say you’re in Toccoa together, maybe it takes a while for the two of you to talk/ acknowledge one another due to the lack of weekend passes- but maybe you’re both staying in Georgia and a couple of you head out to a bar.

I feel like one of the other men, maybe Liebgott or Malarkey would ask you to join them in a bar- and you all oblige. That’s when you get sat across from Skip!

I think the feelings would be mutual immediately? Or at least there’s the initial attraction there- the conversation between you both would be so energetic, it would be hard for anybody to catch up or join in half way.

Skip by the end of the night would definitely be thinking ‘oh my god who is this literal Angel, she is fucking perfect for me’.

but of course fraternising isn’t allowed in the army, but before all that, Skip doesn’t think you see him that way!! Of course he thinks you’re stunning and beautiful, but almost a little too good for him?! Something heartbreaking like that- and maybe you just think he’s being chatty and friendly, the way he is with everybody else.

anyway, there’s no indicator to either of you that you both felt that initial attraction, however, the pure excitement you both feel to see each other again is unreal.

I feel like Skip would (not so subtly) ask Penkala questions about you- to which he doesn’t have a clue cos he just met you too, duh. But then he kinda gets loud mouth Luz involved who tells other people, and then a weird rumour would probably spread about you that you’re already married or some shit.

You’re not, obviously, but this is just another reason why Skip remains completely friendly with you, and doesn’t pursue anything else? I think this is a real ‘indicator’ for you that he just wants to be your friend. So you’d just kinda sit and go along with it.

I feel like Luz or Guarnere would bring up your husband one day and your nose would scrunch as you fired back immediately. “What husband?” “Ya know, the one you’ve been married to for the past six years.” “first of all I’m only 21, second of all I literally don’t even have a boyfriend, never mind a husband!!!”

Penkala nudges Skip not so discreetly, as if to say ‘you’re in buddy!’

“So… you’re not married?” Skip, dumbfounded, asks. I feel like you’d most definitely blush a scarlet red colour out of slight embarrassment about the rumour, and to think Skip thought you were married and off the market?! That made you panic!

the men become way more flirty with you when they realise you’re not a taken lady. (Not that it stopped some of them before lmaoooo).

“It makes me feel so embarrassed, ya’know. Getting hit on in front of all my friends. I wish they’d lay off it for a while.” One day you and Skip are walking let’s say back from the pub together, or through Toccoa. You’re explaining to him about how sick of the flirting you are.

Skip wishes they’d lay off it too. “Well you’re a pretty girl, you know. They’re probably just dying for a chance with you.” The words slip out of his mouth quicker than he realises.

I feel like both your eyes would go wide and you’d both start blushing and stammering. That’s the first time the two of you get an inkling that the feeling of your friendship being something more might exist.

even though there’s the prospect of you two being together, I think the both of you are kinda worried that it wouldn’t be true thag you both have the same feelings- or you’re worried about ruining what you already have.

at some point in the friendship I think you both become comfortable becoming more touchy feely? I’m talking about hugs, grabbing each others hands, hands on each others backs. Or maybe you’re just moving Skip’s hair out of his face and suddenly you’d realise fuck fuck fuck you’re in love with him.

There’s no specific moment when you both remember being in love- it’s a culmination of things over time, and with the dangers of war, all your feelings are intensified and the longing for one another grows.

small glances from across the room/ area when you’re being briefed.

checking up on one another after every single day.

there’d be small ways Skip would find excuses to speak to you. Like “oh I found this I need to give it to her” or “I’m gonna go see if she’s got all her supplies because so and so said she’d lost her scissors.”

everybody has caught on, but Skip doesn’t know.

Big time jump to Bastogne, Skip has a narrow escape with his foxhole being bombed out- and you watch the whole thing.

Let’s say you’re on your way out to help somebody when you see your life flash in front of your eyes. I think you’d yell out his name in horror, and stunned by what had happened, Skip races over to you but only to make sure you’re okay.

there’s hot tears streaming down your face and Skip has never seen you cry before, he can’t stand it- it absolutely breaks his heart. He’s never felt so much adrenaline rushing through his body before, so when your hand is cupped over his face you just KISS.

Neither of you break apart to question wtf just happened, because oh my god it’s been such a long time coming- and just feels so right.

the concept of losing one another is beyond thinkable and too painful. You two are so deeply in love and Skip decides there’s absolutely nothing to stop the two of you being together now.

your feelings are out in the open, thank god, and you’re still each others best friends- yet the two of you are so in love and honestly just the happiest couple going.

without one another neither of you could’ve made it, you’d really be each others rocks, and Skip would still sit and question how the hell the two of you are finally together.

————————————————————————

aw cute, I’m so sorry this took so so long to write, but I hope you enjoy!!

#Band of brothers x reader #Skip Muck x reader #Band of brothers headcannons #Skip Muck headcannons

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thelaithlyworm · 6 months

Text

C-drama wot I've been watching lately

I've been on a Chen Xiao kick since watching The Ingenious One and Viki has been very kind about scratching that itch.

Dream of Splendor

This is based on an opera set in the Song Dynasty about a clever courtesan helping her friend out of an abusive marriage with some clever tricks, and the drama is, like, the continuing adventures of Zhao Pan-er and her friend, plus a nice butcher-lady whose husband had the bad taste to divorce her.

It's got a solid line in adventures and hijinks and a lot of social commentary about what it's like to exist in a lower social class where the law is explicitly written against you. I rejoiced in Zhao Pan-er's cleverness and valour even as the system she struggled with made me overpoweringly angry. And this isn't the Song Dynasty, but enough of those problems were intensely familiar. It's skewed very het, but the love interests are well-drawn and nobody's eclipsing anybody's identity or skills when they get together. Why They Fell For Each Other feels believable, as does, They're Going To Have A Happy Ending. People are *complicated* -- Chen Xiao's character, the love interest, works a job where torturing suspects is part of a day's work, and he doesn't like it but he doesn't quit, either; there's a character who's a colossal ass for two-thirds of the story but he and Zhao Pan-er become friends and really solid business partners; corrupt ministers continue to be corrupt and prosper... we've carved out a bit of happiness for characters we care about, but society hasn't improved a whole lot by the end.

And it's beautiful. There's a lot of art-work floating around, and some of the scenes seem to have been drawn specifically from paintings of the period. Various characters are virtuosos in various ways and display their skills -- down to cutting fish or tofu! It's amazing. 10/10 would reommend.

Being A Hero

I saw Wang Yibo's face advertising this and got the impression it would be very clean-cut and idealistic which I wasn't in the mood for at the time, and moved on. Boy Was I Wrong. It's set on the border where drug-smuggling is a huge issue and, while the forces of law and order do tend to be on the side of angels, there's a lot of issues with overlapping identities and complicated relationships. Wang Yibo is a young police officer. Chen Xiao is his childhood friend who disappeared three years ago after his father was killed and has now come back, thigh-deep in sin. And it's complicated. And various other characters have complicated relationships, there are ploys and counter-ploys and a constantly shifting landscape. Wang Yibo is very upright; Chen Xiao is a sad wet cat and their bromance is lovely. It has a huuuuge cast and I had some moments where I was squinting at the screen trying to remember who was who, but I'd say that's my shitty facial recognition at play, not a flaw in the writing. Special props to two actors I'm more familiar with as Marquis Yan and Xie Yu from Nirvana in Fire. They have amazing parts and they are so good, they act their parts so well my guys.

It's gritty, and hot, and violent, and sympathetic, and going on my rewatch list.

#dream of splendor #being a hero

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super-predictable98 · 8 months

Text

The Nightingale Girl (Good Omens AU)

Chapter 1: On a Rainy Day You Can See Forever

Word Count: 2 k

Warning: Strong language, very mild sexual content

a/n: Hello everyone, so as most of you know, English is my second language, so forgive me for any mistakes. I've been so in love with Good Omens lately and I just decided to start a new series. You can all expect more Michael Sheen and David Tennant related fics as well as more chapters in the future. Hope you all enjoy it <3 Oh, and this contains SPOILERS for season 2 of Good Omens

Rain was pouring and Aziraphale was looking through the glass of the front door of the bookshop. Cars would pass by splashing water everywhere and disturbing the mirror puddles on the pavement that reflected the London sky.

What he didn't notice was a young lady approaching the door in a black coat, her hood covered her face nearly entirely, and the only visible parts of her were her mouth and nose.

"Sorry, dear, we're closed," he said when he finally noticed she stopped in front of him.

"I know, but I... I'm soaked, can I come inside just for a moment?" She asked.

"Oh, of course," as usual, he was completely unsuspecting. He just saw someone who needed help and helped, being an angel he just couldn't resist.

Aziraphale opened the door and let the young lady in. She carefully dried her bright pink combat boots on the doormat before stepping inside.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Can I take your coat? Would you like some tea? Maybe a towel?" He offered.

"That would be nice, thank you."

"And what is your name, dear?"

"Rhiannon," she said, finally taking the coat off and exposing her hypnotic beauty.

She had bright brown eyes like the night sky, very pale skin, a captivating smile, and long hair in a middle part. One half was dark red and the other was pure white.

"Oh my- that is an interesting look... must be pretty hard to maintain."

"Not really, I was born like this. The doctors think it might be some sort of pigmentation issue."

"You were born with-" Aziraphale's voice disappeared when he noticed she had his smile, but Crowley's eyes. Not the snake-like ones he had now, but the ones he had when he was created, before the fall.

To make it even more daunting, she had a nose that looked like his own, but expressive eyebrows that looked like Crowley's.

"Hey, Angel, how did you- holy hell!" Crowley nearly dropped the plant he was carrying when he saw the girl standing there. "How did she...?"

"She was born like this," Aziraphale whispered before turning back to Rhiannon. "I should get us some tea."

"Wait no! Don't leave me alone with this... creature!" Crowley hissed.

Aziraphale didn't even listen, he had something to look for while the water boiled.

He had gotten a letter right after the apocalypse nearly happened, he never understood what it said, but it must be true since the sender was Agnes Nutter herself.

The note inside said: Angel shall not lie with angel, heavenly or fallen. For if two angels fall in love the consequence is a fruit made of two unmatching halves that might fall in a distant garden but shall roll until it hits your feet.

"Oh no... oh no!" He cried. "What have we done?"

When Aziraphale came back with the tray in hand, he was terrified of what he was going to find, but then he heard... laughter.

When he walked into the room, Crowley was laughing like a maniac while Rhiannon told him some story about how she got a teacher fired by organizing a riot in class.

"We had proper flags and chants, I really put my soul into it," she smiled.

"I see you two are getting along," Aziraphale chirped. If that girl was really who he thought she was, it was good they were getting along.

"Oh yeah, Rhiannon is great," Crowley nodded.

That was odd, the demon never warmed up to someone so quickly. Most times he didn't warm up to them at all, but she got under his skin.

She takes after him, I see... the angel thought as he served the tea.

"Rhiannon, do you live around here?" He asked, trying not to sound too curious.

"I just moved to London from Italy. My mother is British but my dad is Italian," she explained.

"Your dad! Yes, how lovely!"

"I was actually born here, they adopted me right before I turned two."

"Oh dear... that is a wonderful story," Aziraphale cleared his throat and handed the note to his partner. "Crowley, would you take a look at this?"

The demon read over the note a couple of times before it clicked and his mouth fell open. He looked from the girl to Aziraphale and back to her, that little nose... that smile... those cheeks!

"Shit!" He cried.

"Is everything okay?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes, everything is tickety-boo," Aziraphale assured calmly. "If you don't mind me asking, did you ever wonder about your biological parents?"

"I tried to look for them when I turned eighteen, but the orphanage didn't know a thing. I was left by their door without a trace of anything. Not even a blanket, no letter, no basket, just... me. They had no way of knowing where I came from."

"And how old are you now?" Crowley asked.

"I'm twenty-four, I turn twenty-five next December," Rhiannon sipped on her tea without a suspicion in the world.

"That tracks actually. Remember? That was the first time when we.." Crowley whispered and was quickly cut off by his partner.

"Yes! Yes, I do remember that!" Aziraphale murmured, blushing from head to toe.

"What are you two talking about?" The girl laughed.

"We... we have reason to believe that you are... related to us."

"What?" She stared at them confused.

"You see, we're partners. We think you might be our daughter."

"Am I missing something? I don't think that's physically possible. I wouldn't mind having gay dads, but two men can't really accidentally have a baby."

"That's easy, we're not men," Crowley shrugged. "I did feel a little morning sickness around that time..." he joked.

Rhiannon looked down at her long hair and frowned. She had no idea how to feel, that was a very weird and confusing situation at best and a cruel joke at worst.

"Why do you think that?" She mumbled.

"The resemblance is uncanny. You have so much of both of us," Aziraphale smiled. "And um, we got a prediction once that warned us about your existence."

"What does that mean? I don't understand, you're not men, but you're not... what? How?"

"He's an angel," Crowley said, knowing his partner would just dance around the issue and if she really was theirs, she had to know. If she wasn't, he could always erase her memory or something of the sort.

"I know, he's really sweet, but-"

"No, I don't mean figuratively. He's an angel, I'm a demon. Apparently when angels or fallen angels get together for the first time... you happen."

Without another word, Rhiannon's vision went black and she fainted.

"Why did you have to be so blunt? She was clearly having a hard time processing it!" Aziraphale whispered angrily while the girl's head was on his lap.

"I thought it was easier to get it over with like taking off a plaster, I didn't think she'd pass out," Crowley hissed back.

"Well, she's sensitive, she's my daughter!"

"We don't know that yet and if she is, she's also my daughter which should make her pretty tough."

"Ah, I know how tough you are... couldn't even slaughter a bunch of goats that one time!"

"The goats didn't do anything, why would I do that?"

Rhiannon slowly opened her eyes and saw Aziraphale staring back down at her with a gentle smile.

"Oh! She's awake! Hello, dear, how are you feeling?" He asked calmly.

"My head hurts..."

"I can fix that!" He carefully placed his fingers on her forehead and with the help of a tiny miracle, made her feel brand new. "Better?"

"Actually yes," she mumbled. "I guess that makes you really an angel. And you..."

"Really a demon, I'm afraid," Crowley took off his glasses, exposing his yellow snake eyes.

"Jesus Christ!"

"No, just me, but I've met him once. Really nice fella, too bad what happened with the cross and everything."

She didn't get it, did one of them get pregnant with her? No, definitely not, they seemed just as surprised as she was. Did she just magically appear somewhere with little red and white curls? Just knowing she wasn't actually abandoned took a weight off her shoulders she never knew she carried.

"How do we know for sure? I don't imagine you can order a DNA test," Rhiannon chuckled. "Your blood is probably... I don't know... glittery and fluorescent."

"Oh no, these bodies are perfectly human, dear," Aziraphale laughed. "But you were not made from our DNA, you are a miracle."

"And who do we know that can check out if a miracle happened and where it took place?" Crowley looked pointedly at his partner.

"Muriel! Of course!"

The angel who had been reading a book, carefully not listening to the conversation (after all, it was private), lifted her head when she heard her name.

"Yes?" Muriel smiled and looked at their guest. "Oh hello! When did you get here?"

"Who's that?" Rhiannon asked.

"That's my new assistant, since the last one moved away," Aziraphale explained. "Muriel, we need a big favor."

"Anything, what can I do?" She put the book down.

"Go upstairs, check the miracle records, 22nd of December 1998 around... 10 P.M was it?" Crowley gestured, asking for confirmation.

"Between 10:24 and 11:15," Aziraphale nearly whispered.

"Wow! At least now we know where I got my stamina from," Rhiannon joked which made Crowley chuckle proudly.

"So please check what happened that day, how many Lazarii was it, and where it took place," Aziraphale whispered as if someone else could hear it even though there was no one else there.

Muriel nodded and waved before she left with a big grin, happy to have her own little mission.

"Now what?" Rhiannon asked.

"Now we wait," Crowley groaned.

She leaned back in her chair, but suddenly her vision became hazy again. Only this time she did not faint, the room she was in crumbled before her eyes and she saw the bookshop from the outside. She was standing on the sidewalk on a beautiful sunny day, wearing a completely different outfit, and her hair was tied up in a ponytail.

"How did I get here?" Rhiannon mumbled to herself, not understanding what happened.

"Come on, Ann. Your father isn't doing so well right now," Crowley said, holding his hand out for her.

"What? Dad! Dad!" She screamed out of the window, seeing Aziraphale inside. She somehow knew that she was his and for some reason, she knew something bad was happening.

Aziraphale looked at her with a sad smile and waved, mouthing goodbye.

"He's leaving," Crowley pretended not to care, but behind his sunglasses, his eyes told another story.

"Leaving? Where is he going?"

"Heaven, he'll become an archangel or something."

"Dad! Don't leave me, don't leave us, Dad!" She pleaded, but it was useless.

Rhiannon started to cry, so human as she is, and Crowley took her in his arms, awkwardly rubbing her back.

"You're not leaving too, are you?" He asked.

"No, I'm not going anywhere, Dad," the girl hugged him fiercely. "Let's get to your flat, the plants need water."

And just like that, Rhiannon was back to the moment she was before the vision. Nobody was crying or distressed, everything was peaceful again, and the rain was still pouring outside.

"Hey... I think I just saw the future," she breathed, not even believing her own words.

"You did?" Aziraphale asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, and it's not good!"

Tag List: @jozstankovich @elliethesuperfruitlover (message me to be added to the tag list)

#good omens #good omens fanfic #aziraphale x crowley #good omens oc #good omens au #fanfiction #multichapter

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bougiebutchbitch · 1 year

Note

What’s beauyasha?

:vibrates at high speed: nonnie I am gonna make your day

Have you heard of our lord and savior Matt Mercer, hobo Jesus of Critical Role fame? if so, maybe you have also heard of his lovely wife, Marisha Ray, and their buddy Ashley Johnson?

Together, these three geniuses posed to us a very important series of questions.

(under the cut = spoilers for Critical Role, Season 2)!

What if there was a tough, butch, adhd lesbian monk with serious daddy-issues who was so desperate to be taken seriously and respected? Who acted so tough and tried to pretend nothing ever hurt her? Who was genuinely an amazing leader with a heart of gold, but who suffered from self esteem issues a mile deep?

What if she started aggressively flirting with her teammate, a mysterious tall, hot-goth barbarian lady who was oh-so-quiet and stoic and badass and most likely autisitc and - uh, did we mention hot? Like, literally from the first moment she saw her?

What if it started off as a 'haha me lesbian, you sexy lady' joke, but it grew into so much more?

What if, over the years that they knew each other, that monk came to realise that this barbarian lady was tough and sexy, yes, but also soooooo broken? That she was so traumatised and brutalised by the monsters of her past that she had forgotten everything - half magical-amnesia, half desperation to escape who she used to be?

What if that tall, hot-goth barbarian lady was a fallen Aasimar who had married young and had her wife ripped away from her and murdered by her cruel tribe? Who hated herself so much for being unable to save her wife that she let a demon take over her mind and use her as his puppet for so very long? Who eventually escaped his grasp, but could never quite eradicate his touch from her mind?

WHAT IF THE DEMON EVENTUALLY COMES BACK TO CLAIM tHE BARBARIAN AND TAKES HER MIND AND BODY AGAIN AND SHE IS FORCED TO WATCH HERSELF BE USED AS A WEAPON??

WHAT IF SHE WEEPS HELPLESSLY AS SHE EXECUTES THAT KIND, TOUGH, MOUTHY LITTLE MONK WHO SHE HAS BEEN STEADILY GROWING CLOSER TO (and may be the first person after her dead wife she's permitted herself to view in a romantic light)?

WHAT IF THE MONK GETS REVIVED BUT THE BARBARIAN IS STILL WRACKED WITH GUILT?

WHAT IF SHE HAS A FUCKING BEAUTIFUL ARC ABOUT LETTING GO OF THAT GUILT AND HER GRIEF REGARDING HER WIFE, AND OVERCOMING HER HORRIFIC TRAUMAS AND REGAINING HER AASIMAR WINGS?

WHAT IF SHE REGAINS HER WINGS IN A GLORIOUS SCENE WHERE THE MONK IS FALLING OFF A CLIFF AND THE ANGEL CATCHES HER (and then the wings vanish after like ten seconds so they both fall into a pool of water like IDIOTS and have SUCH a cute little awkward laugh about it)?

WHAT IF THEY CONTINUE TO DANCE AROUND EACH OTHER FOR SEVERAL WEEKS AND EVERY INTERACTION IS JUST SOOOO CHARGED AND FRAUGHT WITH EMOTION AND DELIGHTFULLY AWKWARD??

WHAT IF THEY CONFESS THEIR LOVE TO EACH OTHER TO THEIR FRIENDS, AND EVENTUALLY TO EACH OTHER, AND MAKE LOVE IN A MAGIC TOWER THEIR WIZARD FRIEND MADE?

WHAT IF THEY GO ON TO FACE THE ULTIMATE VILLAIN TOGETHER - WHO IS THE BARBARIAN'S OLDEST AND DEAREST FRIEND - AND BOTH ALMOST DIE MULTIPLE TIMES???

WHAT IF THEY BOTH SURVIVED AND LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER???????

Anyway if you like the sound of this, you should totally check out my fics hohohoho:

Quiet, Quiet

You Got Daddy Issues

#beauyasha #:gasps for breath:#I'm so fucking normal about them

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cerezzzita · 9 months

Text

Evangeline Céliath, The Angelic Huntress

⋆ Character Traits + Headcanons

Daughter of an angel and a human woman; her father is the leader of the Virtues and represents the Virtue of Temperance.

French heritage from mother's side, can speak it since she was 8;

Thanks to her jackass father strong angelical genes, she have long, straight pearly white hair, from her mother she heritated her jade-green eyes;

Have a beauty mark on the left corner of her mouth that's not exactly a beauty mark, it's a spiritual scar that showed up after a very traumatic episode...

Is 175cm / 5'9 inches tall, hourglass figure (we stan a big boobed curvy lady here)

Her favorite colors are white and light blue.

Met with Dante when he was 19 and she 18, in the middle of a hunt, and lets just say they didn't started well; they started as strangers to rivals, but that good, healthy rivalry.

Around their 20s, they became roommates because Evangeline did not lived at the same city Dante lives + at that point they were pretty comfortable friends around each other.

And they were roommates... omg they were roommates

She's from a city called Caelumia — a healthy, fancy city that's known for the "The Doorway to Heaven" status.

Dante have many, many angel-related petnames for Evangeline: lovebird, birdie, wingaboo <- this one in particular is similar to Chat Noir calling Ladybug "bugaboo", cherubabe, but his ultimate favourite is angelcake. In return, she calls him daredevil.

^ You'll hardly see Dante calling Evangeline by her actual name, though. It's either the petnames or variants of her name (Angie, Line, Vangie, Angel).

She have a thing for hazelnut flavoured food, especially hazelnut cookies with cinnamon on it, it's her comfort food.

Also have a several sweet-tooth.

Evangeline's Angel Trigger is brown, white and gold colored and looks very much like this.

Her wings are summonable by will (it wasn't until she hitted her 15 years), whether on Angel Trigger or not and are very big, eagle-like shaped with golden-brown feathers.

^ now cut for Dante snuggling on her wings whenever he can.

Is a Devil Hunter not because she had some demonic-related traumatic episode, she hunts them because she saw what horrors they are capable to do with the Human World and with the humans who cannot defend themselves properly; and it didn't seemed fair that she, who's strong and capable to rip them with her bare hands, wouldn't do something to "repair" it.

Evangeline's combat moves style are inspired by ballet moves, she wields her spear with grace but precise choreography.

Speaking of, angels have a thing for spears and absolutely despises swords like the demons use because "we are creatures born from pure light, they are unhinged darkness so we're better than them bla bla bla". So, since ever, Evangeline was trained to wield spears, having one named Adamant.

^ Angels also don't like fire weapons, but she owns a platinum pair of guns named Grace & Glory.

^ she refers to them as "my girls/besties".

Is demisexual. Never dated anyone until Dante.

Evangeline is kinda touch-starved but very affectionate, loves cuddling with Dante on their days-off.

Is a morning bird and a light sleeper, waking up at 6:00 AM everyday, no matter how tired or sleepy she may be. Much in contrast to Dante, who's a bed bug and sleeps like a rock.

Knows how to cook, loves cooking and always end up bringing breakfast on bed for her lovely, lazy devil.

Usually she's the little spoon when cuddling but they switch, mostly because Dante loves to bury his face on her ample, soft breasts.

^ this bitch likes to call them Jupiter and Saturn, I'm-

They dated until DMC1 events, after that, thanks to daddy issues and Heaven and Hell problems, they broke up.

Got stuck on Heaven for quite some years and after the events of DMC2 she finally came back buuut they didn't were in the best of the terms. Took a lot of time for them to befriend again, to like each other again and eventually, be lovers once more.

Does sculpting on wood and knows how to draw, but overall prefers sculpting.

She does have some sketches of Dante sleeping, eating pizza, on the phone, etc.

Evangeline have a thing for teen 2000s magazines and decor magazines as well, she likes to make notes with arrows and circles, pointing out what she liked, what could be better, etc.

When she's whiny enough she snuggles on Dante, giving him lots of kisses and squeezes just the way he likes.

Teases and flirts with him wherever, whenever. Gosh, they even have little flirting contenders, they are so silly, I love 'em.

Smells like cinnamon and hazelnut, with a petit hint of vanilla.

Huge, and I mean, HUGE, fan of Sade and her songs, her favourite albums being Diamond Life and Love Deluxe.

#idk if ill make this for all my dmc ocs im doing for evangeline bc she's my fave #sorry if it lack details btw its a lot of plot #devil may cry #dmc ocs #evangeline céliath #dante x evangeline

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xxthefairywitchxx · 2 months

Note

Are there any F/Os you're uncomfortable sharing? I couldn't find any info about it in your carrd

To be honest it's usually most of them, though I've been getting less...idk intense about it? It's been less of an issue lately? Maybe it's cause my current main is Ian Duff, a dating sim character, so it makes it a little easier to deal with?

Generally I just block people if I see we share an f/o unless it's a mutual then I just block their tag for that character.

Lemme just...Copy paste my whole ship list under the cut for ease of explaining who I am and am not comfortable sharing, that'll make this simple...And I'll keep the tags so anyone can block any tag they need to

encouraged actually, not just okay with: 💓

yes: 💖

no: 💔

depends: 🫀

Princess Peach - Fruitbowl 💓 Jaden Yuki(Yu-Gi-Oh GX) - SuperLuv 💔 Jesse Anderson(Also GX)- Southern Jewel 💔 Aster Phoenix(GX) - Angel 💖 Sartorius Kumar(GX) - Gummybear 💖 Blair Flanagan(GX)- Kitten 💖 Adrian Gekko(GX) - Insurance 💓 (take him) Jack Atlas♥(5Ds) - Bastard Man 💖 Kalin Kessler(5Ds) - Puppy 💔 Carly Carmine(5Ds) - Lady Friends 💖 Link(LOZ) - My Hero 💔(this one sucks, he's so popular and z3l!nk is every where) Dark Link(LOZ) - Shadow 💖 Linkle(LOZ) - Girls Do It Better 💓 Bonnie(fnaf) - Bunny Boy 💔 Foxy(fnaf) - Pirate Protector 💔 Monty(fnaf) - Rock And Roll 💔 Baby(fnaf) - Clowning Around 💓 Nova(fnaf oc kinda?) - Shooting Star 💔 Broly(Dragon Ball Super) - Let’s Rock 💔 Tadase(Shugo Chara) - Strawberry Shortcake 💓(he was bullied so much when I was in the fandom he needs more love) Frankenstein's Creature - Patchwork Hearts 💓 (more people need to love him) Dylas(RF4) - Tsundere Tango 💖 Keith Claes(Villainess Isekai) - Linked Hearts 💖 Alan Stuart(Villainess Isekai) - Resonate Soul 💖 Red Velvet(CRK) - Dark Desire 💖 Pure Vanilla(CRK) - Sweet As Sugar 💖 Vash(Trigun) - Heart Typhoon 💓 (love him getting love) Knives(Trigun) - Million Hearts 💓 (get him away from me) Joe Tazuna(YTTD) - Keychain Buddies 💔 Alice Yabusame (YTTD) - Love Crimes 💔 Rio Ranger (YTTD) - Dressup Doll 💔 Naomichi Kurumada(YTTD) - Final Countdown 💖 Mai Tsurugi(YTTD) - Creampuff 💖 Trash, Garbage & Scum(River City Girls) - Brothers Gross 💖 Sunny Day Jack(SWWSDJ) - Sunny Days 🫀 Ian Duff(SWWSDJ) - Second Chance 💖 Bo(Dachabo) - Dog Toy 💓 Taylor Pots(Gallagher Mansion) - Lovely Dork 💓 Garrett Golde(Snaggemon) - Pretty Idiot 💖 Bram(Snaggemon) - Rival Bicycle 💓 Keaton(Fire Emblem Fates) - Favorite Treasure 💔 Kaden(Fire Emblem Fates) - Mutual Pampering 💖 Corrin(M) - Dragon Prince 💖 Chrom(Fire Emblem Awakening) - Hot Dad 💓 Dimitri(FE Three houses) - Taste Of Love 💔 Alfonse(FEH) - Prince Charming 💖 Otr(FEH) - Dear One 💖 Elm(FEH) - Batty About You 💔 Karamatsu(Osomatsu-san) - Fashion Disasters 💓 Ichimatsu(Osomatsu-san) - Furreal Boyfriend 💓 Sir Pentious(Hazbin Hotel) - Soup Snake 💔/🫀(I have a mutual who ships with him and I just...don't look at that tag...) Cherri Bomb(Hazbin Hotel) - Cherry Pie 💖 Arackniss(Hazbin Hotel) - Spider's Kiss 🫀 Striker(Helluva Boss) - Cowboy Snake 🫀 Gonta Gokuhara(DR V3) - LoveBug 💔💔💔 (idk why but I've had to block more people for him than anyone else) Kaito Momota(DRV3) - Outta This World 💖 Nagito Komaeda(SDR2) - Lucky Day Hajime Hinata(SDR2) - Loverboy 💖 Izuru Kamakura(SDR2) - Ultimate Love Junko Enoshima(DR) - Terrible Queen 💓 Mukuro Ikusaba(DR) - She Wolf 💓 Sabro Sabnock(M!IK) - Precious Metals 💔/🫀 (someone rebloged a gush post for him but otherwise it might be fine?) Shichiro Balam(M!IK) - Gentle Sunset 💔 Ameri Azazel(M!IK) - Blushing Beauty 💓 Atori(M!IK) - Wax Prince 💓 Purson Soi(M!IK) - Daddy Issues 💖 Kisshu/Dren(TMM) - Alien Feeling 💔 Anos Voldigoad(Misfit at Demon King Academy) - Sweet Laughs 💓💓💓 Arven(Pokemon ScarVio) - Puppyboy 💖 Piers(Pokemon SWSH) - Dark Heart 🫀 Riddle Rosehearts(TW) - Red King 🫀 Andrew&Ashley Graves(TCOAAL) - Three Of Them 💓💓💓💓💓

that is so much and I hope I didn't miss any...And didn't lose any since the formatting got hella fucked...

#ask #ask me #ship list #anon #selfship #thoughts on sharing #proship safe #antis dni

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septembersghost · 2 years

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"i feel like people really desperately want to put female characters into boxes and get frustrated when it can't be done" it's been years but you're reigniting my fixation so please talk about this wrt norma bates

norma is everything a Strong Female Character™ is not supposed to be. she's emotional to the point of hysteria, she's irrational and reckless, she's beautiful and her beauty is commented upon and coveted and admired in unhealthy, obsessive (even territorial) ways, she is a survivor of extreme abuse and sexual assault and she does not respond the way "good" survivors are supposed to respond - it doesn't make her kinder or stronger, she's kind and strong on her own, but it has nothing to do with the horrors she's suffered, which have made her traumatized, reactive, and fearful, and also have taught her she can use her body and her powers of emotional persuasion to manipulate men when she has to, even though she hates herself for it and is disgusted by it. men crowd around her and grasp at her and are continually connected to her. norman, dylan, alex, caleb...and those are only the ones we spend the most time with...she can't get away from what they want from her, how they perceive her, the pedestal they put her on that she didn't ask for, the desire they have for her to be their ever-present angel and caregiver and lover and forgiver and martyr, shifting depending on the situation.

(i reblogged a post a while back about how the narrative never really moralizes about how "bad" the actions of the characters are, and that's vital in understanding it too.)

she is defined by her role as a mother. it's unavoidable. she knows she whittles herself down in this ("parents do not have needs. you ever read the book The Giving Tree? it's about a tree, and this kid keeps coming and taking stuff from it his whole life, until there's nothing left but a stump. and then the kid sits on the stump. that's being a parent" norma, baby. no. you're still allowed to need things!). she struggles with some real internalized misogyny and messed up jealousy issues and a controlling streak. she breaks down in front of people ("welcome to the world ladies! there are axe murderers and whores stuffed under every rug, so your kids better read up on it and get educated, because that's what life is. it's a cesspool you claw and scratch and fight to swim out of, but you never get to the top!"), she does her very best to be hopeful, sometimes to the point of living in denial ("it's all gonna be good"/"I had this dream when I was little, of a home where the door was open and friends could come and go, and stay for dinner and talk, and everything would be lovely"), and at the same time gets disoriented by despair ("no one's gonna help us, norman, no one's ever helped us"/"maybe fate wins here..."). she unfairly shuts out her older son, and he doesn't understand why or what his presence constantly reminds her of until he's grown, and though they love one another, they can never quite mend. she coddles and overly shields and protects and ferociously loves her younger son, to the point where they are unfathomably codependent, and he feels that she's the only person who could matter to him in the world, but also resents her hold on him and is stifled by it. she judges his friendships/connections and he begrudges her interference, but he doesn't want her involved with anyone else either and views outsiders with suspicion and possessiveness. he also, you know, disassociates and becomes a dangerous (and promiscuous, femme fatale-like) image of her. she is never safe and she lives in continual terror - even of her precious son, because she knows somewhere in him is a simmering hazard, though she tries her very best to deny and suppress and even reshape it. she is overly intimate with him emotionally (and physically on occasion, i wouldn't classify it in an abusive way, just too close of one, though that stems from her own history of abuse), trying to make him into the one man she can trust, rely on, the one who will always stay and will protect her, while also keeping him as her innocent, her baby. she's not neglectful (she's overly attentive, if anything), but her inability to face how severe his illness is and assess the care he needs because she is frightened of losing him is ruinous. she tries with everything she has, to the bone, to be a good mother for him, and coming from her background, with nothing to model that on, it's courageous of her. their extremely abnormal relationship is the beating heart of the story in beautiful and terrible ways.

she brutally kills a man (he deserves it, but still), and is complicit in covering up other murders, and when she realizes her son is capable of doing harm, she does not initially do the right thing and get him help or turn him in, she hides it. when she does eventually get him help, it's too late, and she concedes to letting him out early, and it quite literally gets her killed. (she gets alex to marry her for his insurance and then they wrap themselves up in their bubble of tremulous comfort and let their guards down and find a very real, if ephemeral, love, but it's still not enough to overcome.) she is, in short, a mess. she does not have it together. she does not make the right or reasonable choices. she does not balance her emotions or control her anger or hide her desires.

she is also warm, and compassionate, and funny, and brave, and talented, and a freakin' warrior. she is caring and luminous and immeasurable in her capacity for love. she makes every space brighter, she brings home along with her. everyone who meets her is infatuated and admiring of her because she has a uniquely special spark in her soul, and it can't be resisted. she says once in dejection, "i'm not educated, or polished, or nice, i'm nothin'," but that couldn't be further from the truth. she is a light in the dark and affecting to all around her. she's graceful and sweet. in a softer world, one where she hadn't been so hurt and hindered, she would be nothing but wonder and sunshine and resilience. in a softer world, her son wouldn't ever have deteriorated or split like he did, or harmed anyone, especially not her.

she cooks, she sews, she nurtures, she weeps. she dresses herself up. she is every feminine thing we're not supposed to be, if classifications are divided into "strong" and "not strong," she is every emotion we're not supposed to display, every flaw we're supposed to hide, all the things that make a woman "too much" - too broken, too angry, too ashamed, too giving, too tender, too loving. too alive. she is so, so vibrantly alive. she is complicated and awful and wonderful and real. she feels real because they never dull her emotions or shave down her edges. she is everything she is, to her last breath. it's no wonder she has a gravitational pull. it's no wonder romero, despite his resistance, falls so persistently, poignantly in love with her. it's no wonder norman cannot exist without her, has to conjure a version of her that will never match the real thing, never be the real thing, because she is half his soul, and he is in an abyss without her. she is the cord bound to his heart. losing her is akin to losing the sun.

she is not a heroine, strictly speaking, and yet she somehow is (she's nowhere close to a villain). she's just...this astonishingly whole person. astoundingly damaged, but perseverant. it's...norman's eulogy. as shattered as he is himself, as incapable as he is of grasping reality in the moment, what he says is true to him and thus the story. the most wonderful person who ever lived. she was just beautiful beyond words...radiant...half queen, half little girl. she had an innocence to her that illuminated everything that she did, everything that she touched, every word that she said. she was like a miracle. what chick says is true. she was a lovely woman. too lovely for this world. it'll be a darker place without her. it's shelby (evil bastard that he is), when he says, you're so beautiful, it just makes my heart hurt. it's caleb (all his unforgivable sins notwithstanding), saying, to my sister, who has always been like the sun in a cold universe. it's romero, who wants so badly to be her savior even though he has blood on his own hands and cannot possibly achieve such a thing, saying, i love you, i'll always love you, whether you're here or not, okay?

her death is treated with such care that it transcends its own horror in an unsettling way, and (like i said the other day) the image of that, of norman walking calmly through the house, sealing out the air, is seared into my memory. before the narrative even begins, we know she's going to end up a preserved body in a basement, her beauty frozen, her inner flame blown out, her physical self eerie and slowly withering away. her true soul gone, a dark mirror of her existing only in projection, in the schism of her son. we know this, and we still fall in love with her, and understand her, and sympathize with her, and, maybe most surprisingly, root for her. we desperately want her to live. she's dead from the beginning and there's still this irresistible urge to wish that she lives. but because we know she can't, she haunts everything. her heels clicking down the stairs, her music in the parlor, when she laughs and when she screams, her presence permeates each frame of story like lingering perfume. she is aching and adoring and doomed forever. a dream and a death. she is the ultimate ghost. you can't help but love her. no one can.

#i love her so much #literally when i say it's kim and vanessa and norma. the importance they have to me #i love talking about a dead fandom (unironic please give me a reason to) years after the fact #it is like wandering an abandoned house and setting out little vases of flowers #it's new to ME so i am dusting off the furniture!#norma bates #i am still standing #bates motel #sorry this is so long akhjsdjkh #anonymous #letterbox #*#vera farmiga

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