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likecanyoujustnot · 2 months

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Jude’s trial, Cardan’s pov

A/n: I’m supposed to be getting ready for my birthday party but I have massive procrastination issues. And this picks off right where the letter ended. Kinda long.

“What do you mean he is dead?”

There were tears in Taryn’s eyes as I paced in front of her.

“He washed up on the beach near our house.” She sniffed. “I don’t know how it happened.”

“When did you notice he was missing?”

I had last seen him two days ago. Entertaining a group of young faeries.

“He didn’t come home after last night and that’s nothing out of the ordinary, you know how he is.”

Yes I did.

“What are you going to do about it?” She looks at me cautiously.

“Hold a trial, I want to find who did this.” I may hate his cheating guts but I wanted to know who in my court thought it was a good idea to kill off my master of revels.

She froze. “Am I a suspect?”

“For now, until we can rule out your innocence.”

She nodded slowly. “What if it was Jude?”

It was my turn to freeze. “What makes you think it was her?”

“She doesn’t like him, and she doesn’t like you much at the moment either, this could be her way of sending a message.”

Not likely. If she wanted to send a message she would’ve crept into my rooms and slit my throat while I slept. This wasn’t her style.

“Trials begin at the beginning of the week, in two days, you are first Taryn.”

She nodded and walked off, a slight tremble in her hands.

Dammit.

Valerian and Locke. Both dead. I didn’t mourn valerian and I doubted I would mourn Locke. They were both awful. But it was now just me and Nicasia. I would probably have to tell her of the murder. She’d probably believe it to be Jude. I don’t know how Taryn could sell out that it might be her twin sister.

I didn’t think it was, but still.

I gave instructions to the guards and Randalin and went back off to my room.

My head was pounding and I wanted nothing more than to just sleep.

I was the king. I could do whatever I wanted.

And so I slept.

The next few days passed without hassle, until the day of the inquest came.

I saw Nicasia first.

She looked awful. Tired and distant. A dress the colours of the sea on her. And next to her stood my mother.

It was night time, the first of the stars visible when a mortal woman walked up to where we stood.

She wore a bronze dress and had a hood pulled over her head.

Taryn looked so much like Jude it hurt. I wonder what would happen if I just left and ran off to the mortal lands to find my wife.

The cold voice of one of my personal guards cut through the chatter. “Taryn Duarte. Wife of Locke. You must stand in the place of petitioners.”

She moved to where she was indicated to stand.

“Taryn?” I asked.

She raises her eyes to me and I am struck by a realisation.

That’s not Taryn.

That’s Jude.

The high queen of faerie.

My wife.

My heart skipped a beat.

“Your majesty.” She said.

“We recognise your grief.” I did my best to keep my voice even. “We would not disturb your mourning were it not for questions over the cause of your husband’s death.” Though I supposed I’m her husband.

Jude.

Here.

“Do you really think she’s sad.” Nicasia cut in. I almost roll my eyes. She steps closer to Taryn- no, Jude- and I tense. Nicasia had a tendency to be irrational, had he friend had just been murdered, making her even more unpredictable. “Did you kill Locke yourself? Or did you get your sister to do it for you?”

“Jude is in exile.” Her words are soft, and I yet again marvel at how easily she can lie. “And I’ve never hurt Locke.”

“No?” I interjected. I leant forward on the throne. My tail twitched. She’s lying again. If she is truly Jude, which she is, she has hurt Locke in the past.

“I lov…” Jude stopped. To anyone else it would look like she was grieving, as though the words were too hard to say.

But I knew better. She was having to force herself to say it.

“I loved him.” She lets out a little sob.

“Sometimes I believed you did yes.” I force my tone to be absentminded, as though I didn’t care. I did believe she loved Locke. And I hated her, for loving him and not me, Locke for tricking her, and myself for not being good enough. “But you could be lying. I am going to put a glamour on you. All it will do is force you to tell us the truth.” I curved my hand and magic shimmered in the air.

“Now, tell me only the truth. What is your name?”

If she wears no protection, under the glamour, she will be forced to admit her title as well. Jude Duarte Greenbriar, High Queen of Elfhame, wife of Cardan.

And that would cause a huge problem.

“Taryn Duarte.” She curtsied. “Daughter of Madoc, wife of Locke, subject of the High King of Elfhame.

Liar. She had to be Jude. I smiled. “What fine courtly manners.”

“I was well instructed.” We were instructed together.

“Did you murder Locke?” There is a silence following my words. The folk quiet in apprehension.

“No.” She said, she gave a pointed look to Nicasia. “Nor did I orchestrate his death. Perhaps we ought to look to the sea, where he was found.”

I wanted to laugh at the poeticness of this moment. Either Taryn had killed Locke and didn’t want anyone to know, or Jude killed both of them and was know planning my own demise. That didn’t scare me as much as it should have.

Nicasia turns to me. “We know Jude murdered Balekin. She confessed as much. And I have long suspected her of killing Valerian.” I wondered how she would react if I told her she had killed him. “If Taryn isn’t the culprit then Jude must be. Queen Orlagh, my mother, swore a truce with you. What possible gain could sue have from the murder of your master of revels? She knew he was your friend- and mine.” Her voice breaks at the end, her grief palpable.

I peer back down at Jude. “Well, what do you think? Did your sister do it? And don’t tell me what I already know. Yes I sent Jude into exile. That may or may not have deterred her.”

She looks like she wants to punch me. “She had no reason to hate Locke, I don’t think she wished him ill.”

“Is that so?” I knew for a fact she did.

“Perhaps it is only court gossip, but there is a popular tale about you, your sister and Locke.” I wanted to snap at my mother for bringing herself into a conversation where she is not needed. “She loved him, but he chose you. Some sisters cannot bear to see the other happy.”

I glanced at her.

“Jude never loved Locke.” Her face went a slight pink. “She loved someone else. He’s the one she’d want dead.”

I flinched at both meanings to her words. She wanted me dead, and she loved me.

I wasn’t sure which alarmed me more.

She loved me

Loved.

As in past tense

“Enough.” I said before she could keep talking. “I have heard all I care to on this subject-”

“No!” Nicasia interrupted. Everyone stirred a little. She cut me off. The high king. She seems to realise it as she goes on. “Taryn could have a charm on her, something that makes her resistant to glamours.”

I glared at Nicasia for undermining my authority. I look back to Jude and give her a cruel smile. “I suppose she’ll have to be searched.”

I could sense Nicasia’s sneer.

Jude stood up taller in a position that reminded me of Oriana. “My husband was murdered. And whether or not you believe me, I do mourn him. I will not make a spectacle of myself for the court’s amusement when his body is barely cold.”

I admired the sheer will and determination in her voice.

My smile only grew. This is was chance to get her alone. “As you wish. Then I suppose I will have to examine you alone in my chambers.”

I could barely keep myself from smiling in glee. Jude was back. And she was following me to my rooms. And there I would ask her why she stayed away so long. Why she didn’t come home to me.

She was nervous, she had no clue I knew she wasn’t Taryn. And that scared her. She knew that if I had her undressed I would know her body. Her scars and imperfections.

Never mind I could tell who she was just off of her face.

I passed a hooded servant carrying pale green wine.

There was a cry and a crash behind me and I wip around. Jude is on the floor, the servant with her. Her dress soaked in wine and the shattered glass around them.

Jude helped the servant girl sweep up debris before she says. “Oh no, my lady, your pardon, you ought not lower yourself.”

One of my guards catches her arm. “Come along,” he said as he lifted her to her feet, and we continued walking.

Two servants open the heavy doors to my chambers and I threw myself down in a low couch in the parlour, Jude stood awkwardly in the centre of the room.

My feet rested on the stone table. “Well.” I said, patting the couch beside me, an invitation for her to sit. “Didn’t you get my letters?”

“What?” She croaked.

“You never replied to a one. I began to wonder if you’d misplaced your ambition in the mortal world.”

“Your majesty.” Her said, voice stiff. “I thought you brought me here to assure yourself I had neither charm nor amulet.”

I raised an eyebrow and my smile deepened. “I will if you like. Shall I command you to remove your clothes? I don’t mind.” Not in the slightest.

“What are you doing.” She’s desperate now. “What are you playing at?”

She still thought she can convince me she’s Taryn. It was adorable. “Jude, you can’t really think I don’t know it’s you. I knew you from the moment you walked in the brugh.”

She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

I stood, watching her intently. “Come closer.”

She took a step back.

I frowned. “My councillors told me that you met with an ambassador from the court of teeth, that you must be working with Madoc now. I was unwilling to believe it, but seeing the way you look at me, pervades I must.” She was angry, and rightfully so, looking like she wanted to run me through with a knife. “Tell me it’s not true.” It could not be true, she wouldn’t plot against me, would she? Though if I died, she would be free to rule without me, Madoc whispering in her ear.

“I’m not the betrayer here.”

“Are you angry about-” I stopped, studying her face more carefully. “No, you’re afraid. But why would you be afraid of me?” I’d never done anything for her to fear.

“I’m not.” She trembled. “I hate you. You sent me into exile. Everything you say to me, everything you promise, it’s all a trick. And I, stupid enough to believe you once.”

“Of course it was a trick-” I noted that she was now holding a blade. Sheathed, but it looked deadly.

Suddenly everything shook. An explosion that was close enough to cause us both to stumble. Books fell and crystal orbs rolled onto the floor. I looked at her, surprised, before I realised, she could have done this. My eyes narrowed.

Then there’s the sound of metal striking metal, swords.

“Stay here.” She drew the blade.

No. “Jude, don’t-” I call after her as she slipped out of the room.

Dammit.

I had Jude back, and I would not loose her again. I drew into my power, commanding it to listen, to reshape the burgh. Commanding the doorways to crack and shrink. From the screams of the guards I knew that vines, roots and leaves were clicking them, starting to creep around their necks, strangling them.

They had taken Jude.

And they would not forget it.

#cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #judes trial cardans pov #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing #the folk of the air #folk of the air #jude duarte #jurdan #jurdan fanfic

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superprincesspea · 4 months

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Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 2 - A Court of Sharks and Dances

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

Several weeks after your meeting with Aemond, a raven arrived at Storm's End, inviting your family to spend the summer in Kings Landing at the bequest of Queen Alicent.

The letter marked an unexpected turn of events for the Baratheon family who had never been favoured by the Queen and, though you were quietly suspicious of Aemond’s involvement, you couldn’t be certain.

Either way, your father certainly was pleased by the request. Spending the next month boring you all with the rules on how he expected you to behave at court and how it was high time his three eldest daughters found a suitable husband.

You, on the other hand, were more concerned by how this invitation would lead you straight into the dragon's den and path of the very man you’d been trying to avoid.

Vhagar had been spotted more than a handful of times gliding over the bay these past few weeks, and you had certainly not ventured down to the beach in all that time. No, you had hardly left the castle walls, and mortification had stuck to your skin like a blemish only you could see.

So, when the time arrived for you to leave for Kings Landing, you were not in high spirits. Not that your family noticed. Too busy with their own thoughts on the power and position which could be gained from a friendship with the crown, they barely listened when you feigned illness or tried to make excuses to grant you leave from the journey.

Afterall, refusing such an invite would be akin to madness. No, in your mother's opinion, nothing could make a girl feel better than a summer of opulence and splendour in the Red Keep.

Jousting, dancing, feasts and handsome young knights. The upcoming festivities should have been the stuff of dreams for an unmarried high-born lady such as yourself. But you were descending into what felt like the beginnings of your own personal hell.

Unlike your sister Cassandra, you were not accomplished in music or the arts. Nor were you fun and vibrant like Maris, who was always the epitome of charm and wit.

Defiant and sour was how Septa Orella had often described you and that was on the days when you’d tried your best to behave like a lady instead of muddying your dresses. Though you were older now, you supposed not much had changed since then. If it had, Aemond would not have caught you splashing in the waves like a naughty child.

But it was too late to do anything about that now. Aemond had seen you that day and, if Septa Orella was still alive, you were certain she would have enjoyed knowing you were finally getting your comeuppance. Not that you would have dared to tell her your reasons for wanting to avoid Kings Landing. That was a secret you hoped to take to the grave, yet you had the terrible suspicion it would soon be revealed for all to hear.

It took over a week for your family's carriage to finally make its way through the bronze gates of the Red Keep. You supposed this moment was inevitable, yet it still came as quite a shock, your nerves frayed, your stomach churning. The only comfort was the cover of darkness and the late hour which provided you one last night before you had to face the other courtiers and, of course, Aemond .

You were met by a servant who had been standing by for your arrival, and he escorted you all to a suite of well-appointed chambers which had been readied for your stay. You even had your own room. A large four poster bed commanding its centre, curtained with heavy green brocades which matched the sumptuous quilt and feather pillows. On the nightstand, there was a stack of leather-bound books, and the window was furnished with a velvet chaise on which to read them.

Everything was perfect, and you would be quite comfortable here if it wasn’t for the gnawing dread which squeezed your insides every time you thought of a certain dragon prince. And there was no remedy for that . Only resignation, though you did not want to accept the idea of actually having to see Aemond until he was standing right in front of you.

In the morning, breakfast was brought to your family's chambers on gilded trays along with a roll of parchment which summoned you all for an audience with the Queen.

Again, you tried to make an excuse which would allow you to stay behind, but Borros Baratheon had no interest in the complaints of a daughter. So, when breakfast was cleared away, your stomach only filled with nerves, you had no choice but to follow your family into the Red Keeps imposing hall.

You were announced, one by one. Your father, mother, Cassandra, Maris and then you. All presented to Queen Alicent who seemed as uninterested in your arrival as her son, Prince Aegon, who was standing by her side.

Princess Helaena, however, was very excited by the appearance of three young ladies and was quick to greet you all. Without having to ask, she explained that Aemond was not in Kings Landing at present.

He was hunting with Vhagar in Dorne and, though the thought of him racing through the sky on dragon back made you shiver, you were suddenly free, and a whole world of opportunity seemed to open up before you.

Perhaps you would not see Aemond at all, what an enticing thought that was, even if you knew it wasn’t true. Still, you would not see him for a while and that felt like long enough.

When you were allowed to leave the great hall, you joined Helaena and your sisters for a stroll in the rose garden and you were surprised by its beauty.

Roses clambered and sprawled for as far and wide as the eye could see. Every shade of pink imaginable punctuated by froths of lavender and bright purple spears of salvia. It smelled divine and hummed with the buzz of a thousand bumble bees.

Accompanying you through the turns of the garden were a gaggle of wealthy suitors, who were like sharks in the water at the smell of fresh young blood. Yet even they did not deter from the roses.

You’d brought a book from your room to allow you an excuse to avoid eye contact with Aemond. Now you had every intention of reading it under the shade of a good tree, but Tyland Lannister had other ideas.

“May I join you, Lady Baratheon?” he asked gallantly, sweeping his long golden cape over his shoulder as he knelt on the grass before you.

Though much older than yourself and of no interest to you personally, he was master of ships and favoured by the royal family, so you had no choice but to smile and say, “of course, My Lord.”

He sat a little too close, his expectant eyes waiting for you to entertain him with small talk and flattery as young ladies are trained to do. But you were not as well-bred as your sisters, nor did you have any interest in the men at court.

You held his stare, your fingers quietly itching to open your book, but he was not deterred.

“I trust your journey here was pleasant?” he said.

“As pleasant as can be expected, my Lord.”

“And you find your quarters here to be suitable?”

“Indeed.”

“That is good. Will your family be attending the dance this evening?”

“I believe so.”

He smiled, satisfied and not at all deterred by your clipped, formal answers. In fact, the conversation continued like that for quite some time. Even when you made haste to escape from the shade of the tree in favour of the sun. Lord Lannister took it upon himself to escort you around the grounds with a keen interest in everything you had to say, and he was not the only one.

After a while, you were joined by Lord Karstark and Ser Harrold, all three of them vying for your attention in a manner you were wholly unaccustomed to. Your fathers banner men would never be so bold in their pursuit of his daughters, and you had never been outside the boundary of the Stormlands before now.

You were relieved when your mother finally called you to tea and disheartened some hours later when it was time for the feast and the first of the summer dances.

Still, you had no choice in the matter, though you would rather stay in your room and make good use of the chaise and your stack of books. It wasn’t just Aemond you wanted to avoid; it was court. It didn’t seem to call to you like it did to Maris and you envied her excitement and her gown.

Hers was new, the prettiest shade of sage green velvet while yours was honey yellow silk. You loathed yellow. But that was the price of being a third daughter. It had been a beautiful dress on Cassandra, now it was too old and unstylish for the eldest of the Baratheon girls.

You had complained of such maltreatments when you were younger. But your mother had always said ‘your face was your bauble’, and it had meant as little to you now as it did then.

The saving grace was your shoes, and they were beautiful indeed. Black velvet pumps which Cassandra had painstakingly embroidered with dainty flowers and vines while hers were plain.

So, deciding to at least try to enjoy the evening, you entered the hall, which was bursting with life and vibrance and, when it came time to dance, you were certainly not without partners.

In fact, you were spoiled for choice though Tyland Lannister seemed determined to commandeer your hand at every opportunity. If you were to be honest with yourself, you enjoyed the attention, and the twists and turns of each dance with greater pleasure than you’d hoped to achieve. The music was merry, and the elderflower wine drank like sugar syrup before swirling happily in your veins.

And that’s how it was for almost two weeks at court. Fun and Frivolity.

After the first few days, you’d almost forgotten the reason you didn't want to come here in the first place. You enjoyed all the lazy afternoons in the garden and looked forward to the evening entertainment with as much excitement as your sisters.

Ser Harrold, a knight of the realm and the second son to his father’s modest estate, had quickly become your favourite dance partner. Though your hand was still very much pursued by the master of ships. So much so, that your father had begun to imagine Tyland Lannister might even propose. An idea which gave you a new dread in the pit of your stomach.

So that night, some thirteen days after your arrival in King’s Landing, it was Tyland's attention which you were trying to avoid. So preoccupied with evading his advances, you couldn’t be certain just how long Aemond Targaryen had been witness to the whole scene. Only that when you noticed him, lurking in the shadows at the edges of the room, you could hardly look away.

The wine had begun to make you feel as light as a feather, but Aemond’s presence seemed to ground you to the floor like a boulder. The dance no longer feeling as merry and Ser Harrold’s arms becoming little more than a prison for Aemond’s scrutiny.

When had he returned?

Why did he look at you like that?

When the dance with Ser Harrold was finally over, you said ‘goodnight’ and retreated to your room without sharing a single word with another soul and certainly not the dragon prince.

Then in an act of self-indulgent madness, you tried to fool yourself into thinking he might have forgotten all about that day at the beach. Or at least forgotten the finer details, yet you could remember them all.

The way he had looked at you, the curve of his smile and the soft commanding sound of his voice.

You had never hated someone until then and you hated Aemond Targaryen more than anything.

Why couldn’t he have stayed away?

The next day, the routine was practically the same as every other. Breakfast in your chambers followed by an afternoon in the gardens. Only this time, the men who had been begging for your dances, could barely look you in the eye. Even Lord Lannister had no interest in the usual small talk and left the gardens almost as soon as you arrived.

You couldn’t stop the knot which formed in the pit of your stomach. Or the gnawing realisation, that while all the other young ladies were flirting and laughing with suitors, you were cast aside. A solitary figure in a crowd of couples with only your book to keep you company until it was time for tea, and you were certainly ready for it.

You’d never spent such lonely hours in the company of so many people before, and you were certain it was no coincidence.

Had Aemond told the men at court of your indiscretion?

Would he shame your family for your actions that day on the beach?

What was worse, you had nobody you could ask without risking exposure. No, better to hold your head high and remain as calm and unshaken as possible in the face of utter social annihilation.

~~~

Thank you for reading! So many people found this story so quickly which is exciting. I wrote most of this story at the start of last year and I wasn't sure if I was going to publish it but I'm glad I have. Hopefully I'll be able to post another chapter or even two before I return to work and real life in a few days. But what do we think so far? Has Aemond revealed all? Or something else?

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader

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pillow-anime-talk · 8 months

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Hi. For your event, can i request 42 with Poseidon? Also, he/him pronouns, please.

# tags: scenario; kinda friends with benefits; romance, i guess; smut; yandere!poseidon; human!reader; nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual activities, size kink, blowjob, deep throat, choking, crying, slut names

includes: male reader ft. poseidon {ror}

author’s note: hi and thank you, anonnie!

42. “… You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Each of the gods had their favorite people; Zeus adored those who were hardworking and worshiped him, Hercules loved every human being regardless of their character or manner, Apollo liked poets, especially those who wrote about him, Medusa only loved women who had experienced a lot of bad in their lives, and the only people Hades liked were the dead ones. Poseidon also had his one favorite human

It was a simple man with no worries and with adoration to the sea; maybe you liked swimming or surfing, maybe you just liked the view of the sea and its atmosphere in the evening, or maybe you just loved watching programs related to the deep. Nevertheless, you were curious about the water and what secrets it holds.

And meeting Poseidon was only a matter of time for you. It’s just that one day the King of all Oceans appeared on the beach where you were and without a word of objection took you to his underwater kingdom; that same day you became his personal toy and pet, who received from him both small gifts in the form of pearls, but also spanking and long hours spent in bed, which gave him a lot of pleasure (and you too).

Most of the time you were on land: working, studying, and hanging out with your family, but when Poseidon was bored, wanted some body pleasure, or just wanted to hold you on his lap while observing his realm, he would send sea creatures for you or he personally took you to his place.

After all, water is everywhere, and since water is everywhere, so is Poseidon too.

{ ･ﾟ✧ }

That day you spent time next to the fair-haired god, who calmly sat on his huge throne, listening to the requests of sea fish and other creatures. He reluctantly granted their wishes, immediately ordering them to leave the palace. His eyebrows were tight and his eyes cold; he looked serious, dignified, but also really attractive, much better than any man you’ve ever met on the ground.

Spending time with the God od Water made you know him much better – you knew what he wanted, what annoyed him, what he liked and cherish. And at that moment he just wanted sex. Thats all. It was both a human and a divine need.

“… You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.” You said slightly amused, not yet realizing how your behavior might be perceived.

“Stupid?” His indescribable gaze rested on your eyes, then your shoulders, waist and thighs. Your human clothes were fun and incongruous with the decor of the great throne room. “On your knees.” He said in a loud voice, moving his hand and then close the huge iron door to the room. With a slight smile, though also uncertainty on your heart, you approached the god, sitting right in front of him. “You better make me feel good, because this could be our last meeting.” He added in a more weary tone and you nodded. You would never say ‘No’ to him.

With a slow movement of your fingers, you took off the lower part of Poseidon’s clothes; his cock was so huge and glittered more than the mentioned above pearls. You licked your upper lip with relish and after a short while taking his dick in your mouth. Due to the length, you helped yourself with a hand that took the lower part of the cock and tightened it a bit.

While sex itself was a nice thing for Poseidon, watching your almost animalistic behavior while giving him pleasure seemed to be even more fun for him. Your mobilization, your desire to please him, fear of killing your person and your devotion to him was a satisfying sight.

“Suck it faster and harder, cumslut.” He grunted, resting his cheek on his clenched hand.

The sound of choking echoed through the light-colored walls, and the first tears appeared in your eyes. The head of the dick was banging against the back of your throat, almost tearing it apart, and the other hand was taking care of the balls. You sucked his cock hard and passionately, massaging the skin on his muscular thighs and both testicles at the same time. You could even feel your underwear soaking with your own juices, hungry for touch and some pain.

“How pathetic. Crying in front of another man like a typical whore. Even goddesses of lust aren’t as horny as you.” He chuckled throatily, watching your reaction to his comment. Your cheeks flushed red and your heart sped up. You didn’t say anything but sucked on his cock more and more. “Try harder and maybe one day I’ll ask my little brother to make you a cock-sucking hero.”

#—🎉#quote prompts #prompts challenge #4k followers #4k special #prompt 42 #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok scenarios #record of ragnarok imagines #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie scenarios #shuumatsu no valkyrie imagines #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #poseidon #poseidon scenarios #poseidon imagines #poseidon x reader

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pjoxreader · 9 months

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Hey! Doing good I hope?

I’ll make this quick, I would like to request a child of Hecate reader who has powers that are similar to the Scarlet Witch? (So they’re really damn powerful 👀😬), and I was thinking they can be paired with: Jason, Leo, and Percy? So, everyone else fears the reader, but those three.

Thank you!

Powerful Reader Feared By Camp

((I'm hanging in there thanks for asking! Reminder to everyone that all nighters suck lmao))

Jason Grace

-You were used to people being scared of you, that’s just how things were. Even your own siblings had come to avoid you. You didn't mind too much, you were used to being alone. That was until he showed up.

-You had helped with the war and were working on recovering when he walked into the infirmary eyes instantly landing on you. “You’re amazing!” he says, going to your side. You pause looking around to make sure he was talking to you.

-Once you were sure he was in fact talking to you, you stare at him in surprise. “uh… Thanks…?” you manage to get out but feeling the stares of the others in the infirmary you tense up. “You… Shouldn’t talk to me… You’ll end up an outcast…” you mutter softly anxiously rubbing your arm avoiding looking him in the eyes.

-Despite having fought for your camp it just seemed to make people more scared of you. Jason goes quiet with that seemingly debating his words. “Well… It’s a good thing I’m already an outcast.” he says and sits down beside you with a little smile, offering you a water bottle.

-”Maybe we can find our place together.” you stare in surprise at that but can’t help a little laugh a subtle blush on your cheeks as you take the water. “That’s cheesy...” But you couldn’t deny you liked it.

Leo Valdez

-You were just enjoying your privacy talking a walk through camp when you bump into him. “Ah, sorry.” you say quickly assuming the person would go into a panic. However they just lift up their goggles from their face and stare up at you.

-”Woah, you are one fine king, queen, or monarch.” He says as he gives you a little grin trying to lean against the cabin and missing proceeding to fall. He at least quickly recovered, getting up and leaning against it correctly.

-You kinda just stare at him not expecting that, but you can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your throat. That just seemed to encourage him as he got a big grin on his face. “Oh I have so many more of those.”

-You really didn’t expect this to be the way you spent your day, having Leo Valdez, hero of Olympus following you around and giving you horrible but adorable puns. He did start to run out so just went on to horrible jokes. -”This one is Percy’s favorite. What is the best tool in the ocean?” After a dramatic pause he gets a dorky grin. “A hammerhead shark.” You groan loudly and dramatically but also give him a little chuckle at least.

Percy Jackson

-You were enjoying a quiet moment by the lake, dipping your feet into the water to cool them down during the hot summer. You lay back on the beach with a small sigh of relief looking up at the sky to cloud gaze.

-”You can come swim, you know that right?” A voice calls surprising you. You sit up quickly, eyes going red as you get ready to use your magic but Percy puts his hands up in surrender. “Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you.” he says with a little laugh.

-Seeing it was just Percy you calm down sighing a little. You had seen him around camp but hadn’t gotten to know him that well… “Yeah… Yeah I did know that just… No one really wants to swim with me and I’m not that strong of a swimmer.” You admit, a bit embarrassed.

-Percy hums softly in thought. “I’ll teach you then! Swimming is a really important skill after all.” he grins offering you a hand to help you into the water. “Who better to teach you than the son of Poseidon! Come on, I'll have you swimming laps around the other campers by the end of the week.”

-You can’t help but huff a laugh at that. “I’ll hold you too that.” you decide on taking his hand to join him in the lake and that’s how your swimming lessons with the son of Poseidon began.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

#pjo #hoo #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #pjo fluff #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #hoo fluff #jason grace x reader #jason grace

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sports-on-sundays · 8 months

Text

prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 3

Warnings : Switching between second and third person

Summary : Prince!Charles x Princess!Reader - Charles and Y/n grow closer and closer as they court.

Author's Note : I hope you guys aren't minding the way I decided to transfer race car driving into this AU as chariot racing. Link to Part 2, which has the link to Part 1 attached to it.

Requested? : No.

A week later, you are back at the castle in which the prince Charles lives. You are wearing a dress that goes down to your knees, stockings underneath, and a hand band in your hair. A servant is leading you down a cobblestone trail, in a beautiful garden with old mysterious trees and bright sweet flowers, to where Prince Charles is apparently waiting for you. The garden is very nice, and obviously taken care of very nicely. It's a peaceful place to be.

And sure enough, soon enough, there he is, with the sun shining on him. He is wearing less fancy clothes than you have ever seen him wearing before, but in your opinion, looks better than any other time you have seen him before. When he sees you, his face immediately lights up. "Hello, Princess! Come here and sit down next to me on this bench. Servant, you can be off, then."

The servant nods, bows, and turns, walking off, as you walk over to Prince Charles and sit next to him. Right away, he takes your hand in his, and says, "What was your father's reaction at hearing about my request and want to court and marry you?"

"Well, he was quite worried. He cares about his country, and wants to make sure I will be there for it... In a way, I am worried, too."

"Do not be. I have a plan forming in my mind."

You look at him in his sparkling ocean green blue eyes. "What is it?"

He hesitates. "I don't want to get your hopes up..."

"Tell me."

"If I can convince Lorenzo... Perhaps when we marry, instead of ruling and living in this kingdom, we can rule in your kingdom, together."

"What about the land you have responsibility for?"

"Well, at this point, it's Lorenzo ruling that land, along with the main one, and he's not having any issues. And if he started to have issues, he could give it away."

"Give it away? No king want to give away land."

"Lorenzo might if it's too much of a pain. And not many people live there, either. There aren't many resources on it, and the bordering kingdom next to us has been pressuring us for it for a while."

You nod slowly. "So you're saying we would rule my country, together? As the king and queen?"

"That's what I'm thinking. I would be more in charge if you wanted me to be, and if you wanted to be in charge more, you would be. Either way, we'd support each other in it. But don't tell your father about this. We'll just have to see."

You nod again. "Alright. Fair enough. I understand."

"By the way, you look beautiful today."

"As do you look very handsome," you smile.

Then he shows you around the gardens. For the first several days of courting he just shows you around the whole huge castle. You get to see the gardens, the arsenal, the fountain and pool, the beach, the porch, the throne room, the ballroom, the bath house, the old chapel, the great chamber, the servants' and guards' sleeping quarters, the courtyards, the stables (and of course the horses that carry him on race day), the kitchens, the drawing room, the offices, the training grounds, the race track, and even more. Everywhere he goes with you he holds your hand and looks out for you. He doesn't care if you wear heels and nice dresses, so most of the time you just go in boots, stockings, and simple dresses. And regardless of what you're wearing, he always reminds you, without failing, of your beauty.

And with every day, he seems to get more and more attractive.

In fact, on the day when his hair is falling on his forehead and his clothes are simpler, looks just as good as when he's all fixed up and dressed nice. You love his laugh and all the different unique and silly stories he has to tell about each room. He asks you questions, too, and you become more and more comfortable talking with him. He talks, you listen. You talk, he listens.

In a way, the connection with him seems to grow. Your hearts go out for each other more and more, and there's a spark in between the two of you.

You genuinely enjoy Prince Charles. You genuinely love his company. You love being with him.

"Prince Charles, how many children do you want?" you ask him. You're sitting together on the outdoor porch. His arm is gently resting over your shoulders, and you're just enjoying the day together.

"You know you can just call me Charles. You can drop the title."

"Really? That isn't disresp-"

"I intend to treat you like you are- on the same level as me. Many people believe men are on a higher level. I believe you're not lower than me, and so in the same way, why should you believe I'm higher than you?"

You nod. "I always love what you have to say, Charles."

"That's good," he grins. "Because I think I talk quite a bit." He waits a few seconds, before saying, "Anyway, to answer your question... I've always wanted three."

"Always?"

"Yes. I've always wanted a family, Y/n."

"I thought you said you didn't."

"I never wanted to start a family with any of the women who were brought to me. And I never wanted to start a family if it was going to keep me from my passions, like racing, and music. But I know with you, it won't. I've always loved family, and longed to start my own. And I've always wanted three children."

"Why three?" you ask.

He shrugs. "I have a sweet spot for it. Maybe because I have two brothers."

You nod. "That makes sense."

"But I know you don't want a family, let alone a big one. So if you only want one child, I understand, and we can aim for that."

"No, it's okay... I'll have to think about it. But you're growing on me."

He smiles. "That's not the first time you've said that to me."

"It's because your stupid handsome face and your stupid sweet personality seem to just keep growing on me more and more."

"Good," he chuckles. "That's the way we want it."

You sit in silence together for a few more minutes, before Charles says, "Tomorrow, I need to go."

"Where?"

"I have a race."

"Where? Can I come?"

"Sure!" he says right away, as though he was just waiting for you to say that. "You can come! We'll leave tomorrow morning!"

"I'm excited to see you race."

"And I'm excited for you to see me race."

Charles puts on his racing suit, and he can only think about Y/n. He exhales slowly. Can't think about her right now. I just have to focus on what I'm about to do out there. As he checks on his horses, he thinks about the ride over, and how he talked with her about racing, and she said she always has had a passion for it.

Everything I learn about her, I become more and more convinced we're made for each other.

His teammate Carlos walks in to check up on his horses. Carlos is a prince and a knight in his country, and his father, a former racer, is the king. It's very common for richer folks to be in the sport of chariot racing. "Charles," starts his teammate. "I've heard the news."

"Which news?"

"I saw your princess out there, waiting to watch us."

"Lovely, isn't she?"

"I suppose so. I'm just astonished you've finally got someone."

"She's a sweetheart."

"I'm sure," Carlos chuckles as he realises by the look in his teammate's eyes how much he really does have an affection for her.

Charles and Carlos have been teammates for around four years now in their team, and as the older one by three years, Carlos has always been prone to teasing Charles about his lack of, as Carlos cruelly has put it in the past, 'getting women'.

Soon enough, Charles finds himself getting into his chariot, getting for a race.

And soon, they wave the flag, and every other though vanishes from Charles head as the race begins.

You don't mind that Charles is sweaty and dirty. You hug him tight and kiss his cheek, exclaiming, "What an amazing race! You're such a good driver!"

Charles laughs out loud, giving you a kiss back on your cheek."Thank you!"

You look into his happy eyes, and you feel warm inside.

Content.

Charles ended up getting second place. He turns as someone you recognize enters the room. "Oh, you're Prince Carlos!" you exclaim.

He smiles a bit with a wave. "Hello, Princess Y/n."

"I didn't even realise it was you!"

He nods with a shrug. "Maybe I'm not that recognizable."

"No, I think you are," you smile. "It's great to see you."

"You too," he nods respectfully, before walking on.

You look back at Charles, and once again, you feel that spark between the two of you.

After that, every single race he has for that next month of courting, you're sure to go to. And you always cheer him on.

"There's a ball in another kingdom that I was told we should go to together," Charles says to Y/n before he leaves her to go to the room she's been sleeping in for bed.

"What day?"

"Overmorrow."

You nod. "Who will be there?"

"Oh, many royals. I know that Arthur and Lorenzo are going with their wives. So are some of the guys I race with."

You nod. "Alright... It's not my thing, but let's make it fun. I'm sure you'll look wonderful."

He winks. "I can't wait to see you. Anyway, good night, now." He gives you a peck on your lips before you both go off to your beds to sleep.

Apparently, when it comes to balls (you've never attended them really), at least for this kingdom you're going to, the ladies ride to it separately from their men, and when they get there, the servants at that castle fix them all up.

So you ride in a chariot with Lorenzo and Arthur's wives.

They're nice ladies, but you don't necessarily long to be best friends with them.

You're relieved when you finally get there, only to have to be put into a room with more princesses.

Which is not a relief.

They talk about the silliest things.

You suddenly feel very lonely. You miss Charles, despite having seen him just this morning. You think about his shining eyes, fluffy hair, and bright smile that would cheer you up right now. He has much better things to talk about, that you love hearing about. Not the things that these ladies talk about.

You find yourself becoming antsy as your heart aches for Charles.

"Is something wrong?" asks Arthur's wife, who is a doll.

"No. I'm fine. But thank you for asking," you say, faking a smile, as two female servants come to you and start preparing you for the ball.

What stupid traditions.

Charles stands in his ballroom outfit, his hair fixed up, his face clean-shaven, ready to see his princess.

His soon-to-be-bride.

That's an exciting thought.

He feels himself becoming impatient as his foot taps on the smooth floor.

And then, after what seems like much too long, she comes.

And he looks right at her, ignoring all the other princesses around her.

Just stares at her unique, amazing, mesmerizing beauty.

She wears a light pink dress that highlights her curves and body, before puffing out at her waist. It has no sleeves and intricate designs on it. The skirts flow out... Charles breath is stolen away. He stares in awe. The back of it shows her back, and is tied by pink ribbon that ends in a bow. Her makeup is beautiful, sparkling around her striking eyes. Her whole face shines, and the little bit of pink on her cheeks is simply adorable. Her lips are light pink and shining.

And I wish we were married, because then I would bring her into the middle of the floor and kiss those lips like I mean it.

Charles' heart rate quickens at this temptation, and he immediately takes the woman's waist, pulling her to him.

"D- Do you like this...? I don't know if..."

"Oh, sweetheart," breathes the prince, leaning in close, so that their noses are barely an inch apart, "You're... I... I love this. Don't you ever doubt your beauty... You are simply stunning."

"Y- You are too..." you respond, looking into those shining eyes. He's wearing black fitting pants with a black button down sleeveless vest. Under the vest he wear a white shirt with a smaller jabot, with a dark glimmering jewel pinned at his collar. His white sleeves are lose, and in the pocket of his vest is a pocket watch with it's silver chain hanging out and another jewel pinned at the top of the pocket. He takes one of your hands, leaving the other on your waist, and you see that he also has some rings on his fingers. "You look amazing."

He smiles and asks, "Shall we dance, then, my princess?"

"Yes," you laugh softly. "I suppose we shall."

You start out just swaying slowly together, before he gradually starts stepping with you. After a few times of missing a step and nearly tripping (every time he makes sure you don't), you stutter, "S- Sorry I'm not as good at this as you are... I haven't danced much... I learned a long time ago and haven't done it often since..."

But the grace in his eyes calms your anxiety. "It's okay. I don't mind at all."

"Are you sure? Like, it's not very romantic if I keep-"

"Sweetheart, just look into my eyes. Quit looking at your feet and we'll go slow. If you mess up, I've got you. Just look at me, and if you want it to be romantic, it will be romantic."

And so you look up into his eyes as instructed, and let him carry the dance, swaying and stepping, and somehow, soon enough, you fall into his rhythm, getting the hang of it, and your dance together is at peace.

It feels as though all the other bodies around you have disappeared as you look into his eyes and move with him.

"I think I love that."

"Love what?" asks your prince, his thumb moving slightly on your waist.

"Love that nickname."

"Sorry?"

"Sweetheart."

He smiles. "Well, that's what you are."

"It's just pure sweet."

"M-hm. Exactly. Like you," he winks. "Want to know what it is in my language?"

You smile, as this is the first mention between you of his native language, which you're sure must sound beautiful, considering the soothing qualities of his accented voice. Especially when he speaks softly. You love when he speaks softly. "Of course I do."

"Ma chérie," he replies in a whisper, leaning in even closer to you.

"I think I like that a lot too," you say.

He nods. "Either way, both of those things are what you are."

Now that you're comfortable with this dancing, and the music has picked up with the new song, Charles says, "I'm going do something different. Trust me, though. I've got you."

You nod. "Alright..."

He nods, and suddenly spins you away from him, only holding you by your hand, before spinning you back to him. You're laughing, and you gently rest your forehead into his chest as you say, "That was fun."

"What a lovely laugh you have," he compliments.

"You're quite romantic, you know."

"Do you mind it?"

"No."

"Good," he grins, "because I don't intend to stop."

You grin back. "You better not stop."

Then he suddenly twirls you, and you end up again where you were, laughing. "I don't mind dancing."

"Me neither. And your skirts looks beautiful just now, spinning around you."

"It felt beautiful."

"Good. You should feel beautiful, because you are."

The two of you continue dancing, along with the music, and soon he's not guiding you anymore, because you've started to understand. "You're magical," you comment.

And he says, "This is the last song. And I'm going to amaze you, ma chérie."

You feel your heart rate quicken, and you nod. "You better, because now my hopes are up."

And at the height of the song, he twirls you once more, before taking your waist, lifting you up, and, all in rhythm with the beautiful song, puts you down, letting go of you, holding you only by your hand. And then he leans down, taking your waist in his other hand, still holding your hand in his hand, and his lips meet yours.

His lips.

Press against yours.

Not just in a little peck.

In a real, loving kiss.

They're soft and beautiful, and you feel happy, excited feelings well up within you, causing you to accidentally laugh into the kiss. You feel him smile, and he just kisses you longer and more. In that moment, neither of you care what other people will think. You don't care that you're in the middle of the dance floor. You don't care that some people stare in disgust, and others clap.

Because all you care about is each other.

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broomsick · 1 year

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Personal ideas for simple devotional acts to Njörðr

Let us all praise the Lord of Ships, the Vanir King. He is the bestower of wealth and the guardian of seas, and his gifts are many! If you’re looking to start working with Njörðr, or worshipping him, these ideas make for quick and simple gestures that showcase your interest. They’re also perfect for a pagan who already maintains a close relationship with the sea, water spirits, or a sea deity. After all, spiritual practice gets hard to sustain when you’re working on a tight schedule! Which is why I hope these little personal ideas can inspire even those of you who already actively worship/work with Njörðr.

First things first: pondering on what Njörðr stands for, what you think he can bring your life and what you think he would appreciate in return.

Going for walks on windy days. Njörðr is said to raise winds that are favorable to sailboats!

Cooking and eating sea products, especially if you can find them fresh! I usually keep an eye out for fishermen’s markets. It’s a good idea to buy locally if the opportunity presents itself. The most important thing is to make sure you’re buying from sustainable fish farming companies, especially if you’re at a restaurant or buying from a grocery store.

Putting the sound of waves as background music before sleep. You can visualize the sea, or the ocean, and use this image to connect with Njörðr either by simply meditating on him and his gifts, or even by praying to him.

If possible, spending time near bodies of water: water is a network which connects the land to the ocean. In the end, all rivers, no matter how small, are bound to the ocean.

Watching documentaries on the sea, or on marine life! The simple gesture of learning about his domain, developing your understanding of it, can make you feel that much closer to the Father of Light-Bringers.

Whenever you’re at a local beach, collecting seashells or rocks which catch your eye! They’re a way to bring a piece of the sea home with you!

Since I cook a lot, there’s this little habit I’ve come to develop, of adding a pinch of sea salt (or fleur de sel) to every recipe. Of course, I won’t do this if I’m cooking a simple sandwich for myself: I’m talking about large pots of soup, meat pies, stews, etc. It’s a way of reminding myself that the Vanir bring about the fertility which allows us sustain ourselves.

Learning sea shanties!!! Did you smile? That’s because sea shanties are fun, and what better way to honor a God than by having fun in their name! One of my favorite songs ever is a folk ballad about an old woman who begs her husband to leave the city and go back to the island where they used to live, where she could watch the seagulls and where he would fish their dinner. Songs such as these can make for beautiful and deeply personal offerings. Once you’ve learned a fisherman’s song, you’ll find yourself humming it in your day-to-day, and thinking of Njörðr as you’re doing so.

Making offerings of coin to him. I’ve heard that he was particularly fond of the coin-shaped chocolates that are wrapped in gold foil! Generally, anything that is made of gold or silver makes for a beautiful offering to him. You can, of course, keep such objects after offering them! The act of sharing them with Njörðr is symbolic, as are many offerings, and you are as entitled to keeping these valuables as you are to drinking offering alcohol after the ritual is done. Placing your silver/gold object on a windowsill or an altar for a day, a week or a month is enough to act as an offering.

When it comes to the Vanir, you usually can’t go wrong with buying local products! What does your area specialize in, in terms of food? Now that summer’s at our door, we’ve reached the perfect time to look into local farmer’s markets. If, like me, you’re in the habit of offering alcohol to some or most of your deities, local draft beer is a great idea for Njörðr. In my area, grocery shops sometimes sell this one beer that’s made using salt water! It’s my go-to for Njörðr, understandably.

Acting generously, taking opportunities to share with others! It’s a way of honoring and embodying the Vanir King’s own benevolence.

As a follow-up, working on your ability to be compassionate: putting yourself in somebody else’s shoes, forgiving a wrong that has been done to you, finding compromise during a conflict with loved ones... If you are put in a position of leadership, lead others with care and attentiveness. Njörðr’s mythological son Freyr is heavily associated with peace. By protecting peace, you are honoring them both.

Keeping a symbol of his on you as an amulet: representations of fish, anchors, lighthouses, ships, or anything else that symbolizes the sea all make for beautiful reminders of Njörðr’s presence. Especially if they are silver or gold-colored! In fact, a simple silver or gold coin, or even just a coin with special meaning in your heart, is the perfect amulet to keep in your wallet/purse in his honor.

Learning to tie knots, or any other simple skill that is useful on a boat is fun and a great way to feel connected with the sea. This goes without saying but if you’ve got the chance to go for a boat ride, take it in his honor!

Asking him to grant you a safe journey before traveling long distances.

Art, Njörðr statue

#Njordr #Vanir #deity work #deities #norse gods #sea deities #sea witchcraft #paganism #norse paganism #heathenry #polytheism #offerings #devotionals #norse polytheism

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obiwan · 2 years

Note

Hi it's been a while since i had anytime to read fanfics mainly because i was sick and busy with school lol but now i'm doing much better and want to read some obikin. I already know and read and love all the popular ones so i was just wondering if you know some new good ones that u wanna spread love for? say like from the last 3 months? thank you either way! and i wanna say that i love love love your writing!

I've been holding off on this, but combined with *a lot* of other similar messages I've received, I guess I'll bite. (also do you confuse me with someone else because the only writing I do currently is crying about EM in my tags), but anyway without further ado.

Now I don't know what you're looking for, so I have kept it to my personal favourites, some of which are WIPs. You've said you've read all the classics so I won't include those, and I have kept it to mostly the last three months as per your request. Here we go.

✰ (Explicit, WIP, Omega!Obiwan) this land is mine, but i'll let you rule by @travellingcircus

Anakin buys himself an omega-slave to help him run the moisture farm left to him by Cliegg Lars, but Ben is a little more than what he appears to be.

GORGEOUS FIC. I do love EVERYTHING by the author btw - just as a disclaimer, I love their style, I love their characterisation, and this fic is no exception. Give it a try if a/b/o does not squick you out.

✰ (Teen, Completed) a vacationer's guide to being unexpectedly married by @treescape

“A vacation, you need,” Master Yoda had insisted firmly beneath their incredulous stares when they’d first received their instructions. “On a beach, perhaps, hmmm?”

“It is imperative that you restore yourselves,” Master Ti had said gently. “You’ve undertaken so much work in the aftermath of the war that we fear you will only burn yourselves out.”

“Treat it like any other mission,” Master Windu had told them kindly but unflinchingly when both Anakin and Obi-Wan had tried to protest. "You both have your orders.”

Or, Anakin and Obi-Wan go on a Council mandated vacation. While there, they encounter a few surprises.

I adore it when these two idiots can not communicate to save their lives. Although Obi-Wan is holding custody of the shared braincell in this one.

✰ (Explicit, Complete) just like the days we'd burn by @travellingcircus

Modern AU: After an accident derails his racing career, Anakin comes back home to Tatooine.

I'm very much obsessed with slice of life (can this actually be considered slice of life? idk) fics, where it's slightly domestic and suburban, and there's a an air of depression but it's fine because they have each other, like, these fics make me think of Gummo and it's like. I really get transported to another universe - I love this fic so much.

✰ (Explicit, Complete) then she lit up a candle (and she showed me the way) by skywaIker

Alright, so maybe it’s a little weird that Anakin’s favorite part of the month is always when he gets to meet up with his favorite, definitely-not-the-enemy Sith, Darth Sophos.

I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS ONE SHOT, god please, whoever u are, write more. MORE. write 90k of this.

✰ (Explicit, Complete) Igneous by @zimriya

“Are you my birth father?” Leia asks.

Something caves open where Obi-Wan’s heart used to be. “No, I’m not,” he says. “I wish I could say I were.”

One truth; one lie.

STUPIDLY GOOD. Warning: it's not a fix it. But it's really stupidly good, I'm truly obsessed.

✰ (Explicit, Completed) stay til the dawn, i'll give you the sun by @tennessoui

Jedi Anakin Skywalker crashes in a field on the planet Stewjon. Out of respect for the Jedi Order, King Kenobi takes a personal interest in his recovery...especially when they accidentally form a Force bond, scant hours after Kenobi alerts the Jedi Council to Skywalker's presence so they can come retrieve their Jedi.

But if Anakin can't remember who he is, is he really still their Jedi? What's stopping him from being Obi-Wan's?

Especially when, if the amnesiac himself can be believed, it's all he wants.

Just do me a favour and read all of their stuff - like, I can easily rec everything they've ever written, including their tumblr aus. Read it! Read their other fics, a gift to the fandom.

✰ (Explicit, Completed) The way he smiles at you by @himboskywalker

The end of the Clone Wars drags on at a limp with the Chancellor dead,though there are still battles to be won.But with the near end of the war the HoloNet has turned its sights on juicier news and traded rumors,like the supposed torrid and elicit romance between the galaxy's most famous Jedi Knights.

Where Anakin is plagued by galactic tabloids and gossiping clones,Sidious choked on a bagel during the battle of Coruscant,Obi-Wan hasn't had cell service,Order 66 never happens,and nearly everyone gets a happy ending.

I'm obsessed with this fic. There's no other explanation, other than I'm so obsessed with it. So you get it recced.

✰(Explicit, WIP) Blood in the Water by Rwumper

Obi-wan loses the duel against Darth Vader and is captured instead.

OWK Show Episode 6, Canon-Divergence.

Honestly what it says on the tin. Vaderwan, but I really love it.

✰ (Explicit, WIP) My love, are you the devil? by NFx

You didn’t know?

A bead of sweat rolled down his temples, eyebrows knitted together in a grimace. Flashes of another life burst behind his closed eyelids, the sins of his past a smoldering flame that gradually increased into an undying inferno.

He’s alive, Obi-Wan.

Golden eyes pulsating with bitter resentment appeared in his mind’s eye. A serpent that will slowly emerge from the shadows and stalk its prey, its penetrating eyes always on him.

Anakin Skywalker is alive.

Can you tell I'm a bit obsessed with the Vaderwan capture fics. Well. I am who I am ig, I do love a good canon divergence!

✰ (Explicit, Completed) Satellite Mind by @theseptemberist and @intermundia

Some doors, once opened, can never be closed, and some secrets, once learned, can never be forgotten.

or, Five times Obi-Wan heard Anakin’s thoughts, and one time Anakin heard Obi-Wan’s.

I'll die if I don't include this in a fic rec I make. I know there are a lot, a LOT of great fics out there, but this one, speaks to me on such personal levels, I will truly perish if I don't include this in any fic rec post I have. It would feel like betrayal yk?

SO, there you go, I kept it really limited tbh, I read a lot more than this but given that you asked for stuff from the last three months, this is all I have atm! Granted I have been going ~through stuff so I haven't been able read as much as I like, but I hope this satisfies u somewhat. Also genuinely deathly curious about what you mean about my writing bc... do you follow me on twitter or do you have me confused for someone with actual talent sjhgfg. Anyway enjoyyyy ✨✨✨

#anonymous #answered #obikin #fic rec #fanfic

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effloradox · 1 year

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I'm a Fire and I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm (II)

Aemond Targaryen x Dragonrider!Reader

series masterlist | chapter one | AO3

Aemond isn’t stupid, he’s aware of the rumours of the last remaining wild dragons that roam the coast of Westeros. His siblings and cousins used to mock him with their existence, that these great creatures would rather feed on scraps than be bonded to him. He’s heard the furtive whispers of his mother with the Hand about trying to claim more dragons to give them a better chance in the war against the Blacks and he tries not to take it as a slight against him, that his mother would rather get some wild beasts than rely upon him being able to control Vhagar after the brief lapse of control that led to the start of this fucking war.

He’s also heard quieter whispers between the dragon keepers in the pit that there are dragons that have been tamed by those without Valyrian blood coursing through their veins. Those whispers are spoken in High Valyrian so all the common people who frequent the Red Keep or Dragon Pit can’t spread the word but Aemond’s heard it all. Many doubt the existence of such people but he’s heard one of the dragon keepers describe an encounter with one such rider, on the dragon known as Grey Ghost. The keeper said they only saw the dragon once, off the coast near the Riverlands, but they could distinctly see someone riding the creature. It was initially chalked up as a vision, but with the coming war, no chances can be taken. If there is such a person, they need to be found.

It shouldn't be possible for someone not of Old Valyria to be able to claim a dragon; if that's what's going on. A dragon not immediately incinerating someone doesn't necessarily mean it's been tamed though. Even so, when word gets out and the war begins to brew, Aemond isn't surprised when he's approached and given the task to hunt down these imposter dragon riders. It's made clear that if they will not ally with the Greens then they are to be taken care of lest they run to align themselves with the Blacks who already have the advantage when it comes to the number of dragons in their arsenal.

He's not been to the Riverlands a lot in his life, and the rare times he has been it's not impressed him. It's a place where the sun doesn't seem particularly fond of shining and riding on Vhagar above the cloud coverage, he can't help but wonder why someone who can ride a dragon has chosen to make this their home. Surely the warm ports of Dorne were more suited to someone with enough fire within them to ride a dragon. Even with Aemond's less than favourable view of the scorching summers of King's Landing, the marshlands of the Riverlands are less than ideal. It’s too close to the North and it’s frozen terrain. It makes him want to make this journey as short as possible if only to get away from the fact that the air here seems heavier than back home. More imposing. It's why he had the guards start their journey over a week ago, so they'd already be here when he landed. The last thing he needed was to be here with no backup or way to get the rider and dragon back to King's Landing. He gives the command for Vhagar to land, and within seconds the land below comes into view and they're settling on a beach by the coastline.

Going off the information the dragon keepers have given him, this is one of the places where people have claimed to catch sight of a dragon diving into the sea for food. It's not unheard of for smaller dragons to be seen fishing off the coast of Dragonstone, and it makes sense that the wild dragons would have used their ability to dive to maintain themselves and yet Aemond still jumps back when a dragon seems to dive out the sky from nowhere into the ocean further down the coast from where he's landed. He knows instinctively that this is indeed the Grey Ghost, and it is a beautiful dragon if somewhat larger than he expected it to be. Still nowhere near as large as Vhagar but larger than he was told, which means it’s not a young dragon. Vhagar takes an interest in her, but since it’s clear that it’s not a threatening move, she doesn’t react beyond watching Grey Ghost continue diving in various parts of the sea. For that, Aemond is grateful. The last thing he needs is to return to King’s Landing with the news that his dragon has disobeyed him and killed another dragon once again.

There’s a lull in the diving as it seems the wild dragon has had its fill of sea food and it returns to the sky and disappears into the cloud cover. Aemond didn’t spot a rider on its back, and it seems unsettling that it should leave without its rider if it even has one. A seed of doubt plants itself in the back of his mind that they’ve come all this way for nothing, that there is no Grey Lady, and it’s going to be a difficult task trying to catch and tame this wild dragon, even with the dragon keepers.

It’s only when he hears what can only be described as a commotion coming from the other side of the sand dunes he’s stood near that it seems like maybe this wasn't a complete waste of time. In only a few steps, Aemond had climbed the dunes and finally got to see what the fuck was causing all the noise. Or rather, who was causing all the noise. The guards struggling with the strange woman seem to light up when they realise he’s watching them, and in their moment of distraction one almost takes a flailing fist to the face. The guard lurched back and looked almost comically bewildered by the situation before almost visibly coming to his senses and attempting a half-bow to the watching Prince.

“My Prince! We’ve got her! We found her in the village, think she was trying to leave town.” You’re not what he expected. Maybe it’s the fact everyone’s been referring to you as the Grey Lady that he had some sort of ghostly figure cloaked in flimsy fabric, some pale demure woman who would seem entirely out of place on the back of a dragon. Fighting the grip of his guards with a fierce expression on your face and a downright murderous look in your eyes, it’s clear his image of you couldn’t have been further from the truth. There’s a fire in you, it’s obvious to Aemond from the moment he lays his eye on you.

He lets his eye wander over your figure slowly, taking you in, and he takes a certain level of delight in the snarl you direct his way when you notice his wandering eye. Once he’s done with his initial assessment he returns his gaze to your face and finally makes eye contact with you.

“Udrirzi Valyrio ȳdrā?” A brief look of confusion passes over your expression and it quickly becomes clear that you don’t understand his question and thus, by extension, you do not understand High Valyrian. Curious. “You don’t seem like much of a lady.”

“You don’t seem like much of a Prince.” You hold his stare and it seems even more obvious how you tamed a dragon. Where in the realm have you been hiding all this time? The women of court could learn something from you, it would make things far more interesting in the Red Keep.

"Tell me how you came to be in possession of a dragon."

“I’m not.” The way you roll your eyes at him makes him wonder if you lack basic survival skills. Even out in the Riverlands people know to treat royals with respect if they want to keep their head. You're either recklessly brave or incredibly stupid. Maybe both since you ride a dragon.

“Don’t act numb. You reek of dragon. Anyone who’s spent any time around dragons knows their smell, it permeates your very being.” It's a smell he's grown up with after years in the dragon pit surrounded by both dragons and riders, but out here with all the sea air, it's a wonder that no one's picked up on how the smell of smoke seems to follow wherever you move. Out here it would seem more likely that you spent all your free time rolling around a bonfire to make yourself smell like that than being around a dragon.

"I never denied riding a dragon. I denied owning one. I'm not in possession of a dragon, you can't own a creature like that. To believe otherwise makes you a fool." He stands corrected, you're not brave. You're definitely just missing your basic survival skills.

"I could have your tongue for that, insulting a Prince of the Realm."

"Then take it. I'd still be right and you'd be leaving without what you came for." He narrows his eye at you but you hold his gaze without flinching. It’s rare he meets someone who doesn’t react to his eyepatch, and in any other situation Aemond might have described himself as being impressed by you. At the present, he found your unwillingness to answer his questions frustrating.

"You may not be able to control your dragon, but anyone with Valyrian blood can do so. We need to know how you've not been incinerated by this one." The way you look at him takes him back to the way his mother looked at him when he was a child and said something out of turn. He finds it strange that your glare manages to make him feel small even if it's only for a moment.

"It's not control that you have. You only think that because it's what your family have instilled into you. Dragon's aren't controllable. They don't bend to your will." The steel in your voice when you say that makes him think you're saying it from experience, that (like he assumed) you don't have full control over Grey Ghost. He wonders how many people have been a victim to your dragon's temper and whims for you to speak like that.

"You will tell me how you managed to get a dragon to temporarily do your bidding then."

“I can’t tell you information I do not possess.” Aemond makes to step towards you, but the sound of a dragon approaching makes him pause. Seemingly from nowhere, Grey Ghost begins her descent towards the beach, and with a breath of fire, a group of guards are set alight in front of you. Their pained screams and the smell of burning flesh make you feel nauseous but the guards holding onto you loosened their grip upon seeing their comrades burning alive and the momentary distraction allows you to finally break away from them. Fuck staying here and losing your freedom, you’d take dying in the sky with Grey Ghost at the hand of another dragon over a life out of your control.

“Māzigon!” The result of your shout is instantaneous and Grey Ghost immediately drops to the ground, giving you enough time to clamber onto her before she ascends back into the sky, and you disappear into the clouds without turning back. The last thing you hear is the roar of another dragon overpowering the shouts of the guards that are still alive. If the Prince decided to pursue you on dragonback you'd definitely hear him if he's on that creature but for now you want to get as far away from him and his royal lapdogs as humanly possible.

“My Prince, should we not go after her?” Aemond watches the waves in front of himself for a few moments before slightly shaking his head and making his way towards Vhagar. He mutters a few words softly in High Valyrian to her before climbing onto her back and facing the remaining soldiers.

“No, I think we’ve got all we need from her for now. We’ll return to Kings Landing at dawn. The Queen will want to hear about this."

AN: They finally meet! Sorry this took me so long to post, hope it was worth the wait!

Taglist: @rey26 @yor72

#my writing #fic #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #fem!reader

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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A Recipe for Disaster

The Princess Diaries 2 steddie AU no one asked for but that i couldn’t get out of my head!!

On AO3 here

It had taken a lot for Steve to get to where he is.

As a person, not like, “in life”-wise

He was most definitely better off than most, he was about to be King of a whole ass country for fucks sake, but the internal shitstorm he had gone through to become the person he is today...was a lot.

He was 16 going on 17 when his long lost aunt showed back up in his life. News of his birthright hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Queen Joyce Renaldi was his father (Stephan Artur Renaldi II)’s older sister, and became Genovia’s ruler when her father passed away shortly after Steve’s.

She had sat down with him and patiently explained everything to him, that since he was the sole male heir to the throne, the crown’d be his when he turned 18. If he wanted it. That she’d train him in everything he needed to know to get him ready and if she had anything to do with it, he wouldn’t be alone in this. He’d have her to guide him as long as he needed her.

At that point in his life, he had already: lost his dad, learned how much of an ass his father really was (and how much people were glad he was gone), and completely shut down. He used to be the King of his school (ironically) but after his dad died, he dropped the façade and became friends with Robin Buckley, local freak.

It didn’t take long before they were the literal best of friends, joined at the hip and at the braincell, platonic soulmates. She became everything to Steve and even after one bad drug trip, finding out he was a royal (for real), their first fight, and his stupid brain thinking that his old best friend Tommy Hagen wasn’t just flirting with him to capitalize on Steve’s newfound status, but because he actually did like him back only to be caught by paparazzi making out in a boathouse at his school’s beach party…Robin was still there. She was always there for him.

She even decided to pursue her degree in languages at the same college; and not just her own degree, but also took another major in international and public affairs, same as him. Fully intending to stay by his side in Genovia.

Steve loves her so damn much (a fact she says he reminds her of all too often).

Which brings him to today. Graduation day.

Finally, finally, he’d be returning to Genovia. With Robin and their co-parented orange cat named Concrete by his side, he’d finally be returning to the country he loved. That he had loved since first landing there the summer after junior year.

He was looking forward to his 21st birthday coming up in a few weeks, nervous about being completely ‘of age’, and the upcoming coronation, but Aunt Joyce had assured him that he would rule at her side before officially taking over.

“Your highness, Lady Robin, look out the window,” Jim Hopper: head of security, local badass, and great friend and father (to his own kids, and a welcome father-figure to Steve these last 4/5 years), interrupted Steve’s tired thoughts and worries, “Welcome back to Genovia.”

Steve looked up at Hopper, grinning, and turned to the window closest to their seats where Robin was already holding Concrete up by his armpits to look out the window too. Steve loved seeing the palace as they flew over, but now all he saw was two-day old, travel-mussed, blonde hair and the bottom half of a very fat orange cat.

—--

The few weeks leading up to his 21st birthday went by in a flash.

The first couple days were appointments with the Palace’s medical team, introductions to the newer members of the staff that Steve would be seeing around daily, official introductions of Robin (and her official titling as Steve’s Royal Advisor) to the staff, fittings for his attire for the ball (a maroon tuxedo, subtly patterned with branches of the Genovian Pear tree in a slightly darker shade, a golden sunflower yellow bow tie and matching waistcoat, Genovia’s royal sash and medals, and a smaller crown of his grandfathers who, like Steve, was partial to warm tones than to cool ones. This crown looked like if the circular backsplash pattern of a drop of water was cast in gold. The peaks of the crown were each adorned with a ruby, which just barely poked out above Steve’s hair like a halo), and multiple small family dinners, just Steve and his two favorite ladies (Aunt Joyce and Robin) plus Lord Concrete and Joyce’s beloved mutt Maurice. The latter of the two being sworn enemies.

Soon (too soon), it was the night of his ball. Joyce was to enter first with Hopper, and after her speech, would lead the attendees in a toast to Steve as he entered the ballroom. Steve could hear Joyce making her speech though the heavy oak doors, her voice carrying easily though the hall as if the palace itself wanted to send her voice as far as it could.

To top off the pile of anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach, Robin wasn’t with him at the moment. She wasn’t allowed to make the entrance with him, but knowing she’d be just on the other side of the door and down the stairs, gave him little reprieve.

He was pacing between the two doormen on his side of the door, twisting his grandfather’s signet ring worriedly on his left middle finger. The ring was a gift from Joyce for his birthday, said she wanted Steve to have it because “He would have absolutely adored you, Steve. He’d be so proud to see such a handsome, well-rounded young man wear it.” She had his face cupped in her small hands and wiped away his tears with her thumbs when they made their appearance. The ring was too big, big enough for Steve to be constantly worried about losing it right off his finger at the slightest movement. He is already planning on sending it off to be resized, but wanted to have it with him tonight.

Again, too soon, there was no more time to panic as he could hear the announcement of his name coming from the ballroom.

“Presenting, His Royal Highness, Stephan Artur Harrington-Renaldi, Prince of Genovia.”

At the bangs of the announcer’s staff, Steve stepped forward on shaky legs, the double doors opening before him by the ballroom’s doormen just as rehearsed. He dusts off his old “King Steve” mask and smile from his time in high school, puts them on, and walks through the threshold and out to the short balcony created by the twin staircases, beaming at the gathered dignitaries.

“To Prince Steve.” Joyce calls and lifts her glass of champagne.

“To Prince Steve!” The crowd parrots.

Steve lifts his right hand and gives them all a wave, then switches it out for his left, waving a little bit too vigorously toward where he’s spotted Robin who’s grinning at him, looking stunning in the sparkly golden yellow gown she had to almost be wrestled into. He must’ve waved too hard because he feels his grandfather’s ring fly directly off his sweaty hand.

He turns, eyeline chasing the flight path of the ring only to see it land safely in one of the doorman’s grasp.

The elderly man approaches Steve “It happens all the time.” he drops the ring into Steve’s palm and smiles. “And Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you very much.” Steve returns the smile

The titter and giggles from the crowd subdue back into easy chatter as Steve comes down the stairs to his left, and grasps Robin’s hand on his arm as soon as she weaves her arm with his.

“You must be the clumsiest royal to ever grace these halls, Your Royal Dingus.”

“You’re absolutely right, now every important person in the literal world knows it.”

"You are incorrect, Lady Robin,” Joyce calls from behind the two, who turn to face her. “My father was just as clumsy as our Steve, perhaps even more so.” Her smile is polite and loving, but the teasing smile on Hopper’s face betrays exactly what she is thinking.

‘Those two are just as symbiotic as Robin and I, I swear.’ Steve thinks to himself.

“Gee thanks,” Steve rolls his eyes but detaches himself from Robin “Care to be my first dance, Aunt Joyce?”

“I thought you’d never ask, my dear.” She similarly unweaves her arm from Hopper’s and places her palm atop the back of Steve’s downturned one.

Steve leads her to the middle of the ballroom, their guests parting like the red sea in front of them to give an open area to dance. As if they could read their minds, the band starts a classic waltz and Steve leads his Aunt around the outer edge of the circle.

Hopper soon joins them with Robin, and slowly, more and more folks spin themselves into the dance. Steve smiles at Prime Minister Wayne Henderson and his wife Claudia as he and Joyce spin past them, and when the song ends, it’s like the ice has been broken and the party can actually start.

People approach him from all angles to wish him a happy birthday, and make their introductions, including quite a few members of parliament, recognizable by the Genovian Crests pinned to their suits. Robin latches back to his side, they fend off the “Oh, how cute of a couple!” comments as usual, and Robin gets to flex her dignitary muscles. He catches a few excerpts sometimes when she is speaking to foreign dignitaries in their native languages. Steve feels very lucky to have her.

He’s whisked away soon after to start the part(s) of the evening he’s dreading the most. Prince Stephan is expected to dance with all the eligible persons of Royal descent. He starts with Robin first, just to get his nerves out of the way.. Then it’s off to the races.

It’s really like they all just expect him to be only a Prince Charming, He asks many of them questions about their own countries/principalities or their interests and they look at him like they'd rather he just tell them how nice they look.

The only one that doesn’t fit this mold so far, is a woman about his age named Nancy. Her small and petite frame is definitely in that mold of most of the attendees he’s expected to dance with, but she tells Steve immediately about how she’d love to be a journalist if it weren’t for her royal expectations.

“I just love to get down to the bottom of things, you know? I like digging in and finding out anything and everything about a story.”

“That sounds fantastic, I’d love to read some of your work sometime.” Steve smiles at her and is rewarded with a small smile and blush. “Actually,” he continues “Our head of security’s oldest son is a photographer, I’d love to introduce you. His work is really good; I feel like your writing and his photo skills could be a great combination.”

He wasn’t lying either, from the few minutes he’s spent with Nancy, he can tell without a doubt that anything she wrote would be fantastic, and though Jonathan and he have always been kinda weird, his photography is plastered all over the Palace’s media releases and he definitely has talent.

“Really? I would love to meet him.”

“Come on, I need a break from dancing anyhow.” They step apart and he offers his arm to her, which she takes. Steve can easily spot Hopper from across the room, easily a head taller than most.

Hopper greets them as they approach, “Good evening your highness, your highness.” directing their titles to each of them.

“Hi Hop, is Jonathan around today? Nancy here is an aspiring reporter and I’d love to introduce them.”

Hopper smiles warmly down at Nancy, “Ah, is that so! Well it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Madam Nancy, let me radio Jon.”

“Thank you Mr. Hopper.” Nancy beams at him

“Please, your highness, Hopper or Jim is just fine with me.

“Just don’t call him Jimmy.” Steve stage whispers to Nancy, loud enough for Hopper to hear and shake his head at him. “Are Will and Ellie around tonight?”

“Ah yes, they are around here somewhere. I think they and Mr. Henderson have met the young Lord Sinclair, so I’m sure I will have to respond to one of their messes here sooner than later.”

“Your other children?” Nancy asks, genuinely curious.

“Yes ma’am, the wonder twins themselves.” His close-lipped smile makes his mustache scrunch on his face along with causing his well-worn crows feet to make their appearance.

“Whadja need…dad?” Steve hears Jonathan call out then trail off when he catches sight of Steve. “Good evening your highness, happy birthday.” He quickly catches himself and greets Steve with a short bow, “Is there something wrong?”

“Not at all Jonathan, I just wanted to introduce you to Princess Nancy here.” He gestures at Nancy, who’d mostly been hidden from sight behind Steve from where Jonathan had approached. She releases her hold on Steve’s arm and extends her hand for Jonathan to take.

“Many apologies your highness, I didn’t see you there. How do you do?” He takes Nancy’s extended hand and bows with a light kiss to her knuckles. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Steve watches this exchange and immediately the arrow on his brand new internal ‘Nancy’ dial flops from where it was in the “Interested in Nancy” section, to the complete opposite “Get Nancy and Jonathan together at all costs” section.

Nancy’s whole face and neck are blushing a wonderful shade of pink (Steve can even see some dripping down onto her collarbones since the navy blue dress she wears is sleeveless). Steve smirks and is about to cut in to tell Jon all about her, but she gets to it before he can, still eloquent and in command of her words despite her obvious flustered mood.

“I was telling Steve about my wishes to become a journalist and he said your photography work was very good. I am assuming you are on the palace’s public relations team?”

Jonathan still hasn’t let go of Nancy’s hand, and it doesn’t look like he’d like to anytime soon. “Y_yes, I am the lead photographer.. Steve said that?” Jonathan glaces at Steve disbelievingly.

Nancy nods, “He did. I would love to see what you’ve been able to capture so far.” She gestures to the heavy-looking camera around his neck.

“Uhh..” Jonathan looks to Steve worriedly, who quickly mimes standing up straight and offering his arm. “O_of course, I’d love to show you, your highness.” He offers his arm to her and she takes it excitedly.

“Please, just call me Nancy.” she smiles at Jon and his face flushes red.

About an hour later, Steve is starving and starting to get hangry from lack of food. He really doesn’t want to accidentally snap at someone important, so he sneaks over to the corner where his towering birthday cake has been mocking him, picks up one of the tiny serving spoons, and spoons out a mouthful of the cake from behind one of the fondant flowers.

Someone taps him on the shoulder “I saw that.”

Steve looks over, ready to apologize, and has to look down a bit more than he thought. “Uh, it’s my cake.” He tells the younger man. He must be at least 18, he’s definitely not a young kid. Curly light brown hair, slicked backward on the sides, like a fake mullet. “I like your hair dude, very 80s.”

The kid looked embarrassed, “Yeah my mom did it, it’s not what I would have done but I’m not the best at maintaining my curls myself. Our deal is if my mom does my hair, she does all of it. Style and all.”

“It looks really good, I promise, you should tell her thanks.” Steve says, taking another bite of cake.

“Dude.” the kid says incredulously, “Save some for the rest of us.”

“Dude.” Steve parrots back in the same tone “It’s my cake, I can eat as much as I want.” He pauses for a second, and thinks ‘Reel it back in Steve, you don’t even know who this kid is or who this kid’s parents are. Don’t be rude and start a war accidentally.’

“Sorry, I haven’t eaten anything all night and I can feel myself getting hangry. I’m Steve.” Steve switches the small spoon into his left hand and extends his right to the kid

“Yeah, I know who you are, you did make a pretty grand entrance earlier; don’t know if you noticed.” He takes Steve’s hand and gives it a strong (but somewhat clammy) shake. “I’m Dustin Henderson.”

“Ah, so you’re Wayne’s kid.” Steve drops Dustin’s hand.

“No, Claudia’s kid. Wayne is my Step-dad.”

“Oh, sorry...Wait, is that a bad thing?”

“God no, Wayne is the best. Quiet, contemplative, you know he loves you no matter what. And he’s been around as long as I can remember.”

Steve nods along to what Dustin is saying, picking up a second spoon and pulling out another spoonful of cake for Dustin, handing it to him while he’s still talking.

“He even took my Mom’s last name when they got married. He said that he’s the one joining our family, not the other way ‘round.”

Steve has that much more respect for the already well-respected Prime Minister.

“Plus I heard him tell my mom once that his family are a bunch of sleezebags so he’s happy to be rid of his own name anyhow.”

“Wow really? Who’s his family I wonder?”

“Dunno, never asked him and I don’t really want to bring it up if he hates them all, you know?”

“True, true.” Steve agrees. “I like you kid, (“Kid?? I’m only 3 years younger than you!”) I hope to see you around again if I don’t die of boredom talking to all these parliament geezers.”

Dustin grins a big squinty grin at him and extends his hand to Steve again. Steve smiles and shakes his hand, then Dustin puts on a fake, very haughty voice and says “I’ll have my people contact your people.”

Steve throws his head back and bellows out a laugh, “Sounds good man. C’mon, I wanna introduce you to my best friend, Robin. She’s the coolest, I think you guys will like each other.” He pats Dustin on the shoulder, stepping out around the table to lead him across the room where Robin is chatting with Murray and Hopper.

“Oooh, best friend only?” Dustin asks suggestively

“Nuh-uh don’t even go there little man, Steve looks back at the teen, “I am SO not her type and___oh shoot, your..foot” Steve looks up at the person whose foot he just crushed, and his hazel eyes meet chocolate brown. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll survive, your highness.” the man says, standing to his full height, Steve also rises to keep his gaze. “The fault was entirely my own. I apologize.”

The man is just slightly taller than Steve, and has dark brown, almost black, curls. They cascade onto his shoulders, and Steve has the overwhelming urge to reach out and see if they are as soft as they look. Only half of this hair is down, the top half pulled back away from his face.

He is drop-dead gorgeous.

“Are you sure you don’t want to exchange licenses and proof of insurance?”

“No, no, these shoes were a little big anyway, the swelling should help them fit a bit better.” he grins and Steve feels his heart palpitate at the sight.

“Please, excuse me..” He says, stepping back and to the side to squeeze through the crowd.

“Sure.” Steve says, whisper quiet, but dreamboat is already walking away.

As usual, Steve just knows exactly where Robin is, and he turns to meet her gaze (she had already been watching the interaction from her spot across the room).

The two of them mouth “What the fuck?” to each other before Steve’s attention is pulled back to Dustin quietly saying "Holy shit.."

"You saw nothing, that was nothing." Steve points at Dustin accusingly.

Dustin puts his hands up in mock surrender "Okay, okay, that was nothing..."

A couple dances later, Steve finds himself dancing with one little girl that honestly, he’d dance with all night if he could. She’s a sassy little thing, a princess from a neighboring country, who calls herself “Lady Applejack” with all the conviction in the world (Steve thinks her name is really Erica though). She stands on his toes while he spins them in dance like she is trying with all her might to crush the digits below her own into the floor for offending her personally.

When he asks about her interests, she tells him almost reluctantly about her love for Dungeons and Dragons, but insists that she’s NOT a nerd. He’s not sure what Dungeons and Dragons even is, but he has an overwhelming feeling that Dustin actually might. Steve tells her as much, and she looks excited that there may be someone else here to talk to about her game.

Steve feels a tap on his shoulder and when he turns, dreamboat is smiling down at Erica.

“Pardon me, Lady Applejack, may I cut in?”

“I’d be mad if you didn’t.” And with that, Erica nearly wrenched herself from Steve’s grasp, and strutted off, looking for Dustin.

“I would say thank you for saving me, but she’s the best dance partner I’ve had so far.” Steve tells the dreamboat, sliding into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I believe you wholeheartedly, Your Highness.” He chuckles

“Steve. I prefer to be called Steve. And you are…?”

“Eddie. Just.. Eddie.”

Steve laughs “Well, Just Eddie, I’m glad to see that my clumsiness hasn't affected your dancing.” Eddie spins them in a lazy circle, “I’m sorry I stepped on your foot.” he whispers

“You can step on my foot anytime.” Eddie says, a promise.

They had stopped twirling, more or less just swaying back and forth in one spot. Steve was suddenly hyper-aware of how close they had gotten to each other, and how much closer Eddie’s forehead was to his own.

Suddenly, Eddie’s head spun to look at something. It was Dustin.

“It’s Sir Dustin’s turn.” He says to Eddie in that same fake-haughty tone he’d used before.

“You’re quite right, Sir Dustin.” Eddie says, stepping away from Steve and giving Dustin a quick bow.

Steve finds himself missing his closeness when his whole front goes cold in his absence.

“Your highness,” Eddie smolders at him through his lashes with his own bow to Steve, which he returns. And then. He’s gone.

Steve automatically takes Dustin’s hands and starts up the waltz once again, mood soured completely and vaguely aware that Dustin is trying to get his attention.

"Dude. Steve!”

Steve looks down at Dustin, hoping his calm face portrays how pissed he is.

Dustin rolls his eyes, “Look, I know we just met but please just play along here, pretend like you and I both know this is a joke. Laugh or something.”

Now Steve’s just confused.

“With all respect your highness, really and truthfully, love who you love, but the old guys that will end up making decisions for you are not all as cool as Wayne, and would probably have an aneurysm if they think you’re actually making googly eyes at the eligible bachelors here.”

Steve laughs uncomfortably, “Uh, I’m not_”

“You and I both know you were. C’mon man, you know I’m right.”

Steve actually starts laughing at the absurdity of it all. He’s grateful for Dustin, Steve knows he’s right, but he also wants to cry and bury himself in the garden out of embarrassment.

“You’re right, you’re right! Damn it… He was a total dreamboat though, wasn’t he?” Steve waggles his eyebrows at Dustin and laughs again at his disgusted expression.

“Want me to save you, little man?” This time, it’s Robin who cuts in, moving to take her turn as Steve’s dance partner.

“Ugh. Please.” Steve lets Dustin go. “Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.” he says as he walks away, waving at Steve and Robin over his shoulder.

“Tell me everything right now or I swear to god I will throw your shoes into the fountain.” Robin demands as soon as they start spinning.

“You saw how hot he was! And literally so smooth..”

“What was with the kid?”

“I was mooning over Eddie.”

“Oh, his name is Eddie huh?” She grins at him slyly “And what about it?”

“Dustin, rightfully, pointed out that the peanut gallery wouldn’t be too keen on me dancing with all the hotties in the room, not just the lady-type ones. He cut in to cover for me.”

Robin winced in understanding “Oof.. yeah I should’ve caught that too, honestly.”

"Yeah, me too.”

After this leg of the Prince Stephan World Waltzing Tour, Prime Minister Henderson tells Steve once again that “There’s a member of Parliament you should meet.” and heads off to go grab said member’s attention before Steve follows. Murray, Joyce’s #1 and palace scheduling wizard, passes by and Steve stops him with an uncomfortable “Murray, how many more members of parliament are there?”

“Only six left, sir. You’ve got it this.” He claps his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

‘Oh. That’s not too bad,’ Steve shrugs to himself as he and Murray part ways. Someone calls his name from behind him and when he turns toward the voice, he feels a tug at his hair and a weight sliding from his head at the same time.

Whirling around, Steve’s hand flies to his head to try and catch the crown before it falls completely off, but is met with the faces of a very apologetic waiter and a very cold-looking member of parliament who had already saved the priceless item from hitting the floor. The waiter whose tray had knocked the crown off his head is apologizing profusely, and the other man is making what Steve thinks is a very rude shoo-ing motion towards them.

He focuses his attention on the gangly looking waiter. “I am so sorry, It was only an accident!”

“No, No, it’s perfectly fine I promise. I am all good, no harm no foul.” Steve smiles genuinely at them.

The waiter clasps his hands together and smiles gratefully before turning and rushing from the room. ‘I’ll have to make sure he’s not fired for this, that’d be shitty.’ Steve thinks to himself.

“Thank you for catching that.” Steve tells the cold-mannered man, crouching down a bit so he can place the crown back on his head.

“You should be more careful, your Royal Highness.” He tells Steve, fixing the headpiece into position, “someone may try to take that from you.”

“I sure hope not,” Steve says with an awkward laugh, lightly touching his head “thank you for all your help!” and turns back to Prime Minister Henderson, intending on asking who the cold-mannered man was.

Pt. 2 here!

Tagging the couple folks that showed interest on my original post, hope you don’t mind! @totallybitchin, @potentialheartofdarkness, @steddieasitgoes, @princessstevemunson

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akiizayoi4869 · 1 year

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Master Meta post (updating)

The Last Agni Kai

Azula's family does indeed owe her

Zuko at age 13 vs Azula at age 14

Azula fanfics that make her stand trial for war crimes

The most tragic character of the show is Aang, not Zuko

If Kuvira can be redeemed, so can Azula

The dumb letter in The Search

Zuko did not realize that Azula was abused

Zuko only asks Azula what's wrong with her one time in The Search

On the topic of Azula, Ozai, and Abuse

Zuko and Ozai in The Promise

The Search: a story about abuse, abuse apologism, and ableism

Smoke and Shadow: "Trust is for fools! Fear is the only reliable way!" On steroids

Stealing food: Suki Alone vs Smoke and Shadow

Comics! Zuko and Comics! Ursa don't care about Azula

Azula brought Zuko home with her because it's what Ursa would have wanted

Azula redemption circle jerk

Azula and Zuko in the Crystal Catacombs

Azula and Zuko in the first half of Book 3

Azula and Zuko headcanon

Zuko's fever dream

Ursa and Azula: "What is wrong with that child?"

Azula and Ursa: A complicated mother daughter relationship

Commentary from The Search and Smoke and Shadow

The Search commentary

Aang killing Ozai dies send a powerful message

"Azula should be blamed for everything wrong in Zuko's life"

Azula did not think that Zuko would join her in Ba Sing Se

Jet had every right to be suspicious of Zuko and Iroh

My thoughts on Uncle Iroh

Zuko and Mai in Nightmares and Daydreams

Mai and Zuko in The Beach

The Family Portrait

"I just asked if you were cold, not for your whole life story."

Aang hate in fandom

Azula in Nightmares and Daydreams

Who cares if Azula did bad things? She's not real.

Why Azula killing Aang does not mean that she is evil and irredeemable

The Invasion Plan

Zuko and Jin's date

Zuko apologizing to Iroh

Why Zuko's arc falls flat for me

Most horrific Mai and Ty Lee take I've ever heard

Zuko doesn't know what's wrong with Azula in The Search

"She was right, of course, but it still hurt."

Azula did not hold power over Zuko

The bedroom scene

Aang when Appa gets stolen

Zuko needs to forgive Azula in order to move on and let go of the anger and resentment that he has towards her

The Infamous Smirk

The Southern Air Temple

Azula is not irredeemable

Zuko's redemption arc deserved better writing

Unpopular opinion: Aang understood Katara's pain better than Zuko did

Azula in The Storm flashback

King Bumi

Original cover art for The Search

Zuko and Azula both get undeserved hate

Why doesn't Zuko's crew know about his scar

Azula is not a feral animal or a bumbling crazy person

Azula was abused in the asylum

Book 3 should not have been the last season

Azula saying "I am about to celebrate becoming an only child!" to Zuko is not abuse

Little Azula eating mochi

Gene Yang's favorite panel in The Search

Yang forgot all of the bad things Zuko did when he wrote the comics

Azula and the doll

Azula and the sandcastle

Azula in the spirit temple

"I think we should take they're precious hope, and they're land, and burn it all to the ground"

Azula and the mirror scene

Iroh not wanting to fight Ozai

Azula calling Zuko "Zuzu" is not abusive

"Dad's going to kill you."

Tumblr ask: "Why do you think that so much of the ATLA fandom just violently hates Aang?"

Tumblr ask: The WORST Azula take ever(probably)

The Fire Nation and genocide

New(?) Unpopular Takes

Tumblr ask: Would you mind explaining the mirror scene?

Azula is not an irredeemable spawn of Satan

Part 2 of Azula is not an irredeemable spawn of Satan

Azula and war crimes list from villains wiki

Ghost Azula AU idea

Why the theory that Azula brought Zuko home to use him as a scapegoat makes no sense

Azula defeated herself before her agni kai with Zuko happened

Kya and the Southern Raiders

Iroh encouraging the toxic sibling rivalry between Zuko and Azula

Suki Alone

Sokka's trauma

Zuko was a willing participant in the sibling rivalry between him and Azula

Iroh never told Zuko what the "correct way" was

Azula sketch

Stop downplaying Sokka

Azula the mochi thief: wanted dead or alive

DOBS Kataang kiss

Tumblr ask: Azula slept her way to the top🤮

Sokka training the children of the Southern Water Tribe

Azula and Zuko in the Lost Adventures comics

Azula did not force Mai to join her in Omashu

Atla fandumb thinks that Azula should not have told Ursa what she overheard that night

#atla #my metas #azula

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gorillaxyz · 13 days

Text

while scowering old accounts i found this... feel free to do it yourselves! its like 20 years old i think YEAH the post i got it from is 20 years old

Name: Pippa

Sex: female

Age: 17

Screen name: screamgender/screamgenders/gorillaxyz

Meaning: i love the movie scream... and the band gorillaz

Status: single

Pets: 2 lovely cats and a dog

Writing Hand: right

BODY ILLS AND SKILLS...

Nervous Habits: running hands through my hair, picking at my skin, cracking knuckles and fingers

Do you bite your nails? when i was a kid i did it so much but not really anymore...

Can you raise one eyebrow at a time? NO but i practice all the time

Can you blow smoke rings? nah

Can you blow spit bubbles? i think so

Can you flare your nostrils? not on command -_-

Can you cross your eyes? yes

Tattoos? not yet

Piercings? ive had my ears pierced twice but only bc the first holes healed

Do you make your bed daily? hell no lol

CLOTHES...

What goes on first, underwear or socks? underwear obviously...

Which shoe goes on first? whichever i find first

What jewelry do you wear 24/7? NONE sadly... i used to wear a cross all the time but its annoying taking it off and putting it back on for showers n stuff...

What's sexiest on a person? ummmmmmmmmm -_- good sense of humour i think

Favorite Piece of Clothing: my phase 3 shirt with murdoc looking like hes trying to lick my armpit

Pajamas: usually none... im an underwear warrior

FOOD

Have you ever eaten Spam? NEVER HAVE NEVER WILL.

Favorite Ice Cream? vanilla or raspberry ripple

How many cereals in your cabinet? a few different kinds but i hardly everrrr eat any myself

What utensils do you use to eat pizza? my hands ..

GROOMING...

How often do you brush your teeth? twice a day

How often do you shower/bathe? depends, but usually every other day

How long does your shower last? 15-30 minutes. it depends

Hair drying method? errmmmm... towel if i remember to before putting it in the washing basket. but usually just air

If that fountain of youth existed, would you drink it? probably

Do you swear? more than id like to

Do you ever spit? when im brushing my teeth yeah? lol

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE...

Animal: CATS AND MEERKATS theyre adorable.

Food: ice cream

Month: june.. summer... murdocs birthday... it is the BEST month

Day: i like saturdays and wednesdays. but date... prob 22/10

Cartoon: i like disney cartoons :)

Flower: big daffodil fan

Shoe Brand: thog dont caare

Subject in school: DRAMA

Color: purple

TV show: prob im alan partridge...

Movie: the lion king & spider-man 2

Holiday: CHRISTMAS!!!!!!

Book: the invisible man

Vacationing Spot: THE BEACH!!!!!!

TV Station: Comedy Central and Cartoon Network

IN AND AROUND...

The CD Player: NONE ANYMORE :(

Person you talk most on the phone with: prob my sister i dont really phone anyone

Do you regularly check yourself out in store windows and mirrors? YES all the fucking time

What color is your bedroom? light lavenderish grey

Do you use an alarm clock? yes... sadly....

Name one thing you are obsessed with: murdoc niccals

Have you ever skinny-dipped with the opposite sex? no lol

Ever sunbathed nude? no............

Window seat or aisle? Window... but i always let whoever im sat with have the window seat if they want it bc im chivalrous like that

LA LA LAND...

What's your favorite sleeping position? curled up in a ball under the covers

What kind of bed do you like? THE BIGGER THE BETTER

Do you sleepwalk? i did once years ago

Do you sleep with a stuffed animals? yeah

WHICH IS BETTER...

Coke or Pepsi? coke

Apples or Oranges? apples

One pillow or two? two

Deaf or blind? deaf

pool or hot tub? POOL

Blondes or brunettes? brunettes

TV or radio? TV

Tic-Tacs or Certs? tictacs... never heard of certs

Snooze button or jump out of bed? snooze usually but i jump oput sometimes

Sunrise or Sunset? Sunset

Hamburger or Cheeseburger? cheese burga

Morning or night? night

Indoors or outdoors? outdoors

Christmas Eve or Christmas Day? christmas day

Cake or ice cream? ice cream

Bert or Ernie? bert

Spicy or Mild? spicy

Spearmint or Peppermint? NEITHER

Call or Write? call

Peanut Butter or Jelly? jam.

Bath or shower? Shower... only bc easier... sigh

Book or Movie? book

Green or Red apples? red

Rain or Snow? snow

#txt #me

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libidomechanica · 14 days

Text

“They were a good notes; and yet more, for who can tell”

To kill; but I know where away down; call no more,—her sweeter than those who have it not euill that small pale body answer’d; fool; who threw a rueful glance, tossing the present vouches for who’s to Love as fire to work&weep. For if my pure

as a pearl, lying on the dews on quenchless tribes: and the roofs. Forget the Laocoon’s and every lucky blunders no less imperious passions will I see you could employ, like the same fumes are trances and lose their heart, that stuck on

a heaven and adore thee, like the cops. Then unconfinèd wings of Pegasus seems they bring the winds which of The Shah, that all these finger, but in the passion drew cloud, sweet, he always signe of dressing ayme do guesse. By nature risen

from his own weight. Call no more, you know, is a thing is mocked at! Put up your songs were many— still her then the sand at once; and yet, as upon a pillars? But after battle, small, but of love; but what thy owne worth’s unknown thing in holes,

as he sate by the charm or hope I what I need not in my Love, foolish fires do stray; your courtly nor kind sea-caves! That Colin sing. Where Homer’s spring hast luld me of his race. Enough to look her view, by cold neglect is hastening,

as those wild instinct like frosty rime, that inward fate proposed blisse, and in two. Flame of the trains. Is light, some beauty should by time deceased loves nothing person to scare the old woman in our chronicle of design! Himself o’ermaster’d

by her glance, tossing the lap of the work of ages on recording of life’s thorny path o’ care. To pass their native land. It made for heavenly thinking off the balance ourselves about her large dark eyes were wont to make an

Eve, be the deep; where great in some one else. And brilliance—and the beach the morn; in every Christ toil up and swimming in wet skin on flat, cool old sworder, took the bleeding flash’d through wind and eye, and afternoon where Laura lay, within his

father’s blood that brought it best to kill; but I’ll pluck you a wreath of chosen ones; we’ll have been greater woe: the river damm’d from ours, where the stars were once more gem to enrich her sire: On me, ’ she cries, on! A glory which the ministering

and one way yet, may pause the rising and dauncing, didst mould my Heart. These are the dark, in the sea, the lake doth glittering, windpipe-slitting vpon a hill so hye, hey ho the arcades, among the manure of her. And then with her sire’s

arm, which touch was their carrion, just as Sol’s heat is quench the kids had never came from your mouth made a pause. The night, with false New England for the way, ’ laughed the greenest laurels sprung from out that all its thoughts arise, when two people take

exception than Buonaparte’s cancer: could prepare to break. Are cool, like a better under the kings of Them it could be the mail, lets fall the Courtesies of the head, so glad it has not said all, to one ever done for payne, and

failed to stare a moment merry, a novel word in my License and it always promise there’s no such Liberty. What a trophy used, and tender as dew, impetuous as rain, to take a lodging is, the blossom.—An’ Charlie,

he’s my darling, the young troop, and canst though modest, on his unembarrass’d brow nature’s range, nothing but then, much good poem,—for both sides I could give invent he robs thee their web away, as some gaiety and grind, and triumphant, and

fynd no party, juan replied, Not while thou dost break in your body takes cakes? Fearing late a fable and stern as her eares were wet, and cheek the blossoms are over; still and crow flock o’er their path, lying coiled atop the game, when down

swung the fools of time beneath that severely wounded; yet could not do t ye, gentlemen. With sweets that bird? Of several ribands, and haggard with other like a dancer! To feele no woe, when a’ was done. I dreamed the fatal

knife, deep question is—that inward eye which to choose, and the new-blooming visage wore, hey ho the heart nectar-brimmed. Our heart have known, your brain went down by my side my ministerial trade. Who spat&called me. Which few men’s limbs in like sunny

gems on any Younger Lover. At the prosperous House; a Road of Mire where the stirring of Empire, never hear my sisterhood: for her eyes? White should be the fruit of love; the fire burst forth from her hand did raised for the

fluorescent be unreturn’d. They were a good notes; and yet more, for who can tell! By turning here holding a Staircases, hallways—perhaps the earth until the meadow sky, the young heart, and carcasses that sad inexplicable touch.

I call him a cheat; for who’s song; love was back. She sends me a choice of the rag of her Beauty lay. Now was young herald knelt before, there shoulder bore her head, half full—already paid our dues. And no wind blows upon his dear, were gone!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #172 texts #ballad

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christinapotter09 · 2 years

Text

first and last reaction to episode 10 and daemyra because HBO simply loves to butcher characters

first of all, thanks for the leak and ruining the weekend

I refuse to accept that this was the final episode, if this indeed is the final cut of it.... the cutting of the scenes was funny, just so many things shoved up before our eyes and so many ooc interactions and things happening like... chill out you can make it 1hr+.... why stumble upon it?

to the characters, Daemon Targaryen is a piece of shit, we all know that, he’s been angry and cruel and plain awful in many cases, lets be honest BUT he had one redeeming quality, his love for Rhaenyra Targaryen, he has been through some serious shit like exiling himself to Pentos to try and get over her and when he came back he realised there was no way around his heart’s desire, he stood for his niece/wife and struck down anyone who dared insult her. Married her in the tradition of his house just like he had asked to do that decade ago.

I do not accept that the same man would be calling Laena “My brave girl” during her torturous labour but when it comes to Rhaenyra starting being in pain he would remain without even a reflex towards her, when she’d be screaming his name, he’d continue to mumble around with lords and generals to a point where a knight would ask him if he should talk with the maester.... and while she’d been birthing on the floor he would finally go and check on her later on.... or that he would leave her alone to wrap their baby dragon on her own while still bleeding and he’d go to the beach (no matter the cut scene from there too which we got in the trailer but not in the episode)

he crowned her congratulations and then he decided to choke her while he wasn’t even understanding the magnitude of what Rhae was saying and how it worked? he’s short tempered, not stupid, he’s going singing valyrian lullabies to Vermithor, he would stay and listen to something important involving Aegon the Conqueror.... she’s shocked and whimpering and he still held on, even tightened his hand around her neck before shaking and freeing her....? and why? because he’s sad/stressed/angry/frustrated? No, the Daemon who was cupping her belly two episodes ago, leading the family to King’s Landing because “What choice do I have?” and he wanted to give her all the choices.... he would never lay a finger against Rhaenyra hours after her horrendous ordeal with Visenya (btw Visenya who? we didn’t even get the name of the poor babe) especially after having lost Laena the way he did.

the biggest thing is that this is not Daemon’s fault but the showrunners/writers’

I AM DONE with inconsistent writing and portrayal, I’m certainly done with character assassination, they cut down his scenes with his daughters and now they cut at least 4 scenes showing him and Rhaenyra interacting after what happened to them.

a massive blow to this shitshow was the change of Aemond’s crime. turning it into an accident is the biggest shit decision they could make. Aemond loses agency (just like Rhaenyra herself because yes I guess you don’t want her locco Dany 2.0 but that doesn’t mean she has to be a frozen person who simply takes the blows and values the song of Ice and Fire less than the fucking page from that book Alicent sent with the fucker she has for father) so it was Vhagar who didn’t listen to Aemond? BECAUSE ARAX GOT SCARED AND PROVOKED HER WITH FIRE?

Blood and Cheese will taste completely different and I don’t care what is happening with AemondxHaelena about it, Luke deserved better, so did Aemond’s storyline, the battle at the Riverlands will be completely different, the battle above God’s eye too..... I wonder if Sunfire will also kill Rhaenyra by accident, not listening to poor little Aegon who tried to save his sweet sister? UUUUGH

for the love of the Gods, let the fucking characters have their agency, their crimes and black moments without loading only Daemon with all the evils of the world just because you can’t deal with a plotline from start to finish and above all even if you want to fuck the characters WRITE IT BETTER AND GIVE IT TIME

THIS IS GAME OF THRONES SEASON 8 ALL OVER, we accepted the time skips, we accepted the dark battle of the dawn like shit, we accepted stupid Alicent fully knowing what would happen to Harwin, Rhae and her kids if she got her way proving them bastards to Viserys and then she played shocked when Otto had been planning to kill Rhaenyra the moment Viserys was dead.... We accepted the way you want to tell the story but HBO, this is the same audience with GoT but not with the same patience

Daemyra was beautiful but I don’t know how it can survive after tonight, frankly, why would it?

fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me

thank you, HBO for fucking up with this so I can keep my spine straight before SNOW and the shit that is gonna hit that fan, I say this wholeheartedly, you better not involve my darling Sophie/Sansa into that because you clearly don’t deserve the people’s good graces and our love for the universe, GRRM has straight up abandoned the books and you can’t possibly deliver a fucking justified result from the source material

I am done with canon once again

#hotd spoilers #house of the dragon #hbo #daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra

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squares-the-cosmosrectangle · 7 months

Text

Time for a Fanfic Game.

I’mma make a poll for which one of my Fanfics is your favorite! Whichever one wins I’ll draw fan-art for! This is a week long poll, have fun! Under the poll will be the summaries of each fanfiction!

Not required at all by any means, but you can also tell me what all you liked about them!

(These also have links to the fanfic if you’d like to read any of them! Just click the “Keep reading”!)

Catalyst of Disorder

Uncompleted, still being updated. 23 chapters & 54k words. Long ago, the goddess who watches fun created a being to watch order. The duo were siblings, they bonded over their duties and issues the Watcher of Order had to deal with. Over the course of a nine hundred ninety nine years, they watched together — until the Watcher of Fun started obsessing over bonds between two worlds. The Watcher of Order wasn’t happy, he sought to correct it and make his sister happy around him again. He succeeded, but it wasn’t how he intended. Due to this the Watcher of Fun decided it was better if he got babysat by the Tetris King, it’ll teach her little brother to be less clingy to her. A year before the present time is when our story starts, the Watcher of Order and his new babysitter — the Tetris King — now have to bond together and learn about the others past. They’ll meet a dangerous foe and all they know will be changed forever.

Lost to the Rift

Completed. 4 chapters & 12k words In the land of Tetrimina, a rift to a dimension of blobs caused mysteries to come fourth for five years. However, a couple — who met when the rift formed — decided to start a family. However when the rift closed suddenly, the couple finds themselves in a situation that ultimately breaks their family apart. Their child, Tee, will find a way to be a person again, he’ll learn to cope with his differences and his missing parents he doesn’t know. And maybe, he’ll see them again one day.

Time Rifted Twins

Uncompleted, still being updated. 1 chapter & 3k words The telepathically bonded Jay and Elle, who truly are they? And where did they originate from? Questions many don’t know the answers too, but, One person knows more than others do A person by the title as Keeper of Order The telepathic twins, and the Keeper of what’s Right They met within a tragic accident and bond The only friend the Keeper had, and certainly, the first the twins had too What is their ending? How do they join the Starship Tetra?

Baking Together

Completed. 1 chapter & 832 words Marle, Māru, and Squares decide to bake together after Squares wakes up to the smell of them baking. They make cookies for themselves and some for Squares to give to someone he knows from Tetrimina. They love doing things together as a family, a gentle hug for Squares hard work is deserved.

Beaches of Tetrimina

Completed. 1 chapter & 972 words The Tetra Crew visit the beach, and they bring Squares along too. It’s the Keeper of Order’s first day at the beach, so he’s nervous to say the least. Tee & Squares’ play together

#puyo puyo tetris 2 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #puyo puyo fanfic #tumblr polls #poll time #fanfic poll #poll #my polls #i love polls #lol

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my-lost-darling · 9 months

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To Be Continued (The Darlings}

The Darlings say goodbye.

Set: August 16

@the-dashing-darling @among-the-lostboys @lost-girl-at-sea @darling-lost-boy

Prior Reading:

The Next Adventure (Jane, Danny & Wendy} Truly all the goodbye threads

WENDY:

Wendy couldn’t pull her eyes away from her brothers. Drinking in every second of their presence, sure she had the photos that she would look at all the time but that would never make up for the time she would lose with them.

Even now she didn’t want to let go of Michael’s hand because she was holding onto him like she was the younger sister.

She didn’t want to say goodbye, she didn’t want the day to end, though the setting sun was telling her their time was running short anyway.

But she looked at Jane and Danny, one of them needed to start. Wendy couldn’t say goodbye, not yet she needed as much time as possible.

MICHAEL:

He couldn’t believe it was really time. It was a bit like when he was a kid, y’know, and you’d been waiting for a trip to the beach for so long that each and every day went excruciatingly slow, and then suddenly all at once– it was here, the day. Not that Michael had looked forward to Elfhame. But maybe, through his will alone, through his blessing, he’d slowed down time enough to enjoy almost all of summer. And now here it was, all blistering and sunset, summer almost all done. And it was time to go.

It was so surreal. It couldn’t be true. But there was the gate, and here was his family. Everyone looked so somber - so nervous. Michael felt that worry in his own heart too.

But Michael didn’t wanna be just another frowning face. And so he was the first to smile gently, giving Wendy’s hand a squeeze as he let it go so he could turn to everyone else.

“Well, looks like the train’s here,” Michael joked, not really sure what else to say. “So ah– well–” his eyes circled round. “I guess we ought to go, sooner rather than later. Right, John?”

John nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Michael nodded, firmer. “Okay then. Well–” and he spread his arms wide. “Let’s get the hugs in then, hm? Janey, you first,” he teased Jane and went straight for her.

JANE:

Jane didn’t say anything. She just hugged Michael, meeting him halfway. She wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed him tight. She was glad that her face was basically in the square of his chest, because she didn’t want him to see her cry.

Jane was not a teary person. Her sadness usually solidified in her chest and hardened into anger, or some other easier emotion.

But now she couldn’t think of anyone to be angry at, except for herself, and she was too old and too tired and had lost too much to feel that.

So sadness it was. She let it.

Michael, though, was smiling. He was making jokes, like he was just about to go on some big press tour or off to another race. He was trying to make them all feel better, one last parting gift. And Jane did her best to accept it. She knew what it was like, after all; she’d just never been as good at making people feel better as Michael.

She pulled away, looking up at him and did her best to smile too. Michael wasn’t the little boy she remembered, following her and John around the park. He was going to be alright. Jane knew it. She had to believe it, at least.

“You’ll be a marvelous king. Prince. Whatever it is,” said Jane. She gave him a pat on the shoulder.

MICHAEL:

Michael smiled right back.

He wasn’t really sure if he believed Jane. He didn’t know what being a king, or prince, or whatever it was, really entailed. He was going to a foreign land with customs and traditions and a culture he knew nothing about. Mostly, he was going to spend a lot of time asking questions and feeling a fool, he was certain.

But then, he’d always admired Jane for her confidence and determination. Right now, he believed that maybe she’d be right. No– she was going to be right. Because Jane wouldn’t just say somethin’ like that to say it, y’know? That wasn’t the way that she was. He’d think about this moment then, later, when he needed to feel a little of that confidence and determination. That’s what Jane could give him. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m gonna do my best, that’s for sure. And hey– you have fun out there, eh? Exploring the world. Take care of Wendy,” he said, in a quieter voice, though his smile didn’t falter.

Then, after one last hug, he pulled away and turned to… ah.

Danny. His smile faltered here, if only because he felt that he was failing his cousin, in some ways. Leaving him behind. But then, Dan was lucky to be escaping all this, wasn’t he?

“Hey, mate,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “You ah– excited for your trip? You’re gonna have to take lots of pictures and send me drawings and all kinds of things like that.”

DANNY:Unlike many other times when Danny stood around his family, watching them cry or fight or plot, he didn’t feel…out of place this time. He didn’t feel like he was intruding on something that wasn’t his. This was his family and this was his life. It was magical, not because of the fae, but because his family was brilliant and wonderful and unique. For so long, he had wanted so desperately to be a part of it, only to get to Swynlake and realize that he already was.

That was what made it hard to say goodbye. He had defined himself by these relationships. He was a Darling, before he was anything else. But who was Danny Darling without Wendy Darling? Without John Darling? Jane Darling? Michael Darling?

He didn’t know anymore. That person didn’t exist.

That Danny was going to have to be created. Woven from new strands. Not without John and Michael but in their absence, at least. He didn’t want to have to change without John and Michael, but that wasn’t a choice when you loved someone.

Despite this newfound sense of belonging, Danny still watched everything quietly, uncertain about how to feel. He was angry and sad and nervous. And he certainly wasn’t good at goodbyes. He’d never, really, had to say them. His father had died far away. Jane had left. Wendy was kidnapped before Danny was born. John had vanished before Danny even really knew him.

Look at Michael now, his face was already a blur with Danny’s tears. He felt like a little kid, suddenly so young and small, even though he and Michael were basically the same height. Michael was taking all of this on the cuff and Danny just wanted to cry.

All he could do was nod. And wish he was braver. The kind of brave that let you say goodbye without blubbering and making the person who left feel bad.

Stepping forwards, he wrapped his arms around Michael, squeezing him tight. Danny had never really thought about what it might be like to have a brother, he was used to the solitude, even with a sister, but now–he thought he kind of knew what it was like and he didn’t want to let it go.

Eventually, he forced himself to sniffle and step back. “We’ll take care of each other,” he finally managed. “You take care of each other too. And–and we’ll see each other soon.”

JOHN:

John was of two minds: make this evening last a lifetime, or rip it off, and disappear. The funny thing was John had gotten used to good-byes. George was always off on this or that business trip. He’d lost Wendy when he was eight. And he’d sent Michael away as soon as he could, turning their relationship into one of phone tag and texts and constant good-byes as Michael skipped from one timezone to the next. At some point, he’d grown rather numb to good-byes then. Good-byes were just part of life’s punctuation, as if to say, well, onto the next thing.

But here he was, standing, gritting his teeth, feeling insanely guilty and on the verge of tears himself. The good-byes he’d yet to say burned inside him. He did not want to. It felt easier to simply say he was sorry instead.

But no one wanted to hear John’s apologies, least of all John himself.

He stepped forward then, putting a hand on Michael’s shoulder briefly when he pulled away from his younger cousin. John met Danny’s eyes as well, and felt shy, and regretful, knowing that he’d never gotten to know Danny as well as he should’ve. In a way, he felt like he was being very selfish, like Danny needed Michael more, and yet here John was, exercising his big brother rights.

“We will,” he agreed. “And um– I– I do promise… that I’ll take good care of him. And I’ll write often, all about the Fenlands, and how things are going. Maybe– maybe you could even use some of it for your art. If you wanted,” he said to Danny.

DANNY:Danny’s eyes flicked to John—half hidden behind his shirt sleeve as he wiped at his cheeks, feeling silly and young, looking at his older cousin. Who was still a mystery to him, but who also felt the most like him in some ways. Quiet and scholarly.

He nodded at John, his eyes welling up with tears again, but he pushed them down and away with a swallow.

“Yeah,” Danny said. “Hey, maybe one day we can even co-publish. The first Elfhame-English picture book.”

It was a joke, more than anything, he figured his cousins would be too busy and too important to waste time on something like that. But, if that was the case, Danny would just do it for the both of them.

He smiled, and then, before he lost his courage, he stepped up and hugged John briefly. Just one tight, quick squeeze before letting him go and stepping back.

JOHN:

It was a joke, but it was a very kind and sweet one. When John laughed lightly, it was not because the idea was ridiculous, but because he liked it very much. He never thought himself very creative, really. His talents were all in the esoteric realm of critical theory– very silly and embarrassing in the grand scheme of things, because nothing John ever wrote would touch someone the way that a comic or picturebook could. He had long envied his cousin for his skill in art because of that.

And so it was a wonderful thing to think, that maybe, with a little help from his family, John might actually make something worth reading– just for fun. “I’d like that, eh? I’ll need something to work on over there,” said John, his voice still light, but he could hope that this joke might become something more– a dream, perhaps. A dream that could come true.

Then he stepped away from his youngest cousin and his eyes found Jane. Ah, Jane. His gaze softened. He had no idea what to say to her. He was going to miss his first mate so much.

“Well,” he said. “Off to see the world then, are we?”

JANE:

Jane had been dreading this moment

The whole thing, really, but this specific moment the most of it all. She looked up at John and she didn't know what to tell him.

It was John she’d known the best in the end, yeah? No use sugarcoating it. Wendy had been a stranger, not even her real cousin till recently. Michael and Danny too young. But John? John was barely a year older than her. She clung to him when they were younger, since they both preferred their books to people, both wanted to stomp in the yard and play pretend every summer.

The whole reason she'd come to Swynlake was because John had been here first. It had started with Jane and John.

And it was ending, here, with them.

These past five years they'd learned to be friends, not just cousins. They'd learned to live with each other's infuriating habits. They bickered about tea. They fought over bigger things, too, but usually about tea. Jane lost him once. She tore through everything to bring him back. And here he was, stepping back into Elfhame, away from her. Well, away from everyone, but also her.

“It'll be a grand adventure,” she said, trying to keep things light. But her voice wobbled, and even though she told herself she was going to be strong about this and she was going to keep it together for Danny and for Michael and for Wendy, for everyone who needed her to be the brave, stalwart, and resilient Jane Darling, she felt something n the back of her throat crack. She felt something in her eye. She felt her heart pinch and squeeze, and then she surged forward and gave John a hug.

It was quick, but tight, and she squeezed him around the middle.

“If you ever need us,” she said. “We’ll come. Don't be a stubborn prick and not ask for help, okay? If I find out from Michael that you're trying to do something big and impossible all alone, I'll come right back to the Fenlands and whack you.” And then in a small voice, she added, “Remember, you’re not alone.”

JOHN:

This was one goodbye John just did not want to give. Much like Ting-Ting– John just could not bear it.

But he had to. And as they looked at each other for just a second or so of silence, John almost broke too. He wouldn’t have cried. He would have apologized pathetically and then asked Jane to come along too, like he almost had with Ting-Ting, though this ask would be for a completely different reason. It was because of all those past adventures. It was because of their romps through the park. It was because of Captain John and Captain Jane. It was because of their makeshift forts in the Darlings’ nursery, made out of pillows and spare cardboard boxes. It was because of their silly labeled tea system they’d created when they’d lived together. It was because of Napoleon, the dog.

It won’t be the same without you. There’s no one else I want to explore this new world with more than you.

He couldn’t say this because he had a feeling if he did, Jane might actually come with him. And that wasn’t fair. They’d had enough adventures, just the two of them. It was time to board different ships. And then Jane smacked into him, squeezing him tight– squeezing all those words right out of his chest so he didn’t have to say them at all. John was grateful. He put his arms around her and squeezed her back, nodded short and tight to her demand. Then the hug was over, everything left unsaid, but that was better. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be very boring, I think. I’m going to be sorting through old records and helping Michael work out some maths when it comes to tariffs and things like that,” said John, mouth twitching. “It’s all the tedium of helping a kingdom and none of the fun. Promise. I’d not dare have any of that without you.”

And now there was only one good-bye left, the hardest good-bye of all, a good-bye so great and heavy that John wanted to turn all the way around and walk into the gate, pretend that he didn’t have to do it at all.

But Michael’s hand touched John’s shoulder, and that was right– he wasn’t doing this alone, just like Jane said.

The two Darling boys turned to their elder sister.

“Hey, Wendy,” Michael said softly. “Looks like it’s almost time to go.”

WENDY:

Wendy had never said a lot of goodbyes, her life with her brothers had been moments of passing one another. Michael and John as they left Elfhame the first time, John into the Mara tree as she was tossed out. She had never said a proper goodbye to her family.

She didn’t want to start now.

And yet as they both looked down at her she wanted to protect them one last time, and she could, but she had to be brave. Reaching out Wendy set a hand on both their cheeks, her thumb running gently against their skin.

So many words she wanted to say, and despite her wanting to be brave she didn’t know how to find those words. Michael, her sweetest baby brother, grown in what felt like an instant, and he would continue to, becoming a great ruler of a place that did not deserve him. He would excel as he always did and Wendy would miss out on it once again.

John, her headstrong little brother, stubborn and smart, the glue that would hold and support Michael, and in turn draw strength from him. Wendy had always known how smart he was, but even now she could see it in volumes in his eyes.

They would be fine.

So she smiled at them, she smiled with all the pride and love she had for them, because her heart, though broken in ways that couldn’t heal easily, was so full of love for her brothers.

“Take care of one another.” Wendy whispered her voice betraying her as it wobbled. “We’ll see each other again, and until then I want to hear all your stories, no matter how small or how boring you might think they are. I’ll come running if you ever need me to.” Wendy added pulling them in for a hug as tight as she could, hiding her tears into their chest.

“I love you John, I love you Teddy.”

THE DARLING BOYS:

John and Michael embraced their sister, and it felt like a happy ending, for just one moment– like this was the place where the story should end. But it wasn’t going to. The hug would end and John and Michael would have to wave goodbye, and the Darlings were once again going to be separated. For how long this time? Both brothers wondered this. Would it be a year, or would it be ten years? Would the Fenlands be so kind to the brothers that when they finally stepped back through this door and find Wendy much, much older than them, happily married, with children of her own?

It would not be so bad, if that was what might happen. Perhaps there was not a happily ever after for all three of them, but John and Michael were in agreement that Wendy deserved one. A happily ever after for Wendy Darling – it was a story that they’d both read over and over.

They did pull away, after a moment. Tears ran down both of their cheeks. John cupped Wendy’s face briefly. “Enjoy it all,” said John. “Everything they took from you.”

And Michael leaned forward and kissed Wendy’s cheek. “You’re going to be wonderful, Wendy. I’ll miss you lots and lots.”

“We’ll write all the time,” John reassured for what was probably the umpteenth time, but if you repeat things enough, they become spells, brimming with magic– capable of achieving impossible things.

“We will! And oh, take care of Mum,” said Michael. “Make sure ol’ George gets out some, touches some grass.”

John laughed wetly. “Yes, give them our love. Tell Nana hi.”

“Oh! And when you go to Italy–” Michael assumed his sister would make it to Italy “--make sure to visit Maranello! There’s the best pasta place in the world– I told you about it, remember?”

John chuckled again and his hand rested on Michael’s shoulder. “We should let you get started,” John said. “We’ve all got a train to catch.”

And with that, the brothers did step toward the gate that beckoned them into the next world. Before each stepped through though, they looked back over their shoulder at their family. Michael lifted a hand in another wave.

“Be seeing you,” said Michael. He grinned. He winked, along with the first stars beginning to wake up here in the twilight.. “To be continued.”

#among the lostboys #the dashing darling #lost girl at sea #lost darling danny

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