anemoxlys

[anemoxlys]

What I want

Aemond x reader short fic

warnings: unwanted advances from Aegon, typical targcest, violence

“Aemond?” Your voice was soft and afraid as you watched your betrothed sneak down the corridor outside your chambers. “Y/N.” Came his reply as he shot you a look that immediately shut you up. 

Before you knew it, you were accompanying him down the corridors and passageways at DriftMark until you reached an all too familiar door. “Aemond we shouldn’t be here.” You whispered at the sight of your late aunt’s dragon. “Vhagar’s dangerous!” You continued as Aemond continued forwards. “What are you, afraid?” He laughed, approaching the dragon a tad too cockily for your liking. “Of losing you, yes!” You admitted as another laugh sounded throughout the cavern. “Dohaerās Vhagar! Lykirĩ.” (Serve Vhagar! Calm.) came Aemond’s booming voice as the dragon reared its head before bowing and letting Aemond climb to the riding point on its back. Then together they took off, leaving you alone in the dark, empty cavern. 

“There he is!” You heard one of your cousin’s voices as you and Aemond turned the corner, only to be confronted by your two siblings, Jace, your elder, and Luke, your younger, accompanied by your cousins, Baela and Rhaena, standing before you. The next thing you knew, Aemond was pinned to the wall by Baela as Jace came at him with a knife in hand. “Jace stop!” You screamed, tears streaming down your cheeks as your breathing became erratic and your hands began to shake. “Can’t you see your sister, not so strong are you?” Aemond teased, a trace of genuine concern in his voice as he took notice of your truly panicked state. “Shut up!” Jace screamed before slicing the blade down your betrothed’s face. A scream of pain left Aemond’s lips before he fell to the floor, cradling his right eye. You immediately ran to him, your hand shaking as you laid it over Aemond’s own, the blood seeping through his fingers and onto your palm. “What’s going on here?” You heard the voice of one of your grandmother’s guards ask as the door flew open. “Oh let the god’s be good.” Another one spoke as they took in the sight before them. 

You’d been staring mindlessly at the floor for the past half hour, hands still trembling by your sides and tears still flowing down your cheeks, before anyone addressed you. “You!” Allicent spoke up, turning to glare at you, “You were there, why did you do nothing as your siblings assaulted the Prince! Aemond tells me you did not side with them? So am I to believe you stood by and watched!” She screamed at you. A whimper left your lips as Allicent grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to look up at her. “Answer me!” She screeched. When you did not she flung your hair back and stalked back over to her own children, leaving you a sobbing mess on the floor. “What has happened?” You heard your father’s voice come from the doorway. “Your children attacked my son!” Allicent replied before your ‘mother’ got the chance to. 

Laenor quickly took notice of you, still sobbing behind Alicent’s robes and hastily ran towards you. You met him halfway there and grabbed onto his leg, sobbing even harder. “Get away from him!” Rhaenyra screamed, slapping your cheek as you got apparently too close to your brothers. “What is going on?” Your father asked, evidently confused at your mother’s outburst. “Your daughter stood and defended her son! Didn’t even protect her own.” She seethed, anger evident in her voice as she glowered down at your shaking figure. It was at that stage where you had run out of the room to seek comfort with your grandparents. 

You awoke the next morning to find your father proclaimed dead and your mother gone. Words couldn’t describe the grief you felt on that day, crying in a room by yourself until you passed out. That was how you spent the next several years of your life- in the presence of your grandparents, filled with grief for the family you had lost. 

When the letter inviting your grandmother to King’s Landing arrived, you immediately refused to accompany her- assuming your grandfather would do so. However he soon departed to fight in the stepstones, leaving you to accompany the only family member you had left to the place which caused you so much grief. 

“Are you sure I will be welcome here?” You asked quietly. “Of course my love, if not I shall burn king’s landing to the ground myself.” Rhaenys declared as the carriage pulled up outside of the gates. You were met with shocked faces as you stepped outside of the carriage and turned to offer your hand to your grandmother as she followed after. “They are staring.” You muttered softly. “Let them stare dear child, let them stare and gape.” She replied, seizing your hand in hers and beginning her march into the palace. 

Hesitantly, you walked through the doors without the support of your grandmother. You soon realised your entire family was already present at the table, and with slight frustration the only seat left was beside Aegon and your betrothed. Hastily, you sat down and smiled at Laena and Baela before staring at your lap. The feast ensued despite your visible distress and much to your disgust Aegon finally struck up conversation. “I know my brother isn’t the most appealing to look at, so if you wish I could fulfil his duty for you.” He whispered into your ear, sending a horrified shudder down your spine as his breath tickled your cheek. Opting to remain silent, you continued to stare only at your lap however you did notice your body leaning ever closer to Aemond. It wasn’t until Aegon had the audacity to speak again that you showed the slightest bit of a reaction. “My brother should count himself lucky, being so disfigured and still having such a lovely thing to stare at, if I were him I wouldn’t be able to control myself around such a fine hunk of meat.” He slurred, growing increasingly more drunk as the night went on. As those words left his lips you physically recoiled away from the prince and turned slightly to look away from Aegon. “Are you not going to eat?” Aemond spoke up after a few moments of peaceful bliss. “O-oh, of course my prince.” You muttered out, standing slowly and moving to walk to where Helaena sat as to reach some of the more stomachable food. It was then that you felt a stinging on your ass. Almost immediately Aemond stood, his eyes glowing with something you couldn’t quite place. “You forget yourself brother.” Aemond snarled, eyes narrowing at Aegon. “Why, she’s just some whore that took your eye.” Aegon retaliated. Tears pricked up in your eyes as you blinked quickly before exiting the room. 

You headed immediately for the dragon pit, your dragon always being able to provide you with an immense amount of silent support. “Caentalos.” You greeted your emerald green dragon. A soft roar greeted you in return as you reached where she was laying. You smiled slightly, reaching your hand out to pet your dragon’s snout, finding calm in the green scales. “I apologise for my brother. I am truly sorry you have been touched by his hand.” You heard Aemond speak as he nearly silently walked up behind you, your dragon stirring slightly against your hand. “You are not at fault, my prince. You have nothing to apologise for.” You returned, smiling at the man. “I never thanked you for that night.” He muttered after a few moments of silence. “Nonsense, I did nothing but watch and cry. I was afraid.” You retorted, disdainful of your previous actions. “You did not side with your family, you chose to stand by me. For that I am thankful, you held me as I bled without a care for your clothes or safety. I am in your debt.” He countered, taking a step closer to you so that now the two of you were nearly touching. You could feel his breath on your lips as he spoke. “If you insist, my prince.” You smiled, eyes flitting between his mouth and eye. “My mother does not wish us to marry.” Aemond whispered, his voice growing lower as he too was torn between admiring your lips and staring into your eyes. “And what do you want, my prince?” You returned. “If I had what I wanted, you would not be standing in this dragon pit, rather we’d be lying in the hay as one.” Came his reply, causing you to laugh lightly, “You would take your betrothed for the first time in the straw?” You teased, a smile spreading across your lips as you took a step back from the prince. “Did I say it would be the last time?” He countered, taking a step towards you, closing the gap between the two of you once again. “And if I expressed my desire for you to do as you wish?” You whispered, slightly unsure as to what words were leaving your mouth as you spoke. It only took a quick glance at you before Aemond pressed his lips to yours, moving you backwards so your back hit the wall of the dragonpit, Aemond’s hand moving between the back of your head and the wall as the two of you continued to press into each other. "Who am I to deny my betrothed?" He grinned, parting from you for only the briefest of moments before remoulding himself against your skin.

[anemoxlys]

Minthara Thoughts...

Just thinking about drow!reader whose wife Minthara writes a letter stating she's returning home to her beloved Mistress of House Baenre, ready to resume her role as Matron.

Except... she's bringing home some friends.

You had laughed out loud when you first received her letter, scaring the young girls who surrounded you at the time. Your wife, Minthara, writing to inform you of her impending visit with her… travelling companions? It was a hilarious prospect both to think that your wife made alliances with anyone above the surface and that she appeared to have grown a sense of humour since her departure, yet here you were - opening the door to her very real travelling companions. 

“My love.” You smiled, ignoring the people standing behind Minthara. “Welcome home.” You continued, taking her hand in yours. “It is good to be back.” She smiled back at you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before whispering into your ear, “They insisted on coming.” “Of course.” You agreed, a sly smile spreading across your face.

A/N: Let me know if anyone is actually interested in a longer fic of this (probs will be very fluffy)

[anemoxlys]

Lioness

Tywin Lannister x reader

approx. 4.5k words

You’d always hated your chest, it being practically non-existent, however recently it had been a blessing. Being a boy was a lot easier when you had no chest to show otherwise. However, no matter how good your’s and Arya's disguises were Tywin Lannister could see right through both of them. 

That’s how you currently found yourself pouring wine for the table of men you wanted dead almost as badly as you wished to drive a sword through the chest of Joffery Baratheon. “Girl.” You heard Tywin speak as he grasped your wrist. “Yes my lord?” You asked, your eyes flicking to Arya’s momentarily before your attention turned to the Lannister. “What house are you from?” He asked, releasing your wrist. “House umber my lord.” You answered. “And their sigil?” “Four silver chains linked by a central ring.” You answered. “Strange how you claim to be sisters yet you come from very different houses.” Tywin spoke, eyes staring holes into you. “Yes my lord, how bizarre.” You murmured before rushing out of the room. 

When you turned a corner to leave the castle you felt your wrist be grabbed by someone, pulling you back inside. “Listen girl, I know you’re a Stark.” The sound of Tywin Lannister speaking met your ears as you paled slightly. “I’m sorry my Lord I don’t know-” You began before you were cut off, “Don’t play coy with me.” He hissed, pulling you closer. “I have a proposition.” He started before continuing without giving you a single breath of intervention, “Marry me, I will then write a letter to your brother telling him to stop this stupid war as our houses will be joined in marriage.” He stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “That is very good my lord, but you have forgotten one thing.” He cocked his eyebrow at your response but did not speak up, allowing you to continue, “This only works if I agree.” You finished before your smile fell at the sound of his laughter. “You think you have a choice?” He sneered, “You marry me or I behead your companion.” He chuckled before releasing your wrist from his grasp and carrying on down the hallway in the opposite direction to you. 

You walked helplessly towards the man that was now your soon-to-be betrothed as he looked at you expectantly, “Well?” He asked, eyebrow raised as he looked at you. “I will agree to marry you, I only request you let my friend go. We are not sisters, I only meant to protect her.” You pleaded, stopping a reasonable distance from Lord Lannister. “It shall be done.” He agreed, waving his hand to clear the room of people before turning back to you, “Come closer, I should like to see my betrothed in her entirety.” He commanded as you nervously stepped towards him. “What is your name, my dear?” He asked as you stopped once again, now standing within touching distance of his chair. “Y/N Stark, my lord.” You answered nervously, sharply inhaling as you watched Tywin’s hand touch your waist. “I shall have new clothes sent for, I shall not have my future wife dressed in rags and mistaken for a serving boy.” He muttered, withdrawing his hand as he dismissed you with a wave of his hand, “There is a servant outside, he will show you to my chambers.” He spoke as you opened the door, causing you to momentarily freeze before reminding yourself of your position and nodding before closing the door behind you. 

As you walked towards Tywin Lannister’s chambers, you walked past Arya. “May I speak with my friend for a moment.” You asked the young boy who was escorting you. “I s’pose.” He replied, stopping in his tracks as you turned to your sister. “You’re going to be free to leave very soon, I cannot come with you. I am sorry. I had no choice, I love you.” You whispered, pulling her into a tight hug before releasing her again and continuing after the servant.

You remained in Tywin Lannister’s chambers the rest of the day, nervously sitting in an armchair located in the back right of the room, before noticing a book placed on the man’s bedside. Cautiously, you walked over to it before picking it up and reading the title. It didn’t look to be the worst thing you’d ever read so you returned to the chair, book in hand. The next few hours were occupied with said book and the armchair, you were careful to keep the bookmark in the correct page as you quickly devoured the contents, the story being a rather fascinating recounting of the Targaryen Dynasty in 103 AC, nearly 200 years ago, when Viserys II ruled. In fact, you were so absorbed in the history, you failed to hear the door swing open and the man whose room it was walk in. “You have made yourself comfortable I see.” The man spoke, causing you to jump slightly before standing. “I apologise, my lord. I did not know if I was to remain or leave.” You immediately spoke, placing the book down on the armchair behind you. “It is no problem, the book is to your liking?” He replied, removing his outer jacket. “Yes, my lord. It is fascinating.” You replied, eyes glued to the ground as the man continued to undress. “I have requested for food to be brought here instead of taken to the dining hall, I thought we may get to know each other. I understand this agreement was not of your choosing but I am not monstrous enough to not allow you to know your betrothed.” He spoke, walking over to you, taking your jaw in his hand as he forced your eyes up to him, “I will not harm you, am I understood?” He muttered as the door swung open once again to reveal a serving girl carrying two covered trays. Tywin removed himself from beside you as the girl placed the trays down on a table in the middle of the room, nodding her head before leaving. “Sit.” You heard Tywin speak, pulling out a chair for you before sitting in one opposite you. 

“Deer.” He spoke, noticing your reluctance to touch the meat. “I know, my lord.” You replied, hesitantly cutting into the meat, your hunger getting the best of you as your stomach ached at the lack of food you had consumed in recent days. Trying to push the bile rising up your throat back down, you slowly brought the small bit of meat to your lips, taking in a deep breath before beginning to slide it into your mouth. You quickly brought a hand to your mouth, covering your lips as you began to eat, your hand curling into a fist as you pushed the meat down your throat, it tasting just as vile as you remembered. The last time you had touched any animal in order to eat it was when you were aged seven, your father and Robb having just caught a stag patrolling the Godswood. “Is everything to your liking?” The Lannister man asked as you forced down more of the deer. You nodded slowly, not trusting yourself not to puke if you opened it for anything but food. “You will live in the Red Keep, alongside me.” You vaguely heard the Lannister speak causing you to look up at him in surprise, “I will not reside in Casterly Rock?” You questioned before your eyes widened, “Apologies, my lord.” You immediately backtracked. “No, you shall remain by my side. Where I can be assured of your safety.” He answered, ignoring your apology entirely before continuing with his determination of your future. 

That night, you remained in the furthest possible edge of the bed from the Lannister lord, being absolutely terrified of something happening whilst you were asleep so remaining awake all night. When the first signs of morning shone through a small gap in the curtains, you quietly slipped out from underneath the covers of the bed and made your way over to the window. Whilst you were by no means a ‘morning person’ the sunrises of the north had always astounded you with their beauty, your father having taught you several phrases and rhymes about the sunrises used by superstitious farmers before the King had him executed. The sun shone through the thin layer of clouds, turning the sky a brilliant shade of pink. It wouldn’t be too long before the sun would be hidden by the thick storm clouds on the horizon but until then you revelled in the slight warmth it brought. You remained, staring at the sun, lost in the memories of a better time, until your now betrothed stirred. “Lady Stark, you are already awoken?” He questioned, noticing you by the window. “Yes, apologies my lord, sleep evaded me this past night, I did not wish to wake you.” You replied, snapping out of whatever trance the sunrise had put you in and turned to face the man who had just spoken. “It is of no concern to me, come, dress, we have a long journey ahead of us.” He muttered, standing up and walking over to the chair he placed his clothes on the previous night. 

Your betrothed had you dressed from head to toe in Lannister red and gold, taking a surprising amount of care when lacing your corset, that being the only part of your dress you needed assistance with. “Thank you, my lord.” You murmured, bowing your head slightly before you followed him out of the room and through the castle. “You know how to ride?” He asked, the two of you reaching the courtyard. “Yes my lord, my father and eldest brothers taught me.” You answered, smiling softly at the memory. “Very well, your ride shall be tied to mine.” He spoke, walking over to probably the most gorgeous pair of horses you had ever seen. “Hey beautiful.” You whispered, reaching the horse beside your betrothed’s own. It had a long grey mane with a white coat, and the most gorgeous blue eyes. “Looks like we’re going to be stuck with each other.” You continued, admiring the animal before glancing at the lord who nodded in confirmation, this was to be your ride, and climbing atop the saddle.

The road back to King’s Landing was not a pleasant one, most of the men you were travelling with having not seen a lady in many months, resulting in you remaining in the safety of your tent whenever camp was set up. Of course, however, this tent was not safe from your betrothed, Tywin Lannister, who resided in the same tent as you- much to your deep disliking. 

“What is the problem now, my lady?” Tywin sighed, closing the book he was reading as he glanced up at you. “Nothing at all, my lord.” You replied, shivering slightly as the cold once again penetrated your clothes, you refusing to sleep under the sheets with your betrothed in an attempt to maintain as much modesty as humanly possible. “You are cold. Come.” The Lannister muttered, lifting the sheets slightly as an indication. “I am perfectly alright my lord.” You shut his idea down before yet another shiver wracked your body and you reluctantly did as he said, not that the sheets helped an immense amount. You flinched away as you felt a warm arm wrap around your waist before stilling as he spoke, “Calm yourself, I am no heathen. You are cold.” Tywin whispered, placing the book on the floor before snuffing out the candle. 

There was a strange, disgusting, comfort that you derived from being wrapped in Tywin’s arms, his torso pressed against your back. Sleep did not evade you that night. 

You awoke to the sound of rustling sheets as your betrothed moved out of the bed. “Apologies, did I wake you?” He murmured, there being a hint of something unfamiliar in his voice. “Not at all my lord, I usually wake early.” You yawned, sitting up slightly as you watched the back of your fiance. You had to admit he was attractive, his short blonde hair was greying ever so slightly making his eyes shine even more clearly, his arms were very clearly muscular and you couldn’t help but stare as he clenched his hands, imagining some very unladylike things. “Do you wish to accompany me for a ride, my lady?” You heard Tywin ask, pulling you from your thoughts. “Of course my lord, may I enquire as to where?” You replied, reluctantly swinging your legs out from the sheets. “I plan on riding ahead to King’s Landing.” He answered, reminding you of your fate. “Yes my lord.” You spoke, a ride to king’s landing still being preferable over being left with these strange men in the Lannister army. 

The ride to king’s landing was far too quick now that the two of you had left the army behind, the towers of the castle being within view after only half a day's ride, it being a few more hours before you entered the city alongside your betrothed. “I shall have someone escort you to my chambers, you shall wash and dress.” He muttered, climbing off of his horse before assisting you with your own, despite your capability. “Yes my lord.” You whispered hoarsely. 

The bath was nice if you were being honest, the mud and dried blood was practically welded to your skin so it took a significant amount of scrubbing but you did eventually feel human again. The dress that followed was far from your usual style, but very on trend for king’s landing as the sleeves fell down your arms in a low swoop, the neckline doing very similar. The bottom half was very similar to up north just made of nicer materials that meant nicer looking pleats, what you did struggle with however was the corset. The maids had long since abandoned you to your own devices, not being instructed or willing to stay, meaning you were unsuccessfully yanking at the strings yourself, trying to work the evil device. “My lady?” You heard your betrothed’s voice coming from the doorway as you let out a sigh of frustration. “Apologies my lord, I am having some difficulties with the corset back.” You admitted, sitting on the end of the bed. “The maids?” He questioned, taking a few steps towards you. “They were not told to stay, I do not blame them.” You replied, standing back up as you moved your hair over one shoulder. “No matter.” He muttered, his hands coming to the corset as he assisted you once again. 

“Thank you my lord.” You smiled after it was fastened. “Not at all.” He returned, without the smile, before offering you his arm. “Come, we have lots to discuss.” He spoke, watching as you took his arm. Silently, the two of you walked to the Hand of the King’s office/study, passing the occasional staring maid, servant, and/or visitor as you did. After only a few minutes of walking, you had reached your destination, thanking Tywin as he held open the door, indicating for you to walk in first. 

You hesitantly took a seat on one of the armchairs by a bookcase, briefly allowing yourself to skim over the titles before returning your attention to the Lannister. “You wished to talk my lord?” You asked as he sat behind the desk seemingly preparing to begin writing. “My rooms are not always the most safe, you are far safer by my side.” Was all the answer he gave before he began writing, leaving you slightly confused before returning to the bookshelf. 

Several hours had passed in relative silence, the occasional question from you about the history of the Red Keep, and the occasional answer from Tywin were the only things breaking the quiet. That is, until a knock on the door startled you from your page. “Enter.” You heard Tywin sigh, placing down his pen. The door flung open to reveal Cersei Lannister, a sight that immediately made you stiffen in fear as you remembered what her son had done to your father as she stood back and watched, a smile on her face as your father was beheaded before your very eyes. “Another Stark wench?!” She hissed, not noticing you in the corner of the room. “My servants tell me of another.” She reiterated, attempting to pull answers from your fiance. “Yes.” Was all he replied, moving to pick up his pen again. “Why is that thing here?” She asked, still fuming but looking like she could control her temper better now. “To be my wife.” You heard Tywin reply before the sound of a slamming door reached your ears and the witch stormed out, screeching. It was only then that you released a shaky breath you were half aware you were withholding, afraid that even the smallest noise would alert the dowager queen to your presence. “Apologies, Cersei can be…” Tywin spoke, pausing in an attempt to gather the least insulting term he could think of. “It is fine, my lord.” You whispered, forcing a smile onto your face. “It is not.” He countered, “You are to be my wife, you are my betrothed, and you shall be treated with the respect you deserve.” He told you, walking towards your seat as he did, “Not even my daughter will ever disrespect you again, this I swear.” He continued, lifting your hand to his lips, not breaking eye contact with you as he did so. You sharply inhaled a breath of air before responding, “Yes my lord.” With a quick smile that he actually half returned before returning to his correspondents.

Only a few minutes had passed before you boldly, and extremely nervously, stood and walked to the lion’s desk, the man in question not looking up from the page he was staring annoyed at. “What seems to be bothering you, my lord?” You asked, stopping behind his chair, not looking at the page until he said you could. “I do not mean to pry, only you appear frustrated, and I was wondering if I could be of service.” You continued, “My father had both me and Robb write and read his letter when he could not.” You finished, watching as Tywin moved the paper slightly so you could read it too. 

It was from Robb. 

He had Jaime Lannister, Tywin’s heir, in his capture. He was demanding for Sansa and Arya, and you to be returned. Then Jaime would be freed and brought back to King’s Landing. “I could write him, my lord?” You offered, “You could read it before sending.” You elaborated, “If my brother knows no harm is coming to either Sansa or me, he may be obliged to return Jaime Lannister, perhaps for even just Sansa’s return.” Your betrothed contemplated this for a few moments before nodding and handing you parchment and a pen. “I do not need to read it, hand it to the raven master when you are finished.” With a nod you took the objects and returned to your armchair, beginning your letter.

It had been a few days since you had arrived at King’s landing before you had dinner with anyone besides Tywin himself, both of you rather enjoying the privacy the two of you got during meal times. It was mildly horrifying, how much you found yourself falling for Tywin Lannister, he was cruel, mean, and domineering… but there was another side to him that you found yourself falling harder and harder for. He was polite, respectful, suave, charming, and very handsome. Not to mention the care he took helping you with your corsets every single time, having forgone the assistance of maids as, in his words, “What kind of a husband would I be if I could not dress my own wife.” It was a dangerous thing to fall for a Lannister, especially the Hand of the King, yet fall you did. 

Your dress was very similar to the one you wore the day you arrived in the Red Keep, only with a bit more decoration along the collar and bottom of both the corset and dress itself. It was a beautiful lannisterian red with gold decorations that took your breath away every time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. “My lord?” You called, stepping out from behind the folding screen, fiddling with the off the shoulder sleeves slightly as you did so. Soon enough, you felt the familiar hands of your husband-to-be along your back as he carefully tied up your corset. “You are breathtaking.” He whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before taking a step back- leaving you very flushed as you turned to face him. “Thank you, my lord.” You smiled before a teasing idea came to your mind, “Shall I ask the dressmakers to design a wedding dress like this?” You asked, taking a step closer to the man. He hummed in response, his hands falling into place around your waist, “Careful, my lady. I am not always this gentlemanly.” He muttered, closing the distance between you as he pressed his lips to your own. You quickly returned the kiss, not certain how to exactly but attempting to do so all the same. It seemed as though you weren’t failing miserably as one of Tywin’s hands moved to the back of your neck, your own hands tangling in his short hair and front of his shirt. As the kiss (es) ended you attempted to catch your breath, a futile action as soon enough his lips were back on your own, more deliberately this time. “My lord.” You muttered in between kisses. “We have a dinner.” You continued, smiling slightly as the man before you seemed to not care for anything besides you in that moment. “It can wait.” He growled, immediately recapturing your mouth. 

A knock on the door separated the two of you as you immediately began to present yourself once more- straightening your neckline and fixing your hair- as Tywin spoke, “One moment.” Quickly, you reached up and adjusted the front of his now creased shirt with an embarrassed grin. As the door opened, you were sat once more in front of the mirror, seemingly doing your hair as you watched the reflection of Tommen walk into the room. “My mother wants to know when both of you are to join us?” He asked nervously, staring at his feet as he spoke. “We are just about to leave.” Tywin replied, motioning for the boy to relay the message, closing the door behind him. You couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your lips as you finished retying up our hair. “To think my own grandson prevented me from enjoying my wife-to-be.” Tywin sighed, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he looked into the mirror, eyes locking with your own. “The outrage, my poor, dear lion.” You smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before slipping away from his grasp, “Come, we have a meal, yes?” 

As you walked into the dining room, you were met with the sight of your sister for the first time since you had been separated months prior. Stealing yourself, you maintained a straight face and walked past Sansa alongside your fiance until he came to a stop and moved to pull your chair out before taking his own place beside you, separating you from Joffrey as you sat beside him and Tommen. “Now that everyone is finally here, shall we?” You heard Jaime ask from opposite you before an awkward silence took over the table. Silently, you picked at your food, attempting to look past the deer on your plate in favour of the other aspects until Tywin quickly removed the meat from your dish, transferring it to his own plate. “Thank you.” You whispered, loud enough for only him to hear before beginning to slowly eat what was left. 

“So you’re to marry our father.” Jaime began, attempting to spark conversation. “Yes I am.” You replied softly, placing your cutlery down gently. “I do hope we won’t be forced to call you mother.” He joked, causing a small smile to spread across your lips. “I won’t make you.” You replied, emphasising the ‘I’ aspect of the sentence, allowing a gateway for Tywin to speak. “Neither shall I if you do not wish it.” He added, speaking primarily to you. “What shall the wedding be like?” Tommen asked nervously from beside you. “I don’t believe we have begun planning yet.” You answered, quickly glancing at your betrothed who gave a slight nod of confirmation. “Do you have any requests?” You continued, watching as Tommen’s smile spread across his features.

Conversation continued peacefully until the man at the head of the table spoke up. “I am amazed you agreed to marry my grandfather, though you are much prettier than your sister. I may ask to swap!” Joffrey laughed, a sick glint in his eyes as he seemingly sized you up. “I do not think that…” You began before you were cut off, “I am the king! I am powerful! Whatever I say goes and if I say I wish to fuck you like a whore I shall!” He shouted, slamming the silverware on the table as he screamed. “Men who have to say they are powerful, very rarely are. Boy.” Your betrothed snarled before quickly standing, taking your arm and exiting the room to the sounds of Joffrey’s shrieks.

“I apologise for the king.” Tywin murmured, watching from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed as you removed your jewellery. “Nonsense, you defended my honour valiantly.” You smiled, a slight shiver running down your spine at the memory. “Still, he should not have ever uttered those things to you.” He continued. “Tywin, do not fret, I have full faith should anything happen that child would not beat you.” You countered, pausing your actions to turn and face him. “Unless my husband-to-be is not as strong as he claims.” You carried on, slowly standing and moving towards a now very focused Tywin. “Minx.” He muttered, his hands finding place on your hips as you came to a still between his spread legs. “Only for you.” You smiled, leaning towards his lips, unknowingly giving him an ample view down the top of your dress. A slight groan escaped Tywin’s lips before his hands pulled you closer against his body.

A/N: Can you tell I had a major crush on Charles Dance after watching GoT and then The Phantom of the Opera...

[anemoxlys]

Potentially unpopular CoD fanfic opinion

If you're writing fanfic for TF 141 and you actively choose to replace Gaz with Konig or just fully leave him out, I will assume it is racially motivated 99% of the time.

There is no excuse.

"But I haven't played the CoD games so I didn't know he was TF 141"... Neither had I when I first started interacting with and writing fanfic for the piece of media. It is not hard to figure out who is in TF 141 (Kyle) and who isn't (Konig). A quick google search in fact is all that's needed. A search of edits of the task force and you will find MANY of Gaz falling out of helicopters.

"But he's hard to characterise"... Harder than the Scottish bomb enthusiast whose accent is an essential part of his characterisation? Harder than the silent, vaguely traumatised yet loving behemoth of a man? Harder than a man whom I have interacted with practically ever fic written of him yet still could not tell you an accurate description of his personality as they all conflict? Kyle is (as a writer) one of the easier members to characterise and write well.

"But he's boring"... Have you watched any videos of his character AT ALL. He is such a fascinating character and his interactions with the other TF members are priceless. I appreciate that Ghost and Soap interaction videos are the most common, they're what convinced me to play MW3. BUT with a little bit of research (something I would encourage everyone to do before writing for a piece of media they haven't interacted directly with) they are not particularly difficult to come by.

"But he's not that attractive"... Do you have eyes? Do they work?

It is perfectly alright to prefer writing for certain characters over others but it is not alright to exclude the only POC from the group he makes 25% of.

If you genuinely struggle to write for his character and would prefer another just label it CoD fanfic or if you know the game MW2/3 fanfic ect... If you continue to write TF 141 without Gaz I will, as stated above, assume it's racially motivated unless proven otherwise.

'Innocent until proven guilty' NOT FOR MY MAN

[anemoxlys]

The Second Daughter

A/N: I am so hyped for the new season of HOTD especially after finding out Barry Sloane's going to be in it!!!

WC: 3500+

Potential CWs: Violence, men, unwanted sexual advances from men, the male gender, typical targcest (mentioned)

“What are we doing here?” You whispered, clinging onto your older sister’s arm for dear life- fingernails imprinting crescent moons into her skin. “Calm down, it’s fine.” She scolded, wrenching her arm from your clutch before skipping happily towards your uncle. You hastily followed after the two of them- not wanting to be left behind down the streets of Silk Alley, however when Daemon turned into one of the buildings you hastily slowed to a near stop. It was a brothel. “Rhae, are you sure this is safe?” You muttered, looking up at your sister with pleading eyes. “It’s all fine, stop whining already!” She hissed before following confidently after him. You did the same, wary eyes skimming over every person before hastily looking down as you registered the compromising situation the majority of them were in. 

When you next looked up, you were met with the sight of your uncle undressing your sister as they kissed against a wall. It made you ill. A few minutes had passed and you remained frozen in place, staring horrified at the scene before you. That is… until Daemon pulled away, a seemingly disgusted look on his face as he glowered down at Rhaenyra. He stormed past you seconds later and excited the brothel he brought the two of you to. 

“Rhae, are you okay?” You asked, moving forwards to your sister who was still lent against the wall. “This is your fault, if you hadn’t come.” She began, shoving past you to follow after your uncle leaving you abandoned in a brothel. 

You suddenly became very aware of the other people in the building and ran outside, only to bump into someone. “Hey there gorgeous.” A man's voice slurred in your ear as his hands wrapped around your waist. “What’re you doing out here… all alone?” He continued, his hands travelling lower. “Please let me go.” You whispered, your voice coming out all shaky and hesitant. “Aww man, even your voice is fucking sexy.” He groaned, pressing his bulky body against your own as his hands found placement on your ass. “Let me go!” You cried, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Nah, you’re mine for tonight.” You could feel every breath the man took against your neck. You began to cry even harder as he pressed a kiss to the exposed skin, his hand covering your mouth so you couldn’t scream. “I do believe she said to let her go.” You heard another voice demand from beyond your attacker. “Who the fuck are-” The fat man said, stepping briefly away from you so he could address the man before him. Immediately, you dashed past him and towards the newcomer. Only after you did so did you notice the familiarity of his voice. “Oi wench!” The man hissed, making a move to grab you too late as you hid behind your saviour. “Miss are you-” The knight began before you looked up and he froze. “Get back here!” The previous man screeched, foolishly moving to pass around the man to get to you. With one move your front was painted in red splatters and the howling reached your ears as a hand fell to the floor- removed from the arm it was once attached to. “Princess.” You heard the voice say before a hand touched your arm. 

You drew your gaze away from the now handless man and soon enough you met Ser Harwin’s eyes. “Can we go?” You asked, voice still shaky as you stepped slightly closer to him. “Of course, my lady.” He replied, taking your arm as he gently guided you back towards the palace. 

Since that day, you and Harwin were nearly inseparable, him being made your personal guard soon after the incident. “Good morning.” You grinned, upon exiting your chambers and seeing Harwin. “Good morning princess.” He returned, keeping his formal language no matter how hard you begged him not to. “Would you care to accompany me on a walk my lord?” You asked, taking Harwin’s arm on your own. “I’d love to princess.” Harwin replied, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips as your face lit up at his response. “Perfect, I shall tell the cooks.” You stated, moving towards the kitchens. 

“‘Ello m’ lady.” The cook announced as you walked through the archway. “Hello Gilda, how’s Robert?” You asked with genuine concern. “He’s doin’ much better now, all thanks t’ you.” She replied with a smile. “That’s wonderful to hear, I was ever so worried about him, do tell him so.” You returned before continuing with your original intention, “Ser Harwin and I are going for a walk, don’t mind lunch for us.” She nodded in reply, shot you a wink and then returned back to her stove, leaving you to return. 

“Hello again princess.” Harwin said as you took his arm and began your walk. After you reached your destination, you sat down on the grass, patting the area beside you as an indication for Harwin to join you. “I very much enjoy your company ser.” You smiled, leaning your head on Ser Harwin’s shoulder as he sat beside you. “And I yours my lady.” He returned, inhaling deeply before turning to face you. “Princess, this may seem sudden but believe me it is anything but, I have been enamoured with you from the moment I first had the pleasure of looking upon you. My heart is yours, and despite your answer, will always be yours. You have captured me body and soul and I know I cannot offer you much but I can offer you everything I have. I am yours for all eternity.” He began, his gaze dropping to where he held your hands in his, meaning he could not see the tears falling steadily down your cheeks. “Please, would you give me the utmost honour and allow me to request your hand in marriage. With your permission, and only after, will I ask my father for us to marry.” He finished, finally bringing his gaze to meet yours. Not trusting your words, you nodded quickly, lips pursed together to stop the happy sobs leaving your mouth. A smile erupted over Harwin’s face as tears also came to his eyes, only they did not fall down his cheeks as he smiled. “You have no idea how happy you have made me princess.” He murmured, bringing his hands up to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Apologies my lord, I am not the prettiest cryer.” You breathed, looking down slightly. “Nonsense, everything you do is beyond beautiful princess.” He whispered, his hands moving to cup your cheeks as he brought your eyes back to face his own. “I love you too, Ser Harwin.” You whispered, a silent promise going unspoken between the two of you as you sat silently in each other's presence. 

“Absolutely not.” Viserys replied when you brought up marrying Ser Harwin. “But father, why?” You replied, grasping his hands. “He is a knight, you are a princess. It would be scandalous.” He replied, sending you a glare. “So Rhaenyra sleeping around is fine but me marrying the man I love is scandalous.” You replied without thinking until a harsh sting came to your cheek. “You will not talk about your sister that way, you have no proof.” Your father spat, glowering down at you. “Everyone knows it father, you are just too blind to see what is right before you.” You shouted, tears streaming down your cheeks as your father grew red in the face. “You insolent girl!” He bellowed, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the room and into the corridor. “You will stay in there and not come out until you are ready to marry a man I choose.” He muttered before slamming your bedroom door shut and locking it. “No-one is to be allowed in, do you understand me?” Viserys told the guards at your door who briefly nodded before the king left. 

Three days had passed since you’d been allowed out, and eaten. You’d drink water from necessity but the food you’d rejected every time. “My lady, you must eat something.” Your handmaid spoke quietly as she brushed your silver hair. “I cannot Maria.” You replied hoarsely, tears still falling down your cheeks. “I will take a letter.” She said after a few moments of silence. “What?” You replied quickly, turning to face her. “I will take a letter to Lord Strong for you.” She clarified, causing you to immediately run to your desk and begin.

“Thank you Maria, you are a true friend.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around the older woman. “Of course My Lady.” She replied, leaving you alone once more. 

That night you did not sleep but instead packed any of your cherished belongings and a few dresses into your bag and awaited a knock at the door. There was a short period of time, when the guards rotated to go on break where your room was left unguarded- that was when you would make your escape. Then you heard it and immediately you grabbed your bag and opened the door to see the face of Harwin Strong. “Come.” You muttered quickly, closing your door behind you before taking Harwin’s hand in your own and running towards the dragon pit. Once you were safely in the sanctuary of the dragon pit did you stop running. “Princess?” Harwin queeried, his hand not leaving yours. “My father is a fool Ser Harwin, I could never marry another when you breathe. Let us marry, somewhere far away where he cannot stop us.” You pleaded, your free hand cupping his cheek, “I love you more than my titles and my life.” You continued. “We can return to Harrenhal after the wedding princess, my father will give us sanctuary.” Harwin replied, his lips meeting yours in a rushed kiss as the warning bells ran throughout the keep. “Drōgon māzigon (Drogon come)” You shouted as your dragon roared in response. “Do you trust me?” You asked, turning back to face your knight. “With my life.” Came the reply. You quickly climbed on top of Drogon and offered Harwin your hand. He climbed on behind you just as your father burst through the doors of the Dragon pit. You did not spare the old man a glance before Drogon began to fly away.

“We do not have to attend, my love.” Harwin murmured, pressing kisses across your face. “I know but I did love my cousin and I miss my aunt very much.” You replied with a smile as your son ran into the room. “Mother, father, when do we leave?” He asked, brown curls bouncing as he walked. “Soon.” You replied, lifting your son into your arms. “It is your fifth name day soon.” Your husband smiled, his fingers running through the boy’s hair. “Do you think my egg will come this year?” He asked excitedly as you awkwardly looked away. “Of course darling.” You replied, forcing a smile onto your face. “Be a good boy and make sure you’re packed.” Harwin muttered, pressing a kiss to Vae’s forehead. “It will be rough.” He murmured, hands coming to rest on your waist. “I have you by my side though, so it will be fine.” You replied, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pressed your lips to his. “I’m not going anywhere, and in a few months we’ll have a new addition.” He grinned in reply, his hands coming to rest on your not even showing yet baby bump. “Soon, my love.” You smiled in response. 

“Aunty!” You called after climbing off the ship. “Robyn.” Rhaenys smiled, walking towards you with her arms outstretched. “You look wonderful my dear.” She smiled, embracing you. “As do you princess, how are you doing? I am sorry for the loss of my dear cousin.” You replied, taking her arm as Harwin descended the steps with your son in his arms. “We will manage, the sea must continue flowing despite the rocks in its way.” She replied with a squeeze to your arm. “Of course.” You agreed, waiting for your family to catch up. “So this is the child I’ve heard so much about.” She smiled, bringing her hand up to your son’s hair. “He looks like you.” She spoke, turning to address Harwin. “That he does.” He chuckled, shifting Vae in his arms. “His name is Vaelon, or Vae.” You told Rhaenys as she took him from Harwin. “He is perfect.” She replied as both you and Harwin smiled. 

“Sister.” Rhaenyra said coldly as your eyes met for the first time in 5 years. “Princess.” You replied awkwardly, Vae now in your arms as your aunt went to mourn with your uncle. “That is your bastard then?” She asked, indicating at Vaelon. “He is no bastard.” You returned. “You are unmarried, he is a bastard.” She replied just as harshly as before. “I am married your grace.” You muttered as Harwin came to stand protectively behind you. “Not under the seven.” The princess exclaimed, clearly furious that you were content with your life whilst she was the opposite. “No, under the old gods of Valyria.” You shot back before continuing, “Just because your children are bastards does not give you the right to falsely accuse me of the same, I love my husband. I feel pity that you do not love yours but I will not excuse your tongue sister.” You hissed before turning and walking towards the funeral casket where Laenor stood solemnly. “I am deeply sorry cousin, I loved her very much but I cannot begin to understand the pain you feel.” You said quietly as your hand came to rest on Laenor’s shoulder. “I appreciate you being here, cousin, I have missed your company.” He admitted, pulling you into a hug before noticing the child at your hip. “You must be Vaelon.” He smiled down at the, now very much awake, child. “Yes sir.” Vae replied, causing Laenor to chuckle slightly. “I am no stranger to you Vaelon, I am your mother’s cousin.” He spoke softly. “You can call me uncle.” He finished, bringing his hand up to ruffle Vaelon’s hair. “Have you met your cousins yet?” He asked, making Vaelon stare up at you with pleading eyes. “Go Vae, be safe, I am sure Laena and Baela are in need of company. See if Aemond is around as well.” You smiled, nudging your boy as he enthusiastically ran inside the keep. 

“Where’s Vaelon running off to?” You heard Harwin ask as he brought you a glass of wine. “He’s trying to find his cousins, to offer his condolences.” You replied, taking the glass in your hands before turning to Laenor, “My husband, Ser Harwin Strong.” You introduced. “A pleasure to meet the man who has made my cousin so clearly happy.” Laenor smiled, offering his hand which Harwin took. “My wife has told me many stories of you, she remembers your time together fondly.” Harwin replied with his usual smile on his lips. 

“The King Viserys and Queen Alicent.” You heard someone shout as you reluctantly turned around to greet your father. You noticed his eyes scouring the crowd before they settled on you. “Here he comes.” You whispered, taking your husband’s hand in yours. “Daughter, you seem well.” Viserys spoke, walking towards the two of you with Alicent following behind. “Being outside of a locked room does wonders for you.” You replied bitterly. “That was six years ago, child, you do know how to carry a grudge.” He groaned, glowering at you and Harwin. “My king, it is good to see you in such health.” Harwin spoke, bowing his head slightly to break the silence. “You kidnap my daughter and then have the audacity to address me?” Viserys spat, his face contorting into disgust, “Where is your bastard child I wish to see him.” He continued, his face growing more repulsed as he did. “Our son is with his cousins, and he is no bastard. Ser Harwin and I were married under the old gods of Valyria coming up to six years ago.” You replied bluntly, resentment bubbling in your eyes. Your father simply scoffed at your words before storming past his wife in the opposite direction. “It may not mean much, but I am truly happy for you both.” Alicent muttered before following after her husband. “His majesty is as pleasant as I remember.” You heard Harwin sigh beside you, his hand finding yours and bringing it to his lips. “He appears to be well.” You murmured, blinking away the tears from your eyes. “You deserve better than this.” Your husband whispered, pulling you into his arms. “I know it is stupid, but just once I want him to approve of my life. Rhaenyra does worse and receives so much of his love in return, am I just not worth it?” You muttered, tears sliding down your cheeks as Harwin’s arms tightened around you. 

You were fast asleep, finally relaxed as you slept beside your husband, until a loud knocking on your door stirred you awake. Reluctantly, Harwin removed himself from your bed and moved to open the door. “My lord, there has been a situation involving the children.” The guard murmured, glancing nervously between Harwin and the floor. Immediately, you were out of your bed, your blood running cold as you and your husband ran down the halls towards the ‘throne’ room. “Vaelon?!” You called, throwing open the doors and hurrying inside, eyes frantic. Instantly, your eyes fell on your son standing alone in the centre of the room, his back to the door until he heard your voice and he turned to look at you. “Mother?” He called back, his voice shaking with a mixture of terror and from the tears that were streaming from one of his eyes. Tears sprang to your eyes as Vaelon looked up at you, a jagged cut running from just above his eyebrow down to his jawline, the blood mixing with his tears across his face from where he had clearly tried to wipe the liquid away, not being old enough to fully understand what had happened to him. His palms were also scuffed and scraped, with similar smaller cuts being evident on his now visible knees as his trousers were torn. “My darling boy!” You murmured, sprinting over to where he remained standing, growing more panicked as he couldn’t see you through the lack of both his eyes. “Mama!” He cried, his small arms clinging to you as you reached him in the centre of the room. “It’s going to be alright, I’m here.” You whispered, carefully picking your son up and cradling him in your arms. “Harwin…” You muttered, turning to face your very pale husband. “You know more about this, is it as it looks?” You asked, careful around the language you used. Silently he nodded before taking Vae in his arms, noticing you begin to shake slightly as the tears began to fall more rapidly.

“What happened?” You asked, voice quiet yet filled with a rage you couldn’t quite control. “Aemond stole Rhaella’s dragon!” Jace spoke up from behind your sister’s skirts. “Who did this?” You reiterated, motioning to your shaking son. An awkward silence filled the room as Jace glanced down at his shoes, a guilty expression spreading across his face. “Now let's not point fingers.” You heard your father speak from where he sat on the throne above you all. It was then that you noticed a similar injury on Alicent’s youngest son, his own face having been cut in a similar fashion. “Do you think that my son was injured in such a manner by simply tripping? This was an attack!” You replied, turning to face your father as you spoke. “Your own son is also injured, both their eyes may be permanently unusable!” You continued, your voice raising in volume as you spoke. “And so what, you accuse my own children?!” You heard Rhaenyra quip back. “Are your own injured in such a way?” You hissed, shooting her a glare as you spoke. She opened her voice to respond but you did not let her, “My son has been brutally attacked, he is only 4 he has done nothing to provoke such an attack. Then he was abandoned to cry alone whilst we were fetched several minutes after everyone else! And you have the audacity to play the victim Rhaenyra, grow the fuck up and recognise that your children have done this!” You whispered, stalking towards your sister as you spoke, stopping mere inches away from her. “My sons are injured as well-” She attempted before you cut her off once again, “If you dare to compare my son’s disfigurement with your sons’ temporary injuries I swear to all the gods I will disfigure you myself, see you compare the two then.” You spat, turning on your heels and walking back to Harwin and Vae before the three of you moved to leave. “Do not leave! We must fix this as a family.” Viserys attempted once again. “You have made it abundantly clear you do not respect my family nor care for my son’s injuries. The sentiment is shared with yours.” You responded, not bothering to turn around as you made a swift exit. 

[anemoxlys]

Shouting out:

@spooky-pomegranate - ghost bc

@iydiamartinx - DC

@wyvernne - Genshin

@novaursa - GOT

@beloveds-embrace - COD

@writingjourney - ghost bc

@yogirl-willow - K-pop demon hunters

@lay-z - COD

@dawn-moths - Black Butler

@lostintransit - COD angst

@yenayaps - JJK

@madamechrissy - JJK

Fully agree with original poster cause ya’ll could charge money to read your fics and it’d be fully justified 🧎‍♀️

Edit: all writers write for more than I’ve linked but that’s what I’ve mainly interacted with their accs for

y’all ever read a fanfic that you cannot believe an author just wrote for free?? what an honor it is to read a piece of someone’s soul they shared out of nothing but love for a piece of media. what a privilege it is to be allowed their talent because you share an interest!!

[anemoxlys]

Mihawk x reader

“Y/N!” You heard Luffy call from the deck. “Luffy?” You questioned, walking carefully up the stairs. “A restaurant!” He announced, a wide grin across his face as you stood as close as you could to the boy. “Shall we eat?” You smiled, grinning wider as Usopp let a manic grin spread across his face as well. “Booze is on me.” You chuckled, patting Zoro on the shoulder as he became suddenly interested in the ship. 

“Holy mother of…” You whispered, turning to glance at Nami, “Do you think he has hollow legs or something?” You queeried, staring in horror at Luffy who had successfully eaten the whole menu. “Probably.” She agreed, doing the same. “Here is your bill.” Your waiter suddenly interrupted your conversation, sending a flirtatious smile towards you and your friend before grinning down at the bill and walking back into the kitchen. “How are we going to afford that?” You began before a booming voice interrupted you once again, “Who the hell is Monkey.D.Luffy?” “I am!” Luffy replied, poking his head out from the chair as you pressed your face into your palms. “Mystery solved.” Nami muttered, letting out a long sigh as Luffy was yanked into the kitchen. “More drinks?” She asked, pausing before continuing, “On me.” “My favourite kind.” Zoro agreed, sliding out from what small part of the chair he managed to fit his swords onto. 

You had been slowly sipping the same drink for about twenty minutes as the sky grew progressively darker. Nightime was always bad for you, the memories being much more vivid as your senses heightened at the gradual loss of your eyesight. “He’s going to get himself killed.” Zoro muttered, glancing at Usopp who was shouting loudly at the bar. “Agreed.” Nami shrugged, pouring herself another shot as you slowly closed your eyes.

Your peace, however, was short lived as Usopp’s voice interrupted your sleep. “Hey guys, meet my new best friend!” You reluctantly opened your eyes before your blood ran cold. “Who-” Nami began before Zoro interrupted, “You’re Dracule Mihawk.” He murmured. “Indeed, and you have something of mine.” Mihawk replied, his eyes falling upon you. “I’m going to get another drink.” You whispered hoarsely, standing from your chair before carefully moving past the warlord who only watched with a sadistic grin as you ran from him. 

Luffy!” You screamed once you were back inside the Baratie. “Y/N?” He responded, standing as you burst into the kitchen. “He’s here.” You sobbed, your breaths coming out in short, unco-ordinated bursts. “Who’s here gorgeous?” The waiter asked, guiding you to a seat. “Mihawk.” You cried, hands shaking as you spoke his name. “Dracule Mihawk…” Sanji repeated quietly as Luffy’s eyes narrowed, “The one who took you from Foosha Village.” He muttered angrily as you continued to hyperventilate. “That bastard.” He continued, growing more enraged as you continued to sob before his very eyes. “I can’t go back… please.” You begged, pleaded with both the blonde man and Luffy. “No-one’s gonna take you darling.” Sanji promised, bringing you into a hug before the door to the kitchen swung open again. “Hands off blondey.” The man from your nightmares growled, taking another step towards you as you backed up into the chair. 

“Mihawk.” Luffy breathed, a grin spreading across his lips. “Monkey D Luffy?” Mihawk questioned, “Someone wants me to bring you in.” He commented, keeping his eyes on you. “I may be persuaded to leave you be, however.” He continued, taking yet another step forward. “She’s not going anywhere with you.” Luffy hissed, eyes narrowing at the warlord.”  “I wasn’t asking.” Came the reply. You stared in horror as Mihawk slowly reached for his necklace, panic spreading through your body as you recalled what that meant, both for you and your crewmates. “Wait!” You muttered, refusing to make eye contact with anyone as you shakily stood from your chair, ignoring the worried faces of your friends as they all barreled into the kitchen. Slowly, you walked towards Mihawk, stopping just before him and nervously looking up at him. “I’ll go with you, Dracule, just let them be… please.” You murmured, bringing your hand to lace with his. “What do I get out of it?” He asked, bringing his arm around your back. “Anything you want.” You responded, leaning your head against his chest. “Good girl.” He praised, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Get out of my way.” He said, glaring at Luffy who stood, blocking the back exit, Sanji not far behind him. “No. She doesn’t want to go with you!” He shouted back, “I’m not going to let you take her again.” “Hear that darling, he’s going to stand in my way.” You heard Mihawk chuckle into your hair. “How should I end him, do you think?” Panic once again spread through you as you quickly tapped on his shoulder to relax his grip around you. “Luffy, I made my choice.” You interjected, turning in your fiance’s grasp. “You don’t want this Y/N.” He murmured, his eyes pleading with yours. “Yes, I do. Mihawk is my fiance and I love him.” You continued, repeating the words as you once did before. “There we have it, now, move. Before I make you.” Mihawk spat, marching towards the door that Luffy was pulled away from by Nami. 

“Smart choice, dearest.” Mihawk whispered as he guided you onto his ship. You said nothing as he sat on his throne-like chair, pulling you onto his lap as he set sail. 

The castle was just as grim as you remembered it to be, your room- his room- just as cold and sad as before. “You’re going to be spending some time in here, alone, to reflect on what you’ve done.” Mihawk murmured, pressing kisses down your neck as he spoke. “When I knock I want you to be ready for me, your choice how.” He finished, pressing a long kiss to your lips before leaving and locking the door behind him. 

The room, in all its misery, could be worse- it was Mihawk’s room alongside yours meaning it had certain luxuries that you could nearly guarantee your own chambers would not have had. Trying to calm yourself down, you made your way over to the gramophone, placing a disc onto it before setting it off and enjoying the simple pleasure of the music. Next, you headed over to the closet, not knowing when Mihawk would return so assuming it would be safer to be ready for longer than needed than to be caught unprepared. Reluctantly, you stripped out of your clothes and brought the new set into the bathroom where you quickly showered and changed. The set wasn’t too bad- it being one of the more conservative of the clothes Mihawk got for you, although it was a bit loose, your time at sea having resulted in a significant weight loss. Next on your agenda was makeup, which was probably the only part you reasonably enjoyed, the music calming your nerves significantly as you got to work. 

It was a few hours after you’d finished that Mihawk returned, locking the door once again as he walked inside. “You’re even more beautiful than the day you left me.” He whispered, eyes running up and down your body as he spoke. “Come.” You immediately, and silently, did as he ordered. Standing up from where you were lying, placing the book on the nightstand and walking over to the warlord solemnly. “Are you punishing me by not speaking my love?” He questioned, pulling you closer into his chest. You didn’t reply. “I may be willing to forget a certain misunderstanding if you return to your old self.” He began, growing frustrated at your silence, “Were you not happy with me? Did I not give you everything you could ask for? Do I not love you as no other has before?” He shouted, causing tears to slip down your cheeks as you shook your head. “Do you not love me?” He asked, significantly quieter than his previous yelling. “I don’t know.” You whispered, your voice cracking with sobs as you spoke. “I did Mihawk, for a time. I just don’t know anymore.” You continued, growing more nervous as his gaze hardened. “You will learn.” Was his only response before he threw you away from him and stormed out of your room, locking it once more.

[anemoxlys]

Secondo x reader (Hades and Persephone AU)

Warnings: could be read as a mildly abusive parent, consentual kidnapping

“Y/N!” Your mother called from the other side of the field, forcing your attention off of the small children you were playing with. “Coming mother!” You replied, smiling a farewell at the kids before hurrying towards your mother’s voice, not noticing the figure watching you from the shadows.

“Are you alright?” You asked nervously, having noticed a figure in the shade of the trees from just beyond the sunlight that you bathed in. “Perfectly, I am simply not fond of the sunlight.” Came the response from the stranger. “I shall come to you then.” You smiled, carefully standing so as to not crush any of your flowers before stepping closer to the stranger. “You are very beautiful kore.” The man spoke as you neared his shadows. “Thank you stranger, I am sure the compliment will be reciprocated only I cannot see you in the shadows.” You grinned, cheeks flushing slightly at his words. 

“You grow many lovely flowers, do you have a favourite?” The man asked, leaning his back against a tree trunk as he conversed with you, remaining in the shadows and you in the sun just beyond. “I love them all but if I were to choose I would say the roses. I adore the mortal customs around them and what they have come to represent.” You smiled fondly at the memories of your plants being gifted to cherished loved ones. “Do you have a favourite?” You asked back, reclining further back into the grass. “Not much grows where I am from, but if roses are what you love they will be my favourite as well.” He replied. You opened your mouth to reply only to be interrupted by the sound of your mother calling your name as she did every afternoon. “Will I see you again stranger?” You asked as you stood, looking into the shadows as you spoke, attempting to decipher some feature of his. “If you wish to.” He replied before seemingly vanishing and you were forced to return to your mother.

“I thought you would not return.” You heard the familiar voice of your stranger speak as you took a seat in the sunlight next to the trees. “My mother has been strangely protective recently.” You spoke, frowning slightly as you did so. “Such an expression should not be on a face as beautiful as your own, what concerns you?” He asked, cautiously moving his hand to the edge of the shade, his pinky finger just touching yours. “My mother, I love her truly but she can be… controlling at times. I often feel as though I am suffocating around her.” You sighed, moving your own hand into the shade slightly as it rested atop the strangers. “I am sure she simply cares for you deeply.” The voice spoke, the hand beneath yours turning so your fingers interlocked. “I know, I just wish she would speak with me rather than locking me inside.” You returned before a smile came across your face, “But I am free from my prison now so you must tell me what you’ve been doing in my absence.” You continued, grinning into the shadows at where you hoped he was seated. “Waiting for you when I have not been working.” He answered, his thumb running along the back of your hand as he spoke. “I am not worthy of such dedication, we must find you other hobbies.” You laughed, shuffling closer. “You are worthy of more than I could ever provide.” The stranger spoke, his voice oddly sincere. “Nonsense, however if you believe so I cannot stop you, only I must insist on your developing other hobbies.” You returned.

It was another 9 days before your mother permitted you to leave the house again, you growing rapidly fed up with her constant dictating your freedom. “Released from your prison again?” The stranger spoke as you neared the treeline. “Finally.” You answered, sitting in your usual place. “What is your name stranger, I feel bad not knowing.” You asked, your hands finding one another's again. “I have many names, the most frequent is Hades.” He returned, watching as you moved the closest you’d ever gotten to the shade. “Which name do you prefer?” You questioned, the desire to see your not-so-strange stranger growing more by the second. “Secondo is what you may call me.” He replied, his hand falling from yours. “Where are you going, have I offended you in any way, it was not my intent-” You spoke, voice panicked slightly at the thought of insulting. Your concerns, however, were quickly cut off by a pair of lips meeting your own. He was cold, not in an uncomfortable way, but in a manner that reminded you of finding shade after a hot day. Like drinking cold water after being in the sun. Slowly he began to pull away after a few moments only for you to chase after him, your lips meeting again in the shade. “I overstepped, I am sorry.” He spoke after the two of you separated. “Nonsense, I quite enjoyed it.” You smiled in response, your heart pounding and chest rising and falling rapidly with your shortness of breath. The moment was quickly ruined by your mother’s usual call and your subsequent reluctant departure. 

The next several meetings consisted of your usual discussions intermingled with kissing and similar activities until you came to him crying. “My love, what is wrong?” He asked, his hands breaching the barrier as they came to cup your cheeks. “My mother has said I must marry.” You sniffled, tears slipping down your cheeks as you spoke. Silence was all the response you got until you carried on talking, “She says I must marry a mortal man who lives nearby, it has been arranged already.” You continued, your crying turning into ugly sobs. “What if there was another option?” Secondo asked, his hands falling from your face in favour of grasping your hands. “What is it?” You questioned, complying as he pulled you away from the sunlight. As you became fully submerged into the shadows, you finally saw him. “Come with me.” He whispered, kneeling before you looking like temptation itself as he gazed up at you. Silently, you nodded, a look of peace spreading across your face as the two of you began to sink slowly into the ground.

Author Note:

I have written more of this story but it remains unfinished for now so this can be viewed as both a standalone and potentially a pt 1 of a longer fic

Kore = typically a term used to describe 'young female' by scholars, most frequently used in greek art such as the 'Peplos Kore' sculpture

[anemoxlys]

Anemoxlys Archive

The Band Ghost:

SECONDO

Persephone and Hades! AU

Lord of the Rings:

THRANDUIL

Insert into Lord of the Rings:

Teaser

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Cinderella AU

Game of Thrones:

ROOSE BOLTON

Roose Bolton x reader (I'm not delusional you are)

OBERYN MARTELL

Ellaria and Oberyn could take me, not in a fight

ELLARIA SAND

Ellaria and Oberyn could take me, not in a fight

RHAEGAR TARGARYEN

Victory

TYWIN LANNISTER

Lioness

House of the Dragon:

HARWIN STRONG

Drabble

The Second Daughter

CREGAN STARK

Runaway

AEMOND TARGARYEN

What I want

Other:

DON PEDRO

Drabble

DRACULE MIHAWK

Yandere Mihawk

HADES AND PERSEPHONE

Give me a Hades and Persephnone type romance I BEG OF YOU

[anemoxlys]

Ya’ll I’m on my knees begging rn for people to write more Perpetua fics, I check the tag every few days or so in hope but NOTHING

On my knees pleading for respite rn 🧎‍♀️

[anemoxlys]

“I’m gay” “I’m lesbian”

Okay well I’m satanised…

“I’m a top” “I’m a bottom!” I’m done crying?? Over someone like you??

[anemoxlys]

The fact that because both are played by the same man means we won’t ever get a duo of the two makes me mourn a loss

on the delulu side of things – i think after this album and what i've heard/seen so far perpetua as a character promises to be a wonderful papa. he feels wise beyond his years, empathetic, creatively bold. he sends out messages of hope, community and belonging, accepts the complexities of life while also promising that we are not alone with them. and he does not lack the freak, whimsy or playfulness either. he is different from copia which neither equals better nor worse, and they could balance each other out, complement each other into a character duo that grows with us now into a time of great uncertainty and no doubt a lot of pain that we have to navigate. and i think after hearing skeletá, as hard as it is to accept change sometimes, i feel a little calmer knowing that we are seen and heard and understood, that we're not alone, as lonely as we might feel.

[anemoxlys]

Write it shitty, write it scared, write it without a clue but don't you be so spineless and have an AI write fanfic for you.

[anemoxlys]

Roose Bolton x Reader

TW: potentially attempted SA, bedding ceremonies (?)

Word Count: c. 2,500

“Mother.” You sobbed, watching as Cersei walked naked through the gate. “Mother!” You cried, running towards her as Qyburn wrapped a blanket around your mother. “I have missed you.” You sobbed, your arms now wrapped around your mother’s frame as her arms wrapped around your own. You knew Qyburn was speaking but as you cried into your mother’s embrace it was as if he was speaking a foreign language for you could not hear a word the man spoke. 

“You wished to see me?” You asked nervously walking into the room. It had only been a few days since your mother’s return and she was already out for revenge. “My sweet girl.” She smiled, opening her arm out to you. “What is it you wish of me, mother?” You asked, clasping her hand in your own. “I have found you a husband, the capital is no longer safe for you.” She smiled, wiping away the stray tears slipping down her cheeks as she spoke. “Who.” You gasped, stepping away from the woman. “Lord Bolton.” She answered regretfully. “No! Mother, he is married!” You shouted, tears now running freely down your own cheeks. “Not anymore.” She replied before waving her hand at you to leave her be. 

That was all several weeks ago and the long trek to winterfell had long since begun, your mother not wanting to give you enough time to flee after telling you the news. 

“Princess.” You heard one of the knights cough, causing you to look regretfully up at the keep. “We are here, princess.” He continued, encouraging your horse forwards as your eyes dropped back down to your hands. “Stepmother!” You heard a disgustingly slimy voice coo as you entered the keep. You did not grace the voice with either reply or glance, instead simply dismounting and remaining by your steed until your knight spoke again. “Ramsay Bolton, and his father, Lord Bolton.” He muttered, taking a step back from where he was whispering into your ear. Slowly, you moved your gaze upwards, staring blankly at both men before speaking, “Where will I stay?” You asked, voice raw from crying most of the journey North. 

There was an oddly familiar man who showed you to your room, only for you to realise you would be sharing with another. “Get out.” The woman snarled, her eyes holding nothing but hatred for you. “Who are you?” You asked softly, backing up into the now closed door. “Your family killed my father and you do not know me? Your brother tormented me for years and you do not know me?” She hissed, storming towards you. “Sansa…” You whispered before a harsh slap came to your cheek. “Wait please! I had no part in it!” You sobbed, now on the floor, where you had been thrown. “You stood by and watched as your family killed my own.” She continued, her own tears falling down her cheeks. “I had no choice! You think my brother would have spared me, because we share blood?” You screamed, crawling away from the woman. “I… I loved your brother. I wanted no part in what happened to your family.” You continued to mutter, now sobbing into your hands. “I did not know.” The red-head (now raven haired) cried, moving towards you as the two of you sobbed together. 

“I see you have already made a friend!” The same voice who greeted you earlier announced as you and Sansa walked into the dining hall. “Ramsay?” You whispered into her ear, trying to puzzle out the lunatic’s identity. Sansa nodded in reply before the two of you sat down, her opposite her betrothed and you opposite your own. When the food was brought out by the same man who escorted you to your new room, you felt Sansa stiffen beside you. Glancing slightly over at the stark, you reached your hand out for her own, squeezing it slightly as your fingers laced together. “I thought you might recognise him.” Ramsay grinned, his eyes wild with glee as he saw Sansa’s discomfort. “He killed your brothers did he not?” He continued, much to your horror as you watched the tears swell in your friend’s eyes. “Fear not, he is no longer Theon Greyjoy, he is Reek now. Isn’t that right Reek?” He rambled, his smirk growing only wider. Ramsay continued like this until he turned to face you, “I am surprised to see the two of you so close, after all her brother, mother, and unborn niece did die at the command of your grandfather.” He muttered, eyes narrowing as he spoke. “I’ve heard rumours that the two of you even loved each other.” He continued, revelling in the atmosphere he was creating with every word. He opened his mouth to continue but was quickly silenced by a loud slam of a fist onto the table. 

“That is quite enough. You forget it was her brother who made you my son.” Roose countered, only sparing his child a quick glance before continuing, “And she is soon to be your stepmother when we are wed within the month.” It was as if the world came crashing down in that second. “Within the month, my lord?” You gasped, the hand not in Sansa’s beginning to shake as the reality hit you. “Is there a problem my lady?” The man responded, staring at you with his blue eyes. “Not at all my lord…” You quickly corrected, your face paling as you spoke, “I seem to have lost my appetite, if you will excuse me, my lord. “You whispered, standing from the table and curtseying before making your exit back to your shared chambers. 

“Are you alright?” You heard a familiar voice ask as the door closed. You were sobbing over a pile of letters, the seal unbroken on all of them. “I wrote these to the man I was to love.” You sobbed, the letter in your fingers falling to the floor, “I had hoped to give them to your brother.” You continued, Sansa letting you speak until you chose not to. “I am truly sorry, I know I cannot atone for my brother’s doings, but I truly loved you and your family with my whole heart. I am so sorry, lady stark.” You finished, tears still running down your cheeks. 

When you next awoke, it was with Sansa’s arms around you, the two of you lying on the cold, stone floor. Carefully, you removed her arms and quietly left the room, in hoped of exploring the castle before others awoke, since you were to be it’s lady within the month- a thought that still made you shudder. 

As you crept further around the castle, the more anxious you grew. ‘What if you got caught?’ ‘What if someone alerted Roose, or worse Ramsay, of you having left your room?’ ‘What if Ramsay’s hunting dogs caught you?’ The endless possibilities of horrific events occurring led you to not realise you were being followed until it was much too late. 

A loud cough drew your attention from the tapestry you were admiring and towards the all-too-familiar figure stood behind you, cornering you against the wall. “My lord!” You squeaked, terrified that you had been caught, although the fact that it was not Ramsay brought a semblance of peace to you. “My lady?” He responded, clearly awaiting an explanation. “Apologies my lord, sleep evaded me and I only wished to explore the keep.” You explained, praying to all the gods that he would believe the truth. He hummed in reply, silently offering you his arm. Hesitantly, you took it and the two of you began to walk. 

“My chambers.” He finished, positioning himself in front of the door. “Your chambers?” You asked, your mother having explained very little of married life to you. “You shall reside elsewhere, I shall visit you then retire here.” He explained, causing you to deflate slightly. “Yes my lord.” You forced a smile onto your face as you were escorted back to your own chambers. 

It was only two days after your exploration that you were to be married, you suspected your inferred attempted escape caused your betrothed to hasten the ceremony. “I am afraid Sansa.” You whispered hoarsely as you fastened your hair. “I know.” She murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the two of you having grown exponentially closer in your shared captivity. “Do you think there will be a bedding ceremony?” You choked out, fear in your eyes at the thought. “I do not believe Lord Bolton is the sharing kind.” Sansa grimaced, her words giving you little comfort. The door opened quickly afterwards to reveal your husband-to-be. 

“Leave us.” He ordered Sansa, who shot you a worried glance before doing so knowing it would only end badly for the both of you if she were to refuse. “My lord?” You asked, taking a deep breath as your hands began to shake slightly. “You look divine, my lady.” He murmured, his eyes running up and down your figure shamelessly. “My lord?” You questioned, taken aback at his words. “Just because I am cruel does not mean I do not know how to compliment a beautiful woman when I see one, let alone when that woman is to be my wife.” He whispered, taking several steps into your personal space. Much to your disgust, you flushed slightly at his words, causing a grin to spread across his face. “Will there be a bedding ceremony my lord?” You asked, absolutely terrified at the prospect. “I shall let no man but me see my wife tonight or any other.” He replied, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips almost tenderly. 

You do not know why your stomach was doing flips, or why your heart was pounding, nor why you were excited as you made your way down the aisle towards your betrothed. You should have been scared, trying to run, and yet there was a strange pleasure that filled you as you locked eyes with Roose Bolton. 

“I do.” Your soon-to-be husband announced as the two of you stood before the weirwood tree, his cloak resting on your shoulders. “I do.” You repeated, trying to suppress the smile that was threatening to cover your lips. “Then you may kiss the bride.” The officiant announced, taking a step to the side as you nervously turned to face your husband. He had to bend slightly to reach your lips but as the kiss continued you soon found yourself loving every moment of it, Roose Bolton being so clearly more experienced than you took control easily. He seemed almost reluctant to break away from you but as the onlookers stared at the two of you, you understood why- he was excited. 

You were sat beside Lord Bolton, nervously fiddling with the skin by your nails, picking until they bled slightly- a nervous trait you got from your mother. Suddenly, you felt one of your hands being taken in another. Silently, your husband held your hand in his lap, stroking the back of it with his thumb as he stared forwards at the feast. Flushing slightly, you pulled the cloak closer around your shoulders, enjoying the vague smell of him that stuck to the fabric. 

At some point in the evening, your husband left the room, having been called to seemingly urgent business. Suddenly, the sound of a very drunk northern lord met your ears as he climbed atop one of the tables closest to yours and bellowed about the impending bedding ceremony. Immediately there was a storm of men that ran towards you, their hands pulling at your dress in an attempt to rip the fabric from your body. You refused to cry at first, not wanting anyone to see you in such a vulnerable state, yet when you felt a hand reach under your skirts and attempt to remove your clothing undergarments first you couldn’t help the tears from falling down your cheeks. Still you remained strong, resisting the urge to scream for help until you watched the man whose hand was still pulling at your skirts begin to lift them up and slide himself underneath them for a better viewpoint. “Roose!” You shouted, stumbling away from the man attempting to get between your legs only for him to grab onto the fabric of your skirt. Horrified, you froze as a loud ripping noise met your ears and a cold breeze met your thighs. Your eyes suddenly fell upon Sansa’s own as she stared at you, her hands shaking and her eyes tearing up as she watched, helpless to do anything. ‘Find my husband’ you quickly mouthed at her before your attention was taken by even more hands pulling at your neckline this time. It must have only been seconds before you were screaming for your husband again, this time actually fleeing the men as you did so. As you heard yet another rip in the fabric, you suddenly bolted to the other side of the hall, cowering behind one of the tables as the swarm of now angry men chased after you. “Roose!” You screamed, begging the gods to save you from the same torment your mother endured and sent you here to save you from. “Stop!” A familiar voice sounded as the doors to the hall flew open with a resounding smash. “Anyone touching my wife shall have their hands removed and any man looking upon her shall have his eyes removed and fed to him.” Your husband bellowed, speeding towards you as every single man surrounding you quickly backed away and turned their backs. You remained on the floor, pulling your knees to your chin as your body continued to shake as sobs left your lips. “You are safe now.” You heard Roose murmur, his arms wrapping under your legs and back before he lifted you in his arms and quickly left the hall. 

The walk to his room was quick, in your slightly delirious state you mused he must be running down the corridors but those thoughts were interrupted as he opened the doors and slipped inside, cradling you to his chest. “How are you feeling?” He asked after a few moments of silence, the two of you sat on the edge of his bed. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, favouring the stone floor, as you continued to silently cry, still shaking. “I apologise for leaving you alone, there was an incident that required my attention. I did not believe any of them foolish enough to attempt what they did.” He continued, moving slowly to stand in front of you. Gently, he brought both his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks and carefully tilting your face to look at him. “Forgive me.” He spoke, pressing an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead before moving to leave, “I shall leave you tonight, I don’t think it right to-” He began before his speech was halted by your hand grabbing his wrist, frantic eyes meeting his own. “Stay, please.” You whispered, voice shaky and unstable from the tears still streaming down your cheeks, “I am scared they’ll come back.” You whispered, hesitantly removing your shaking hand from your husband’s arm. “None would dare, but if it is what you wish.” Roose replied, taking your hands firmly in his own. “It is.” You returned, the hints of a smile spreading onto your lips.

A/N: I am absolutely delusional and do not condone his actions in the books or series (man traumatised me with those flayings and the red wedding)

[anemoxlys]

Hi! Someone who studies classics here!

This is correct girls would take on the female version of their fathers name in Ancient Rome.

Julius Caesar’s daughter was called Julia and Cicero’s daughter was called Tulia (Marcus Tullius Cicero).

Moreover, ancient Roman names have a very specific order of

1. Given name

2. Family name

3. Nickname

Publius (given name- think modern day first name)

Clodius (family Clodii)

Pulcher (meaning handsome)

Full name: Publius Clodius Pulcher - Roman politician c.93-53bc

Marcus (given name)

Aurelius (family Aurelii)

Antonius (meaning highly praiseworthy)

Augustus (title given to every emperor after Augustus’ rule which ended c.14ce with his death and deification)

Full name: Marcus Aurelius Antonius Augustus (emperor of Rome c.121-180ce and writer of philosophy such as his ‘Meditations’)

It’s been a while since I’ve study Ancient Rome,but to all my fanfic girlies who are writing OC’s for Gladiator II, if I remember correctly girls would have a feminine form of their fathers name.

[anemoxlys]

For those who aren’t aware of the events yesterday

shout out to everyone in south korea who went to bed early last night

[anemoxlys]

NAVIGATION

“Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing.”

    ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

―  eighteen. she/her. bisexual. sagittarius. call me moxy

the band ghost, dracula, ‘06 baby, twisted sister, sevika’s wife, dorian gray, carmilla, gypsophila, dark chocolate, miss dior perfume, greek mythology, arcane

Only account

No dividers / barriers are mine unless stated so, all are sourced from Tumblr

If you leave hate it’s an instant block, no reply, no gracing you with a response just blocked 🖤

Masterlist

Recommended Authors

Recent works:

What I want (Aemond x reader)

Mihawk x reader

Lioness (Tywin Lannister x reader)

Fandoms

Game of Thrones

House of the Dragon

Arcane

Call of Duty (reading and writing only)

Baulder's Gate 3

Lord of the Rings

The Hobbit

Castlevania

DC

The Band Ghost

will write for anyone in these fandoms, feel free to ask for anyone 

“But in the end it's only a passing thing, this shadow; even darkness must pass.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings