#Queen of Horror {Author Notes}

[hauntedxwritings]

Alright this is a starter call. Active Canon Muses: Chucky Tiffany Huntress Meg Thomas Mikaela Reid Deathslinger {Caleb} Edith Cushing Otis Driftwood Nancy Wheeler Steve Harrington Eddie Munson Max Mayfield Jim Hopper Joyce Byers Lydia Deetz Buffy Summers Sabrina Spellman Persephone Montana Montgomery

Active OC Muses: Chastity Azazael Morningstar Pandora Sonillion

[lesbianpepsi]

sweet like cinnamon

pairing: jenna ortega x blind!fem!reader

summary: you fell in love with her voice years before you fell in love with her.

link to request

series masterlist

words: 2.619k

warnings: reader makes blind jokes?, light swearing, bad writing

authors note: this isn't my best work which i heavily apologise for, life has been a real mess lately and i just haven't been enjoying it at all🫠🫠

Nobody in this world has the same voice; nobody. Some might have similar sounding voices but nobody's is identical.

You didn't really notice that until you were fifteen years old, the young tragic age you turned blind. You were the one in a million that was born with thrombophilia (blood clotting disorder) which resulted in you getting vessel occlusion in your eyes, making you slowly become more blind as the years passed until it completely vanished. 

It was horrible in the beginning, to tell the truth but as the years passed the more you got used to being blind and the more you became okay with it. 

The one thing you didn't appreciate enough when you had sight was people's voices. When that was the only thing that could help you detect who was talking to you, you became entranced by peoples voices. 

The soft spoken people, the gruffly sounding people, the neutral sounding people. You loved hearing people's voices, but there was one voice you had completely fell entranced to, like a pirate to a sirens mystical voice. 

A actresses voice. 

You have never heard such a soft and relaxing voice before in your entire life. It was as sweet as honey; warming your heart as a smile played on your lips whenever you heard the voice.

The first time you heard her voice was when you were sixteen, your friend had invited you over to watch a random horror movie 'The Babysitter: Killer Queen.' 

In honesty you didn't enjoy the movie at all, finding it boring and annoying at times. But one thing compelled you into watching it; one voice. 

The voice of the character Phoebe who was played by 'America's It Girl' Jenna Ortega. 

Her voice was so soft spoken yet it had that gentle raspiness to it that captured all of your attention, her calming voice soothing you in a way that even surprised you. 

You were utterly fixated on it. 

After that day you proceeded to find out what other movies she had been in, listening to them all at least once.

The more movies you listened to, the more you became in awe of the calming voice of Jenna Ortega.

As you grew up, your fangirl behaviour died down. You didn't religiously listen to her voice as you did in your teens, but you'd never forget her sweet voice. 

—————

"C'mon Yelena." You whispered to your guide dog, the grip to her harness in your left hand while your right hand was occupied with your mobility cane, running it along the pavement as you walked down the street, the golden retriever leading you towards your favourite cafe. 

It was a warm Thursday morning, the sun shined brightly over the town you lived in, warming you up as you walked down the quiet street.

You didn't have a particularly busy day that day, so you decided to head down to the local cafe. 

The place was a family run cafe that you absolutely adored for a myriad of reasons. Its loving atmosphere, the best coffee you ever had and your own signature booth at the corner of the cafe. 

It was honestly like your second home at this point.

As you rounded the final corner you smiled to yourself and walked over the one crooked step on the sidewalk, remembering exactly where it was like the back of your hand.

With a few more steps you felt Yelena slow down as she prepared to face the cafe door, you smiled down at her as you gave her a quick pat before you pushed the door open, the familiar ring reaching your ears as you entered the cafe. 

You and Yelena walked over to the booth in the corner with a smile on both of your lips. As you reached the booth you loosened your grip on Yelena's harness, knowing you'd be okay without her and the fact she was an extremely well behaved dog.

Leaning your cane against the corner booth seat, sighing as you listened to the sound that filled your ears.

Idle chatter heard was the first thing you could hear the second being low music that played throughout the cafe, a Taylor Swift song that you didn't know the title of. 

As you focused even further you suddenly heard quiet breathing from the booth. You snapped your head instantly in the direction of the noise, flushing red with embarrassment.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't know someone was in the booth." You rushed out slightly embarrassed, not expecting someone in so early and in the booth.

A quiet whimsical laugh filled your ears, you tilted your head to the side. You knew that laugh, it sounded so familiar.

"No it's my fault for not saying anything before, I'm really sorry." The woman apologised back, a small laugh still noticeable in her voice.

Your eyes widened dramatically behind your thick black sunglasses, you definitely knew that voice. 

As you tried not to physically explode when you realised Jenna Ortega was sitting in front of you, you rubbed the back of your neck as you smiled crookedly.

"I should've asked if someone was here, nobody's usually at this booth, especially this early in the morning." You explained to her as you clicked your fingers, Yelena swiftly moved to your side, her harness already between your fingers.

"Honestly you don't have to apologise, we can share the booth if you'd like?" She offered in a honey sweet voice, her voice enchanting you as it did when you were sixteen.

You honestly couldn't believe your absolute luck, I mean it's not everyday you'd run into Jenna fucking Ortega. 

Loosening your grip on Yelena's harness you gave an eager nod to her, smiling brightly. "Yeah that sounds great." You told her as you slowly sat down, Yelena moving to sit down on the floor next to you.

"I'm Jenna." She says, you smile at her as you extend your hand to her direction. "Pleasure to meet you Jenna, I'm Y/n." 

Her soft hand met yours as she gave it a gentle shake, her fingers having a strong yet a gentle grip on your hand. It was as if electricity coursed through your veins the moment her palm connected with yours, tingling your entire body from your fingertips to your ears.

Your and Jenna's hands lingered there for longer than any handshake should be, as if both of you didn't want to take your hands back. 

Slowly, you and the brunette did eventually pull away as you smiled nervously at her, still heavily intimidated that you were currently sitting in a cafe with Jenna Ortega.

"Are you a regular here?" She asked once the two of you had duly pulled away, her hand grasping around her mug. You nodded your head as you smiled softly. "Yeah I've been coming here for years. You?"

Jenna smiled at you as she sipped her coffee, a gentle smile toying on her lips. "I just found this place a few months ago and have been coming here at least two times a week ever since then. I've never seen you here before though."

You snorted out a laugh. "I've definitely not seen you." 

Jenna stumbled over her words as she let out a nervous laugh, not knowing how to respond to your joke. Most people didn't know how to react whenever you made a joke about your blindness. They'd always get flustered as if they'd offend you if they'd laugh at your joke. 

"You can laugh, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't want you to laugh." At that Jenna finally let out a genuine laugh, not a nervous awkward laugh people do when they don't know whether to laugh or not.

Your heart fluttered in your chest the same way it did when you were sixteen as you heard her laugh, it still being one of the most heavenly things you had ever heard. 

As her laughter died down Jenna was leaning on her hand as she gazed at your features, a smitten smile already on her face.

"Why've you been coming here for years?" Jenna asked curiously, her sole focus still on you. You purse your lips momentarily as you think of an actual reason. "Well, I've been told the place is beautiful and they serve the best cinnamon latte I've ever tasted." 

Jenna grinned as her eyes flickered down to her drink, a cinnamon latte; her favourite.

"Is that your favourite?" She voiced as her slender fingers wrapped around the warm mug. You nodded your head with your own smile on your lips. "Yeah, been my favourite forever. The ones here are just so strong it beats any other cafe." 

Jenna hummed as she sipped her latte. "That I agree with." 

 You grinned at her as you felt more relaxed with the entire situation, relaxing into your chair as you listened intently to her.

Footsteps were heard coming in your direction, light but they were still noticeable. You moved your head in the direction of the footsteps as you smiled, you already knew who it was from the footsteps.

"Nance, great to hear you again." You greeted her with a grin, the old woman cackled as she arrived at your booth.

"Y/n, my favourite customer. How've you been, dear?" She asked as she bent down to place the dog bowl full of cold water and a few ice cubes for Yelena, the golden dog greedily began slurping away at the beverage the moment it touched the ground.

You nodded your head weakly. "Mediocre but much better now since I arrived here." Nancy let out a quick chuckle as she shook her head. "One cinnamon latte, I'm guessing?"

"You know me too well." You answered with a smile as you turned back to face the woman sitting across from you. 

"You want another one, Jen?" She asked as she turned to face her; Jenna nodded her head with a polite smile on her face. "Please."

Nancy nodded her head as she scribbled away on her christmas notepad. "Two cinnamon lattes for the two lovely ladies. Enjoy your date girls." She said with a mischievous grin that only Jenna witnessed before she turned away to go make your drinks.

You blushed heavily, looking down as you hoped Jenna wouldn't notice it. Little did you know Jenna herself had a soft blush that tainted her cheeks beautifully.

Coughing, you covered your hand with your mouth as you picked your head back up, your face facing Jenna's. 

"Great minds think alike?" 

Jenna laughed lightly as she looked at you in awe. "Only the greatest."

You quickly realised that conversation between you and Jenna flowed by swiftly. 

Jenna eventually did bring up the fact she was a well known actress, to which you simply replied with what you knew. 

She was slightly surprised but it didn't change how she spoke to you, and it never changed for you once.

Both you were so lost in your own small world in the corner of the cafe neither of you even noticed how much time had passed. 

As you were telling her the story of how you almost died twice in the same holiday her phone rang loudly, interrupting you quite rudely. 

Jenna groaned as she glanced at the screen, her face souring as she noticed her time with you was up.

"It's my manager, probably wondering where I am." She explained as she declined the call, clicking the 'Sorry, I can't call right now.' option as she shoved her phone into her pocket.

You exhaled as your fingers played with the empty mug in front of you. "Duty calls?" 

Jenna frowned as she nodded her head, growing the urge to throw her phone out the window as she felt the low vibrations of the text messages from her boss. 

"Unfortunately." She grumbled as she looked at her half empty cup of latte. You smirked at her as you stopped moving your fingers. "What, you don't wanna leave me or something?" 

"Nah, I just don't wanna go listen to my manager yap for hours." 

"Wow, being mean to a blind woman? I'll cancel you for that, Ms Ortega." You remarked with a playful smile, chuckling yourself. 

Jenna shook her head amused as she ignored the onslaught of messages from her manager.

"Cancel me? Oh no, what could I do to make you rethink your decisions?" Jenna asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she lifted her mug to take another sip of her drink.

Your mouth was running much faster than your mind, before you could even process the words coming out of your mouth you replied back to her in a confident voice.

"Take me out on a date." You answered in lightning speed with a nervous smile, a blush appeared on your cheeks moments after you noticed what you said. 

Jenna was silent for a moment, in that small moment your confidence was easily diminished as your fear began increasing as fast as your heart beat. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from. I know we just met and I probably just made you really uncomfortable." You apologised as you tilted your  head down.

"Y/n." Jenna said.

You ignored her as you kept apologising to her, you had already convinced yourself she was going to reject you and thought you were weird.

"I honestly don't know what came over me, I probably just ruined any small potential of a friendship we could've had by that." You carried on apologising, unaware of the delighted smile on Jenna's face.

"Y/n." She said with a more firm tone, her voice raised to steal your attention. Gingerly you lifted your head, that scarlet red hue still tainted your cheeks. 

"I'd love to go on a date with you." Jenna exclaimed in her sweet voice that practically made your nervous frown flip into a boisterous smile. 

"Really?" You asked in disbelief. 

Jenna laughed as she nodded her head, her smile so wide she was showing her pearly whites to the world. 

"Really." She confirmed as she lowered her empty mug, placing it next to yours. "I'd love nothing more if I'm being honest."

You beamed at her words, your heart never calmed down as you still couldn't believe Jenna Ortega said she wanted to go on a date with you.

Abruptly, Jenna's phone rang loudly once again, making you and Jenna annoyed at the distribution. 

"Can I have your number?" Jenna asked you as she ignored the ringing, you nodded your head eagerly. 

"Oh thank god you asked for it, I was so scared you were gonna say something like 'fate will  bring us together again.'" You replied as you took out your phone from your pocket, passing it over to Jenna.

She giggled as she looked for your number on your phone. "You don't believe in fate or something?"

You shook your head. "Oh no, I  believe in fate. I just don't think fate would let me magically see you and spot you in public." You joked as Jenna began entering her own number into your phone after she was done with hers. 

Jenna didn't say anything as she chuckled quietly, passing your phone back to you.

"I really have to leave now, otherwise my manager will actually send a team looking for me." Jenna apologised with a sigh. You laughed softly as you smiled as softly at her.

"I'll call you?" She asked as you heard her shuffle out of her side of the booth. Your head followed the movement of the noise, nodding your head with a smile. 

"I'll be waiting." 

"I won't make you wait too long." 

—————

a/n: fun fact, i fucking hate cinnamon with a passion

[glamnessaaumisc]

FNAF/Banban Shitpost

Based on something @aarcade said when they were streaming Garten Banban IV in a Discord VC.

Update: They played Garten of Banban VI when it came out as well. I will hide a long-ass (and VERY cringe) text post regarding my opinions about the game (re: 95% about Bittergiggle) underneath a read-more link.

In my opinion, the game was pretty much what I expected from a Banban game. However, Bittergiggle is such an unexpectedly amazing and complex character coming from a game that only a four-year-old could enjoy. Not only does his voice actor stand above the rest of Banban's voice cast, but he has a really great motivation behind his actions, and you can understand why he does everything he does, both good and bad.

In Garten of Banban IV, Bittergiggle is established as a character whose raison d'etre is his comedy career. He was, quite literally, born to be funny. However, the world he was thrust into prohibits him from making any jokes whatsoever lest it literally be destroyed. This is so because Queen Bouncelia, the de-facto ruler of some LARP-kingdom underneath the kindergarten, holds the "Naughty Ones" at bay within her pouch and may accidentally let them loose, should she ever laugh. (Did I mention Banban's story is stupid af?) Thus, Bittergiggle is ostracized from the Kingdom by Sheriff Toadster, forced to take his comedy career even more underground than it already is. Due to this ostracization, he begins to question the notion that the Queen's laughter could lay waste to the Kingdom and even rebels against Toadster's self-assigned and often overreaching authority. (Note: Toadster is technically in the right by preventing Bittergiggle from getting to the Queen, but he also arrested most of the original cast of Garten of Banban for seemingly no reason at all. He's kind of like a Discord/Reddit moderator who flexes his authority by being a tyrannical prick.)

But eventually, Bittergiggle finally does it, the madman! He makes the Queen laugh...but that end-of-the-world conspiracy he denied so vehemently is proven to be true! The Naughty Ones escape and lay waste to the land he called home. When you next meet Bittergiggle in Garten of Banban VI, he apologizes profusely for his lack of foresight and pledges to help you out with fixing the problem he created. His life starts turning around. He gets together with some other characters - Banban, Nabnab, and Kittysaurus (I am losing brain cells) to name a few - and goes on a quest to find the Queen's scepter, which IIRC is a weapon that can combat the Naughty Ones or something like that. He even gets an audience to listen to his jokes! That's right, in one part of the game, Bittergiggle admits to you that he sometimes says his jokes aloud and the Naughty Ones laugh at them from the darkness. It makes him really happy, and he feels as if he is finally fulfilling his life's purpose. In fact, his newfound audience makes him so happy that at the end of the game when you're escaping the leader of the Naughty Ones, he stays behind because he wants to keep his audience and continue to fulfill his purpose.

The next (and last at the time of writing) time you see Bittergiggle is in the ending cutscene of Garten of Banban VI. The Naughty Ones' laughter was but a ruse, and when he embraced his "audience" they corrupted him and turned him into their thrall. Truly, Bittergiggle is the most tragic and well-written character in the content-farm-friendly clusterfuck that is Garten of Banban.

My IQ dropped into the single digits when I was writing this, and I hope yours does the same as you read my incoherent rambling about the worst mascot horror series.

[vermilionsun]

This post translates directly to @musas-sideblog's about how Touchstarved ties with Victorian horror and implicit/metaphorical sex, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so here is a lengthy theory. Enjoy :)

Note 1: Victorian era authors used an unholy amount of ways to imply sexual feelings/acts etc, so I here I will include only the ones that are of interest. Note 2: I've highlighted the "most important" parts. Note 3: I'm not an expert at this, so please bear with me and feel free to correct me. Note 4: Do I need to add a TW? I think it's obvious-

Overview: What is Victorian Horror?

Victorian horror refers to the genre of horror literature, art, and culture that flourished during the Victorian era, roughly from the mid-19th century to the early 20th century, coinciding with Queen Victoria's reign from 1837 to 1901. This period was marked by a fascination with the macabre, the supernatural, and the dark aspects of human nature, reflecting the anxieties and societal changes of the time. 

Key Themes and Characteristics

Supernatural Elements:

Ghosts and Spirits: Tales of haunted houses and spectral apparitions were central to Victorian horror. Charles Dickens's "A Christmas Carol" (1843) and Henry James's "The Turn of the Screw" (1898) are notable examples.

Monsters and the Gothic: The era's literature is filled with monstrous creations and gothic settings, such as in Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" (1818), Bram Stoker's "Dracula" (1897), and Robert Louis Stevenson's "Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde" (1886).

Science and the Unknown:

The Victorian period was a time of great scientific advancement, but also of fear about the implications of these discoveries. This is evident in works that explore the dangers of unchecked scientific experimentation, like "Frankenstein" and H.G. Wells's "The Island of Doctor Moreau" (1896).

Exploration of the Human Psyche:

Victorian horror often delved into the darker aspects of the human mind, including themes of duality, madness, and the hidden, sinister side of human nature. This is seen in "Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde" and Edgar Allan Poe’s works, such as "The Tell-Tale Heart" (1843).

Social and Moral Anxieties:

The literature frequently reflected Victorian society's fears and anxieties, including issues related to sexuality, class, and the role of women. Gothic novels often contained subtexts about societal norms and the consequences of transgressing them.

Urban Fear and Isolation:

The rapid urbanisation of the Victorian era contributed to themes of isolation, alienation, and fear of the crowded yet lonely cityscape. This is evident in the settings of many horror stories, such as Arthur Machen's "The Great God Pan" (1894).

Sexual Content: Victorian literature is renowned for its strict moral codes and conservative views on sexuality. Explicit depictions of sexual activity were considered taboo and were subject to censorship. Consequently, authors developed subtle and nuanced methods to imply sexual scenes or themes.

Literary Techniques for Implying Sexual Scenes

✧ Symbolism and Imagery:

Sexuality was often conveyed through symbolic imagery. Objects, actions, or natural phenomena could serve as metaphors for sexual activity or desire. For example, in "Dracula" by Bram Stoker, blood and biting symbolise sexual penetration and the exchange of bodily fluids, infusing the act with a sense of forbidden desire and eroticism.

Clothing and Undress:

Gloves: In Victorian culture, gloves were highly symbolic. The act of a woman removing her gloves in the presence of a man, or a man assisting her in this act, could signify a moment of intimacy or vulnerability. Similarly, a man giving a woman his gloves could be a sign of affection or a deeper connection.

Hats and Bonnets:

Corsets

Objects and Personal Items:

Locks of Hair

Jewellery

Books and Letters

Touch and Physical Contact:

Kissing Hands

Hand-Holding

Food and Drink:

Wine: Sharing wine or a meal in an intimate setting often suggested a prelude to deeper connection. Descriptions of characters drinking wine together in private could imply a romantic or sexual undertone.

Fruit: Certain fruits, like apples, grapes, or peaches, were laden with sexual symbolism. Eating or sharing fruit could represent temptation or indulgence. For instance, in Christina Rossetti’s poem "Goblin Market", the act of eating the goblin fruit is rich with sexual symbolism.

Flora and Fauna

Flowers and Gardens:

Roses: Roses were often used to symbolise love and passion. A red rose might suggest romantic or sexual attraction, while a wilted rose could imply lost innocence or sexual ruin.

Lilies: Lilies, especially white ones, represented purity but could also suggest a contrasting theme when associated with a fallen or tarnished character.

Garden Settings: Scenes set in secluded gardens or amongst lush, overgrown vegetation often hinted at secret or forbidden encounters. Descriptions of characters wandering through or tending to gardens could imply sexual exploration or awakening.

Flowers Blooming or Opening:  The blooming of flowers often represented sexual awakening or the act of losing one's virginity.

Nature Imagery:

Rivers and Water: Flowing water and rivers often symbolised sexual desire and the act of lovemaking. For instance, in "Tess of the d'Urbervilles" by Thomas Hardy, Tess's encounter with Alec d'Urberville is often described with metaphors of nature and fluidity.

Storms and Weather: Storms, with their intense energy and sudden outbursts, were frequently used to symbolise sexual passion or climactic moments.

Birds and Beasts:

Animals, especially those that are wild or predatory, often symbolised primal sexual instincts and desires. The taming or interaction with these animals could imply a character’s grappling with their own sexuality.

Fire and Heat

✧ Phrases and Sayings

Euphemistic Language

Descriptive Phrasing

Dialogue and Confessions

Private Spaces:

Secluded or Dimly Lit Rooms: Scenes set in private, darkened rooms often suggested clandestine sexual encounters. The privacy of the setting allows authors to imply what could not be explicitly stated. In Wilkie Collins’s "The Woman in White", many key interactions happen in secluded spaces, hinting at secrets and hidden desires.

Dreams and Fantasies:

Dream Sequences:

Dreams and fantasies were used to explore a character’s subconscious desires and fears, often revealing their suppressed sexual longings. These sequences provided a socially acceptable way to delve into erotic themes.

Hallucinations and Madness:

Moments of madness or hallucination could serve as a metaphor for overwhelming passion or uncontrollable sexual desire. These states allowed characters to express forbidden feelings in a way that was metaphorically safe.

Physical Interactions and Horror

Touch and Proximity as Menace:

Unwanted or Forced Touch: In horror, touch that is typically a sign of affection or intimacy becomes a source of fear.

Physical Closeness in Horror Settings: Close proximity in dark, secluded places amplifies the sense of claustrophobia and vulnerability, turning what could be an intimate setting into one fraught with terror.

Undress and Exposure in Horror:

Loosening Corsets and Vulnerability: The act of undressing or loosening clothing, which can be a prelude to intimacy, in horror often leaves characters vulnerable to attack or exposure of their deepest fears.

Food and Consumption in Horror

Cannibalism and Vampirism:

Blood as Sexual and Vital Fluid: The act of consuming blood, as in vampirism, blends the themes of sustenance and sexual exchange. The vampire's bite becomes a metaphor for both sexual penetration and the transfer of life force.

Example: "Dracula" is a prime example where blood consumption is deeply eroticized, with Dracula’s victims often portrayed in a state of ecstatic submission as he drains their blood.

Food as a Lure: Food and feasting, typically symbols of pleasure and indulgence, in horror contexts can be used to lure victims into dangerous situations.

Example: In "Goblin Market" by Christina Rossetti, the goblins’ fruit is both irresistibly tempting and dangerous, representing a forbidden and potentially fatal indulgence.

Plot and Character Dynamics in Horror

Power and Domination:

Common Dynamics with a Dark Twist

Predators and Victims: Characters who prey on others are often literal monsters in horror, representing the loss of control or innocence.

Secrecy and Concealment:

Hidden Desires and Monstrous Revelations: Characters who conceal their true identities or desires often find these hidden aspects manifesting as monstrous or terrifying in horror narratives, suggesting that repression can lead to dire consequences.

Clandestine Meetings and Forbidden Encounters: Secret meetings and forbidden relationships, often tinged with sexual implications, add an element of danger and fear, suggesting that transgressing social norms leads to horror.

Common Themes in Victorian Horror

Duality and the Doppelgänger:

Theme: The concept of duality, where a character has a hidden, darker side, or encounters a double (doppelgänger), often symbolises the internal conflict between good and evil within individuals.

Connection: This theme reflects Victorian anxieties about identity, morality, and the consequences of repressing one’s darker impulses.

Gothic and Supernatural Elements:

Theme: Victorian horror is rich with Gothic elements such as haunted houses, dark landscapes, and supernatural beings. These elements create a sense of dread and evoke the mysteries of the unknown.

Connection: The Gothic setting often serves as a backdrop for exploring human fears, isolation, and the impact of the supernatural on everyday life.

Decay and Degeneration:

Theme: The fear of decay and degeneration, both physical and moral, is a recurring motif. This theme often examines the decline of individuals, families, or societies and the consequences of corruption and vice.

Connection: This theme mirrors Victorian concerns about the erosion of social and moral values amidst rapid industrial and social changes.

Madness and Psychological Horror:

Theme: The exploration of madness and psychological horror delves into the fragility of the human mind and the terror of losing one's sanity. This often includes hallucinations, obsessions, and the thin line between reality and delusion.

Connection: This theme resonates with Victorian fears of mental illness, the limitations of medical knowledge, and the impact of societal pressures on mental health.

Forbidden Knowledge and the Faustian Bargain:

Theme: The pursuit of forbidden knowledge and the resulting consequences is a central theme. Characters who seek power, immortality, or forbidden truths often pay a heavy price, reminiscent of the Faustian bargain.

Connection: This theme highlights Victorian anxieties about scientific progress, moral boundaries, and the potential hubris of human ambition.

The Uncanny and the Unknown:

Theme: The uncanny involves the strange and unfamiliar becoming eerily familiar, often unsettling the reader and characters. It blurs the lines between reality and the supernatural, invoking fear and discomfort.

Connection: This theme taps into Victorian fears of the unknown, the foreign, and the otherworldly, reflecting broader anxieties about social and cultural boundaries.

Death and the Afterlife:

Theme: Victorian horror frequently grapples with themes of death and the afterlife, exploring the fear of mortality, the possibility of an afterlife, and encounters with the dead or undead.

Connection: These themes reflect Victorian preoccupations with death, the spiritual realm, and the possibility of life beyond death, often intensified by the era's high mortality rates and interest in spiritualism.

Isolation and Alienation:

Theme: Isolation and alienation are prevalent themes, often highlighting characters who are physically or emotionally detached from society, leading to their vulnerability and descent into despair or madness.

Connection: This theme resonates with the Victorian experience of industrialization and urbanization, which often led to feelings of disconnection and loneliness.

Class and Social Anxiety:

Theme: Victorian horror often explores themes of class and social anxiety, including the fear of losing social status, the consequences of poverty, and the tension between different social classes.

Connection: This theme reflects the rigid class structures of Victorian society and the fears and tensions that arose from social mobility and economic disparity.

Moral Corruption and Hypocrisy:

Theme: Victorian horror frequently critiques the era’s moral standards and exposes the hypocrisy of societal norms. Characters who appear virtuous often harbor dark secrets or engage in morally dubious activities.

Connection: This theme mirrors the Victorian concern with appearances and the underlying tension between public propriety and private desires.

The Five Pillars of Victorian Horror & The Five Love Interests

The Supernatural and the Gothic (Ais)

Essence: Victorian horror often revolves around the supernatural, blending Gothic elements to evoke a sense of dread and otherworldly terror. This includes ghosts, vampires, haunted houses, and curses, which create an atmosphere where the boundaries between the natural and the supernatural blur.

Impact: The use of Gothic settings and supernatural phenomena provides a backdrop for exploring deeper themes of fear, mortality, and the unknown.

Psychological Depth and Madness (Vere)

Essence: Victorian horror delves into the complexities of the human mind, exploring themes of madness, obsession, and the psychological effects of fear and trauma. Characters often grapple with their sanity, facing inner demons as terrifying as any external threat.

Impact: This focus on psychological horror allows for a deeper exploration of character motivations and the impact of societal pressures.

Moral Corruption and the Double Life (Leander)

Essence: Themes of moral corruption and the duality of human nature are central to Victorian horror. Characters often lead double lives, presenting a veneer of respectability while concealing dark, sinful secrets. This tension between outward appearances and hidden truths reflects the era’s social hypocrisy and fear of scandal.

Impact: These themes critique Victorian society’s emphasis on propriety and the dangerous consequences of repressing one’s true nature. The idea of a double life or hidden self adds to the horror by suggesting that evil can reside within anyone, masked by a facade of normalcy.

Decay, Degeneration, and Disease (Kuras)

Essence: The themes of physical and moral decay, societal degeneration, and disease permeate Victorian horror. These motifs symbolise the fragility of human life and the inevitability of decline, reflecting the anxieties of a society grappling with rapid change and uncertain futures.

Impact: By focusing on decay and degeneration, Victorian horror underscores the transient nature of life and the ever-present threat of corruption and decline, whether through ageing, moral compromise, or societal breakdown.

Isolation and Alienation (Mhin)

Essence: Isolation and alienation are pervasive themes in Victorian horror, often depicted through characters who are physically or emotionally cut off from society. This separation heightens their vulnerability to external threats and internal fears.

Impact: Isolation serves to intensify the psychological tension and sense of dread, as characters confront their fears alone. It also reflects the era’s social and existential anxieties, including the fear of being disconnected or outcast from society.

Generally, I believe each LI connects with a pillair (as seen above). Perhaps by looking at the archetypes we could deduce propable endings and route elements.

Forgive me, for the following part is MESSY;

Ais

Vere

Leander

Kuras

Mhin

[pockeymcmockey]

𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 | 𝓐𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷

Summary: After Aemond takes the eye of his niece as revenge, he realizes he's made a mistake he may never get to fix...

Warnings: Angst, violence, blood, major injuries, ages follow the show and not the book, Reader goes by female pronouns, reader is the only child of Rhaenyra and Daemon, conceived during the brothel scene, cute matching moment between Aemond and Reader.

Author's Note: This is the edited version whereas I realized the original did not build as much of a relationship between Aemond and Reader as I would've liked. I hope this is much better to read!

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑ | 𝔑𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱

A belching roar echoed throughout the stone walkway. Aemond's hand clutched the eye Lucerys attacked using his brother's dagger. Jacaerys stared with wide eyes at his uncle, whom was yet to react in any other way except sob for his missing eye. Guards and handmaidens rushed in at the gargling cry that intruded the quiet halls. Princess [Name] stood, frozen in horror at the act her younger brother has committed.

As the children were gathered in the King's chambers, Rhaenyra and Laenor were quick in their steps to reach their own children. Laenor checked on the boys while Rhaenyra sought out any scars upon her eldest's skin, only to find her unscathed. Rhaenyra held her daughter to her chest and turned to face her father and the Queen.

"What has happened? Why are my children scared out of their minds?" Rhaenyra breathed heavily, scared out of her own mind, worried about her children ending up as corpses one day. This wouldn't be the first time she found herself defending her children, finding that Alicent quite enjoyed trying to push punishment on them, especially her boys.

"Is this how you raise your children, Princess?" Alicent antagonized the Targaryen Princess with mocking words. "Allowing them to strike their own kin because of a beast?" The Queen narrowed her eyes at her former best friend, holding her youngest child close to her chest much like Rhaenyra. Aemond, while in his mother's hold, wouldn't take his stare off of his niece. She was older than him by two years, same age as his older brother, only months apart.

Aemond always had quite the strong feelings for his niece. Since he could remember she was always in the background, braiding his hair, sewing his clothes, fighting his battles. She was a gift from the gods to him. But he didn't want her to fight his battles. In fact, he almost resented her for thinking he was too weak to fight for himself. That resentment bubbled up into hatred, and he could think of nothing but.

Princess Rhaenyra, heir to the Iron Throne, sent her boys back to their respective bedrooms before checking once more that her daughter was unharmed. The younger Princess kept her apologizing gaze on Aemond, brows furrowed and a frown evident on her lips. Her eyes said "I'm sorry" but Aemond could only see pity, blinded by the hatred he grew to have for the girl.

Princess [Name] Targaryen, First of Her Name, returned to her bedchambers to sleep off the frightful events of the night. She found herself having trouble falling into slumber, fluffing up her pillow did not serve to alleviate her insomnia. Out of options—and patience—the princess asked for a bath to be prepared. When the white, pristine tub was displayed in front of her and the handmaids assigned to her aided in her undressing, [Name] sunk into the scolding water that would boil any other man.

The Princess dismissed her handmaidens, wanting isolated time to think upon what has transpired. Silence filled her chambers until a creak of her wooden door alerted her of someone's presence. Aemond stood with his hands behind his back in a defensive stance. His expression was one of true spite, vengeful, even. Before the princess knew what was coming to her, a scar was plastered on her left eye.

Blood slowly seeped out of the jagged wound slashed across her eye. The Princess held a trembling hand over it but the blood kept pouring. She used the undamaged eye in her possession to look up at her uncle, he wore the face of a boy who'd kill for his own greed. He was unfazed by the tears welding up in his niece's eye, or how she whispered his name repeatedly, asking him why he would do such a thing.

"An eye for an eye." Is all he spoke before storming out of her bedchambers to hide in his room. The Princess stood in the tub, droplets of translucency rolling down her figure and back into the mahogany puddle of blood. She used one hand to wrap herself in a robe while the other tried and failed to keep any more blood from spilling out. During her fiasco of dressing as appropriately as she could, Jacaerys and Lucerys both charged into her room.

"Seven Hells!" Lucerys cursed, earning an elbow nudge from his older brother. "What happened to you?" The youngest finally asked. Before the Princess could answer, their mother walked through, wondering why her children were still up. When she saw the damage made to her daughter's eye, the heir lost her resolve and sent a guard for her father.

When the King and Queen enter the Princess' chambers, they both find horrified expressions upon their faces. Rhaenyra sits beside her daughter, holding her protectively as Daemon checks his daughter's eye to see just how much damage his nephew caused. When the Rogue Prince was complete with his task of scanning his daughter, he turned to his brother and the Queen.

"That little cunt of yours blinded my daughter, brother." Daemon rested his weight on his sword, the Dark Sister, before speaking up again, "I'm sure he won't mind being a cripple for the rest of his life. I'll make sure he's still able to use his arms." Daemon chuckled at his own jest. The King raised a hand and shook his crown-bearing head, scolding his younger brother for speaking in such manners, about his own nephew at such.

"I'll personally have a talk with my own son if that's alright with you, dear brother?" Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andal, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm and Prince of Dragonstone, slouched toward his granddaughter. The two Targaryens, Grandsire and granddaughter, had quite a close relationship. Since she was born Viserys has done nothing but spoil her. She had the best than her own brothers.

Rhaenyra asked her father to step outside the chambers with her to discuss the issue at hand. The heir offered to leave for Dragonstone, feeling as the Red Keep is no longer safe for her children anymore. Viserys reluctantly agreed, wanting nothing but safety for his daughter and grandchildren. The Princess Rhaenyra calmly walked back inside the bedchambers of her oldest child, born full Targaryen with platinum hair and violet eyes that could pierce any mans heart with just a look.

The Targaryen heir and her children headed for Dragonstone that night. Just before leaving, [Name] caught the eyes of Aemond whom heard his parents quarrelling about his stunt this evening. Her gown blew behind her from the evening breeze and her hair that glistened like snow under the moonlight made her much better to admire from afar. Aemond looked away and to his hands, clenching them to where his growing finger nails left crescent stab wounds in his palms.

That night, the King and his wife, Alicent Hightower, berated Aemond for committing such a heinous act. The King more visibly upset about it than the Queen, whose only hope was that her son's recklessness wouldn't get him in too much trouble one of these days. Aemond spent the rest of his hours of the night wallowing in regret, knowing he mistook his hatred for Lucerys as his hatred for [Name], acting out on her instead of his attacker.

•⚔•

𝕾𝖎𝖝 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗...

The Princess [Name], given the title "The Princess of Vanity and Vengeance" for her breathtaking Targaryen beauty and the relentless fist she pounds into her enemies. On this day, the princess bares an eyepatch over her eye, hiding the consequence of her moment of weakness. Of course, no one would blame her, she was just a young girl, but the older princess, the one who pierced armour and led armies, would not allow herself to be seen as such any longer.

The eyepatch she wears reminds her of her biggest failure. Failing to protect her family and herself. Would things be different if she had told on her brother? Would she still have her eye? Questions she asks herself everyday hoping she'd somehow, someway, come up with the answer. But for now, she will head to the Red Keep with her parents and brothers. Being the only daughter, and the oldest at that, came with many challenges as men were more hesitant to listen to her than if it were her brother Jacaerys or even Lucerys.

Riding in on dragon-back, [Name] lands her dragon, Llanerion in the center of the courtyard, announcing her presence through actions. The white-bellied, blue scaled dragon shook the grime off his scales and allowed guards to lead him to the Dragonpit. As the Targaryen family entered the Keep, Rhaenyra and Daemon split up, heading toward the King's chambers. The children were made aware of the King's illness but do not know the extent of it which is best left unsaid.

Jacaerys called for his brother and sister to join him on the training grounds, wanting to get some practice in if he is to be King someday. [Name] was offered the role of heir by her mother but has denied that privilege, only wanting to live alongside the King or Queen as a warrior fighting for her people. Her mother had never been more proud of her.

The Princess [Name] noticed a crowd of men circling two others but paid them no mind, offering her helping services to her brother who gladly accepted, knowing his sister was one of the best sword fighters in Westeros. The two eldest children of Rhaenyra stood at attention, their swords crossed in an 'X' position, readying for a match. As their swords began to clink and slice against one another, the attention of the men surrounding Aemond and Ser Criston were redirected to the heir's kin.

[Name] ducked under the blade of her brother and kicked at his calf, knocking him off balance and bringing her sword around to dig into his neck just a bit. "If you are to be King someday, you must know how to outsmart your opponent, Jace." The princess offered her advice to the boy on the receiving end of her blade. Jacaerys huffed and took the hand of his sister who helped him up.

Applause startled the princess when she turned around, only to find the matching eye of her uncle staring at her with an expression unreadable. She glared swords at him and sheathed her own into its holster, climbing the cobble stairs from the training grounds to the halls of the Red Keep. Lucerys and Jacaerys noticed the longing gaze their uncle gave their sister and they followed her actions, narrowing their eyes at the man who ruined their sister's life.

Aemond returned to his chambers after training, removing his eyepatch, noticing how the loss of the eyepatch did little to repair his vision. He smirked at his remembrance of his niece with an eyepatch as well, giving her the benefit of looking almost unnoticeable to the prince. But Aemond knows her eyes, he knows her lips and he wishes he knew her touch but he allowed anger and revenge to cloud his mind. He ruined what he could've had with her and now he may never get another chance.

Taglist

@daddysfavoritesexkitten @dudfahsn @hey-airam @motherofdragons1998 @kittykylax @icarusignite @lilithskywalker @mintyard @omgsuperstarg @pinkybee926 @helloitsshitzulover @bobamai1 @applepyesworld @chrisevansgirlfriendsposts @caspianobsessed @sonnensplitter @sqrlgrl22 @solorubyjane @amethystwonders11 @marytvirgin @aphroditeisamilf @ephemeralninon @fairyunhappy @mikasakuchiki @shine101 @let-love-bleeds-red @zgzgzh @lilostif16 @landlockedmermaid77 @m1ndbrand @grippleback-galaxy @jeyramarie @gaemon-palehair @padfooteyes @bietchz

[cactus-cuddler]

｡☆✼★━━━━𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝━━━━━━━

Natasha Romanoff

x !female reader

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Word count: 1444

Plot: You have been engaged to Natasha Romanoff since your penultimate year of high school and you will get married in a few months. You have only one regret in your entire relationship: not going to the prom because you were afraid to show yourself to the world for who you are.

Genre: romance, fluff

Author Note: English is not my first language so please excuse any grammatical errors/horrors. If you like it let me know and if you have any requests just write to me!

It is a cold and rainy day. You’re in your bed with your girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff, watching your favorite film for the thousandth time. Lying next to each other, she hugs you from behind, gently stroking your head. The warmth of the blankets and the comforting embrace of Natasha from behind make you feel safe and loved. You and Natasha have been engaged since the penultimate year of high school, and now, in a few months, you will be married. You can't wait. The thought of spending your life with Natasha fills you with anticipation and joy, even on dreary days like this.

Just being with Natasha can turn a rough day into a sunny one. The movie, about teenagers having their love story, ends with the prom where the protagonists are crowned “King and Queen of the party.” It reminds you of when you were that age and didn’t attend the prom with your girlfriend because you were afraid. You hadn’t come out yet, and the thought of not being able to kiss or dance with your girlfriend made you decide not to go. This is one of your biggest regrets, you would have liked to be more courageous but you wanted to deprive yourself and your girlfriend of a magical moment.

You look sad, wishing you could have lived that teenage love without hiding. Natasha notices and asks, "is there something wrong?” you just say “no,” shaking your head. What’s important now is that you have the love of your life here with you. She’s not convinced, but she doesn’t insist. She leaves a kiss on your forehead and holds you tighter.

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

You fall asleep before the movie finishes, and Natasha wakes you up.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Natasha teases, gently tickling your nose to rouse you from your slumber. You blink groggily, your eyes meeting hers.

"Good morning, pirozhóchek,” she says, and you melt. This nickname means “little cake.” She loves cake, and she loves you, so you’re her little cake. “Good morning, darling,” you say rubbing your eyes.

“Today we’re going shopping!” she announces.

“You hate shopping,” you remind her.

“I know, but there’s a special dinner with my team, and someone told me I can’t go in my uniform,” she says with a smile. You recognize the hint (you are that someone) and agree to go shopping with her.

After breakfast, you get dressed and head out. Walking hand-in-hand through your little town, you feel at ease knowing everyone now knows about your relationship. The sky is clear, and the sun is shining. You insisted on walking instead of taking the car so you could enjoy the beautiful day, look at shop windows, watch children playing, and pet some stray kittens.

There is a small store that sells pretty dresses at good prices. The shop is charming, decorated with plants and flowers that fill the air with a lovely scent. Natasha gives you free rein to choose a dress for her, and you’re excited. You’ve never seen her in a pretty dress since you met. You carefully look at the dresses, searching for the one that makes you think, “This is the dress for her.” Natasha walks close by hands in her pockets. When she sees some guys looking at you, she takes your hand to make it clear that you’re hers. You smile at her every time.

“Do I have such an ugly body that there's nothing that would fit me?” she asks, tired. “You have the opposite problem. You’re too beautiful, and no dress would do you justice,” you reply determined to find the perfect dress. Your eyes land on THE dress. It’s perfect for her. It stands out from the others, its design and color scheme seeming tailor-made for Natasha's unique beauty.

“I won’t wear that,” she protests, but you don’t listen. You take her hand and lead her to the dressing rooms. When she comes out, you can only say, “Wow.” She’s gorgeous.

“You’re beautiful,” you say in a faint voice. “I can’t go around dressed like this. I look like a princess who needs to be saved, and I’m the one who saves others” she says. You approach her, making your noses touch.

“For once, you will be my princess,” you tell her, and she smiles at you. You share a small kiss on the lips, and she goes to change and pay for the dress.

"For you, anything," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

After lunch, she says she has to work, leaving you alone at home. Sundays are usually your days together, the only day you don’t have to work. It makes you sad, but you know Natasha’s work is important. You decide to put on your favorite music and eat your favorite ice cream to keep your Sunday happy and lazy. Someone knocks at the door. You hope it’s Natasha, even though you know it’s impossible. There’s a package in front of the door, addressed to you. You haven’t ordered anything online, and Natasha didn’t mention it, but curiosity gets the better of you, and you open it. Inside, you find a golden letter and a dress. Not just any dress, but the one you would have worn to the prom years ago. The only person who knows about that dress is Natasha. Your smile can’t be any bigger. You open the letter and find a prom invitation:

“For students who attended this school year, you are all invited to participate in the prom.”

At first, you think it must be a joke or a mistake, but the second piece of paper in the envelope reveals you have the best girlfriend in the world: “Thank you for coming to prom with me. I’ll pick you up tonight at 7:00.” It’s only two hours till 7:00, and you’re a mess! If only she had told you earlier.

You’ve never prepared so quickly before. When the doorbell finally rings, you're putting the finishing touches on your ensemble, a nervous excitement bubbling within you. With a deep breath, you open the door to find Natasha standing before you, radiant in the dress you had chosen together, a single red rose in her hand.

“Such a beautiful lady,” she says, handing you the flower. She offers you her hand, and you take it. Together, you head to her car, where she plays the songs you used to listen to in high school, bringing back fond memories.

“Where are we going?” you ask, noticing the unfamiliar route.

“It’s a surprise,” she replies, and you hum along to the songs. She parks in front of a beautiful park and blindfolds you, carefully leading you inside. When she lets you see, you’re in the middle of a meadow, surrounded by balloons, speakers, and a stage. Just the two of you.

The sky paints a stunning backdrop with shades of yellow, orange, and purple, and the dim sunlight adds a romantic touch to your little corner of the world.

“I know it’s not the same because there’s no one else, but I wanted you to be able to dance at your prom too,” she says, starting the music with a remote control. “Will you allow me this dance?” You hug and kiss her passionately before starting to dance to the notes of “My Love Mine All Mine.” She gently caresses your back while you dance, and you hold her tight as if nothing could ever separate you. After the dance, she goes on stage and pulls out a crown and a microphone from a box you hadn’t noticed.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like your attention,” she says, looking straight into your eyes.

“It’s time to name the king or queen of the ball.” She pauses for dramatic effect, then announces, “The queen is you,” inviting you on stage to crown you. You share a kiss that leaves you breathless, stopping occasionally to look at each other and smile.

“Anyway, I was tempted to give the crown to that squirrel,” she whispers pointing to a squirrel that was in a tree near you making you laugh.

“You’re still in time,” you tease, and Natasha laughs.

“I think it’s the best prom I’ve ever attended. Thank you so much, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you too, pirozhóchek.” The wind gently caresses your hair as you continue to dance, this time on the stage, the clinking of your heels accompanying the music. Time passes, but you don’t notice it. Your bodies are touching, your hands intertwined, and your love uniting you is all you need at this moment.

[saturnville]

HEYY GIRLL!!

I’m so sorry to ask for another story but I would appreciate it if you could do another John Egan x female reader one.

can you do one where they have a very deep and sad conversation. John is shutting his wife out and she like begs him to let her love him and all that. If you can, can you make it slightly steamy towards the end.

thank you so much queen.

2 much, major john egan

pairing: major john egan x she (female reader) content: in which it became too much. warning: angst. author's note: thanks for your patience, love. I tried different variations to incorporate steam, but it just didn't turn out right, so I hope you don't mind it too much. I can try something steamier in the future. tags: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum

“John, open this door! Open the door!” 

Her small fist against the door was a snaredrum in his head. Oh, God, he couldn’t stand it. The noice was too much, being home was too much. Too much yet so little. 

He was used to the chaos. The screams of horror, the booming voice of bombs as they seared through the sky and penetrated through bricks walls and concrete floors. The bodies that lay bloody and bruised. Unmoving eyes with tears that dropped tears, one, two, three, until there were no more to produce. 

Being home was too much. The silence, save for the soft hums that came from her as she tidied up their home or made his favorite meal. The warmth of the bedsheets and the comfort it provided. The smell of fresh grass, the feeling of a warm breeze against his face, the laughter of the children who lived on the street. It was so unfamiliar, so uncomfortable that it drove him mad. 

So, he cracked. He abruptly rose from the dining table, slammed his utensils so hard against the plate that it shattered, and darted to their bedroom. She followed after him like an eagle after its prey, but she too was devoured. The door closed and the lock clicked swiftly. 

“John, please…” 

She sat outside the door for hours, begging him to open it. She’d heard the commotion from the other side of the door and her heart lurched. The heavy breathing, the incoherent mumbles and word jumble, then the sobs that had him leaned against the door in exhaustion. 

“I’m tired…” he finally said after some time. She could hardly hear him. “I can’t take it.” 

His lover placed her hand on the door and positioned herself on her knees. “I’ll take it, then. Let me take it from you, John, please…I will take it from you for as long as you need. Just open the door, my love.” Her tone dripped with desperation. How did it get to this point? 

Her body was sore from the amount of time she spent on the floor. Then, she heard it creak open. It didn’t open wide, just enough for her to see his hand slither between the crack. She reached out to grab his hand, which squeezed hers gently. She fought the urge to break down in tears. 

This wasn’t a man she knew. The man she knew left for battle months prior and came back a different person. But she swore that she’d love every part of him. And that was a promise she was bound to keep.

[licncourt]

Is there a specific way to read the vampire chronicles or some books you should skip (I’ve just heard that some aren’t that good but like I’m up for anything)? And what books are focused on Louis and Lestat?

Okay I hope you weren't looking for a short answer to this because there isn't one 😭 Rather than just give my uncontextualized opinion, I'm going to try to explain what makes some (most) of VC so unbelievably terrible in so many people's eyes. There are going to be spoilers for pretty much all the books, but most of it is either incredibly stupid or information that you might want relating to content warnings. I'll list what applies to each book as I go.

I'm assuming you're here from my VC primer post, but if not, I'll link it right here! It gives a bit more detail on my short answer to your main question which is: if you value your sanity, only read the first three. Also a note to read the post I linked at the bottom of it about Anne Rice for context. It will help with understanding the tone this post takes re: the author.

To quickly answer your second question, I am sad to report that Interview with the Vampire is the only book focused on Loustat because after that Anne Rice decided that she hated Louis. Their relationship is on and off in the (very, VERY distant) background until they finally get together permanently towards the end of the series, but it's never the focal point again. She just kept us all on the hook by having one absolutely brain chemistry altering ship moment in a majority of the books (my compilation of those moments here).

Okay, on to specifics:

Interview with the Vampire: a literary classic with incredible character building. I'm assuming we can all agree that IWTV is fantastic and anyone who is reading this because of the show is probably already sold on it. If that's where you're coming from, you might be a bit disappointed by how unsympathetic Lestat can be, but that'll be remedied(ish) later. Lestat is the main character in the series going forward. Enjoy this Louis content because this is pretty much the end of it.

CW: keep in mind that the beginning of the book takes place on a plantation with all that entails; there are some occasional pedophilic and incestuous undertones, but nothing out of place with Gothic horror (it gets so much worse); domestic violence

The Vampire Lestat: this is widely considered to be excellent popular fiction rather than something as elevated as IWTV, but it's a 5-star read according to most fans. Lestat is such a vibrant, exciting character and so much more than the charismatic villain he was in IWTV (the AMC show incorporates a lot of his characterization from this book, as IWTV was originally a stand-alone novel without any real idea of what Lestat would become).

Aside from a (delightful) cameo at the end of the book, Louis is now in Anne Rice Jail and will not be allowed to do anything for the next nine books except be tortured once like a bug for no reason.

CW: a non-consensual turning that is directly analogous to sexual assault; descriptions of child abuse; Lestat, unfortunately, tongue kisses his mom

Queen of the Damned: this is the last book that most fans like. I personally consider it a step down from the first two, but I strongly prefer intimate, character driven stories and QotD is very plotty. It's a fun book, but some cracks start to show in AR's writing that will become a big problem later. Still, it's enjoyable and the ending is very satisfying for the story arc and for the characters. It also contains a fan favorite chapter that follows Daniel, the interviewer, and his insane romance with the vampire Armand.

If you want to be a happy person, turn back now.

CW: non-con blood drinking/vampiric SA; casual racism and pro-imperialism

***CATEGORY 5 EVENT: ANNE RICE FIRES HER EDITOR PERMANENTLY***

The Tale of the Body Thief: this is considered by most fans (obligatory not ALL) to be the worst book in the series simply for how the subject matter is handled. This is the beginning of AR transforming Lestat into something very existentially disturbing without even meaning to. The sympathetic, charming, evil-but-not-really theater kid Lestat is gone without a trace in a way that could be a very insightful look at the aftermath of trauma but is instead deeply insensitive and really upsetting.

Lestat from here on out becomes a hypermasculine caricature that can do no wrong according to the narrative and this has some pretty awful results. There are a few funny moments (like Lestat describing the sensation of peeing for two full pages) and a very cute arc where he adopts a dog, but he also commits two explicit rapes and emotionally abuses/threatens Louis on several occasions with the authorial justification that "men can't help themselves", abuse victims have it coming for setting boundaries, and people who have suffered abuse become abusers. This will be a recurring theme going forward.

Not related to Lestat, but also an Indian man is killed and has his body stolen and inhabited by a white British man in what would be a great metaphor for colonialism if the author thought that was a bad thing.

I am on the last chapter of a 140,000 word fic that I wrote just because I hate TotBT so much and wanted to create a world where it doesn't have to exist. It's one of the most popular VC fics on ao3, and that's not a testament to my writing ability, but rather to how much people hate this book.

CW: graphic SA; domestic violence; insensitivity to the point of racism; the author thinking these things are okay

Memnoch the Devil: not much to say about this. It's AR's ripoff of Dante's Inferno. Lestat meets the devil, goes to hell, drinks the blood of Jesus Christ, loses an eye, vacuum sucks period blood out of a woman's uterus and pad, and then falls into a five year semi-coma on a church floor. Somehow it's still boring. Best I can say is that the Lestat characterization is a bit less heinous than it is in the previous book.

CW: not much here unless you have an issue with period blood guzzling

The Vampire Armand: truly a notorious book in the series, beloved by some, hated by many. There's some good backstory for the character Armand (he first appears in IWTV, likely in season two of the show) and some fun historical fiction, however. Armand begins his story as a twelve year old human child who is rescued from sex slavery by an ancient vampire, Marius (he was namedropped in AMC ep 2).

Over the course of the book, he's physically, mentally, sexually abused by Marius, his teacher and father figure who is, like David, presented as a wise and moral authorit figure. In addition, Armand carries on a sexual relationship with an adult man as a minor. The sex is graphic (it's erotica) and it's really the peak of the pedophilia in VC. Keep in mind that this is coming from an author who publicly defended a child predator and thought that 14 year old kids could consent and should be allowed to have sex with adults.

Of all the later books, this one is the most widely enjoyed because Marius/Armand is a fairly popular ship.

CW: CSA/grooming; statutory rape; explicit adult/minor content; child abuse; cult abuse

Merrick: evil, evil book. AR's giant fuck you to Louis and anyone who likes his character. Lestat is in his devil coma for most of this book, so it's narrated by his newest fledgling and rape victim, David (who I and most others despise. This is the white guy who has an Indian body now). By this point, AR had openly admitted that she didn't like Louis, and she kind of spends this book tormenting and mocking him for no reason.

The titular Merrick (a mixed-race witch drowned in awful racial connotations) mind controls Louis with magic, then forces him to turn her (again, AR has confirmed that this is vampire rape) and be in a relationship. After this, she conjures a "ghost" that may or may not be Louis and Lestat’s dead daughter who tells Louis she always hated him and blamed him for her death. Completely overcome by grief, without Lestat (coma), and having been raped, Louis attempts suicide.

This event and all his mental health issues up to this point are framed by David as being stupid and weak, the sign of a lesser person who should just go and die because they deserve it. It is worth mentioning yet again that David is framed as being in the right and AR had expressed these opinions herself in the past (ie that mental illness is just weakness and you should be able to get over it).

Another fun thing is that Merrick was groomed by David as a child and he spends most of the book wanting her back and also admitting to other acts of pedophilia. So that's fun and great for a character who's supposed to be a voice of reason and moral center.

0/10, despise this book.

CW: sexual assault; grooming; attempted suicide

Blood & Gold: this is Marius' backstory. It is a completely pointless book because we've already heard it twice by this point in the series (and if you read the companion book Pandora, you'll hear it again). The whole thing reads like a Wikipedia page about ancient Rome. Read it if you want I guess.

CW: Marius

Blackwood Farm: this book had...potential? None of that was ever achieved, but I'll at least say that the concept could be worse. Lestat acquires his FIFTH brunette sadboi love interest of the series in this book, so that's kind of funny. Overall though, any positive qualities are overshadowed by weird prose, a really transphobic caricature, and the fact that the main character has shower sex with the ghost of his dead twin brother

CW: transphobia; sibling incest

Blood Canticle: Miss Rice decided to. Get creative with this book. It is a fandom joke. It is the worst prose in existence. It is a literary manic episode. It is truly indescribable. I'm just going to leave this excerpt from ch 1 here and let you imagine an entire book of this

Yes, chapter one is Anne Rice using Lestat as a proxy to berate her readers for not liking Memnoch the Devil. It's also important to me that you know Lestat calls himself "omnisensual" in this book, tries to become a saint, and tells a woman to put some clothes on because men can't control themselves. The word "chuckle" is also written out in the prose in italics like this is ff.net in 2010. The best thing that came of this book is the famous AR Amazon reviews rant (now a beloved VC fandom copypasta). Please read it. It's transcendent.

CW: psychologically devastating prose

Prince Lestat: this is AR's comeback book, published 12 years after Blood Canticle. It's an improvement, but it's still terrible and very, VERY dumb. Lestat has completed his transformation into a macho man male power fantasy for AR and we end with the establishment of a vampire monarchy with Lestat in charge because he slurped and then puked up the brains of the vampire who had the Special Vampire Essence.

Mostly this was an excuse for AR to kill off a bunch of her weird NPCs that she didn't know what to do with. The good news is we get a very cute, official Loustat love confession and for the first time since the first book in the entire series, we get a chapter that's Louis' POV!! It's like 7 pages long but it's the best we're ever going to get.

Other fun thing that happens: Lestat is hooked up to a hormone IV that allows him to fuck (book vampires can't) and the resident scientist vampire steals his cum and creates a petri dish clone of Lestat that is raised in secret for 18 years before being given to Lestat as his son. No, I'm not joking.

CW: uh, brain eating? Insanely unethical human experimentation?

Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis: batshit crazy book. Truly bonkers. There are aliens, Atlantis is real, Lestat has a sentient brain parasite that controls all vampires and talks to him in his mind like the PS5, vampire brain surgery occurs, a choir of child vampires is there, an alien named Derek breastfeeds a disembodied hand until it grows into his clone named Derek Two, and so much more.

The one positive is that after decades of harassment, AR finally lets Louis be a main character again. By this point he has been completely stripped of his personality (I call it the Louis Lobotomy) and exists solely as Lestat's sexy lamp, but whatever. He's there and they're cute together. How they managed to become a healthy, functional couple overnight after two hundred years of drama is never explained.

Lestat makes out with his rapist and talks about how he was asking for it in a particularly nauseating scene, but otherwise it's pretty tame trigger-wise

CW: rape apologia/victim blaming

Blood Communion: we are finally being put out of our misery. The end of the series. This is such a boring book and Lestat’s characterization is completely nonsensical by now. Several main characters are presumed dead for a while and by this point you don't even care. Not even the other characters in the book seem to care. Its only use is to get that sweet sweet Loustat happy ending.

CW: temporary character death

-

Alright, that was a lot of shit-talking a book series I literally run a fandom blog and write hundreds of thousands of words of fic for, but the truth is, fans are here for the characters as they were originally created. The first three books are wonderful, the first two completely masterful and case studies in how character building should be done. There's a reason they've been read and analyzed and fawned over for forty years. What happened to the series is heartbreaking, but it doesn't negate the impact of how it started.

AR may have started spelling her own characters' names wrong and writing a baffling combination of disgusting hot takes and total absurdity, but she created something special in the beginning and I'll always love it and be grateful for what it once was.

I hope that was helpful!

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 4

Joan Watson

How were BBC Sherlock shippers so rancid about a WOMAN who wasnt even in the SAME SHOW?????

Martin Freeman of BBC Sherlock insulted Elementary and specifically Lucy Liu in the press. He straight up called Lucy Liu a "dog" in an interview APPARENTLY as a joke, because calling female actors ugly is hilarious. Benedict Cumberbatch was more measured about it, but he still said he was cynical about Elementary because it would lose the "male friendship" dynamic, which of course Johnlock shippers used against Joan Watson fans. Even the lead BBC Sherlock actors got in on the yaoi victimization of Joan Watson... 😔

she wasn't even in the same SHOW as the yaoi I've been convinced she deserves to win the entire poll. I was a Johnlocker but I did watch the first season of Elementary and it was fine????? It was totally okay????? Especially in hindsight given how hard Sherlock season four flopped. Also Lucy Liu is a queen and deserved zero vitriol for *checks notes* playing a character???? A fucking fictional character???????? Oh my god we were all SO mean to this show and we (or at least I) thought it was like The Good Fight™️, like we were defending BBC Sherlock against copyright infringement and straightwashing and Jonny Lee Miller's bizarre scarf, (it wasn't a good scarf I do stand by that) but then Elementary didn't make Holmes and Watson a couple either???? And also it didn't insult its audience constantly etc etc we've all seen the Hbomberguy Sherlock is Garbage video. This is really long sorry hashtag justice for Joan Watson.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime.

[hauntedxwritings]

Comment on this post if you would like to be an affliate!

[97keanu]

"ᵒʰ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒⁱˡ

ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ

ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵃ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ

ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁿⁱᶠᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵗ ᵐᵉ

ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ﹖

ⁱ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ

ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱ ᶜˡⁱⁿᵍ

ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵒ..."

Sandbox Love Never Dies

Dave Lizewski x Demonic!Reader (Jennifer's Body AU)

Premise: In this chapter, reader becomes the god she was always destined to be. She does something she shouldn't, and ends up on Dave's doorstep, the only place she has ever known to go to for help. Dave is completely horrified from the night events, but still cares for reader. Some cannon from JB divergence, maybe this way we can find a happy ending. Either way, the horror is starting to settle in with this chapter, please mind the tags and authors note!

Words: 4.5k

Read chapter one here // be added to the tag list for this fic here

Tags/CW: reader death(and rebirth), side character death implied but spared the gorey details, blood, gore, angst, drama, shared trauma, hurt/comfort, nurse Dave, bath scene, Dave helps reader bathe, Dave and reader end up in some pretty good fluff at the end.

Author's Note: this chapter was really interesting to write as the horror part of this au starts to become more prevelant, but if you are squimish to any of the above CW's the please be mindful when reading. As mentioned, there is a character death in this chapter, but I opted to skip an in depth scene of what happens, but if you've seen JB you should get what's going on. If any of that is confusing, let me know! This chapter is under the cut <3 P.S. this song really fits this chapter, so give it a listen ʚ♥︎ɞ

The sky looms, limitless, an endless expanse of stars over this world. A cruel world where girls too young are tied, roped, adjusted as such to the top of a natural stone used as a sacrificial table. The sky has a million eyes and they're all on you tonight, Snowflake Queen, as your heavy breathing remains still human just yet. The omnipresent dark that covers the earth nightly is just as restrained as you are, helpless to stop what will soon happen. 

You can almost feel the same pit of darkness as the sky open up in your stomach, blood running out as stupid men play stupid games with ritualistic consequences. All you can do is scream, the sound falling on deaf ears of the woods that envelope the scene. 

You find yourself as cold and limitless as the sky as your human body is ruined. The assailants laugh, crack jokes, and sing songs as their blood pumps to the idea of fame and fortune being theirs. As you go still, they figure the job is over, throwing away any evidence into Devil's Kettle, the rushing, hungry mouth of the waterfall that eats all it's given, never to return. They don't even bother to give you a second look as they leave. You can feel the chill of death take you, your breath leaving, leaving, leaving. Never to return as yours.

Then, you feel something else. 

You feel something move inside your broken body, breathing life into your lungs that had just barely stopped its function. You can feel it, black, slimey, crawling down your throat and slipping into that pit of your stomach, but not filling it. No, it sits there like a creature, a parasite, that only adds to the emptiness, that begs as much hunger as the rushing waterfall, it growls with animalistic hunger, the sound rushing out of your mouth as you try to scream. 

You aren't even sure what happened next, your eyes focused on all the little pinpricks of light in the sky that disappear if you look directly at them for too long. What you do remember is the crunching of bone as you escape your restraints, then the sound of it going back into place, your wounds closing, your body changing, a darkness filling your veins. 

You're different, maybe even better, than before.

The next thing you come to realize is how your body finds itself breaking into a run, stumbling through the tree line and seeing the still smoldering Melody Lane Tavern. The fire seems vague and so far away to you now, like another life. The corpse of the building is still illuminated in red and blue, so you decide to walk away from there. As you do, on your path you see someone. 

The shape in the dark is walking with hunched shoulders, holding itself, and shivering. You watch, curious. As you approach, the familiar face begins to connect in your fuzzy brain. 

"Marty?" Your voice croaks out, still so tired from what's happened. 

Marty turns to you, he's completely out of it, but upon seeing a familiar face looks weakly hopefully. 

"You're alive…" You say to him, he can barely speak after what's happened tonight. As you look at him, and see the thin dribbles of blood fall from his head, that pit inside you opens up farther than before. You feel a low growl wanting to escape your lips. Something about that blood is making you so hungry it's taking over your already clouded mind. 

"Does anyone know you're here, Marty?" You say, almost as a puppet, the hunger speaking for you. Marty can only shake his head, and you can almost feel the world go back for what happens next.

The only thing you remember later is flashes, you can't think about it too much, the humanity in you is still on the surface since the transformation. No, you don't want to talk about what you did to Marty. 

You do, however, know that the only thing you feel after is euphoric. You are coated with the blood of this endless nightmare, stumbling about the dark, wet blacktop roads. You barely register the headlights aimed for you, and you know that even if you were struck by a car, you're invincible right now. You drank the blood, and now you're a god.

✧

Dave can't stop shaking. He feels like his stomach might cave in, and he can hardly believe any of tonight happened. He can still see you, dazed, glassy eyed and being pulled into those fuckers van. His muscles tighten just thinking about it, and he feels like he throw a punch for one of the first times in his life. 

He's so worried about you, he has no idea what to even do, but he knows something is wrong. As he and Katie were caught in the hectic aftermath of the fire, the police just starting to show up, he felt something that made him double over in the grass. It was as if his stomach had been slit, he could feel it so vividly, practically sense your pain as much as you felt it. All he could do was writhe in the grass, begging Katie to help him, and not let anyone want to try to keep him here longer. No, he didn't need medical attention, he just needed to get home. He needed somewhere he could be safe, somewhere he could maybe try to think of saving you. 

Katie, despite how little she's known Dave, actually came through, and helped Dave get to his feet. Despite the pain, they made it to Dave's car without anyone trying to stop them. Katie was happy to help Dave, but she was terrified for Erika, who hasn't been spotted yet. Because of this, while she has positioned Dave in the driver's seat, she tells him she has to stay, look for Erika. Dave understands, and they share a look. 

Dave knows all too well how she's feeling right now. That's exactly how he feels about you. He gives her a nod, as if to say 'go to her', and after Katie leaves, Dave takes his own advice. 

He starts the car and begins to drive, his head feeling still filled with the smoke from the fire, smoggy and clouded from the night's trauma. He feels so strange, physically. He had felt the immense pain, but now all he feels is numb. His whole body is cold, and that scares him more than the pain. You have to be alive to feel pain, this numbness…"god…please don't let it mean that…". 

Dave lets himself drive in almost dazed state, the small town is quiet at this time of night, and no one has been seen on the road since he got away from Melody Lane's chaos. In fact, it's so eerily desolate. The cold, wet night glistening off the road. Dave takes his eyes off the road for a moment, to turn on the heat in the car, the shivering cold and numbness reaching a breaking point inside him, it's so strong. 

When he looks back at the road, he practically screams, the terror rising and catching in his throat, he hits the brakes as hard as possible. His headlights flood a figure with a brightness that blocks out half their shape. But what he catches before the person runs, impossibly fast, makes his spit run thin. That puffy white jacket, those piercing eyes, all that blood….

Dave can barely shake himself free of what he's seen, but now he's sitting here, all alone, that numbing feeling drifting away. It's all he can do, so he finishes his drive home.

When he returns home, he can barely move his body, the pain of tonight already setting in as the adrenaline cools and thickens inside him. Dave is just so tired. He weakly goes inside, his dad is likely well asleep, maybe a bottle in. Despite feeling like tonight's events should be 'wake your parent up out of a drunken stupor' worthy, Dave trudges up the stairs to his attic room. As he opens the door, the intense numbing feeling brushes past him once again, and he braces himself. 

Inside, you sit on his floor, bloody and clothes torn, completely dazed. 

Dave cannot describe how it feels to see you, he is shocked, but the relief of having you here, with him, not with those horrible men, washes over him so intensely that his knees almost give out. 

"Oh my god…" Dave doesn't even feel like he's saying it, but the words fall from his mouth. He rushes to your side, falling next to you, and gripping your arms through your jacket. "You're alive…I thought…" 

You're still so dazed, but your eyes slowly drag over to Dave. Your mouth is crusted with blood that's not yours, god, if Dave knew from whom it came from he would never forgive you. Besides that, you can hardly understand what compelled you, in this new form, to come here. Old habits die hard, you suppose. You also have a feeling that absolutely terrifies you when Dave comes so close. 

As much as you felt something similar when you saw Marty, this is different. You feel as if the hunger inside you isn't an overwhelming coldness, no it's not the need to fill that numb spot within you. It's different. A blazing fire. It builds, your stomach set ablaze and filled with a want and a yearning that is so strong. You eye Dave with a hunger that goes well beyond the need to eat, no, this isn't sustenance, it's a want for him, all of him.

You can just imagine, pulling him up from the floor, dragging him to his bed, and your weight and power on top of him. You can just imagine his innocent eyes as you can't decide whether to fuck him or sink your teeth into him. Just the thought of sliding his cock into you while you do both, tasting him, his neck in your mouth, the submission as he allows you to take him, all of him…

Dave has to reach up and gently grab your chin, focusing your attention on him. You didn't even realize a low growl had started forming, deep within your chest as you thought about consuming Dave.  You also notice he had been talking while you imagined this, and feel a mixture of disgust and lust. 

"What happened…?" Is all he can say at this point, you seem completely broken, and he can sense that your energy is different even if he doesn't acknowledge that he does. You don't respond, for a long moment, your thoughts a haze of trying to ignore the budding hunger inside of you, and remembering how to be, well, human. Even if you couldn't articulate it now, you knew you were not like Dave anymore, not at all. You aren't really sure what you are, or everything it entails, but you know for sure if you don't keep your hunger in check…you don't even want to think about what could happen, the guilt from your still fresh humanity filling your veins with a chill. 

"Dave…can you…can you please just help me up…" You start, your voice is dry and tired. Dave doesn't even question, he simply stands and holds out his hands, those large hands you've dreamed about touching you. You realize how cold your hands are to his nice, warm, human hands. He swiftly pulls you up, and you wobble, his hands there to steady you at the waist.

You're so close when you look up at him. He wasn't always this tall, you remember when you were kids, and you used to tease him about how he was shorter than you. You're almost certain that it was around the time he gained an inch, that one defining inch, above you, that's about when you started to fall in love with him. It wasn't so much that his being taller did something to you to change your feelings on him, no, it was more of the fact that after that, you guys slowly became more than just schoolyard mates. Even if you would never admit those feelings that fluttered at the worst times. Right now, is one of them. If you could blush, you would be right now, Dave's big blue eyes look at you with concern and worry. Of course, Nurse Dave as always, here to patch up your bloody knees just like when you were kids. 

Right now, it's a bit more than a scrap on the knee. Dave doesn't know if he should even be keeping you here, if all that blood is yours, well, he should take you to the hospital, right? You seem so pale, so fragile as he slowly takes over the situation, no longer time for questioning any of this. 

"Here, let's go to the bathroom…" He says softly, guiding you to his en suite. It's small, dimly lit by a yellowing bulb, and messy in a way that teenage boys always seem to make. He gently picks you up, and for a moment, you're surprised at how strong Dave is. You don't remember when he got to be so strong. He sets you on the sink counter, which has ample room for you, and begins by taking your puffy, once white, jacket off. 

"What are you…?" You start, still out of it. 

"You just…" Dave seems embarrassed for a  moment as he continues to undress you, but  his eyebrows pull together, determined for your own safety. "I need to see what happened, you're bleeding so much…" 

Dave's hands begin to shake as he notices  underneath your jacket there is a large hole in your shirt. He has to steady himself, he has no idea how bad the wound is, and as he keeps looking at the shirt he notices more and more holes, the blood making it so hard to see what exactly is going on. 

"Did…oh my god…did you get stabbed?" Dave has to take his glasses off for a moment just to make sure he's seeing this all correctly. There's no way you could even be standing, let alone at his door if these truly are stab wounds. He reaches out gingerly, his fingers barely tracing a hole that goes directly over your heart, and pulls his hand back in fear of that hole leading to a wound in your body. You don't respond to his question, way too tired and focused on fighting your own hunger to be talking much right now. 

"Okay, we need this off…" Dave says quickly, any embarrassment for seeing you in your bra overtaken by how scared he is about what he will see on your body. He gently, but effectively takes your shirt off, a lacy white bra underneath, soaked in blood. Dave looks you over, the blood is slick on your body, starting to turn darker shades of red and  brown now as it begins to dry, but what he realizes is that as his fingers explore your body all he feels is softness. His fingers even trace to that spot, right over your heart, moving away blood that slicks his fingers, and all he finds is smooth, soft skin underneath. No wounds. 

"This…this isn't your blood?" He almost scoffs the words out, in disbelief. By the looks of you when you came in he thought…well, he doesn't really even know what he thought, but he was sure you were in much worse shape. You catch his eyes when he asks, and shake your head wearily. Dave lets out a sigh of relief that expels so much stress he can barely breathe in again when he's done. 

"Holy shit…God…you had me so worried there…" He could almost scream, but instead he does something neither of you expected. His strong arms grab you, pulling you close, almost off the counter, and into his chest. He puts his head right against your tangled, blood soaked hair, and he is glad you can't see him right now. Dave sees a glance of himself in the mirror, the tears forming and slowly dripping down his cheeks. He just can't believe you're here, you're okay, and that he can keep you safe now. 

"I'm so lucky…" He whispers, not necessarily to you, or himself. 

Lucky. You could almost laugh if you weren't losing more and more energy as you feel yourself sinking into Dave's arms. Nothing about tonight had been lucky. In fact, you almost wonder if this is some sort of sick joke being played on you, and if you could  just close your eyes, fall asleep, when you woke it would all be over. 

When Dave finally pulls away, to get a better look at you once more, you let out a small noise of discontent from losing his warm embrace. 

"We should probably get you cleaned up." he says, looking you over, assessing what's needed. "Do you think you can do it yourself…?" 

Before he's even finished asking the question you're shaking your head. Dave can't help a blush rise to his cheeks as he thinks about how he will have to undress you completely to really help you get clean. He then nervously moves his hand to push his glasses back up, before noticing them sitting on the counter next to, and laughs uncomfortably. 

"Well, we'll have to get these c-clothes," he starts sputtering out a bit, he isn't usually so nervous around you, you're, well his best friend in the whole world. And if it wasn't for the gender difference this wouldn't be such a big deal. Dave lets out a shaky breath, then continues, more determined to complete the task at hand so that you can feel better. "Yes, as long as you're okay with it, I'll have to undress you to help you bathe." 

He settles on that, hoping he's not being weird and that the end justifies the mean here. You look up at him, and muster the energy to speak, to calm his nerves. 

"I need your help Dave, I don't care if you see me naked…" You say weakly, and it's true. If it wasn't for the fact that you were feeling as if your energy was fading faster and faster, you may have very well been worried about Dave seeing you naked. But right now? No, you couldn't care even if you tried after the night had. You think Dave senses that and feels the same way. He's just as tired as you, by the look in his eyes. 

Dave doesn't say much more, besides an occasional instruction for helping to get your clothes off. He helps you wiggle out of tight skinny jeans, the task made harder by the blood soaked spots that want to stick to your skin. After that, it's only your bra and panties left. Dave can't help but notice how much of your body is being exposed to him for the first time. It's just how he imagined it, if not even better, and he has to remind himself that this wasn't how this should have gone, and now is not the time for a wandering mind. You tell him you have your underwear covered as far as taking it off, and ask if he can start the bath. 

He nods, says 'of course!' As if he had made some mistake when his hand reached up for the waistband of your matching panties. He turns to the bathtub before he embarrasses himself more, and you slowly, muscles tired and sore, hop off the counter and begin taking off your bra. When you're finally fully undressed, you ask Dave if he can close his eyes as you hop in the tub. 

"Oh, sure, here." He holds out his arm for you to steady yourself as you get in. You utilize this, and as you sink into the half full tub you feel a sense of ease hit you. Dave has it at the perfect temperature, the heat of the bath making you miss his warm arms once more. You let Dave know when he can open his eyes, even though you're sure he can see a full view of your ample chest, it somehow feels better that half of you is protected by the bubbles Dave also added to the bath. 

Dave can feel how deeply red his cheeks are as he watches your breasts rise and fall in the water, and when the water begins to turn a rusty color, Dave straightens his mind out. He kneels down next to the tub, his knees on the bathmat. You slide closer as he grabs a washcloth and begins dipping it in the warm water. Neither of you speak as he begins  with your face, the softness of the cloth and the warmth of the water easing your tensions while taking off blood and make up. Dave has actually helped you take your makeup off for the night before so he starts with this, feeling most confident in his abilities. 

Eventually he finishes your face, and you open your eyes to see him deciding where to start next. He starts on your neck, it's the next thing down that has blood crusted on it, so might as well, right? He cleans gently, making sure that he's not hurting you, going slowly. When you're certain your neck is done, and he's just avoiding going lower, you look up at him, meeting his eyes with a new boldness that has emerged from your transformation. You take his hand gently and lead it to your breast, keeping your eyes locked as you allow him to feel your soft, plump skin there. His eyes look so nervous, something about how much he wants to touch in this way being so clear on his face, yet he rejects it, as to be gentlemanly, or a good friend perhaps, turns you on way more than any of the other boys who have had access to your breasts. 

He takes his time here, despite his nerves. Circling your breasts with the washcloth until your supple skin is all that's showing. He keeps his eyes mainly on yours, something about the connection between you two right now is more than just a horny teenager seeing his first pair of boobs. No, it's deeper than that. It's about the trust between you two, and how Dave is staying focused on your needs first and foremost. That isn't to  say that how he is touching you now isn't making your already weak legs feel weaker, a quivering in your chest and between your legs building as Dave moves on to the other side, making sure to give the same attention there. You can feel yourself twitch as he brushes over your nipples, which are so hard and tight despite the warm water. They just barely float above the bubbles, and Dave makes sure you're all clean before moving on. 

You thought the spell would be broken when he moves on to cleaning your back, but somehow, his hands moving in such a pleasurable massage, makes you want him even more. You completely relax as he cleans, you're sure that it's clean by now, but Dave continues to massage just to make you feel better. When he pauses, you feel his breath against your ear, his voice soft, full of something you've never heard from him before. 

"Does that feel good?" He checks in, and you nod, giving a small, relaxed 'mhm…' along with it. You can't see it, but you're sure Dave is smiling, pleased to please you. He always has been that way. He can't help it when it comes to you. 

He reaches for the shower head, glad that the bath is a two in one, and starts the water there. He checks the temperature again, making sure it won't be shocking, and he wets your hair. He still can't believe how much blood was on you, and you're unharmed. He begins to gently wash your hair, wondering where it came from. Perhaps he'll ask you in the morning when all this might make more sense. But right now, he works a lather into your hair, his hands like magic, moving so thoughtfully through your locks. You find yourself wishing that this had come on any other night. Why is it that you get to know the pleasure of Dave's hands on your body after all that's happened and not on both of your own terms. You are too tired and enjoying what Dave is doing to care right now. That's for another you to ponder sometime.

Dave finishes up your hair, and gives the wash cloth over to you, instructing you to finish up anything he couldn't reach. He informs you that he is going to get some new clothes for you, and to your surprise, his cool lips touch your forehead before he leaves. You gaze up at his form as he's already out the bathroom door, strutting quickly away to find some new clothes without leaving you too long. You finish washing while he's gone, and stand up wearily out of the tub, grabbing a nearby towel to dry off. 

You're all wrapped up in a white towel of his, the tub filled with dirty water, slowly taking it, fand the night that caused it, down the drain. Dave comes back in, surprised you're out, but glad you didn't slip while doing so. 

"I got you an old band shirt of mine, and a pair of my shorts." You smile, taking the shirt and shorts. 

"I love this shirt…" You say, slowly pulling over your head, the towel still shielding you. 

"I know…" Dave says softly as your head pops out of the shirt, your wet hair leaving droplets on the shoulders. You smile and Dave glances away as you slip his shorts on, fitting you nicely enough for the night. You discard the towel and follow Dave towards his bed. 

"Here…" He says, pulling back the covers so you can get in. You do, gladly. Dave slips in behind you, and he immediately puts his arms around your waist, too nervous of you escaping him again. You notice the hunger from earlier is duller, calmed for now. Somehow, Dave's attention to you has helped, and you find as Dave snuggles against your shoulder, your breath slowing. The terrors of tonight are ringing around your ears still, but it's no match for how tired your body is. You drift into a deep sleep, wrapped by Dave Lizewski's arms, something you never thought would happen this way.

Some thing's really must be fate.

[valentine-writes]

Spot nation is here humbly requesting again u-u One of your recent works breifly touched on The Spot getting protective over an upset reader. Would love to read your take on expanding that concept. :^] Make it as lighthearted or serious as you like! Maybe the reader has to tell him to chill out instead. Like, we love you queen but take it easy. No worries if this isn't smthn you want to do! Loving your writing in general! Take care :>

:(

「 tws + notes: POSSIBLE FLASH WARNING FOR THE GIF BELOW THE CUT?? (jus to be safe!! idk if this is needed or not-), no tws, unedited, super silly moment from me im not in a slash srs mood 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. johnathan ohnn/the spot

author's note: AUWWHJWAB HELLO!!! u are so so polite omg thank u so much ! ^_^ i luv tha enthusiasm i've been seein from spot nation tbh!!! o((>ω< ))o i'd be happy to expand on that hc! im gon make it a little teeny tiny bit more lighthearted becuz i luv myself some silly hcs but here we go!! super duper soz if itz a bit short anon </3

▸ i think i like writing the spot as a silly lil dude who is jus tryin so so hard. but also he did work for Fucked Up Evil and Co. (alchemax is just brimming w/ all sorts of brilliant minds with horrifying ideas in the name of science. kingpin ran this shit and would not have it any other way) like he's not beyond being an absolute menace he just didn't have the means for it at the beginning of the movie. so we're gonna keep it lighthearted and silly but,,,

we're gonna keep this in mind too, yeah?

▸ you're incredibly dear to him. he's become a little more protective than he usually would be (can't have you being taken away from him! not after literally everyone else in life life ditched–) and it's just the littlest bit unhealthy.

he really does mean well! you just find yourself reminding him to dial it down a bit.

▸ especially after he's gotten a hang of using his powers?... he's got the means to keep you from harm. he may still be insecure about his appearance, but those thoughts can be (temporarily) satiated when he knows what he can do.

the power at the multiverse, in the palm of his hand

i mean. you can't expect him to not want to defend you with it.

▸ you remind him, time and time again that he really doesn't need to check up on you that frequently. in spite of this, he can't help peeking into a portal, just to check on you here and there.

"i swear to you, i'll be fine." you tell him, time and time again- and he trusts you, he really does. but it doesn't hurt to be absolutely, positively, 100% certain, right?

▸ on the days you're upset because of a particularly bad day (not specifically conflict with people, just little things or internal issues, etc, etc... the Horrors,,,,) he offers the support he knows that he'd want.

if you're a person who's obvious with their emotions, he's pretty okay with picking up the cues you're not doing fine. will start up a conversation and then awkwardly ask if you're doing okay.

it's a little more tricky if you're subtle. overtime, he learns what to look for- little signs that indicate you're not doing well- and ensures that he's straightforward in asking about how you're feeling.

and sometimes, he able to sense that something is off. there's a tension in the air neither of you want to talk about, a feeling in his bones that he can't quite shake. he dislikes this the most. mainly because it's easy to attribute this feeling to overthinking. he'll check up on how you're feeling anyways. even if it takes a while to muster the courage.

without fail, he feels his heart break a bit when you look up at him with the saddest expression he's seen on your face. your frown is almost painful to see :(

he's got a very formulaic strategy in his mind that he uses to help you deal with bad days

something like this mefinks,,,

[ step a: he starts by asking what's going on with you... ask how you're feeling and all that. if your mood is negative, he'll try to ask why and if you wanna talk about it ]

if you choose to take up the offer, go to step b. if you refuse, go to step c.

[ step b: listen! provide support, be attentive. he'll let you rant, scream about it (ok maybe not too loud though, but,, y'know. if it helps, it helps), cry- anything. if you do cry, go to step d ]

[ step c: distract!! distract, distract, distract. you got a favourite comfort show or movie? he tells you: hey, you haven't watched it in a while (even if you have), why don't we put it on? your favorite video game? he'll play with you! talk about your favorite things or talk about nothing while you grab a snack or drink. he knows avoiding stuff isn't gonna work for long term problems, but he's more than willing to cheer you up ]

[ step d: SILENTPANICSILENTPANIC... internally he's just kinda freaking out because it's hard to see you cry. he's not awful with comfort- just a little stiff, y'know? much better with distractions. but in the event of you crying: he'll rub your back, wrap his arms around you. or give you space (depending on what you need) probably goes "hey, no, no no- it's okay, it's okay-" while attempting to soothe you. gives you time to cry it out while he babbles reassurances under his breath. ]

he really does try his best (´꒳｀。)

▸ if you're beefing with someone and it's making you upset, he'll listen to you complain about them. out here nodding and agreeing with you like he was there to witness. again, he's got your back!!

(this part partially inspired by @//spdrslayr 's posts!!) in interest of cheering you up,,, you two make fun of the person.

if you're someone to openly bitch about someone and aren't afraid of getting a little mean behind someone's back,, he's making fun of them too.

of course, if you're like "noo,, but like,,, that's mean-" he's quick to remind you what they did. like they had the audacity, there's no need to be sorry.

if you're consumed by harrowing guilt anytime you're remotely rude (even behind someone's back) he'll tone the jokes down. just a little. he can be VERY a little out of pocket.

likes watching you try not to lose it, stifling laughter, as you share a moment over mutual hatred for said person

"hey– that wasn't.. that wasn't funny–" you're snicker, doing very little to hide the obvious smile on your face. he loves seeing your face brighten, the frown on it now replaced with a grin you just can't hold back

he's gonna crack jokes about them randomly too in your conversations. he's good at holding a grudge yeah,,, but at least in this case he's funny abt it. it's lowkey starting to sound like he was wronged instead of you.

▸ if someone hurts you? that's a whole other story. (hehe. whole- my bad.)

being inconsiderate, rude, and mean to you is one thing, but bringing physical harm to you?

he can't stand the idea that someone would want to harm you. it doesn't matter what happened in the events leading to it. he knows you didn't deserve it. he knows it. the minute he sees the tears stinging in your eyes,, the bruising on your body– the blood–

someone's going to have to answer for it.

(but im not talking abt him tryin to rock someone's shit becuz that would be 10x longer blehhhh :p)

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hello Ange 👋 May I request a Threesome with Alicent, Rhaenyra and a female OC? 🤭 Maybe throw some mommy and corruption kink into it, however you like 🤗

Thank you so much for the request, Laura! I hope you enjoy this.

Warnings: Voyeurism, wlm content, tiddy succin, a slap between the legs, oral (f receiving, duh), fingering. Slight manipulation. Smut. Word count: ~1400

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

It is noon and a fresh Springtime breeze circulates through the halls of the Red Keep, as you make your way up the stone staircase of Maegor’s Holdfast, towards the Queen’s apartments. A bundle of clean linens are nestled in your arms, prepared to do the day’s turndown of the bed. You are running behind today. Since the arrival of Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra, along with all of their children, you seemed to be late to do everything. The Dragonstone visitors had more than doubled your workload.

You push your way through the heavy wooden doors, sending a silent prayer to the Mother that Queen Alicent would not be present to scold you for your tardiness. However, it is another sound entirely that fills your ears upon entering the bedchamber.

The lilt of soft moans and giggles causes you to pause, not daring to trust what you are hearing until the cadence begins to increase. The right thing to do in that moment would be to turn and walk back down the staircase that carried you here, however, curiosity propels you forward until the Queen’s four poster bed is in view.

Through the gaps in the gauzy material that hangs suspended from the wooden bedframe, you can make out two writhing, naked bodies. Alicent lays flat on her back, her pretty face contorted in pleasure as a silver haired woman lays with her head buried between her thighs.

Alicent’s eyes fly open, wide with horror, as you gasp at the sight before you. You realise it is Rhaenyra that she is coupling with, as she turns to face you, and you stand frozen in shock for perhaps a little too long. Your eyes rake over the supple curves of their bodies, the way the sweat glistens on their flesh, highlighting the subtle pink flush of their skin.

You force yourself to look away, uttering a string of rambled apologies as you turn and flee from the room, still clutching the bedclothes tightly to your chest.

You don’t tell a soul what you have witnessed, all too aware of the implications it would have. Instead, you keep your head down and focus on your work around the Keep. The image of what you saw earlier that morning refuses to leave your mind, however, and you are perplexed by the feeling of warmth that spreads between your legs whenever you think about it.

It is the witching hour and you are about to prepare for sleep when Alicent’s lady’s maid informs you that the Queen has requested your presence in her quarters, at once. Fear gnaws at your insides as you make your way to the other side of the castle. You’ve no real reason to feel afraid of her, she has never been unkind to you, yet you have never walked in on anything quite so scandalous before. You do not know what to expect.

When you are beckoned inside upon knocking at the door, you are startled to see Rhaenyra before you. She stands in a thin cotton shift, her long pale hair loose around her shoulders and her hands clasped in front of her.

She cocks her head to the side, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Did you have fun spying earlier?”

“I didn’t tell anyone, I swear!” You protest, panic bubbling in your chest, causing your heart to hammer wildly against your ribcage.

“Oh, kēlītsos, I know you didn’t.” She steps towards you, gripping your chin between her thumb and forefinger. “But that’s not what I asked, is it?” Kitten.

You gaze wide-eyed at her, not quite knowing what the High Valyrian word she just spoke to you means, beyond the fact that the sound of it makes you clench around nothing. “I-I wasn’t spying.” You stammer, wetting your lips with your tongue.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flicker downwards to your mouth and then back up again. “But you liked it.”

She smirks when your only response is a pitiful whine. “Don’t think your behaviour won’t go unpunished.”

“Oh, ‘Nyra! Don’t be so cruel to the poor girl.”

Your head whips around to where Alicent is reclining on the bed. The sheer fabric of her nightgown leaves the outline of her nakedness just about visible in the candlelight. Your eyes dart between the Queen and the Princess, unsure of what to make of the situation that’s playing out before you.

Rhaenyra releases your chin, taking your hand and guiding you towards the bed, gesturing for you to sit. You perch on the edge and immediately Alicent moves to place delicate hands upon your shoulders, sweeping your hair away from your neck.

“You don’t think she deserves to be punished for her prying eyes?” Rhaenyra asks offhandedly, dexterous fingers pulling at the laces that hold the front of your dress together.

“No.” Comes Alicent’s response, pressing a featherlight kiss to your neck that causes you to shiver. “She ought to be rewarded for her silence.”

“Would you like that, kēlītsos? A reward?” Rhaenyra asks, a hint of subtle mocking in her tone.

You have no idea what that could possibly mean, but if it serves to prolong the heady feeling of anticipation that’s steadily building inside of you, you will more than gladly accept. Fervently you nod your head.

Rhaenyra pushes you to lay back and you let out a squeal as she pushes up your skirts, dragging your small clothes down your legs.

“Shhh…it’s okay.” Alicent coos, laying beside you and stroking your hair.

You stare into her soft brown eyes, taking comfort in the mixture of kindness and desire you see reflected back at you.

A sharp stinging sensation between your legs causes you to cry out, as Rhaenyra delivers a slap to your slick folds. “Stop making a fuss. Alicent may be a soft touch, but I’m not. Ungrateful little brat.”

You whimper, the pain quickly subsiding to a pleasurable aching sensation.

Alicent leans in, capturing your lips with her own and kisses you tenderly. “You’ll be good for us now, won’t you?”

“Y-yes.” You whisper.

“Good girl.” 

She kisses you again and you mewl into it as you feel the flat of Rhaenyra’s tongue work itself against you, once, twice, three times, before the tip comes to bully at your pearl.

“You’re doing so well for us.” Alicent soothes, working a hand inside your loosened bodice to pinch gently at your nipples.

You arch your back, the sensation of it combined with Rhaenyra’s tongue lapping at you causes an irresistible tightening in your lower belly.

You fist the sheets as you feel Rhaenyra push a finger inside of you, a lewd moan escaping your throat.

“Shut her up.” She snaps, looking up from between your thighs, before crooking her finger to push and pull against a spot deep inside of you that makes your legs tremble.

“You mustn’t be so loud.” Alicent tells you. “Here.”

She pulls down the neckline of her nightdress, revealing the plush swell of her breasts to you and guides your head towards them.

Greedily you suckle a pebbled peak into your mouth, reveling in how Alicent threads her fingers into your hair, sighing in satisfaction.

You feel yourself beginning to tighten, Alicent’s insistent tugging at your roots and Rhaenyra’s tongue and fingers expertly working at your core serve to push you closer and closer to the edge. With a final flick of the Princess’ tongue against your bud with a well timed thrust of her finger, you fall apart, tightening and spasming uncontrollably in the throes of ecstasy. 

You pull away from Alicent, desperate for the release of being able to cry out, but she is quick to capture your lips with her own, muffling your sounds with heated kisses.

Once you’re calmed, Rhaenyra lifts herself away from you, wiping at her mouth and chin with the back of her hand, as Alicent cradles your head against her chest.

“You taste divine, kēlītsos.” Rhaenyra purrs. “Would you like to taste us too?”

“Yes.” You croak out weakly, mind too hazy with bliss to fully comprehend what you are being asked.

“Good.” She says, crawling to lay at the other side of you. “Keep this to yourself and we shall give you the opportunity to do just that.”

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry 2024 Round-Up Post | Week 3

On Sundays during our posting period, we won't post a new work, instead you have time to catch up with the works that posted during the week and hopefully leave lovely comments for our creators.

Happy reading, commenting and sharing! ;)

~Your LCDrarry Mods

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information. Thank you!

PPS: Please share far and wide! Thank you!!

***

Podfic

***

"The Pirc Defence" by sleepstxtic

Prompt: "The Queen’s Gambit", 2019, Scott Frank Written by: @sleepstxtic Narrated by: Anonymous Podfic Length: 01:05:00 Rating: Explicit Warnings: None

Summary: They were rivals, and they were lovers, and they were the greatest chess players of their generation. Exactly in that order.

Listen to it now on AO3.

***

Art

***

Draco's Moving Castle

Prompt: "Howl's Moving Castle", 2004, Hayao Miyazaki Prompted by: @Somethingveryodd (newskyillusion on ao3) Author: Anonymous Art Medium: Digital Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: Art for LCDrarry2024 fest. Prompt was Howl's Moving Castle.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Fic

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we were born to be national treasures

Prompt: "Legally Blonde", 2001, Robert Luketic Prompted by: MoonyEmilie3017 (ao3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 4,979 words Rating: General Audiences Warnings: There is nothing triggering in the work, although it does heavily rely on the subject of needing academic validation as a woman in a patriarchal society.

Summary: Danica Malfoy is determined to study law and move forward in life. But is anything really ever that simple?

Read it now on AO3.

***

End of Beginnings

Prompt: "All of Us Strangers", 2023, Andrew Haigh Prompted by: Anonymous Author: Anonymous Word Count: 5,324 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Canonical Character Death

Summary: As Harry and Draco start developing a relationship, Harry finds himself drawn back to the Potter house in Godric's Hollow, where his parents appear to be living just as they were on the day they died.

Based on the movie All of Us Strangers (2023) though you don't have to have seen it to understand the fic.

Read it now on AO3.

***

The Potters : Possessed case

Prompt: "The Conjuring", 2013, James Wan Prompted by: Anonymous Author: Anonymous Word Count: 12,039 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Horror, blood, vomiting, mention of suicide, possession, exorcism

Summary: After a lecture, Harry and Draco meet a frightened woman, telling them that her entire family is scared to death of their new house.

But Harry and Draco wanted to take a break after a traumatising case. Maybe it's just natural causes and the house isn't haunted, right?

Read it now on AO3.

***

By the Book

Prompt: "The Proposal", 2009, Anne Fletcher Prompted by: Anonymous Author: Anonymous Word Count: 14,586 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: It’s hard being Draco Malfoy: workaholic publishing professional extraordinaire. Between revolutionizing the Wizarding World and fighting with Harry Potter, his chief of staff, it makes sense Draco forgot to check his mother filed some paperwork. Oops. Easy enough to avoid deportation by saying he’s engaged to said manager.

Too bad that plan involves visiting Ottery St Catchpole, a gaggle of redheads, and defrauding the government.

Read it now on AO3.

***

this strange effect

Prompt: "Killing Eve" (2018 - 2022) Prompted by: Soulmates Drarry Author: Anonymous Word Count: 30,670 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Violence, Blood and Injury, Assassinations, Killing Eve AU, Murder, Light Poisoning, Obsessive Behavior, Reference to past addiction issues, Presents

Summary: Harry hated his job, his cousin, and his inability to figure out how to fit into the boring, depressing world around him. He kept his peace until Draco Malfoy turned out to not be dead like Harry thought he was. Deadly, though? Harry was going to figure that out.

Read it now on AO3.

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The Heart of the Heart

Prompt: "Howl's Moving Castle", 2004, Hayao Miyazaki Prompted by: @Somethingveryodd (newskyillusion on ao3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 52,775 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: Harry Potter’s boring routine comes crumbling down when he takes the wrong shortcut at the wrong time; he almost ends up in a brawl, gets rescued by a handsome stranger, successfully escapes sentient tar, learns to walk on air and then becomes victim to a spiteful, petty and undeserved ageing curse - and all that within a single afternoon! Now transformed into an old man, Harry decides to run away in search of a way to reverse the spell, but the path is precarious and the journey long. As he's trying to make his way through magic and treachery, danger and deceit, it's becoming abundantly clear that something more is hidden behind petty magic - something deeper and more valuable and connected all too thoroughly to what may only be classified as love.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry. Thank you!

Creator reveals are on 15 June.

[unicorncornflakes]

Little One - Story AU! | Prologue

Next Chapter

Paring: Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: You are the only daughter of Jacaerys Velaryon, future lord of the tides. After the victory of Aegon and his side in the war, your family suffers the rejection in Driftmark. There you must always give an account to the king's new hand, Aemond Targaryen. However, when the time comes, Aegon and his court claim you as Queen Helaena's lady-in-waiting. As a new piece of the Greens' strategy to coerce your father, you are taken to King's Landing to begin your life in high society. Aemond will be, much to his pleasure, in charge of guiding you in this new stage.

Tags: Alternate Universe/ Enemies to Lovers/ Emotional Hurt/ComfortDrama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st, at some points.

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 3.5K

A wave crashed against your naked body again and you laughed. Another wave again and another smile. Normally the only laughter on Drifmark beach was from the younger ones. Those who had been born after the Dance of Dragons and they did not remember the horror of the war their parents had been subjected to. So you were one of the few who laughed, much to the delight of your father, Lord Jacaerys Velaryon, current heir to Driftmark, after the death of his brother Luke. Little did you know of the political issues surrounding your father's appointment as future lord of the tides when it was obvious he had lost the war, but Jace also preferred it that way. He had lost the war, his right to the throne and his dragon, but he refused to lose what little he had left. His dignity had long since been forgotten. He now danced at the mercy of Aegon II and his Hand, Aemond Targaryen. For this reason, he preferred to keep you out of all this, and for you to continue laughing while you swam, danced and spent hours reading.

Another wave crashed against your body again, but this time you didn't laugh. Just like your friends playing in the water, you looked up at the sky, at the horizon, where a large dark mass threatened to cover up the sunny light that was shining on the beach that morning. But you knew it wouldn't. Vhagar's huge wings cast a shadow in a single instant, which disappeared with a quick flip of them. You had only seen one dragon in your life, and that was Vhagar. According to what the guards had told you, one of the few survivors of the Dance. You heard she roar as her rider stopped him on a nearby cliff, where a party was waiting for him. You could see the flags and banners of your father's house wave, welcoming Aemond Targaryen, who, as from time to time, would stop by on behalf of the king to see that everything was still in order and faithful to the crown. The dragon roared again just as you saw the figure of Aemond dismount from her in the distance. It was impossible not to spot him even at a distance with his Targaryen presence. You stood there, but you knew that they would be looking for you shortly to pay your respects to the hand of the king.

Dismounting from his dragon, as soon as he set foot on dry land, Aemond already wanted to get out of there. He saw how Vhagar was looking at him, regurgitating fire to burn all of Driftmark's brood if her rider dictated so, but Aemond only raised his hand, without even meeting her eyes. "Lykirī" he pronounced with absolute confidence and felt like his mount relaxed. Total, if she devastated that island not much else was going to happen. He smirked and sneered when he saw at the end of the procession his nephew, Jace, who was waiting for him with a scowl, behind the ever powerful presence of Corlys Velaryon. The King´s Hand was only there to see that everything was in order, for the next day he would be back in King's Landing with… his family. He took a quick look at the beach below the cliff. There was a group of girls playing on the shore. He sighed smugly, as if he found it hard to believe that there could still be happy people there. If there were people like that, it's because he wasn't doing his job well, but he let it go. He was trying to rebuild the kingdom after the war, not tear it apart further. He turned his one-eyed gaze straight ahead and walked confidently. He knew that despite going without an escort, no one there would dare to attack him. Threats could be, but not attack or hurt him. Driftmark was in no shape to afford another war, and Aemond was there, too, to prevent it from happening. He approached the waiting entourage and once in front of Lord Corlys and Jace, he waited with his hands behind his back to be greeted. Courtesy said that it was he who should greet since he was the newcomer, but this was ignored when it was a prince like him.

"Lord Hand" your grandfather, Lord Corlys, greeted him with a solemn nod, his eyes fixed on him. So did your father, his lips pursed and his gaze fixed on Aemond. The hatred that he always exuded when seeing him was not comparable to anything like that. He always clenched his fists when he saw him. He hated it. He was the one who had killed Luke; and Aegon, his mother.

"Your receptions are getting poorer for a person of my rank, Lord Corlys," Aemond commented to him as he looked at the guards posted to the sides, missing Jace's wife and children, as well as the fanfare of the moment. “Should I start worrying about insubordination?” he said with his eye locked on Jace, daring him to speak at once.

“No, my prince” responded Corlys while inviting him with a gesture of his hands to move forward “Driftmark suffers the impacts of war like any other place. Now we do not have the means to receive it as it deserves. We apologize"

Aemond walked in the direction of the Velaryon house fortress with Corlys, followed by Jace at his back. He wasn't afraid of him. He knew he had broken him enough that Jace would not turn against him or his brother. "Where do the resources of your house then go, Lord Corlys?" he smiled cruelly, as if he were suggesting they were re-arming for possible rebellion.

"To feed and support our people" Jace answered from behind, in a bad way, not daring to meet Aemond's eye, but tired of those control visits, which did nothing but harm them.

"Now we'll see when we talk about money and tributes to the crown" the one-eyed prince replied with a smirk. "By the way, I understand about the resources, but couldn't your wife and children be here today to receive me as I deserve?"

"Baela is in bed, my prince, she just gave birth to a boy" Corlys commented, trying to hide a satisfied smile, which Aemond couldn't see, because he just kept staring at Jace.

"Congratulations, bastard, you've finally been able to make a healthy and... strong male" he smiled mischievously, and Jace looked away from him even more, how long would this torture last? He not only insulted him with his origins, but also attacked him with his inability to have fathered only two children. "And your daughter? Is she also she in bed she just gave birth? That would be very bad news for the crown” managed to provoke, Jace looked at him with anger in his eyes. Finally he was going to attack him, when Corlys stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. They both knew the plans the greens had with you, although you were unaware of them. "Let's keep going. But I would like to see (Y/N) before the visit is over” he commented again, bringing his arms behind his back again.

"Now I'll send for her, Lord Hand." Corlys told him as he nodded to one of his guards, who came out of the formation in search of you. Aemond smirked as they continued walking towards the fortress. He had to check that you were ready for the task he had in mind.

"Get dressed quickly" your mother ordered you from her bed, where she cradled your newborn brother. One of the maids came up to you and helped you tie the back of her dress. She picked up the brush and began combing your hair unlovingly, in a hurry. You didn't complain. You knew that circumstances dictated so.

"Your hair is full of saltpeter" was the only thing the woman, who was combing your hair between great pulls and effort, commented with a big snort "She should have bathed" two other girls were running up and down the room, also preparing the clothes for your mother. She had had a painful birth, but if The Hand asked to see you all, you would appear.

"Better, she'll look ragged that way," your mother commented as she rose in great pain and allowed one of the girls to pick up the child, "Careful, please," she whispered. Your newborn brother made a small sound of disgust at being torn from your mother's arms, but he did little else. It seemed that he didn't have the strength for much more and you feared. It had happened with the rest of your brothers. They would die in a few days. At least he hadn't died in your mother's womb. That must be a good sign.

They finished dressing you in your parents' spacious rooms, while they continued with it for your mother. Baela looked at you with concern, but you did not dare to return the look. “Do you want us to put jewelry on (Y/N), My Lady?” asked the oldest of the maids, opening an old jewelry box with the few jewels that your family had left, you wanted to use them but they never allowed you.

"No, she must look like a girl," your mother said as they hurriedly dressed her. "If he asks you, you don't bleed, do you understand me, (Y/N)?" your mother warned you, as if she knew something you didn't.

"Yes, mother" you told her with a quiet and submissive voice. Two years ago you had started bleeding, and it was obvious that you did it regularly, that your body had fully developed and you were ready to give birth to children, but... whenever there was a visit of this type, your parents told you to lie. On that occasion, it missed you even more. This issue had never come to light before if the prince came to visit you. Your mother finished dressing with the maid´s help ,and with your brother in her arms and with you walking behind her, quiet and scared, she headed to her grandfather's throne room. her head held high and her eyes combative. Aemond Targaryen was not going to take either of her two children.

“9,850 dragons were brought to the crown by the end of last month, the remaining 3,045 were used in the following terms within Driftmark maintenance: 275 were destined for fodder for the goats within the castle limits, 132 in the acquisition of clothes for …” that accountant continued counting in great detail all the expenses that the Velaryon family had had in that last month. Aemond listened without paying much attention, simply writing down some of the figures to be able to add up at the end or refute what such stupid expenses were due to... Jace looked at him with contempt, while Corlys tried to avoid any possible tension by looking at the ceiling while they were all in that huge makeshift table in Driftmark's throne room. Aemond continued to smirk whenever he looked at Jace. He challenged him he always would and Jace didn't know the mistake he'd made in having children. Aemond must have celebrated your birth even more than your own father. It was the first nail from Jacaerys Velaryon's grave.

"Cousin" he heard the voice of his cousin Baela of his right behind him. If Jace had been taken from him his brother, Baela had been taken her father after he faced off against Daemon Targaryen and besting him, just as Alys had predicted. He turned in his chair and finally saw that little miracle as the accountant's voice stopped short. The entire place fell silent as Aemond Targaryen gazed at you and your mother, muted. His only eye shone with happiness, although as he had always told you it was cruel happiness. He got up from his chair and walked over to your mother, ignoring you and inspecting your newborn brother. His hand resting on dark sister. It had been the prize for murdering your grandfather. Jace also got up to be able to control the situation, although you always felt that in the presence of that cold man there was little to control. You had feared few things, but Aemond Targaryen was one of the few men who managed to inspire fear in you. You stood there cold, frozen, waiting your turn to be inspected, like you always had from the last time he saw you.

"Finally a boy, cousin" he smiled without getting too close, as if he really didn't care about the little boy or the mother's condition at all "What did you call him?"

“Lucerys Velaryon, like my brother,” your father said proudly, coming up behind your mother and grabbing her shoulders protectively. Aemond laughed, an almost malevolent laugh.

"I hope he has better luck than our little Strong," said Aemond, turning to look at you. Your mother stopped your father with a look. You all were in no position to reply, not after the war. He stood in front of you with a smile and inspected you from top to bottom with a look that you couldn't decipher. At least no man had ever looked at you like that before. He put his hands behind his back and you blushed. If he hadn't been an enemy, you would have found him quite attractive. Even as an enemy of your father, you did. But you had never shown it except for that pink shadow that appeared on your cheeks every time he looked at you, but... you shouldn't have been confused. He was a kinslayer, the cruel prince. “I would have liked you to receive me in the dress I brought you last month, (Y / N)” he said as he smugly looked at you. You looked at him confused. You didn't know what he was talking about and then your father spoke after clearing his throat.

“She's still a girl for those kinds of dresses,” your father said with an icy voice, as if he didn't want to talk about that topic any further.

"Well, when you let her swim naked on the beach, her body looks like a woman's," Aemond commented without taking his attention away from you, without any emotion. You blushed even more and your father tightened his brow even more. At that moment, he would have killed Aemond if the three of you had been alone, but the rest of the room was looking at him, waiting for his reaction. He simply stared ahead, suppressing everything he felt. The prince kept looking at you "Tell me, little one, are you bleeding yet?" You blushed even more and looked at your parents before swallowing hard.

"No, the lunar blood hasn't reached me yet" you lied to him with your gaze fixed on his eye, who listened to your words in disbelief. Aemond had always understood little about women, but he knew that you already bled. It was a no-brainer. For a moment, he couldn't blame Jace for wanting to separate you from your destiny, but he had already begun to get tired of that absurd game that was brought in your house. You were a woman, and as a woman, you had to start facing what was expected of you.

"Well, at this point, in which despite (Y / N)'s age she still hasn't bled, I have to execute the king's will anyway" he said after taking a tired sigh and not expressing any emotion again. It wasn't just Aegon's will, it was his own, the more he could tie the rebels against the crown the better, and doing it by looking like a magnanimous sovereign was even better.

"What are you talking about?" Your father spoke in confusion as Aemond sat back down at the table. Aemond invited him to sit with a wave of his hand.

"Some news is better to receive sitting down, nephew" the one-eyed man told him, while his attention returned to your mother who had now approached you and hugged you, as if she already had an idea of what Aemond was about to say. Your father sat down again and Aemond took out a paper "An Edict of the King, in his own handwriting." He pointed to your father as he offered it to him to read. Aegon could have written it, but it was his idea, like almost everything that was done in the seven kingdoms those days.

"This can't be true," he said as he passed the note to Corlys. You could see your grandfather's eyes widen as he read the wax-sealed letter from the house of the dragon over and over again. "Is this a joke?" your father asked again. "You're not going to take them both," he roared loudly, slamming the table. Aemond didn't even flinch. He only spoke with a clear and firm voice.

“And I'm not going to take them both, but you have to understand that it's time for their life in society to begin. You will want a good husband for your daughter, right?" he asked knowing that he hit where it hurt, that he was giving the last stab gracefully to his nephew. He had already passed sentence on him years ago, at the very moment he fathered you. Your mother ran to read the note with your brother in her arms, but you were still in the same place, as if you didn't know what was happening. Aemond glanced at you, but he said nothing. He just scrutinized you in silence.

"Tell the king that we care little for his wishes for our children's prosperity," Baela spoke grudgingly to Aemond, who remained unperturbed.

“I think that to be sons and grandsons of traitors, the positions that the king offers them are very good. They will participate in court life. I think it's something wonderful given their origin” Aemond tried to explain from his point of view. “Little Luke will become Daeron's squire when he is old enough, that will make him a knight. A great opportunity before inheriting the title of his father... if he survives the cradle, of course ” he smiled again, referring to the other children of Jace who had suffered the same fate and had not survived more than weeks after childbirth. "As for (Y/N)..." Aemond left his seat and under the watchful eye of your parents he grabbed your chin, and made you raise your face, forcing you to look into his eyes "Helaena always needs ladies-in-waiting" he caressed your lower lip, as if his mind was going through a thousand ways to use those lips for his use and enjoyment, but he was not Aegon. He repeated it to him a thousand times while he kept looking at you and you felt how your whole body stood on end at those attentions to which you were not used to "The queen's ladies-in-waiting always find the best husbands" he whispered in your ear without letting go of his grip of your chin

"She's still a girl, Aemond," said your father, coming closer to you. You turned your face away from the prince's grasp, as if now you were ashamed because deep down you had enjoyed that brief contact of his skin against yours.

“I think that's the problem she's not bleeding yet.” Aemond gave you a big smile. “You still treat her like one little girl. In court, she surrounded by young women she will surely start bleeding… and so we can marry her to whoever she best suits…”

Your father grabbed you by the shoulder as if he wanted to protect you "She's still not old enough to get married, nor to be a bargaining chip in your macabre plans," he said, holding you even tighter, trying to protect you. "The court is no place for her." You did not speak, as if you feared that what you might say might offend both Aemond and your father. You were scared, just like a lamb going to be slaughtered.

“She is the daughter of a great heir, isn't she? She is the granddaughter of princes, daughter of lords... Why wouldn't she be among my sister's ladies-in-waiting?" Aemond commented, turning. “This subject bores me, we have already discussed it, I have already said what the king has ordered. Let's continue with the Driftmark accounts for this month and end this meeting. I'm bored with this situation"

Corlys had said nothing in the entire discussion, but his face reflected the worst hatred for Aemond. The accountant waited for your father's order to continue without knowing what to do, and the young cupbearer remained silent, in a corner, a mute witness to all of this. Your mother bolted out of the room grabbing your arm. You heard your father scream and your grandfather answer Aemond, but your fate was already sealed. King's Landing awaited your arrival.

[the-desilittle-bird]

Author's Note- I have been planning a Tywin Lannister Fic. If anyone has some ideas, you are free to share. For the meantime, enjoy this one and do tell me if you want a second part. Also requests can be made.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

The Crimson Lady

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary- The Greens and the Blacks gather to settle the war peacefully. And the Era of the One-Eyed King and Crimson Queen begins...

Tag List- @eliseline , @little-moonbeam-666 , @blackhoodlea, @omgsuperstarg, @shopping, @lizlovecraft, @dayane, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26 , @all-things-fandomstuck, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @morganastrucker, @shrexy , @helloitsshitzulover, @daringboba, @minaxcarter, @b-tchymoon, @stargaryenx, @hukio, @saraelizabeth26, @targaryenmoony, @moon-light1415, @eudximoniakr

King Viserys 'The Peaceful' gone. King Aegon 'The Usurper' gone. Queen Rhaenyra 'The Black Queen' gone. All in the duration of no more than 2 years.

Prince Daemon 'The King Consort' killed. Prince Jacaerys 'The Heir of the Black' killed. Prince Lucerys killed. Prince Daeron Targaryen killed. Prince Jaehaerys killed. Countless casualties on both sides due to the war which was known to the common people as 'The Dance of the Dragon'.

The greens had seemingly won the war until their king was poisoned by his own kin, only a few moons into the rule again. Meanwhile, the Starks and the Velaryons convinced Rhaenyra's only living heir to assert her claim on the Iron Throne.

The council of states of the realm was divided. The whole realm was. The Blacks hailed princess (Y/N) Velaryon, naming her the rightful heir to the throne. The Greens wished to name Prince Aemond the King of The Realm.

Both the sides of the war had suffered the consequences of war. And the namely leaders of them had seen the most of the horrors; and both of them could mutually agree on only one thing. That the war must stop, on any basis.

(Y/N) sat blankly at the head of the table in Dragonstone, staring into a distance, distant from the ongoing argument as Corlys Velaryon and Cregan Stark fought on their next step in war.

She could feel the tiredness in her body, seeping through her brain and clouding it. She had lost her mother a mere moons ago, and her stepfather- or as the rumors suggest, father- some moons before her mother.

She was alone in this world, except for her youngest brother Aegon, who was too young to understand these things.

"Can I expect a few moments of silence?" She asked, growing agitated from all the noises around her. She could only wish for some peace in this chaotic world.

The council chamber fell into silence as both the lords watched their princess sigh in exhaustion, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Please take your seats," she commanded softly, gesturing with her hands.

The lords nodded in understanding, sitting down as they shared a worried look. They had seen (Y/N) grow up from a bright, cheerful girl to a dull and commanding lady.

"What do you wish for, my queen?" Cregan asked, as stiffly as he could as he observed the younger lady in the war. (Y/N) glanced at him, her gaze softening as she looked down at her hands.

"I wish for this to end. With me on the throne or without, a give no care," she stated, letting go of the truth she knew for a while. "But that throne belongs to you," said her grandfather.

Before (Y/N) could react, the door to the council chambers opened and a servant walked in, trembling harshly as he feared the rage of the war lords.

"What is it?" (Y/N) asked softly, making the boy look up at her. She could calculate that the boy was no older than her, possibly the same age, but she could see the differences between him and herself. While he was fearful of these lords, she commanded them, much to her inner dismay.

"A... a messenger from the... the Greens have came upon the doors," he said.

The throne room was in the state of alert. The Queen's Guard stood on the steps to the throne, each hand on the pommel of their swords, ready in case of any danger.

Cregan stood two steps down the throne, hand folded behind his back with his eyes glaring at the door, waiting patiently for the messenger to stride in.

(Y/N) sat on the throne, fiddling with her fingers nervously. Her eyes glancing to the door every second in caution.

The door opened at last, and a tall, hooded figure walked in, head hung low to hide his face. Though the man never looked up, (Y/N) was sure he could feel their curious eyes on him.

"You stand in the presence of Queen (Y/N) of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, First of her Name. Rightful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Rightful Lady of the Seven Kingdoms. Rightful Protector of the Realm. The Crimson Lady and The Eagle of Dragonstone."

"What is it that the Greens want?" Cregan asked, picking his words carefully. The man extended his hand, a scroll in his grip. Cregan and (Y/N) met each other's eye before (Y/N) nodded, making one of the knights present in the room, snatch the scroll from his hand, handing it to Cregan.

Cregan opened the scroll with care, an analytical eye reading it. He walked up to the queen who sat in her place with fear bubbling in her stomach.

"What now?" She whispered, looking at the scroll with fear. "They wish to negotiate for the throne, in peace," Cregan whispered back, his eyes casted down in respect. He heard (Y/N) gasp silently, eyes meeting her Valyrian ones.

"Should we accept?" She asked, looking around to shake off the nervousness. "It is your decision, (Y/N). Not mine or Lord Velaryon's," he stated, nodding back and walking down to his place.

"The Greens wish to negotiate with the Rightful Queen in peace," Cregan announced, making Corlys scowl. "This is just another one of their schemes to butcher us like sheep," the Lord of Driftmark said.

"I can assure it isn't, Lord Corlys," the voice of the messenger startled everyone, making the knights of the Queen's Guard draw their swords and point to the man.

The man looked up, letting his hood fall back to reveal the face of the second son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. A smirk appearing on his visage as he saw the look of fear on everyone's face.

"Prince Aemond," (Y/N) greeted with a nod, standing up from her seat. With swift and soft steps, she strided to him, ignoring the fearful looks of the lords.

"You are aware we could imprison you here," (Y/N) said matter-of-factly, making her uncle hum as he looked at her with interest. "And give my family the message that you wish to continue this war, resulting in more deaths," Aemond replied.

(Y/N) observed her uncle, once who used to be her favorite companion. He had matured during the war. His hair shorter than before, braided to keep the hair away from his face. His face had become more sharper with time, if it was possible. He had grown taller during the period of this war.

Aemond had seen (Y/N) the last time before his father's death and now, with her in front of him, he couldn't help but notice the changes. She had grown an inch or two taller, still rather short compared to him. Her face more defined than the last time he saw her. Her hair shorter due to the war and pulled back in a bun.

Eyes traveling down, he noticed the prominent curves she have developed in last two years. Her usual bright gowns had now changed into a black and deep red gown, fit for a queen.

"We will come, uncle," (Y/N) announced after a while of thinking. "But if this is some scheme of yours and your snake mother's, then know, that neither your family nor my council can stop me from marching onto King's Landing."

Aemond could see the threat clearly, and he nodded sincerely. "Thank you for your kindness, princess," Aemond bowed, his eyes sincere. (Y/N) only nodded, her eyes followed Aemond's movements as he turned around and walked out of the throne room, not even glancing back.

"My Queen, are you sure?" Corlys asked, as everyone visibly relaxed after the Prince was gone. "He killed your father," Cregan added. "I am sure, Lord Corlys. Thank you for your concern," (Y/N) said, leaving the throne room as well.

Gods above seemed to play a game with the young Targaryen as she and her small troop of advisors arrived at the keep with a furious rainstorm outside.

(Y/N) was greeted at the entrance by Otto Hightower, who despite his scowl was able to give the princess a hard and distasteful smile.

He had led the group to the small council chamber, where (Y/N) could recognize the Green's Council Members.

Prince Aemond and the Dowager Queen Alicent and the representatives of Houses Baratheon, Lannister and Strong sat on one side of the table with an empty seat reserved for Otto by his daughter's side.

"Please, have a seat," Alicent said stiffly, as she glared at (Y/N). The young She-Dragon nodded, stepping forward to sit in front of Aemond as her loyal advisors followed and soon, the other side of the table was filled with the Blacks.

"We all are aware of the reason for which we gather here," Otto started, glaring quite openly at Rhaenyra's daughter. Alicent glanced at her son, whose gaze was focused on (Y/N).

"So, on behalf of my king, I would like to propose that you and your army kneels to the rightful heir of the realm, Prince Aemond. You all will experience the King's kindness and will not be charged for treason or such."

Cregan scoffed loudly, making Otto glare daggers at the young Lord of Winterfell. (Y/N) sighed tiredly, looking at Cregan as if to ask silently 'what are you doing'.

"My Queen, may I?" Cregan asked formally, making (Y/N) nod. Cregan nodded in gratitude, standing up to meet the eyes of the Greens.

"We all are aware of the person who is the rightful heir, and it is our Princess (Y/N). As a benevolent Queen, she ask you all to kneel before her in peace, and stop the war right here. There is no need for anymore bloodshed to take place, no need for more innocent people to die and face the consequences of our action."

And thus, the verbal fight began between the Greens and the Blacks. Corlys and Cregan defended their queen while the Lannisters and Otto listed Alicent and Aemond's kind actions.

"Can we not discuss this in peace?" (Y/N) asked after a while, fed up of the elders fighting like children for the throne. She looked at her army's commanders scoldingly, glancing at their seats before looking at them.

It seemed Cregan and Corlys were smart enough to get the silent gesture, settling in their seats as they grumbled to themselves. Childish adults, (Y/N) thought to herself while sighing, sinking into her seat as well.

"Grand Maester Orwyle, you have heard the arguments yourself. What do you suggest?" Aemond asked, leaning towards the table, raising a perfect eyebrow at the man.

"My prince, my princess, lords and ladies," Orwyle stood up, nodding at each other as he greeted everyone. "I see potential in both Prince Aemond and Princess (Y/N), and thus, I suggest an alternative. I suggest that the Prince marries his niece and the crown's authority shall be shared between them."

"Princess (Y/N) is already betrothed, maester," Cregan said smugly, his eyes traveling to catch Aemond's. "Betrothals are important, my Queen," Corlys started, looking at (Y/N). "Especially when we are going through a war. Alliances are important," he continued.

"Betrothals and holding alliances are important, but so is putting the war to an end," (Y/N) murmured. "Grand Maester Orwyle, we thank you for the suggestion," (Y/N) said with a smile, making the older man smile widely and sit.

"I agree with maester's idea," Aemond said, looking intensely at (Y/N), who seemed to hesitate a bit. He watched as she turned to look at Cregan and Corlys, her eyes asking for a silent affirmation.

"The suggestion is a valid one, Princess (Y/N). We are aware of your wishes to stop the war and this is the best way to do it," Alicent spoke for the first time. The princess in question could only nod, a sigh releasing from her throat.

Her eyes looked up to find Cregan's. 'What should I do?' She mouthed, noticing Cregan lean in. "Remember all he has done to you. Slayed your brother and fa... step-father," Cregan whispered, his eyes fixed at Aemond.

(Y/N) sighed again and nodded, her eyes finding Aemond's. All the memories she had of her uncle resurfaced one by one, a longing feeling settling in.

"I... I agree with the idea."

The fate was sealed, and the destiny was set. The Greens' faces broke into small smiles as they looked at each other, while the Blacks could only sulk in silence.

"Then it be known, the prince and the princess shall be married within a fortnight and be crowned King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms," Alicent said, standing up. "You are welcome to stay here, in the keep for the duration, Lady (Y/N)."

And so did the journey began of the One-Eyed King and the Crimson Queen.