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omen-of-ice · 9 months

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The North has been all that you’ve known your whole life— residing within its icy landscape as part of House Eirlys; Wardens of the North. You’ve never thought you’d one day leave to head south to Vela’thian— the kingdom of the elvhen— much less that you’d head there due to your betrothal with the king himself.

What will await you once you arrive? Is everything as it seems? Or is there something more brewing beneath the surface of the seemingly pristine nation?

Will you find your way back home? Or will you find something, or someone, worth staying for?

Let’s see how your story unfolds…

❄️ Play as the youngest heir to House Eirlys that’s been arranged to be married to the Elven King. Explore the wondrous world of Arlatha and the great elven nation of Vela’thian and its capital Ilyransari! You’ll meet a variety of characters, uncover plots (varying levels of angst), and potentially find love along the way! This game is rated 18+ for depictions of explicit language, alcohol consumption, potential sexual content, violence/blood, and death.

❄️ Customizable MC: name, gender, appearance, sexuality, hobbies, and some skills. (You can choose to not be attracted to men and tell Daeron, the king, this, don’t worry.)

❄️ Bond with your Lycana— a winged wolf that’ll stay with you until death. Customizable: name, gender, and fur color.

❄️ Explore Ilyransari and learn more about the fantastical world of Arlatha!

❄️ Meet a variety of characters— from reclusive dwarves to hotheaded goblins— that’ll bring unique experiences throughout your story.

❄️ Learn more about your own shrouded past and how you came to be where you are now. Will the truth finally set you free?

❄️ Keep in contact with your older brother— Kaladin. He’ll want to know how you’re doing.

❄️ Romance one of characters from your potential betrothed himself— the Elven King— to an orc commander that takes everything a bit too literally or a creature from the depths of the Vesperion Sea. Or maybe someone else will catch your eye.

❄️ Remember, above all else, to have fun!

Daeron [M] — The King — High Elf

The Elven King himself, a man known far and wide for his prowess in battle and resilience in the face of almost insurmountable odds. You’re not sure why he chose you to be his betrothed— after all he must have received hundreds of requests over the years— but you were instructed to not look a gift horse in the mouth; not when an ally like him would help your family and people immeasurably. With a hardened exterior, from years of battle and sacrifice, Daeron isn’t someone that’s easily accessible in the emotional sense, but you can’t help but notice how his eyes begin to soften every time you enter the room. Will something real begin to grow between you?

Daeron stands at around 6’3” (190.5 cm) with a warm beige complexion. Raven black hair falls across his forehead in gentle curls, a delicately crafted crown always situated atop them. His golden eyes, that seem to rival the sun in brilliance, are filled with a cunning intelligence; he has a toned physique, still holding a lithe quality that all elvhen seem to possess.

Larak [M] — The Commander — Orc

Seeing an Orc within Vela’thian is like seeing a starless night; it happens, but it doesn’t make it any less of an odd occurrence. Not after centuries of war between the Elven Nation and the Infernal Plains. Larak, however, seems to have taken his position in stride, ignoring all the looks he receives without a backward glance. After all, what is an orc to do without his clan? Especially one that was well on his way to becoming a chieftain of his own? Will you give him a reason to stay?

Larak stands at around 7’2” (218.44 cm) with a green complexion. Dark auburn locks are shaved on either side of his head, while the rest is kept in a long ponytail that falls down his back. He’s a hulking mass of muscle and brute strength— his most prominent feature, barring his sharp canines, being the twin scars running down his chest that pairs well with the one through his left eyebrow.

Calypso [F] — The Wanderer — Siren

The Vesperion Sea is an anomaly to most within Arlatha; for a creature from its watery depths to appear means one of two things. 1.) Something bad is about to happen. or 2.) It’s a pilgrimage of sorts that a few depth-striders take up every other decade. Meeting Calypso it’s easy to tell which one she is; her general amazement at the world around her being something that’d warm even the most hardened of hearts. With a desire to learn, and an aptitude to do so, she tries to take everything in stride, observing Vela’thian, and it’s inhabitants, with an ardent fervor that would be quite off putting in any other circumstance. Will you uncover things together?

Calypso stands at around 5’1” (154.94 cm) with a dark brown complexion— iridescent blue scales intercepting the expanse of it across her forearms, collarbone, and sparsely across her legs. The sea green of her gaze complements the deep royal blue of her hair beautifully— the voluminous curls falling down to just beneath her shoulders. She has an hourglass figure.

Shanaera [F] — The Spymaster — Dark Fae

The Royal Spymaster within Vela’thian, Shanaera is the longtime friend, and closest advisor, to Daeron. There isn’t much information about the early life of Shanaera— something she’s gone to great lengths to keep that way— and she’s rarely seen enough by the general populace to get a concrete opinion on. Keeping to the shadows, only appearing in court once in a blue moon, and with walls of ice surrounding her, it’s unsurprising why she has the reputation she does. A woman that’s just as deadly with her words as she is with any blade or poison— getting on her bad side isn’t a smart idea… But is it even possible to get on her good one?

Shanaera stands at around 5’11” (180.34 cm) with a sun-kissed complexion. Locks reminiscent of woven sunlight falls down to her hips in a cascade of gentle waves and soft curls— the strands bringing out the luminescent quality of her amethyst colored gaze. Grand wings of iridescent black are situated on her back, giving her elegantly slender body a broader appearance.

Fáelán [M/F] — The Best Friend — Wildling

You met Fáelán when you were ten years old during a winter ride with your family— something you had done dozens of times before— coming across their slight form underneath a snow drift, after your horse almost trampled them, wasn’t something you had been anticipating, but they haven’t left your side ever since. Not even when they had been offered an escort back to the village deep within The Thaeg; an ancient forest that covers over half of The North. You were best friends from that day onward— one never seen without the other. After all of that, should you truly be all that surprised when your self-appointed guard decides to come along to Vela’thian?

Fáelán stands at around 5’8” (172.72 cm) with a light gray complexion. Strands of hair, the color of which reminds you of freshly fallen snow, fall down to just beneath their shoulders in messy waves— usually kept in a intricate braid— pairs well with the deep crimson of their gaze. Their toned body is a far-cry from the scrawny individual they had been when you first met them— an intricate tattoo making a home on their right arm.

Valerian [M/F] — The Exiled Heir — Draconian

Tales of the land across the Vesperion Sea tell of the grand opulence of Edras— home of the draconian; dragon-kin. Valerian isn’t exactly who you’re expecting when imagining the royal family of Edras, but at the same time they seem to fit right in. With a smile that never reaches their eyes fully, a voice that never has to raise to be heard, and a presence that could command a legion, they bring a slew of questions and very little answers. Why were they cast out? Why are they in Vela’thian? And why do they seem to always find themself in your company? Will you be able to uncover any of these answers?

Valerian stands at around 6’6” (198.12 cm) with a fair complexion. Crystalline blue eyes seemingly burn with a fiery intensity— despite their icy coldness— which brings out the argent quality of their silver locks; M!Valerian keeping them down to his shoulders and F!Valerian keeping hers to her mid-back.

#omen of ice #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interact if #no demo #high fantasy #dashingdon #hosted games #choice of games

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growingstories · 3 days

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The will

Andreas Müller was a handsome, fat, 43-year-old chef who helmed a prestigious Michelin star restaurant nestled in the mountains near Zurich. The restaurant was a family legacy; his grandfather had founded it, and though his father had shown little interest, he still owned it. Andreas, however, had turned the establishment into a roaring success, earning it two coveted Michelin stars through sheer passion and culinary brilliance.

Every month, Andreas' father would visit the restaurant with a new girlfriend, collect an envelope of cash, and leave. Despite this strained relationship, Andreas cherished his own family—his loving wife and two beautiful children. They would eat together every evening in the restaurant before service, reinforcing their tight-knit bond.

His culinary team admired him, ensuring he tasted each dish, brewed him the finest coffees, and ate leftover meals with him after shifts. Over the years, this routine, coupled with his sedentary lifestyle, had led to significant weight gain. His favorite sport, skiing, was now a distant memory as his size made it impractical. Andreas often felt like a father figure to his leaner, more energetic team. The warmth of summer was suffocating for him, making him keenly aware of his desire to lose weight, but the cycle of indulgence persisted, and he gained a few more kilos each year.

Life took an unexpected turn when Andreas' father died suddenly. Out of respect and to arrange the funeral, Andreas closed the restaurant for a few weeks. The resulting stress and absence of excessive food intake led to a surprising few kilos lost, giving him a sense of relief. The departure of his father, while sad, brought a strange sense of freedom.

Two weeks later, just as Andreas planned to reopen the restaurant, he received an urgent call from his father's lawyer, inviting him to the will reading. The lawyer's insistence on keeping the restaurant closed until then sparked curiosity. Andreas mused about the odd request but complied. During the interim, he whisked his wife away to a luxurious spa for five rejuvenating days. They reignited their connection through healthy eating, mountain walks, and even some fitness workouts. Refreshed and lighter, Andreas beamed with newfound vigor as he walked into the lawyer's office.

At the office, Andreas was introduced to Julian, a handsome, muscular 28-year-old. The reading revealed a startling secret: Julian was his half-brother. Their father had accumulated considerable wealth through successful real estate ventures, amassing €50,000,000. The will stipulated that Andreas and Julian would each receive half the inheritance, but only after five years. Moreover, Julian would assume the role of general manager at the restaurant for that period.

Panic set in, and Andreas stormed out of the office. Yet the next morning brought a surprising turn. Julian reached out for a coffee meet-up, and Andreas, intrigued, invited him to the restaurant. They bonded over their shared experiences of an absent father and agreed to the arrangement. The future looked manageable; five years seemed like a fair trade for lifelong financial security.

Julian immersed himself in hospitality, learning the ropes from the team. Mornings were dedicated to studying food and wine, afternoons to menu tastings, and nights to running the shift. His 16-hour workdays bore fruit; the staff valued him, and patrons were charmed by his professionalism.

To Andreas' delight, this newfound balance allowed him to focus on cooking and prepping during the day, leaving evenings to Julian. Andreas even snuck in gym sessions and skiing trips, shedding more weight and rediscovering vitality. His relationship with his wife flourished; they laughed and shared pleasures like teenagers. Meanwhile, Julian, though popular and diligent, struggled to keep his fitness in check amidst the calorie-laden environment and relentless schedule.

As Julian's culinary journey progressed, the team adjusted their focus. They prepped meals, ensuring he tasted everything, leading to increased portions and frequent snacking. The grueling schedule left no room for the gym, and Julian's once-defined abs gave way to love handles.

Andreas, now leaner than ever, radiated health. His marriage thrived, and with the support of his wife, he embraced a slower pace. Julian, despite his growing girth, garnered guest adoration, embodying the restaurant's charm. The stress and fulfillment of his role were addictive, and he convinced himself that cutting down on food was a goal for tomorrow.

Desiring deeper culinary knowledge, Julian enrolled in a part-time prestigious cooking course. Here, he met Conrad, a talented young chef driven by the dream of working at Julian's renowned restaurant. Conrad showcased his skills through irresistible dishes, flirting and impressing Julian along the way.

Their chemistry was palpable, and though Julian remained professional, the allure was undeniable. After evening shifts, Conrad persistently brought more culinary creations, leading to intimate moments. Julian's confidence in his body waned, but Conrad reassured him, emphasizing that a hospitality professional needn't have a six-pack.

Returning from a rejuvenating spa weekend, a thinner and more radiant Andreas advised Julian to moderate his dessert indulgences, a remark Julian brushed off with humor. Conrad's persistent presence and exceptional culinary talent led to an apprenticeship request, with Julian insisting on impressing the team.

In the kitchen, Conrad faced competition from Leo, another ambitious and handsome young chef. Their rivalry birthed extravagant tryouts, pleasing the head chef. Julian, swamped by lavish meals, confided in Conrad, who nonchalantly admired his larger frame. Exhaustion often confined Julian to just laying on his back during sex, yet Conrad's admiration soothed his insecurities.

As the five-year mark approached, Andreas' transformation captivated the media, and his newfound fitness made him a regular on cooking shows. His shifts at the restaurant dwindled, while Julian, now significantly heavier, embraced the role of the restaurant's big-hearted patriarch.

Julian's popularity among guests soared, and Conrad and Leo secured permanent kitchen positions, curtailing their competitive tastings. Julian contemplated his future, ready to ease the pace and shed some weight with his €25,000,000 inheritance. The brothers, having navigated a unique journey, stood poised to honor their father's legacy in their own distinct ways.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgainstories #maleweightgain #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories #wg fantasy #wg fiction #exjock #aiweightgain

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naffeclipse · 9 months

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I'm honored to reveal that I'm @darthsuki's secret Santa for the DCASS2023 event! When I saw that Howl's Moving Castle was one of the movies you love, I was immediately possessed by this AU for the DCA! I had so much fun crafting this fic along with Eclipse, Sun, and Moon reimagined in such a setting, and, of course, the reader! There is so much fluff and romance; I hope that's alright! Please enjoy!

Eclipse's Moving Daycare

Eclipse & Sun & Moon x Reader (SFW)

You can also read this fic on AO3!

Word Count: ~5,500 Warnings: N/A

In the heart of the castle-like structure, smoothly crawling over the snowy mountain peak with bending, robotic appendages that sink claws into the fresh, cold powder, is a room alight by a fire demon. The creaking and grumbling of the house have long since faded into a familiar drone in the background of your senses. A few candles burn and flicker, dripping hot, white wax. The main source of light, in the late hour on a blistering cold night, emits from Sun in golden radiance.

You stand over the fireplace. It holds a small cauldron upon its embers. Water bubbles and pops with gentle wisps of steam rising, rising up into the chimney. Behind you, the great light of the room begins to shift, shadows leaning away from the approaching presence.

“What is my darling brewing tonight?” The fire demon saunters close behind you. Sun’s voice brushes against your ear, flickering with life so powerful, it only leaves ash in its wake. The heat sinks into your back—a soothing reprise from the chill circling the moving daycare. “Could I be of assistance to your crafting?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind, Sunny,” you say softly.

You turn around to face him, almost squinting your eyes against his brilliance. The fire demon flickers with flames, set soft and low in a gentle yellow light. The energy burns over a body of deep, dark charcoal and embers. Red pulses in between the burnt aspects. His head, large and flat like a disk, flickers with a great grin. The very pale center of his eyes holds a blue tint not unlike the very tips of great flames. A crown of red fire circles his face, and you marvel how he has never once burned you—part of his magic, of course. He decides when and who shall be scorched.

“Oh, you haven’t answered me yet.” He looms over you, the fey-being easily entering your space in the way smoke fills the air. “Is it a special potion? Perhaps a liquid that would set itself on fire should someone sing a sour note? Or a drink for trees that allow them to become ready fuel, set to torch the mountainside for a bit of warmth on this dreary winter day?”

You smile. When does he not suggest you concoct some sort of fiery potion? You certainly don’t recall. The fire demon is what he is.

“Neither,” you answer and strip a thorny branch of herb, dried and well preserved, of its flat fronds. You turn away to toss them into the cauldron. “It’s soup.”

The light of the room dims in the briefest moment before flaring with fresh vigor. Dancing heat becomes almost sweltering at your back before a hot hand slips around your waist, wrapping you up in a cozy embrace. Your eyes flutter when Sun’s mouth presses to your shoulder, sharp teeth grazing your skin exposed by the stretched neckline of your tunic.

“We’ll save the pyromania for later, but soup! Yes, that would warm you and Moon and Eclipse.”

“And you.” You hold up the thin dry branch, as he likes it, to the fire demon’s mouth. “I’ll make it for all of us.”

“Oh, I don’t do well with soup. Too watery for my taste,” he says mournfully.

You watch a lick of flame wrap around the branch and pull it into his mouth, leaving your hand empty. His jaw bumps slightly against your shoulder as he chews, fire splitting and cracking the fuel over his tongue. He swallows and the light grows brighter around you. For a moment, you swear you understand what a candle wick feels like sitting in all that great light. He holds you tighter.

“I will make it so you can consume it, too,” you say, and pat his arm as it hugs your waist. The flames flatten underneath your palm, whipping and flaring at your presence, but never biting. A bit of soot smears across your hand. “Now let me get the rest of the ingredients. You’re holding me captive, love!”

He laughs with the boisterous gale of a bonfire. “How else am I supposed to keep you safe on a freezing night such as this!”

“I’m plenty safe with you here, and I’m in need of soup.” You turn your head to catch his twin flame eyes.

When he lets you go, he does so with a smoking sigh as if you intend to leave the moving daycare rather than simply his embrace. You keep your smile to yourself at his theatrics. He remains before the cauldron as you search a few cupboards, gathering several spices, herbs, and a few bits to toss into the soup. You turn to the kitchen counter, the wood rich brown and well worn with your work.

In a few moments, the great cold of the night has taken hold and your shoulders shiver. Setting the glass jars down, you breathe in a rattling breath. It’s getting worse outside. Over the quiet motions of the building shuffling along is the great howl of wind.

You must hurry with the soup. Eclipse will be home soon.

Taking a few ingredients, you turn back around only to be greeted with a fire in your face. Sun grins, the blue in his eyes dancing brightly. You almost drop the spices in your startle.

“Poor thing, you’re shivering! Allow me to warm you up.” The fire demon coos impishly before taking you by the hand. His warmth laces between your fingers. Your other arm is crooked, cradling the glass jars as Sun lays his hand on your waist, and in the fashion of a waltz, spins you the short distance back to the cauldron.

You gasp, pressed tight to his body with little but spice containers between your heart and the deep red pulsing in the fire demon’s chest. The small clinks of glass echo like notes to the movement of the song Sun carries you along to with his swift steps. His crown of flames waver in excitement, snapping and flickering. He sets you down for a moment.

“Oh, you’re already so pink!” He touches your cheek with hot fingertips before slipping away the spices with a small flick of his hand, magically tugging the jars from your grasp and setting them on the edge of the fireplace. You sputter, head spinning in his fiery whirlwind. “There! Aren’t you toasty?”

“Sun!” you laugh. You lay your hands on his chest as he gathers you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. His heat seeps deep into your body, chasing away the awful chill. “I am making us soup! Let me go, you fiery fiend!”

“Ah, but how can I? You’ve bewitched me.” He twists you around—much to your amusement and surprise, dipping you low as you cling to his shoulders. “My darling, I simply can’t let you grow cold for even a breath.”

You melt like mountaintop snow in spring, his pale, lovely gaze burning with intent so promising. You become warm—not of body, but of soul. Slowly, softly, you find his mouth hungrily reaching. You answer with a soft, chaste press of your lips upon his fire, closing your eyes. The light glows through your thin eyelids, sparking blue at the edges in the center of deep, passionate gold. He has never burned you. He never will.

The light increases until it becomes as bright as noon in summer—as bright as his name.

He brings you back to your feet in a careful rise though his hands have yet to unlock from your waist. The distant boiling of the cauldron sends you back to your senses before you lift your head. You gaze adoringly at the fire demon, tasting cedar-turned-ash on your tongue. Reaching with one hand, you run a few fingers through the brightness of his head flames, now tinged with blue at the very tips.

Oh, he’s satisfied.

“I am making soup, and you can’t seduce me away,” you say firmly, before pecking his fiery mouth once more. His teeth almost catch your bottom lip but you manage to slip away.

“But I’m already starving!” He half cries, placing one arm across his forehead in a swoon-worthy of the theater. “If you leave, I will vanish into smoke and soot!”

You reach up into a cupboard dusted with black powder and snatch up one lump of coal, small enough to eat in one bite, and turn around. You promptly set it into Sun’s mouth. His wail is muffled by the press of your fingertips until he begins chewing with a rather disgruntled look. The blue in his eyes pales slightly.

“I’m glad to see you have an appetite.” You smile. “Save the rest for soup.”

The heat lingering in your fingers is warm and tingly. You quickly snatch up a small wicker basket from the counter. The yellow light of the fire demon follows at your back as you make your way across the large living space, the cold quickly returning. Then, you enter a long hallway.

“Stay here,” you call over your shoulder, “I need to fetch a few things from Moon’s room and he doesn’t like you in there.”

A protest around a mouthful follows but you’ve already knocked and quietly opened the door, the room thick with darkness, before shutting it behind you. The fire demon is left in the heat of the living space.

You stand in Moon’s room. The clotting blackness hangs like a mist around your shoulders. You squint into the dark collection of shelves and small comforts, such as loveseats and chaise lounges and of course, several beds shoved up against the wall. You’re not certain if he sleeps in any one of the furnishings—if he sleeps at all.

“Moon?” you call out softly.

The nightly shade shifts in the slightest. Tendrils of shadow creep around you, waving like the petals of a flower before you feel a hand slip over your hip from behind and another hook under your jaw to take your chin.

“Hello, jewel,” he rasps low in your ear. A cool but pleasant shudder falls down your spine.

“Hello, scarecrow.” You allow him to tug you around to face his shadowy visage, his hand caressing your cheek as you gaze up at the fey-being. “Might I get into the food storage? I need beef and potatoes along with a few other vegetables.

His eyes, round as moons and pale red, drink you in. Underneath the brim of an old, sun-bleach straw hat that he stole from a scarecrow, the shadow demon tilts his head to an unnatural degree. A curve of silver light flashes across half of his face, like a coin winking under midnight light.

“Of course.” His body stretches slightly, thin and elongated, like darkness at sunset. A few inky colors of red flare out around his neck and waist, the cold energy wavering about him, before his hands hook into your hips. You gasp once when he effortlessly lifts you off your feet and carries you to a chaise lounge dyed a deep ocean blue.

Your eyes slowly adjust to the stark dimness when he sets you down. He kneels to sweep your ankles up and lay your legs across the couch.

“Moon, I need to get a few things,” you remind gently.

“I’m aware.” He, in a blink of darkness, has your basket in his hand where it swings slightly from side to side. His smile flashes with teeth reflecting a bony color. “Stay here.”

“If you insist,” you give with a chuckle. You lean back until you’re reclined on the cushy backrest, feeling much too elegant for someone who still has potion stains on their apron. “It’s dark now. You can come out. Sun is in the living space with me, helping me cook.”

“ Helping ,” the shadow demon echoes incredulously.

You snicker.

“Yes, he is, and I need your help as well.”

Moon slips into the darker corner that your weak human eyes can’t decipher. Soft rummaging echoes. The storage space is under a hatch in this room, and seeing as it was already so dark behind, Eclipse allows Moon to claim it as his own—provided that Moon allows you access to whatever ingredients you require when you are in need.

You can’t think about Sun’s room without wincing at the amount of ash, gold relics, half-burnt walls, and little fires no doubt still running rampant in there. Eclipse placed a clever spell to keep it from spreading to the rest of the rooms and daycare.

The darkness moves as if ripples in water. You try to peer at a few dolls nestled onto a top shelf above one of the beds, their visage adorned with bows and curls but the strange distortion carries across the room. They must be for when there are children in the daycare again. Moon does love to give gifts to the little ones.

Then, a quiet sound of a wicker basket touching the floor. You jump before registering the slow blink of pale red eyes before you. At the end of the chaise lounge, Moon begins to creep forward. One hand follows the other, sliding along your legs and up your hips before one grabs onto the top of the backrest and the other reaches for your face. He hovers above you like a vulture in the sky.

The shadow demon brushes his thumb over your lips. The cool caress causes you to shiver but not from the cold.

You stay motionless. He hums a low sound; the beginning of a lullaby. He lays a soft touch of a cool knuckle over your cheek.

“Did you get what I ask?” you murmur, distracted by how he strokes the shell of your ear with soothing motions.

“Yes,” he grumbles. You’re glad he can see much better in the dark than you.

“Thank you.” You grin up at him. “Help me make soup, won’t you?”

You slide out from under his shadow. Back onto your feet, you hook the handle of the basket, now heavy with ingredients. You straighten only to find Moon’s sharp teeth curved into a wicked smile before you. In a split second, he pecks your mouth with a rush of midnight cool air and syrup-sweet darkness. You blink.

“You’re welcome.”

You stop him before his form can melt into the darkness. Snatching his wrist as he attempts to slip between your fingers, you step closer. The shadow demon makes a low sound of surprise. You grin as you press forward on your tippy toes into the darkness to find what you hope is his mouth—it often disappears in his face when he’s not actively showing his teeth. You kiss a smooth, satin-soft cheek.

“There, a proper kiss,” you murmur, falling back onto the fall of your feet.

A low, husky breath disagrees. Shadowy coils slip over your arms and your waist, creeping higher and higher until one hangs around your throat like an onyx necklace. The familiar and comforting weight of his embrace encircles you completely.

“No,” the entire darkness seems to whisper in Moon’s rasp, “Let me show you a proper kiss.”

A dark finger tilts your chin up. You find his eyes as ghostly as red moons hanging above you, bathing you in unholy light. Moon hums softly. He lowers his mouth, teeth sharp but yearning, onto yours.

Cool and gentle, the shadow demon tastes your mouth. He presses to your lips in a silent declaration of fondness so sweet, it stains your tongue. His shadowy tendrils softly tightens around you in a tender crush of affection. A little nibble along your bottom lip teases his dangerous jaws, but you only gasp softly, pleased.

He releases you, unwinding from around you to slip behind your back. You, in a near daze, press towards the door and push it open. A soft hiss at the candlelight aggravates Moon for a moment before he adjusts and slithers into the living space. You catch your breath. Sun stands before the cauldron, feeding it logs but leaving it scorched with marks in the shape of his hands.

“Oh, Moon!” Sun turns around with a sharp clap of his hands. Moon hisses when his golden flames spread their light, eating away at the heavy pools of shadow at Moon’s feet. “You have been held up in that dreary room all day! Some company will do your shadows some good.”

“Ease your light,” Moon growls then slinks to a corner near the dark window overlooking the mountain peak. Pale red eyes glare before Sun inclines his head with a mischievous glint, but draws down his flames to a deep orange simmer over his charcoal body.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Sun asks with a much gentler tone.

“Yes,” Moon mutters but eases, the coils of shadows at his feet twisting with a relaxed aspect. “Are you going to sit with us while we dine?”

“Sit? I’m going to dine with you—I’m afraid I haven’t been given a choice!” Sun drops against your shoulder—a feat that would otherwise push you to the ground if he wasn’t holding himself back while maintaining the illusion of slumping over you. His hand immediately takes your own and squeezes it. “Our darling potion maker insists the only options are to starve or eat soup!”

“How can you eat soup?” Moon asks in a curious rasp. His straw hat swivels slightly to focus on you. Playfully, you roll your eyes and reach out to take a small stack of bowls from the cupboard.

There’s so little difference between cooking and the science of potion making, you’ve found.

“Are these doubts for my craft I hear?” you question.

Two sharp objections follow one loud and crackling, the other low and gravelly, causing you to laugh and break away from what was supposed to be a stern facade.

“Good. I won’t hear any more complaints then.” You pat Sun’s cheek though you weren’t certain what part of him you’d end up touching. He’s still hanging onto you with the clinginess of a burr. You fish within the basket to snatch up a paper-wrapped and chilled pound of beef.

“Sun?” You hold up the meat, “If you don’t mind?”

“It would be my pleasure, darling!” He snatches it up, his flames immediately eating away the paper concealing it. He cradles the meat in his palms. You feel his heat shift, concentrating to a steady and low red crackle in the black coals of his hands.

“Please remember to not burn it.” You turn away to search for a sharp knife in the drawers and withdraw one. Sun’s light sheds much-needed aid over the drawers.

“I would never! Well, maybe a little, to make sure it’s cooked and blackened as it crumbles to ash—”

“Sunny.”

“Yes. Not burnt. As you wish.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The light flares for a moment, brighter and brighter, before calming down for poor Moon’s sake. He hisses once. Sun flashes a cheeky grin.

You smile as you turn around, only to jump slightly when Moon is already standing before you, reaching out to take the knife. His half-silver face, reflecting even sharper in Sun’s light, winks. His pale red eyes stare into your own. You shiver in his presence, caught between a revolving world of hot and cold.

“Potatoes, celery, and carrots, Moon, if you don’t mind,” you ask softly.

“Of course,” he answers in a murmur and takes the basket away to work on the opposite end of the counter. You study the kitchen for a moment, pleased.

Moon and Sun both hum a low song they both seem to know. A lullaby of fey beings, you suppose.

Now, you’re missing someone.

A soft woosh sounds outside, right on time. You jump slightly when a metal clank follows as if you haven’t heard his arrival a hundred times.

“Please continue what you’re doing,” you say while dusting your hands on your apron. You rush for the stairs. “Eclipse and I will help when we return.”

“I hope the buzzard isn’t freezing to death,” Sun exclaims, “It’s a brutal night in the cold.”

“He shouldn’t have left,” Moon mutters in an ominous but concerned tone.

You don’t stop to answer them both as you take two steps at a time. He was gone all day. Your heart has been wrung like wet laundry before being hung out to dry. The fool—the wonderful fool.

The howl of the wind grows as you near the outside of the moving daycare. The top of the stairs leads into a long hallway, doors branching off to yours, Eclipse’s, and Sun’s rooms, but you continue forward until you reach the end. There, you push open two frosty glass doors to see who stands on the balcony but Eclipse himself.

The wizard of the moving daycare. The balcony is dusted in snow and the metal gate separating you and him from a severe drop down the mountain face is dark and wrought. You sweep your gaze over him from head to toe and wingtip to wingtip until you’re satisfied. He’s back in one piece.

His wings are intricate mechanisms of bronze and black iron that click softly as gears whirl within the joints and settle at his back. Deep and dark feathers cover the internal workings of the frame, but sometimes, you can catch a metallic glint when he shifts just slightly. A deep red hat, pointy and rumbled, sits upon his disk-like head with bursts of yellow in the fabric. His expression is carved into two—one bright and sunny, the other lunar and dark. His eyes flash, two-toned with yellow and red, upturn in relief. Tall, even taller than Moon and Sun, he bears a willowy aspect in his white shirt and dark trousers. Robotic arms softly click with his movement.

“Eclipse, you’re back,” you say softly. Your breath mists the cruel wind and fierce cold of the mountaintop. You immediately hug yourself, the thin sleeves of your tunic doing little against the blizzard.

“Hello, dearest. I’m terribly sorry for being away all day.” He opens his arms wide. His wings flutter, clicking and clunking with thick sweeps of dark feathers. The electric glow of his eyes softens. “I missed you.”

You run into his arms. Catching you as if you were falling, Eclipse spins you around once before spreading his wings. His plumage falls over you with a gentle breeze and all at once, the wind howls and the bitter cold dies. It is you and him, again.

“Did you find any children in need?” you ask against his chest. He’s terribly cold but you don’t mind as you rest your cheek on his wind-tugged shirt.

“I did. We should make it to the village in two days.” His fingertips stroke the back of your hair, softly scratching against your scalp in a way that lulls you into forgetting every dangerous and terrible thing that could take your loved ones away.

“That’s wonderful.” You press your smile against the metallic plates of his chest. “I’m so glad you came back safe and sound.”

“As I am. Oh! How’s our family?” he asks.

“Sun has missed playing with the children and Moon has more dolls to give away. They were worried about you. Both are helping me make soup.”

“ Helping ? Oh, I’m afraid to see what they’ve done!”

“All three of you are the same,” you snicker, “believing you can’t help me when that’s what all three of you do!”

“Hm, dearest, I don’t believe you understand.” Eclipse’s feathers ruffle when he leans low to press his forehead against your own—the frigid metal sends a great shiver down your back. His eyes glow as soft as starlight. “You are the one who keeps our heads on our shoulders. Without you, Sun would still be running away from angry villagers, Moon would still be trapped to that scarecrow pole, and I… well, I shouldn’t have to tell you how lost I’d be without you.”

His hand takes your own and gently lays it over his chest. Underneath your palm through the fabric of his shirt, a great thrum of a machine pulsates with timed clicks as quiet as a clock. His bronze and geared heart. You did put it back in his chest.

“Both can be true,” you whisper. You close your eyes. “You and Sun and Moon mean so much to me.”

The alternative is desolate. The vision behind your eyelids is sad and abandoned, a little rundown shack in the middle of dirt and rocks, and you, all alone, believing that’s what you deserved for so long. None of your potions would cure you of this wretched existence. You sunk into the numbness.

Until one day a wizard with wings swept by in his moving daycare, cruel and cursed until you found his bronze heart. Then along his adventures, you discovered a fire demon in need of fuel and comfort from running, and a poor shadow demon cursed to be blistered by the sun in his stationary pose, begging for aid and a kind hand.

You found your family, and you found you deserve their love, too.

“We know.” He draws back slightly. Squeezing your hand tenderly, Eclipse holds your gaze with the softness of a gentle night and the hope of rest. “We might not believe it, but we know.”

Despite the freezing temperatures, your heart melts inside your chest. A deep flush heats your cheeks. You wrap your arm around his waist and duck slightly to hide your face.

“Come in before your joints freeze,” you gently insist. Eclipse allows you to drag him inside before he flicks a metallic finger. The door shuts away the brutal winds and the screaming rush. You, at last, sigh, much more content to linger in the slightly warmer hallway and feel his feathers and arms become less frigid, easing your concern.

“Ah, that is immensely better,” Eclipse hums.

He shifts, allowing his wings to lift and tuck behind his back. The beautiful feathers catch on the bit of firelight cast up the stairs, no doubt from Sun’s determined will to cook the meat without burning it. Distant chops of a knife against wood echo in rhythmic knocks, sounding of Moon tending to the vegetables.

“Next time, wait until after the storm, won’t you?” You fix his shirt so that it doesn’t fall so low down his chest—not that you don’t mind the intricate design of his bronze and steel frame, but you do intend to feed him a civilized meal. “I had worried I would have to send Moon to fetch you then thaw you out in Sun’s fire.”

“I apologize again, my dearest heart.” He bends low to cup your cheeks in his cold hands. You shiver once, eyelids trembling. In gentle regret, he strokes your cheekbones. “You worry too much, but I do adore how much you think of me.”

You glance away, frowning. Of course, you think of him and Moon and Sun too much for your own sanity, but how could you not? They’ve captivated you wholly.

He leans closer, drawing your eyes back to his mournful expression. The brim of his deep red hat almost touches your hair.

“Forgive me?” he breathes.

You slowly reach up to cover his hands, rubbing your thumb over the delicate yet strong design of his metallic wrists. The sleeves of his loose shirt are beginning to warm, too.

“I forgive you, always.” You press under the intimate shade of his wizard hat, and Eclipse stills at your smile. “I missed you, too.”

Before he can answer in relief, you lay your lips upon his face plate, over the grin that mystically shifts about his expression as if he were human and not a machine. A taste of the sweet crispiness of apples and the chilly darkness of twilight slips into your mouth. The large hands that cradle your face softly spasm once. Eclipse then captures you, pulling you deeper against him as the teeth of gears and the tangy metal of his mouth give into your affections entirely. Feathers flap softly, and you are concealed in the eclipse of his wings.

He allows you to break briefly away to breathe—he once took your kiss for so long that you fainted in his arms (for which he never stopped apologizing)—and the living hum in his body harmonizes with the great pulse in your chest.

“There,” you murmur. You look up into the wizard’s gaze and how much he’s softened in your embrace. “Come downstairs and let’s eat.”

Eclipse taps your bottom lip once before straightening. A black feather slips from his back but you catch it beside his shoulder before it can slip to the ground. You carefully tuck it into your apron pocket. His eyes upturn into crescents.

“Lead the way, dearest.”

You take him down and into the warm, bright living space, cast in comfortable shadows. The scent of cooking meat causes your mouth to salivate. Eclipse’s wings relax when he views the sight. Moon and Sun lift their heads from their tasks and greet Eclipse with gladness and relief. Their family member is back safe.

“Did you find any children?” Moon rasps low but his eyes wink with piqued interest.

“Yes, several. They’ll need our help once the daycare arrives in a village in two day’s time,” Eclipse nods.

Moon and Sun exchange wide looks of excitement. The shadows below the dark demon stir and flicker. In contrast, the fire demon’s body burns brighter.

“Eclipse, won’t you gather my tiger’s chaudron jar?” you ask with a soft squeeze of your hand around his, “Be very careful. It’s temperament and might fizz and overflow if it's upset.”

“He’s helping with the food?” Sun mocks a great gasp of incredulousness. “I was under the impression you wanted to eat tonight!”

“Oh, stop it, you,” you chastise before leaning over the table to press a kiss to his hot cheek. Straightening, you release Eclipse’s hand to stand close behind Moon and slide your hand over his arm to gather a few chunks of potato he’s cut for you. “Thank you, dollface. Here, let me take these to the cauldron.”

“I will do my best,” Eclipse promises in amusement before flitting back upstairs with a soft breeze under his wings.

“Oh, he’s far too cold. I can feel how much heat he’s lacking,” Sun chitters in that rapid-fire concern of his. You silently direct him to add the meat to the cauldron.

“You’ll sit beside him while we eat, won’t you?” you plead softly. Nabbing a wooden spoon, you begin to stir the contents. Sun wraps an arm around your waist and presses his blissful warmth against your side.

“If he won’t mention anything about me setting his wings on fire—which was once, mind you!”

Moon snickers. You press a hand over your mouth to stop a chuckle.

“Yes, I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” you nod. “Moon, can you bring the rest of the vegetables?”

He slips behind you silently. When you turn your head to find him, you jump slightly at how little distance is between you and his dark form. Smiling wide, he reaches a hand over your shoulder and plops the remaining carrots and celery in.

“Oh. Thank you.” You quickly catch his chin and plant a kiss against his cool, smoky jawline. Moon becomes still as night. His eyes gleam with quiet delight before he slips his hand under your elbow and begins softly caressing his long, inky fingers along the sensitive underside of your arm while you stir.

A gentle ruffle of feathers glides in behind you. Before you can turn your hand and break away from the two demons, metallic arms slide over your shoulders and gingerly uncap one of your potion jars. A green clump of flowers falls into the cauldron. The concoction briefly throws small emerald flames about the surface—the key ingredient to allow Sun to consume it, as well as providing a slight spice to the dish. It will feed you all.

Eclipse’s hand withdraws only for a moment before reappearing to gently slide underneath your jaw and trace the bone tenderly. The familiar presence of the wizard with his chin resting on the crown of your head warms you, and you sigh softly.

Surrounded by fey beings and their great powers, they attach to your presence as if you were a great sorcerer and not a humble potion maker. Their hands warm and cool you. Their bodies softly press against your ribs and spine. They don’t mind sharing.

You have your family, and they have you.

You take out the spoon with one satisfied tap against the rim of the cauldron.

“Soup’s ready, my sweethearts.”

#DCASS23 #darthsuki #eclipse x reader #moon x reader #sun x reader #eclipse's moving daycare #Merry Christmas from an automaton angel #a scarecrow demon #and a fiery pyromaniac!#ao3 link

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nickeverdeen · 4 months

Note

wahoo !!! are your requests awake ? immediately fell inlove with how you wrote five﹐and i knew i had to send in mail !!!

five x gn ! reader which he met an ordinary / average person﹐until they come in some ‘ unexpected combat ’ & something in them triggers their powers. ( you can choose their superpower﹐or keep it not said. )

i was thinking; they weren't drugged like Viktor﹐they were just unaware of their superpowers ? thank yew !!!

Yep, they’re awake and thanks for the request!

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Five x gn!reader who he thought is ordinary, but is proved wrong (hcs)

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Warning: Fighting, shooting, attempted murder

Reader’s power: Bioluminescent constructs

Definetion of Reader’s power: Creating objects using light emitted by living organisms, like fireflies, for combat purposes like creating weapons, shields or barriers

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After another long day Five, seeks a moment of respite from the chaos of his own thoughts

He finds himself drawn to a quaint coffee shop tucked away in the bustling city streets

The coffee shop has a steady hum of conversations in the backround and comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee

It seems like a paradies for Five

Suddenly Five’s attention is unexpectedly captivated by the presence of a seemingly ordinary individual seated alone at a nearby table

Despite his initial reservations, as soon as he got his coffee, Five decides to strike up a conversation with the enigmatic stranger, drawn in by you for some reason

As you engage in idle chit-chat, Five finds himself surprisingly at ease in your company, your easy banter providing a welcome distraction from the weight of his own burdens

Though Five initially views you as just another face in the crowd, he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something different about you

It’s a sense of familiarity that he can’t quite place

As your conversation comes to an end and you start to part ways, Five can’t help but feel a lingering curiosity about you

Your brief interaction leaving a lasting impression on him

As Five navigates the crowded city streets, his senses alert him to the presence of shadowy figures lurking in the shadows, their sinister intentions veiled beneath a facade of normalcy

Assassins from Comission, a lot of them

Before he can react properly, the air is rent with the sharp crack of gunfire as the agents of the Commission make their move, their weapons trained on Five with deadly precision

Panic surges through Five as he realizes the gravity of the situation, his mind racing as he teleports a bit away from the chaos unfolding around him

As soon as Five regains his composure he starts fighting as the years of working for the Comission pay off to him

During the fight Five is too preoccupied with the assassins near him to notice the ones in distance

As soon as they fire Five realizes that he’s about to get hit as he won’t make it in time

As the loud shooting continues you feel a small pain in your veins and the pain worsens the more your body tensing when the shooting continues

Just when it seems as though all hope is lost for Five, a sudden surge of bioluminescent energy erupts from you as the loud shooting triggers your powers

Your powers awakening in a blaze of light and energy as they instinctively shield Five from harm creating a barrier to shield him and the bullets dodge back into the shooters

With newfound clarity, Five watches in disbelief as you unleashe your formidable abilities

Your constructs of light and energy manifesting with dazzling brilliance in the darkness

As soon as Five realizes that you obviously are also new to this power he springs into action, his movements fueled by a surge of adrenaline as he engages the assassins with you while keeping an eye on you

With each attack exchanged and each foe vanquished, you and Five draw closer together

Your movements synchronized in a seamless display of teamwork and coordination

As the last assassin dies against the might of your combined forces, Five immediately starts to check-up on you making sure you’re alright and your power is at bay

Once you’re both safely in more private setting, Five wastes no time in confronting you about the extraordinary display of power he witnessed, his curiosity piqued as he never saw a power like that

You’re meanwhile, hesitant to reveal too much too soon, while still being shaken up and confused from what happened

As soon as Five notices your distress he quickly starts calming you down and explain what’s happened and what your powers mean and do

As you engage in a serious conversation, you and Five find yourselfs opening up to each other in unexpected ways, in order to figure things out

By the end of your discussion, you and Five reach a mutual understanding and accept his offer to help you control your powers while studying them in the process

Though the path ahead may be uncertain, Five makes sure you know you can rely on him and tell him anything

At the end of the day to calm your nerves he takes you to his favourite coffee shop and pays for everything while trying to make you feel safe

Over time you and Five learn to respect each other and you feel safe around Five and open up to him about any of your problems

#request #headcanons #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five tua #tua five #number five x reader #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #five x reader #number five #Bioluminescent constructs #superpowers #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves hcs

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happilyhertale · 1 year

Text

Voiceless - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Summary: As the princess of the realm, the gates of the world are open to you. But after one fateful night, everything seems to change for you.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

Another story, requested by a dear Anon (: Thank you for this request!

I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Warnings: Violence, blood, fluff

Word count: 3.5 k

Other stories of mine

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You lean your body against the wall and feel the coldness of the walls flow through your body, while distant echoes reach your ears. The graceful footsteps of servants echo through the corridors, accompanied by soft conversations that float delicately in the air. You hold your breath anxiously and remain hidden, fearing that the slightest sound might betray your presence. Only when the whispers have faded and you are sure they are gone do you let out a sigh of relief and the tension in your chest eases.

With newfound courage, you carefully disengage yourself from the wall. With a deliberate step, you walk through the winding corridors of Driftmark Castle. The dimly lit corridors, a secret labyrinth of shadows and secrets, bear witness to your clandestine excursion. Unnoticed by the outside world, you have escaped from your chambers, driven by a longing to glimpse the heavens once more before returning to the turbulent confines of King's Landing.

You have heard much of the island's enchanting night sky, where the stars appear with effortless brilliance, undisturbed by the burdens of a densely populated city. In this vast expanse of darkness, the stars shine, casting their celestial glow on the calm waters that surround the shores. And so, driven by this longing, you navigate the corridors of the castle, propelled by an inexplicable pull towards the sky that dances above the shores of Driftmark.

The day was accompanied by sadness and cast a shadow over the hours that passed. Your mother urged you and your brothers to be moderate. You were not supposed to frolic, but just stay by your family's side. So you and your brothers mostly just stood around nodding and smiling at the adults occasionally. But all you really wanted to do was frolic in the dunes with Aemond.

Today was the sad occasion of Laena Velaryon's funeral, a painful spectacle. Her daughters Baela and Rhaena have your full sympathy. The very thought of suffering such a devastating loss as that of your own mother Rhaenyra sends a shiver down your spine.

Lost in thought, you approach the exit of the castle. Your reverie was abruptly interrupted, however, and you were jolted back to reality as you perceive low murmurs that soon swelled to a tumultuous clamour. The echoes of discontent turned into cries of frustration and carried the weight of a brewing tantrum. You quicken your steps and approach the source of the uproar, only to be abruptly stopped.

You thought you were the only one awake. Yet here are your brothers standing in front of Aemond and they are shouting at each other. Baela and Rhaena are behind your brothers. You notice immediately that no one is standing next to Aemond. You walk towards the group, but no one seems to be paying attention to you.

"What's going on here? Jace?" you ask.

Jace finally turns his head to you, "Go back to bed, y/n!" he says to you.

But you don't listen to him. You walk on and stand next to Aemond. You see the corners of Aemond's mouth pull up briefly and barely noticeably.

"What's going on here?" you ask again.

"Aemond has claimed Vhagar! Vhagars is our mother's dragon!" shouts Rhaena.

Your eyes grow wide. 'Aemond has what?‘ – immediately pops into your mind. But you can't help feeling a little proud for Aemond.

"Your mother is dead," Aemond says suddenly. Your head snaps to the side, "Aemond!" you hiss.

But Aemond seems to pay you no mind, "Vhagar has a new rider now!" he says proudly.

"It was my right to claim her!" retorts Rhaena.

Before Aemond can reply, you lightly take his arm and try to pull him back a little. You know that arguments between them can escalate quickly.

"Rhaena... it is not written down anywhere who can claim which dragon and when..." you say quietly. "Dragons decide for themselves who they want as a rider," you say a little more confidently now.

Rhaena gives you an angry look, "How would you know? Has your mother died yet? Have you had any experience with who claims her dragon?" she hisses at you.

You are a little startled and take a small step back.

"Shut your filthy mouth," chimes in Aemond and suddenly he shoves you behind him.

"Maybe your cousins will find a pig for you to ride. It would suit you," he says with a sneer.

Rhaena suddenly goes for Aemond, but he grabs her and pushes her to the ground. When Baela suddenly stands in front of him and punches him in the face. He didn't expect that, he goes down. You cry out slightly.

As if of your own accord, you suddenly stand next to Baela and push her away to keep her away from Aemond.

Aemond gets back up, looking hateful. He has clenched his hands into fists and is breathing heavily.

"Attack me again and I'll feed you to my dragon!" he says angrily but still with pride.

You look to him, "Don't do that Aemond..," you say quietly.

He looks at you, his gaze softening a little. But he is immediately distracted again when he notices Jace coming towards him.

But it's too late, Jace punches him square in the face. You cry out.

"No! Jace!" you scream, trying to pull him away, but Jace just shoves you aside. He tries to hit Aemond again. He punches several times in Aemond's direction, but to no avail. Aemond deflects each blow. Until Aemond kicks at Jace and he simply goes down.

Suddenly there is a scream from Luke and he tries to go for Aemond. But Aemond just punches him in the face.

"Aemond!" you shout, and run to Luke, who is on the floor. His nose is bleeding and he is whimpering softly. You try to comfort him.

When you turn back to Aemond, you see the others coming at him. Aemond is lying on the ground and the others are standing over him. They kick and hit him. You stroke Luke's head once more before running back over to the others. You get hold of Rhaena's hair and pull her away from Aemond. She struggles, but you push her away, "Stop it now!" you shout at her.

Jace turns to you briefly when he hears you scream. But at that moment Aemond kicks him to the ground again.

Aemond stands again, breathing heavily. Luke goes towards him, but Aemond just grabs him by the collar. Suddenly you notice him holding a rock in his other hand and raising it menacingly. You are too frightened to react.

"You will die in the flames, just as your father did!" he hisses at Luke.

You just gasp out, "Aemond! Stop that right now!"

But Aemond is too angry to even notice anything else

"Bastards," he says hatefully.

"Aemond! Are you out of your mind?" you say angrily. You walk towards the two of them. Luke just whimpers softly, "But my father is still alive..," he says quietly.

Aemond looks surprised, "He doesn't know, does he? Lord Strong?" he says.

"Aemond. Stop it right now," you say to him again.

Luke has tears in his eyes

But suddenly Aemond pushes you to the ground and now you're irritated, but then you see Jace coming at Aemond with a dagger. It takes you too long to process this.

But then Aemond hits Jace with the stone. You get up and go back to Aemond, wanting to pull him away from the group, "Stop that, Aemond! Come with me" you shout.

You turn back to Jace and at that moment you feel a searing pain. You grab your neck and your hands are instantly wet. You hear a blade fall to the floor. You immediately look to Aemond in panic, tears are in your eyes. You are in pain and you start breathing faster. You can't scream and you panic even more. But instead Aemond screams.

"I will let you burn!!! You will die for this!!!" he screams over and over. You slump down and cry silently.

"No!", Aemond shouts and is immediately at your side.

"It's going to be alright! Y/n! Please..," Aemond says almost pleadingly.

"Y/n!" shouts Jace as he realises what he has done, kneeling beside you as well.

Aemond stands back up. He breathes heavily and feels an incomprehensible rage inside him. The rage inside him feels like nothing he has ever felt before. He still has the stone in his hand. He lets his gaze wander to the stone as his chest rises and falls, heavier and faster, again and again. He raises his hand and wants to hit Jace with the stone.

When all of a sudden Luke yells out. At the high-pitched scream, you look up. He has the blade in his hand and swings it.

Aemond notices too late, but suddenly he screams out and holds his eye. You have never heard such a pained scream. You push Jace away from you, desperately trying to crawl over to Aemond. By now your hands are covered in blood and dust, your own pain completely forgotten. You kneel by Aemond's side and are only distantly aware of Jace shouting at Luke. It slowly dawns on both of them what they have done. Rhaena and Baela stand terrified in the corner, not daring to say anything.

You, on the other hand, want to say something. You try to speak. You open your mouth and try to force words out of you. But no matter how hard you try, your throat only hurts. Every time you try to say something, it feels like nails are being driven into your throat and more blood runs down your throat. The front of your dress is now soaked with your blood.

You grab Aemond by the shoulder and try to turn him towards you. As he lies on his back, he whimpers and you see more blood. Your whimpering mingles with his and you let out a soundless scream. His blood mixes with yours on your dress as you lean down and try to embrace him.

Suddenly the Kingsguard comes running.

Tears run down your face. But the tears are not an expression of pain, but of helplessness. Because Aemond lies screaming on the ground and you can do nothing to help him. His hand covers his left eye. More and more blood seeps through between his fingers.

You are only distantly aware of being taken aside, you only have eyes for Aemond.

Everything happens so quickly. And the next moment you are in the throne room. The wound over Aemond's eye is being stitched. He is sitting on a chair and a maester is standing in front of him. You are lying on a couch with two maesters bending over you. You have been given poppy juice and are light-headed. After the bleeding has stopped, your throat will be stitched. Tears keep running down your face. When the maesters have finished, you turn your head to Aemond. You see him contort his face in pain as the maester applies the needle. You try to sit up, but the maesters push you back.

"You should lie down for a while, princess," says one of the maesters.

You want to answer, but when you open your mouth, no words pass your lips.

The maesters cast a meaningful glance at each other. At that moment your mother comes storming into the throne room. She goes worriedly to your brothers and hugs them briefly. But quickly she continues to look around, her eyes searching for you. And then she sees you and horror is written all over her face.

She comes rushing towards you.

"Y/n!" she calls. With her soft hands she takes your face in her hands.

"My girl, what's wrong?" but you can't answer and that scares you even more. Tears well up in your eyes. Your mother looks at the maesters, "What is going on? Why can't my daughter speak?" she asks demandingly.

And then the maesters explain to her that you will probably never be able to speak again.

"A silent princess...", your mother murmurs with tears in her eyes.

Some years have passed since then and you have come to terms with the situation as best you can. The scar on your throat has healed completely, but it still makes you uncomfortable. In the evening, you sit in front of the mirror and apply ointments to the scar, hoping that one day it will hardly be visible. But you can't stand the sight of it for long.

Usually the scar is covered with a scarf to hide it from prying eyes. You are very ashamed of it and it burdens you even more that you can never speak to the lords and ladies of the court. Nevertheless, you have learned to observe your surroundings carefully and to notice the smallest changes.

But this has also led to increasing isolation. Still, Aemond can be found by your side most of the time. Even before the accident you had felt a certain closeness to each other, but now you are connected because of your shared loss. Aemond shares much of his day with you, telling you about the books he is reading. Sometimes he even assures you that you are not missing anything by not taking part in the conversations at court, as they are all trivial and boring.

And you answer him tirelessly with the art of writing. Every morning, when the busy maids help you to dress, you carefully tie a small roll of parchment around your wrist. In a tiny pocket that you have carefully attached to your dress is a precious piece of charcoal. These humble tools serve as channels for your communication.

On this roll of parchment you write all the feelings and thoughts you wish to convey. Your bold and solemn as well as sometimes cheeky responses find their eternal place on this paper that will forever go down in history. Somehow you like the idea that everything you share will be recorded. Unless, in a fit of frustration, Aemond throws your cheeky answers into the nearest fire and tries to give you an annoyed look. Then you can't help a slight chuckle.

Over the years, feelings have been stirring within you. You have watched Aemond grow into an impressive young man. Even in his clothes you notice the muscular development of his body through his hard training. This thought pleases you immensely. Sometimes you cannot suppress a giggle when you meet him after training - sweaty and breathing heavily. Aemond then looks at you in confusion, but you just shake your head as your cheeks redden slightly.

Likewise, you enjoy your quiet moments together. You just sit together then, giving each other comfort. Just as you suffer from your scar, Aemond suffers from the scar that adorns his face. And he cannot cover it as easily as you can cover yours. But your conscience still torments you often because you could not protect Aemond back then. You may have lost your voice, but Aemond has lost half his sight. Since birth, he has had to fight for everything he has, and it seems that nothing will ever change. But the fact that you could not prevent your brothers from going against Aemond and that he had to give up his eye for it, eats away at you and gnaws at your inner self.

When the overwhelming feeling spreads through you, you do not even seem worthy to enjoy his presence or attention. As you stand in the training yard one day, your thoughts are once again corroded by this guilt. An uneasy state fills your chest and a pressure makes itself felt. Suddenly, however, you are torn from your thoughts. Aemond stands before you and a smile adorns his face.

"I have not seen you at all today," he says softly and his smile widens.

You smile too and take your small roll of parchment in your hand.

"I've been hiding from you," you hold out to him on the paper.

He chuckles briefly and suddenly holds out a small flower to you

"I saw this and thought of you," he says softly. With delicate grace, his fingertips caress a delicate strand of your hair and gently stroke it behind your ear. As if guided by nature's whisper, he lovingly nestles a flower in your curls and adorns you with an enchanting touch.

You are overwhelmed by the sheer grace of his gentleness

"Will you wait for me until the training is over?", Aemond asks you, but your mind drifts, deaf to his words.

The suffocating weight in your chest persists and grows stronger. It feels almost unbearable that he has such endearing qualities and showers you with care while you have been powerless to protect him from the clutches of your own brothers who are responsible for his painful loss.

"Y/n?", Aemond asks you again to get your attention.

"I can't read your mind yet, you have to write it down," he says teasingly.

But your eyes suddenly fill with tears – Aemond's gaze instantly panics.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" he asks. He wants to caress the softness of your cheek to soothe you. Unfortunately, fate intervenes and as he reaches out to caress your cheek, you turn and hurry away. Aemond is visibly irritated, but he cannot resist and follows you.

"Hey! Y/n, what's wrong?", Aemond calls after you.

You walk into the gardens and wipe away your tears.

By the rose bushes, Aemond reaches you and grabs you almost gently by the arm. He turns you towards him and you look at him.

"Hey..." he says gently, wiping away your tears.

"Tell me what's wrong," he adds.

You hesitate at first. But then sob quietly and then take the parchment in your hand.

"I'm sorry," you write simply.

Aemond reads these words again and again. His eye dart over the paper, as if he wants to grasp something that is between the lines and still eludes his eye.

"What exactly do you want to apologise for?" he asks you quietly after a while.

You sob quietly and start writing again.

"That I could not prevent it," he reads next.

Again his eye dart over the paper several times.

He looks up, "That you couldn't prevent what exactly?" he asks you.

Now you are starting to look annoyed.

"Pardon me, y/n, I can't figure it out," he says.

You write again, "I thought you were smart?" reads Aemond this time.

He looks up at you again.

"What's bothering you?" he says and sighs.

You start again

"I couldn't stop Luke from taking your eye. I left you alone, so to speak... It still gnaws at my conscience," with each word Aemond reads, his lips move slightly. He slowly looks up at you.

"You silly... It's not your fault I lost my eye after all... You didn't swing the dagger," Aemond says softly.

But you shake your head and start writing again.

"I should have stopped Jace and Luke... I could have done more. I should have just taken you and walked away with you. Neither of us would have been hurt. You could still see with both eyes and I wouldn't have to write on those stupid pieces of paper. I don't deserve your attention," you hold out to him on the paper.

Tears well up in your eyes again and as Aemond looks back up, shaking his head slightly.

"No," he says simply, taking your face in his hands.

"No. It's not your fault," he says to you. With his thumb he gently wipes a tear from your cheek.

"If it hadn't been for you, far more would have happened. Perhaps one of us wouldn't be alive," he says to you.

You want to shake your head again, but his hands won't let you.

"I don't care how much you resist... it's not your fault and you are the only person on this cursed earth who deserves my attention," he says softly.

You notice him slowly lean forward. Your breath catches and before you realise what is happening, his soft lips are on yours. Gently they nestle around your lips. You close your eyes and give in to the feeling.

His tongue explores yours and the feeling of being so close to him is as sweet as a warm summer day. You feel the warmth emanating from him and it envelops you completely.

After a short time, Aemond releases his lips from yours. He leans his forehead against yours.

"Don't ever think like that again... You saved my life... In that horrible night and afterwards... When you were always by my side," he whispers, his lips inches from yours. You just smile and let your lips meet his again.

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Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @believeinthefireflies95

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hisui-dreamer · 9 months

Text

ode to the heir of the underworld

Pairing: Idia Shroud x gn!reader

Synopsis: you would always be willing to stay by his side, no matter how gloomy he might be

Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for idia, bot proofread

Word count: 618

Notes: happy birthday idia!! fr he was the only character i hated when I started twst, but he's grown a lot of me ever since and seeing his dialogue is always so refreshing hahaha

Masterlist

Your lover is always nervous when he's talking to other people. And though it's a formidable shadow in his life, the rare moments of tranquillity that come with your presence hold a gentle beauty. The subtle relaxation, the easing of tense shoulders, and the softening of his guarded expressions—it warms your heart that he can breathe freely around you. In those fleeting instances, when his guard lowers, you see the true essence of his being, and it's in those vulnerable, unfiltered moments that your affection for him grows even deeper.

Your lover harbours a tempest within, a brewing storm that can be triggered by the smallest of things, though it's rarely aimed in your direction. It’s an anger that flares, but it's also a blaze that swiftly extinguishes itself, dissipating at the slightest touch of understanding or reassurance. You're slightly ashamed to admit it, but watching him burst into smoldering, golden flames is ever so slightly amusing.

Your lover holds his younger brother in the highest regard, showering him with unconditional adoration and protectiveness. He takes crafting custom upgrades, playing video games together, and doting on him with an earnestness that knows no bounds. It's incredibly heartwarming just how he's willing to go the distance just for his little brother.

Your lover has no boundaries in scientific creation when he is sparked by motivation. The dormant genius ignites within him, birthing ideas that defy the confines of convention. From the meticulous coding of new programs to the intricate design of futuristic gadgets, his creativity dances on the edge of brilliance. It's in these rare moments that you can see him fully as the technology genius he always was.

Your lover's excitement about the various games and anime that interest him truly rival a child. His eyes alight with a fervour that's infectious, and his words spill forth in a torrent, carrying with them a depth of knowledge and excitement that's utterly captivating. It's a large contrast between the gloomy man who always thinks the worst of every situation. In these moments where he allows himself to hope, you find yourself enchanted by the sheer intensity of his spirit, revelling in the privilege of glimpsing the vibrant core of his being.

Your love how, behind closed doors, he reveals a side that contrasts starkly with his reserved demeanour. He becomes the definition of affection and clinginess, seeking closeness and reassurance in your presence. His walls crumble, allowing vulnerability to emerge as he leans into cuddles, lingering embraces, and moments where he simply revels in your warmth. In these private spaces, he's unafraid to express his longing for connection, finding solace in the intimacy shared between you both, relishing every opportunity to be close and cherished.

Your love how he holds you as something delicate, a precious treasure he fears losing in the whirlwind of his own fears. In the quiet moments, he showers you with a tenderness that speaks volumes, his touch gentle as if afraid to break the fragile connection you share. He navigates your relationship with cautious steps, always nervously watching for signs of distance, a silent fear etched in his eyes that you might one day decide to leave. His actions, though at times hesitant, speak volumes of the depth of his affection, a love that seeks to protect and cherish every moment spent by your side.

Your lover is an enigmatic cosmos of emotions and complexities, a constellation of fears and passions, each shining with its unique brilliance. You share a love that dances amidst the stars, navigating the nebulae of his complexities, finding beauty in the intricate patterns of his soul.

Your lover, is none other than Idia Shroud.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia

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romerona · 3 months

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Stellar Veil

In which a star falls in Westeros.

Cregan Stark x reader????

Words 1.7k

The night draped Westeros in its customary shroud, stars flickering like cold diamonds against the dark tapestry of the sky. And yet, amidst this celestial dance, a singular brilliance unfolded—a comet, resplendent in its fiery tail, streaked boldly across the heavens.

In King's Landing, where ambition and conspiracy brewed as thick as the city's smog, the Red Keep stood sentinel against the cosmic display. Nobles and commoners alike were drawn to its battlements and gardens, their faces upturned in wonder and trepidation. The comet's golden glow suffused the city, casting shadows that danced across cobblestones and whispered secrets into the night.

Far to the west, where the Iron Islands gripped the tempestuous seas, sailors paused in their dance with the waves. From the deck of every longship, weathered faces turned skyward, witnessing the comet's passage mirrored in the restless waters below. Above them, the ancient castle of Pyke seemed to hold its breath, its jagged silhouette outlined against the blaze.

Across the tumultuous waters of the Narrow Sea, the comet's brilliance reflected off the prow of Braavosi merchant ships and the galleys of the Free Cities. Sailors, traders and slaves hardened by salt and sea, paused in their endless voyages to witness this divine occurrence.

In the Reach, where the verdant fields of Highgarden stretched beneath a canopy of stars, peasants and nobles alike paused. They gazed heavenward, their hearts filled with awe and mistrust, as tales danced upon their lips.

And in the North, where the night was as black as obsidian and the stars burned with an icy intensity, the comet blazed its final path. Its light pierced the veil of mist hanging over the haunted forest and the desolate lands beyond. There, amidst the sentinel trees and the solemn silence of the far North, the comet's radiance flared brightly before vanishing beyond the horizon.

South of the Wall, in the desolate expanse known as the Gift, the comet's descent shattered the silence of the frozen wilderness with fierce force. A blinding flash of light, brighter than the pale moon above, rent the night asunder. The ground trembled violently beneath the celestial impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the thick crust of snow that covered the ancient land.

As the earth ceased its violent tremors, silence descended upon the northern wilderness like a heavy cloak. The Night's Watch, vigilant guardians of the Wall and the realms of men, stood amidst the aftermath of the comet's impact, their faces etched with awe and apprehension.

Commander Ulric Rivers, a grizzled veteran of many winters, surveyed the scene with a mixture of curiosity and concern. His voice cut through the lingering echoes of the crash, commanding attention from the assembled rangers.

"Brothers," he intoned, his words carrying the weight of authority earned through years of service beyond the Wall. "Gather your gear. We must survey the impact site."

The rangers, seasoned men clad in black with weapons and fur-trimmed cloaks, exchanged glances of determination. Among them, Harald Snow, a knight of the Watch known for his keen eye and steady hand, stepped forward.

"Commander," Ser Harald spoke, his voice steady despite the tension that hung in the air, "We will go. We'll bring back word of what we find, true as steel."

Commander Ulric nodded in approval, his expression grim but resolute. "Go swiftly, and return with all haste. The hour is late."

With that, the rangers set forth, the horses steps crunch on the icy ground as they ventured towards the crater that marked the comet's violent descent. Behind them, the rest of the Night's Watch remained vigilant, their eyes trained upon the northern horizon where the comet's trail still lingered faintly in the night sky.

The rangers approached the crater cautiously, their breath visible in the frigid air as they navigated the transformed landscape. The snow around the impact site had melted into a steaming morass, revealing scorched earth and jagged fragments of rock still glowing faintly with residual heat. The air hummed with a strange, palpable energy, casting an otherworldly glow over the scene.

Ser Jaremy Woodbear, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, led the way with Harald Snow close behind. Their sharp eyes scanned their surroundings, taking in every detail with the precision of a seasoned watchman. Beside them, Alexio Stone, a stoic figure with weathered features and a keen intellect, knelt to examine a particularly large fragment of rock that jutted from the ground like a blackened tooth.

"Careful now," Harald Snow cautioned, his voice a low murmur that carried on the wind. "We don't know what this rock may hold. Keep your wits about you."

Ser Jaremy Woodbear, ever vigilant, was the first to notice the form inside the crater—a woman.

"Ser Harald, come, there's a woman..." Jaremy called out quietly, his voice carrying a note of awe and uncertainty.

Harald Snow hurried to his side, his eyes narrowing as he beheld the scene before him. Nestled amidst the charred remnants of the comet's impact lay a figure unlike any he had seen in his years ranging away from the Wall. A woman, an ethereal woman. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a faint glow, casting gentle reflections upon the jagged rocks that surrounded her.

"Gods be good," Harald muttered under his breath, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. "What in the name of the Seven Kingdoms...?"

Alexio Stone slowly made his way down and knelt beside the woman, his weathered hands hovering uncertainly above her prone form. "She... she's glowing,"

The woman lay still, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that seemed out of place amidst the chaos of the impact site. Her hair, a cascade that shimmered like moonlight, framed a face that could have graced the halls of the most illustrious castles in Westeros. Despite the harshness of her surroundings, an air of tranquility radiated from her presence, as if she were untouched by the violence that had torn through the night.

"She does not seem a threat. We'll take her back to Castle Black,” Harald decided finally, his gaze lingering upon the woman's enigmatic form. "Ser Jaremy, help me carry her."

With careful hands, the ranger lifted the unconscious woman from the heart of the crater, cradling her as gently as if she were made of glass. Her ethereal glow seemed to pulse faintly in response to the touch, but as they traveled, the ethereal glow that had surrounded her began to dim, fading like the dying embers of a once brilliant fire. Her radiant presence dwindled until she appeared as any ordinary woman, though her beauty still held a haunting quality that spoke of otherworldly origins.

Harald Snow glanced at her intermittently, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "Keep an eye on her," he instructed the rangers quietly, his voice carrying a rare note of uncertainty. "We know not what we carry."

The journey back to Castle Black was fraught with quiet tension, each step echoing with the weight of their extraordinary discovery. The woman remained unconscious, her features peaceful yet arcane as if she carried secrets woven into the very fabric of her being.

As the gates of Castle Black creaked open to admit the weary party, all eyes turned towards the mysterious woman cradled in the arms of Ser Jaremy Woodbear and his fellow rangers. The men of the Night's Watch gathered in hushed clusters, their faces etched with curiosity and apprehension as they beheld the ethereal beauty now brought within their walls. Commander Ulric Rivers stepped forward to greet them, his brow furrowed in stern inquiry. His gaze locked onto the woman.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ulric Rivers demanded, his voice cutting through the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the assembled ranks. His eyes narrowed with suspicion, though beneath the stern exterior, there flickered a hint of curiosity and perhaps even concern.

Harald Snow, unwavering in the face of his superior's scrutiny, stepped forward with measured resolve. "We found her at the site of the comet's impact," he explained evenly, his tone betraying none of the awe he felt at the mysterious woman's presence thought he hesitated to continue. "She… appeared to be glowing.”

The courtyard fell silent as the gravity of their discovery settled over the assembled brothers. Whispers filled the air, mingling with the chill wind that swept down from the Wall, most not believing, saying it was a wildling woman, others whispering about sorcery.

Ulric Rivers approached the woman with cautious steps, his gaze assessing her with a mixture of scepticism and a begrudging acknowledgement of the inexplicable. Her ethereal beauty was undeniable—a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings of the ancient stronghold. Her hair, a shade that shimmered iridescently in the torchlight, cascaded around her like a flowing waterfall of sapphire strands. It was a hue unlike any he had seen before.

Her attire was equally unusual—a gown of fine fabric that seemed to shift and shimmer with every movement, as if woven from threads spun by the stars themselves. Its design was intricate, with patterns that hinted at craftsmanship far beyond the skills known to the realms of Westeros.

Ulric Rivers frowned, his thoughts racing with speculation. "This is no wildling," he muttered under his breath, his voice a gruff murmur that carried a note of wonder. "Nor any woman of our lands."

Beside Ulric, Harald Snow exchanged a meaningful glance with Ser Jaremy Woodbear and Alexio Stone. They had seen many things in their years on the Wall, but none quite like this.

"Should we remove her gown?" Harald asked quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. That statement earn a hum of agreement from the men around them.

However, Ulric shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the woman. "No, leave her be for now, we'll keep her under watch until we have answers. Lord Stark will need to hear of this. Prepare quarters for her," he instructed, his tone firm despite the uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of his command. "And summon the Maester. We'll need his counsel."

With practiced efficiency, ser Jaremy Woodbear carried the woman to a chamber within Castle Black, where torchlight flickered against the ancient stone walls and cast long shadows across the floor. And above them, the stars continued their eternal dance, oblivious to the upheaval their celestial sibling had wrought upon the realm of men.

Part 2?????

A/N: The story is inspired by Stardust by Neil Gaiman.

I’m still unsure who is the main LI will be but Cregan is top 3.

And while it's an Xreader I will be describing the hair colour and eyes. But just that.

#the house of the dragon #the house of the dragon fanfic #winterfell #hotd imagines #Stardust #cregan x reader #house of the dragon x you #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #jace targaryen x reader #team black #westeros

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sunflowerabyss · 9 months

Note

Hi!! Omg i just discovered your stories and i LOVE them!! There's not enough fics about older remus, i love that you write for him🙌🏼 so i have a request: Could you write something with Older remus and younger reader who is Severus's little sister? (Like maybe Tonks age). Where they met at the Order but him and Sirius don't trust her at first because she dresses in all black (very typical witchy aesthetic, just like Severus) and has a serious resting face so she doesn't look very friendly... but then he realizes she's actually shy and sweet and bubbly.

Idk, that's the general idea i have, you'll have to see how to make them end up together🤭 Btw, if you don't like the idea don't worry! Just ignore it😁

Dances in the Dark

Pairings: Older!Remus Lupin x Fem!Younger!Reader

A/N: Awww, first off, thank you for your kind words! I love older Remus and feel like he doesn't get the recognition he deserves. I hope I lived up to your expectations, it was a fun write!

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 25), Fluff

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As Severus Snape's younger sister, you were a study in contrasts. At twenty-five, your age belied the depth of experience etched onto your features. Growing up in the shadow of your elder brother's reputation had forged you into a resilient and independent witch. The Snape bloodline ran thick with a unique blend of brilliance and tenacity, traits that manifested in both Severus and yourself.

Your magical abilities exceeded those of many your age, a fact that had earned you a place within the Order of the Phoenix. The decision to allow you to join the ranks was met with skepticism, especially from Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

It was this very similarity that triggered distrust among some Order members. Remus and Sirius, in particular, eyed you warily, wary of potential deception or hidden agendas.

The first time Remus Lupin laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but draw parallels between your demeanor and that of your older brother. Dressed in all black, your attire mirrored Severus's signature aesthetic, and your serious resting face painted you in the same guarded hues. You exuded an aura of stern determination, an exterior that echoed the standoffish nature associated with the Snape name.

Sirius Black, ever the provocateur, couldn't resist making a snarky comment. As they stood in the corridor outside the meeting room, Sirius leaned in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Did you notice, Remus? Little Miss Snape over there is like a mini Snivellus. Same brooding aesthetic, same unimpressed face. Bet she's got a cauldron of bat spleens hidden in that black dress of hers."

Remus shot Sirius a disapproving glance, his eyes narrowing. "Sirius, she's here to help. Let's not jump to conclusions quite yet."

Sirius chuckled, undeterred by Remus's disapproval. "Right you are, Moony. But a Snape is a Snape, and you know how much I trust them."

Remus sighed, realizing that getting Sirius to see past his biases would be a battle of its own. Truth is though, Remus isn't sure if he can trust you either. Sure, Severus helped him brew Wolfsbane, but that was under Dumbledore's order. Remus still wouldn't trust him as far as he can throw him.

As the meeting progressed, Remus couldn't help but keep a watchful eye on you. The air thickened with tension, and the wariness in the room mirrored the doubt that clung to you.

He observed from a distance, noting the way you isolated yourself, much like Severus. Yet, amidst the stoicism, there were subtle moments that caught his attention--a fleeting smile, a quiet chuckle at a fellow member's joke. These small glimpses contradicted the Snape facade, hinting at a more complex persona beneath the surface.

After the meeting concluded, Remus decided to approach, determined to unravel the mystery behind your Severus-esque facade.

"Severus's sister, right?" Remus inquired, his voice a blend of curiosity and caution. You met his gaze, and the intensity in your eyes surprised him. It was a gaze that held secrets, a silent challenge.

"Yes. Y/N," you replied, your tone measured.

"It's good to have you here with the Order."

"It's good to be with the Order."

Remus nodded, though uncertainty lingered. Over the following weeks, he observed you from a distance, noticing your tendency to retreat into the shadows, engrossed in books and spellwork.

Remus eventually found himself enchanted by the subtle charms of you. As you immersed yourself in the world of books, Remus couldn't help but notice the endearing quirks that made you all the more captivating. The gentle kick of your feet, an unconscious expression of joy, as you delved into the pages of a captivating novel added a playful touch to your serious demeanor. During spellwork, your movements were a graceful dance of magic, revealing a finesse and dedication that spoke volumes about your skill. In moments of solitude, Remus caught the soft chuckle you tried to stifle at the humor within the pages of a book or the unexpected outcome of a spell. The quiet library echoed with the delighted squeal that escaped your lips when you ventured into the realm of romance novels, a momentary lapse into unabashed joy. Your serious exterior slowly cracked, revealing a shy and sweet nature that few took the time to uncover.

Every night at Grimmauld Place was draped in an uneasy stillness, and the weight of the impending war pressed heavily on your shoulders. Unable to find sleep, you found refuge in the dimly lit library, the soft glow of candles flickering in tandem with the music streaming quietly through an old record player. Your fingers traced the edges of an old book as lyrics danced in your ears, a desperate attempt to find tranquility in the chaos.

Remus, too, roamed the halls restlessly, unable to succumb to the embrace of sleep. The subtle melody of muggle music drew him toward the library, and as he entered, he discovered you immersed in the world of both literature and music. The sight was enchanting--you, surrounded by the soft glow, lost in the rhythm of the night.

A gentle clearing of his throat alerted you to Remus's presence. Startled, you turned around, a sheepish smile playing on your lips. "Sorry if I woke you up," you apologized, the sincerity in your voice echoing in the quiet room.

Remus shook his head, a small smile forming. "No need to apologize. I was already awake. Mind if I join you?"

A nod of agreement passed between you, and Remus took a seat across from you. The awkward tension that had lingered in the air seemed to dissipate as he asked, "What keeps you up at this hour?"

You sighed, your eyes reflecting the weariness that clung to your soul. "Just trying to find some peace amidst the chaos, I guess."

Remus understood, a shared sentiment etched on his features. "I feel the same. The world outside these walls is anything but quiet."

The conversation flowed naturally as you both discussed the music, finding common ground in the tunes that resonated with you. The library transformed into a haven where the war seemed distant, if only for a moment. As one song faded into another, a daring thought crossed your mind.

"Would you like to dance?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

Remus blinked in surprise, his expression softening. "Dance? Here?"

A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you stood, offering your hand. "Why not? Sometimes, we need a little escape, don't we?"

Remus hesitated for a moment before accepting your hand, rising to his feet. The room became a canvas for an impromptu dance, the soft music wrapping around you like a protective cloak. In the quiet elegance of the moment, you spoke words that had lingered unspoken.

"I know my presence brings uncertainty, given Severus's reputation," you confessed, eyes searching Remus's for understanding.

He nodded, his movements mirroring yours in the dance. "It did, at first."

The admission hung in the air, but instead of casting a shadow, it became a bridge between you. Remus continued, "But I've come to see the person behind the name, the one who finds comfort in the quiet of the night, just like me."

In the midst of the war's cacophony, you and Remus found a moment of respite, a connection forged in the gentle sway of a library dance. As the mellow notes of the music enveloped the dimly lit library, you found yourself in a moment of quiet intimacy with Remus. The dance had woven a delicate connection between you, as Remus' arms encircled you, holding you close.

Feeling a surge of courage, you rested your head against Remus's chest, finding solace in the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat. It thudded beneath your ear, a rapid tempo that betrayed a subtle undercurrent of nerves. The music continued, its gentle melody seemingly synchronized with the quickened beats of Remus's heart. Remus tightened his embrace.

The library, with its flickering candles and ancient tomes, became a sanctuary where the chaos of war retreated, leaving only two hearts finding each other.

Unbeknownst to you both, Sirius stood in the shadows, a silent observer of the scene unfolding before him. His eyes, typically sharp and filled with mischief, softened as he witnessed the unspoken bond between Remus and Severus Snape's sister. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a rare moment of warmth and understanding. As he quietly retreated back to his room, he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Severus is gonna be so mad.

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #older!remus lupin #older!remus lupin x reader #older!remus lupin x you #older!remus lupin x y/n #sirius black #severus snape

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thechrysalisbrewproject · 4 months

Text

BREW Brilliance: A Conversation with Aleksandra Tryniecka

For Aleksandra Tryniecka, an assistant professor at Maria Curie-Skłodowska University and an accomplished author of both children's and academic books, her creation, Bunky, embodies a profound vision of authenticity and empathy.

I hoped to introduce a character who would often have insecurities, who would even complain at times or become grumpy but, at the same time, a character who would have a beautiful heart and always strive towards nobility, goodness, and kindness.– Aleksandra Tryniecka Characters often serve as mirrors reflecting the complexities of human nature. For Aleksandra Tryniecka, an assistant professor at…

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#award winner #award winning author #book author #books and life #brew brilliance #featured #insights

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forestdeath1 · 7 months

Text

Sour

@prongsfoot-microfic

James is sitting on the sofa opposite Remus, completely engrossed in a book. Sirius is propped against his shoulder, idly twirling a lock of his hair and fidgeting with his right foot. Remus is doing his best not to glance at Sirius. It's challenging because Sirius always seems to be the centre of attention in this bloody castle. And that's normal. Perfectly normal.

"Enough with the reading, is there anything you don't already know?" Sirius's tired voice reaches Remus, directed at James.

"I'm trying to find a way to...," James abruptly stops, catching sight of Marlene sitting next to Remus. He clears his throat and continues, "Figure out how to ace the Transfiguration test better than anyone."

"Oh, spare us," Marlene mutters, not bothering to remove the quill from her mouth or look up. "Everyone knows if you lot are hitting the books, it's only to concoct some scheme," she then turns to Remus. "Remus, have you finished? Could you take a look at mine?"

Remus takes her parchment with the Transfiguration essay on it and hands her his. They've got into the habit of helping each other with their essays this year, since Sirius and James have been too wrapped up in their own brilliance and often disregarded his requests.

"What's got you so engrossed?" Sirius leans over to James, flipping the book cover. "Ah. Well, carry on then," he says with a slight smile and lets go of the book, then gives James an approving pat on the chest and suddenly halts, scrutinizing James as if he's a dog that's caught a scent.

Remus looks away, trying to focus on Marlene's essay.

"Where were you today?" Sirius inquires.

Even Marlene looks up at that question.

"What?" James appears puzzled as he looks at Sirius.

"You smell like something sour, lemony. As if you've been swimming in lemons."

"Lemons? What lemons?" James is clearly bewildered.

Ever since he became an animagus, Sirius has had an acute sense of smell. Suddenly, he can detect the scent of perfume of someone who was in the room ten minutes ago, or identify what Peter has brought back to the dorm from the kitchen before even opening it.

"Sour ones, obviously," Sirius leans in closer to James's cheek, sniffing. Then he quickly licks it from bottom to top and immediately claims, "Lemons. Your cheek tastes of lemons. Have you been out with Katie, you muppet?"

Remus blinks in surprise. James laughs, throwing his head back.

"Why Katie?" he asks amidst his laughter, with Sirius still intently looking at him for an answer.

"She's got that lemon-flavoured lip balm."

"What a nightmare."

"Indeed," Sirius concurs.

"Probably just the potion fumes. Lime juice was in today's brew," James shrugs.

"Okay," Sirius immediately loses interest and turns away. James puts the book aside and grabs Sirius by the neck, pulling him close while he tries to squirm free.

"Not a fan of lemons then?" James teases, pulling Sirius's head towards him and leaning in, attempting to press his cheek against Sirius's lips and nose.

"Get off, James, have a wash first," Sirius breaks free, trying to push James's face away with his left hand while attempting to escape his grip with his right. "You smell like Dumbledore."

"That didn't stop you from licking me," James chuckles, keeping a firm hold on Sirius.

"It was a scientific experiment, you idiot! You're going to strangle me!"

Marlene looks at Remus, raising an eyebrow, and whispers:

"What's with them?"

Remus just shrugs and says, "It's normal."

Lately, this has become the new normal, and it looks like the whole school will have to get used to James and Sirius showing affection in new ways, including Sirius casually licking James's cheek as part of a "scientific experiment".

#prongsfoot microfic #prongsfoot #james and sirius #sirius black #james potter

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barelytolerabled · 1 year

Text

I Regret Nothing

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: you and Spencer are taken hostage and you decide to finally confess to him

Warnings: hostage situation

WC: 1.579

Taglist: @envraijesaispas @rosecentury @taygrls @thisismeraki @thenerdthatwrites @bigbunnygucci

The faint sound of footsteps echoed through the dimly lit room, mingling with the heavy silence that filled the air. Spencer Reid and you found yourselves trapped, held hostage by an unknown subject—a ruthless unsub who seemed to relish in their torment. Fear tightened its grip around your hearts, yet amidst the chaos, there was a strange connection forming between you.

You glanced at Spencer, your eyes filled with both concern and uncertainty. You had long admired him from afar, but your connection had never evolved beyond a strong friendship. Now, faced with the possibility of your lives hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but wonder if Spencer felt the same way.

Amidst the chaos of the situation, a bittersweet memory flashed through your mind—a memory of the times when you would sit quietly in the BAU, stealing glances at Spencer as he immersed himself in his work. You admired his brilliance, his passion for unraveling mysteries, and his kind-hearted nature.

One particular day, as you found yourself lost in the depths of admiration, you failed to notice that Derek Morgan had taken notice of your infatuation. He was perceptive and observant, and it didn't take long for him to catch onto the unspoken feelings brewing within you.

One afternoon, when the team had a moment of respite, Derek pulled you aside, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Hey, beautiful. Can I have a word?"

Curiosity and a tinge of apprehension filled your heart as you followed him to a more secluded corner of the BAU. There, with a gentle yet mischievous glint in his eyes, Derek leaned against a nearby desk.

"You know, I've noticed something," he began, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "I've seen the way you look at Reid when he's not looking. It's written all over your face."

Heat rose to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and surprise flooding your senses. You had thought your secret admiration was well-hidden, but Derek's keen perception proved otherwise.

Rather than making you uncomfortable, Derek's words eased your unease, creating a space where you could finally acknowledge your feelings. "I... I didn't realize it was that obvious," you stammered, feeling vulnerable yet strangely relieved to have someone to confide in.

Derek chuckled softly, his eyes warm with understanding. "It's okay. We all see it. And I can understand why you're drawn to him. Reid is one of a kind—a brilliant mind, compassionate soul, and a genuinely good person. But here's the thing: admiration from afar won't get you anywhere. If you truly feel something for him, you need to let him know."

His words hit you with a mix of apprehension and determination. Taking a deep breath, you met Derek's gaze, grateful for his advice.

"You're right, Derek. I can't keep hiding my feelings forever. I need to take a chance, even if it's terrifying."

Derek nodded, his smile widening. "That's the spirit. Life is too short to wonder 'what if.' Go for it. You never know what might happen."

As the memories faded, replaced by the reality of the present, you couldn’t do anything but regret. You regretted not confessing your feelings for Spencer sooner.

Hours had passed since your capture, and the unsub had become increasingly volatile. It was evident that his actions stemmed from a place of deep pain and rejection. In a moment of vulnerability, you decided to reach out and connect with him, hoping to diffuse the tension.

"Hey," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I can see that you're hurting, and I'm sorry. I've been hurt too. But that doesn't mean we can't find beauty in love, even if it's not returned in the same way."

The unsub's eyes narrowed, his gaze filled with skepticism. "Love? What do you know about love? Nobody's ever loved me."

You locked eyes with him, your voice laced with empathy. "I know what it feels like to love someone so deeply and get hurt in the process. Sometimes, it feels like a mistake. But other times, it's the only way we truly understand what love is."

Spencer watched the interaction, his heart pounding with worry for your safety. He admired your strength and your ability to find compassion even in the darkest of circumstances. Deep down, he knew that he harbored feelings for you, but fear held him back from expressing them.

The unsub's guarded expression softened slightly, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. "You really think there's beauty in that? In loving someone who doesn't love you back?"

You nodded, your voice filled with conviction. "Yes, because it means you're capable of giving your heart fully. And even if it's not reciprocated, it doesn't diminish the beauty of your love."

As you spoke, your eyes never left the unsub's, searching for any trace of understanding. You could see the pain etched across his features, a reflection of your own doubts and insecurities.

The room fell into silence once again, the weight of your words hanging in the air. The unsub's grip on the gun in his hand loosened slightly, his thoughts seemingly lost in the depths of his emotions.

Spencer, sensing an opportunity, carefully chose his words. "She's right, you know. Love can be a complicated and painful thing. But it can also bring immense joy and fulfillment. Don't let the fear of rejection cloud your perception of love."

The unsub's eyes flickered between you and Spencer, a mixture of longing and anguish swirling within you. "How do you know? How can you be so sure?"

Spencer's voice softened as he answered, "Because I've been there too. I've loved and been hurt. But I've also experienced the beauty of love, even in its most fleeting moments. And I believe it's worth it."

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by a fragile understanding between the three of you connected by circumstance. Time stood still as you each grappled with your own emotions, contemplating the complexities of love and the risks that came with it.

In that moment, you took a deep breath, mustering the courage to express your own vulnerability. "I regret nothing. Loving someone, even if they don't love you back the same way, is a testament to the depth of your emotions. And I would rather have loved and felt the pain than never have loved at all."

As the words escaped your lips, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Spencer, your heart yearning for him to understand your hidden message.

The sound of the approaching footsteps grew louder, but before the unsub could react, the team burst into the room, guns drawn and ready. Chaos erupted as the unsub was swiftly apprehended, and the room flooded with relief. The nightmare was finally over.

As the team worked to secure the scene and ensure everyone's safety, you and Spencer found yourselves alone, the weight of your unspoken confessions lingering in the air. It was now or never.

Spencer's eyes searched yours, a mix of concern, relief, and something more, something that mirrored your own emotions.

He took a step closer, his voice gentle yet filled with intensity. "I heard what you said back there, about love and regrets. And I want you to know that I've felt the same way."

Your heart skipped a beat, hope and anticipation flooding your veins. You couldn't help but lean in closer, urging him to continue.

"I've been afraid," he confessed, his voice quivering with vulnerability. "Afraid of losing the people I care about, of being hurt, of taking that leap of faith. But being here, in this moment, has made me realize that life is too short to let fear hold me back."

A surge of warmth washed over you, tears of relief welling in your eyes. This was the moment you had longed for, the moment when the walls between you and Spencer crumbled, allowing your connection to deepen.

Spencer took a steadying breath, his gaze never wavering from yours. "I care about you, deeply. More than I can put into words. And I don't want to live with any more regrets. So, if you're willing, I want to take that leap of faith with you. I want to explore what could be between us, if you'll have me."

A smile bloomed on your lips, your heart soaring with joy. You reached out, gently cupping his face, your touch filled with tenderness. "Spencer, I've been waiting for this moment for so long. Of course, I'll have you. I want to take that leap of faith with you too."

In that small, intimate space, surrounded by the faint hum of the jet's engines, you closed the distance between you, sealing your newfound connection with a tender and passionate kiss. It was a moment of surrender, of letting go of past pain and embracing the possibility of a future filled with love and happiness.

As the jet soared through the night sky, carrying you both back to Quantico, you held hands, your fingers intertwined, symbolizing the unbreakable bond you now shared. The journey ahead would have its challenges, but together, with the support of your team and the strength of your love, you were ready to face anything that came your way.

And so, as the jet carried you home, a new chapter unfolded—an epic love story between you and Spencer Reid, filled with adventure, understanding, and a love that transcended the boundaries of fear and uncertainty.

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