#my family can be phantoms 🥰

[flufallo]

I know it's not the real thing but I want to go

[hanafubukki]

Summary: General Vanrouge watches a couple dance.

Laughter reached his ears from where he sat.

Joyous and carefree.

From his position, he can see the shadows twirling around each other in what seemed to be a kitchen.

He watched as someone, who had a similar appearance to his own, lifted another up before swinging them into his arms.

Normally, he wouldn’t believe such a being would be related to him in any way.

But magic did not lie, and the one from this fae matched his own.

A shiver ran down his spine.

Sharp magenta met crimson red.

A warning.

Do not ruin this moment.

He wasn’t planning to.

This view before him, spoke of peace and tranquility.

He…didn’t want his hands full of scars and blood to mar such a scene.

He looked away as the two before him kissed.

A nap right now seems like the perfect opportunity.

…but a part of him yearned.

“I was wondering when you would pop up.”

Crimson eyes met his own.

Stubborn. Young. Rebellious.

Someone who didn’t know what life held for him.

Lilia kind of pitied his younger self, but knew saying such might lead to an altercation.

Which generally he wouldn’t mind at all, it would be amusing to compare his strengths now to back then.

But he didn’t want the risk of waking you and the others up. He already had to talk down Malleus from accompanying him.

“You’re with a…human.”

Lilia held back a laugh, “That’s for you to find out.”

The General before him bristled before sighing. It seems he knew it was a losing battle to try and get any information out of him.

“Listen up you!”

The sharp glare sent his way had him smirking.

“Never let this moment go. What you see now? This is the future you can look forward to. Come what may, hold on and do not let go.”

“How do I know this isn’t a trick?”

“Come General~ You and I both know magic never lies.”

The General looked away. How amusing. He was pouting. Lilia itched to tease him more.

“Are…you happy?”

Ah. The question he always held in and never spoke nor showed back during his days as the Phantom General.

“Yes. More than you can imagine.”

Lilia can see the yearning his younger self held deep within as he looked towards where his family stayed.

You’ll know happiness. You’ll experience it yourself. It will take years of pain and suffering, but it will be worth it.

“You have much to look forward to.”

General Vanrouge straightened his stance, a new shine in his eyes.

Good. It will serve him well in his journey.

“I didn’t know I would become so sappy.”

“Kufufu~ That’s what love does to a fae. It changes you.”

The face the General made had him almost bending over in laughter.

Ah yes, he remembers this phase of his. The General has so much to learn…to acknowledge. Some of which even he didn’t learn until many years ago.

During a certain event at Night Raven College, but he wasn’t going to tell him that.

Seeing his past self, Lilia ached to go back to his family. Back to their warmth.

For now, though, he waited with a version of himself he hadn’t seen in a long while. One, that he would once upon a time run away from.

But now?

He had long ago acknowledged this side of himself, for it was this version of himself that led him to his current happiness. That led him to his loves.

And he couldn’t be more grateful.

The past and future stood side by side, basking in this tranquility, enjoying what will come and what currently is.

Bonus:

“Why do you look like that.”

“Hey! I look cute!”

I felt so soft and in love when writing this 🥹🥹🥰

(I feel like I wrote a part of my soul into this 🥰💞)

[sanguineterrain]

hii i love your work and wanted to send a request in :)

can you do “you’re just going to leave me here?!” and “i’m gonna come back for you , do you hear me?” for jason and reader? 💛

maybe they’re on a date and there’s a robbery nearby or a villain crashes a gala they are attending? also maybe the reader knows he’s red hood? or it’s early in their relationship that he hasn’t told them yet? idk if that makes sense, but if you pick this up i can’t wait to see where you take it! 💛

OH IT'S EMOTIONAL ANGST TIME! hurt no comfort 😈 thanks for requesting nonnie 🥰

jason todd x gn!reader | tw: angst, reader feels hurt, lying to protect a superhero identity (is red hood a hero? he is to ME.) i may write a pt 2 to this if there's interest 😎

****

Jason checks his phone for the fourth time tonight. You haven't even received your entrees yet.

"Everything okay?" you ask lightly.

Jason looks up, eyes wide. "Oh. Yes. Sorry, baby. Sorry."

You nod, trying to smile. "It's okay."

He puts his phone in his pocket. You try to relax and focus on your date. This place is upscale, much pricier than you're used to, but Jason had insisted. He'd said he hadn't been doing his due diligence of being your boyfriend and should take you out on more "proper" dates. You'd told him that was silly, of course; you'd be content to go anywhere with him.

But he's been acutely distracted these past few weeks, and you're starting to form terrible explanations in your head for why that might be.

You try to ignore it. You just want to spend time with your boyfriend; it's been so long.

"Oh my God, guess what happened at work today," you say.

Jason leans in, smiling. "Tell me. Was it Peggy from Marketing again?"

"Yes!" You laugh, shaking your head. "She's such a pain. I was in my cubicle when—"

Jason's watch starts to blare, the beep shrill and insistent. He curses and quickly taps at the screen. You slump back in your chair.

"Shit," he says and looks up at you.

You suddenly feel exhausted.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," Jason begins, rising from his chair. "God, fuck—you have no idea how sorry I am. It's my family, they—something's happened with my brother. He needs my help, unfortunately."

"So you're just going to leave me here?" you ask, mouth dropping open in shock. "Jay, we planned tonight two weeks ago!"

He winces. "I know. Fuck, I know, sweetheart. I'm so, so sorry. I'm gonna come back for you, okay? It'll be an hour, tops. Look, order anything you want. I'll leave my card, it's on me—"

You shake your head and stand. "No, Jason. I'm—look, I know your family is important to you, but you've done this a lot this past month, and it's not just hurtful, but it's starting to feel a little intentional. I don't know if I'm some kind of placeholder or, or—"

"Hey, no, no. You're not a placeholder. Please don't say that," Jason begs, reaching for your hand.

You keep your hand out of reach, eyes beginning to heat up.

"I'm going home," you say. "I hope your brother's okay."

"Sweetheart, please, come on. I don't wanna fight."

"Me neither," you say tiredly. "So we won't. Good night, Jason."

His watch beeps again, this time with a phone call. You walk out. It's a nicer part of Gotham, so getting a cab here isn't a problem.

Jason catches up to you instantly. He looks terrified, and it breaks your heart, but you don't have the energy tonight.

"Can I–can I call you tonight?" he asks, voice cracking.

A cab pulls up to the curb. The valet opens the door for you. Jason takes a step forward.

"I'd rather you didn't," you say quietly. "I need some time to myself, Jay."

Jason takes a step back.

"I'm sorry," he says again, desperate.

You sigh. "I know you are."

You get into the car. The valet closes the door. Jason watches you through the window, tugging at his curls like he does when he's stressed.

That night, your bed feels cold. You toss and turn for hours, trying to shake the feeling of a phantom arm snaked around your waist.

Jason doesn't call, like you'd requested. You cry anyway.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Napoleonville [Chapter 5: The Haunted House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, drinking, drugs, infidelity, kids, parenthood, Adventures With Aegon, Targ family dysfunction, bodily injury, no Willis this time yay!!! 🥳

Word Count: 7.3k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @aemonddtargaryen @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @libroparaiso @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbell @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 🥰🧁

Every house is haunted, not just by phantoms of the past but by the ghosts of what could have been. They live in shadows, in doorways, in the periphery of your vision; you walk through them like smoke or mist. Their blood—pooled and pulseless—is a cold spot in a sweltering room, their fingerprints are the woodgrain swirls of floorboards. If you listen closely, you can hear them at night in the chorus of the cicadas and the owls and the wet westbound wind. They whisper questions you’ve never been able to answer: Have I made the right choices? Have I done the best I could? Is love a myth or does it only exist for other people? Am I a prisoner of the past or the future or myself? Why have I never been chosen?

In the bathtub, you stare at the pale blue walls veined with cracks like the legs of a spider. On the tree swing in the front yard—here long before you moved in, inherited from the effort and care of another family’s hands—you skim your bare feet over emerald blades of grass and watch the lightning bugs appear at dusk. In Cadi’s room, you play the Nintendo when she asks and try to forget who gave it to her; and when she asks about Aemond, you say he’s busy with work, because how else can you explain his absence to a child? In the kitchen, you break eggs into glass bowls of vanilla, sugar, flour, butter, baking powder, but you keep getting pieces of shell in the mix, something that almost never happens anymore. You snap, grab an egg, pitch it against the refrigerator where it explodes into calcium carbonate shrapnel and sterile yellow gore.

Amir looks up, startled. Behind his rectangular tortoiseshell glasses, his eyes dart between you and the viscera that stains the refrigerator door. At last he says softly, seriously: “What is it you liked so much about him?” Implicit in this statement are others: You’ve never liked a man this much. You’ll never see Aemond again.

You study your palms, tools of creation, tools that destroy. “I spend every second of my life consumed by responsibilities. The house, the car, the bakery, the bills, Cadi, Willis, myself, even you. There’s no one to tell me what the right thing to do is. There’s no one who can carry the weight for me. I can’t show it when I’m tired or frustrated or scared. And so to have someone who—even for an hour, even for fifteen minutes—could take care of me, and make all the decisions, and convince me to trust him…it’s the closest I ever get to being at peace.”

Amir gives you a sad, vanishingly small smile. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.” And you wet a dishcloth so you can begin to clean up your mess.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Thursday, and you’re coming home after delivering cakes for a birthday party down in Thibodaux. Your car radio is blaring Message In A Bottle by The Police. When you roll into the gravel driveway, the red Audi Quattro is waiting for you: parked right beside the house, like he belongs here, like he owns it. You throw open the door of your Chevy Celebrity and rage up the sloping, groaning steps of the front porch.

The first thing that hits you is the cold. There is an ambient humming, a chill that raises goosebumps on your bare arms. When you rush to the kitchen, you find an air conditioning unit in one of the windows, a metal box that turns the Fall-Down House into a tundra. They’re sitting at the hastily-cleared counter: Aemond leafing through the ledger book containing the financial records for the bakery, Amir beside him sipping a glass of sweet tea. Aemond glances up at you and then back down at the pale green pages, the lines of his face intense, focused. Amir greets you with a nervous titter, hiding behind his sweet tea. Ice jangles in the glass.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Our new air conditioner!” Amir says, overjoyed. “The customers are going to love it. No more waiting around in a stifling kitchen. You know how miserable it gets in here during the summer. We won’t be able to get rid of them! They’ll be purchasing cupcakes by the dozen just to have an excuse to get out of the heat!”

Aemond is still scrutinizing the ledger. “Why aren’t you buying in bulk?” he asks Amir. “The shelf life on things like sugar and flour has got to be six months at least.”

“We don’t have the liquid capital. We can’t spend cash if we don’t have cash.”

“And all these business expenses—mixers, coolers, pans, blenders, knives, the gas you burn when you make deliveries, the water you use to wash dishes—those are all tax write-offs, right?”

Amir hesitates. Aemond is aghast, his eyebrows shooting up into the blonde hair that shags over his forehead. The strands are damp with sweat and curling at the edges; he’s been working hard. He’s the one who heaved the air conditioner up onto the window ledge. His Marlboro jacket is draped over the back of his barstool. He’s wearing jeans, a black MTV t-shirt, and his Adidas sneakers.

“Please tell me you haven’t been paying income tax on money you aren’t actually keeping.”

“I didn’t know what we were allowed to write off, I was petrified to make a mistake! I don’t want to end up in Rikers!”

“They don’t put people in Rikers for tax evasion. You’d only go to minimum security.”

Amir rolls his eyes. “Well now you’ve convinced me.”

You are betrayed, furious. “You’re showing him the book?”

“He’s very bossy,” Amir says, slurping his sweet tea. “As you know.”

Aemond asks you, making notes on a legal pad he’s commandeered: “Do you have an IRA?”

“A what?”

“An IRA,” Aemond repeats slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “An individual retirement account.”

Should I? Could I? What the hell is that? “Um. I don’t think so.”

Aemond sighs, exasperated. He jots down another bullet point on his legal pad. “You need one.”

“I need you to get out of my house.”

“Shh!” Amir pleads. “He bought us an air conditioner!”

“Do you know how much that’s going to cost us in electricity? The bill is going to go through the roof. We’re not going to be able to afford this. And he doesn’t care, because he hasn’t even thought of it. Drop an oil rig into a lake and solve the unemployment crisis. Throw an air conditioner in a window and buy someone’s loyalty. He doesn’t understand us. He doesn’t care about us. He’s not capable of it.”

“I’ll pay for the electricity,” Aemond says. Now he’s looking at you.

“Get out,” you demand.

He seems—perplexingly—to be genuinely wounded. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Get out!”

Aemond stands, walks to you, backs you up until your shoulder blades hit the refrigerator. The metal door is cluttered with Cadi’s drawings, secured there with multicolored alphabet magnets: dinosaurs eating people, Rambo, astronauts rocketing to the moon, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Aemond is so close you can smell the cigarette smoke and cologne and sweat on him, see the smudges of ink on his fingers. His right eye travels all over you, defiant and hungry. His left eye—and you only notice when there’s no space left between you—is an impassive, glassy, not-quite-identical blue that never moves. It’s an imposter, and a very good one; but it’s not him. You think, unable to say it: What happened to your face? Who hurt you? Instead you strike out to shove Aemond away with both hands.

“Get out of my house—!”

“You want to get rough with me? Will that make you feel better?” he murmurs darkly, ignoring your palms when they collide with his chest, his collarbones, his jaw. Your flesh can’t hurt him, it can only graze his skin like stray bullets. “You want to hit me? Go ahead. I’ve had worse. I promise you I have.”

“I hate you!”

But you haven’t said the right word, and you both know it. He grabs your wrists, holds them still, whispers low and menacing into your ear as you struggle to rip your hands out of his grasp. “I dreamed about you all night. Tying you down, stretching you open. I want that. I think you do too.”

“I don’t want it,” you hiss; but already you’re imagining him on top of you, inside you, in control of you, and to resist that is like trying to fight the instinct to seek water, sleep, sunlight.

“Then tell me to stop.”

You glare up at Aemond, raging, burning. His gaze locks with yours and stays there. You are suddenly aware of the heat of his fingers linked around your wrists, of the pressure of his hips against yours as he pins you to the refrigerator. You can’t say it. I don’t want him to stop touching me. I don’t want him to leave and never come back.

Again, Aemond dares you: “Tell me to stop.”

From the kitchen counter, Amir is gawking at you both, his eyes huge, stunned, painfully uncomfortable. Nonetheless, he doesn’t look away. “I’m not leaving,” he informs Aemond. Just in case you’re weak enough to agree to something you’ll regret later; just in case you need a friend.

The spell breaks, the curse lifts. Aemond releases you and takes several steps back. He breathes deeply, running his fingers through his damp hair, composing himself. “You’re a good person,” he says to Amir.

“Thanks. I’m afraid I can’t return the compliment.”

Aemond turns back to you. Now he’s penitent, measured. Already, a part of you misses the weight of his bones on yours. But that’s not why Aemond is here. “Let me talk. Let me explain.”

No, you almost say. I’m not interested. I don’t want you anymore. There’s nothing you can tell me that will make me feel at peace with you again.

Instead, after long moments colored by waning sunlight and the whirring of the new air conditioner in the window: “Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re on the tree swing, gripping the ropes and swaying slightly back and forth as you push off with your bare feet, rocking from your heels to your toes and then back again. Aemond lights a cigarette and takes a drag as he sits cross-legged on the grass in front of you. Amir keeps peeking out from between the blinds of the living room windows. Aemond glances around the yard, and you realize he’s searching for the alligator. His Marlboro jacket is folded neatly on the ground next to him.

“The gator’s not here right now, Aemond. She’s probably over in the trees. She’s not going to hurt you.”

He nods, but he doesn’t seem convinced. He fidgets restlessly with his cigarette.

All that money, all that power, all that ecological ruin, and he’s petrified of a five-foot gator that’s probably never eaten anything bigger than a pelican. It’s ridiculous. You smile weakly. “I think you have a phobia.”

He gestures to his scar, to his ruined left eye. “I’m afraid one will sneak up on me and I won’t be able to see it.”

He’s never spoken like this to you before, acknowledging his limitations, his impairment. He’s trying to be honest. He really is. “Where’s Christabel?”

“Back in the U.K.”

“When are you getting married?”

He shrugs, uninterested. “A few months from now, I guess. July. August. It doesn’t matter. I’m not really involved in the planning.”

“You’re a cheater,” you say. It comes out less accusatory than mournful. Why did you have to disappoint me? Why did you have to ruin this?

Aemond is dismissive. He puffs on his cigarette. “Everyone cheats.”

“No they don’t.”

“Everyone from my world cheats,” Aemond amends. “You marry for money or status or land or whatever, to prove you can snag someone who should be above you, to make your parents proud of you, to make sure your children have the right last name and titles. Then when the novelty fades—and it does, it always does—you find passion elsewhere.”

“That’s barbaric.”

“That’s aristocratic. Poor people get divorced two or three times. They have public brawls and call the cops on each other. We just have a different solution to life’s inevitabilities. My mother cheats with Criston, Daemon and Rhaenyra cheated with each other, I cheat with you, Aegon cheats with…I couldn’t even list them. A lot of people.”

Aegon. So that’s the debaucherous brother’s name. “Not all fancy rich people cheat. Prince Charles doesn’t cheat.”

Aemond bursts out laughing. “Of course he does! He’s been fucking Camilla Parker Bowles since like 1970!”

Your stomach sinks. Poor Diana. “I thought they were just friends now.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s what the tabloids say.” He inhales smoke—cancerous, lethal—and then exhales it in a grey gale like fog. “I think they stopped for a few years after he got married. But presently they spend as much time as they possibly can rendezvousing at all their friends’ country estates. Charles and Diana are miserable, but they’ll never split up. She’s entertaining herself with a cavalry officer named James Hewitt. Who looks suspiciously like Prince Harry, by the way.”

“And who does your father fuck on the side? Nancy Reagan?”

“He prefers the memory of a dead woman to my living mother. I’d say that counts as infidelity.”

The photograph Aegon showed me on the Targaryens’ refrigerator. Rhaenyra’s mother. And what else had been on that refrigerator? Pictures of the rest of the family? Old sketches and report cards? Souvenirs? A calendar with upcoming birthdays circled or starred? No. There was nothing. You consider Aemond with a disorienting blend of pity and barbed, venomous frustration. “I’m sorry Viserys has never been a good father to you. But that’s not an excuse to ruin other people’s lives.”

“Look, what you did…” Aemond begins with sizable effort. He puts the end of his cigarette out on the sole of one of his Adidas sneakers. “To walk away from something you believe isn’t right when everyone else is telling you to stay…that’s not easy. And maybe for you it didn’t feel so insurmountable because you’ve had to learn how to survive painful things on your own before. But all I’ve ever done was break my own bones so my father would notice me. I don’t mean that as a metaphor. I’ve fractured my ribs, my hands, my skull. And it’s still not enough. Love isn’t given in my family. I have to earn it. It’s all I know.”

“You could learn something new.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I won’t. That’s not a language I speak.”

Exactly how bad of a father was Viserys Targaryen? “Aemond, what happened to your face?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

You study him. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be my Camilla,” Aemond says.

“No. No way.” But you’re amazed by how badly you want to say yes. One word and he’ll touch me again? One word and I can have him back the way we were before? It doesn’t seem possible to resist that. It’s not something that should be expected of any mortal.

“I want to be around you. I want you to keep making me feel the way you do, because it’s…it’s…it’s not something I get from anyone else. And I want to make your life better. I have the ability to do that.”

“Because you’re an oil tycoon.”

“Yes,” Aemond agrees. “I was born to be one, and so I am. But even if I wasn’t—if I refused, if I died—it’s not like the trillion-dollar industry would just disappear. There’s Jade Dragon, sure, but there’s also ExxonMobil, Shell, British Petroleum, Chevron, Valero, Marathon, a hundred others. Someone would be drilling on Lake Verret regardless. But the person in charge might be less scrupulous than I am. I’m doing the best I can here.”

“Were you in Ketchikan when the spill happened there?”

“No. I’ve never been to Alaska. That was someone else’s project. It was a fuckup, it was Jade Dragon’s fault. But my father is the one fighting it in court. I have no control over that.”

Someone else’s project…

“Come to my house tonight,” he says.

“No, Aemond.”

“Then come over on Saturday.” And you think: He remembered which days Cadi is usually with Willis.

“I don’t want to be your mistress.” I want to be more than that, oh God, I want so much more. You think of Christabel touching him and wrenching nausea cuts through you like a blade. You imagine Aemond’s hands taking off her clothes—zippers, buttons, ribbons, belts—and you feel like there’s almost nothing you wouldn’t do to stop it from happening.

“We’re from two very different words,” Aemond says calmly, sensibly. “And it’s going to be impossible for us to understand each other unless we make an effort to learn about where we’ve come from. You’ve invited me into your home, your business, your family, and I’m very grateful for that. Now I need to do the same. And I think if you see more of my life, you’ll realize why I make the decisions I do and what it would mean for us to be together. Because in my experience, husbands and wives aren’t soulmates like they are in books or movies. It’s someone else who you actually…” He breaks off, then continues once he’s decided on the phrasing. “Spend most of your time with.”

Part of you knows that this arrangement would be hopelessly inadequate; you would feel like you were settling for less than you want, you would feel unchosen. But the louder part of you is clinging to it like a life raft. I want him to touch me again. I want him to make me forget about everything else. “I’ll think about it. Visiting the house, I mean.”

“Please do,” Aemond says. “How was Cadi’s weekend fishing?”

He really does listen to you; he remembers things. Even things you mention once and then never again. “She loved it. Willis knows more about the bayou than I’ll ever know about baking. They caught three catfish, four breams, and a bass, and then they made them into fish sticks. Thank God she has one parent who can cook. Even if Willis thinks Hungry Jack mashed potatoes are a vegetable. You know what he puts in the pot instead of milk? Coffee creamer. Cups of it.”

Aemond doesn’t seem pleased to be reminded of Willis’ existence. He says, rather mechanically: “I’m really glad Cadi enjoyed herself.” He grabs his Marlboro jacket, rises to his feet, scans the yard for the alligator. She’s made an appearance at last: she’s sunbathing about ten yards away, nowhere near close enough to be a nuisance. Still, Aemond frowns. Then he clears his face and looks back to you one last time as he strides towards his Audi Quattro. “And Cupcake?”

You peer up at him, shielding your eyes from the late-afternoon sun. “Yeah?”

“When you come to the house…” He grins. Not if. When. “Bring your swimsuit.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You cut the engine and survey the grand entranceway of the house that the Targaryens call The Last Desire, words in Greek that you couldn’t pronounce. The blue merle Great Dane—Vhagar, you recall, yet another bizarre foreign name—is lurking between the towering white columns of the wraparound porch. “Fantastic,” you mutter, stepping out of the car. It’s Saturday, 2 p.m., hot and muggy and cicadas screeching in the southern live oaks. Green anoles dart across the cobblestones and freshly-painted white wood of the porch. Whooping cranes, haughty and fragile, ogle you with reptilian yellow eyes.

You pause when you reach the bottom step of the porch. The Great Dane growls at you, her lips curling up to show long fanglike teeth. You’re carrying two bakery boxes stacked on top of each other: one contains a dozen blueberry pie cupcakes, the second filled with fresh Cap’n Crunch Treats. You glance around for someone to assist you with the hostile dog situation. You have no interest in attempting to shove her away like Alicent did on the day of the engagement party.

Blessedly, the head butler materializes in the doorway and beckons you inside. When Vhagar snarls as you approach, the butler pulls a small plastic water gun from the pocket of his black dress pants. “I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” he tells you, and then squirts the dog several times. Vhagar reluctantly lopes away. “Please allow me to escort you to the pool. Mr. Targaryen instructed us to be on the lookout for you.” Then he breezes into the house without checking to make sure you’re following him.

You trot after the butler through the white-and-gold foyer, the deep red living room, and then out into the garden. There is a long row of neon green lounge chairs on the side of the pool opposite of the water slide. Three of the chairs are occupied. Helaena is stretched across one wearing a frilly one-piece, floral with ladybugs; her chameleon is perched on the top of the adjustable backrest. Alicent is in the chair beside her, dressed in a turquoise blue coverup that matches the pool water and reading The Silence of the Lambs. They both wave nonchalantly, seemingly unsurprised by your presence. And then there’s Aegon. He’s smoking a joint as a black boombox beside him plays The Cure’s Why Can’t I Be You? You place both bakery boxes on a table shielded from the sun by a large green umbrella.

“What’s in there?” Aegon asks. He’s wearing pink plastic sunglasses, a radiant fuchsia sunburn, and a Speedo patterned with pineapples. His ferret is curled up in his lap and napping.

“Blueberry pie cupcakes and Cap’n Crunch Treats.”

“Yes! Pass me one of each.”

“Don’t be rude, Aegon,” Alicent says dully, turning a page of her book. “She’s not a servant.”

“She’s a literal baker. I’m asking for baked goods.”

“Dear, I’ve been singing your praises to every single person I cross paths with in this jungle of a town,” Alicent tells you, ignoring him. “Have you noticed yet?”

You hand Aegon his treats; he marvels at the miniature blueberry pie placed atop the cupcake frosting before scarfing it down. “I think we’ve had more customers than usual this week, now that you mention it. Thank you so much! Amir and I are more grateful than we could ever express.”

“Oh, it’s the least I could do, love,” Alicent says. Criston appears with a strawberry daiquiri and gives it to her, complete with a swirl of whipped cream and a little pink toothpick umbrella pierced through a wedge of lime. Criston wears a pair of roomy Hawaiian board shorts and his single gold earring. Alicent takes a sip. “Heavenly! I am completely revived.”

“Helaena, would you like one?” Criston asks.

“Yes please.”

“And one for Aemond’s friend too, please,” Alicent says. Criston nods and hurries off again. Nobody asks if Aegon wants a strawberry daiquiri. He gnaws moodily at his cupcake and then when it’s gone moves on to the Cap’n Crunch Treat. Helaena’s chameleon snatches a dragonfly out of the air with its tongue. Alicent shudders.

Aemond’s friend? Friend?? You sit down on the lounge chair next to Aegon, still wearing your pale pink coverup. He tells you: “Aemond should be back soon. He got a phone call and had to swing by the rigs after lunch but he didn’t think it would take long.” Then Aegon smiles toothily, and you notice he has residual white powder around the corners of his lips and just inside his nostrils. “It’s good to meet you properly this time, now that I’m aware of all your talents.”

“You know about Aemond’s…uh…preferences?”

“Oh yeah, and I knew he had a girl. He always has to have a girl. I just didn’t know it was you. He doesn’t usually bring them around the family.”

You steal a glimpse of Alicent and Helaena. If they’re listening in, they’re doing an excellent job of not acting like they are.

“I think we should address this,” Aegon says.

You are stymied. “Address what?”

“It would never work, me and you.”

“I hadn’t even thought of it.”

“Sure you haven’t,” Aegon says. He flourishes a hand melodramatically. “You need a dom. I am, lamentably, an irredeemable sub. I’m a sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

“Okay, Aegon.”

“I just needed to break the tension.”

“I think you’re imagining that.”

There are footsteps, the slapping of flip flops against the cobblestones, and then someone who looks like a younger, more cheerful, more sober Aegon arrives at the pool. He is dressed in royal blue swim trunks that stop at his mid-thigh; his wavy blond hair is down to his shoulders. Like his family members, he also does not seem at all surprised to see you. “Hi,” he says, shaking your hand. “I’m Daeron. I didn’t get to introduce myself at the engagement party. I’m sorry about that. I was entangled in a very competitive tennis match on the courts out back for most of the day.”

Alicent asks: “Daeron, love, would you like a strawberry daiquiri when Criston reappears?”

“Yeah, Mum, that would be great.” He parks himself on the available chair beside her and begins asking about her book. As they chat, a blue macaw flaps through the garden and uses its long, leathery talons to claim the backrest of Daeron’s lounge chair.

“It’s so sweet of you to take an interest in my reading, Daeron,” Alicent gushes. “None of my other children ever do…”

Aegon groans loudly. Everyone ignores him. Criston arrives with two strawberry daiquiris, one for you and one for Helaena. You take a sip through a plastic straw with several loops in it: icy cold and jarringly sweet.

“And one for Daeron too please, Criston,” Alicent requests. “Did you hear that he just got another article published? It’s about evaluating rock wettability.” Her tone suggests that she has no idea what this means; nonetheless, she is ardently enthusiastic.

“That kid is going places,” Criston says admiringly.

Aegon counters: “That kid’s had phone sex with Michelle Pfeiffer.”

You laugh, thinking that it’s a joke. Daeron just gives you a sheepish smile. Oh, you think. Not a joke.

Criston hustles back inside the house. An old man passes Criston as he strolls out to the pool. He looks around blearily, like he’s hungover or has just woken up from a nap or both. His bloodshot eyes skate over you without much interest. He squints at the pool floats that bob in the rippling, crystalline water, sparkly rings and an assortment of foam noodles and a giant cartoonish alligator.

“How was Kiribati?” Aegon says.

“Much better than here. This goddamn humidity!”

“I can’t believe you missed the engagement party, Father,” Alicent says glumly.

“Oh no, how could I! I’ll never have any way of knowing what transpired!” He plops down onto a chair near the end of the row. His bare feet are gnarled, his toenails long and yellowed. “Let me guess. Cake was served, champagne was toasted, people bragged about their stupid hobbies and their ugly children, that girl scuttled about with her perpetually-startled eyes and asinine comments. Do you remember when she tried to give me her condolences when she learned your mother passed away years ago? Why would I want some moonstruck idiot’s condolences? She didn’t know your mother. She doesn’t know anything.”

“Christabel is very young,” Alicent offers gently.

“She’s very something, that’s for sure. Very useless. Very irritating. This family would be in a much better state if Viserys wasn’t the one making all the decisions. His judgment has declined precipitously.” He casts a poisonous glare at Aegon. Aegon pretends not to notice.

“I like Christabel,” Helaena says. Her chameleon gobbles up a butterfly that ventures too close.

“Yes, I’m sure you do.” The old man’s voice is kinder now. “You see the best in everyone. But dear Helaena, we are in for a lifetime of insipid simpers and vapid conversations.”

“A lifetime?” Aegon says. “So not much longer for you, Grandfather. What a comfort.”

The old man glowers at Aegon. “We should have left you in Alaska to have your throat slit by those animals.” And you hear Aemond’s words reverberating in your skull: I’ve never been to Alaska. That was someone else’s project.

Aegon is rolling himself a fresh joint, accidentally spilling sprinkles of weed on his slumbering ferret. He snorts. “I don’t care what Alaskans think of me.”

Daeron says: “Aegon, you poisoned 1,000 square miles of the ocean.”

“The fucking ocean,” Aegon mutters. “What do we even need the ocean for?”

“Vacations,” Otto says.

Helaena adds: “Sushi.”

Daeron is distressed. “Actually, the ocean is super important.”

“Why are we talking about the ocean?” Aemond asks as he strolls through the garden and pauses by the edge of the pool to dip a foot in to test the temperature. He’s wearing black swim trunks and nothing else, just his skin, just his scar and his glass left eye. He sees you, smiles, goes to the bakery boxes and lifts out a cupcake. He sits down on the edge of your lounge chair as he licks off the wave-blue frosting. No one makes any comment, and no one brings up Aegon’s role in the Ketchikan oil spill again.

Criston returns once more with a strawberry daiquiri for Daeron. “Well, I’ve just about killed the blender, so hopefully we don’t need any more—”

“But Criston!” Alicent cries. “What about Aemond and my father? Perhaps they are in need of refreshments.”

Criston sighs. Crestfallen, he looks at Aemond. “Do you want a strawberry daiquiri?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll just have a few sips of hers.”

Aegon says: “Can I get a pina colada?”

Criston turns towards the old man. “Otto? Daiquiri?”

“No, but if you could immediately teleport me back to the South Pacific, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Pina colada??” Aegon says again.

“Okay, Aegon,” Criston snaps. “Calm down. Let me figure out if we have any more coconut cream.” Alicent’s part-time bodyguard and personal assistant, part-time babysitter, part-time affair partner vanishes into the house yet again.

Aegon lurches to his feet. “No one listens to me,” he tells you morosely. “You see that? No one remembers. That’s how you know they don’t care.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Alicent tells Aegon, not looking up from her book.

“Wait, someone is missing…” Otto muses, stroking his beard.

Aegon staggers to the edge of the pool, drags over a sparkly turquoise inflatable ring, and flops onto it. He paddles himself out towards the center of the pool. His ferret bounds after him, leaps into the water, and swims until it reaches Aegon, wriggling through the blue like a golden-furred snake. “Hey Sunfyre, you wanted to come too?” Aegon lifts the soaked ferret from the water and places it on his chest, soft and sunburned. “My bad. I assumed you’d prefer dry land.”

Otto—cantankerous and grating—looks around, baffled. “Wait, where’s Viserys?”

“He’s inspecting some of the rigs out in the Gulf of Mexico,” Aemond says as he finishes the cupcake and takes a slurp of your daiquiri. “He won’t be back until the end of the week.”

“Thank God,” Aegon exclaims from the middle of the pool.

Alicent changes the subject. “How long have you been baking, dear?” she asks you.

“Forever, basically. But I started getting serious about making it a business when my daughter was really young, about nine years ago. Now Amir and I sell hundreds of items a week, sometimes thousands.”

Daeron is nodding along, but he appears a little confused. He has gotten himself a Cap’n Crunch Treat and is feeding pieces of it to his blue macaw. “And you do that because…you want to?”

“Well I have to pay rent.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

“And I could have been a checkout girl at the Doller General, or worked seasonally harvesting soybeans or sugarcane, or begged my ex-husband to get me a job in the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office…but I wanted to do something that didn’t make me miserable. And something that was really mine, that I chose.” Aemond is watching you thoughtfully. The other Targaryens are a tad interested but far more perplexed. They can’t understand work the way you do. They can’t understand money as something that must be counted.

“Brilliant!” Alicent declares at last. “Well, maybe one day we’ll have you making six cakes for Helaena’s engagement party, who knows!”

“It would be my absolute pleasure. Do you have a potential husband hanging around, Helaena?”

She giggles, covering her blushing face with both hands. Her chameleon creeps down to cling to her shoulder, as if to make sure she’s alright. Its conical eyes flit in random directions, an unmitigated freak of nature. You should have more compassion for it.

Aemond grins. “Helaena is responsible for no less than three broken engagements. She can’t commit.”

“And she’s only into guys who look like Aegon,” Daeron adds.

“No!” Helaena objects. “That is such a lie, that’s not true!”

“Evander?” Daeron says.

Helaena pauses to think. “Okay, yes, he looked kind of like Aegon.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Alicent frets, nibbling at the fingernail of her pinky.

“Dimitri?” Aemond says.

“Oh no,” Helaena moans; but she’s laughing too. “Oh no.”

“Sebastian?” Aegon says, and now they’re all howling.

Otto shakes his head. “Freud would definitely have some thoughts about this.”

“Bloody hell,” Helaena whimpers, swiping tears from her face. Her chameleon nudges her jaw with its shimmering, blue-green muzzle. “I totally only date guys who look like Aegon.”

Aegon shrugs from where he’s floating in the pool with Sunfyre. “Good taste, I’d say. Fuck them all, homegirl.”

“Aegon!” Alicent shouts, scandalized.

Criston dashes out of the house and to the edge of the pool, clutching a pina colada that is swiftly melting. “You better paddle yourself over here, kid. I don’t offer in-water delivery.”

“You’d do it for my mother.”

“Probably. But you’re not her.”

Aegon groans as he splashes around without making much progress. “Okay, okay, give me a second…”

Aemond turns to you. “How do you like the house? I realized I never got the chance to ask last weekend.”

“I like all the stained glass, and I like that every room is a different color. The living room is red, the dining room is yellow, the kitchen is teal, Aegon’s bedroom is black—”

“Wait, how do you know?” Aemond is alarmed.

You chuckle. “No, no, not like that. I was lost and looking for a bathroom.”

“Didn’t do anything,” Aegon announces from his pool float. “Didn’t do it, didn’t try it, didn’t even think about it. Well…maybe I thought about it. But I definitely did not do anything.”

“Okay.” Aemond exhales, relived. “Close call.”

“What color is your room?”

He’s not going to waste the opportunity to extend an invitation. “Let me show you.”

On the same floor as Aegon’s punk rock bedroom and the lilac bathroom, you trail Aemond to the end of the hallway. At last he opens a door to reveal a room that is a deep, vivid blue like sapphires. The bookshelves that touch the ceiling are filled not with texts on engineering or the energy industry but histories of people whose names you don’t recognize. He has a massive wooden canopy bed swathed in dark blue velvet patterned with circling koi fish made of stars. He has a writing desk, a wardrobe full of suits, a television with an extensive VHS collection. The stained glass windows are a whirlpool of cerulean, navy, aquamarine, indigo, steel, azure. When you peer through the glass, you can see the gleaming currents of Lake Verret and the twisted dead ends of the bayou that forms at its edges, treacherous and untamed.

And when you start to feel that if Aemond tried to grab you, undress you, tie knots around your wrists you wouldn’t stop him, you tell him that you want to go back outside to the pool; and Aemond listens, and he doesn’t try to touch you even once.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Monday, two days later, and Aemond calls to ask if he can bring you and Cadi dinner. He shows up with all the trappings of what he insists is real Italian food, doubtlessly prepared by his family’s private chefs: focaccia, caprese salad, ossobuco, risotto, Bolognese, panna cotta. He forgets the red wine, so you drink sweet tea instead, the three of you crowded around the kitchen counter, ceaselessly passing dishes back and forth while the little pink Panasonic boombox plays You Spin Me Round by Dead Or Alive.

“Hey Mom?” Cadi says as she chomps on a hunk of focaccia.

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you ever cook dinners like this?”

There’s a tiny little gut punch, something you’re used to swallowing down even if it bruises you to the heart, to the bones. She doesn’t know any better. You can’t cry, you can’t get mad. You shrug, dispassionate. Aemond glances over at you, abruptly tense but not saying anything. “Well honey, it’s probably because my job can be really busy sometimes, and I spend most of the day in the kitchen, so when dinner time comes around the last thing I want to do is cook. But we always have food to eat, right?”

“Yeah. Like Amir’s leftovers or frozen pizza or something. But all my friends’ moms cook nice dinners most nights. Can’t you do that? When I go to Michelle or Erica’s house for dinner their moms make barbeque ribs, gumbo, seafood boils, etouffee, tasso ham, homemade macaroni and cheese, like real dinners. I want us to have that too. What if my friends want to eat dinner here sometime? I can’t bring them over and then just throw some Swanson’s meals at them.”

Aemond has put his fork down on his plate and is clasping his hands together, trying to figure out what to say. But he shouldn’t say anything. It’s not his place.

You tell Cadi, as calmly as you can: “Different families have different kinds of dinners, and that’s okay. I bet your friends’ moms don’t have cakes and cookies around all the time, but you always have tons of dessert options. Our situation looks different than theirs, but there’s nothing wrong with either one.”

“But desserts aren’t even good for kids. Dinner is way more important. You can’t say I get cakes instead of dinner, too much cake will give me diseases or something.”

“Okay, Cadi. That’s enough. Let’s talk about this later.”

“I’m just saying it seems totally unfair that my friends get real dinners and I almost never do.”

Michelle and Erica’s moms don’t work. They have husbands to support them. So they can spend all day babying a fucking tasso ham, but I don’t have that luxury. And I don’t want to be chained to a man. I don’t want to trade having a say in how my life turns out for being able to slave away over dinner for four or five hours. “I regret to inform you that I’m not like Michelle and Erica’s moms.”

“I wish you were,” Cadi murmurs, entirely unaware of what she’s done. You bite your lower lip so you don’t snap at her, or try to explain, or break down sobbing. You taste blood, hot sharp copper that blooms like wildflowers.

Aemond stands up. His barstool squeals against the sloping wooden floor. “Hey, can I talk to you outside for a minute?” he asks Cadi.

“Aemond, what…?” you begin, but he’s already headed for the front door.

Cadi blinks up at him, horrified. “Why?”

“You’re not in trouble or anything. I just want to show you something. Come on. It’ll be quick.”

“Okay,” Cadi says doubtfully, looking at you. You give her your best reassuring smile, and she slides off her barstool and follows after Aemond. The front door opens and shuts. You don’t hear shouting, you don’t hear much of anything except the air conditioner and the boombox and the mourning doves, the long-eared owl, the cicadas, the bayou, the universe. You go to one of the living room windows and part the blinds to peek outside.

What you see is strange. Cadi is sitting on the swing, and Aemond is kneeling in front of her so they’re just about at the same eye level. You can see half of Aemond’s face; Cadi is blocking the rest. He’s explaining something to her with patient yet insistent gestures of his hands. Cadi says something, and Aemond nods and replies. He points to his scar, his glass eye, and says something else. Cadi asks a question, and Aemond hesitates. Then he acquiesces and moves closer to where she is perched on the tree swing. He reaches up towards the scarred side of his face, but you can’t see his eye. When he lowers his palm, there’s a small piece of curved, oval-shaped glass that glints in the dying sunlight.

“Cool!” you can hear Cadi exclaim, muffled through the windows that are now closed on account of the new air conditioning unit. She says something else, and Aemond agrees. You watch her hand extending towards his face, towards the injury he has revealed to her for reasons you can’t comprehend. You rush to other windows, trying to get a better view, but there’s no way for you to get a clear line of sight. Before you know it, your hear their footsteps drumming up the porch steps. The front door opens just as you’re scrambling back onto your barstool.

“Everything alright?” you say, more nervously than you intend to.

“Yup,” Cadi replies. She climbs into her seat and resumes wolfing down focaccia and Bolognese.

You look over at Aemond, bewildered. His glass eye is back in its socket. He appears composed, but you notice the fresh sheen of sweat on his forehead, at his temples, at the nape of his neck. He gives you a casual little smirk and then returns to his barstool. He picks up his full glass of sweet tea and drains it in three massive gulps.

“Hey Mom,” Cadi says, and your throat is suddenly full of embers.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Tonight is really fun,” she says. She twirls her fork in the pappardelle pasta of the Bolognese, splattering red sauce over her cheeks. “This is great. I want to do this more often.”

And the embers in your throat cool, vanish, are replaced by something vast and free.

“You really do need a new house,” Aemond says as he helps you clean up after dinner; Cadi has already abandoned you both for her Nintendo. “There are new constructions a little further down Route 401, between here and Lake Verret. Three bedrooms, two baths. Not a castle or anything, just the right size for you and Cadi. We can go look at them sometime.”

“I don’t need a whole new house. There are midcentury homes all over the place down here. They’re small, and they might need fixing up, but they’re a lot cheaper.” Then you add, because it sounds less pathetic: “And maybe it’s nice to have a house with some history, some character.”

“Old can be charming and quaint, sure. But brand new is better.”

“Why’s that?”

He smiles. “No ghosts.”

[incesthemes]

tag game!

thank you for the tag, @according2thelore 🥰

Do you make your bed? i basically live in my bed, so no. i want it cozy and making it makes it un-cozy.

What's your favorite number? 3! or rather, repeating 3s. my mom and i look for repeating 3s out in the wild ever since she heard about some kinda christian number thing relating to angels (idk i don't go there), and it's become a whole Thing. i like that we can share it :)

What is your job? i do translations...! spanish and japanese, mostly. i translated a video game last year too which i'm very proud of!

If you could go back to school, would you? yeah tbh. i hated school for disability reasons, but i really enjoy sitting in lectures and learning things. structured learning is great and super easy so i'd love to return. i'd be the kind of person who would get like 20 masters degrees if college were free.

Can you parallel park? noooo..... i never got that far lmao. i don't have a license and i would like it to stay that way for as long as i can get away with it. peace and love ✨

A job you had that would surprise people? i did an internship with the linguistics department while i was an undergrad where i helped do some menial work for a larger research project the school was conducting? i sucked at it though, lol

Do you think aliens are real? statistically speaking there's basically no way there's NO other life in the universe, so yes i do. i'm even fairly confident there has to be intelligent life outside of humans somewhere out there. i do not have any belief in any kind of alien life form having made contact with earth, though.

Can you drive a manual car? yes, actually. which is apparently shocking to people, considering i don't even have a license lmao

What's your guilty pleasure? i have an addiction to solitaire? i downloaded the app about a year ago but i am on level 329. ok girl get a grip

Tattoos? none yet, but i've had my first tattoo figured out since i was in high school. i just don't want to deal with the cost and care of it (lazy + poor...)

Favorite color? a very warm, light pink! almost peach-colored.

Favorite type of music? folk music :) and by folk i mean like. literally the songs people sang around a campfire 300 years ago. like dúlamán and the irish rover and rolling the woodpile and whatnot. but i also really like more modern folk music (big fan of umm santiano, plumbo, celtic woman, the builders and the butchers, mumford & sons, poor man's poison, the longest johns, stuff like that...) and country music. basically a bunch of genres along that sort of continuum.

Do you like puzzles? puzzles like jigsaw puzzles? i hate them, but once i start doing them i can't stop. logic puzzles or whatever are totally my jam, though. seriously i love them so much. i'm not interested in more hands-on puzzles like blocks and stuff.

Any phobias? nnnnno. i was scared of the ocean (specifically and exclusively trenches inside the ocean) growing up but then i got over that, and i've been working on getting over my fear of bugs so they're not super scary anymore either. i also used to suffer from trypophobia but it really hasn't been much of a problem in recent years. idk what happened there, though.

Favorite childhood sport? olympic-level sleeping? idk i tried a lot of sports at my mother's request when i was a kid, but i didn't like any of them. now i enjoy ice skating, but i live in the deep south where it's 80F nine months out of the year so like. lmfao

Do you talk to yourself? YES it's a generational thing. everyone on my mom's side of the family does it so i just picked it up naturally. i make myself laugh constantly ✨

What movies do you adore? my letterboxd Top Four are: the witch (2015), death becomes her (1992), the phantom of the opera (2004), and showgirls (1995) so it's kind of all over the place. i like movies with either very strong, well written stories or campy dumpster fires—NO in-between. the more artistic a movie is, the more likely i am to enjoy it. some other movies that really stand out to me

la sociedad de la nieve (2023)

late night with the devil (2023)

midsommar (2019)

the love witch (2016)

creep (2014)

mamma mia! (2008)

master and commander (2003)

zoolander (2001)

o brother, where art thou? (2000)

ravenous (1999)

romeo + juliet (1996)

the mountain men (1980)

the devils (1971)

beyond the valley of the dolls (1970)

so you can make of that what you will.

Coffee or tea? i don't actually like either unless you count southern sweet tea? i like chick-fil-a and mcdonald's sweet tea... but i drink almost exclusively water. if i'm feeling fancy, i like lemonade or like... craft root beer specifically. or sarsaparilla?

First thing you wanted to be when you grew up? an architect is the earliest i can remember back to, but i switched my passion project every couple of months and never really settled on anything.

i'm really bad at tagging, but let's go with ummmm... @schizosamwincester, @sam-winchesters-gay-lover, and @aceing-on-the-cake! no pressure though haha

[bisexualnerd]

Hii i wanted to tell you i loved that last chapter you dropped, I saw the tag major character death and immediately went ah. so it’s one of those fics. where jay dies and it’s just hurt hurt hurt as the last note. Ahhh just—they haven’t acknowledged each other as brothers yet your honor 💔 and Tim knows now (great pretending your found family aren’t also vigilantes acting from him) and Jason never knew, like peak potential. I can imagine he’s gonna go ??? who the fuck pulled my baby bird into the vigilante business and uh why?? without knowing (if this goes like we all know) that Tim was the one who wanted to honor him and keep Robin’s legacy alive. Also I can imagine the whole imaginary friend think goes back to a box at the back at his head?? Timmy was just getting warmer to the truth and Jay goes out to pull this stuff. classic. (me being annoyed) — Aww but really poor Jay I can imagine he’s never felt more spiteful of the fact that his powers don’t extend to phasing through things and not just walls. jay in my head: cursing under his breath how he just gets partial danny phantom adjacent abilities, i mean if he’s gonna have a power why not have it full pump I-can-walk-through-walls-disappear-and-fly package.

really just really excited where u take the fic, hope u don’t mind my rambling, just wanted to drop my thoughts 💜💜 also like take your time, i hope im not adding pressure or anything

Ohmygosh it's been so long since I've got an inbox on Tumblr!! And of course I don't mind because I'm ecstatic!!! I love hearing you guys' thoughts about my writing!!!

And Jay's death is like, such a constant in the fandom (and when he doesn't die, he still gets injured and traumatised so severely). And there was no way Tim would have let the Waynes know because if he had done that, they would have never, under any circumstances, let him go out to photograph anymore 😂😂

I actually did initially draft up his power to be able to phase through everything, but then I remembered all my evil plans for the series and I was like, skrttt~ STOP! And I had to nerf him 😅 Now I can picture a side story, or a small part of a fic of him cursing his power in Ethiopia 😈 (and why is partial danny phantom adjacent abilities so freaking funny 🤣)

Thank you so so much for the really fun and lovely inbox!!! I hope the direction of the series in the future will keep you interested 🥰🥰

[nursal1060writes]

I can finally post this fic!

Happy Valentine's Day - here is my DP Valentine's Core Exchange fic for @dp-marvel94 💕

It's a short fic about Dani trying to navigate her found family and asking Danny for help! I tried to make it sweet and cute, with just a bit of family drama! I hope they enjoy this fic, I've never wrote this style of family drama before! 🥰

I also count this as part of FYFFF - this fic is 'a WIP I am scared of'! I had a lot of second thoughts when working on this fic, but I'm glad it's finally up now!

@valentines-core-exchange

[o7k5a8m9i]

♠️🌸💖Queen of the Circus💖🌸♠️ Hisomachi Fanfiction🌹🌙💮

~| This is a Hisomachi oneshot (This is NOT cannon but this DOES include some cannon things if you wanna know what's cannon and not go look it up or ask me 🥰🌸💖🎐🍡✨💮 PS I know this story's really cheesy dumb and wholesome it's only cuz their kids when their older it's a completely different story lol🌹💘🌙🦋) [PG-13 ✨Backstory AU✨ again not really cannon ok enjoy💖🌹🎐🌸]

______________________________________________________________Machi POV: I was out on my nightly walk when I heard there was a circus in town (city it's meteor city) so me being the interested, little, 9 year old, girl I was. I decided to go take a SMALL look so no one would see me.

(She then hid behind a old car and watched the show. as much as she wanted to go home and sleep because she's a LITTLE kid she didn't she was hooked it was so Interesting to her🌹 the show was almost over the last act was on! it was a...... red haired little boy!?)

Machi POV: oh a little boy what can he do?

(The boy then performed a lot of AMAZING magic tricks)

[Ok I actually don't know what kinda stuff he could do back then so let's just say magic for fun ok?😅💖🌸] {PS it looks like this art NOT mine ⬇️⬇️💖🌸🌹}

(After the show little Machi was tired because it was 11:00pm that was late for her and her friends might get suspicious so she decided to take the short cut home)

[BTW her "Friends" is the phantom troupe they just did call themselves that yet]

(The short cut led her behind the tent/caravan or whatever the circus was performing/traveling in. she was doing good on her way till she saw something...)

Machi POV: huh oh it's that boy.... I'll just sneak past him..oh a apple yum I'm hungry....==.... maybe I'll steal his another apple....

(She saw the boy with red hair sitting in the back looking at the stars eating a apple there was one more apple beside him and she was gonna steal it because she was hungry. she sneaked up and hid behind some trash she was about to grab it when she heard a voice)

Boy: hey do you want this apple?

Machi: ahhhh!!!! w...w...who are you!?!

Boy: my name is Hisoka^^ what's yours?

Machi: m...m..Machi...

Hisoka: so do you want this apple?

Machi: uhhh......I...I..(she never took things that were offered to her she felt it was a sign of weakness but this time was different)

Machi: oh ok sure (*grabs and sits down next to him*)

Hisoka: Machi was it? nice to meet you^^ (*she just looks at him*)

Hisoka: so how old are you?

Machi: I'm 9 you?

Hisoka: ohh nice I'm 12^^.... so did you like my show? I saw you in the back behind the car^^

Machi: oh uhh.. (she thought she was hiding good and no one saw her)

Machi: yeah you're impressive...

Hisoka: your not to friendly are you? it's not your fault though you don't know how to be~

Machi: Hey don't jump to conclusions!! (he was right though)

Hisoka: oh sorry...I just don't get the chance to meet people...

Machi: I... it's ok...I really liked your tricks..///(*she was embarrassed*)

Hisoka: really thanks!!^^✨

Machi: no prob..///

Hisoka: Hey wanna be friends?^^

Machi: uhh...ok sure==////...

Hisoka: ohhh thank you!!^^~

Machi: but wait don't you live in this traveling circus you'll just have to move again besides I never really had a friend before....///

(the troupe is like family not friends)

Hisoka: well true but we'll be in town for two more days and we'll come back!^^ don't worry meteor city is one of our top places to visit~

Machi: I wasn't worried!!/// and ok we'll be friends.... I guess...

(*they ended up talking for awhile about all kinds of stuff*)

Machi: oh heck it's 1:00am!!! I gotta go!!

Hisoka: oh uhh ok..hey can you come back here tomorrow at 10:00?Machi: ok I will...bye... Hisoka..///

Hisoka POV: she said my name!^^~///

(and just like that Machi ran home as fast as she could. but little did she know he was forming a crush on the beautiful pink haired girl he just met and even she Machi Komacine was forming a small crush on the clown boy she just met although she'd never say it)

{Art NOT mine ☁️}

{|♠️🌸🌹TIME SKIP🌹🌸♠️|} ××× Tomorrow Morning ×××

Feitan: hey Machi wake up..

(*Sleepy Machi raisins her tired hard of her ripped up pillow*)

Machi: huh...Oh Fei hi what's up...==..

Feitan: Where were you? you were gone all night...what were you up to?

Phinks: yeah what were you doing?

Machi: uhh I....uhh......///..

(*she didn't want to say she spent the night with a clown boy she met From the circus it was embarrassing*)

Chrollo: come on guys don't push her she'll tell us when she's ready^^

Machi: thanks Chrollo///

Chrollo: no problem^^

[×× Later that night ××]

Machi: ok I'm off on my walk bye.

Pakunoda: bye Machi^^💖

(*Little Machi ran to the Circus and watched the show till the end*)

Hisoka: Oh Machi!!~^^//

Machi: hi clown boy

Hisoka: clown boy....////Cute I like it~^^ oh I got you something!

Machi: huh what is it?/// (*Hisoka hands her a caramel apple*)

{🎐Just a cute drawing NOT mine 🎐}

Hisoka: it's a caramel apple^^ I've been saving it since I was in the last town but I wanna give it to you^^~

(*Her eyes lit up like they never have before as she held the apple she said Something she DID NOT say often in the happiest tone*)

Machi: Thank You it's so beautiful I've heard about them but I've never actually seen one thank you!!^^💖 (*but honestly she's still a child*)

(*They spent the rest of the night talking eating and having fun*)

Machi: oh it's getting late a gotta go!

Hisoka: ok take care dear Machi^^~

Machi: ok I will (*then she stopped walking and froze*) tomorrow is your last day here isn't it?///....

Hisoka: uhhh yeah it is....but we'll come back!💖

Machi: ok see you tomorrow I wanna show you my favorite spot's!^^

Hisoka: ok I'm excited to see them^^~

{|♠️🌸🌹TIME SKIP🌹🌸♠️|} ××× Tomorrow Afternoon ×××

(*Machi was heading out on her walk early because she wanted to show Hisoka her favorite spot's to play hang out and look at she doesn't have belongs so showing him her favorite places is her way of thanking him for the yummy caramel apple*)

Shalnark: Machi where are you going?^^

Machi: uhhh no where.......///...///

Chrollo: uhh Machi I need you to help me do some stuff sorry^^

Machi: oh uhh ok no prob^^

(*Btw by "STUFF" he means VHS stuff you know. read the manga^^*)

(She helped Chrollo but it took longer then she expected it was now 11:00 she was LATE even though she knew she couldn't show him her spots she could at least see him one last time. after a lot of running she got there and saw him standing in the back where she first met him it made her sad to think this was.....the end)

Hisoka: huh? oh Machi!!!💖 I thought you weren't coming!?^^~

Machi: yeah I was busy....///.....sorry..

Hisoka: it's ok I just appreciate you coming at all everyone always thinks I'm just a freak like a toy or something...

Machi: well....I don't think you're a freak infact I think you're really cool!

(*These words made Hisoka smile a small but beautiful smile*)

Machi: so tonight is it you'll be gone tomorrow...

Hisoka: yeah but and even if it takes YEAR'S I'll come back to you!^^

(*Machi blushed and sat beside him*)

Machi: t.. thank you...///...sorry I couldn't show you my spot's..///

Hisoka: aww it's ok maybe next time^^~

Machi: yeah...so what time do you leave?

Hisoka: uhhh 8:00am

Machi: ok wait for me I'll come tell you goodbye!

Hisoka: aww it's ok you don't have to do th-

Machi: No I'm gonna do it!

(Machi had never been wanted before everyone left her she was alone)

[Not the troupe they're family]

Hisoka: well ok then^^~

{|♠️🌸🌹TIME SKIP🌹🌸♠️|} ××× Tomorrow Early Morning ×××

(*Machi was woken up by Pakunoda*)

Machi: huh... what's wrong Paku?==

Pakunoda: well you were crying in your sleep are you ok?

(*Machi just realized she was crying she wasn't sad but tears fell from her eyes then she remembered her dream it was about her Mother she didn't wanna remember anymore besides she had to go say goodbye)

Machi: oh yeah I'm fine thanks Paku^^

Pakunoda: well if you're sure...

(*then Machi looked at the time 7:30am*)

Machi POV: oh no I'm gonna be late!! all I want is to say goodbye!(*Machi got up and ran as fast as she could she ran faster and faster and finally she saw the caravan leaving she looked around but didn't see him then she looked to her left and saw him sitting looking at the rising sun and for the first time in her life she felt this feeling like her heart was being squeezed*)

Hisoka: oh Mac-(*he was cut off by her hugging him*)

Machi: Bye clown boy^^

Hisoka: bye little Machi I can't wait to see you again^^

______________________________________________________________

[And as they parted ways they both found something they never felt Love and it was a beautiful and sad thing but they had hope even if they had NO idea that they and feelings for one another. but the question is would they meet again?🌹♠️🌸]

{If y'all like this I'll continue the story!💖☺️ actually I'm gonna anyway because I have plans!!✨🎐 anyway if you have any questions let me know no hate please!🥰💮 ok bye bye I hope you continue reading my cheesing story's 😅🌙🌹till we meet again!🌸}

Thank you💖💜♠️

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Hello again!! Tomorrow is my birthday 🙈 so I just wanted one more self indulgent request!!

Could I please request phantom fam (plus snake) x maid reader, who is the newest addition but has been a great addition to both the staff and the weird little family so they are all secretly throwing a lil surprise party? Like the whole ‘avoiding said person and giving weird awkward short answers’ to keep the party a secret? Then of coarse the reveal and cute cake?!?

Many thanks to you 🥰

I'm sorry I didn't get this out for your birthday this year, but I hope you had a good one!!

also AAAAAAAAAAA <3

When SNAKE scurries away from you with little provocation, you don’t really think much of it.

After all, the poor man is still adjusting to life here in the manor. (Similarly to you. If you’re remembering correctly, he arrived just a few weeks before you did.) Not only that, he seems quite skittish in general, so it’s no big surprise that he’s shying away from social interaction. As welcoming as you try to be, there’s only so far that can go toward someone who’s naturally anxious.

However, when FINNY makes an excuse as to why he can’t spare a moment to chat today, you find it odd. After all, that man is as sunshine as they come! He always has a minute to talk to you, to make jokes, maybe even give you a little hug. He’s never beat feet from you no matter how busy things are.

And SEBASTIAN and BARD have been acting strangely too, seemingly in tandem; Bard all but shoos you away from the kitchen, telling you Sebastian will bring you something to eat and a glass of water. Certainly, you can understand that Bard says he’s trying to concentrate on a complicated dish and so can’t have anyone else in the kitchen… it’s just odd that he’s suddenly so focused.

Sebastian is a strange case. He’s not one who engages in too much idle chitchat, so you can believe that he doesn’t want you distracting Bard. Still, something about it strikes you as very strange.

Then there’s MEY RIN, who nearly falls down a flight of stairs in an attempt to run off in the opposite direction when she sees you coming. Even when you try to hurry over to make sure she’s alright, she yells that she’s fine and she needs you to go remake the master’s bed because she mussed it up.

Honestly, your young master might be the worst. CIEL is a bit cold to most people, but today it’s as if he barely has a word for you. He keeps giving you short, clipped orders, without so much as glancing at you.

You like to think of yourself as a resilient person. Today, though… it feels almost as if the entire household wants nothing to do with you. That stings, especially today.

You’re sitting on Ciel’s bed which you’ve just remade, intending to smooth the bedclothes out one last time once you stand up. You can’t help wondering if you’ve done something wrong, or if perhaps your presence simply isn’t a good fit for this household after all. It’s unfortunate, really ― you thought you were getting on so well with everyone.

Maybe not. They’ve all made up some reason to not be around you today, and not one of them has remembered…

Before you know what’s happening, Finny is in the room, so fast it’s as if he were a bullet shot from a gun. “(Name)! (Name)! Come with me, hurry! We need you!”

“Wha ― Finny!!” He’s so terribly strong, all you can really do is let him pull you down the hall. “What’s going on?!”

By the time he stops to answer, the two of you are at the top of the stairs. He takes your hands, gently, and looks in your eyes rather earnestly. “I hope you can forgive us all, but I think we’re about to make up for how confused we’ve made you today!”

You shake your head. “What on Earth do you mean, Finny?”

“Close your eyes and I’ll lead you downstairs! C’mon!”

The only option you have is to do as he says, right? Your curiosity won’t let you just turn around or go down yourself. So you close your eyes, letting him lead you down.

Even after the two of you get down the stairs, he keeps walking you. “Can I open my eyes now, dear?”

“Almost! I’ll tell you when.” A few more steps, and… “Alright, alright! Open them!”

You oblige as he lets go of your hand. What you see when you open your eyes is… the whole rest of the staff gathered in the parlor, along with your master. There are a few decorations strewn about, and a painstakingly detailed two-tier cake sitting on the table.

What’s more, before you’ve even processed everything, everyone chimes in borderline practiced harmony: “Happy birthday, (Name)!” (Well, with the exception of Snake adding in a quiet, “Says Webster.”)

You’re surprised you don’t fall back flat on the floor.

Is this what they were all avoiding you today for? So they could catch you off guard after pretending like none of them remembered your birthday?

Quickly, your eyes start filling with tears, and your hands fly up to cover your face. Oh, it would be so embarrassing to cry in front of Ciel and your coworkers, but… “I-I thought you’d all forgotten…”

“Of course not, my lady.” Sebastian steps forward, reaching to replace Finny’s hands with his. “Our sincerest apologies for making you think that. We had to keep you away until everything was just so.”

“We wanted you t’ ‘ave a special first birthday with us, we did!” Mey Rin pipes up, giving you a bright smile.

Bard clicks his tongue as he lights up the single candle on the cake. “Oi, sorry, it took me way too damn long with the cake, even with Mister Sebastian’s help. We didn’t mean t’ keep you waitin’ quite this long.”

You almost don’t notice Snake walking up beside you, until he gives you a pat on the shoulder. “We’re both new here… says Webster. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one struggling to adjust.”

Ciel silences everyone else by stepping forward. “(Name). I want to officially welcome you to the estate. Like it or not, you’re a Phantomhive servant now. If you don’t feel you can carry yourself with pride for any other reason, do so for that reason.” You swear you see his lips quirk up briefly, though it’s gone as soon as you notice it. “That isn’t a request; that’s an order.”

Sebastian moves his hands from yours to set his on your shoulders, gingerly guiding you forward. “Come, come. You must be looking forward to your cake. Do be sure to make a wish as you blow out the candle, won’t you?”

You look around the room before nodding. You feel so overwhelmed, you don’t even know what to say. “Th… thank you, everyone. Mister Sebastian… Bard… Mey Rin… Finny… Snake… a-and… and Lord Phantomhive. Thank you so much. I… I can’t tell you how much all of this means to me…”

Well, the best gratitude is to make sure your wish is a good one, isn’t it? You take a breath, then lean forward and blow out the candle. Knowing Bard, you’re shocked it isn’t some kind of sparkler.

There’s a scattering of applause among everyone else as you lean back, then Sebastian moves around you to start cutting the cake.

“What did you wish for? Asks Donne.” Snake tilts his head at you, briefly, before eyeing the cake with the gaze of a child in a sweets shop.

“Oh, Snake, you can’t ask her that!” Mey Rin chides. “She can’t say! If she says what it was, it won’t come true!”

“It won’t?! No, I suppose it won’t, Donne…”

Surrounded by people who truly care about you, for the first time in a long time… you feel like you belong somewhere. And you feel like even if you say something, your wish will probably come true. But you’re not taking the chance, because you’ve never wanted a wish to come true more in your life.

I wish… I get to celebrate my birthday here with my new friends next year, too. And the year after that. And every year until they tire of my company.

(Though, you get the sense they never will.)

[agere-fandom]

i’m a bit late and don’t know your fandoms but if u want: 🤫, 🪀, 🥰, ❤️‍🩹, 🎈, 🪶, 🙋‍♂️, 😀 for the agere headcanons game ? (feel free to leave some out if that’s too many)

KHFBGKDSBJF- EEEEE- I'll do spiderverse!! And Miles because he's my sweet boy :> 🤫- Write about a secret they share with their stuffie - I feel like Miles would share "secrets", like how he accidentally pushed over his legos or something, but he thinks their secrets anyway lamo- and he's like 'shhh!! you can't share this!!" (also i think he would have a lizard plush, because i hc little Miles having a big interest in reptiles :) ) 🪀- Do they like to do activities they did as a kid? What feels nostalgic to them - Definitely watching movies/tv shows he liked as a kid or would like now. Static Shock, Spidey and his Amazing Friends, OK KO, Craig of the Creek, TMNT and Danny Phantom are the shows he would watch the most while he's regressed 🥰- What type of relationship do they have with their caregivers outside of regressing? Is it romantic, platonic, familial? - Ooooh, I think he has pretty close relationships to his friends or whoever takes care of him while regressed. Mostly Peter B (since he's Miles' top caregiver), but I think with those who also regress along with him (Gwen, Hobie, Pav, ect) also love to be around him!! ❤️‍🩹- It's been a hard day, how does the caregiver recover with their little one? - I think for anything, Peter knows exactly how to take care of Miles mostly in this state the best out of anyone. It would mostly be after a mission or when he's thinkin about uncle Aaron again or somethin and he's all saddd :( Peter, having the fatherly instincts he does, would usually set up a movie and be like 'wanna watch somethin and make a pillow fort?' and Miles will feel better (and mostly because he can cuddle) and boom idk- xD 🎈- Do they have any toys? Is there a specific type of toys that they like to own? - Action figures!! He loves them so much. He usually doesn't play with the more vintage figures and leaves them in their boxes, but from that, he still has a bunch to play with! Mostly TMNT or (coincidentally) Spider-Man figurines! He'll play ninjas or superheroes with Gwen's Barbies! (and it ends in them fighting who's got the best figurines/dolls xD) 🪶- Do they have a specific connection to what they regress to? If so what is their connection - I don't think Miles would regress for trauma per say, I feel like he would've missed his childhood and been like 'hm, i miss being a kid, i wonder how i could do that and not just watch old tv shows' and then one day he finds Pav regressed and Hobie caring for him and he's like 'oh, this is a usual thing you can do to cope take it as you please' and then it just happened, i guess (i'm not so sure for the ending lamo) 🙋- Why do they regress? - Like I said before, mostly because he missed being a kid and wanted to be in that nostalgic set of mind. He's still embarrassed about regressing and actually opening up around people about it, but still. He'll usually do it alone or with Peter B or Gwen mostly. 😀- Write about their first regression experience - Okay, so like, it was after a mission and Pav kinda rushed away for some reason and Hobie went after him. Miles was like '???' because he didn't think of Pav being so anxious, but oh well. Then Miles came to check on him later on, because he's a concerned person around his friends, and gave Pav a scare from just coming out of nowhere. And Hobie was then explaining about what age regression is and trying to calm down Pav, and Miles was like 'ohh, that explains why Pavi sometimes acts more like a kid' and then started to think about doing this regression stuff and then he kinda just went into a fuzzy state and the rest is history, i guess?? thanks for asking! 🕸️

[findafight]

I also need to know about your lavender marriage fic and the Big Brother Steve AU

Also Ty for the ask sweet moot I’m going to answer it when I’m back at my laptop and not on my phone avoiding my family during dinner LMAO- withacapitalp

Thank YOU for the ask 🥰 Okay so the fic that is SPECIFICALLY about lavender marriage (because I must be honest...I can see them getting married in any and all aus I make) is the stobin Hollywood golden age au. Or: Lavender's Blue, Lavender's Green, Lavender's Everything We'll Be.

This fic is GRAND in scale. It is EPIC. It is the greatest Platonic romance of generations.

I have a particular fondness for multimedia/epistolary type fics, and this one would be. So good for it. Like Photoplay articles or interviews, reviews of movies they made/were in, academic articles written contemporarily and as retroactive analysis.

But anyways in this au the upside down ends in 1935 with the equivalent of starcourt happenning except Hop doesn't die and the Byers don't move. Steve and Robin elope after she graduates in '36, and by February of '37 the two have somehow acquired a diverse gaggle of children. Again. They adopt them, as the children are orphans or abandoned or fell through cracks the Great Depression exasperated.

They are absolutely bizarre in Hollywood and everyone sort of wants to find out more about these two newlyweds who are working as an editing assistant (Robin) and a...general gofer that sometimes does walk ons who miiiight be getting his big break soon.

Anyways in the fifties, after the war, Robin directs her first musical starring Steve called Baseball, Baby! In which the world sees his iconic bat twirl. (Later paid homage to by Ewan McGregor in phantom menace!) And Steve sings about not caring which way he swings. (Think spiritual precursor to I don't dance in HSM2)

There are papers written about the homoerotism of...many of Steve's parts, especially in the war film he made. It's. Not particularly subtle if you are looking for it at all. Icon.

Robin, during the war, helps sponsor refugees get to the states. She also helps fellow Hawkins native Chrissy get back on her feet after her husband goes overseas. Even after, when they find out Jason was killed, the Buckley's welcome her into their home and family. Some of the children occasionally call her mother! How sweet.

As for big brother Steve. Hm. Ah. I think it's going to be snapshots, just little pieces of trying to fit a baby into healing from the upside down. Also Eddie Suffering via Seeing Steve With Baby. It awakened something in him.

Steve cosleeps with baby tintin because 1)good for baby 2)good for over protective big brother who wasn't held enough as a child and doesn't want that to happen. This leads to the very adorable picture of Dustin, busting in as usual and completely forgetting there is a baby in the house, finding Robin and Steve both curled around Tintin. Robin is drooling and slaps Steve. Baby has Steve's fingers in her tiny hands.

And there is a mini fic coming (maybe not so mini:/) for an ask I got weeks ago about the kids of the party bonding with Baby Tintin!! It will come. Soon. Ish.

[hanafubukki]

The Love of a Family

Summary: A young Malleus Draconia travels back in time to meet Lilia and his older brother, Silver.

Characters: Young Malleus Draconia, Silver, and Lilia Vanrouge

Notes: I saw Lian’s post yesterday about Big Brother Silver AU and brain literally went haywired ( @rayroseu​ ) Please check out her post, its so precious and beautiful and still has my heart aching and I loved it so much. Big Brother Silver AU has a soft place in my heart now and I just had to have them meet. I just had too 😭😭💚💚 I hope you enjoy. I’m not used to writing non-reader insert stories, but I did my best 🙌💚 (This is 1k+ you can tell my brain went brrr 🥰🥰💕💕💕)

Mother…

Father…

Even Silver…

I’m so sorry I was born too late and never got to meet you all…

Malleus felt his tears drip down his face, splattering on the album in front of him.

He loved to look at this album; Lilia always said how it was filled with people who loved him.

His mother and father hugging his egg.

Lilia drawing little bats on the egg.

Big brother Silver, as a baby, shared a cradle with him.

Big brother Silver looked so happy.

As Malleus flips through the pages, he saw how time changes and so does Lilia and big brother Silver.

Always cradling the egg and giving love.

Malleus wiped his face, looking at the ring the brother he never met wore in the picture.

The same ring that was hanging around his neck.

Malleus recalled what Lilia had told him:

o   “Silver had wanted you to inherit his ring. He wanted his younger brother to know he was loved and cherished. How proud he is that you finally hatched.”

o   The smile Lilia wore was tinged with fondness, love, and sadness.

o   Malleus wanted to reach out and wipe that sadness away.

I wish…I wish I got to meet you big brother Silver….

Malleus fell asleep on top of the album, unknown to him, a haze of magic swirled around him.

Silver patted the egg in front of him before wrapping it with a blanket.

Nice and cozy.

He leaned his head slightly on it.

Father is working hard to find a way to make you hatch…I don’t understand how I can use love in making you grow…even so, I still would love to help.

Malleus-sama, I hope you know how loved you are. I hope you will hatch soon so everyone can meet you.

Silver turned, startled, at feeling a burst of magic coming from his father’s study.

Father isn’t home.

Silver grabbed his nearby sword, glancing at a white dove near the windowsill, who chirped before flying to relay his message to his father.

Silver used his magic to shield off the room, only with his death can anyone enter.

As if he would allow anyone to hurt his little brother.  

Silver silently treaded across the hallway, using the shadows to keep out of sight of any potential dangers.

He was the personification of the Phantom General.

Silver opened the door, weapon ready…

…only to be surprised by the dragonling in front of him.

Silver watched as the little dragon fae ate the mushroom risooto he made him.

When the dragon fae had awoken, he had surpsied Silver with a hug.

Big Brother Silver! You’re here!

Silver had returned his hug just as tightly.

Said dragon tightly held his hand, as if he never wanted to let go.

When his father had returned home, Silver had already put Malleus-sama down for a nap. He had promised him he wouldn't leave his side.

His father looked relieved at the sight of Malleus-sama, tears shining in his eyes. Silver knew exactly how he felt as he felt the same.

Lilia raised a trembling hand and placed it on the dragonling’s head. Malleus mumbled and continued to sleep.

Lilia and Silver couldn’t help but smile.

Malleus-sama loved as strongly as any dragon kin, fiercely.

He would pull Silver with him everywhere.

He would root for him against their father when they sparred.

o   Lilia pouted, “Hey! Why don’t I get any support!”

o   “Big Brother is cooler than you!”

o   Lilia gasped in fake affront before chasing the little one.

o   Silver laughed.

o   He smiled as he looked on in fondness.

o   His little brother was adorable.

Malleus-sama would always ask Silver to cook, not that he could blame him as his father wasn’t…the best.

Malleus-sama’s and Silver’s favorite part of the night would be when the three would share a bed. Silver and Lilia would take turns reading to Malleus, both using magic to make some of the scenes come alive. Malleus would giggle before they would all eventually fall asleep together, cuddling under the blanket.

o   “Goodnight Father and Big Brother.”

o   Father and son smiled as the fae unknowingly melted their hearts and brought more joy to them than he would ever know.

As time went by another issue arose…what to do with this young fae who belonged in another time?

They had both decided to convince Malleus to return home.

Though admittedly it was difficult to deny the young heir anything, especially when he loved so wholeheartedly.

It was decided that Silver would be the one to talk to Malleus.

After all, Silver was the reason that Malleus had come and it was for Silver that Malleus wished to stay.

Time would be kind to Lilia, but not as kind for Silver. Both Lilia and Silver knew that all too well.

For that very reason, Silver had chosen to talk to Malleus-sama.

Lilia watched from afar as Silver brought up the topic and watched as Malleus cried.

Maybe in another world or another time they could have shared a life, but in this life, this was the hand granted to them.

Which was all the more reason they cherished this time together they had with the prince.

Silver had to stop himself from retracting his statement.

Silver wouldn’t deny the fact that a part of him wanted to be selfish, wanted this little one to stay with him.

But he knew, he knew he could not do that.

The unhatched egg and his father in the future came to mind.

“Do you not love me Big Brother Silver?”

“Malleus-sama, I love you more than you know.”

“But then…why?”

Silver wiped the fae’s tears, “There are so many people who love you in the future and are waiting for you. Father misses you.”

“But you’re not there.”

“I know.”

“But I love you, Silver.”

Silver pulled his dragonling on his lap and rubbed his forehead with Malleus’, “I know, I love you too.”

Silver cupped the little one’s cheeks, “Malleus-sama, knowing you grow up to be such a good kid, knowing you grow up healthy and happy, has brought father and I more joy than you will ever know.”

Silver pulled at the necklace around Malleus’ neck and kissed the ring, “No matter what time you are in, I will always be by your side. My precious little brother.”

Malleus hugged Silver as tears ran down his face before he felt Lilia also joining in.

Lilia moved a stray hair away from Malleus’ eyes, “Time to go now, young one.”

Malleus nodded and hugged them both once more before he gradually disappeared before their eyes.

Silver and Lilia smiled as hope and love for the future grew.

Father and son watched the stars that night, with Silver’s head on Lilia’s shoulder.

Silver carried the egg preciously, remembering the precious child that will be born.

He kissed the egg, thinking of the tiny scales that were on Malleus-sama’s forehead.

Silver felt a surge of affection when, surely it wasn’t his imagination, the heartbeat from the egg grew just a tad bit stronger.

When Lilia took it from him, he allowed himself to peck it as well, thinking about the cheeky one that will eventually be born.

Lilia swore he felt the egg warm up a few degrees more and turned to Silver in excitement.

After all, it was True Love that would allow the egg to hatch.

Malleus Draconia awoke, feeling more joy and love than he could ever remember.

“Malleus!”

“I’m coming, Father!”

Malleus ran.

He knew without a doubt that he was loved.

He didn’t notice the green aura mixed with pastel pink around him, nor did he see how the ring around his neck shined.

I love you Big Brother and Father.

He ran towards his loved one, ready to tell him about his adventures.

I hope you liked it 💚🥰🌺 This was fun to write 🙌💚 and something very different than what I usually do which I am very proud of.

Now, did Malleus travel back in time? Was it his UM? Was it Silver’s? A combination? A dream? Well, that’s for you to decide ☺️🥰💚

[angeart]

... I would like to know about your OCs... pretty please?

-🎀

ribbon anon my dearest!! you wanna hear about them? 🥺🥰

the drawn characters are rei hayden and raven hayden, and they're meant to be twins. "meant to be" because... well, let's backtrack a little.

the story on raven's side starts on one fated new years eve. he's spending it alone, unhappy, contemplating his life. he makes an unwise and impulsive wish, yearning for something different.

this wish yoinks him and transports him to a very scary place <3 but dw! there's a guide person! and he recognises raven (which is odd :3c) and keeps saying this is a place for lost souls.

but he also says raven isn't lost.

the place kind of turns into a nightmare, the world shifting and reshaping around raven, and– there's a maze, and rising water, and lots of mirrors, except every single of his reflections looks different and acts on their own. (and not in a good way. they look kind of desperate.)

i'm trying to be concise here, so let me just say he gets out of this mid-world (by drowning while staring at one of his reflections that looks so so sad <3) and wakes up... in a bed. in an unfamiliar apartment. with a person with his face telling him to hurry up and get ready for school.

so! huh. that's weird.

raven's never had a brother, least of all a twin, but here rei is, flesh and blood, looking at raven in a way only an annoyed family member can.

here's some fun bits about the story:

raven is considered to have an irregular amnesia where he occasionally forgets everything about his life. this alludes to this not being the first time something odd has happened to some raven in this world. it's also not medically accurate, because, spoiler alert, it's not amnesia. and our raven remembers his life, and this wasn't it, thank you very much.

rei is the irresponsible brother. the troublemaker. the lone wolf. he also gets into fights and has enemies. he tries to reaaaally sell that he doesn't care.

raven kind of sees through that lie, gradually at first, then more steeply.

raven has a digital watch that stopped working the moment he was spirited away. which is 8 seconds before midnight on new years eve. it's his only possession that's carried over.

the new years eve hasn't happened here yet. it's before christmas.

you'd think this world is Nice and Safe and Normal, besides all that, but wrong! raven still sometimes catches his mirror reflection moving of its own accord, and he hears voices behind his back, and feels phantom touches that sometimes feel a bit too real. let's not forget about the nightmares.

he's exhausted and confused and scared and it's getting worse.

basically, he doesn't belong in this reality. these are the ways in which this reality is rejecting him, absolutely messing with his perception <3

there's a lot more going on here, about why he's here, and what happened before, and what the voices are actually telling him, etc.

there are other characters too! (but i tend to draw mostly just raven kjxbnk) the other characters include:

evia, a bullied girl with a horrible home life who just wants to escape it all, and gets tangled in with rei thinking he might be her ticket out (seeking out protection, even for the price of being used)

nick, a gang leader who doesn't shy away from violence, thinking rei needs to pay for some things he did in the past and learn his lesson (his methods are questionable; he's ready to hurt and destroy anything in rei's vicinity to prove his point and bring rei down to his knees)

and kye, nick's friend, who's genuinely only trying to do a good thing, but agrees with nick that rei needs to be stopped. he tries to take people away from rei safely, in order to protect them from the blast zone of this mess, convinced rei doesn't really care about them anyway.

here's a 2022 art of raven as a bonus <3

[purlturtle]

How would you recommend someone getting into discworld? I was just gonna get the first book in the publishing order and go from there, is that a good way to do it?

Hi and thanks for asking! I hope you don't mind me replying in the form of a public post, because I've been asked this a couple of times by now (🥰) and I think a public post that I can refer to is gonna be helpful!

The good news is that these books can be read in ANY ORDER. Yes, really. There are, I think, two instances in which a later book directly builds on what happened in a previous book, but even then the events of the previous book are referenced enough to make reading the later book on its own absolutely possible. What you *will* gain in reading them in order, either by subseries or as the whole series, is little easter eggs and a fuller sense of the Discworld as a setting. Now, having said that, I'll put the possible approaches under a readmore, so as not to clutter up people's dash:

These are the possible approaches:

The chronological approach will allow you to appreciate Pratchett's development/improvement as a writer. If you are already resolved to read more than one book (or intend to read all of them!), this is valid and very rewarding. However, the first books are a bit like Star Trek TNG's first season: he's still finding his way into Discworld as a setting, and into his voice as a writer. They are fun, but not all that representative of the (quality of the) rest of the series. I have advised multiple people, who couldn't get past "The Colour of Magic", to ditch that approach and try a different book.

The abbreviated chronological approach, in which you start with a later book in the series, and from then on read in publishing order. This way you jump over the Early Instalment Weirdness. Different people have different opinions on "when Discworld gets good" - mine is that by Guards! Guards! (skipping the next book, Eric), things are on more than solid ground. This one also works best for people who are ready to invest in a long-term reading project.

The subseries approach will help readers who are a bit up in the air if they really want to devote that much time. There are several subseries, characterized by a recurring cast of characters and themes, that you can read in *their* publishing order. These subseries are: the Witches, starting with Wyrd Sisters (a core cast of three witches, of course - the maiden, the mother, and the... other one, supplemented by recurring other characters, including more witches. Themes revolve around personal and social responsibilities, how communities work and how you can contribute, justice especially for "those that have no voices", and how fairytales and folklore works), the Wizards (very much not my favorite; if you detest academia, you will find the laughs in it, but it's extremely male-centered. Themes revolve around cowardice and courage and belief), Death as the personification of the end of life, seven foot skeleton and all, starting with Mort (a core cast of Death and his dysfunctional found family, including Susan, a true badass. Themes revolve around care for those entrusted to you, and around belief and ethics. They include some incredibly poetic imagery, and WILL make you cry, and also feel uplifted), and the Watch, starting with Guards! Guards! (a ragged band of misfits solve crime in Ankh-Morpork, largest of cities on the Disc. If you like Noir and Whodunnits, you'll love these. Themes revolve around what makes good policing and good politics). There's also a series of Young Adult novels starring Tiffany Aching, who grows into being a witch throughout these books.

The themed approach: several of the Discworld books directly spoof "Roundworld" stories or concepts, so if you like those stories or concepts, you'll probably like the Discworld take on them. Wyrd Sisters (a Witches book) = Macbeth. Witches Abroad = fairytales, Grimm and otherwise. Maskerade = The Phantom of the Opera. Moving Pictures = the early decades of Hollywood. Soul Music = Rock 'n Roll. Carpe Jugulum = vampires. Feet of Clay = golems. The Night Watch = Les Miserables. Hogfather = Christmas and its pagan origins. Small Gods = a scathing take on Abrahamic Religions, especially Christianity. The Truth is about journalism and journalistic integrity. If you like Leverage the TV show, Going Postal and Making Money will be right up your alley. Pyramids is about Egypt and The Last Continent is about Australia and Interesting Times is about Asia, but all of these are unfortunately books about "foreign cultures" written by a white man and it shows; I'm just including them for completeness' sake, but will recommend skipping all of them unless you're a staunch completionist. The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rats is the Pied Piper of Hamelin reimagined (and will also come out as an animated movie sometime soon).

I am old enough to have read half the series in publishing order or rather, as they got published. A new Pratchett book was an automatic buy and instant read. I literally cannot overstate how deeply this series of books lives within me; I can quote you Pratchett for almost any situation in life. There are people holding off on reading The Shepherd's Crown (the last book published) so that they'll always have a "new" (as in: unread) Pratchett book on the shelves. These books will make you laugh and cry and wonder and stare at the wall and rage incandescently and change you. I shall leave you with a picture of my most cherished possession:

(ID: a photo of the frontispiece of Feet of Clay, with a signed dedication:

To Jana A word in your head! (Terry Pratchett's signature)

And a speck of sweet mustard on the side because I approached him in a restaurant as he was eating Weißwurst; serves me right but I love it! /End ID)

[sound-traveller]

SNOWY!!!!! WELCOME BACK TO THE TUMBLRVERSE BESTIE OMG...!!!!!

I MISSED YOU!!! THERE'S SO MUCH TO CATCH UP ON TOO GDNFJGJFJJKJ

What's up???? How've you been????? HOW'S SCHOOL BEEN?????? I've been rooting for you this whole time!!! 😉

Did you get any cool new f/os while you were gone???? I've been head over heels for Rockstar foreverrrrrrrrr until recently!!!

Now M.adhous.e M.ik.e is reeeeeeeeeeally gripping my heart jgbngmhnbmnm... handsome phantom man who makes the cutest expressions ever, EVER 🥰💖💖💖💖

HUGGING YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW... HIIIIIII 😭🫂🫂🫂🫂💖💖💖💖

♡• rockstars-babe •♡

WAAAAAAAAAAH HIIIII!!! its so good to see u too!!! i missed being on here and talking w/ everyone tbh =w=

im still technically not ungrounded yet BUT ive been improving on my grades and my mom's letting up a bit on restrictions so yippee!!! uwu

also OMG THE GREEN GUY!!! Ive seen him all over ur acc lately, he seems like such a chill guy..,.. very companion shaped too.,.,. i would very much like to learn more about him he looks so nice. he can even do the friccjcin :3 face oh my god

As for new f/os i have 2 or 3 that ive gained over my absence! say hi to 7753 shes the newest one ive had out of all of them >w<

(iirc i posted about her exactly one other time but i ended up going back on it bc i unfortunately mistake affection for attraction with a lot of my f/os. oops.)

anyways she's a familial f/o now!! not sure how exactly but she's there! ive been very fixated on her lately too.,,.,. i wish nothing but the best for her,..,.,

ALSO UH!!! FEEL FREE TO COME INTO MY DMS OR DISC ANYTIME TO TALK YEAYEA!!! TYSM FOR DROPPIGN BY !!!!!

[alex-guerin]

Malex ♦: Slow dancing

🥰

Alex smiled to himself as he sat watching friends and family dance across the floor. The bride was absolutely beautiful -- but then, he was slightly biased since she was his daughter after all -- and the smile on her face as her new husband twirled her made his chest tighten in happiness. It still didn't seem real to him, that she was all grown up and now married. It seemed like only yesterday he and Michael had brought her into the world and spent hours dancing her around the living room to get her to sleep.

Tyler dipped Nora before pulling her in for a kiss as the band announced that other couples could now take the dance floor while the newlyweds giggled over each other and made their way back to their table for a short break. A shadow fell over him, a weathered hand suddenly held in front of his face. It was a hand Alex knew intimately. One with a gold band resting securely on the ring finger, exactly where Alex had placed it thirty-five years ago.

"Wanna dance?"

Looking up into honey-brown eyes that still shone just as brightly with love and laughter as they had when they were seventeen, Alex smiled fondly and shrugged.

"I dunno. Last I checked your idea of dancing was shuffling your feet and grabbing my butt."

"Only way to dance. Besides, you've still got a very good butt to grab. Can you blame me?"

Alex laughed softly as he took Michael's hand and allowed himself to be helped up and out onto the dance floor. His arms slipped up over Michael's shoulders, hands interlocking at the base of his neck as Michael slid his own hands low on Alex's back, pulling him in so they were pressed close from nose to toes. Their foreheads touched and Alex couldn't help but close his eyes and sigh as Michael quietly sang along; his lips brushing whispered love across Alex's.

And tell me that we belong together Dress it up with the trappings of love I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above

And I'll be your cryin' shoulder I'll be love's suicide And I'll be better when I'm older I'll be the greatest fan of your life

"You played this for me at our wedding," Alex murmured.

Michael hummed in acknowledgement, one hand slowly running up and down Alex's spine.

"And every anniversary after that. Still can't believe Nora wanted to get married today of all days."

Another laugh bubbled up out of Alex as he pressed himself closer but tilted his head back enough to meet Michael's eyes. His fingers twitched to reach up and play with the curls that had become more like gentle waves in the years.

"She gets her romantic side from you, you know. Honestly, I can't believe she remembered today was the anniversary of our first kiss."

"With as many times as we had to tell her the story? I can," Michael huffed as he leaned in to press his forehead to Alex's again.

Their bodies swayed in time with the music and for a few moments in time the world around them faded away. For a few moments, Alex was seventeen again, being kissed by a boy for the first time and feeling a warm, hard body against his own for the first time.

Now, on the wrong side of sixty, Alex was still in the arms of the man that boy had become. He was still the one Alex kissed every morning and every night. The one that made Alex laugh and held him when phantom pains reared their ugly heads. Michael still took his breath away with his smiles and laughter and the way he was so patient with their kids. He was the only one Alex ever imagined having a family and growing old with.

As the song drew to a close, Alex tilted his head just enough to meet Michael's lips for a gentle kiss. Nothing heated, nothing that would embarrass Nora or the boys, or little Sandy. Just a gentle kiss full of promises they both intended to keep forever.

"Papa! Come dance with me!"

Michael pulled back from the kiss to smile down at Sandy, 12 years old and an absolute force to be reckoned with. She tugged at his arm insistently until Michael stepped back from Alex with a raised eyebrow. Alex smiled softly and nodded.

"Go ahead. I'm gonna see if I can steal a dance with our other daughter before Greg and Walt get to her again."

"Good idea," Michael leaned in for one more kiss. "Don't forget, last slow dance is mine, though."

Nudging his nose lightly against Michael's Alex smiled serenely and pressed one final kiss to his husband's lips.

"Always."

~*~*~*~

Kids are based off that Vlamburn interview where they were trying to decide their kids names and came up with Nora, Gregory, Walt, and Sandy. I've accepted this and run with it now. Ages are as followed in my headcanon...

Nora -- 27

Greg and Walt -- 21

Sandy -- 12