#one is 12 the other is 10 the other is 8 n the youngest is 1 (he caused so much chaos....)

[no-144444]

hi! i love your blog and i know this is kind of weird but just hear me out. do you remmeber the 'anything but f1' thing they did this year? what if oscar's topic was his girlfriends career and she was like a huge superstar on broadway and on the screen? and he like knew EVERYTHING and answered every question perfectly?

i hope you like this idea, if not, that's totally fine.

thank you ml xxx

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knowing me, knowing you- o.piastri

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a/n: thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long :)

summary: i suggest you look at the ask...

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

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Oscar was too warm and tired for this. He stood in front of a camera, smelling like hairspray and some sort of spray the makeup artist had put on his face, while he was asked all of the ‘Grill the Grid’ questions. 

“That’s it for ‘Grill the Grid’,” she explained. “But this year we have a new segment.”

“Oh yeah?” he questioned, his interest piqued. 

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Anything but F1’,” she smiled. “Your topic is Y/n Y/l/n’s career,” she chuckled. 

Oscar smiled. “This is going to be easy.”

“Will she kill you if you don’t get full marks?” she laughed. 

Oscar pondered. “Probably not?” 

“Alright then. Ready? Pressure is on.”

He nodded. 

“What was Y/l/n’s first role on Broadway?” 

“Matilda,” he nodded. Y/n Y/l/n, his girlfriend, you, also an EGOT winning actor, the youngest there’s ever been. 

“Correct! How old was Y/l/n when she made her Broadway debut?”

“Well, she was 8 in Matilda on the West End and did 2 years of that, so 10?” he answered. 

“Correct! How old was she when she played Sally Bowles, making her the youngest to have ever played her on a Broadway stage?” 

“She was 17.”

“Correct! How old was she when she got her first Tony?” 

“11 years old.”

“Correct!” she smiled. “What Disney princess did she play?” 

“Huh?” he questioned, not knowing that you’d voiced a disney princess. “She’s voiced a Disney princess?” 

She nodded. 

“In a Disney film?”

She nodded again. “Think about it.”

“Does she sing in it?”

“The princess does sing,” she explained. “But Y/l/n did also write a song for it.”

Oscar was stumped. “Can I come back to it?” 

“Sure,” she shrugged, moving on to the next one. “What was her first feature film?”

“Lés Mis,” he answered. “She played Cosette.”

“Correct! What happened at the 2013 oscars?”

Oscar chuckled. “I think Jennifer Lawrence fell over and took Y/n with her?”

“Correct! What is her most streamed song?”

“Does this include recordings she was a part of or just her solo career or the band too?”

“One of those is fine, but if you can give me an answer for all though, we’ll give you an extra point.”

“So,” he started explaining. “Y/n’s most streamed solo single is probably American Teenager, her most streamed band single is probably BABY SAID, and her most streamed cast recording was probably Wicked, or Hadestown.”

“Correct, and it is Wicked.”

As he explained his answers, his trainer and others in the room started to laugh. He knew everything about you. He was so down-bad it was almost embarrassing, but they understood it anyway. You’d been together since you were 14, you were 23 now. You get to know a lot about a person in 9 years, especially from teenage years to being a young adult. 

“What record did she break by winning an Oscar in 2018?” 

Oscar smirked and winked at the camera. “She’s the youngest person ever to gain an EGOT.”

“What school did she teach at in her early years?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “How old was she?”

“Ages 8-12, she taught here on and off, and not many people know about it since she didn’t go into that field of the arts.”

He groaned, trying desperately to think. “The Royal Ballet in London!” He exclaimed, finally remembering. 

“Correct! Next question, how many Tony awards does she have?”

“Oh shit they’re on the mantel at home…” he muttered to himself, trying to count them in his head. “5?”

“Correct. Who has more trophies?”

Oscar chuckled. “I have more trophies, but she has more awards.”

“Alright, how many Emmys does she have?”

“1, which she won this year for her role in the Bear.” 

“Correct, how many Broadway or West End shows has she been a part of? You get a bonus point for naming them all.”

“Oh alright, so Matilda, Annie, Into the Woods, Hamilton, Heathers, Spring Awakening, Mamma Mia!, Moulin Rouge!, Cabaret, Six, Parade, Hadestown, Chicago, Wicked, and right now she’s doing Lés Miserables for the first time on a stage,” he explained. “So that was… 15?”

“Just one more?” she hinted. 

Oscar’s face fell. “What? What else has she done?” he asked out loud. “I said Wicked?”

She nodded. 

“Did I say Mamma Mia!?” 

She nodded. 

“Did I say Phantom of the Opera?”

“No, you didn't! Congratulations, bonus point awarded. What has she said is her dream role?”

He took a deep breath. “It’s going to be really bad if I get this wrong, isn’t it? Alright, so, she has always wanted to play Ms. Honey in Matilda,” he watched as the interviewer shook her head. “Shit, alright. Any hints?”

“She said it would be the only way to get her back into a specific show,” she hinted. 

“Oh! Emcee!” he cheered. “God, how could I forget that?”

“Well done! Alright, one final question, what song did she sing at the 2023 grammy awards, where she debuted her first single after ‘LISTEN’, her band, went on hiatus?”

He smirked. He was there for that performance. He was sitting in the crowd as you sang. He got to take you home and congratulate you. He got to be the proud boyfriend all night. He loved it. It was one of his most fond memories. “She sang ‘That’s So True’. I was there.”

“The infamous kiss picture,” she winked at him. He nodded, a smug smile on his face. “So, going back to the other question, what Disney princess did Y/l/n play?” 

“Oh shit yeah, it was animated, yeah?”  

“Not necessarily,” she hinted. 

“Ariel!” he exclaimed. “Ariel, of course!”

She chuckled. “Congratulations, you know the most about Y/n Y/l/n’s career out of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“One would hope,” he chuckled.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[norrizzandpia]

What We Could’ve Been and What We Are Now: The Masterlist (LN4 x Reader)

Summary: Jon’s daughter and childhood best friends, Y/n and Lando share a special type of love. A love that has always made them prioritize each other, show up no matter what when the other needed them. A love that turned romantic so incredibly, strikingly fast. When their friendship finally addresses that shared feeling and labels are thrown around, their connection takes a turn. Arguments, trust issues, and petty insults make up their young love and it’s not what either of them expected. A turning point, a stupid mistake, brings out an inevitable end and the two are left to stand in the midst of a destroyed relationship, a friendship that is no longer salvageable. However, young people make stupid mistakes that they later grow from and what happens when years later numbers are unblocked, words are shared again, and the love they shared burns once more? Warnings, an author’s note, chapter links and summaries, and a playlist below the cut!

Warnings: language, smut in later chapters (that will be specified on specific chapters), cheating

Note: please don’t be turned away by the cheating warning 🙏🏻 trust me when i tell you it all works out in the end in a way that does not have Y/n looking like she has no self worth

Chapter Links:

The Youngest Love (Chapter One)

A backstory to the beginning of a love story.

A Beautiful Start (Chapter Two)

Ever since their first official date, Y/n and Lando fall into the honeymoon phase.

Why Can’t You See It My Way?! (Chapter Three)

Arguments and bickering turn what once was into something messy and painful.

A Stupid Mistake (Chapter Four)

In the wake of their fight, Lando wakes up to someone who is not his Y/n.

If You Don’t Tell Her, I Will (Chapter Five)

Something that started out with the purest of intentions ends with the most dirty confession.

Please, I’m Sorry (Chapter Six)

Lando tries and tries to contact Y/n after their fallout. However, with a blocked contact and an angry Jon, he can only do so much.

Reconciling (Chapter Seven)

When he can’t reach Y/n, Lando goes to apologize to his second father.

Years Later (Chapter Eight)

His first race win is not the only reason why Lando is having the best day of his life.

Stay Up With Me? (Chapter Nine)

Picking up where they left off has never seemed so easy yet Y/n can’t get rid of the nagging fear of what could be repeated.

Listen To Me (Chapter Ten)

At the risk of another fallout, Lando works to stop from losing what he so foolishly lost before.

The Playlist:

1. The Grudge by Olivia Rodrigo

2. Logical by Olivia Rodrigo

3. Making the Bed by Olivia Rodrigo

4. Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo

5. Take It All by Adele

6. Tolerate It by Taylor Swift

7. Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift

8. Hurt Me Once by Ben Platt

9. Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift

10. Keep That To Yourself (voice memo) by Tristan

11. I Miss You, I’m Sorry by Gracie Abrams

12. Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine

13. Movies by Conan Gray

14. Cardigan by Taylor Swift

15. Your Needs, My Needs by Noah Kahan

16. Betty by Taylor Swift

17. TV by Billie Ellish

18. Footnote by Conan Gray

19. Fine Line by Harry Styles

20. August by Taylor Swift

21. The 1 by Taylor Swift

22. Special by SZA

23. Marjorie by Taylor Swift

24. Decode by Sabrina Carpenter

25. Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift

26. Strawberry Wine by Noah Kahan

27. All My Love by Noah Kahan

28. Talk by Hozier

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

A Mouse in a Lion’s Den Pt.3

Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister Warnings: childhood trauma, emotional/psychological abuse, large age gap Words: 3869 Summary: After years spent in Dragonstone, you are finally brought to the Red Keep; ready to become Rhaegar’s bride. Part 1  Part 2  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  

Book One of Heir of Ash and Fire

Tensions were boiling in King’s Landing. Hardly the right time for a wedding but Rhaegar seemed to be growing tense with each second his father lost his sanity. He had to seal the deal before Aerys changed his mind.

Rhaegar had enough on his mind, what with the ominous things he had read in a book when he was younger and with the plans he had to overthrow his father. Many of the kingdoms had sworn alliance to Rhaegar, promising to back him up whenever he said the word.

Yet he thought of the little girl- no. (y/n) was no longer a child. According to the maester at Dragonstone where she now lived, she had been having her moon’s blood for quite a few years now and (in the maester’s opinion) was ready to be wed. Their engagement had held on long enough. It was time. Before he decided to wage war against his father.

*

Fingers smooth against the inked words on the sheet of parchment you had received yesterday. You lost count on how many times you had reread it. Tyrion had grown so much while you lived in Dragonstone. You missed him dearly but made sure to write to him as soon as he had learned out to read. No raven could keep up with all the letters you sent one another back and forth. You couldn’t help it. If you couldn’t be with him physically the next best thing was letters. And boy did Tyrion write a lot. His grammar and writing was impeccable for his age. You were so utterly proud of him.

Smiling you hold the note close to your heart and lean against the harsh stone wall. You had written to your father, begging him to send Tyrion to Dragonstone seeing as you weren’t permitted to leave until your wedding or unless Rhaegar was with you. Your father never replied to any of your letters. You should have been used to it though. You just really wanted to see your baby brother.

Occasionally you received letters from Jaime who had been inducted into the King’s Guard at such a young age. The youngest in fact to have a spot in the guard. Tywin was still upset about the fact that he had lost his heir to King Aerys. Of course he would never accept Tyrion as his heir. Tyrion wasn’t up to his standards, just like you weren’t either. There you were though. Engaged to Rhaegar. He tried to visit you as often as possible, even take you with him on trips, but with Aerys quickly losing his mind Rhaegar’s visits grew less and less. Ravens from him still came though. Rhaegar always kept true to writing you, no matter how busy he got. He wrote you once claiming that it was therapeutic and reading your letters always took him away from all the stress of King’s Landing. It made you feel of use to him. He still never explained why he chose you as his bride, even when you asked him. Rhaegar would just smile at you, the way he always did with such genuine warmth, and gently run his thumb under your chin. No matter how much you grew he always referred to you as his mouse. You used to hate it so much but coming from Rhaegar you learned to find it endearing. You were a goner, you knew that the last time Rhaegar came to visit you. It was inevitable that you would fall in love with him. Cersei was right. Rhaegar was the most handsome man in all of Westeros. And the kindest.

You kiss Tyrion’s letter before putting it away with his other letters. Dabbing at your eyes that had grown a little wet, you head out of your room to go visit Rhaella. She had been your companion for the past couple of months. Dragonstone seemed to be the safest place for her considering that she was about two months pregnant. Safer than the capital at least. Rhaella was probably in danger from her own husband too.

She was happy to be away. Even if her pregnancy was making her incredibly sick she told you that she was just so happy to be away from Aerys.

“What if I get sick when I get pregnant?” You ask her. There were times when Rhaella couldn’t even stand up. Her pregnancies had always been difficult for her. She’d had a multitude of miscarriages and still-births. The children she did manage to bring into the world only lived for a few months; at most a year. It had taken her so long to be pregnant with Viserys and even then it was touch and go, constantly worried that he too wouldn’t live for long. Rhaella shoots you a tired smile. “It is not unusual for a woman to get sick while pregnant. It goes away after some time. That shouldn’t stop you from having babies. You’ll be queen after all. It’s your duty to provide heirs.”

Right. Marrying Rhaegar meant. . .

Your face heated up. You may have had the body of a woman grown, but you were still ever the child.

Turning your head to look out the window you see the setting sun bleed into the ocean making the reflection a bright orange-pink hue that seemed to glow in the evening light.

“Excuse me for the interruption.” A maid timidly knocks before opening the door slightly. Once she gets Rhaella’s okay, she goes in. “A raven just came from King’s Landing. For the Lady (y/n).”

You hold your hand out so she could pass it onto you. Cracking the wax seal that had the three headed Targaryen dragon. Your eyes scan, recognizing Rhaegar’s graceful handwriting.

“Oh.”

“What is it?”

“Rhaegar wants me to go to King’s Landing. He says we will have our wedding.”

The queen inhales sharply.. “Does he really think right now is the right time for a wedding?”

“Apparently.” You worry about Rhaegar. Things must be bad if he’s finally chosen a date for your wedding. You had been engaged for a few years now, it was about time. Still. . .

You stand up. “Well. . . I should start packing.”

*

It had been Cersei’s idea to join the King’s guard even if it did infuriate Tywin. At least it saved Jaime from marriage. He could keep true to Cersei and not be forced to marry some insufferable woman. Despite being his sister, Cersei was the only woman for him; Jaime was sure of that. He hadn’t felt the way he did with Cersei with any other girl. He didn’t even bother with prostitutes. No one could compare to his sister.

Although this job was starting to grate on Jaime’s nerves. Aerys was unstable. Anyone who dared oppose him to his face was met with a long and painful death. He was not fit to rule Westeros. Rhaegar was though. Jaime remembered when Cersei had been younger how she had fawned over the silver haired prince. That all stopped once it was announced that their younger sister (y/n) would be the one to marry him. Jaime was happy; partly because it wasn’t Cersei and the other was because he knew Rhaegar would treat (y/n) the way she deserved. (y/n) would be a good queen, Jaime had no doubt. She wasn’t meant to be born a Lannister. But maybe a Targaryen.

He hoped that Aerys would be overthrown soon so he wouldn’t be able to hurt (y/n). There were plans in the making, he had heard. Tywin was willing to backup Rhaegar as were many other lords. Aerys had been quickly losing popularity and the seven kingdoms were turning to Rhaegar.

Until the day where Rhaegar finally decided to strike against his father, Jaime would continue to half-heartedly protect Aerys. His time on the Iron Throne was dwindling anyway.

“Are you sure marrying the Lannister girl is a good idea?”

Jaime stopped in his tracks, controlling his breathing so that he wouldn’t be detected. Aerys had continuously spoken about his doubts of Rhaegar marrying (y/n), but he was the one who allowed it in the first place. Jaime himself couldn’t understand why. She had been just a child when Rhaegar first met her. A quiet, unimpressive, little thing she had been. Yet both the king and prince had deemed her worthy enough to take on the Targaryen name when Aerys had refused someone like Cersei for Rhaegar’s bride.

Rhaegar’s clear, musical voice cuts off whatever the first one had continued to say. “There’s no need to worry about (y/n), Griff. She isn’t like the others in her family.”

Jon Connington. Of course he’d be the one to try and talk Rhaegar out of marrying a Lannister. He was the prince’s most trusted friend. A little too devoted at times.

“She could be fooling you. Those Lannister lions are good at lying. She could very well be working with Tywin to take the throne out from Targaryen rule! I just can’t understand why you’re marrying that child.” Griff exclaims a bit exasperated as if they had discussed this plenty of times before.

There’s pause before Jaime hears shuffling, perhaps Rhaegar clasping his good friend on the shoulder as the silver prince often did. “I wanted to take her out of that oppressive family, Jon. The first time I met her she looked so scared to even speak. There was no love for her from even her own family. And perhaps I couldn’t help but feel a connection to her. A kindred spirit. Even as a prince there wasn’t much I could do to make her situation better.”

“Except marrying her?” Griff scoffs. “Why do you even care so much about this girl?”

“She was the only person to ever ask me if I was lonely.”

He didn’t want to hear anymore. Jaime left just as soundlessly as he had been. That was why Rhaegar was marrying (y/n)? It made his mind reel. (y/n) was loved, surely she was. True the Lannisters were cold with their affections but that didn’t mean she wasn’t loved any less. At least that’s what Jaime tried telling himself. After that time when Cersei locked (y/n) in a lion’s cage he knew that she cared not for her little sister. It had slightly horrified Jaime that she had done such a thing. Cersei tried justifying her actions by claiming that she was trying to toughen up (y/n). That she was too soft. That’s what their mother had loved most about (y/n) though. Her softness. And that’s what Jaime found endearing as well. He loved Cersei and her fearlessness and tenacity. She was what every maiden should aspire to be. All the beauty and more that Joanna Lannister had possessed, except her sweet nature. That had solely been passed onto (y/n). Maybe that was why Tywin couldn’t even look at his youngest daughter. Everyone knew how much Tywin had loved his wife; perhaps the only person he had ever loved.

Regardless, Jaime couldn’t deny any longer that (y/n) hadn’t been treated that well by the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally.

Nails curling against his palm, Jaime marches back to his station by King Aerys’ side. That’s where he belonged.

For now.

Jaime just had to wait. In the meantime he would enjoy seeing his little sister again. Rhaegar had boarded her up in Dragonstone as he too feared any threat from his own father. Jaime hadn’t seen (y/n) since she had been shipped off.

When (y/n)’s ship was sighted about to dock in the Blackwater Bay, Jaime saw Rhaegar and his entourage leave to go greet her. Jaime would’ve gone as well but was under strict orders to be with his fellow King’s Guard and be close by to Aerys. He finally got to see her when Rhaegar reluctantly brought her to see the king.

Jaime couldn’t help but stare at who used to be his little sister.

*

You smile when you see Jaime and would’ve run to hug him had you not been holding onto Rhaegar’s arm. Just like you had thought, Jaime had grown into such a handsome young man. He looked every part of a proper knight.

Not wanting to be rude you turn your attention to King Aerys. There wasn’t much that had changed of Aerys since the last time you saw him except for longer hair and nails. His eyes appeared even more sunken in for not eating much from the fear of being poisoned.

Regardless of his appearance you curtsy to show him that you weren’t a gawking child anymore. You had grown since the tourney at Lannisport. You were still no Cersei and you never would be, but having been able to grow away from the expectation of being like her you were able to become your own person.

He’s unimpressed but gives you a nod. “So Rhaegar’s bride has finally arrived.”

“Yes your Grace.” Even though he hadn’t asked about her you tell him that Rhaella is doing fine and that the baby inside of her continues to grow. Aerys doesn’t seem to care about that either and just answers you with a grunt. The queen had already told you that they cared not for each other; that their marriage had been their father’s idea. And thus the Targaryen sibling unions continued on as they had done with Aegon and his sister wives. Except for now. Rhaella hadn’t had a daughter for Rhaegar to marry. Which you suppose was good news for you.

The king still unnerved you, no matter how much older you had become. This man was unstable and dangerous. He killed anyone who spoke ill of him without batting an eye. You wondered how your brother was able to protect someone like Aerys.

His pale lavender eyes roam from you to Jaime. He grunts again before muttering something about Lannisters and waves you off, having enough of your presence.

You cast one last look to Jaime on your way out. You hoped you’d be able to speak to him and catch up. Jaime nods your way, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“You must have a lot to say to him.” Rhaegar comments, finally being able to breathe now that he was away from Aerys.

“Yes but I can understand that he has other things to do.” Still holding onto his arm you shrug; being the understanding person that you were. “He’s grown so much.”

“As have you.” notes your prince making you blush slightly. You wondered if Rhaegar even realized how his words sounded. “Your brother looked shocked as well. Then again he hasn’t seen you in years.”

Taking a deep inhale you try and force down the nervousness that had been creeping up on you. Putting on a confident smile you beam up at Rhaegar. “If you’re not busy I would like a tour of the Keep.”

He grins back at you, eyes sparkling like gemstones; illuminated by the stream of sunlight that cascaded in through the windows. “Of course. This will be your home soon after all.”

That was right. You were there to finally wed Rhaegar. You would no longer be a Lannister. You would be (y/n) Targaryen, Queen of Westeros. A title that would’ve originally gone to Cersei had Aerys not rejected Tywin’s match proposal.

“My home. . .” The word was foreign on your tongue. After your mother had died Casterly Rock had no longer felt like your home. Even Dragonstone had never truly been your home.

He pauses hearing the timidness in your voice and goes on to say “I can’t guarantee you’ll be completely safe. Being my wife will have it’s challenges. There will be rough times ahead. It might take me away for months on end. I may even need to send you back to Dragonstone. Know this (y/n), this is our home. I will be your home. You’re not alone anymore (y/n). “Beautiful long fingers weave with your’s.

“Neither are you Rhaegar.”

For the past few years of living at Dragonstone and Rhaegar visiting you when he could, you had come to know the Silver Prince better than anyone else. There were days where he would be morose, stuck in his melancholic thoughts that concerned the future. A future that he warned you all of the seven kingdoms should be ready for. He was always thinking and planning ahead.

There would be light on his features when you spoke to him though, excited about what Tyrion had wrote to you or a story you had heard. You had even begun to learn the harp just to be closer to him. You would never be as good as Rhaegar on the harp but he had told you that nothing made him happier to hear you play. As clumsy as your playing was.

You didn’t know if he truly loved you the way you did him; he never kissed you yet sometimes he would take you into his arms. Rhaegar was sweet enough with you but did he love you? In arranged marriages it wasn’t uncommon for the couple to not love each other. Yet someone as cold as your father had fallen in love with his intended. Your parents had an arranged marriage but they had loved each other immensely. When had they fallen in love, you wondered. Could Rhaegar find it in himself to love someone like you? He was the most beautiful man you had ever met, physically and mentally and even though you had grown into your own person comfortably you still doubted his affections for you.

Rhaegar showed you around the Red Keep and you noted the area as you wanted to familiarize yourself with what would indeed be your new home. He even showed you the Dragon Pits where once all the Targaryen dragons had been kept. The two of you ventured down into them, an odd sensation running up your spine as you remembered the lion cages below Casterly Rock. You kept close to him as the memories came back to you. Noticing your slight fear, Rhaegar grabs your hand; reassuring you that you were safe. He tells you stories about the dragons that his family had once had and about the internal strife that would lead to the Dance of Dragons. You passed by a few dragon remains, and perhaps even human as well. The Targaryens had a rich and long history, even before the Doom of Valyria. They even sounded like fairy tales you mother might have told you. These stories were real though. No wonder Aerys had been hesitant, as Rhaella had told you, marrying you to Rhaegar.

A bit tired from your travel and from walking around the Red Keep Rhaegar takes you back so that you could rest before dinner. It was greatly appreciated as you flung yourself onto the giant bed that was provided for you. You and Rhaegar would not be sharing a room until you were married but your room was right next to his. Even being one room away from him was close enough. You flop around on your bed, utterly happy to be near Rhaegar. You couldn’t believe that you would finally be his wife.

Once your excitement died down, exhaustion finally seized you and you were asleep in no time.

You didn’t know how long you had been asleep when you hear knocking on your door.

Groggy you lift your head from your pillow, (h/c) hair sticking up in odd places. You roll out of bed and smoothe down your hair with your hand before going to answer it. You’re immediately wide awake.

“Jaime!” You practically sing, keeping your arms at your sides otherwise you would have thrown them around your older brother. You were just so ecstatic to see him and that he was the one to reach out to you first. He look magnificent in his armor as he leans against your doorframe.

“Are you sure you’re really my little sister?” Jaime chuckles and pushes off from the frame to waltz into your room. “What happened to the little girl that I saw off to Dragonstone?”

You twirl happily around him. “She grew up! Just like you did! You’re finally a knight. Not just any knight. You’ve gotten yourself a place in the King’s Guard. You did exactly what you wanted to do. I’m so happy for you Jaime.”

And truly you were. Jaime had been able to get out from under Tywin’s oppressive control. Then again even Tywin couldn’t tell his headstrong twins what to do. Jaime never took well to orders. It was different now that he was a knight.

A crooked smirk made him appear so much older. “And I’m happy for you too. You’re getting married and will someday be a queen. That’s a lot from originally being a mouse among lions.”

“Now I’m a mouse among dragons.” You chuckle and observe just how much your brother had changed. It seemed he was doing the same thing with you. You always did like it when Jaime’s attention was solely on you. You pull out a chair and urge him to sit down. You didn’t know how long you had with him before he was called back to Aerys’ side. “Tell me what I’ve been missing out on.”

*

Her facial expressions were so genuine; (y/n) literally wore her emotions on her sleeves. Her pure, unadulterated happiness nearly rendered Jaime speechless. She was. . . absolutely stunning. That shy, awkward little girl was gone. (y/n) still had tha shy blush to her cheeks but she hid her nerves with a bright smile. Jaime truly couldn’t believe his eyes when he first saw her. She hadn’t tried to hide behind Rhaegar in the presence of Aerys as she had done years ago with Jaime. If Jaime were being honest though he had kind of liked when his little sister would seek him for protection. He didn’t like timid girls but (y/n) had always been a different story. Maybe because she was his baby sister. Cersei had made it a point very early on that she didn’t want to be protected. She was capable of doing that herself.

With (y/n) though. . .

She had been downright adorable when she cowered behind Jaime. Cersei and Tywin may not had appreciated (y/n)’s frailty but Jaim had. Seeing her so grown up, so matured. . . Jaime couldn’t begin to describe what he was feeling. He wasn’t used to being taken by surprise. Wasn’t used to the sensation of his breath being taken away. Even when he had seen Cersei naked for the first time he hadn’t been nervous. He had bent her over and fucked her without hesitation.

A bat of (y/n)’s eyelashes though and Jaime was ready to lay down his sword for her and swear fealty and loyalty.

“You will be a wonderful queen.” Jaime says randomly that interrupts (y/n) from whatever she had been saying.

Her smile is blinding at his words.

He knew then and there that it was going to be absolutely difficult to see her wed Rhaegar.

[cafeinthemoon]

Ruins - Part XVI

Chapter 16

Wordcount 4,1k

Title Part XVI

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 💛

Warnings: none

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So... it's been a while lol Some things happened the last weeks that kept me away from my works, but finally I'm back 💜 During this time, I've faced stress from work, I got COVID, I recovered from it, got back to work for a few days until my vacation started, then I traveled, and now I'm back home. I didn't map this chapter, but I already knew what I wanted to include in it, so it wasn't really hard to work on it. As a way to apologize, I made it longer, so I hope you enjoy it :)

Hermes and all the younger gods who worked under him haven’t had that amount of work in a long time: having a date settled for the next weeks, your wedding was now a reality, and given the unprecedented nature of the union and the fact that one of the most important gods was involved in it, there were many people to be informed and messages to be sent.

While Zeus’ son took to himself the task of traveling to Midgard in order to make the announcement to the bride’s family, the other messengers were sent to the Heavens, to deliver the invitation to the groom’s youngest brother and his family; to the depths of the Seas, where his other brother saw his predictions about being requested in Valhalla in a few months turn into reality; and to the Underworld, where the god of Conquest received the news with enthusiasm: the growth of his family and the birth of a goddess were things that he hasn’t seen in ages. The pantheons that were in good terms with Greece were also invited, of course, and the preparations for the next great festivity inside each of them started immediately after the messengers’ departure.

In a way that would only surprise people who knew nothing about human beings, the human girls were the first to know about the wedding, and they wasted no time in coming to congratulate you and cheer up with the perspective of a new party in Valhalla: this wasn’t something that happened every year, so they were right in considering themselves lucky. The ones with whom you had a closer friendship asked you about your feelings towards marriage and if you were nervous about the idea of leaving humanity behind, and even if you already knew what type of goddess you would be, but there wasn’t really much you could answer: since you were never married before, you still didn’t know how you were supposed to feel, and the same could be said about the ritual and the events would follow it; about being a goddess, Hades told you that your purpose would become clear to you after your transformation, but some of your current passions, interests and personality traits could influence in the process, so it was too soon to have a definitive answer in this sense.

To be honest, you were more anxious about your role as a Queen than about being given divine powers: by the studying sessions you’ve had the last months, you were aware that working as a governor was a great responsibility, and you felt anything but prepared for it. You already talked about this to Hades, who tranquilized you, stating that you would be by his side for all the time you needed; you always tried to focus on this, but sometimes your anxiety would take the best from you, and thinking about the future was the last thing you wanted.

***

The greenish stem of the narcissus grew out of the little amount of soil seconds after you poured some drops of the mixture you just created, and your eyes widened with the vision. It’s been several days since you started experimenting with flowers, but Valhalla’s technology didn’t cease to impress you: countless possibilities of creating new species that would grow before your eyes with the most exuberant colors and shapes were a dream coming true; it was the perfect type of work, according to your standards, being a fusion of observation, study, creativity and sensibility, with endless paths to explore and beauties to discover.

The first leaves appeared all over the stem and on the upper side of it, making you hold your breath. It was almost there; you were sure you had the correct amount of substances united this time, so now the petals should have the desired shade.

The first petal appeared among them, followed by the others…

And then you had a purplish, iridescent flower, just like all the others you already had around you.

You sighed, disappointed. Yes, you loved the garden you ended up creating on that corner of the Greenhouse, and you loved the flower you just planted as well, but you felt you would have loved it more if you finally got the shade you’ve been trying to create since the last month: a celestial, vibrant blue, just like the blue that overcame the skies after the twilight and preceded the black of the night during summers in your homeland. You’ve been trying many things to create a variation of the species with such color, but the farthest you got was to create a purple flower.

You went to your notebook, opened on the table, and started revising your notes.

– These are the most beautiful mistakes you’ve ever made, little one.

You startled, then smiled, closing your notes and turning to Hades, who just crossed the room’s entry and was now touching the flowers that hanged upon it. He was aware of your incessant attempts to create the blue narcissus, and has been following your work from close, so he knew you were far from the results you wanted; still, he never ceased to admire your creations, seeing them as works of art, or beautiful mistakes, as he liked to say.

He approached the table as you leaned on it, crossing your arms and leaving the newest flower at sight.

– And what about this one? – you indicated it with a look.

His response was to touch the purple petals with his fingertips the same way he used to do with your hair, admiring the variations on its surface, created by the light that entered through the transparent walls, filtered by the leaves of the trees and ivy that surrounded the place, among which many of your own flowers spread.

– It might sound as a common place – he started �� But this one surpasses all the others. How did you make it?

You showed your notes to him.

– I don’t understand what’s going on – you complained, observing the flower while he looked through the text – I’ve been calculating everything so carefully, yet it seems impossible to reach the exact shade of blue I want. I need to make the green undertone more prominent, but the red one just won’t decrease, no matter how much I work on it...

Hades spent a moment in silence, alternating his gaze between the notes and the flower. He has been the one who encouraged you most in this project, not letting you give up every time an unexpected color appeared on the petals and praising the results you’ve managed to reach, even when they weren’t exactly what you wanted; as a request made by you, however, he never interfered in the process, whether using his powers or giving you the subtlest instructions.

When he finally returned you the notebook, you thought he would give you some advice, but his response was to smile while observing the narcissus with a mysterious gaze.

You were the one who restarted the conversation.

– So… what do you think?

He took a moment to reply.

– I think your progress is something impressive, even for our standards – he touched the flower one more time; and, looking at his surroundings, – You just built an entire garden of new variations of narcissus in a matter of weeks. It is just my opinion but, despite not reaching your goal, you have all the reasons to proud, my y/n.

You had this sensation that Hades found something on your notes – maybe the mistake you’ve been making or the reason, the element you were yet to add to your formula, but it was currently out of your possibilities – but instead of talking about it, he preferred to use his time to encourage you.

You sighed.

– It’s not that I don’t like what I’ve produced until now. I love all of this – you made a gesture with your hands, indicating your creations – I mean, who wouldn’t love to work on something that would be impossible in their own homeland? Still, being aware of your own limitations is tiring sometimes… even for us.

Hades turned his eyes to you in a curious manner; however, he didn’t share whatever important discovery he did at that very moment with you, suddenly changing the subject with no additional explanations.

– Will you come with me for a moment? – he offered his hand – There’s something I need you to see. Well, actually, it is a place I want to show you.

You looked all over your table and frowned.

– Right now? I’m a bit occupied…

– It won’t take too long, I promise – he assured you – You will be back to continue your experiments when you least expect. And in a lighter mood, I hope.

You surrendered, holding his hand with both of yours with a smile: maybe you really needed a break from your efforts.

– If you say so…

Hades gave one last look at the narcissus before taking you out of the Greenhouse.

– Not only this, but maybe we can even find a spot for these wonderful mistakes here.

***

Though Valhalla was a seemingly borderless place, you somehow thought you’ve already met any space where your people were allowed to step in, so when Hades said that he wanted you to meet a new place, you felt as curious as you haven’t been in a while.

However, when you noticed he was leading you to a zone you knew to be exclusive for the gods, your curiosity turned into suspicion.

You were now crossing a narrow path of white stones that led to a high building of the same shade, except for the golden decorations surrounding the columns and the frames of the windows; the building was located behind great golden gates that were opened at that moment. You didn’t take long to understand of kind of place it was.

You stopped midway, making your partner stop too.

– Wait, this is a lodge, right? – you frowned – Are you sure that I can enter it? I don’t want to cause any problems…

Hades showed no worries concerning your presence there. Letting go of your hand, he caressed the top of your head.

– You can enter as long as you have permission – he explained – There won’t be any problem as long as you stay with me.

After you crossed the gates and stopped in front of the building, he stretched his hand to the great doors, opening the way for you.

***

The place was more like an apartment than a room, for various reasons: first, it was larger than any other place you’ve visited at Valhalla; second, by the number of doors and openings on the walls visible when you entered the private sections, you supposed that there was a reasonable number of departments which use would go beyond the bed area.

The first thing you saw when you stepped into the chambers was what looked like a living room or a space dedicated to visitors. The walls, covered in a purple wallpaper with a sophisticated pattern representing flowers and almonds, were extremely high for a common room, at least the ones you were used to find in the houses of your acquaintances in Midgard; perhaps those ones were an example of what you would find at a noble residence. There were a sofa and two upholstered chairs with a shade similar to the one of the walls, and a small table was placed at the center. The decoration consisted in small statues that reminded you of the ones at the Gardens, vases and exotic flowers. The walls, by the way, were covered in oil paintings that represented episodes from the stories told by Hades, all of them made in aged gold.

You didn’t need any explanations to guess what kind of place was that.

So… he brought me here to show me the room where we will spend our honeymoon.

He closed the door behind you and stopped by your side, smiling at your silence and your widened eyes.

– If only you could see the glimmer in your eyes now, little one – he commented – I feel like I should have introduced you to this place earlier.

You felt your cheeks getting warm and smiled.

– So… This is where you’ve been hiding for all this time? – and, looking around, – It’s quite comfortable.

He laughed.

– Actually, I’ve been using a different apartment, closer to Hermes’ chambers. It made it easier to approach you, since this building here is isolated.

You were staring at the flowers while he spoke, and didn’t take long to notice they were natural. You turned to him with a mixture of diversion and suspicion.

– Still, you’ve been here before taking me with you, right? – you pointed at the flowers – Otherwise, who’s been taking care of these flowers for you?

Hades pretended to be surprised for a second before start laughing.

– Loki was right when he said it was impossible to lie to you, then – he passed an arm around your waist and caressed your face – But let me tell you that this time you’re mistaken. These plants had their structure modified in order to increase their lifespan, so that they’ve been here for quite some time, being maintained with little effort from the elves’ part.

You shrugged.

– Really?

He nodded.

– Really. Now, allow me to show you the rest.

At the back of that room, at the same direction of the entry, there was a pair of doors of the same material of the first ones. Hades took you by the hand to them, then opened them both with a push of his free palm.

***

The bedroom had each corner built in art, beauty and exuberance.

The walls were covered in a softer version of the wallpaper you found at the living room, creating the sensation that the room was larger; the ceiling, just like the one of a church, had a Classic oil painting that would spread throughout its extension, exhibiting peaceful scenes of nature and mundane life.

At the center of the place, you saw the largest bed your imagination could conceive, with big pillows and cushions, covered with rosy, satin sheets. Above the upholstered headboard, there was an enormous tapestry which borders were sewn in golden threads, but it was the image depicted in the fabric that enchanted you: a garden that reminded you of the ones prepared for humans at Valhalla, full of fruit trees and lush grass; in a clearing formed among those trees, there was a group of nymphs on barefoot, with white dresses and flower crowns on their heads, holding hands to form a circle, dancing while the winds would blow in their wild hair (one of them even lost her crown, but didn’t mind stopping the dance to get it back); at the picture’s left, in the background, there was a faun sitting on a rock, dangling his hairy legs and playing a syrinx while birds and other small animals surrounded him. Framing this tapestry, there was a pair of curtains, opened and wrapped with golden threads on each side of the bed; they were connected to a woody structure that formed a sort of canopy. In front of the bed, there was an arc of bronze following the bed’s width, and under it a heavy carpet.

At your right, there was a pair of rosy doors that would lead to a balcony, while at your left you saw a few doors that you supposed to take the visitor to bathrooms, a kitchen or other essential departments. You looked around, searching for any source of artificial light, but couldn’t find any lamps; instead you saw candle holders at each wall.

Everything was clean, well built, luxurious… and a bit outdated.

Your silence might have caused a bit of discomfort, because Hades turned to you and politely asked for a verbal response.

– So… what do you think?

You looked at him, opened your mouth and closed it again.

Heavens, how am I going to tell him that, despite being beautiful, this place looks like it’s been closed since the Middle Ages?

You didn’t want to hurt your lover’s feelings, of course, but you had to be honest. You decided to examine the territory.

– Of course I loved it, and I’m flattered that you brought me here in anticipation but... let me ask you… – you bit your lip – When was the last time you used these chambers?

Hades crossed his arms and took a moment trying to remember, and the answer he gave you was, at the same time, the type of thing you were expecting and the last thing you could imagine.

– Hm… a few years ago, in an emergency, when I, my brother Zeus, Shiva and Odin had to travel here and solve an issue involving the human Nostradamus and the Bifrost.

You stared at him for a while, not hiding your surprise. A few years ago, he was saying?

– Nostradamus? You mean, that man Nostradamus, who lived centuries ago?

– Yes.

– Well…

When he finally understood, he started to laugh, passing his arms around you.

– Of course, we can redecorate it with something… modern, little one – he kissed your cheek – We will do anything that brings comfort in this important moment.

– I apologize if it looks like I’m calling you an old man – you laughed in embarrassment – It’s just that… time runs faster for us.

He looked around, letting out a nostalgic sigh.

– I see – and, suddenly changing the subject, – So, if this is the case, hurry up, because there’s something you need to see right now.

With a cheerful smile, Hades took you by the hand through the balcony’s door before you could say anything in response.

The balcony wasn’t really large, and it was structured in delicacy and elegance: the parapet was built in white marble, with Spring concepts carved in the stone; at your right, you saw a small table and two chairs, and upon it a tiny, empty vase, while at your left there was a narrow spiral staircase leading upwards. You were taken through it by the hand, and when you finally reached the upper floor, your eyes widened.

A private garden was built there, as a smaller version of the Secret Garden, where you’ve lived the most important moments of your relationship until that day. There were statues of beautiful heroes and damsels, as well as others representing forest creatures and animals, and benches near them; there were fruit trees which height was probably modified in the Greenhouse in order to fit that space, something that worked perfectly as far as you could see; in the center of the garden, there was a fountain where the birds would bathe and drink water, and they all flied when you approached them, splashing drops at all directions and making you laugh. The floor was of reddish, rectangular blocks made of stone, and it formed a labyrinth of narrow paths that led to each corner of the garden, so that every of those beauties would be at your hands’ reach.

However, you couldn’t help noticing that there were some empty vases here and there, as well as spaces on the grass that could be used to grow new plants. You turned to Hades and questioned him about this.

– Do you remember when I said we could find a spot for your wonderful mistakes?

You opened your mouth in surprise. So this was what he had in mind?

– This soil is prepared to receive every new species created in the Greenhouse – he explained – So your flowers will never feel abandoned when we bring them here. Even after our departure to Hellheim.

You frowned, worried.

– So... they will stay here?

– The elves will take care of them, so you don’t need to worry – he smiled – Besides… who told you that you will never return to Valhalla?

– But I thought…

– Yes, travels from Hellheim to Valhalla have been rare, with important events and crisis being the exceptions. But this is while I lived alone – Hades caressed your hair – Now, with a beloved wife by my side, changes in this sense are expected.

Your cheeks warmed up. Being called like that, even when you were still human and not married, made your heart skip. You wrapped your arms around your lover and laid your head on his chest, trying to find out if the same happened to his heart as well.

– Thank you for everything – you whispered – Thank you for your love.

– No – he replied – Thank you for your love.

***

The conversation that took place when you walked down the stairs and went back at the balcony was one that you knew you should have, sooner or later; well, actually you’ve been trying to find an opportunity to have it the last days, but no appropriate moment came. Now that you were at the very place where you should become a married woman, you understood that the time you’ve been waiting for has finally come.

While you stopped at the parapet to appreciate the landscape, your deliberations didn’t go unnoticed by Hades.

– Is it just me or have you been a bit nervous since you came here? – he started; and with a playful smile, – Is there something bothering you besides the decoration?

You giggled.

– I don’t know if bothering is the best word for this, but… Yes, there’s something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you for days – you took his hands on yours – You know, I’ve already told you that I’ve been in a few relationships, but all of them were too brief, so that they didn’t develop into something more… serious, intimate.

It didn’t take long for him to understand.

– Are you telling me that you’ve never been touched?

A heat came up to your face at those words: though you had no restraints in your communication, it still had a strange impact to hear him speak straight about this.

You nodded in confirmation.

– You’re the first person with whom I’ve got this far in a relationship, so… Yes, you will be my first.

Hades brushed your hair behind your ear.

– So, not being experienced makes you afraid? But what exactly do you fear?

You sighed.

– I fear that I end up not knowing how to… behave… That I feel uncomfortable... and mess up everything... and look ridiculous... and disappoint you…

Holding your face with both hands, his response was to give you a long kiss on your forehead.

– If these are the things you fear, then let’s not allow them to happen – he replied – When the time comes and you sense them approaching, just tell me, and we will take care of them together. Sounds good for you?

– Sounds perfect – you smiled, putting your hands upon his – Thank you for understanding.

– And thank you for sharing this with me, my y/n – he sighed – Since you decided to speak about this… There’s something I’d like to share with you too.

– Really? And what is it?

That time, Hades was the one who showed hesitation in his manners.

– It’s been a while… Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship. Before I met you, I’ve already forgotten how it felt like – he lowered his tone – Besides, I’ve never touched a human being, so, in a certain way, it will be a first time for me too.

That revelation changed the entire way you saw him. By the stories you’ve always heard about the gods and their interactions with humans, you knew that romantic and sexual relationships between the two species – which many times resulted in the birth of beings called demigods – was a common place, so the possibility of it not being the case with the King of the Underworld was something that never occurred to you. But now that you thought of it, it made sense: he has been living in a domain to where your people would only go after dying, and rarely left it without good reasons; besides, by what he told you about his family life, it was implied that he has been so busy with the matters involving his brothers that his personal life was left aside for what might be equal to ages. Indeed, there never seemed to be room for humans in his life before – which meant that having his private life back in the company of a human girl might have sounded like an intense, even scary experience to him.

– So – you started – Does this make you nervous?

– I bit… I think.

The blush you noticed on his cheeks made you smile.

In an imitation of Hades’ gesture, you brought you hands to his face, then stood on tip toes to reach his lips with yours: that was your time to assure him.

– If this will be a first time for both of us, let’s take care of it together – you whispered – Sounds good for you?

He laughed at this: seeing you use his words against him was just too funny.

So he decided to join the game.

– Sounds perfect.

Part XVII

[loiladadiani]

Photographs: 1. Grand Duke Mikhail Nicholayevich and his wife, Grand Duchess Olga Fyodorovna, with their two eldest children, Grand Duke Nicholas Mikhailovich and Grand Duchess Anastasia Mikhailovna; 2 and 3: Anastasia as a young girl; 4 and 5: Anastasia as a young woman. In one of the photos, she is wearing Russian court dress; 6. Anastasia with her brother Grand Duke Mikhail Mikhailovich (Miche-Miche); 7. Anastasia with her brother Grand Duke Georgiy Mikhailovich; 8. Anastasia with her brother Grand Duke Sergei Mikhailovichl 9. Anastasia with her youngest brother, who died at twenty, Grand Duke Alexis Mikhailovich; 10. Anastasia with her brother Grand Duke Alexander "Sandro" Mikhailovich; 11. Anastasia with her niece Princess Irina Alexandrovna; 12 and 13; Two photos of Anastasia with her fiancee/husband Grand Duke Frederick Francis III of Mecklenburg-Schwerin; 14. Anastasia with her three children; 15 and 16: Two pictures of Anastasia; 17: Anastasia's three children and their spouses: From left to right: Her daughter Alexandrine of Mecklenburg-Schwerin with the future King Christian X of Denmark, Her son, Frederick Francis IV with Alexandra of Hanover and Cumberland, and her daughter Cecilie of Mecklenburg-Schwerin with Crown Prince Wilhelm; 18. Her illegitimate son Alexis Louis de Wenden; 19: Villa Wenden in Nice; 20. The formidable Grand Duchess Anastasia Mikhailovna.

The other Anastaisa

Grand Duchess Anastasia Mikhailovna was born in 1860, the second child and only daughter of Grand Duke Mikhail Nicholaevich and Grand Duchess Olga Feodorovna (nee Princess Cecilie of Baden.) Anastasia was a granddaughter of Nicholas I. The better-known Anastasia (the daughter of Nicholas II) would be born a little over a half-century later, promising to be just as indomitable as her predecessor (she did not have the chance to fulfill that promise.)

Stasi (as her brothers called Anastasia Mikhailovna) was her father's favorite child. Her brothers worshipped her. Her mother was the disciplinarian of the house. The boys were allowed to see their sister only on Sundays.

Anastasia married Frederick Francis III, Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, at 19. Frederick Francis was Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna, the Elder's brother. He had very poor health throughout his life; he had asthma and multiple allergies and rashes, and he needed to live during extended periods in the warmer climate of the Mediterranean rather than in Northern Europe; this was just fine with Anastasia, who would never adjust to her adoptive country or gain the affection of the people there. The couple established Villa Wenden in the South of France, and she would live in that area of the world most of her life. Frederick's homosexuality was known throughout Europe, but the couple seemed to have gotten along well. Anastasia spent lavishly at the casinos, and Frederick Francis was glad to provide her with the funds. When the Grand Duke died, she said: "On this day, I have lost my best friend."

They had three children, and all married very well:

Duchess Alexandrine of Mecklenburg-Schwerin (1879 –1952); married King Christian X of Denmark. They had two sons.

Frederick Francis IV, Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin (1882 –1945), married Princess Alexandra of Hanover and Cumberland. They had five children.

Duchess Cecilie of Mecklenburg-Schwerin (1886 –1954.) She married Wilhelm, the German Crown Prince. They had six children.

Up to the death of her husband, Anastasia's life had transcurred without scandal. However, a few years later, she began an affair with Vladimir Alexandrovitch Paltov, her secretary. She soon became pregnant by him and attempted to hide that fact by claiming she was suffering from a tumor. She claimed to have chickenpox when she delivered the child. Her son, Alexis Louis de Wenden, was born in Nice in 1902. She was able to bring him up herself and wrote to him daily when he was away at school. After the scandal became public, she was advised never to live near her daughter, now the Crown Princess of Germany (she was given special permission to visit her daughter for the birth of her first grandson.)

After her father had a stroke, he went to live with Stasi in Villa Wenden. As the senior member of the Romanov clan, "Uncle Misha" received many visitors, including the Tsar. At least one of her brothers was in residence at Villa Wenden at any given time. When her father died in 1909, Anastasia inherited an enormous fortune. She continued to live as she wished, gambling heavily, going to the theater, and dancing.

World War I split the family apart. Her son was the reigning Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, her daughter was the German Emperor's daughter-in-law, she was a Russian Grand Duchess, and her Russian family was fighting on the opposite side. She settled in neutral Switzerland. The war cost her son and daughter their (prospective) crowns. After the war, she returned to Nice. There she founded a charity to help Russian exiles. Vladimir Paltov was the charity's president, perhaps indicating that the relationship continued. She lived in Villa Fantasia in Eze, which is near Cannes.

Anastasia died suddenly after suffering a stroke in 1922. She rests in Ludwigslust next to her husband. All of her children have living descendants today, including her illegitimate son. She certainly lived as she wished. Which is something that the other Anastasia would have probably done should she have been given the chance.

[the-vex-archives]

The Walking Dead Masterlist (2024)

General

Oneshots

"See? Harmless,"

@fanficimagery

Imagine the world being overrun by the walking dead. Surviving in this new world is literal Hell on Earth, so imagine your surprise when you find a little girl all alone and doing her best to stay alive.

"What's so funny, bitch?"

@fanficimagery

Imagine being a mutual friend of Negan and Rick. After one of their pissing contests when Negan can't find you, he asks Rick if you're with them. You're not.. and it makes the both of them nervous. And angry at what your disappearance could possibly mean.

Daryl Dixon

Fics

"Spitting Image" Part 2

@deansapplepie

Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.

"Broken Trust" Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Final Part

@sourwolf-sterek32

Y/N Walsh meets Daryl Dixon while working as an undercover Police Officer. But, when Daryl finds out the truth about you, you’re forced to move back to King County.

"Suicide Mission" Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Final Part

@sourwolf-sterek32

Before the whole world turned to shit, you lived next door to the Dixon’s. You grew close to the Dixon brothers over the years. You and Daryl quickly becoming best friend, despite your massive crush on him, (which at the time, you didn’t know he returned).

You weren’t with him when the outbreak started, but against all odds you managed to find him while helping a random group of strangers on the road. It seemed like fate always found a way, even during the apocalypse.

"You're Not Alone Pt. 1" Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Final Part

@sourwolf-sterek32

You’ve been on your own for 8 months now after your brother died. Scavenging and hunting, using the skills your father taught you to stay alive. Until you came across a little girl lost in the woods. You were determined to get her back to her mother, but once you found her group everything changed and you found yourself falling for the blue eyed archer without realizing it

"You're Not Alone Pt. 2" Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Final Part

@sourwolf-sterek32

The reader and Daryl have started to settle into life at Alexandria, but once the group runs into the Saviours and more specifically Negan, your way of life as you know it will change forever. While the universe seems to be set on pulling you and Daryl apart, how far are you willing to go to get back to each other and make things right?

"Hurt" Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Final Part

@sourwolf-sterek32

You learnt very early that it wasn’t the dead you should fear, it was the living, especially the Saviours. It’s been six months since you managed to escape the Sanctuary with a little girl called Clementine. The two of you finding your old family farm, away from humanity. That was until you found a man named Daryl Dixon trying to hotwire one of your trucks.

Oneshots

"Unexpected" (werewolf! Daryl Dixon)

@lazyneonrabbitt

No summary provided

"The Step-Mother" ( x Sister! Reader ) ( x Rick Grimes )

@hannibals-favourite-meal

The Dixons were an odd bunch, an asshole older brother, the quiet and noble middle child, and the youngest, a beautiful young woman with the heart of a lion. Rick can’t help but fall for her even in the middle of an apocalypse.

"Her Poor Cat" ( x Plus Size! Reader ) ( x Rick Grimes )

@hannibals-favourite-meal

Rick/reader/Daryl are a throuple and the Alexandria residents don’t know how to react.

"Motherly Instinct"

@cultofdixon

No summary provided

Incorrect Quotes

"Happy New Years"

@cultofdixon

Rick Grimes

Fics

"Take on The World" Part 2

@fanficimagery

No summary provided

Oneshots

"We Meet Again"

@mylittlefandomfanfictions

You had been in Alexandria for almost a year now and after being outside the walls since the beginning this was the safest place you had been. There was only one thing that could make it even better, your son Carl. He had been staying with his step-mother Lori and visiting his father in the hospital when the world ended and you prayed that they had survived.

"The Step-Mother" ( x Dixon! Reader )

@hannibals-favourite-meal

The Dixons were an odd bunch, an asshole older brother, the quiet and noble middle child, and the youngest, a beautiful young woman with the heart of a lion. Rick can’t help but fall for her even in the middle of an apocalypse.

"Her Poor Cat" ( x Plus Size! Reader ) ( x Daryl Dixon )

@hannibals-favourite-meal

Rick/reader/Daryl are a throuple and the Alexandria residents don’t know how to react.

"I thought you were dead." ( x Negan's Sister! Reader )

@fanficimagery

Imagine finding romance after the world has ended. You and Rick saved one another in such tough times, and finding out your brother is still alive throws a wrench into the new life you’ve made for yourself.

Carl Grimes

Oneshots

"The Step-Mother" ( x Platonic! Stepmom! Dixon! Reader )

@hannibals-favourite-meal

The Dixons were an odd bunch, an asshole older brother, the quiet and noble middle child, and the youngest, a beautiful young woman with the heart of a lion. Rick can’t help but fall for her even in the middle of an apocalypse.

Negan Smith

Fics

"I'm just feeling a bit cooped up," Part 2

@fanficimagery

Imagine being a Savior. The world has gone to shit and while you understand the good kind of people are suspicious of other individuals- especially the individuals who've grown rather adept at surviving on their own- you're more than a little hurt that several communities have turned you away. So when Negan takes you in, your loyalty lies with those he calls his own.

Oneshots

"I thought you were dead." ( x Sister! Reader )

@fanficimagery

Imagine finding romance after the world has ended. You and Rick saved one another in such tough times, and finding out your brother is still alive throws a wrench into the new life you’ve made for yourself.

[mt-musings]

The Last Silverboughs

Halsin struggles to put his past to rest, but it's haunting him in more ways than he realizes. He'd thought his time in the Underdark was long behind him, an unpleasant pitfall of youthful hubris, but remnants of his captivity remain, the youngest of which unwittingly stumbles to his rescue.

Lythra can't stop running from her past--hasn't, since she managed to make it out of the Underdark. She has no love for Menzoberranzan, or her House, or anything she left behind in the dark. Or nearly anything.

Still, she'd rather die than return--a prospect all the more likely with a tadpole jammed behind her eye. But perhaps, with the help of a renown druidic healer, she can go back to what remains of her half-life in the sun.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Read on AO3

“This is worrying, little one,” Halsin said as he peered into her eyes, her ears. She’d cleaned the black blood away before returning to camp, not with Astarion’s delicate embroidered handkerchief, but by jumping fully clothed into the lake, a decision which she regretted once she started plodding back, streaming freezing water. 

“It’s fine, Halsin,” she said, now clad in warm, spare clothes. “It’s not bad, really.”

He just stared at her, giving her a look. 

“Okay, it’s a little bad. But it’s manageable—it’ll get better with exposure. I’ll get a handle on it.”

“Is this something you know from experience?”

She nodded, thinking of her time in the Labyrinth, where she because a slave to the magic. It drained her, but it didn’t knock her flat, not each time. He sighed, sadness heavy in his hazel eyes and sunk another healing spell into her. She did her best not to flinch, but it stung, something fierce. 

Halsin opened his mouth to say something about her too-obvious discomfort, but she cut him off.

“They found a Fist wondering in the woods, mostly unharmed, but they haven’t been able to wake him up. He talks, though, in his sleep. He keeps singing a song, about ‘Thaniel and me.’”

Halsin’s eyes widened. “Are you sure he said Thaniel?”

“Yeah, he kept singing it.”

“Where is he?”

“In the inn. I can take you.”

“You should rest.”

“I have to grab a few supplies, anyway.”

Halsin looked like he wanted to argue, but nodded. She smiled at him. 

“Were you here, the last time?” She asked as they walked.

“It was a base for the resistance then, too. Harpers and druids. Now, just—“ he broke off with a sigh, looking away. Her stomach sank. How many had he lost here? To be back in the same place, with no change--

“There’s another druid here. Jaheira. She was here last time too. Karlach says she’s a big hero in Baldur’s Gate,” she said, hoping to steer the conversation to less painful topics.

“Jaheira is here?” he asked, recognition flashing across his face.

“You know her?”

“Only by reputation. Our paths didn’t cross on the battlefield, but she is a formidable ally. We are luckier than I thought.”

“She’s still making her mind up about us, but I like her. She’s funny.”

“The hero of not one, but two Bhaalsawn crises, but you like her because she's funny?”

She shrugged. She hadn’t a clue about any of the Bhaalspawn crises, other than the fact that Bhaalspawn were bad, bad news. He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. 

“If you find Thaniel, will it cure the Curse?” She asked. His smile turned sad.

“I think so. It has been long since I saw him last. He is my oldest friend. We played together as children, but as I grew—he never did.”

“Like a fey spirit?” She asked, thinking of the little boy in the dilapidated cottage. 

“Sort of,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “He is the spirit of the land. It’s a little different.”

“Oh,” she said, nodding. “Does he have two different colored eyes? And red skin?”

“N-no. Why?” Halsin asked, brow furrowed.

“No reason. I didn't think so, I just wanted to check. Art’s through here. Maybe they woke him up since last I was here,” she said, avoiding his piercing gaze. She lead him into the infirmary and to the bed where the Fist lay, still murmuring to himself. Halsin immediately crossed to his side, speaking with the healer’s who’d been working on him.

She slipped away while he oriented himself, knowing he wouldn’t be back at camp until Art woke. She was unsettled to find that she'd miss him.

~~~

Lythra crept out of camp well before anyone woke, shoving a handful of apples into her pockets. She brought the sword again, setting it to sing, and followed the path back to the cottage. The shadows were more insistent this time, like a physical weight bearing down on her, pushing her into the dirt, making her fight for each breath. Still, she kept walking until she reached the house again.

“Hello! I brought more apples,” she called, pulling one of them from her pocket. She saw the little boy stick his head out of the house, peering at her.

“It’s you! You came back!” He said, running to her side and snatching the apple.

“I did. I said I would, remember?”

“Lots of people say they’ll come back, but they just leave,” he said, bitterly. 

“Sometimes,” she replied, knowing the truth of his words. 

“But you came back. I bet you missed me!”

“I did,” she said with a smile. She was surprised that she meant it, especially after he'd sort of tried to kill her. “You never did tell me your name.”

“It’s Oliver. But you can call me Ollie, if you want.”

“That’s a nice name.”

“What’s your name?”

“Lythra,” she said, knowing that if he was fey, it wasn't enough of an answer to steal it. 

“That’s a weird name,” he said, wrinkling his nose. Then he caught himself. “I guess it’s okay though.”

“I’m a little weird, so it fits.”

“Is that why you have a singing sword?”

“Probably.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“I had to pull it out of a rock, underground.”

“You’re right, you are weird,” Oliver said, though this time he looked delighted by it. She felt blood start to run out of her nose. She got up quickly, wiping it away.

“Are you sick?” Oliver asked. She nodded. He narrowed his eyes.

“Are you going to die?”

“It’s possible. Probable, even,” she replied. “Dunno when though.”

“It better not be soon. I’ll be cross with you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Ollie.”

“You—you’ll come back, right?”

“When I can.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“Alright then,” he said sulkily. She ruffled his hair, stuffing her last apple into his hands before setting off back down the path.

~~~

Astarion ducked his head out of his tent to find Lythra setting his handkerchief on the stool outside. It was folded and freshly laundered without a trace of the scent of her blood. 

“Oh—I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, instead just handing it to him. He frowned. 

“You didn’t—you didn’t have to return it.”

“It’s clean, I made sure.”

“That’s not what I meant! I just—you didn’t have to go to the trouble. You could have thrown it out."

She looked at him like he was stupid. “It’s nice. You don’t throw out nice things.”

“It’s just a handkerchief.”

“It’s got pretty little flowers on it, and…” she trailed off gesturing at the idle poetry he’d embroidered along the border. “It doesn’t matter. Throw it out if you don’t want it, but I’m not going to waste it.”

She turned and walked off, towards where Withers had camped out. He was rather sure she was the only one who bothered talking to him with any frequency. 

He looked down at the handkerchief, thumb ghosting over the roses he’d embroidered in the corners, the carefully stitched edging. 

Lythra didn’t have pretty things. She barely had things. He hadn’t even been nice to her, when he’d given it to her, and she’d returned it neatly folded because it was nice. 

She didn’t even know that he’d been the one to spend hours decorating it. 

He stared at it for a long time before carefully putting it back in his pocket.

~~~

“Oh—by the Hells,” Lythra hissed as she spotted the Absolute party making their way down towards the ambush sight. She made cursory note of the party—mostly goblins and orcs, but her attention focused on the apparent leader, a massive, pallid drider. 

“Old friend?” Astarion asked, and she didn’t need to turn to know he was wearing a cruel little smirk.

“Vith tir,” she spat back, trying to tamp down her disgust. Her mother had kept a pet drider, a particularly cruel bastard called Omareth. His vemon kept her stupid and slow and made her mother’s work that much easier. 

She didn’t know what had happened to him, during the demon assault of the city.

She hoped he died, screaming.

This one would too, if she had anything to say about it. 

It was a proper lunatic, judging by the way it spoke to itself as it lead the party. Of course, most drider were—few suffered Lolth’s direct displeasure and came out whole. Failed fanatics—and it sounded like this one had found a new queen. 

She stepped out from her hiding spot, holding up a hand for the others to wait. 

“What is this?” The drider asked, coming to an abrupt halt in the path. She felt his mind brush against hers, fractured and twisted. She almost felt bad for such a broken thing.

“You blessed them too, my Queen? Where is their lantern?”

“I need no lantern. My faith is strong, drider. I have failed no false-gods.”

He snarled at her, bearing his teeth. She only smiled and outstretched her hands stepping further into the shadows. The words came easy, the temptation familiar, the ending always the same—ruin.

“Do you believe in Her?” She asked, voice serene, promising rapture.

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you trust in her?”

“With my whole heart.”

“Then the Shadows cannot harm you. Not if you truly believe. Or are you afraid to test your faith? Will you fail her, like you failed your first queen?”

“Never,” he snarled, fury rippling off of him. She smiled wider.

“Then set your lantern down, drider. Prove your faith and see the glory of Her reward. There is nothing to fear, for the faithful. Join me, in Her favor and you shall be exalted.”

“But, the lantern—“

“Is your faith in the lantern, or your Queen? Perhaps I have misjudged your conviction. Perhaps you are not worthy.”

“I am! I am worthy!”

“Set down the lantern. Join me, in the protection of her love. Prove your devotion as only the faithful can.”

She watched as he slowly set down the lantern, taking a hesitant step forward. The orc behind him balked.

“You can’t be serious! The Shadows will tear us apart!”

“What a frightened, faithless thing. Do you dare bring disbelievers to Her Majesty?” Lythra said, aghast and furious, her attention solely on the mad drider. “You would shepherd such filth to the mantle of your Queen’s protection? You would disgrace Her so?”

“No—never! Never, Your Majesty!” He cried, turning towards the orc who had spoken up. The drider drew a long sword and jammed it through his throat, faster than the orc could react. He watched as he died, slowly, gurgling on his own blood before turning back to her.

“I bring no disbelievers. I am her faithful servant,” he said with fervent fury. She smiled.

“You are glorious. Walk in her grace. Join me,” she said, breathing the last two words like a siren’s call. 

“She will protect us. She—She must,” he said, taking another step forward, then another. He kept walking with his little party and she kept smiling and  stepping back, leading them further into darkness. 

She watched and the Curse began to take root, as it began tearing into them. They screamed and the drider begged the Absolute to save him. She slipped away, in the darkness, leaving them to their fate. 

There would be no rescue. The gods didn’t care if you begged. 

She knew that all too well.

She returned to the collapsing house feeling blood running from her ears, the Harpers and her companions flooding out, grinning at their easy victory. Astarion watched her with wide, wary eyes, even with his cruel little smile.

“I never would have believed that, had I not seen it with my own eyes,” Harper Branches said, grinning. “Nicely done! We’ll see you back at Moonrise.”

He and the other Harpers disappeared back the way they came.

Lythra crossed to the lantern and picked it up. There was no warmth in its light. No, there was something in it, something fluttering. She leaned closed, examining it. 

It was a pixie. A tiny, fluttering pixie locked inside, being prodded with spikes. 

Her heart clenched. 

“Oh please, oh golly, oh me, oh my! You must release me or I will die!” She cried from inside. “This lantern only lights the way when I am hurting night and day!”

Lythra fiddled with the lock without thought, carefully clicking it open.

“What do you think you’re doing! That’s the only thing that’s going to keep the Shadows from tearing us to bits before we get to Moonrise!” Astarion snarled. She glared at him.

“You’d rather keep her locked in a cage until she dies?” She shot back. She opened the lantern before he could reply, the pixie wizzing out. She stared at it in wonder.

“Finally! Been trapped in that coffin with only a mad drider and my own farts for company!” She cried, whirring in a corkscrew. Then she flutter back to face Lythra. “Did me a good turn there, didn’t you? What do I owe you?”

“Could you help us through the Shadow Curse?” She asked.

“Sure I can, but will I? Yes, sure why not! Here, give this bell a shake, speak the magic words, and you’ll get what you’ve earned. Protection from the Shadow Curse. What more could a dingus want?” The pixie said, giving her a little silver bell. 

“Thank you,” she said, giving the bell a little rattle. 

“You’re welcome!” The pixie replied, speed off.

“A pixie! An honest to pixie,” Astarion said with a giggle. An actual giggle.

“That you wanted to leave locked in the lantern,” Lythra shot back.

“Well, I didn’t know she was a pixie. Or that she’d give us a way through the Shadow Curse now, did I? Not that you’d have to worry about it, since you’re perfectly at home in its rot.”

“I would have released her even if I wasn’t. Hardly anything deserves to rot in a cage like that,” she said, frowning at the lantern, at the cruel spikes inside. She smashed it hard into the side off the dilapidated house, shattering it into a thousand pieces before throwing the broken handle off to the side. 

No, hardly anything deserved a cage like that. 

~~~

Astarion walked to the far end of camp, where Lythra laid out her bedroll. He couldn’t get the sound of her voice out of his head, when she promised that drider exhalation. Those poisoned words fell so easily from her lips and she’d held herself with all the disposition of a true emissary of the divine.

For a moment he’d wondered if she believed it herself. 

She sat cross-legged by the water, running her worn whetstone over the blade of one of her daggers. Several others sat next to her, freshly sharpened. 

She looked up briefly before turning back to her work.

There were shadows under her eyes, her cheeks more hollow than ordinarily. The Curse, taking its toll. 

“You know,” Astarion said, settling down next to her on the ground. “That was quite the performance you gave back there. Not many people can say they’ve literally talked someone to death.”

“I bet you’ve tried,” she said dryly, setting aside the finished blade before flopping onto her back. He frowned, studying her face.

“You knew just what to say, what strings to pull. That's quite a talent.”

“It wasn’t hard. We grew up in the same evil cult. Religious freaks are all the same, as far as I can tell.”

“You play a rather convincing fanatic.”

“I grew up in Menzoberranzan. It’s sort of a requirement.”

He stared at her beneath furrowed brows. He thought that might have been the first time she’d voluntarily shared personal information since he’d met her. She gave him a look.

“What?”

“You never mentioned you grew up in Menzoberranzan.”

“You never asked.”

He hadn’t. He hardly asked her much of anything real. 

“Would you have told me, if I had?”

“Maybe. After you knew I was a drow.”

He nodded, laying back next to her. They lay in silence for a long time. Finally she turned, making a face.

“What do you want, Astarion?”

Gods. She was always asking him that. And half the time—now, half the time he didn’t even think he knew.

“Why do you always ask what I want?”

“Because you always want something. You wouldn’t come and talk to me if you didn’t.”

Is that what she thought? Well, he supposed she wasn’t exactly wrong, but it did sound so very ugly when she said it like that. 

“That’s not—I don’t want anything.”

“Nothing?”

“Just—just company, I suppose.”

She nodded, with a sigh. Then she got up, and walked off, towards the center of camp. He watched her go, a pang in his chest. Just as he was about to get up and slink off to his tent she returned, the lyre they’d looted from the drow in the goblin camp. She sat back, balancing the it in her lap. She began plucking out a song, eyes closed, her fingers lithe over the strings. 

It wasn’t perfect—the tempo slowed sometimes as she figured out the next section and sometimes she plucked a wrong string or two. Still, it was beautiful, in a haunting sort of way. And she looked at ease, as she played—so much so that he hadn’t noticed how much she scowled regularly, how tense her shoulders were, always pulled into her body as if to protect her. 

Was this who she was before the tadpole, before the nightmare began? A pale little drow content to be free of the Underdark and pluck out pretty tunes?

“Who taught you play?” He asked, sitting up.

“No one,” she said, still playing. “That’s why I’m shit. But it makes me feel like a person, so…”

He knew that feeling, all too well. Of hanging on to any thread of his humanity, any fiber of him left that wasn’t violence or seduction. It was why he’d started his silly little embroideries. 

“You’re not bad,” he said.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything? You’re being nice. It’s weird.”

“I can be nice!”

She stared back at him doubtfully.

“I can!” He said with no small amount of outrage. She laughed at him—actually laughed. He rather liked the sound. 

He would have liked it more if it wasn’t at his expense.  

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Luck is a Funny Thing - 2. Bated Breath

Notes: N/A

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x OC (later installments)

Warnings: Mentions of death/killing

Chantilly stood near the chariot for District 8, battling down her nerves and maintaining an unreadable expression as she casually observed the other tributes. Tanner, her district partner, stood few feet away. She had Woof and Cecelia as her mentors Tanner had the others. The victors of the 34th and 44th Games, neither as old as Woof, both still in great shape.

Chantilly wasn't sure if Tanner was relieved to not have Woof as his mentor or disappointed because the youngest of his mentors was nearly 40. Whereas Cecelia was only a few years older than Chantilly.

As the parade began and they waited their turns to be presented to the Capitol audience, Cecelia took mental notes of all the other costumes.

The District 1 tributes were draped in the most luxurious silks with the finest jewelry made of pure gold and decked in precious jewels that matched each tribute's eyes. Diamonds are woven into the tributes' hair and they're dusted in a golden sheen and with jewels in their lashes and nails.

The District 2 tributes were dressed in white marble tiles that formed into a Peacemaker uniform, helmet and visors included. The chariot was obsidian with gold waves and the horses were dappled.

The District 3 tributes were in deep green jumpsuits with gold and copper wires running in intricate patterns that both tributes pointed out did not reflect actual circuit boards. Both wore hair pieces that looked like microchips and had deep green eye shadow with gold flecks.

The District 4 tributes were in flowy outfits of light blue and white, and the horses and chariot were also designed similarly. The resulting effect made them appear as if they were sea spirits riding a cresting wave.

The District 5 tributes were dressed as lamps, complete with lightbulb headpieces. There was a strip of shiny material that made the lightbulb look lit.

The District 6 tributes were in tan-colored canvas pants, brown leather jackets, knee-high boots, scarves, and a leather headpiece that included goggles.

The District 7 tributes were once again dressed as trees. Only this time they looked like Magnolia trees blooming in spring and their chariot looked like a rolling hill.

The District 9 tributes were dressed in amber gold pieces that made them look like grain swaying in the breeze.

The District 10 tributes are both in dark leather dusters and hats with cowboy boots, gingham shirts, and cow-pattern pants for Raymundo with Miranda in a matching skirt. Raymundo's shirt is unbuttoned and his bolo tie is hanging loosely around his neck.

The District 11 tributes are dressed in colors and outfits that evoke different produce. Logan is dressed to actually look like a Loganberry bush. Thistle on the other hand looks like a grape vine with thistles painted on either arm.

The District 12 tributes as usual like coal miners but with decisive cuts in the outfits to show skin and leaving a lot of their bodies exposed.

As for District 8, the tributes were dressed in white mesh tops, black lace pants for Chantilly, and brown leather pants for Tanner. Tanner was wearing a red satin headpiece and Chantilly had a matching bow in her hair. Chantilly's lips, nails, and eyeshadow were deep red, and her eyes were sharply lined in black. Tanner was dusted in red and brown shimmer. They both had white lace gloves. Chantilly was draped in a red organza cape and Tanner had a brown felt long coat. Their chariot and horses were also draped in various textiles.

Chantilly mostly stared straight ahead, occasionally looking around to find one audience member and stare them straight in the eyes with an unreadable expression.

Each time the person would freeze, their eyes would widen and after a mere second, they'd look away from her. Each time Chantilly found it very amusing.

During training, Chantilly kept to herself. Sticking to survival skills, testing out athletic beams, and most importantly, observing the other tributes. She was keeping track of everyone's strengths, and weaknesses. Everything really.

Each day, she spoke only to Woof and Cecilia, going over her strategy. She wasn't charismatic and lovable like some of the other tributes but apparently, her icy cold stare scared people enough to want to support her. It was something she'd heard all her life, that her stare seemed to pierce right through you and weed out all your secrets and weaknesses. She wouldn't credit her eyes so much as her near-constant state of observation.

And she was going to use this to her advantage.

Then it was time for the private sessions. After her name was called, Chantilly stoically made her way to the center of the room and introduced herself. Her hands clasped loosely in front of her and her expression never changed.

"Selenite Herzog. Flexible, fast and amazing with distance weapons. But she's also arrogant, not particularly strong and like most Careers she has no survival skills." Chantilly spoke quickly, rattling off the facts of her opponent. A Gamemaker tried to interrupt her, probably to ask what she thought she was doing, but she didn't give him the chance. "I would use her arrogance against her and lure Selenite into a trap. I can guarantee she demonstrated her skills with a crossbow for you and was impressive enough to land a high score like 8 or 9."

The dumbfounded look on the Gamemakers' faces confirmed Chantilly's observations. After half a beat, Chantilly continued with her observations of all the other tributes of the games. Stating their names, strengths, weaknesses, what strategies she could use to kill them, making educated guesses as to what skills they demonstrated in their own private sessions and what score they probably landed or would land in the case of the later tributes.

She spoke quick enough to avoid running out of time but not so quick that the Gamemakers couldn't understand her. It was probably the most attention the Gamemakers paid to any tribute from District 8 in decades.

After she finished with Corbin from District 12, she merely took a breath and continued, "And finally, Chantilly Burnett. Remarkably observant, a skilled tactician with an aptitude for mind games. She's not made a single ally and probably won't have sponsors until they see her skills at work in the arena. But she's made an impression and as such you'll give her a good score."

With that said Chantilly merely stood there, moving her expressions just as stoic as ever. Staring down the Gamemakers. Finally, one shuddered and turned away. "Thank you, Miss Burnett. You're dismissed."

Chantilly turned on her heel and casually strolled to the elevator. She kept up the affect until she was back on her own floor where everyone was waiting with bated breath.

'Guess, we'll find out later if I impressed the Gamemakers or pissed them off.' She thought to herself with a smirk.

[scarisd3ad]

Found you [steve harrington x f!reader remake]

Chapter four

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- the vanishing of will byers -

The wheelers were definitely one of the more well off family's of hawkins. So if their oldest daughter refused to babysit her younger siblings, they were able to afford to pay a babysitter. That why I babysjt for them, they pay really good, and holly might be the cutest thing to grace this planet (but mostly because they pay good). I babysat every Sunday and Monday nights because Karen and Ted wheeler went out bowling on Saturday, and both went out with friends on Monday nights. Nancy didn't like babysitting and they didn't want to push her to so I did it. I had already known the family since Mike was a baby so I was probably the only one karen trusted with her two youngests.

I sat at the kitchen table with holly as she colored. Mike and his friends aka the party (they named theirselves I don't ask questions) were downstairs playing dnd. It was around 7:30 so I was about to start getting ready to put holly down at 7:45. "C'mon hol let's get ready for bed" I say. She pouts but subsequently pushes the coloring book, and pack of crayons my way. I stand up and walking around the table, and pick up holly. I walk up stairs with holly on my hip towards her bedroom. Karen had already put out her pjs and was going to bathe her in the morning so I didn't have to worry about that. I set her down as I push open her bedroom door. I spot the new 'big girl bed' set up already. Holly was 2 and her parents had just transitioned her from the old crib to a toddler bed. "You got you're big girl bed?" I asked as I grabbed her hand leading her towards her bed.

She nods shyly, as she grabs her pjs, and follows me towards the bathroom. She can change herself now so I stand by just incase she needs help as she changes. Once she's finished I pick her up and set her on the counter. I grab her toothbrush, and squeeze a bit of toothpaste ontop, before running it under the faucet. I hand it to her and she brushes her teeth as her toothbrush sings the abc's. Once she was done I hand her a cup of water so she could rinse. I rinse the toothbrush of before placing it with the others.

I picked her up, and take her back to her room. She yawns as she leans her head against my shoulder. "You tired?" I asked softly, she nodded before closing her eyes. I lay her down, tuck her in, and press a kiss to her forehead even though she already asleep. As I walk out out of the bedroom I turn the lights off.

I walk back into the kitchen to wash the dishes as I waited for it to be about time mikes bedtime. I can hear the boys shouting from down stairs. His bedtime is 15 minutes after 8 on school nights, and 15 after 9 on weekends. It was Sunday meaning it was a school night.

Once the clock hit 8:15 I walk over to the basement door swinging it open, the boys are all scrambling around looking for something "Mike!" He looked up from the bottom of the stairs "y/n, we're in the middle of a campaign!" He said. "You mean the end? Your mom said Fifteen after" I said pointing at my wrist before walking away. I can still here the boys shouting from down stairs as Mike follows me up.

"Y/n, wait, just 20 more minutes" he pleads as I leaned against the kitchen counter. "It's a school night micheal" I say bring out a full name, which means I'm serious. I don't want to get fired!

"I just put holly to bed. You can finish next weekend" I said as I continue to was the dishes I didn't do. "But that'll ruin the flow!" He argued. "Mike" I say with an eyeroll. "I'm serious, y/n. The campaign took 2 weeks to plan."

"How was I supposed to know it was going to take ten hours?" He asked his voice going quiet. My eyes widened "Mike! Ten hours?! You've been playing for ten hours?" I say absolutely flabbergasted. How can a bunch of 12 year olds sit around and play one game for 10 hours! He rolls his eyes but ends up going down stairs to tell his friends it's time to leave.

I watch as both Lucas, and will come up waving goodbye as the walk towards the door. Then dustin walks up with a box of pizza in hand. "You want this?" He asked. I shake my head "no but I'll go ask Nancy" I said taking the box from him. "I'll see you later bud" i say waving him off to leave.

I take the box up stairs. Nancy's door is semi closed not enough to see through but it was obvious cracked a bit. I push the door open beginning to say "hey nanc-" I see Nancy and Liam making out on her bed "oh my god" I whispered to myself and clamp my eyes shut. Both of their eyes are wide when I open my eyes. "Don't tell anyone y/n" Liam said. Steve didn't deserve this, I had to tell him. I couldn't just not tell him, right? "Y/n?" I blink a bit "yeah! Sure, sure" I say before closing the door and walking back down stairs. I was caught between a rock and a hard place. How am I not supposed to tell Steve, but also I just told Liam I wouldn't tell anyone.

This was just way too much information I learned all at once.

Bringgggg bringggg.

The phone brought me out of my heavy thought. I walk over and pick it up. "Hello?" I say quietly.

"Hey y/n, heard you were sitting for the wheelers and wanted to tell you I finished the project" it's Steve...

"You did?" I asked almost astonished that he did school work.

He laughs "yeah I did don't be surprised."

"How'd you know I was sitting here tonight?" I asked as I lean against the wall.

"Asked Liv, so hows sitting for the wheelers doing ya?" He asked.

I sigh I had to tell him. Just tell him! "Um..Steve I have to tell you something" I whispered.

"Hm?"

"I um saw Nancy and Liam.." I whispered.

He hangs up, the only thing I hear is beeping. Oh my god.

20 minutes later karen and Ted come back. Ted drives me home. He doesn't bother making small talk he just tries to drive as fast as he can (without breaking the law) so he can get back home and watch tv.

I'm was glad to be home, I'm was just ready to pass out.

-

I wake up at 7:30 the next day. A little late but I still had enough time to get ready, and not be late for school.

When I walk out of my bedroom I see my dad passed out on the couch, beers surrounding him, while the tv was playing the news station. Sometimes I wish my dad didn't drink so much, him, and drunk don't pair well together.

I sigh as I hear the phone ringing. I walk over to the phone and pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey y/n. I..I know you were babysitting for Karen last night Um do you know if he stayed the night there?" Joyce asks.

I shake my head "no ma'am I watched him leave" I say.

She sighs shakily "oh..oh okay I'm sure he just le..left early for school" she says before hanging up the phone.

I couldn't help but be worried the entire time I was making breakfast, and the drive to school. Will was a good kid, he wouldn't just leave early without telling his mom. I was worried something happened to him last night. I was worried someone took him.

It could've been his father, their father had a track record for doing shit like this. Snatching up one of the kids, taking them up to his house just for shits and giggles. Just to see how worried joyce got. I remember in middle school he took Jonathan one night, I will never forget how Joyce came knocking on our door with will beside her (he was only about 9 at the time) she sobbed in our living room for an hour scared her boy was snatched up by some crazy person.

Dad sat with her rubbing her back trying to convince her that's not what happened, then my dad said "maybe Lonnie has him" Joyce stood up so fast marching out that door leaving Will with us. She came back half an hour later with Jonathan who was just as shaken up as his mother was. They stayed with us that night, and every night for the rest of the week.

I sat in the car with my dad, we were driving down the road to school. "Joyce called earlier" I whispered he hummed "hm what'd she want?" He asked I bounced my leg up and down anxiously. "She cant find will" I say. He shrugs "Lonnie probably took him again" dad muttered as we pull up to my school.

I see Liv, and Liam standing at the front of the school (the both normally wait for Michelle and I). Then I spot Steve's bmw parked next to a tree. He's still in his car. I get out, grab my bag, and walk over to his car. I tap my finger against the glass. He's just depressingly staring at his lap. He jerks his head towards me frightened by my unexpected presence. He smiled wheakly before rolling down the window.

"You alright?" I asked, he shrugged. "I've..I've got the project in the back if that's what you're looking for" he whispered as he took his keys out of the ignition. I shook my head "just wanted to see how you're doing" I say stepping back as he gets out of his car.

"I'm fine why wouldn't I be fine?" He said. I watched as he glared at liam. "I just thought he was my friend you know."

"You going to do anything?" I asked. Steve was the king of hawkins high, known for bullying everyone. I thought he was going to like beat him up or something. "No.." he whispered.

"Harrington?! What the fuck are you doing!" I hear tommy shout from across the parking lot. Steve looks up. Tommy's standing next to his car with one arm wrapped around his girlfriend, Carol.

"See you in 4th?" I nod in response as I watched him walk over to his friends, fixing his posture and putting my on a fake confidence.

I began to walk toward liam, Liv, and now Michelle who stood by the entrance of the school. Liv waves as I walk towards them. "Y/nnn!" Michelle says as i wrap my arms around her hugging her. "Thought you weren't going to come today" she says with a laugh. "I was just talking to Steve" I whispered. Liam looks at me, a look that said "you better not have told him." I pull away from Michelle and give Liam a shy wave. Liam smiles akwardly back. It feels weird, distant, like he's not my friend anymore just a guy I once knew. Liv side eyes both of us. Nancy walks into the school with Barb beside her. Liam stares for a second "Hey I'll catch you guys later" Liam said before following after nancy. "What the hells wrong with you two?" Liv asks as soon as liam walks away.

"Nothing" I said crossing my arms over my chest. "You sure?" Liv asked leaning against the brick wall. "We're fine" I whispered. Liv looks over at Michelle "do they seem fine to you?" Michelle shrugs. "Not my business" she said leaning her head against liv's shoulder. Why'd she care so much? How was I even supposed to tell her I found her brother swapping spit with Steve harringtons girlfriend? "Did you guys fuck?" Liv blurts out. My eyes widen. How could she even think that! I'd never touch her brother in a romantic or sexual way. Even if I did like him because she's my best friend.

"Oh my god, noo! I'd never do that!" I say. She sighs "seriously though you guys are acting weird did you fight?" I shook my head. "No it's nothing alright just drop it..." she nodded hesitantly.

"I'll see you guys later" I said quietly as I walked into the school. First period was biology. honestly not my favorite thing to be doing at 8 o'clock in the morning, but it could be math. I first stop at my locker to pick up my notebook, textbook, and pencil case, before making my way to the other side of the building. It wasn't a big building which I'm extremely greatful for, I could be at the high school I was supposed to go to in New York. The thing was massive.

The door was propped open, and Mr. Reynolds was sitting at his desk, flipping through a stack of papers. Only a few other kids were in the classroom, no one I really talked to but I didn't care to be talking to anyone at 8 in the morning anyways. I found my seat quietly and looked up at the objective on the board.

A couple of popular girls walked in after me, giggling as they found their seats. I open up my notebook and jot down the date since we're only supposed to be doing notes today.

"Hey" I look up to see one of the popular girls in my grade, Anna Wilkinson. I can hear her friends trying to quietly giggle from behind me. "Hey?" My eyebrows furrow together. Why did people decide to bother me this early. She can barely get out a sentence without running back to her freinds giggling.

-

It's now the beginning of fourth period. Steve hadn't walked in yet and I was beginning to think him, and Nancy decided to skip fourth to make out in the bathroom. Then I remembered he's not the happiest with Nancy currently, but he was good at faking so who knows what he's doing.

30 seconds before the bell rang Steve waltz's in with our project. Late as always. He takes a seat next to me greeting his friends along the way.

"You're late" I whispered, "no I had 30 seconds to spare" he says smirking. I roll my eyes. The bell rings. "I talked to nance" he whispered as the teacher explained what was going to happen this class period. "What'd she say?" I asked.

"She said nothing going on between her and Liam" I roll my eyes. "Do you believe her?" He shrugs. He believes her, he'd always believe her. "But you said yourself you had a feeling something was happening?" He shrugs. Steve harrington was so fucking stupid "so you don't believe me?" He shrugs again.

"Y/n?" I look up to see Mrs. Walker holding a slip of paper. Which I assumed was from the front office. "You're fathers here." I nod grabbing my things. "See you tomorrow" I mutter as I walk past Steve and towards the door. I go to my locker first grab my backpack out of there,  put my notebook, and other stuff back. Then I head up to the front office. My dads sitting in a chair all slumpt back. Dad looks up once the door slams shut. "What's wrong?" I asked he has pity in his eyes. "Will's missing" he whispered. I let out a deep breath. It's my fault. I immediately blame myself, I always do. I should've told him to stay and had Ted take him home. I could've done so much.

"Did you check Lonnie's?" I asked. "We're trying but we're going to check the surrounding areas first." I cross my arms over my chest "but he's taken him before he could be there!" I argue. "Calm down, we're looking y/n." I blink back tears as I turn around. "Let's just go" I whisper. I hear the chair creek as he gets up. Dad placed his hand on my back escorting me out of the office. "See you around Deb" dad says waving goodbye to the office worker.

Dad helped me into the car, and took my bag, throwing it into the back. "You'll find him right?" I asked quietly. "We're trying" he says back. He puts the keys into the ignition, letting the car start up. "You're going to find him right?" I repeat a little louder. "I can't promise anything" I sighed letting my face fall against the glass.

Tears ran down my cheeks as dad drove us to the station. I couldn't help but feel like this was my fault. I always blamed myself, when mom left, when Sara died. It was somehow my fault. I always felt like mom wished it was me who died not sara. That's why she left. She didn't care that much for me. She could start over forget about dad and I. I always felt that if it was I to die my parents would still be together. Even though their marriage had been failing far before sara and I. They tried to fix things for us, but obviously it didn't work.

"You're going to stay here while me and the others look for will." I turn towards him astonished that he wouldn't let me help too. "I'm going too" I argued he tried to stand his ground but I continued to argue. "More people equals more ground searched. Let me come too!" He sighs "no I already said no!" He shouts. I roll my eyes and cross my arms "this is so unfair" i muttered as I got out of the car "life's not fair!" He shouts as I'm walking up to the station.

-

Dads out for a couple hours. I swear I fell asleep at least 5 times in dads office chair. It was big and comfy and so hard to stay awake in. I seriously don't know how dad worked in that chair.

He comes and picks me up before dropping me off at home so they can go do more searching. Im still not happy but what else it there to do.

Staying at home by myself in the middle of the woods always had me a little to paranoid. Every noise made me jump, and I always remembered to lock every door and window in the house. No one was getting in here without me letting them in or a key.

I was a little more terrified today that any other. Maybe it was will going missing, maybe it was all the serial killers on the news, but I was jumping at every single random noise I heard. Dad wasn't going to be back late, and I was frantically checking every door and window. I needed someone here, or I needed to leave. And I definitely wasn't leaving at this time of night so I picked up the phone. Who was I going to call? I didn't know. The first number that popped into my head was the stations (obviously couldn't call that so next..) the next one is familiar but I didn't know who it was but I called it cause that's all my brain could remember right then.

One ring, two rings, three rin-

"Hello?" Steve.

"Hey" I whispered back, I'm jittery I can barely keep my hand still.

"Y/n? What's up?" He asked.

"Can you come over...please?" I whispered. I feel like I'm about to cry. I don't know why I'm about to cry but I am.

"Um yeah i...sure I'll be there in a few minutes."

I swear my brain was torturing me. Every time a tree would scratch against a window, or one of those random 'night sounds' happened I'd jump. I forced myself to watch cartoons to try and calm myself down but it didn't really work.

When I heard a knock at the door I knew it was Steve but a voice in the back of my head tried to convince myself it was a monster? Serial killer? I don't even know. The only thing that convinced me it was him was when I heard.

"Y/n? It's me" from the other side of the door.

I slowly got up and unlocked both locks. When I opened the door it wasn't a serial killer, or monster just Steve. Just Steve with a concerned look on his face. "Hey" he says softly, "what's wrong?"

"Just wanted some company" I whispered. He furrowed his eyebrows "why didn't you call..Liv or Michelle?" He asked I shrug "your number was the first to pop up in my head" I respond grabbing his wrist and pulling him inside, and lock the door. I'm shaking as I walk back over to the couch. "Are you sure you're alright?" He asked as he followed me to the couch. I take a deep breath in. I'm being childish, nothings going to get me god dammit. I try convincing myself that but I can't I'm still hearing random knocks and sounds around the house, and outside. "Y/n?" I look up at him brows furrowed "are you sure you're alright?" I shake my head. "I'm scared" I whispered. "Bout what?" He replied. "I'm being stupid I'm sorry" I whispered "you can leave, um my dad should be here soon anyways."

He reaches out grabbing my hand "no, you're obviously not alright I'll stay with you until you're dad gets here."

Somehow I end up with my head rested on Steve's lap watching some of the old cartoons my dad had on vhs. His hand is laid on my arm, he runs his hand up and down the length of my arm every so often.

The sound of the door getting up locked broke us from our concentration on the tv. I prop myself up with my hand looking back at the door.

"Hey I'm ho- what the hell is he doing here?"

Taglist

@kleeixe @teddyylicious @band--psycho @fixtionlover @sbeve-chairington @hellojameshowyadoin @write-from-the-heart @sagejin @burn1ngw00d @leftcloudparadise @untitledarea

[multifandomfanfic]

I posted 48 times in 2022

That's 11 more posts than 2021!

43 posts created (90%)

5 posts reblogged (10%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ilongfor-the-arts

@peakydiary

@lay-z

@asskickedbygirl

I tagged 42 of my posts in 2022

Only 13% of my posts had no tags

#fanfic - 13 posts

#imagine - 12 posts

#x reader - 12 posts

#x y/n - 12 posts

#x yn - 10 posts

#fanfiction - 9 posts

#top gun - 8 posts

#🦫 - 8 posts

#top gun maverick - 8 posts

#😍 - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 97 characters

#we just decided it would be best/more efficient for us to have smut only available on one account

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hello!

Could you write something that the reader, who is not a pilot and works with Penny, likes Jake very much, but is afraid to talk to him because she has not heard pleasant things about him? After they somehow meet (my preference is after the beach scene because why not hehe) they start spending more time together and so on. A bit fluffy and smutty if you can.

Thank you!!

Pay Your Tab

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem! Reader

Warnings: kissing, groping, smut references, language, angst, hickeys

Summary: Despite harboring crush on Hangman for a while, you’ve never acted on it due to other peoples’ opinion on him.. until now.

Word Count: 4.3k

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902 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

#4

Hey!! Love you guys’ work. Could I request a Hangman x reader x Bob 👀 smut where the reader is either Hangman’s girlfriend or just a friend of both of them and Hangman is showing Bob how to treat a woman right (if u catch my drift)? Thanks! 💕

Sexual Education

Pairing: Bob x fem! Reader x Hangman

Warnings: slightly insecure Bob, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, language, voyeurism (kind of)

Summary: It’s a typical night at The Hard Deck. But an unexpected conversation with Bob exposes one of his secrets. Hangman and you vow to teach him a few things to help him form future relationship.

Word Count: 7.5k

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1,055 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

#3

Hi! Okay so hear me out 😂 Reader is Iceman’s daughter and she’s dating Hangman but she comes clean to him about wanting to sleep with Bradly too. One night Jake comes home from work and has Bradly in tow and together they both take care of her.

Great Balls of Fire

Pairing: Hangman x fem! reader x Rooster

Warnings: Smut, threesome, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, Eiffel Tower, face fucking, brief male masturbation, voyeurism, language, hair pulling

Word Count: 6.4k

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1,056 notes - Posted June 18, 2022

#2

Hi!! I was wondering if I could request a fluffy one shot with iceman from top gun?? I was thinking a morning after and reader is kinda unsure of what is going to happen but Tom is super sweet and cuddly. Love your writings!!!💕💕

Morning After

Summary: Worries flood your mind after your first time with Iceman. You had been told to stay away from Navy pilots after all. Luckily, Ice makes how he feels about your relationship clear.

Warnings: mentions of sex, kissing, doubts about relationship (I guess)

Word Count: 2.1k

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1,604 notes - Posted June 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ma do a smut for bradley bradshaw where you’re iceman’s youngest daughter and he fucks you in your room when everyone is home🙏🙏

Home Sweet Home

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, language, unprotected sex, voyeurism, female masturbation, overstimulation, oral (m! Receiving), choking, praise kink, begging

Word Count: 6k

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2,391 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[darkclouud9]

making a collective post of incorrect (or weird) statements on someone's timeline bc it boils my blood

to start out with, Dan is 3 years older than the sannin 😭 he dies at 27, Tsunade is 24. Dai's age is very hard to get a good angle on since he *does* have an age of death, but no reference point from other characters. as in Gai is 8-12 when he dies but you don't know when 🤷‍♂️

weird reference point. Tazuna is such a random character when A) Dai is right there, both their sons are the same age, and B) the sannin are also right there, and Sakumo is mentioned in relation to them. (following Tazuna's age would make Sakumo 59 in pt 1 if he were still alive, 33 when Kakashi was born, and 37-41 when he died. in reference, I headcanon he died at 29.)

Nawaki. is canonically 12 years younger than Tsunade. he dies the same year as Dan......... Tsunade looks young but because of Dan's death age, she is definitely 24. also Hashirama (probably) never knew he had a grandson. which could still align with 👇

I'm so done. Obito and Rin are anywhere from 0-4 years older than Kakashi, Asuma and Kurenai are 1 year older than Kakashi, Shizune is 2 years older, Mei is the same age, Tsunami is 3 years older, and Chiriku is roughly 2 years older.......

Gai is the same age as Kakashi and Ibiki is 1 year older, continued from above.

Sakumo........ yeah. people think something abt him n Kaguya. I don't understand it, but it's cool. I guess.....

Kakashi and Zabuza are the same age. Samui is 2 years younger?? like how do you fumble almost everyone's age. also Mabui is same age as Samui but okay...

Sakumo probably didn't live past Kakashi's graduation :( (yk. the youngest ever. mentioned.)

congrats, you got their age differences right. mostly. why does Genma have a range he's 15...

but similarly with the above, no clue exactly how old anyone was here except Dai. (I think most places say Gai was 12, but for some reason I've always had 8 in my head. there is no canonical age, I don't think... (similarly, I always get Kisame's age wrong by 1 year. he's actually the same age as Genma, which is how I've learnt to remember.)

dude. this is the worst one. Yahiko canonically dies at 15 you cannot just change this...

because of Yahiko's age of death, the gap from Kakashi to Ame Orphans (5 years), and that Yahiko died BEFORE Rin, you can deduce Kakashi was no older than 10 when Rin died.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 16

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic

Words:

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

“That’s too cliche.” The youngest Lannister sibling argued. He was a good one, Selmy reluctantly noted to himself as the two of them had already gotten into two arguments. Tyrion, despite his young age, was sharper than any blade and had a knack for making flawless argumentative statements. Each point he made took huge chunks out of any argument Selmy could muster.

“Not cliche, normal. Safe. We want to appear normal if we run into anyone asking questions.” Barristan was a patient man, had always been. Truth be told he actually enjoyed their debates. It kept them busy on an already long journey. “Fathers and sons are seen all the time traveling together.”

Tyrion refused to look the knight in the eyes, something that alerted Selmy to one of Tyrion’s sullen moods. “So are knights and their squires. We can pose being a knight and squire instead.”

Who would believe that Tyrion was his squire though? Incredibly short, even for a young child, it was all too obvious by the naked eye of Tyrion’s deformity. A long torso with short limbs, accentuated by his mismatched eyes. He could never be anyone’s squire.

If he were to tell this child that though, he would feel like a monster. There was no need to say it out loud; Tyrion already knew that in reality he could never be anyone’s squire. He could never be like his older brother Jaime.

Holding his tongue, eventually Selmy agreed to Tyrion’s suggestion. There was no harm in it. Let the boy live a little while he could. “Very well then, but that means you will have to act like my squire, young-”

“Vaiko.” Tyrion interrupts with that oddly loud voice of his. Green and black finally return to Selmy’s face. “Vaiko Hill will be my squire name. I’d much rather be a bastard than. . .” He grew quiet, refusing to finish that thought. There was no need. Barristan Selmy already was aware of Tywin Lannister’s treatment of his two youngest children. The relationship, if you could even call it that, was poor. Even as (y/n) married Prince Rhaegar, Tywin still held that permanent frown. Any other father would have been over the moon.

“Vaiko it is. Where did you get that name from?” It wasn’t a name you heard in Westeros.

In a simple manner, Tyrion replies “I read a lot.”

Nodding, Selmy trains his attention back to the road ahead. It had been a while since they had seen anyone on the main road. They took their chances and leave the safety of the forest. Barristan and Tyrion would need to go back on the established path eventually if they wanted to get passage through the Dornish Marshes. The Prince’s Pass was the only way to safely get to Dorne by land. It went straight through the mountain and led exactly to Starfall.

Passing through the Reach, Selmy and Tyrion saw first hand the horror of war. The older knight had warned Tyrion to close his eyes as they passed through a battlefield. Stubborn just like the Warden of the West, Tyrion refused to look away. This was what he almost enlisted himself to. So young but as he gazed at the carnage, the boy aged a good twenty years. Tyrion would never tell his companion that the site haunted him deep in his dreams. He would deal with the dismembered images by himself. The outcome of war and the deep scars it left on the land. At least it was enough to straighten out Tyrion and any thought of joining Rhaegar.

The mountain chains that separated Westeros from Dorne was becoming more visible as each day passed. Selmy could tell that Tyrion was beside himself with excitement as the boy squirmed on the saddle. Very likely due to the fact that he hadn't gotten to see this much of the world due to Tywin’s embarrassment. The Lord of Casterly Rock was acutely sensitive about having a dwarf for a son. A question came across his mind; since Jaime had vanished months ago with no sign of returning, who would Tywin declare as his successor? The Lannister family was a large one but surely Tywin wanted the famed title of Warden to one of his sons. Who would he choose if not Tyrion?

“Do you even know how to use a sword? A squire at least knows the basics.” explains Selmy to the overtly quiet Tyrion who stretched his neck up to the sky. Such a big world for someone as small as him. A big world where he was all alone. Right now all he had was Selmy.

It only made him purse his lips in agitation. “I wanted to. Begged father. But he said a dwarf has no place on the training ground.” His tone was defensive. Plenty of boys by Tyrion’s age already knew how to correctly handle a blade. Yet another reminder of how captive his life had been back home.

Slowly, he shifts the pressure of the horse reins and veers off the beaten path. His surroundings having changed, Tyrion asks “Where are you going?”

Safely in the heart of the forest, Selmy dismounts his horse and lifts Tyrion off as well. “You should at least learn the basics. We’ll need something for practice.” Barristan pulls a sizable branch, ripping it from it’s foundation. With a satisfied nod, he takes out a small knife and begins to quickly whittle away at the branch.

Tyrion stares nervously at the makeshift sword before looking back up at Barristan. The former captain of the King’s Guard had the starting lines of crows feet near his pale, sad, blue eyes. Thick threads of silver and white are overcoming his once blonde head. “You want to teach me how to use a sword?”

“Of course. It’s a very useful skill to possess.” True, especially during these times of uncertainty and danger. If Tyrion really wanted to be on his own in the world it wouldn’t hurt to know how to defend yourself. And Selmy knew that this kid was already a quick learner and an eager student. He would pick it up fairly fast, although it would take Barristan some time to grow accustomed to Tyrion’s height deficiency.

Switching from his small knife to the quickly fashioned training sword, Tyrion weighed it in his small hands. Tentatively, he takes a firm grip on the “handle”. While Barristan makes his own practice weapon, Tyrion slashes at the space in front of him. One of the most renowned knights in all of Westeros was going to be his teacher. Already his life had been so much better after leaving Casterly Rock. The beginning trek from the West hadn’t been an easy one, but Tyrion persevered all by himself.

He couldn’t stop smiling to himself. Too slow in hiding it, Barristan caught the sight of a happy child. When Tyrion smiled, his eyes were glossy with joy. Like his older sister (y/n). The short time she lived at the Keep, everyone knew of Princess (y/n)’s lovely smile. It made her beautiful. Personally Barristan didn’t think the youngest Lannister daughter was pretty. Plain and unimposing, (y/n) had a square face with bowed lips that were a natural soft pink. Unlike Cersei, (y/n) never wore makeup which would possibly improve her appearance. When she smiled, oh, she didn’t need makeup. Her lips would part in a gleeful laugh, showing off perfect rows of pearls. One could feel the joy by gazing upon her sparkling eyes.

“Mother says that (y/n) smiles just like Johanna did.” Rhaegar had told Selmy one day. (y/n) and Tyrion smiled just like their dearly departed mother.

Shyly, Tyrion inquires “When did you learn to use a sword?”

Thinking as he worked on his branch, Selmy easily replies “Possibly seven or eight.”

He nods, knowing that Jaime probably started at that age as well. Many knights started off young. It was the only way. Learn to wield a blade during childhood before becoming a squire for some lord. Grueling years of hard work; Barristan did not miss them but knew those years were essential to his growth.

“Better to learn now then never.” The old knight offers Tyrion with a small smile. His practice sword was ready. “Now, young Hill, stand in front of me and we shall begin the basics.”

From then on their days were filled with traveling and sword training. Not so bad considering that Tyrion had spent the majority of his life sequestered in the library of Casterly Rock. As Selmy had foreseen, Tyrion was a very fast learner. In the beginning it had been a bit of a struggle. The young boy was top heavy and with the slightest push back, he easily toppled over. The matter wasn’t helped by the fact of his short arms and legs that offered him no stability as he flailed in an attempt to maintain his balance. Easily frustrated by his disability, Barristan would force Tyrion back on the horse for a break and to continue their journey. His mission was not time sensitive, at least Varys didn’t tell him it was, but Selmy wanted to make it to Starfall as soon as possible. With a civil war going on it wasn’t safe to travel. Especially if someone from either side was to spot him and recognize the young boy he was with. Gods did the boy learn fast how to keep his balance and adjust his body.

Within a few more days, the duo was already at the pass to the Dornish Marshes.

Tyrion gazed at the massive mountain chain with trepidation. Once they passed through, they technically wouldn’t be in Westeros anymore. Despite being part of the Seven Kingdoms, Dorne still considered themselves a separate sovereignty.

Through the marshes, their adventure would truly begin.

Sensing the tenseness in Tyrion, Barristan halts his horse. “Are you ready?”

Little hands took the reins from Barristan and urged the horse onward. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Grinning, Barristan let Tyrion take the lead.

64.media.tumblr.com

Taglist:

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[385bookreviews]

2.113 It Was Just Another Day in America by Ryan David Ginsberg

SPOILERS

Pages: 162

Time Read: 2 hours and 10 minutes

Overall Rating: ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ Storyline: ★★★★☆ Dialogue: ★★☆☆☆ Characters: ★★★☆ ☆

Genre: Short Stories and Poems

TWs for the book: A Million Times Over Again: Death of a grandparent Amber's Son: Child death, war, violence, military A Baby is Born: Pregnancy, birth, medical content, abandonment, debt, classism, ableism Tommy Longhorn, Planet Explorer: Death, blood, child death, mass shooting, death of a parent The Termination Bureau: Graphic abortion, baby death, gun violence, mentions of CSA and incest, pregnancy, abandonment, police brutality, ableism Dinner and a Show: Cannibilism, elitism, classism, war, death, bombs It Was Just Another Day in America: School shooting, child death, police and military, guns, blood, bullying A Portrait of the Artist in 2022: N/A Poems: Su*c*de, existentialism, depression, anxiety, Tr*mp, politics, school/mass shootings

POV: Various

Time Period/Location: America in different alternate dystopian timelines

First Line: For ten years I have walked circles around this village, looking in on villagers who have never once looked out at me.

The book opens with a poem entitled Mr. Gatekeeper, a metaphor for the author being allowed to share his stories and poems with others.

This is followed by two different introduction notes where the author introduces himself before the short stories segment of his book.

A Million Times Over Again is about girl named Hannah recounting how as a child she used to ask everyone where they thought we came from. Everyone had varying answers, until she asked her Nana. While she knits, Nana recounts the tale of how the Universe and Souls came to be, how Souls had Soul-mates, and then how they were torn apart by an evil force that invaded the Universe. She goes on to tell how the Souls would take over humans in order to search for their Soul-mates, over and over again for forever. At the end, Nana tells her that they are each others Soul-mates, and years later, when she dies, Hannah knows that she will find her again.

Amber's Son is set in an America where children of any age can go to war. The characters in this story have no names, and are only referred to as the son or daughter of their mother. Amber's son signs up for the military at 12 years old, fed lies about glory and fun and whiskey and patriotism. His mother has no choice but to sign off on it, and six days later he is sent to a far off desert to fight in a squad of other children, the youngest being only 8, and the oldest only 17. They invade a village of other young children and Amber's son kills eight of them before being shot and killed himself. This story changes your view from soldiers being sent off to war, to someone's son or daughter being sent to kill someone else's son or daughter in a meaningless conflict demanded by an uncaring government.

A Baby is Born paints a picture of the ultimate capitalist hellscape where corporations literally own you. Maybelline is at the hospital alone, without her husband as he can't take time off of work to be there for the birth of their baby. She is consistently harassed by "Recruiters" who try to get her to sign away her and her baby's lives to various corporations in order to fund her birth. She had to sign herself to three additional companies in order to cover just the cost of seeing a doctor, which is $25,000. Before she is allowed to see the doctor, while she is in active labor, she has to sit through hours of pitches from Recruiters and even the doctor before she is seen or treated. She has no choice but to have her baby born in one of these birthing centers, or her baby will not be considered an American citizen. Additionally, her and the baby have to be signed away to enough corporations to cover the cost of the birth itself, which is $2 million. Amber has already lost two babies by not having enough money, because if you can’t pay, your baby is taken and sold. After signing up her baby to 48 corporations, she is finally allowed to give birth, but she isn't allowed to hold her baby until examinations are done to determine that the child will even be a functioning member of society. When they finally give her the child back, they inform her that their name will be chosen by the company that purchased the right to do so.

Tommy Longhorn, Planet Explorer tells the story of an alien who travels the universes and lives among whatever newly discovered species has been found to determine whether or not they can join the Confederation of the Cosmos. He comes to Earth, leaving his wife and four children behind, and lives disguised among the humans for a decade. The day he is supposed to leave, he goes to the mall to get souvenirs and Christmas presents for his wife and children, but is gunned down by a mass shooter.

The Termination Bureau takes the crown for the most uncomfortable and disturbing story in this collection. In the state of Florida in a dystopian America, people are allowed to either sell their babies to the state before they're born for whichever reason they wish. If the babies have intelligence potential, they are sent to special academies. If they have strength potential, they are sent to become laborers. If they have loyalty potential, they are sold to corporations. Babies that don't have any of those things are put on podiums in an all white room, and shot in the head by a police officer. A 13 year old girl, impregnated by her father, comes in to request to sell her unborn child to the state. She is denied, as she doesn't have her father's permission to sell it. The Moral Advisor reads her the law which states that children are a man's property, and women are only incubators who have no right to sell a man's property, regardless or r*pe or incest. She has to give birth to the baby, keep it, and raise it for the next 18 years, or she must spend her life in prison. The girl leaves, and proceeds to go into the alley around back and perform a coat-hanger abortion on herself. The Moral Advisor calls the police, and they brutally handcuff her and throw her into the back of a police car.

Dinner and a Show is set in another alternate reality, with nine of the richest, most elite men in the world, having dinner in Malibu where they praise the virtues of capitalism while every country in the world is at war with each other. Tom Edison, the first ever trillionaire, eats the dismembered arm of one of his factory workers who died of heat stroke. Jean Dirt, the most famous and charismatic actor, eats roasted eyeballs. George Adams, an influential and dangerous investor, eats some of the most expensive food you could think of. Yukio Sing, the spoiled nepo baby inheritor of the Kingdom of Diamonds, eats lion meat and human bone broth mixed with blood. Norm Wolff, the number one news anchor in the country who does nothing but lie for money, eats nothing but fried foods covered in sugar. Ashley Morrison, former CEO of the biggest oil company, eats the meat and eggs of endangered animals. Tomas Marquez, a real estate investor, eats food with ingredients taken from all over the world. Scott Anderson, the former President of the United States that started the Great War to End All Wars, eats food made to look like an American flag. Finally, our narrator, prolific author Theodore Doerr III, eats a human brain. They finally go out on a balcony that overviews a battlefield while they mindlessly discuss the ever changing political affiliations of the countries fighting in the war. Two armies go out on the battlefield to meet each other, one side American and the other side either Tanzanian or Japanese, the men no longer know who they're even fighting. A massive bomb is dropped on the battlefield and when the smoke clears, both armies are completely dead. The men cheer regardless.

It Was Just Another Day in America shows little Jasper going off to school in his bulletproof vest. He is bullied by the other kids relentlessly, and has only one friend, Bryan. The pair are sat away from the rest of the class as the teacher has no other way to stop the bullying. The children have their things and themselves scanned and searched before they can enter the school, and when they go out to play, they are surrounded by police, military, helicopters, and guard towers, all holding guns. In the middle of class, an alarm goes off, and the children run to get into their individual bunkers, the teacher wielding a gun and not allowed to go into her own bunker until all the students are in theirs. Several students forget their passwords, but the teacher isn't allowed to know the codes because some other teacher used them to slaughter her entire class. Jasper gets into his bunker. When he is let out two hours later, the bodies are gone but the blood is still there. His teacher and several of his classmates were killed, including Bryan. Class continues for the day with a substitute teacher.

A Portrait of the Artist in 2022 tells a simple and short story of an Unknown Writer who goes to Hollywood Boulevard to try and become famous for his book. At stall 43,222 he does dramatic readings of his story. Everyone passes him by and no one takes copies of his book. He packs up his things, and prepares to do it all again the next day.

Ginsberg's Poems explore themes in his own life, such as existentialism, depression, anxiety, su*c*de, and his relationship with his wife; as well as political topics he covered in his short stories.

Stories: I really enjoyed Ginsberg's stories, even though some of them were deeply unsettling. The metaphors and dystopias he uses to convey his political points and thoughts on the current state of our country are a bit on the nose, but they definitely put things into perspective. It Was Just Another Day in America, The Termination Bureau, A Baby is Born, and Dinner and a Show seem extreme, but it also makes you wonder, if things continue as they are, will it get to that eventually? I really would like to see some of these short stories expanded upon more, as they gave off a Ray Bradbury vibe.

Poems: I did not care for Ginsberg's poems nearly as much as I enjoyed his stories. I enjoyed I Keep Slipping, Our Youth, Sacrilegious, and Mr. America, but the rest felt a little bit like unstable ramblings, especially with the author openly contemplating su*c*de in several of them. He refers to his wife with varying degrees of unhealthy reverence and sees her as too good for him. His political poems are a simpler rehashing of the concepts he wrote about in his stories. This ultimately dropped the book down to three stars for me.

Summary: This was a quick and easy read that I definitely don't regret, but I did have a little bit of higher hopes for. While I can understand the concept as an author to be seen and recognized for your work, the constant rehashing of feeling miserable with life and his writing going no where (not just in his poems but also in A Portrait of the Artist in 2022) felt repetitive, hopeless, and almost whiny. I don't feel as though I was the target audience here, as I'm sure a cishet man might relate better to the concepts and emotions he was trying to convey. I did greatly enjoy the stories however, and if he fleshed one of those out into a novel, I would definitely read it. This book also had a few typos. While most books seem to nowadays, between that, overall structure, and the content of his poetry, I feel as though an editor would have greatly benefit him.

[boldlygayingwherenogayshavegayed]

1. Loan Moraer likes his name I think? He's proud to wear his mum's name (since he's the youngest) and he likes his first name but he doesn't have super strong feelings about it.

2. Probably how enthusiastic and energetic he is? ADHD boi.

3. When he's alone he's actually fairly calm? Like he still fidgets n shit but he takes his time and actually likes repetitive familiar slow tasks over running around

4. Oblivious lol

5. Not sure?? Like he might stim nervously but there's so many reasons for him to do so I don't think most people would catch on.

6. The salt of the sea and firewood probably.

7. Fairly soft but there's probably often knots in it.

8. I don't think he owns any jewelry (at first) but he might pick up some along the way. His mum has a singular earring and he probably has wanted one too for a while.

9. Aside from echolalias not really - he does tend to overuse people's name when addressing them

10. He blinks a lot, especially when he's surprised or confused.

11. probably blue (which now that I think of he wears a LOT)

12. I'd say words of encouragement mostly but he also has big "hey I found a cool rock that's for you" energy

13. Not really? I mean he doesn't spontaneously meet people's eyes but he isn't actively uncomfortable with it so he will meet people's eyes if they make eye contact.

14. A lot of his body language comes from his mum, so do his freckles, his eyes come from his dad. He copies his sister a lot when it comes to his sense of humour and sarcastic side (she's worse)

15. He's ready to do anything for people he loves. That includes throwing himself into dangerous situations and impulsive decisions.

16. Growing up in a small place where his world is small has fed his curiosity and being in a place where you need to work hard and rely on others and community has probably shaped him a LOT in that he's kind, hard working, trusting, loyal... He can also be a bit naive and that's definitely related, too.

✧ OC Asks! ✧

I compiled a short list of some questions that I hadn’t seen yet to help you (and me) have some fun while developing OCs. Feel free to answer these yourself, or ask someone else!

1. How does your OC feel about their full name?

2. What do strangers notice about them first?

3. How does their social personality differ from how they act when they’re alone?

4. How do they act around a crush?

5. Do they have a “tell” for when they’re lying?

6. What do they smell like?

7. What is their hair texture like?

8. How much jewelry do they wear, and do they have a favorite or distinguishing piece?

9. Do they have a word or phrase that they tend to overuse?

10. What is a weird quality that they have (ie their hands are always cold, they’re always hungry, they snort when they laugh, etc)?

11. What color do they look strikingly good in?

12. How do they show affection to someone they love?

13. Do they make strong/frequent eye contact when they talk to someone?

14. What attributes do they have that are inherited from their parents or shared with their siblings/other relatives?

15. Are their greatest flaw and their greatest strength related and in what way? (ie very caring and helpful but a doormat, or very observant and shrewd but often paranoid)

16. How has their childhood affected the way they view an aspect of their life (people, education, society, themselves, etc)?

And that’s all! Remember to reblog with your answers, I’m genuinely curious to hear about other people’s characters/writing processes!

Part II: https://liliamoon.tumblr.com/post/671647292219097088/oc-asks-part-ii

[noxtivagus]

>< today was really good!! 🫶🏼

[bratshaws]

goodness gracious 29. brb x oc

a/n: this chapter went everywhere three times before I wrote this version down. Also, when I found out that a+ man beef Bradley Bradshaw speaks Spanish I love my fucking mind.

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: mentions of Carole's disease, Bradley deals with a lot of shit :(, Bea worries a lot.

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

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@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22

-

“BALL!”

Beatrice quickly snatched her head towards the direction of the said ball, cupping her hands together to toss it over the net, hitting the opposite side with a slam.  It’s their first day of practice, their team of six separated into three so they’d play against each other in this empty open gym.

She didn’t know how Evelyn did it, maybe her parents helped her out a bit - not that she’d ask her about it - on keeping it vacant until they were done. Beatrice,Shells and Carmen were together, while Evelyn, Eliza and Jennifer were the opposing ‘team.’ Beatrice now remembered why Evelyn was team captain, denying as she might, she had the presence of a Navy Vice-Admiral within herself. She commanded the court without ever raising her voice and her firm stares were enough to understand where everyone was doing something wrong.

She was serious about this game, just like she was with everything else, with an eagle’s focus on doing a good job no matter what. Beatrice admired that so much, she wished she could have just the smidge of confidence Evelyn had for certain situations. She was still nervous about this game, nervous about the other team, nervous about letting people down.

Evelyn didn’t tell them much about who they’d be playing up against only that they are a professional team. She didn’t prod Evelyn either, she knew that the other woman would share information with the others when she felt like it. They stopped the practice a few times whenever Evelyn commented how their poses were off or if their set wasn’t strong enough.

It was intense but it had a good reason to be. “Alright,” Evelyn says after they’ve been practicing for one whole hour, “Water break guys.” She keeps the ball next to her side, following the other women as they sit on the benches close to the water cooler. They were sweating and panting like dogs, it’s been a while since they had such a strenuous workout like that. Even if she and Shells had Tiff’s class, their bodies got used to it now but when it came  to volleyball their joints just screamed from time to time thanks to disuse.

Carmen was the first to break the silence when the others were still drinking water, “Hey Ev, what can you tell us about this other team?” she asks, her bright pink hair pulled up in a ponytail with some strands sticking to her temples and forehead.

Evelyn thought about it, bringing the water to her lips to take a sip, “They are ‘professional’,” she air quoted, “As in they were part of regional championships but had…certain issues.”

“Issues?” Eliza asks, her hazel eyes shining with worry, “What issues?”

“Temperamental issues.” She says, “They are a bit over the top and think they are great. I actually met their team captain back when Prof.Richards told me and she is…” Evelyn’s face grimaces for a second, “...something else.”

Jennifer, the youngest of them all at the age of twenty three, scratched her hair underneath the headband with a frown, “So they won’t make this easy on us.”

“Nope, doesn’t help they are all clearly younger than we are.” Evelyn says, “They are eighteen to nineteen at best, the captain actually called me old timer.” The collective gasp of surprise and disgust echoed around the empty gym, but this was Evelyn and Evelyn always had a comeback, “So I just told her to fix her diapers before talking to me and I don’t think she appreciated it.”

They laughed together, but Beatrice furrowed her eyebrows with worry with her chuckle faltering into silence, squeezing the edges of the bench they were seated with a frown, “They will come at us with a vengeance.” she whispers, “You said they had temperamental issues, they’ll definitely throw insults at us…or worse.”

“I’d like to see them try and pick a fight with us,” Shells laughed, “I know karate, I can put them down in seconds.”

They all stared at the blonde with confused glances, Carmen arching one eyebrow “Weren’t you like eight years old when you left karate class?”

“I still know the basics!”

Evelyn frowns, holding up a hand to stop the conversation, “We are not going to beat anyone up.” Shells deflated with a scowl, crossing her arms over her bust, “This is for charity, we are just doing this because Professor Richards was one of the nicest people while we were in college, this is just a favor to him.”

The other girls quietly nodded, Shells muttering a ‘this is some bullshit’ under her breath before they got back to practice. She couldn’t say if it was because Evelyn explained the opposite team would be younger than they were or because they got a bit pissed about the captain calling Evelyn an old timer - which was messed up since her and Beatrice are both twenty nine, so she took offense to it as well- but they were a lot better than one hour ago.

Fire in their eyes as they tossed the ball back and forth, no score in mind, but Beatrice’s side definitely won according to Shells. Their time was up when they heard people wandering inside, quickly grabbing their things to get out of there and give them space while still regaining their breathing.

Beatrice stepped out and immediately smiled, seeing the Blue Bronco parked not too far from there with Bradley leaning on the hood with his hands on his pockets. He tilted his head in her direction when he heard the sound of voices, smirking as he pushed his lower back off the hood, “Who’s that?” she heard Carmen ask, watching Beatrice speed up her step to meet Bradley halfway, “Wait, that’s Bea’s boyfriend??”

“We told you she was dating,” Shells added, trying to hold back a snicker when the three other women just stared wide eyed, “Why the shock?”

“God, good for her,”Eliza commented, “She deserves someone better than that prick.”

“He’s really tall,” Jennifer whispers, still staring at Bradley and Beatrice, “And big,where did Bea find him anyway??”

“At the Hard Deck, he’s an aviator.” Evelyn said, she knew the three women had no malice in their questioning and no second guesses if Beatrice deserved Bradley or not. They were just genuinely surprised, and happy, that Beatrice had someone. “You guys know she’s working there.”

“I mean, yes,” Eliza adds, “But wow, what does the Navy give their pilots? I expected them to be…I don't know, skinnier.”

Meanwhile, Beatrice leaned up to kiss his lips with a little smile, completely oblivious to her friends chatting a bit farther from them, “Hey, gorgeous,” he coos, “How was practice?”

“It was fine!’ she replies with a smile, “I’m a bit sore but it’s okay, I just need to get used to it again.” She turns her head to where her friends were, seeing they were all in a circle talking amongst themselves Evelyn looks back at Bea, giving her a smile and a ‘go on’ motion with her hand, signaling she didn’t have to stay. The brunette nods, waving them all goodbye as Bradley takes her bag from her hands, tossing it on the backseat before they get inside.

Beatrice sighs, frowning at how sticky she is thanks to sweat, pulling her ponytail up into a bun to cool her neck a bit more. When he drives them away from the open gym, his eyes dart to the left with a furrow of his brows. He didn’t know if he was seeing things, but he was sure he saw the same red truck from the supermarket back on Halloween on the opposite side of the street, parked with its windows up.

Something inside of him made him keep his eyes on the truck by the rear view mirror until it disappeared. Now, he could be very wrong and it was just a coincidence that a similar truck was parked close to an area where Beatrice would be, but the back of his mind told him to keep that truck’s memory fresh in case he’d need to.  Again he chose to not tell Beatrice, not yet at least, seeing it would only make her feel nervous about coming back.

He couldn’t see the plate numbers from where he was, but he noticed there was a bulldog decal glued to the trunk, a simple white one of a bulldog growling at the viewer. Bradley moved his gaze away when they were far enough, trying to shake the uneasy feeling when Beatrice talked to him about the game and the team they’d go against. There was a pang in his heart when she said the other team called Evelyn, a twenty nine years old, an old timer. “Ouch,” he touches his chest, “What does that make me then?”

“They were just stooping low, Roos,” she says, laughing at him, “The girl wanted a reaction out of Ev and she just told her to change her diapers before talking shit.And if I’m completely honest you look nothing like your age.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean, Leo is one year older than you and he had a bit of a breakdown when I told him how old you were.” she says, shrugging, “So you look a lot younger than you are.”

Rooster chuckled, puffing his chest as the words hit his ears, straightening himself on the seat. That was an ego booster if he ever saw one, he couldn’t lie. He had a giddy smile on his lips as he repeated the words over and over in his head, “I’m flattered.” he says, dropping one of his big hands from the wheel to her thigh, rubbing the fabric of her leggings as he drove them away. 

After taking a quick shower once she got home, she couldn’t help but take a good look at her bare reflection. Normally she wouldn’t do that, but she’s been noticing how easier it has become after a few months, having someone like Bradley being so…interested, certainly helped.

He called her a goddess. Never would Beatrice describe herself as one, she could call herself pretty, but a goddess? Her damp hair framed her face, water droplets sliding down her neck to the valley of her breasts, disappearing on the curve of her stomach. While she hasn’t changed much physically - she still had her soft stomach and hips- Tiff’s class certainly gave her more muscles than she thought it would.

Her thighs were firmer now as did her arms, but she still remained the same as she was even before she joined. Beatrice bit her lower lip, running her fingers to a fading hickey on the side of her neck, twisting her body and seeing that the one on her left buttcheek was disappearing as well. 

She smiled however, even if her cheeks reddened with the memories of these past days or how Rooster decided he’d spend most of his leave with her, in her house, even bringing some of his stuff to sleep in. And he loved her. He loved her without any shame within himself. She cupped her own cheeks, feeling the warm flesh touch her cooling palms, closing her eyes with a smile.

It was a dream come true. Something people said a girl like her would never get unless she changed her body. But he got interested in her, with her body like this! God and he was so, dare she say it, insatiable in a way she had never had someone feel for her before. It’s the way he’d rake his eyes down her body, or how he’d kiss her neck or how he’d pick her up in his arms during love making. When he talked to her before they went to the wedding, about how he didn’t want her to doubt herself around him, she was surprised she didn’t cry.

Maybe that’s why the confession came out like it did, from both of them, she felt so relieved and happy with him. She wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world. With one final smile at her reflection, she slipped on dark jeans, a white t-shirt and a red and green flannel before she walked out towards the stairs.

She blinked in surprise seeing him at the bottom of the stairs, supporting himself on the railing and smiling up at her, “I’m sorry,” she said softly while her feet padded down the steps, “Did I take too long?”

“No, I just wanted to be here when you walked out.” he says with a grin, letting go of the railing to pick her up, supporting her ass on his arms and carrying her down the rest of the way. She laughed, holding herself upright by hugging his neck, thanking him once he put her down, “You look very comfortable.”

Beatrice smiled, the sleeves of her flannel fell over her hands - just how she liked it - before she pulled the sleeves up to run her hand through her hair, “I am. I really needed a shower, especially after today.”

Rooster followed her to her kitchen, where she opened a cabinet to pick up a glass and fill it with water. Beatrice blinked, seeing he was just leaning against the wall, staring at her in silence, “What?” she asks with a confused smile, watching him shake his head with a little grin.

“I just like looking at you.” he murmurs, loving how her cheeks immediately redden and she picks up her glass of water, “Because you are just so pretty.”

“Oh my God, stop.” she giggles, looking away from him only for Rooster to step behind her, tugging her close to himself from behind. She looks up at him with her lashes fluttering, “You just like making me blush.”

“That I do, I won’t deny it.” He finishes his sentence by pressing a noisy kiss to her lips, “You still up for going out?”

Beatrice smiled brightly, “Yes! I haven’t been to an amusement park in years!” she says, when he suggested the two of them went earlier that morning she couldn’t hide her excitement. She always loved amusement parks, it was always so fun for her…also when you have a large family, it’s good to have options of what to do when it comes to entertainment. 

Truth is, neither had he and while he had a bit of a distaste when it came to clowns, he couldn’t help but think that’d be a good time for them to spend together. Plus, it was Wednesday, so it wouldn't have a lot of people.

-

There were a lot of people. 

Rooster and Beatrice watched with wide eyes as the crowd moved about the amusement park. While not a huge park, it still had attractions that called people’s attention like roller coasters and a ferris wheel and several stands with food or prizes. 

Beatrice pursed her lips, her hand clasped to his as she looked at the people walking by through her sunglasses, “Well,” she begins, “It’s not so bad, right?”

“It’s not, no,” he says, leading the two ahead. He really thought that there would be less people, if not because it was the middle of the week, because the weather was getting colder. But alas, neither of those prevented people from coming. “Where do you want to go first?” 

“I don’t mind!” she smiles, getting closer to him “Let’s just walk around a bit.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says, bringing her closer to him to press a kiss to her scalp, his arm draped over her shoulders as her fingers played with his. Sure there were a lot of things to do and games to play, but they weren’t in a hurry.

He had a fourteen days leave and god damn it he’d enjoy it however he pleased. And if he wanted to spend it at an amusement park with his girlfriend, he’d do so. He did however flinch when he saw a clown giving balloons to kids not too far from them, subtly trying to avoid the colorful man and hoping Bea wouldn’t notice, but she did, turning her head up to him, “You don’t like clowns?”

Bradley just kept the clown within his line of vision, memories of when he was a little boy and had the unfortunate luck of finding the It miniseries by accident. He had never really recovered from the fear, even if it was small now, part of him was still hesitant about approaching the jolly entertainers, “Not really.”

Beatrice smiled, hugging his torso, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” she says, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jawline but didn’t stop walking when he turned them away from the clown, going farther and farther until the man disappeared from their view. 

He smiles, kissing her scalp one more time,“Going to protect me from harm, are you?” he joked, but he didn’t expect Beatrice to look at him right in the eyes with her face firm, telling she’d always try her best to. God he loved her so much. 

But her attention went somewhere else, her head tilting up when she saw they were approaching the ferris wheel, “Oh wow!” she says, stepping closer to the silver and blue ride “It’s huge! Can we go? The ferris wheel was always my favorite ride!”

Bradley just nodded with a smile, that only got wider when they got in line and she kept looking up. There was something about Beatrice being so excited about stuff that warmed his heart a lot, it was so endearingly genuine, like she wanted to enjoy every second of it no matter how mundane it’d be.

They entered one of the round cabins, sitting next to each other, with Beatrice immediately looking behind her to watch the wheel move up as she lifted the sunglasses to her hairline. “I love this.” she whispers, sitting on her knees as they get even higher, her happy gasp when they could see the horizon - the blue turning into purples and pinks as the sun went down - was one of his favorite sounds, “It’s like we are flying….I-I mean, not that we are– you know how it is to fly, I just mean we are very high.”

“I know gorgeous,” he says, leaning back on the seat to look down to the ground, where the people turned into moving colorful dots the higher they got, hooking his sunglasses on the collar of his white tee. Their cabin stopped on top of the wheel, “Why is this your favorite ride?”

Beatrice is still looking ahead when she says it, a wistful smile on her face, “I dunno, I just like this a lot. I was never one for roller coasters or intense rides like that…me and my nonna would come to the ferris wheel and just spend time here quite often.” she giggles, “Sometimes we’d try to sneak back in line to go again, but never really worked.”

“You two seemed very close.”

Beatrice’s smile dimmed and she sat back down on the soft pleather covered seats as she looked at him, “We were.” she says quietly, “I don’t know, she had a very young soul and always said to live life to the fullest. One time, she picked me up from school and took me to a spa.” she chuckles softly, reminiscing, “Then we went out for ice cream and she brought me home past curfew time. She did tell my parents, but they thought I was with her at her book club.”

Bradley’s own gaze softened when her voice lowered volume, he could identify the pain in her eyes easily when talking about her nonna. “When I was a kid,” he begins, startling her out of her sad thoughts, “My mom and I used to go on the bumper cars. It was dingy, clearly dangerous and there was rust everywhere, but it was so fun. We’d always use the blue car because it was my favorite color.”

Now it was her time to soften her gaze at him, smiling sweetly, “She sounds amazing,” she whispers, “She seemed to be a lot of fun.”

Bradley smiles, “She was.” but then inhaled sharply, scratching his jaw - he still remembered the last image of his mother was of her lying on the couch watching tv - “It’s been…a few years since she passed.” he got home and she wasn’t moving anymore, he couldn’t even call the ambulance with how much his hands were shaking. 

Mav? He couldn’t call Mav. He was alone now, God he was so alone. He was alone and scared and he wanted his mother back and his father and Mav– a soft touch made him snap out of his thoughts, Beatrice’s thumb rubbing his cheek.

She just looked at him with an worried gaze, before she engulfed him in a hug, pressing his face to her shoulder while her hand caressed the back of his head, “It’s okay Brad,” she whispers and he feels his shoulders easing the shuddering and his own breathing calming down, “It’s okay.”

He hadn’t even noticed he was shaking, nor that he was breathing hard, nor that there were tears coming out of his eyes. He just wrapped his arms around Bea’s waist, clenching his eyes shut tight while trying to calm down. He was reminded of how Beatrice told him he made her feel safe and… he noticed that she made him feel safe too. Normally he’d go through these moments alone, in his room, sometimes in his office because he didn’t want anyone to know it, but it felt so good to have her with him.

His heartbeat slowed down and his mind drained out the dark thoughts of what he could’ve done, what he should’ve done, why wasn’t he faster and why hadn’t he paid more attention when she started showing symptoms. His mind only had the soft shushing of her voice and the smell of lavender. She kept caressing his hair, gently combing the golden-brown strands with her fingers, the soft fabric of her flannel shirt reminding him of a blanket with how soft it was, “It’s okay,” she repeated, “You are okay.”

He was okay. He wasn’t alone anymore.

Bradley inhales her perfume one last time before he pulls his head up, his hand coming up to wipe his eyes but she’s faster. She brings the sleeve up to her hand, gently dabbing the tears away from his cheeks “I’m sorry,” she says “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” he’s shaking his head but she continues, ‘I-I didn’t mean to-”

“Bea, stop,” he holds her hand, sniffling to himself, “You don’t–don’t have to apologize. You really don’t.”

“But–”

“No, no,” he sighs, “You couldn’t have known this would happen.” she still looks worried, her own eyes shining with tears as she fidgets with the ends of her now damp sleeve, “Bea…look at me,” she does with much hesitance, her eyebrows curved downwards and big green eyes glazed, “I’m serious, I’m not mad at you…I…” his own words felt stuck to his throat, so he tried to regain his thinking process, “...I’m usually alone when this happens.”

“Alone?” Beatrice frowns, “Brad…”

“I know,” he chuckles sadly, leaning back against the seat and rubbing his hand over his face, “Yeah…fucking sucks. But it’s not your fault, it really isn’t, okay? I know you didn’t mean to…I just remembered a lot of stuff I hadn’t thought about in a while.”

She still didn’t seem convinced if her expression was any giveaway, pushing herself away from him with a deeper frown. Bradley knew, he knew she was beating herself for what happened and overthinking on how that would affect how he saw her.”Gorgeous,” she says nothing, nor moves, “Gorgeous look at me.” she shakes her head, biting her lower lip hard with her fingers clenched together so tight he could see them turning pale. “Bea,” he scoots closer, grabbing her clenched hands in his, rubbing her fingers to bring the circulation back, “Bea, I am not mad at you.”

She gives him a suspicious side glance, “I’m not, I swear.” he brings her hands to his lips, kissing her soft skin before he places her hands on his cheeks just like she does on her own. He keeps her hands there, noticing how her shoulders slowly relaxed and her worried gaze moved back to him.

“...are you sure?’ she asks quietly, looking at him by the corner of her eye.

“I am very sure.” he says, still keeping her hands on his cheeks, “You didn’t know, you made an innocent comment.”

Beatrice looked away from him then returned her gaze, “...okay…” she murmurs, “If…if you are sure…” Bea said quietly, their bodies jolting a bit when the cabin finally moved back down. He stepped out first when they reached the bottom, offering her his hand to which she hesitantly took, keeping her eyes on her shoes or around herself. 

Stupid girl, stupid girl…tsk tsk tsk. Can’t you keep your fucking mouth shut? You’ll lose him, you’ll lose him forever now. You did it. 

Beatrice closed her eyes briefly, letting Rooster guide them through the crowd as she tried to calm herself down now. She hated thinking that her words triggered something out of him, even if it wasn’t intentional, she didn’t want to repeat it. Blinking her eyes open, her vision sharpening to her surroundings, she noticed they had stopped walking and Bradley was looking at her, “...I’m fine!”

“You are blaming yourself.” he says softly, “For something that wasn’t your fault.”

She tries to reply but she’s only able to move her mouth without words coming out, her fingers digging on the fabric of her flannel shirt before she just nodded mutely. She didn’t agree it wasn’t her fault, but she did agree she was blaming herself.

Bradley sighs, taking her to the side of the Haunted House, leaning against the green and purple walls with his hand still holding hers, “I’m serious when I said I wasn’t mad.” she chewed her lower lip again, “I haven’t talked about my mom for a while, you couldn’t have known.”

“But I should–”

“Be careful?” he suggests, “When talking about my mom? I don’t want you to do that, Bea.” she frowns, looking at their joined hands instead of his brown eyes, “I like talking about her, I love talking about her and I wouldn’t want anything more than to talk about her with you.” he got closer to Beatrice, wrapping his arms around her in a hug, her closed fists pressed against his chest as she stood immobile, “You are my girl, you are the woman I love…I’d want to share about her with no one else but you.”

Beatrice made a sound against his chest, then tilted her head up to look at him, looking to where one of her fingers was following the leaves design on his shirt. “...okay, Brad.”

“Okay?” he arched one eyebrow, “For real this time?”

“For real.” She looks up at him with a tiny smile, making him sigh out in relief, kissing the top of her head before he pulls back from the hug. She does feel a bit better, the angry gremlin like voice in the back of her head disappearing until there wasn’t anything else. He brings her close to his side, regaining the same position from when they got to the park a few minutes ago.

The sun was setting and the families in the park were switched now by couples and groups of young adults. The temperature also dropped, making Bea snuggle closer to Bradley and then blink up at him, “How are you not cold?” she asks, looking at his short sleeved Hawaiian shirt, with surprise. 

“Well, someone called me very hot once, as I recall.” he says, smirking down at her and her blooming red cheeks, “So I don’t care much for cold.” Bradley leans down to kiss her head yet again, his free hand sliding into his front pocket as they walk without any hurry through the rest of the amusement park.

Neither of them felt like going to the other rides, honestly they were just happy to walk around. With what happened earlier now in the back of their minds, they thought about enjoying the night before it got too cold for them to stay out.

However, they did have a lot of fun at the games of skill, with Beatrice winning a large elephant plush she’d definitely give to Bianca and Bradley winning Beatrice glowing rings that would run out of battery the second they stepped out of the park. But she did kiss him in thanks either way.

Now they were both sitting on the hood of his car, sharing a huge pink cotton candy as they watched the people walk into the park they were minutes ago. She let the sugar melt in her tongue before speaking, “You know what was my favorite park food?” he rips another piece of the cotton candy with a questioning sound, “Candy apples, not caramel apples. The red ones with the sugar layer around them.”

“You mean the fucking rocks that taste like apples and are meant to break your teeth?” he laughs, then slaps his hand over his heart. “Also, ow? How the hell do you think they are better than caramel apples?”

“I mean, caramel apples are nice,” she smiles at his offended ‘nice??’, eating another piece of the artificially colored sugar cloud “But they lack the crunch.”

“You can put literally anything on a caramel apple to make it crunchy.”

“Sure but then you lose the taste of caramel.”

Bradley huffs, ripping a huge chunk of cotton candy and shoving it into his mouth, “Caramel apples are far superior babe. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to greatly disagree with you.”

Beatrice giggled, bumping his shoulder playfully before offering more of the sweet treat, “We’ll agree to disagree then.” She taps the heels of her boots together as they sit there, tilting her head up to the sky to see the stars glinting above their heads. Once they are done with the cotton candy, Bradley tosses it on the trash can as if it was a basketball. The stick flips in the air before landing inside with a metallic ‘twang’ and her boyfriend fist pumps at the victory.

Beatrice’s smile widens as she tilts her head at him, moving closer so there was no space between them. He lowers his arm so it lands on the expanse of her thigh and his head turns so he kisses her forehead, his mustache tickling her scalp when he does so, “You know, I noticed we had dessert before dinner.”

“Would cotton candy even be considered dessert?”

He tilts his head to the side, “True…caramel apples would be considered dessert since they are so much better than candy apples.” he purses his lips with a smile, giving her an amused look.

“...I’ll ignore what you said so I can ask you if you want to have dinner.” she giggles, “Do you want to have dinner?”

“Hell yeah,” he pushes himself off the hood, then turns around to pick her up by the waist and lift her up before she could do it herself, “I’m feeling…tacos.”

“Tacos?”

“Quesabirria tacos to be exact.” he says with a grin, “They are so fucking good. There’s a food truck that has the best quesabirria tacos I’ve had in ages. Ooh, or al pastor too. Maybe some chicharrón too if I feel like it.”

Beatrice blinks at him with a confused smile, “That was the smoothest Spanish I’ve heard.”

Bradley grins, “Cariño, hablo español.” he says with a shrug, enjoying how Beatrice stared at him with wide eyes and her face turning a violent shade of red, “¿Qué? Soy un hombre lleno de sorpresas mi amor.” he leaned down to press a kiss to her parted lips, his poor girlfriend looking like she forgot how to speak, “Come on babe, do you want tacos or not?”

Beatrice blinked her shock away, then followed Brad inside the Bronco still digesting her boyfriend spoke Spanish as fluently as if he was a native speaker.

He was indeed full of surprises.