#sisterly chronicles

[haunted-xander]

XBC3 au pt.4!!

Last one for now but!!! It's the duo :) Do Not Seperate

[alleycatchitchat]

TROLLS BAND TOGETHER SPOILERS

SO I WATCHED TROLLS BAND TOGETHER!!! MANY FEELINGSS! INCOHERENT!!!

I have SO much to say and think about this movie (positive) buuut I need a few days, or maybe weeks, to process... but I made some notes while watching just to chronicle the emotional journey I was experiencing, and wanted to share! There are SPOILERS here, please PLEASE do not read if you don't want to see spoilers!!

Ready? Ok:

"Let's play some rummy! But I won't let you win, because I play for the money" i think im in love

BRIDGET WEDDING JUMPSUIT FUCK YEAH 😭😭

"I can't remember all my suitors, Grissie" yes you go girl. you're powerful and amazing and people love you, don't ever forget it

apparently poppy casually refers to branch as her boyfriend and that's normal now. i'm (choke) gonna need (sob) gonna need a minute here guys

love that floyd signs his letters "the sensitive one" like yeah babe pretty sure your brother knows who you are no need to specify

sweet dreams IS featured in this movie!! omg im so happy you have no idea. i saw somewhere that velvet and veneer performed that song and it's my favorite ever and i was SO freaking excited to see it featured in one of my favorite franchises but i couldn't find it when the soundtrack came out so i thought it was fake but its not im so happy

peppy how many more dark secrets are you hiding?? he was so straightforward in the first movie but now it looks like he's just gonna keep pulling bigger and weirder hidden drama out of his sleeve as the franchise progresses. not necessarily a complaint just something i noticed

floyd is branch's favorite brother CONFIRMED

floyd! the sass!! ok he's DEFINITELY related to branch and also i think i love him

FLOYD SWEETHEART BABYGIRL DONT BE SAD I CANT HANDLE THAT

“Branch? One word. KEEPER”

Wait but how can floyd be my favorite brozone member when bruce is also so wonderful

I can also totally see the family resemblance between branch and bruce when they simp over their girls

I KNEW peppy was gonna be talking to mr dinkles i knew it i knew it

Also just so happy to see them acknowledge the events of the original movie. Don’t think bridget and gristle were even in TWT?? And the trolls’ history with the bergens in HUGE, and something that they shouldn’t have just written out of the story like that

They’re going to FLUSH floyd?????

Yes clay grandma got eaten try to keep up

Floyd and branch hugging THROUGH the glass is everything i ever wanted and also killing me slowly and painfully

I mean i guess its diamond not glass but you get the idea

“Its fine. we’re not gonna press charges”

Anna is unfrozen with the power of sisterly love but short, male, and blue

Do i like veneer now? What’s happening?

Wow. branch has come a long way since the first troll movie, and i didn’t know how to feel abut that because i was so nostalgic, but seeing him happy and confident like this makes me feel so at peace. yess i know he’s a fictional children’s character what of it

[jedimandalorian]

Dear Sabezraites,

Today the Prophet of the Church of Ezrabine has obtained another of the sacred texts. I am referring to the Star Wars Rebels Visual Guide: Epic Battles.

Although the book’s main focus is on the many battles from the first two seasons of Rebels, the book does reveal important information about Ezra Bridger’s relationships with his fellow Ghost crew members.

For example, Hera Syndulla is a maternal figure in his life.

But, you may be wondering, are the heretics correct in their interpretation of Ezra’s relationship with Sabine as being sibling-like? Nay, I say unto you!

Is she his teammate? Yea. Is she his reliable partner in battle? Yea. Is she his friend? Well, let’s ask Sabine. “Sabine, did you say that Ezra is your dear friend?”

I digress. There’s no mention of anything sisterly or sibling-like here.

In addition, Ezra and Sabine have this glorious two-page spread devoted to their relationship:

It chronicles Ezra’s attempts to impress the girl he fancies and his jealousy of anyone who catches her attention. It describes Sabine’s perception of Ezra evolving from that of an annoying kid or little brother to someone she admires and really cares about. They have a strong partnership and devoted friendship developing at this point in their lives which could lead to something more when they are older.

Also, since we now know that Sabine’s Loth-cat Murley reminds her of Ezra, here are some interesting Loth-cat facts:

And finally, here are some nice pictures of our favorite duo to enjoy.

Keep the faith, Sabezraites. Their song has not yet been written, and I will ship them until it is and beyond.

I have spoken.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - Jan 28-Feb 3, 2024

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA | 🔹Submitted by creator

BLADES OF LIGHT & SHADOW

Blades MC Fanart 🎨 by @lilyoffandoms

Lost & Found 🎨🔹 | Mal Volari x f!human!mc by @cashweasel (C: @storyofmychoices

Tightrope ✒️🔹| Tyril Starfury x f!human!mc - @petalouda85

BLOODBOUND

Gaius Augustine x MC Fanart 🎨🔹by @gaiuskamilah

CRIMES OF PASSION

Full CoP Masterlist week ending Feb. 3, 2024

THE CURSED HEART

Kieran Fanart 🎨🔹by @artbyalz

DESIRE & DECORUM

D&D OC 🎨 by @lilyoffandoms for @noesapphic

Mad Love ✒️🔹| Ernest Sinclaire x MC - @noesapphic

THE ELEMENTALISTS

Helios - Emma's Arylu 🎨🔹 by @storyofmychoices

THE FRESHMAN SERIES

What's it Like Living With the Oretegas? ✒️🔹| Zig Ortega x F!MC by @choiceswithmika

HIGH SCHOOL STORY

Aiden Zhou x MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈 by @lilyoffandoms for @cadybear420

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Chronicles of a Crimson Summer 11 ✒️🏳️‍🌈🔹| Cassius Harlow x NB!MC - @aallotarenunelma

Pick a Line 1 ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Cassius Harlow x NB!MC - @aallotarenunelma

IT LIVES IN THE WOODS

ILITW M!OC Fanart 🎨 by @lilyoffandoms for @aallotarenunelma

LAWS OF ATTRACTION

Full LOA Masterlist week ending Feb. 3, 2024

MULTIPLE STORIES

Guinevere, A Courtesan of Rome, Endless Summer, Getaway Girls, The Heist: Monaco

MC Fanart 🎨by @gaiuskamilah

Slow Burn, LoA, ShipWrecked, WTD, Surrender, CoP

MC Fanart 🎨by @cassiopeaicorvus

OPEN HEART

Full OH Masterlist week ending Feb. 3, 2024

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You - Part 5✒️| Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis - @alj4890

Side by Side (Series) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @ownworldresident Chapter 9: Renewal

Single Again ✒️🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

Vancross (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 22: My Way Back to You

WAKE THE DEAD

Brynn 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Brynn (Zombie) 🎨🔹 by @lilyoffandoms

The Morning ✒️🔹| Eli Sipes x F!MC - @jerzwriter

Sisterly Advice ✒️🔹| Brynn Archer, F!MC - @dutifullynuttywitch

Wake the Dead Fanart🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Zombie Queen🎨🔹 by @lilyoffandoms

[basic-bitch-alkali]

the pandava quintet! it's a little similar to percy jackson? but it's hindu mythology instead of greek! and it's so good.. found family!! (the reincarnations of the pandavas) and the sisterly bond!! there's romance too but like the familial bond >>>> it's middle grade but still so fun

you probably might have read this already but and then there were none by agatha christie I love it sm

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo. I love them your honour

a good girl's guide to murder trilogy (ik that these are considered "booktok books" but trust me they're good and they di not deserve to be insulted that way)

the lunar chronicles! (4 books) the first book is cinder which is basically cinderella in beijing who is a cyborg! the whole series is based on these 4 girls who are like the fairy tale characters but so so good in like a sci fi ish setting?

a series of unfortunate events (13 books) the Netflix tv show is amazing, neil patrick carris as count olaf was the best decision ever

miss peregrines home for peculiar children

the land of stories (again middle grade but it's good)

the inheritance games (there's a love triangle unfortunately but the mystery is good)

lockwood and co (netflix cancelled the show after 1 season I'm so angry) actually even I've only read the first book but I will be continuing the series!

sorry ik it's a lot and you might have read some of these already😭 but these are some of my favorites! if you want you can check out my goodreads which is linked in my intro post and see my 'want to read' shelf (I would recommend six of crows too but it's popular so I think you must have read it)

OH MY GOD ILY SRSLY, THANK U FOR ALL THE BOOK RECS!!

I'll check it out!!

yess i have heard of it, have the book too but my frnd is borrowing it for the moment but when she's done with it, imma read it

ohh i wanna buy that so badly but my mom will KILL me after reading the title lmao, maybe after a few years i can buy it

i've read them already and god do i love those books, i read the first one in like a day? and i was at my hometown, and i originally brought that book for my frnd, but being the bookworm i am, i read it myself, and the very next day i went and brought the next two cuz i couldnt wait to read the next parts

ohh yess my frnd told me its really good

the series is just 🤌🏼 perfection

ohh i loved the movie! gotta check out the book

ohh

that is in my list<33

ohhhhhh @demigoddess-of-ghosts really loves it too, imma check it out

its ok<33 im really glad u took ur time and wrote this ask srsly, ily<3 (SOC is in my list currently)

[cynical-tuba]

Leo's friends from Florence. They came with him and his Domitor Dante to Oxford

Marco - Leo's childhood friend, recently made Ravnos ghoul to keep some immunity to the plague. He's excitable, a tough guy but a big softie.

Alessio - recently turned Ghoul to Leo's previous Domitor, Dante, Alessio is a man who hopes to prove himself as an artist. He has a passion for painting.

Nicolo - not a ghoul, just your average swell Italian brother. (Except he is anything but average) the man lights up a room wherever he goes. He fills the world with music and his loud voice.

Peonia - not a ghoul. Just a terrifying lyre player. Doesn't speak a word of English, and the chronicle takes place in England. She is alluring and knows exactly what she wants and you couldn't pry it out of her hands.

Calla - a ghoul but we don't know who she's bonded to as if yet? So I've left it blank. Lute player, reserved. Obsessed with Dante's Her dog Bella supportive of Leo and the others in a very sisterly way.

✧ Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Part 3 ✧ Part 4 ✧

[bohemian-nights]

Moonglow

Word Count: ~7,818

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Nettles

Warnings ⚠️: Age gap relationship; minor smut

Description: Chronicling the events of how the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen fell in love with a small unlikely dragonrider named Nettles 🐑🐉

AN: Requested by anon 👤

—————————————🐑-———————————

130 AC-Maidenpool  

She had tired herself out. They had spent most of their day riding upon Sheepstealer and Caraxes, scanning the Riverlands landscape below. Looking for signs of his traitorous nephew. The boy had hidden himself well enough. 

She hadn’t even bothered to make the appearance of leaving his bed chambers tonight. Or rather last night he supposed. His Netty had simply collapsed into his lap once the maids cleared away their dinner. He had to carry her to their bath. Wiping off the grime and stress of the day from their flesh. His sweet girl.  

They lay a pile of limbs in the center of his beds now. As naked as their name day. The late autumn night breeze from the open window he had thrown open cooled their once-heated forms. A thin sheet made from silk from Qarth lay draped across them. Leaving little to the imagination. The pale moon glow reflected off dark coils.  

They’d have to awaken in a few short hours. Take to the skies to renew their hunt. He could wake her now. Take her again as she had him. His insatiable girl. Having done so twice now. It was he now who had a craving for her. A craving to wake her from the land of dreams to slack his desires.  

The old prince reached a hand down to her heat. Resting his hand, one calloused from too many battles to name, upon her thatch of curls. Her sensitive bundle of nerves peaking out among them. She was still wet from their lovemaking earlier in the night. Slick mixed with his seed.  

Some of their combined spend had leaked out onto the sheets below. The maids would no doubt gossip amongst themselves when they saw the state of his sheets. Exchanging giggles over their chattering.

Netty fidgeted in her sleep at his touch. He shushed her. Placing a kiss on the top of her black mane. Resting his lips there and stroking a hand down her spine which seemed to quiet her. She nuzzled deeper into his neck. Spoiled thing. His sweet girl needed rest. She had more than earned it. 

He was proud to say that Netty had developed quite an appetite. On that, he had stoked. She had come to him a timid little thing. Oh, she was quick to point out his faults, but she was still a girl.  

An ill-used girl who had to grow up before she was ready. The streets of Driftmark, of Hull, and Spicetown were less than kind to the innocents of her ports and lanes. The naive and pure-hearted against a world of depravity. Quick to remedy the former.  

If she had been another woman, another person mayhaps it would have broken her. Lost to the world around her. Become like the rest. Mindedness and numbness or sinked to their cruelty, but she was Netty. She had her will. She had survived it and found her way to him. A light in the sea of darkness. 

She had come to life under his patient tutelage and her inherent curiosity. Weary at first. Not scared, no. She was braver than most. Fearless and cautious. A lifetime of disappointment had taught her to be so. 

Cautious of him. He remembered how she avoided him. Back at Kings Landing. It felt as though it were half a century ago, but less than half a year had passed since then. Since their fates had been tied to one another. Or some would call it that, but they were firmly attached. That could not be cut without harming the other. That they would not wish to break. 

You would not make much note of her. Baela’s letter arrived from Dragonstone to Harrenhal. Detailing the result of Jacaerys' experiment. His war effort. From that ghostly ruin, the old prince had his first glimpse into her existence. His first taste of her. Salvation comes in the strangest of casts.

An odd choice in a friend, but his eldest had lacked sisterly companionship since her twin had been sent to the Vale. While Netty was not a replacement for Rhaena, Baela had found a kindred spirit in the young dragonrider. 

She's a small dark thing with quite a mouth upon her when need be. It is like she sprouted from the earth. You’d not think that she would be able to claim a dragon, but she’s tamed Sheepstealer. She’s guarded, and reserved, yet her face can not tell a lie. She is the most wonderful company father. He had tossed the letter under a mountain of others and put aside the contents in preparation for battle. 

Daemon had indeed landed from one battle to the next. The first time that he laid his eyes upon her was atop Visenya’s Hill. Perched on dragonback overlooking the swamp of King’s Landing. She appeared well within her element on her brown mount. Amongst the smoke and ruin of a city under siege. A beacon. 

Upon a closer inspection, his eldest had been true in her assessment. Nettles was a ragged foul-mouthed girl. She had not used her blood to claim her skinny dragon. Not with the blood of old Valyria, she had not one drop of it. That much was clear. Her skin was the color of the earth. Her hair an inky midnight of ringlets. Her eyes were as dark as obsidian. As rich too. She was not a dragonseed, yet that had not stopped her.    

No, Netty had claimed her wild mount with her own cunning. Like all the children from Driftmark  to Dragonstone, she had heard the tales of the first dragonriders and put them to use. Except, unlike the Rogue Prince's ancestors she had not used whatever perversions and acts of vulgarity they had. 

A cleverness lacking in the rest of the dragonseeds, or at least not thought of for they had blood. Nettles had to make up for her blood deficiency, but she was more than her lack. One could blind themselves into thinking that there was nothing else to her. That on account of her birth she was tainted. Lucky in that she had claimed a dragon where others even with the blood of the dragon had failed. Or rather she had made her own version of luck. 

No matter how much cleverness she possessed, it was no match for a dragon. Blood was the only payment. Blood or some trick. Some sorcery. That had to be the answer. How else could she claim and take such a wild beast?  

One could not be deceived by her common looks. At least, that was all anyone would think. All they would see. All they would look for. For her bastardly nature. For her low ways. All that the sordid prince himself had seen and thought. Not looking for the maiden in plain sight. 

A girl. Scarcely older than Baela and Rhaena. A young woman. Shown so little kindness yet her heart was not frozen over. Who managed to carve out some life for herself with her persistence. Who deserved more than what she had been handed. 

She beguiled him. Stirred his blood. Invoked his curiosity. Enraptured him in her spell that she did not know that she cast. Swept away by her very being. Why wouldn’t she? She was a rare stone. Lost at sea to land upon his shores. No one had dared open her. It was an unassuming rock. So very small. Easy to miss, but if one were to catch sight of it, if they had taken the chance, dared to, they would find inside that rock a jewel. 

It was hopeless not to notice her. Black hair in a sea of silver, blondes, and browns. Brown-eyed and brown-skinned. Sporting a scar across her nose from what one would think was some ill-gotten misadventure. A marker of her previous life. An impossible girl. She stood out from court. A court that was morbidly fascinated by her. 

Her presence commanded it wherever she went on account of her visage. Of her abilities. It was not in admiration. No, she was treated as a pariah. A spectacle. An oddity. Something to be poked and prodded at. Her existence was a contradiction to everything they knew. She should not exist and yet she did. A worrying feat to those at court and beyond. 

The small brown girl shied away from it all. Apart from the newly appointed heir of the Driftwood Throne, Addam of Hull turned Addam Velaryon, who she had seemed to form an attachment of some kind with, the girl kept her distance from those at court. From him. She did not miss his gaze among the nobles and royalty of court. A prince's gaze. A rogue prince. His reputation preceded him. 

A girl like her, Nettles was well within her rights to be wary of him. Had every right to be. Of what it meant to be the subject of his interest. He was always watching her. An oculus of violet meeting brown a million times over. Within the training yard where she seated herself on a bench to watch. Occasionally taking up a bow or some throwing daggers to practice herself. Never a sword. She disliked the feel of them.

In the Great Hall during those days of endless feasts to celebrate their taking of the capital he sat two seats from her. Throughout the halls of the Red Keep he would find her. She was always the first to turn away from him. To walk past him without a word. Not out of shyness, but for what was her own good. Preservation. Guarding herself. It was what she knew best. The only way she had known until then. 

He ventured into her domain. Try as he might, Daemon Targaryen could not get her from his head. She haunted him. Day and night. Waking. In his dreams. A siren call without her meaning to. 

“I’m not your bastard.” It was what the small dragonrider insisted, even though she need not say it, when he trailed after her. Joining her during a mid-morning visit to Sheepstealer. The early days.

They had not said a word to each other until her skinny beast had been fed. Unlike the other dragonseeds mounts who took to the confines of the Dragonpit without fuss, the wild dragon had to be kept in an open field that once housed Vhagar. He attracted quite a crowd of peasants, children in particular, who both rider and dragon alike happily entertained.

Daemon watched Nettles slit a lamb's throat with Dark Sister. The prince had wordlessly offered up his sword for her use. He did not know what possessed him to do so. Only a curiosity to see something, his sword, in her small brown hands. Something of his to be a part of her. Even if he had forgone naming the outright need to see such. 

She hesitated. Her plump little mouth parted. Revealing the slightly crooked set of white teeth residing there. All too soon accepting his offer. No words came. Her lips locked, forming a thin line as she reached for his outstretched offer. The tips of their fingers briefly collided. A mere brush of pale battle-hardened skin upon young supple flesh. A small spark that lingered. Imprinting itself on his skin. Left to wonder if she had felt it too as he cleared his throat. 

It was a simple act. Clean in its barbarity. Most certainly not witchcraft. Natural. Calming Witnessing the bond between rider and dragon as the small girl softly spoke in the common tongue to the beast. 

Neither paid him any mind. One could get lost in it. Forgetting about all their problems if only for a moment. A sight Daemon could not say he had witnessed till then. One that would not leave him as the moons waned. 

“I’m not one of you.” She was the first to break the spell that fell. “I’m no one from nowhere. My ma as well.” Her warm brown eyes hardened by a margin. A speech well rehearsed. “Whoever spilt his seed inside her wasn’t more than a common sailor.” Nettles turned around to face him. 

She held her head high. Craning her neck up to him. Her gaze could never quite turn to stone. A  glimmer of something else lay beneath it all, but a determination was written on her sable face streaked. “I know who I am. I know what I come from and I know where I’m going. I won’t  be your whore, my prince.” 

It was his face that went sour as if he bit into a lemon. Setting to stone. “You need not worry girl.” He sneered down at her.  Daemon could feel his face heating and wondered if its color reflected his irritation. If she could see how she rattled him. “I am not in the business of taking ill-mannered children into my bed.”  Overreaction born from a blow. Nettles had figured him out with one dark glance. Unlocked truth's bitter taste. She could not tell a lie and snuffed them out equally. 

Netty had not meant to be cruel for the sake of cruelty only for her mere protection, but shame to say Daemon wasn’t a man well accustomed to frankness. Most certainly not from someone like her. Narrowing her eyes she wordlessly dropped his now crimson-stained sword onto the earth. She wasted no time climbing upon her dragon's back and commanding Sheepstealer to take her into the skies. Leaving him in that field red-faced and ablaze. 

When his annoyance evaporated the encounter served only to embolden him. Resolve him. He had gone to her with the intention of possession. Wanting to take her and rid her from his mind, but that was no longer possible. He would not be able to crack her by mere possession. He would not wish to, for there would not be a Nettles if he did. She embedded herself into him. He would not be satisfied until he had her. 

The Rogue Prince's watch continued on, but his growing fondness for the small brown unlikely dragonrider was not the sole occupation of his mind. State matters clouded his days. Council meetings became a disagreeable affair. Ideas were spouted out that would incite riots, discord, and discontent. The appointment and reward of men that were unfit to hold what they gained. They had won the city, but they were far from winning the war or the hearts of the people low and high.

Opinion held high sway when there was another to claim the throne. An army and three dragons. The days of his brother's council and court had been more orderly than these proceedings. An ordeal in which he could find neither joy nor amusement. Leaving them in a foul mood. 

His mood was fed by one Addam of Hull. A laugh. He had made her laugh. A laugh that never ended. Clutching at her belly as she placed her other hand on the boy's pale bicep to steady herself.

If he were to go to her. To place his hands upon her cheeks he knew he would feel their warmth. Her elation. She reveled in his company. Free and open to express the range of her emotions. Her smile was crafted by him. 

In the blink of an eye, Daemon found himself before the happy pair, sword drawn in one hand. Knocking the boy face down into the dirt. A tan hand clutching at his bloody nose. Broken by his fall. He curled into himself as he was pummeled in the ribs by Dark Sister’s heel. 

The sound of her voice resounded across the yard. Pleading. Begging him to stop. He was deaf to her cries. To his ears, it sounded as if she were calling out to him from underwater.  He saw red take the form of a boy. It took Corlys and three other men to pull him from the bastard. 

Nettles stormed from the scene. Her mask of indifference towards him had turned to horror. He followed after her. His blood was up as he grabbed her arm. Sheltering them in a dark alcove before bending down to envelop her in a kiss. Pouring himself into her. Dragging her into his depths. Netty. He breathed the pet name into her honey mouth. She was too sweet, far too saccharine to be named any other. No, she was his. 

She had almost given in. Receiving his passions until his right hand wandered from her cupped face. Traveling under her skirts. Desperate to find her waiting core. The caress was returned with a bite. Forcing the Rogue Prince to release the grief-stricken woman. He had finally managed to extinguish the light from her eyes. Her palm reached up. He had been struck, but she breathed as if she had run clear across the castle. “Mayhaps I’m not worthy to warm your bed, but I pity you, my prince.” The sting of her words long outlasted the slap. “You are a bastard, but I believe even you are capable of more than the cruelty you show.” 

Daemon conceded that then and now it was a dangerous game of cat and mouse he played at. Endangering her. Making her a party to his wants. Far too dangerous. Especially when her person and his interest in her person did not go amiss from two pairs of violet orbs. A queen and her mistress. 

Rhaenyra was a covetous woman by nurture. Pampered from a young age. Raised to sit upon the Iron Throne despite her sex and the trouble which she found herself in on account of her impetuous nature. Over indulged by himself and Viserys. She was not familiar with compromise. Or one not in her favor. 

He had not visited his niece-wife’s bed in an intimate capacity for moons. Long before the messy business of this tiresome war. She had given birth to a girl. Their daughter. Her long-awaited daughter. The babe never drew breath. She had named her Visenya. More dragon than a child. 

Another blow was served in the shape of his bastard stepson, Lucerys death at the hands of his ill-tempered nephew. Then Viserys their youngest boy. Swept away in the chaos. Aegon was left traumatized by his escape and his younger brother's capture. 

Jacaerys followed his younger brother to a watery grave in the Battle of the Gullet. Another impediment was removed by intervention without the prince’s hand, but Daemon no longer had the taste for such plots. To mourn for one child and lose several others in a manner of weeks was a tragedy in the highest measures, but his wife pushed through. 

It was not like Rhaenyra to not rally her spirits even in the face of grief. She had a war to fight. Her losses had served to strengthen her resolve. However, it had served little to strengthen their relationship. 

One could not blame their lack of intimacy all on the children. Or the strain of battling for the throne. That would most certainly not be the truth of their situation. Even before the tragedies of war, whatever passion for the other had long since faded. 

Theirs had never been a great love, at least not a great romantic love. No, it was not a great passion that brought them together nor kept them, but they had a common cause. A cause that suited them and himself well. One he had admittedly lit inside of her when she had been but a girl. When his brother’s affections and favor had been bestowed on her. 

That had held them. That had sustained them, but it became increasingly clear as the war progressed the folly of their relationship. Born only from an eruption long ago set by the pains of a second son. A hunger. One that had overtaken everything in its path. Careless.  If there ever was a way to prevent this folly mayhaps they both would have been better off, but there was no way back now. That road was a broken thing. He had doomed them from the start. 

They made their concessions to each. A way forward into the murky waters. Rhaenyra not minded that he had rekindled his relations with Lady Mysaria. She would not say a word against the woman to whom she owed a great debt. The Lyseni whore was brought to court for both their benefits. The queen gained a mistress of whisperers and he a mistress. One trusted far more than she needed. Some things are better left in the past. 

The Rogue Prince bitterly regretted his decision to bring the White Worm to court and his bed from the moment she arrived. There was no love lost between them, however, she expected his complete confidence. Something he was no longer able to give. 

Where his wife was entirely a vain and vapid creature, Mysaria was an overly observant worm. In particular when it came to his activities and his lack of enthusiasm during their time together. Another folly to his ever-growing list of misdeeds. He had wanted relief from his torment. The very same comfort she had provided him when he last had known her. 

This time she had only brought misery. For that is what she had truly become. The years had not been kind to her, nor was she quick to forget the past or her tenuous position in his future. Her presence only served as a reminder. A reminder of what he truly desired. 

“Does my prince wish for another to join us?” My prince. The endearment, if one could call it that, whispered in his ear from the wrong pair of lips. The wrong cadence. All the more apparent when Daemon recollected the words uttered by another tongue. No matter how clipped her speech was, the Rogue Prince would prefer it over any. 

“A raven-haired girl? Young? Non-Valyrian? Dark? The look of Naath or the Summer Isles perhaps would please you.” A smile was plastered on her white face. Her eyes told another story. They were cold. Devoid of any life. “Netty is a pretty thing Daemon. An exotic feral beauty, but she is intoxicating.” A dagger to his underbelly. Grazing his flesh. Twisting its edge. 

She had offered him his spread of whores before, but they were no good either. He had difficulty performing following that kiss. He thought of her taste. Her lips. Her pert little mouth. He thought of what the rest of her might taste like. Another set of lips. Her cream. Pulling himself from the whores cunt. Taking his cock in hand. Imagining her soft little hand in replace of his.

In a few short tugs upon his member, he emptied himself on Misery's pale backside. Relief eluded him yet. Picturing her once more. Hardening with a strained groan at the thought of what his sweet girl might look like painted with his seed.  

There was no way to hide it even if he hadn’t made himself look like an old fool. She would know. In some regards, the whore knew him better than his own niece-wife and he knew her. That smile chilled him to the bone. He threw her from his bed. Ordering her never to return to it. 

Reckless. It was his way. His temper had served him well in the past, but his hot-blooded nature would only serve to endanger her. Nettles. A bastard girl with common blood. A girl who had survived the streets of Driftmark to claim a dragon. A girl who had barely lived. Tis her head that would be mounted upon a spike outside the Red Keep with one wrong move. 

Rhaenyra was a self-absorbed woman but even she could be roused from her slumber. The old prince had seen the looks his niece-wife had thrown the young dragonrider. The tight-lipped smile at the feast to celebrate the dragonseeds. The way she and her imp sniggered at the sight of her. The way her pale eyes darkened when she thought no one was observing her.  One word. One whisper from a worm. One order from an envious queen and, Netty, his Netty would pay for his sins. 

A private meeting was called to mule over her fate. Past the endless drivel of political appointments. Brought forth by the mistress of whispers who took pleasure in his agitated state  at the proceeding. 

“She is an intelligent sort of creature.” Netty was referred to in a manner as if she were cattle. He had to bite his tongue to withstand cursing at the lot of them. “More so than Hugh and Ulf.” That at least could not be denied. The two were arrogant as they were low in wit. “One like her has to be, I suppose.” 

His dear wife placed her pudgy hand upon his. Daemon placed a pat on said hand in placation before shaking her off. Slipping out from her grip, a set of violet eyes that matched his own blinked to keep from embarrassment. Her complexion and disposition betrayed her 

Her words dripped with distaste. “But one has to ask the question, Lord Hand, who would marry her?” Rhaenyra’s tittering resounded around the room. Echoed by Bartimos Celtigar. Her fool would have joined in on the jape, but the dwarf was noticeably absent from council. “We’d have an easier time marrying her beast off than her.”

Another round of sniggers could be heard before proposals were put forward. The girl needed to be married. Some phantom lord would have her for his wife. Netty lacked the proper breeding, even he would not argue that, but she was young and no doubt fertile. In possession of a dragon. What she was deficient in could be made up for in other areas.

One of Celtigar's runts mayhaps take her hand in marriage. They had always been in want of a dragon even if it came with a stain. Addam Velaryon was put forward by the Sea Snake himself. He would not soon forget his outburst in the training yard as he eyed the slightly younger Valyrian man. He had long since apologized to the heir of the Driftwood Throne, but suspicion played behind the old lord's jovial veneer. 

Addam was a decent young fellow in truth. He would not harm his Netty and the two might even find some felicity in the union, but his status as heir of his “grandsires” seat was a precarious thing. The remainder of Corlys’ nephews were not likely to give over their ancestral seat to a bastard no matter if they shared blood, much less two bastard whelps, one of which would further pollute their noble house.

The most unfortunate of them all, Dalton Greyjoy was added to the hoard. Rather gleefully by Mysaria. Echoed by the queen herself. The Red Kraken. A bloodthirsty savage.  Little more than a butcher, but he had served their cause well and had merited his reward.

Dalton Greyjoy. A raper with twenty-two salt wives. Each despised him more than the last. He would not object to taking Netty for his bride. He would not mind even if she were not a maid. Nor her bawdy tongue. She would be his lady wife if he accepted. 

She would be the one to bear his children. To warm his bed. He would fill her up with his rotten seed and she would birth him son after son until her body gave out.  He and that fetid set of islands he called home would snuff out her light. The thought of it, the images his mind conjured, boiled his blood. 

“The girl is little more than a child.” Daemon interrupted the council's musings. Inaction would no longer do. The violet eyes of old Valyria turned to him as countered their proposal.  A worthy excuse. One that no one would think anything of. What better than the truth to tear apart their dreadful suggestions? 

“She isn’t fit to marry anyone. Lest you wish to find her lordly husband burnt in his bed and her off to the Gods knows where or her beast in the hands of the likes of Dalton Greyjoy.” Celtigar, Gerardys, and Corlys were in reluctant agreement with him. The girl was too wild. Untested. A bastard girl with no ties to them. Too important to just hand off to some lord. There was no telling what she may do or what purposes her new groom might use her for.

No voices of descent were heard from any others present. Not even Rhaenyra nor the mistress of whispers could reject it. The matter was put to bed and another put forth. Maidenpool. A job for two dragonriders. 

His late brother's spawn had become a plague upon the Riverlands. Razing hellfire. The dragonseeds Ulf or Hugh were proposed to accompany him in the defense of Lord Mooton’s seat. Thick as thieves the pair were. Bastards in nature as well as name. Dull brutes. Dull company. There was merit in splitting the two, but he would not leave her. 

Abandon her in the capital without a soul to advocate for her. Care for her. True she would have Corlys. The Lord of the Tides seemed to have some regard for her, but his loyalty lay with his blood. If Nettles ever became a danger to himself or Addam’s position, he would not hesitate to cease his protection. Kings Landing as always remained a den of vipers.

There was of course the option to send Nettles away. To send her home, but she had neither a home to return to nor would she ever be allowed back to what was left of Spicetown with a dragon in tow. Unsupervised in the middle of a war or otherwise. There could only be one course of action.

He went to her. The first time in a fortnight to that open field. Reviving the ritual of the lamb’s slaughter by offering his blade. She snatched the sword from his outreached hand, remaining mute. He could take her anger, but he would need her to understand.

Daemon was the one to break the strained accord. “We leave for Maidenpool on the morrow.” Netty was not a fool. She made her protests known. The other dragonseeds mounts were larger than Sheepstealer. She had spirit, but in a fight against a skilled swordsman and the largest dragon in the known world, neither she nor her mount would be much help to the old prince and his blood wyrm. 

“I can not leave you here.” He would not mince his words. This was not solely for his benefit. This was first and foremost for her safety. “I know that you are fond of Addam Velaryon,” she made no move to contradict him, “and he of you, but he can not protect you. Neither will Lord Corlys. He will abandon you the moment his protection becomes an inconvenience for him.”  He had done so with his young foolhardy nephew those years ago. A bastard girl left in his care would fare no better. 

“And you, the Queen’s husband, will protect me?” The girl had turned away from him. Taking an interest in Sheepstelers hide. Her eyes were downcast. She thought him no different. No better than the others. Worse in fact. His loyalties were in conflict with one another and he had not done anything to recommend himself. To suggest that he would defend her. Protect her. 

That he saw her as little more than a useful distraction. A lustful prince who whispered sweet hollow words in dark enclaves and desolate fields. He would have his fun and toss to the side afterward. That was the face he had shown her. “I would not become a burden to you the same as any other lord?” 

“I would let you feed me to your beast if it meant your safety Netty.” The truth. Daemon Targaryen had resolved himself to his duty. He did not care if he sounded like an old fool. If he was one for her, he did not care. He had made his bed for her. He would keep to it even if she did not join him. 

She laughed. A belly ache of a laugh. Her face a light. Shining brighter than the sun’s glow. “Sheepstealer wouldn’t like that I’m afraid.” Still clutching her belly. Wiping a stray tear with the back of her hand. “He isn’t very fond of the taste of pig.” He joined her in jubilation. A much-needed moment of levity. 

“Do you wish that Addam of Hull was in my steed?” His thoughts had turned to the round of laughter she let out in the training yard in his company. The lightness of their conversation dimmed somewhat. 

Daemon Targaryen was and would always remain a possessive man. He would never apologize for that. It was infuriating that the bastard boy from Hull caused her unadulterated elation, but it was a pretty sight. A sight it seems the prince was capable of bringing on. Tenfold judging by the way she beamed seconds ago. Something he yearned to see more of. He supposed he was growing overly affectionate in his old age. He did not mind it. Not for her. 

Netty shook her head in reply. Taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Her gaze traveled back to Sheepstealer who seemed as restless as his rider. “Do you wish for your wife to be in mine?” Stuttering as she swallowed down her nerves. “Or a younger version of her-”, he pulled her to him. Leaning down so that they were in each other's eye line. He could see every freckle. Every mole that dotted her little face. Whatever she had to say quieted. 

They stood there for a spell. The wind howled around them. Just them. Drowning out all the rest. Whatever storm awaited them, they were shielded from it in each other's arms. “No.” A single word. It can have more power than a thousand. An action told more than it all.

She looked so very small in his hold. So very young. Wideyed. Reminding him of her youth and his years. He could see her reasoning. On the surface at least. They were both determined willful women, but that was where their similarities ended. The two were as alike as fire and earth and Daemon was glad of it. 

“No Netty.” The affectionate nickname slipped from his lips. She did not correct him this time. Simply nodding her head. Nuzzling into his touch as he began to trace the scar that marred the brown skin across her button nose. “I wish for your company.” Just yours. Only your little company will do for me. 

The first moon that followed at Maidenpool could be described as being on the very edge of felicity. The pressures of the capital dissipated. Contentment reigned. They had fallen into a painstakingly crafted routine. Broken only by Lord Mooton. The meddlesome fool. 

They had spent every waking moment with each other. Days and evenings alike. Dinners, riding upon dragonback scanning for the half-blind prince, accompanying him to the training yard, or meetings. He ventured to teach her some words in Valyrian after he had found she was literate in the common tongue.

“Madam disliked dolts.” She imparted little on her girlhood, but half pictures. The manse where she grew up. Where she escaped seeking more than a life of degradation. “My girls are better served literate Nettles.” Her voice grew low when recollecting her earliest memories. Not ashamed of her circumstances. For she couldn’t help what she was born in, but they were not fit for a child with so much light in her. The old prince welcomed the chance to give his Netty new memories. To give her everything she had not yet should have. 

Where he went, she went. Where she moved, he followed. Netty was at his side in sky and in castle. The only time they spent apart was when they rested their weary heads for the night. Separated only by one mere door. He requested that the lord place them in adjoining bed chambers. Thankfully the man hadn’t given much thought to their sleeping arrangements, but their host and his household were a prying lot. 

The lord could not keep from giving his own opinions. Fulfilling his own curiosity. A question. Why had they not split up while searching for Prince Aemond? They would cover more ground if they rode apart. Surely they could be back in King's Landing triumphant if they did. A much-needed victory. 

Surely his wife was in need of him. They had a war to win. Surely the Rogue Prince was needed back in the capital. Back to his queen instead of wasting his time here. Let the matter be done with so that he may return to her. 

An innocuous set of observations, but a bitter reminder of why they had come here. Why a prince had brought one bastard girl with him. A reminder of what they could not be to each other. Why did he waste his time with her? Why when this would all end? It was just a bit of fun. This was all a farce and Nettles wanted no part in it. 

She was halfway to where their mounts rested when he caught her. Flying would be the death of her in that state. Neither would the weather be helpful. Storm clouds gathered overhead. Breaking into a drizzle mirroring her clouded-over glower. “Netty.”

His Netty had made a valiant effort trying to outrun him. Going so far as to chuck her new leather boots at his head, but he caught her with ease when she was slowed down by the damp earth. Sweeping her in his arms. Shushing her as she began to kick at him. Determined to ride out the storm with her. 

“I am not a plaything for your amusement Daemon!” Daemon. The first time she had spoken his name and she wanted to run from him. Netty would have thrown herself on the ground or found the nearest object, a rock, to hurl at his head, but she remained firmly in his grasp. Keeping her from hurting him or herself.

“Let me go, you old man. I’m not yours to keep!” He turned her around to come face to face with a frightened child. His Netty gone. Replaced by a girl who had kept her safe when no one else had. “I don’t need your protection. You have a wife and your brood of children. Go to them! Go protect them!” He called out her name, but she refused to calm down. “Leave me be. I don’t need your pity!”

“I do not pity you.” He shook her lightly to stop her babbling. Taking her hands in his so that she could not claw at him. “I could split us up and we can be back in King's Landing by the end of the moon.”

Daemon had stalled. He would not lie to her. Yes, it was in part for Netty’s safety, but he had grown weary of the war. Of the endless council meetings which provided more complications than solutions. Of Rhaenyra and her stubborn conceit. Of Mysaria and her endless weed of deception. 

Here at Maidenpool with this small brown dragonrider, this impossible girl, he had not known such contentment. Not since he could recall. Not even in the early days with Laena. In Pentos with her and their girls. 

He had been well satisfied. Away from the schemes. With a morsel of bliss. Of love, but a taste wouldn’t do. The old prince knew that he would not find this again for he never had before. 

She too bloomed in his company. Her shy smiles had been replaced by laughter, mirth, and merry. Regular meals and proper rest had done well. A glow affixed to her brown face. Her old rags were long discarded. The cut of her new garments accentuated her shape nicely. No longer hanging off her slender frame. 

They breathed freely. Spoke freely. They held nothing from each other. Slowly Daemon was finding himself unable to go on without her. He had and could not go back to a life without her. What good was mere blood or a name? An empty life chasing after an iron throne that did little but rot its occupant’s away. 

“Say the word and we can be rid of each other but I do not wish to part from you.” If it was up to him they would remain in each other's company. With no end in sight to speak of. “Neither do I believe that you wish to leave my side.” Netty managed to squeak out a small no in affirmation. Still, she wriggled in his hold. He pressed on. The pads of his thumb caressing her wrists  to calm her  “I am where I should be.” They were well past the point of half-truths. There was no point in lying to one another or themselves. 

“You are not my plaything. I do not wish for you to be my whore. I love you. I am in love with you Netty. I love you, you wild thing.” She quieted. Stopped her squirming. Her dark eyes went wide. He was able to bring his forehead down to hers. “Every day when you are not in my arms I am in agony. That is why I keep you.” 

He had left her mute when he finally pulled a fraction away. Stunned to silence. Having to carry her back for she had gone limp in his arms. All Netty was capable of was staring at him with red-rimmed eyes. Half scared, half something unnameable. 

Dinner that evening was spent in solitude. A morose affair. Netty had locked herself inside her chambers once she had been deposited back into the safety of them. No sounds came from the other side of the door as he sat gazing into his chamber's fire. A silent taunt. The old prince wondered if she would sneak from her bed to take flight. Away from Maidenpool. From him and off into the unknown. 

In truth, he did not know how long he sat there with his thoughts. His conviction, however, strengthened in the flames. He would not let her leave. Away from here. Away from him. He wouldn’t let her. She was something entirely his. Not the realms. Not belonging to someone or something else. His. 

The old prince would play out Rhaenyra’s war, but he would not give up what he had found. He would not lose Netty. He would be lost without her. Above all others, his first duty had become to her. 

Daemon made to go after Netty. Lunging from the chair. The knob of the heavy oak door turned. Stopping the prince A brown little face appeared. A figure clothed in her nightgown and the dark robe he had gifted her. She closed the door to lean against it. Not moving. Still. Merely resting. One brown hand upon the knob while wringing the other. Their eyes met. She opened her mouth a dozen times before he took the first plunge. 

“Could you not sleep?” A silly question, but she granted him with a reply, a nod of a head. Lovely dark coils covered half her face. The light of the fire reflected off of them. Casting her head in a halo. A pretty sight. A sight he would never tire of. 

He motioned for her to join him by the hearth. She made her ascent. It was not a long walk for she broke into a run. Leaping. Netty pulled herself into him as he caught her. Tugging him down so that their lips met. Her little hands were greedy as they roamed his person. He was no better. They could not resist. 

By the time they were finished with one another, they had become a warm heap in his bed. Bare skin against skin. Her pebbled nipples against his chest. Connected at their cores. His half-hard cock still tucked within her sopping heat. Her cunt spasmed around him, sending the most delicious shockwaves of pleasure up their spines on occasion. Radiating throughout their love-worn bodies. 

She would not have him leave her and he was in no position to argue. His silver head rested upon her dark coils. A hand gently stroked up and down the arm she had thrown around his middle.

Soaked. Satisfied. Mouthing at the pocket marketed red scars on his neck. He did not know where he ended and she began. “I love you too, old man.” Breathed into his skin as she began to drift off. He thought about taking her again then, but he let her rest. Joining her in dreamland. Well rested for the first time in moons.

It was a hard battle won, but well worth it. His most worthy fight. For her, for his impossible clever girl, got his netty he would fight a thousand battles. Again and again. Not for blood nor for title. For her. 

For a day more with her. For something as unassuming as an hour can feel like a hundred years if it is spent in good company of one’s choosing. The moons spent at Maidenpool certainly felt as if they were an eternity. Theirs. Entirely so. 

The old prince was drawn back to the present by a little whimper. He should let her rest, but he would not. Rest was for the penitent and the patient. Daemon Targaryen was neither of those things. Not in the least. Not when it came to her. Not at that very moment. Not with his impossible girl.

He could not resist her. He would never deign to try. Nor pass an opportunity to ensnare her into bliss for she deserved that and more. Planting another kiss into her hairline. A pale calloused hand renewed its descent between her damp curls that framed her cunny. Drawing slow circles into her little pearl. 

His lovely girl began to stir. Burying herself into the battle scars of old that lined his neck to enjoy the warmth of him. Her brown eyes fluttered open with a breathy moan of his name. Waking from dreamland to hazy pleasure. Melting into his touch as he replaced his fingers with his length. Sinking into her. Capturing her lips in the most tender of embraces. 

The hunt as well as sleep could wait for there were more pressing matters to attend to. He broke their kiss. Netty whined but he soothed her with a thrust that rendered a cry of ecstasy. A whisper played upon his lips. One that would usher them into the ardor that awaited at dawn's doorstep. “Nyke emagon jorrāelagon hen ao issa ōños.” I have need of you my light.

Ao3 Link:

[sapphire-weapon]

Let's imagine that while Leon was unconscious, Ashley gave him artificial respiration. God, how cool it would be if Capcom made a dlc for Ashley and Luis and added it to the scene in the laboratory, then no one would dare to say that this is a platonic relationship with a flavor of brotherly and sisterly love. what a pity that capcom are such lazy assholes.

This may not be the slam dunk you think it is, because Krauser gave Leon mouth-to-mouth in Darkside Chronicles.

I'm just saying.

[dancingqueennintynine]

The first time I read this book, I was in middle school and it quickly became one of my absolute favorites. Even after nearly a decade (and too many rereads to count) my love for The Crystal Snowstorm (and the following Letzenstein books) has not diminished.

The Letzenstein Chronicles follows the happenings of a small European country on the brink of revolution. Catherine, an adolescent visiting her estranged Grandfather the Grand duke and ruler, finds herself caught in the crossfire of not only the revolution, but the feud within her own family.

The relationships between the characters are genuine and natural. In the author’s note, Ms. Trevor explained when she writes stories about difficult topics for children (such as political turmoil and revolutions) she tries to focus on the adventures of the characters foremost and it works beautifully here. These are friendships that I could see happening in real life. These characters, Catherine, Yolande, Edward, and especially Rafiel LeMarre have stuck with me the way Luke Skywalker, Samwise Gamgee, and Katniss Everdeen did.

Our heroine, Catherine, is another highlight of the story. She would rather live a quiet life and get to know her newly found family than be involved with the politics her Grandfather has ensnared her in. However, she still strives to do what she can to help even if what she does seems very small. Catherine does fail at times and feels hopeless and frustrated but she does not become apathetic.

I also enjoyed seeing Catherine, a very quiet girl at the beginning, develop unique friendships with different people. She comes to love and care about Con, Yolande, Edward, and Raf, but each relationship does something different for Catherine and the story. I will give special notice to Catherine and Yolande’s relationship because it is a sisterly friendship between a young girl and a young woman, something I do not see very often in fiction.

My only complaint (if it could be called that) is, I would have liked it if Countess Imelda, the sister of our antagonist Duke Julius, had been a bit more involved in the story. She mostly acts as a messenger for other characters. However, Catherine and co. have more than enough problems and as I reiterated all the other characters are very developed and this by no means ruined the story for me. Overall, the Crystal Snowstorm is a solid first entry in a series that satisfied but also left me curious for the next installment. I would recommend it for children (and adults) who enjoy historical fiction and character focused stories. I feel it is appropriate for kids 10 and up, but this is subjective to the individual child’s reading level.

[megamains]

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Princess Academy by Shannon Hale (2005)īefore Tiana found success through her keen, hard-won business skills, before Merida saved her kingdom through shrewd diplomacy rather than marriage, before Anna and Elsa made the idea of a prince an afterthought by saving each other with sisterly love-and before Anna found her own magical talking rocks-there was Shannon Hale’s not-princess Miri, who earned a Newbery Honor with her use of business acumen, diplomatic finesse, and magical-rock-talking to unite the quarry girls of Mount Eskel’s village first in an existential battle against the strict courtly tutelage of Tutor Olana, and then in a battle for their lives against their wintertime entrapment by mountain bandits. It’s a gritty, pulpy, fun genre-romp that spans 15 books in 15 years.

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In the debut entry of the Dresden Files, 2000’s Storm Front, our gum-shoe wizard must solve a series of murders to avoid having the blame pinned on him-or becoming the next victim-all while trying to overturn his bad luck with women and his inability to pay his bills. consultant Harry Dresden-more Philip Marlowe than Albus Dumbledore. Jim Butcher layers fantasy elements on top of hardboiled mysteries, following magician-for-hire and Chicago P.D. Here are the 50 best fantasy books of the 21st Century: Nearly 150 titles received at least one vote, but we’ve narrowed it down 50 books we recommend without reservation. We’ve limited our picks to two books per author, and these books include entries in multi-volume series, standalone novels and a collection of short stories. This list boasts everything from Young Adult novels brimming with magic and violence to high fantasy epics chronicling war and drama. We’ve gathered Paste editors and writers to compile a list of our favorite books in the genre, ranging from high fantasy worlds with distinct systems of magic to simple fantastical fables to urban fantasies filled with characters ripped right out of own realities. If you’re looking for your new, favorite fantasy saga, we’ve got you covered.

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Many readers have worked their way back from movies like the Lord of the Rings franchise or TV series like Game of Thrones to their fantasy novel origins, seeking out new authors after devouring J.R.R. Rowling’s Harry Potter series ushering in an era of both publishers willing to take a chance on new fantasy writers and readers opening themselves up to worlds of magic. But the 21st century has been a particularly fruitful time of fantasy literature, with J.K. While fantastical stories have been around since before the written word, they’ve gone in and out of fashion throughout history.

[breathingwithdifficulty]

do you love me?

yes (no)

will you still love me when i move out?

yes (no)

will you still want to hang out?

yes (no)

will you call me?

yes (no)

are you lying to me?

no (yes)

[minty-the-demon]

“I’m an equal opportunities Driver! You’re both my partners and very dear to me.”

[cooliogirl101]

I saw your sunshine au and Uchiha Hisana au and I find it really amusing how it seems that as an Uchiha, Hisana is more sisterly towards Sasuke but as a Hyuga, Hisana is lowkey Sasuke's bully in non-massacre version lmao. Can I see more of sunshine au with Hisana's sass towards Sasuke, and him, always falling for it or get easily provoked? NGL, but sassy Hisana is really enjoyable in all aus especially in whatever body she's in. Thank you for taking your time to answer!

Not really a bully, more like...cheerfully annoying big sister figure lol. In her defense, messing with Sasuke is a lot of fun :P

He looked to the right. He looked to the left. The corridors were completely free of people, no one in sight.

So far, so good.

Sasuke took a deep breath, centering himself. There was a window straight in front of him, just twenty feet ahead, cracked open, curtains swaying tantalizingly in the breeze. He was so close to freedom he could taste it.

"Now or never," he muttered to himself before making a break for it.

"Not so fast," the Voice of his Nightmares said from behind him, right before he felt an invisible string around his left ankle jerk taut. An arm caught him right before he face-planted into the floor, and he looked up to see Hyuuga Hinata smirking at him, an amused glint in her eyes.

"You know, for an Uchiha, your situational awareness is kind of crap," she said conversationally, pulling him to his feet and ignoring his half-hearted attempts to shake her off. He scowled at her.

"My situational awareness is fine. You're just creepily good at sneaking up on people," he grumbled.

"Call it a talent of mine," Hinata said, not bothering to deny it. "Not that you made it difficult for me," she added, with a pointed glance at the cast covering his right leg. "Trying to sneak out of the hospital when you can barely walk-- this really isn't your brightest moment, is it?"

"What are you even doing here? I thought you didn't work Wednesdays," he complained, choosing to ignore that last part.

"Aww, you memorized my shift schedule? How sweet," she teased, poking him in the cheek. Sasuke scowled harder, feeling his face heat up, and turned his head away. "You're right though, I normally don't work in the hospital on Wednesdays. But with Sakura out on a mission, I figured I'd stop by and keep you company."

Sasuke glared at her.

"I don't need a babysitter," he hissed through gritted teeth.

"No, you don't," Hinata agreed, almost causing Sasuke to trip again out of surprise. "I, however, need someone to rant about the latest release of The Samurai's Lover Chronicles to, and since you're conveniently unable to run away at the moment, I've decided to volunteer you for the job." She smiled widely at him, grip tightening on his arm. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to catch you up on the first three books first so you're not lost."

"Don't look at me like that, they're really not that bad," she added. "Who knows? Maybe you'll even pick up a thing or two about romance."

Sasuke gave her a long-suffering look.

"You're punishing me, aren't you? This is my punishment for trying to escape."

"Don't be so dramatic, this is just one friend catching another friend up on her hobbies and interests, which happen to include trashy romance novels," Hinata replied.

"Yeah, right. This is a hostage situation," Sasuke grumbled.

"Tomato, tomahto," she responded, before pulling out a book from what Sasuke was pretty sure was some alternate pocket dimension that existed solely to make Sasuke's life more difficult. "Now, let me give you some background first, because otherwise you'll be completely lost."

"And what a tragedy that would be," he snarked. "Also, what you said before doesn't even make sense, because 'tomato' and 'tomahto' are completely different. Who the fuck even pronounces it 'tomahto' in the first place--"

"I do, that's who," Hinata retorted.

"Since when?" Sasuke asked, just to be difficult.

A muscle in Hinata's cheek twitched.

"Since now. For example: The tomahtos sure are ripe today. I'll take a basket of tomahtos. I'm going to shove a tomahto down your throat if you don't shut up and let me get on with the story," she said, tone shifting from 'annoyed' to 'imminent threat' in a matter of seconds.

Sasuke shut up.

[ettawritesnstudies]

Runaways: A WIP Intro by Etta Grace

Summary: When Cecilia disappears leaving the only hint that she might have been kidnapped by faeries, Hannah decides to take the search into her own hands. Armed with their father’s green coat, a steel pocket knife, and a red string tied round her ankle, she stomps into the first mushroom ring she finds to demand her best friend back. Soon she finds herself on a dangerous and extraordinary adventure, navigating between the Seelie and Unseelie courts and trying to find her way back home before dinner.

Genre: Portal Fantasy novel, middle grade - YA

Themes: Family, sisterly love and bonds, escaping evil

POV: Third person deep/limited, mostly from Hannah’s POV, present tense

Status: 3rd draft on hiatus until after I graduate because end of year is busy

Goal: 40K words, 12 chapters! My plan is to try to self-publish this story, so I can make all my rookie mistakes on a smaller WIP than Storge, and grow my author’s platform with a standalone debut novel before releasing The Laoche Chronicles! Hopeful publication date: Sometime in 2024!

more info on the world building and characters is under the cut! @wildswrites wanted to be tagged for the intro, but let me know if you want to be added to a taglist!

Main Characters:

Hannah: 14 years old, totally mundane human, and the oldest in her family. Clever, unconditionally loving, and protective. She’s got pure Underdog Fairy Tale Protagonist energy with a heaping side of Too Curious For Her Own Good.

Cecilia: Supposedly 10 years old, runs away into the forest on Halloween to find the Seelie court and protect her family from a horrible fate. She’s mischievous and quick witted, but likes nothing more than climbing into bed with her older sister to read stories long after the lights are supposed to be out.

The Taken: A mysterious girl with no name who attacks Hannah when she enters the faerie woods. She looks human, but wields vicious magic and answers to an entity called The Piper.

The Piper: A boogeyman, one of the unseelie court. One of those creatures parents invoke to convince young children to behave.

Background Info:

This takes place in a vaugely modern-day human earth. Hannah and Cecilia live in the countryside in an old farmhouse with their parents. They have a big garden, and woods in the backyard that are also home to a tiny hidden faerie realm. The Seelie and Unseelie courts are (broadly speaking) the benevolent but still dangerous, and actively malicious faeries respectively. They have an uneasy truce, but in the times when they did war with each other for power, the immortals didn’t want to die for the conflict, so they would steal changelings to do their dirty work, since it’s so much easier to let the mortals do that sort of unpleasant fighting. The faeries they leave in the child’s place act as spies and keep the humans from getting involved. The practice has fallen out of use for the most part, but bold unseelie still steal children occasionally for their own uses. Even though this great cosmic sort of battle is taking place in the backdrop, the story just focuses on the sisters.

Faeries have all the magic powers and wish granting abilities as the old legends and stories. Sometimes they’ll bestow magic unto a particularly exemplary human that finds them, but always beware of a hidden “catch.” These people are known as “powers.” This story takes place at Halloween and so there are cameos from different minor nature spirits and the aesthetic has a lot to do with the weather changing and fog on the fields and red leaves fringed with frost.

[archduchessofnowhere]

Historian Brigitte Hamann's and collector/photographer Werner Bokelberg's publication of slections of Sisi's cartes in 1980 and 1981 together demonstrate the mainstream historian's desire to "tidy up". In putting the photographs into the categories "court," "family," "beauty," and "artist," their primary goals were to creat order out of Sisi's "untidy" array of images and to focus on the content of the photographs (who, what, when, where), rather than to give any focus to the collector: "[T]he main problem [...] was the fact that the pictures were spread over 39 albums in an disorderly fashion [...] jugglers can be found next to ladies-of-the-court and writers" (Family Album 8). While readers may be grateful that Hamann and Bokelberg offer more historical contextualization, at times, their labeling is simply wrong. In addition, in order to fit other photographs into the dimensions of the photographic visiting card (4.5 x 2.5 inches), the authors cuy away parts of original photos. Crearly for Hamann and Bokelberg, Sisi's mix of sitters not only presents an organizational challenger, but also injures noble/bourgeois sensitivities of social rank and hierarchies of gender and class. And yet, chroniclers and biographers (including Hamann) offer ample evidence of Sisi's desire for a less hierarchical and sequestered form of existence as Empress: "She want[ed] to be able to talk to anyone whome she liked or was interested in" (Corti 73). She liked to shock the country world by attending smaller theaters and circuses rather than balls and state events, had close friendships with actresses at a time in which associations with them were considered immoral, and preferred to travel incognito, attended by only one or two ladies-of-the-court rather than the more appropriate royal entourage. During the 1860s in particular (the period of her collecting activities), she developed close, sisterly relationships with many of her women attendants, and she frequently had photographs made of herself in the midst of them, as if with family. Thus, not only does the work of the historian result in the tampering of evidence to fit publication dimensions and display, it also severs the collector from her collection, separating Sisi from emotional attachment and playfulness that her collection evokes.

Muellner, Beth (2010). The Empress Elisabeth of Austria and her ‘Untidy’ Collection. Women Art Collectors. Spec. Issue of Women’s Studies: An Interdisciplinary Journal

[crusherthedoctor]

Amy Rose

How I feel about this character:

In ye' olden days, I used to not like her that much, due to a few portrayals rubbing me the wrong way (mostly Sonic X, Battle and Chronicles), and many fanfics painting her like the most obnoxious yandere imaginable.

But sometimes, things change. And after going back to SA1 in 2012, I began to appreciate Amy for how she's meant to be, rather than dislike her for what she gets warped into.

She’s now one of my favourite characters. Talk about a redemption arc.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

At the risk of pissing someone off, I think TailsXAmy can be pretty cute... assuming they both grow up a bit beforehand, obviously.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Gotta love her sisterly relationship with Cream. But I also really like her friendship with Big and Gamma.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Insert obligatory “I don't give a single fuck about Sonamy” opinion here.

Aside from that, I get that her infatuation with Sonic is a major part of her character, and I'm not saying they need to get rid of it or heavily downplay it. But I've always found her other traits far more interesting, like her unwavering optimism, or how she interacts with other characters, or her interest in the mystical if her tarot cards are anything to go by. It's a real shame that she has so much going for her, yet is often simplified to “Sonikku!!!”, even in fanfics made by writers who apparently know better.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

Since SA1 ended with her wanting to become more independent, I wish SA2 (and later games) were more dedicated in following up on that.

Yeah, she was the one to convince Shadow to not be a dickhead, and she did break Sonic out of Prison Island despite Tails doing all the work, making it feel like they only used her for that scene so she could do something, but she does end up being out of the picture for a lot of it, even if that's mostly to do with her not being playable.

I suppose Heroes was actually pretty good in that regard... Too bad the part with her fighting Sonic over not marrying her had to be in the game, since that's the part everyone remembers.