#they are siblings and that’s all they ever will be to me

[save-a-forest-ride-a-bear]

Heya!!

So I'm a little obsessed with the secret relationship trope... i was wondering if you could do an Astarion x reader secret relationship but maybe during a fight, reader dies and has to be revivified? And Astarion freaks out, like he goes semiferal and histerical?

Maybe it could be during the fight with his siblings at camp so now Cazador knows he has someone he holds dear (even if Astarion doesn't want to admit it yet) which is what they were trying to avoid?

Thank you so much!!!!

🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ All I Want ❛ ✧

Featuring: Astarion x Reader

Not proofread!

# Notes: I'm not too good with drabbles but I rly like this idea so I decided to try! also no use of "y/n" because I'll be honest I'm not a fan of it lmao

It was his idea to keep the relationship a secret.

He knew how that sounded — like he was ashamed of his partner, like he didn't want anyone to know for the sake of his reputation. That wasn't true, and he assured them of it. It was simply a precaution, something to protect them both. Now that they arrived at Baldur's Gate and are closer to Cazador than ever, he couldn't take any chances. Not when it came to them, at least.

He wasn't used to this — caring about someone other than himself. It was always about his survival, but now he had someone else to worry about. Someone whose life was worth a lot more than his own. Someone he couldn't afford to lose.

So, he kept it a secret. It wasn't exactly easy to go about their day pretending to be nothing more than companions, friends at most. Ever since they got together, he realized just how starved he was for any kind of attention, any kind of affection. Having to refrain from touching them too much or being his usual, flirty self hasn't been a simple feat. But he knew how important it was that they kept things under wraps.

His feet were killing him after a long day of adventuring, from Wyrm's Crossing all the way to the Lower City. At least they managed to avoid some confrontation for today, so he had one less thing to complain about. They got settled in an inn and he managed to sneak out for a few seconds with his partner to at least get a good night's kiss. He wanted more, but knew that would have to suffice.

The others had already fallen asleep, but he remained tossing and turning. Something felt off. He wasn't sure what, but his nerves were on end, like his fight or flight response had picked up on something he himself hadn't yet. Perhaps that was for the best, as it allowed him to notice the sound of footsteps early enough to stand up and grab a dagger. His hand shook slightly, wrapped around the handle of the weapon as two familiar faces walked in. He felt sick. He knew what they were here to do.

"Get the hells away from me!" It wasn't quite a yell, but definitely loud enough to wake the others. He instinctively took a few steps back, trying to maintain a distance far enough to deceive his brain into believing that he was somewhat safe. "Peace, brother. We're here to take you home." Aurelia uttered somewhat gently, but it almost made him puke. Brother. Home. Just the notion of it made him dizzy with disgust. The Szarr Palace wasn't his home, and these goons were not his family — he was tired of playing along with this fucked up game of pretend.

It didn't take long for a fight to break out, despite his attempts at deception. He should've known Cazador wouldn't let him off easy. Karlach was the first to react, letting out a guttural scream of rage as she charged at Violet. The axe cut through flesh before the spawn could realize what was happening, getting stuck where it met bone. She screamed, but was soon silenced by another blow. While it was supposed to be lethal, she simply vanished into a cloud of black smoke instead of dropping dead on the ground.

Leon was next, aiming for the person who was closest to where he stood which, to Astarion's despair, happened to be his darling. The spawn's claws slashed their skin open, blood splattering on the floor as they yelped in pain. Astarion didn't think — he simply acted, pouncing on Leon only to drive his dagger through his heart one, two, three times, until he too vanished into thin air. He snapped his head back in their direction just in time to see Yousen sneaking up, grabbing them from behind and sinking his teeth into their neck. The scream, the way their eyes squeezed shut in agony and their hands clawed against the spawn holding them still was enough to make Astarion see red.

He hardly remembered moving. But he did remember the screams. Not from his darling, but from his brother, as he drove the dagger into the side of his neck and twisted it. He looked back at his lover again, but the dark cloud from Yousen obscured his vision. He didn't hear screaming anymore. Only his ears ringing slightly and the sound of laboured breathing from his companions.

When he could finally see again, he almost wished he couldn't. That'd be better than the sight of his beloved's body sprawled out on the floor atop a pool of blood, their empty, cold eyes gazing into his soul. He rushed to their side despite his shaking legs, stumbling on his way there until he fell to his knees beside them. He raised their head by the back of their neck, resting it on top of his thigh. He hardly realized he was hyperventilating, hands shaking violently as he cradled one of their cheeks in his palm. "No, no... You can't die. Wake up, damn it!" He choked out, his voice rising from a whisper full of disbelief to a screech of the utmost despair.

Karlach too rushed to their side, fumbling with her bag with quivering hands. "H-Hold on, soldier, I think..." She stuttered out nervously before cutting herself off as she pulled a scroll of revivify from the bag. She knelt next to the two and placed the parchment atop the corpse's chest. It glowed a bright white light, seemingly seeping into their skin. There was a deafening silence for a few seconds when suddenly, they woke up with a loud gasp, eyes widening as life was brought back into their being.

The pale elf didn't waste a second before pulling them into a hug, not minding the blood staining his clothes. He hid his face in the crook of their neck, only a small sob and whisper being heard from him. "Oh, thank the gods... Please, please never do that again..." He choked out before pulling away from the embrace, cupping their cheek and pressing his lips against theirs. He never felt that before. That immense sense of hopelessness, agony and grief. Not to this level, not of this kind — and he'd make sure he never felt it again.

However, as he pulled away from the kiss, he saw something in the distance. Aurelia, bleeding out on the ground, watching them seconds before she too vanished into the darkness. If he still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat out of sheer terror alone. Cazador knew. He knew about his spawn's newfound love. And Astarion would have to be a fool not to expect his master to take advantage of that fact.

[c-nstantine]

to be a muse

Description: Benedict meets a fascinating young woman

Word Count: 0.9K

Warnings: I think I made Benedict a bit of a himbo but that's okay. the reader is still black and even though she's charlotte's daughter, I made it so she's any skin tone which lowkey makes sense given how wild genetics work

Benedict stared at the painfully blank canvas of his family's drawing room. Hyacinth's and Gregory's laughter could be heard running about in the family's home. Kate and Anthony were doing god knows what, honestly, he felt like he was going to throw up from the love that came from the both of them.

"Brother, I fear I'm in a rut," Benedict announced while plopping himself down in between Colin and Eloise. He reached over and stole one of Eloise's bonbons.

"I beg your pardon," Colin said as he jolted awake from Benedict's sudden appearance.

"Nothing, and I mean nothing, has inspired me. Idle hands," He waved his hands in the air for extra effort.

"You are out of inspiration and you woke me up to tell me this," Colin tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes but nothing was working as Benedict yapped on and on about art.

"Yes," Benedict shrugged.

"Have you tried going to the museum? I hear there is a new exhibit. It might spark something for you," Eloise just wanted to eat her bonbons in peace.

"That's why you are my favorite, " He ruffled her hair before dashing off to find his coat before heading to the museum.

-

He stood in front of a painting for what felt like hours. It seemed like he was waiting for something to come to him, his inspiration. Footsteps shuffled around him, yet, Benedict remained unmoved.

"I find his work to capture the inquisitive nature of who he paints," A melodic voice came from behind him. He turned a saw a woman around his age with the most beautiful features. Delectable lips, and round cheeks, and her skin looked like it was kissed by the gods themselves. The gorgeous shade of brown, he had ever seen.

"You do? That is a refreshing perspective. My family thinks them all to be faces on a canvas," He probably should have addressed her more formally but for now he was happy to have someone share interests with him.

"They are but they are also so much more. Each brush stroke is an attempt to capture a moment. No matter how imperfect it may be," She looked at him with a small smile playing on her lips. His eyes lingered there a little long before dragging down the rest of her body. She did not have the clothing of a commoner. She must be a lady, he thought to himself.

"Are you a painter?" He asked.

"I am talentless in art, I'm afraid but that doesn't stop me from enjoying it. And what about you?" She shook her head and he noticed the bouncy curls that fell from her scalp. He was becoming more and more entranced by the moment.

"I dabble. I am not great enough for a museum. My siblings believe it to be my hobby," He admitted rather shyly.

"Yet. You are not great enough for a museum, yet. Mister?" She asked for his name.

"Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton," Benedict gave her a small smile as he introduced himself. She chuckled slightly.

"It has been wonderful chatting with you, Mr. Bridgerton, but I fear I may have to leave." She looked disappointed that their conversation had come to an end. Benedict looked up at the painting and began to speak.

"What is your name so I may fin-" He looked down and she was gone. She had disappeared into the crowd before he could finish his statement. He pushed to the entrance of the museum but there was nothing.

-

"All of this happened and you did not catch the lady's name?" Colin asked as he and Benedict made their way away from the mothers who all wanted their daughters paired with a Bridgerton.

"She was perfect. I only entertained Mother's idea of me coming to the ball tonight in hopes of seeing her," Benedict said while adjusting his waistcoat and smiling at some of the season's eligible debutantes but none of them were her.

"And if she's not here?" Colin asked, his eyebrows squinted and a bit concerned by the potential answer.

"I will simply cease," He deadpanned.

"Cease what?"

"To exist," Benedict said and watched as more and more people arrived at the ball. Even the Queen was in attendance, but someone far more interesting trailed behind her. 

"Stop hitting me. Mother, he's hitting me," Colin said as Benedict repeatedly tapped his brother's shoulder. Benedict's eyes were wide as they trailed the woman he met in the museum. 

"That's her. That's the woman," Benedict said watching her gracefully walk across the room. She was dressed in the finest silks and her curls that were wild and free earlier were pinned back.

"Well, that cannot be," His mother started. Her son could not have been talking about her. That would have been impossible. 

"What are you talking about? She is right there. Even more beautiful than when I saw her last," He noted her appearance before quickly bowing in the presence of Queen Charlotte. Sure, the family had her favor, but even they knew their place.

"Bridgertons, I do not think I have introduced my daughter. Princess Y/N, she takes after me in beauty of course," The Bridgertons turned and then bowed in front of the Princess who looked mortified.

"It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintances," She spoke softly as her gaze held Benedict's. He understood why she dashed away. The scandal of an unmarried princess wandering the museum alone. Especially, considering how long the two of them spoke together.

"A pleasure indeed," He would see her again. He had to find his muse.

Taglist: @flyestvenustrap@megamindsecretlair@blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon@lilbanas@certifiedloverwoman@melissa-ashe @hoyoooo @blckbarbiedoll idk if you guys wanna be here for this because it's a bit diff from my usual content but just let me know!!

[sugarwavelove]

Dearest older brother...?

Notes: woke up from my nap and wrote this off the top of my head. Some of this is based off my own personal experiences. Not proofread.

Content to be found: 100% PLATONIC, implied bpd and ocd if you squint, unhealthy sibling dynamics (lmk if there's more I should add)

You remember asking Sunday that question all too well. And boy, how did you regret it. 

“Is it ok if I call you… big brother now?”

You so desperately wanted to have a caring family, siblings, but younger naive you clung to the wrong brotherly figure. 

He and Robin had such a tight bond, and you, being an only child, envied them. So when you were invited to playdates, you enjoyed every second being with them. 

The fond memories of you and Sunday supporting Robin's dreams. Sneaking into the kitchen to grab snacks without getting caught. You three grew so close, you practically were their third sibling. 

But happiness doesn't last long. The more you all grew up and followed different paths, the more distant you guys became. Of course, there are still attempts to meet up, but it was difficult. Most of the time, you were left behind with Sunday, the man you called big brother. 

Could you really call him that anymore though? He made little effort to keep ties with you. Check in on you. You understand that him and Robin obviously had a closer bond. Therefore, he'd pay more attention to her, but you? It's like he was trying to erase you from his life. 

No. That's not right. He distances himself from you and lets you fall into loneliness. Yes, that's true. But then why does he keep coming back every time you're at your breaking point? 

“What's wrong? You can always tell me anything. I am your big brother, after all.” 

It's the same thing every time. 

He asks you what's wrong. You break down. He consoles you. Then leaves and the cycle repeats. And every time you refuse to talk, he'll manipulate your emotions to speak and cause you to break down even more. 

Why would a big brother do this to his younger sibling? 

You couldn't take the emotional hurt anymore. It's like he just sees this as a game. He always uses the big brother card on you knowing it's your weakness. 

Things get worse though. Of course they do. 

You caught news that Robin has been found dead. That can't be right. It can't. You loved Robin as if she were your actual sister. Why did she die?? 

So here you are. Walking to the estate where Sunday should be. Why are you even going to him? You should be distancing yourself and be grieving alone. As much as he emotionally hurts you, you still care about him. As much as he abandons you, you always come back. 

As soon as you make it through his office doors, someone aggressively grabs you by the shoulders and backs you up to the nearest wall. 

It's Sunday. 

He's shaking, breathing hard, clearly angry, but hurt above all. He rests his head on your shoulder, still holding you but with less force. 

You've never seen him like this before. In the past, you'd occasionally see tiny outbursts when he couldn't get things the way he wanted, but he never displayed this much emotion near you. 

“...Don't leave me too” he said in a shaky voice, but you couldn't catch that. All you could hear was your heartbeat from the adrenaline of suddenly being forced against a wall. 

Out of genuine care you still held for him, you embraced him. He stiffened up but soon accepted it. 

No matter how much you regretted ever calling him big brother, no matter how much it hurt when he abandoned you, you couldn't find it within your heart to leave and move on. 

Comforting him was clearly a mistake. For out of fear he'd lose his only other sibling, he imprisoned you in a spare room in his estate. 

He still had to keep up appearances so you'd constantly be left alone repeatedly. The cycle repeats itself again. He'll come back home and comfort you for leaving you alone for so long, then leave again for a long period of time. 

You'd never escape. You had so many insecurities and were so emotionally constipated. Sunday made things worse. He just had to keep you somewhere where he knew he couldn't lose track of you and possibly lose you just like Robin.

You still loved him. You always would. And he in return would offer you the type of love you never got from your actual family, even if it was just for a bit. 

To you, he was your beloved older brother no matter what.

[i-hate-accidents]

Would you ever consider writing the conversation Anthony had with Benedict in his bedchamber? When he scolded Ben for being alone with Y/N?

the author would like to share that upon reading your message, they immediately said, out loud, to no one but for herself to hear, "that is a BRILLIANT idea." she offers many thanks for your idea and your generosity in sharing it. <3

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

i hate accidents: a drabble

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary:  the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections:  I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n:  bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings:  brief description of grief from losing a parent

word count:  623

author’s note:  the character of y/n, whilst heavily talked about, does not appear in this drabble. the author hopes you enjoy these bickering brothers~

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

anthony turns towards him, quiet fury simmering in his eyes.

"brother," begins benedict, "i—"

"have you lost your fucking mind!" booms anthony.

"if you just let me explain—"

"have you compromised y/n?"

"what!"

"i said!  have you compromised y/n!"

"how can you even insinuate that!  of course i have not!"

"and why should i trust what you say?"

"because i am your brother!"

"precisely!  you are my brother!  you lie to me as naturally as you breathe!"

that is something, benedict admits to himself, i cannot deny.

"well!  i have no reason to lie now!" he declares aloud.

"and you expect me to believe that?  when i saw your mouth and her mouth mere breaths away from one another?"

lightning shoots throughout benedict’s body and butterflies erupt in his stomach at the memory.  the two of you were, indeed, mere breaths away from—— from—

"see," anthony interrupts, "you have nothing to say.  are you finally admitting to your guilt?"

"we were discussing my art!  that is all!"

"i am not a fool, benedict!"

"you look like one!"

"and you act like one! alone! in your bedchamber! with a lady!  our friend!  how do you think our family will react when they hear of your impropriety?"

"you make it sound as if this were some, some— devious scheme!"

anthony shakes his head.

"brother, i know you are in love with y/n—"

it would have been kinder if anthony shot him point blank in his chest.

benedict gapes at him, but his brother merely responds with an expression that makes him feel like a naive child.

"benedict, please.  your affection for y/n is deeply apparent to everyone in this house. mother, kate, our siblings, the servants, penelope.  good god, francesca, daph, and hastings even know, and they are not even here. you," anthony states simply, "are in love."

"i have not said anything of the sort!"

"so what do you mean to say? that you do not love y/n?"

benedict freezes. he feels the swell of his heart and its collapsing all in a mere breath.

of course i do.  of course i love y/n.

he swallows.

"it matters not what i feel.  it matters what she deserves."

y/n deserves someone good.  someone who will not hurt her.  someone who is not me.

anthony’s face softens, and it would be an expression that would be kind if benedict didn’t feel as though he was on the receiving end of its pity.  still, it reassures him.  anthony’s gentleness seemed to have passed when their father had.  it seemed to no longer have existed as a possibility within him; and then kate entered their lives.  whenever he sees evidence of its restoration, benedict cannot help but feel gratitude—even, as in this moment, at the cost of his own pain.

anthony sighs.

"did you two have to be in your bedchamber?"

benedict rolls his eyes.

"this is where all my art is!  but it shan't happen again."

"oh, that i will make certain."

he furrows his eyebrows.

"what is that supposed to mean?"

"did you truly think i would let you get away with this indiscretion?  you have completely disgraced y/n!"

"nothing!  happened!"

"bedchamber!  together!  ALONE!" anthony checks his pocket watch and, with its closing, resumes a dignified composure.  "i am done with this conversation.  we have kept y/n waiting long enough.  we must go to her promptly, offer our deepest apologies, and ensure that she is safe and well after this event.  we will be most fortunate, indeed, if she chooses to absolve us from your transgression."

benedict puts his hands over his face.  of all the people in the world, why did his elder brother have to be anthony bridgerton?

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

[zaldritzosrose]

Lessons In Pleasure (Aegon x Reader x Harwin)

Summary: Your marriage to Aegon was as good as expected, but you wanted a little more...passion. Rhaenyra, ever the dutiful sister knew just who to send to give your husband a few lessons in pleasing a woman.

TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, Harwin Strong and his horse cock, Rhaenyra being the best sister, Aegon (kinda) getting cucked and liking it, fingering, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, praise kink, p in v sex, Harwin showing Aegon how to fuck, canon-typical incest, twin/targcest, they are happy families in this, use of High Valyrian.

Reader has more Hightower coded features but isn't explicitly described.

Words: 5088 (yes...I know)

THANK YOU to @legitalicat for not only trusting me with this idea but betaing for me too! You're an angel!

Hāedar = little sister

Valonquar = little brother

Ābrazȳrys = wife

Valzȳrys = husband

Rhaenyra was grateful to have been given the chance to decide on her own husband. When originally presented to her, she was disgusted by the idea of marriage all together. But when Harwin Strong made his affections for her clear, she knew that was the man she would marry.  

After almost two decades of marriage and having three boys together, Rhaenyra could safely say she had chosen well. Not only was Harwin an amazing man and wonderful father to their boys, but he kept her well satisfied. The man was nearly solid muscle and hung like a horse. In their times alone, it wasn’t unusual for his head to be placed between her thighs or for him to him to rut into her like she was a bitch in heat.  

Harwin was nothing if not devoted to his wife. He would give her the world if she asked. He stood at her side, the ever-looming presence that reminded those around them Rhaenyra was not to be toyed with. He knew she was capable of protecting herself, of course, but he couldn’t allow himself to leave his wife to her own protection.  

Their devotion and love to each other, however, was in complete contrast to the marriages between Rhaenyra’s siblings. Well, one of them. The marriage of Helaena to Cregan Stark had been unexpected, yes, but having met the man at a tourney, he was all her sweet sister desired. Nobody would deny Helaena. Aemond and Daeron were too involved in their studies to give much mind to marriage. Their time would come, of course, but for now they could do as they pleased. The problem marriage was yours. 

When Alicent had given birth to you first, Viserys was disappointed once more. What is a king without a son? But within the hour, your twin finally made his presence known. The King finally had a son. Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, had accomplished more just with his birth than anyone would hope from you.  

As you grew into people, you and your twin were far different. You were far different from any of your siblings. You had fewer Valyrian features if any at all. But there was a fire inside you that left little room for doubt of your heritage, complete with a dragon you claimed not long after the time Aegon claimed Sunfyre.  

The fire in you was different too. Most of your family were hot headed, quick to anger and rash in action. You wouldn’t say you were smarter, but it was like you controlled your fire instead of the other way around. You could remain calm. Your logic could outweigh your desires time and time again.  

Until it came to your twin. For better or worse, he was half of you. You were devoted to him as much as Rhaenyra was devoted to Harwin, or your Uncle Daemon to his wife Laena. Every moment he needed defending, it was you who did so. If he needed soothing, he would find you. As you grew and matured, he loved you as you loved him.  

The problem came with his drinking. He was nearly always drunk by the time you both were fourteen. He functioned well throughout the day even if he was drunk. But once the sun gave way to the stars, he got sloppy. Drinking so much he made a mess of himself was how he chose to spend every evening. He would stumble to his bed, stinking of wine. 

Luckily, Rhaenyra was a good and comforting presence in your life. Listening to any and all issues you wished to unload on her.

As a child, it would range from not yet having a dragon, which was rectified by the tender age of twelve when you claimed your precious Starfyre. That pale purple dragon, almost iridescent, a contrast to the golden scales of Aegon’s Sunfyre, but somehow complimenting him perfectly. Just as you did with Aegon.

Then as you had aged and began to notice boys, Rhaenyra was the one to talk about romance, courting and all it entailed. Explaining the more, as you would bemoan, embarrassing parts of a relationship but you knew Rhaenyra wanted to look after you. But she did also tell you, that the King would likely choose your husband for you.

And you knew what that meant. You would be given to someone. Someone that, if you were unlucky, you did not know.

But the gods were on your side when your betrothal to Aegon was announced it seemed. Marrying your twin would surely be better than a stranger, you hoped. But Aegon was still a drunk. Unable to refrain from wine no matter the time of day. Not exactly the husband you craved and wished for.

As always, Rhaenyra was there. Comforting you where Aegon could not. It was not that he did not love you. He adored the very bones of you, and he would tell you time and time again.

But he was a mess of a man, by his own admission. Struggling with the weight of being the King’s eldest son and now, your husband. He had never meant to make you feel the way you did, you knew that. Because how could he, if you had never told him what you were feeling.

You had always known Aegon had a voracious appetite, for wine, for pleasure, anything really. Yet, you felt as though he was focused on completing the deed when he bedded you and you could not understand it. You listened, now when Rhaenyra was gushing about Harwin, after you had begged her to. Just to hear how it should be.

“Please, Nyra…” you held her hand tight, the look in your eyes desperate enough to convince the elder princess.

“Do you really wish to know of my bedroom activities, hāedar?” Rhaenyra asked, tugging you to sit on the couch by her fire.

You nodded in earnest.

“There is a reason and I beg you not to tell Aegon.”

Rhaenyra could see you were serious, you never kept secrets from your twin unless you must. She relented then, waiting for your first question.

“I have to know, is it…normal…for the husband to spend so little time on the wife’s pleasure before the act?”

Your voice was so unsure. Not embarrassed to tell your sister, but more embarrassed to voice on the topic at all. Sex was not an easy topic for some, you included. But you knew Rhaenyra was the right person to talk to.

“No, hāedar. Not in my experience. Harwin is quite intent on bringing me pleasure as many times as he can before I even see his cock.” Rhaenyra smirked, both at your reaction to her crass words and at the memory of that morning. When Harwin had delayed his duties just to feast upon, in his words, ‘the most delicious meal a man may have, his wife’s cunt’.

You sighed then and Rhaenyra instantly saw the change in your expression.

“Is something the matter, does our brother not give you the same treatment?”

She was not mocking you, for you could see the genuine concern in Rhaenyra’s expression and hear it in her tone. You only shook your head.

“Not that he does not do anything. He just…it seems like he is not as interested in what comes before as much as he is the sex itself.”

You did not know the word for it. Anything a couple did before sex, but you knew there must be more than having Aegon’s fingers momentarily buried in your cunt before he would rut into to you and chase his own pleasures, before passing out beside you. By Rhaenyra’s expression, you knew you were right.

“Have you told him, told him what you want him to do?” Rhaenyra asked, though she was already formulating a plan.

Again, you shook your head. You knew of Aegon’s past. The way his name was known in every whorehouse in the city, and yet that debauched nature seemed to never reach you. Rhaenyra took your hand, a mischievous in her eyes.

“Leave it to me, hāedar.”

You thought nothing more of your conversation with Rhaenyra as you prepared for your usual dragonflight with Aegon. Something the two of you did weekly.

“Ābrazȳrys,” Aegon smiled, knowing hearing his High Valyrian was a weakness of yours and he was right, a soft blush on your cheeks as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck.

Drunk, but not stumbling. His usual state, functional enough to navigate the day. He squeezed you a little, the way he had hugged you since you were both small. A gesture you were glad he continued.

“Valzȳrys,” you responded, feeling him smile against your skin.

“Shall we?”

Aegon followed you to your dragons, his arm loose around your waist as he walked. He was not shy with his public affections, and you could never deny he loved and desired you. But speaking with Rhaenyra had told you something was missing. As you mounted your dragon, all thoughts of that conversation left you the moment Starfyre left the dragonpit and made for the skies, Sunfyre on her tail.

“You want me to do what?” Harwin asked, not for the first time. It was like he could not believe the words Rhaenyra spoke.

“Teach my brother how to fuck his wife, properly. The poor girl is woefully unsatisfied.” Rhaenyra stated, as if she were talking of the weather or that night’s meal.

Harwin simply stood there, all thought, and reason gone from his mind. His wife wanted him to show her brother how to fuck? The prince who was known in all whorehouses and more for his depravities and salacious appetites? Rhaenyra could not be serious.

“I will not say it again Harwin. My sister deserves a man who knows how to care for her every need.” Rhaenyra smiled, stepping close enough to press her body to Harwin’s, her grin widening when he sighed in defeat.

“Show him, do it yourself first if you must. Hold his cock and put it in the right place if needs be.”

Harwin’s eyes were nearly burst from their sockets. It would not be the first time he had bedded someone at Rhaenyra’s behest. But these were her siblings. The look on her face however, and the love he held for you as a sister, was enough to convince him.

“Fine, you are lucky I love you so…”

Harwin had heard the prince and princess had returned and retired to their chambers. Rhaenyra had near pushed him out the door at the news. It was now or never it seemed, though he had no clue where he would even begin.

He was a few feet from your chambers when he heard the soft moans and the gentle movement of the bed. Harwin took a breath and prepared to close his eyes as he shoved the thankfully unlocked door open.

“Harwin!” you exclaimed, grabbing a nearby sheet, and shielding your naked form.

Aegon was less concerned with his nudity but used his body to shield you a little.

“Is there a reason you have walked into our chambers uninvited, good brother?”

Harwin locked eyes with you, and you knew. Rhaenyra had sent him, because of your conversation.

“Rhaenyra?” Was all you said and Aegon looked entirely confused, his gaze swinging between you and Harwin.

The knight nodded, a silent exchange that told you what you needed to know but not Aegon. Your husband was more than confused and sat back on his haunches to look at you.

“What is going on?” he asked you, but Harwin answered.

“It appears, that your wife is not entirely satisfied with your abilities, good brother.” Harwin spoke firmly but gently as he settled down onto the couch parallel to your bed. His eyes stayed trained, for now, on Aegon.

But Aegon was looking at you.

“Is this true?” He looked hurt, those perpetually sad eyes staring down at you.

You sat up, holding the sheet close to you with one hand while the other nervously toyed with one of your auburn curls, a trait inherited from your mother.

“He is not wrong. I want…more.” You tried to maintain eye contact, and Aegon did not look angry which was good, you supposed.

“More? Like inviting Harwin in, more?” He asked, still not quite grasping the situation.

Harwin could see you floundering, and he spoke up.

“Not quite like that, Aegon. More…to show you what you are failing in.” Harwin did not mean to sound harsh, but it was the essence of it.

You wished for what Rhaenyra had. A man who would worship you from head to toe before fucking you senseless. Something it seemed Aegon was not doing. Aegon opened his mouth to speak but said nothing as Harwin stood up, removing his outer layer and moving towards the bed.

“It seems you are in need of lesson, my prince.” Harwin smiled, watching the blush on your cheeks as he got closer and closer.

You had always found Harwin handsome, telling Rhaenyra how lucky she was to have someone like him so devoted to her. Not that Aegon was not to you. The closer Harwin got, the more Aegon realised just what he meant by ‘lesson’.

Silently, he moved aside, watching as Harwin kneeled at the foot of the bed. He was just above eye level with your body, and you sat up on your elbows. Anticipation had you, the way his deep brown eyes bored into yours had a fire in your blood you had not felt in a little while.

“Now, princess, do you wish me to show your husband how a man worships his wife?” Harwin asked, his voice lower than you had ever heard. A sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, but that was not enough.

“Words, sweet girl. I need to hear you say it, and I am sure your husband does too?”

You looked at Aegon, who was flitting his eyes between you and where Harwin waited at your feet. He looked torn between being upset and impossibly aroused, based on the faint flush on his skin and the half hard cock between his legs.

“Show us.”

Harwin was gentle, far gentler than he would be with Rhaenyra as he gripped your knees. Tugging you down the bed and pushing the sheet from your body. Now, fully exposed you felt a flush of heat send your skin pink. You could feel his breath on your skin, the roughness of his palms on your thighs as he kneaded the flesh of them.

“Watch carefully, my prince.”

Your breath hitched the moment you felt Harwin’s lips on your inner thigh. Gentle kisses as his large hands pushed your thighs wider. Everything was already so different. Aegon was always gentle, but he was not as tender and slow as Harwin was being.

“You must take your time…savour everything you have before you…” Harwin mumbled to Aegon as he moved higher and higher, the coarse hair of his beard already sending pleasure shooting into your core.

Aegon did as he was bid and watched. Watched as Harwin kissed and nibbled your thighs until his nose brushed the apex, just shy of your cunt. He listened to the soft moans and whimpers that left your lips. Sounds he had heard at times.

But the moan that left you when Harwin finally reached your mound was near sinful, your head shooting up to watch what the knight was doing.

“Oh!” Was all you managed to exclaim the moment Harwin’s tongue took its first taste of you.

Harwin could not lie, you tasted divine. It seemed Targaryen women were each as delicious as the other. He took his time, easing you into it. His tongue taking languid strokes between your folds as his nose pushed against your pearl and his beard scratched your thighs.

The moans you let out were no more than incoherent sounds, your hands already gripping the sheets as Harwin had you hurtling towards your peak. His eyes looked up then, meeting yours for a split second before he took one of your hands and placed it on the back of his head.

“Show me what you want, sweet girl.” He urged, slowing down to force you to take control.

With a whimper and a quick glance to Aegon you gripped Harwin’s hair, which he’d left out of his usual tie. Pulling softly at the strands, you held him against your core and let your body choose what to do. Hips rolling gently as he let his tongue slip back between your folds. Before you knew it, your stomach tightened, and you were whimpering what sounded like Harwin’s name.

Aegon could not tear his eyes away from you now. He had never really paid attention to what you looked like when you came. Flushed skin, your eyes screwed shut as you let out those sweet, soft moans. And he realised he needed to watch you do it again and again. What surprised him now, was that Harwin did not stop.

Your hand loosened on the knight’s hair, but his mouth did not leave you. His hands found your hips and pulled you back to his mouth, listening to the surprised yelp you gave as he began to devour you. There was no other word for it. He was not as gentle as the first time.

Now he was showing what he was capable of.

With grunts and groans of his own, Harwin gave you know reprieve as he fucked his tongue in and out of you, holding you with one large hand as his other moved down to let his fingers join his tongue.

Your eyes rolled the moment he pushed a finger inside. They were thicker than Aegon’s, the rough skin only adding to your pleasure. Curses began to slip from your lips and Aegon could feel his own cock hardening watching you writhe against Harwin’s face. He resisted the temptation to touch himself, to intent on watching you fall apart again.

Harwin pulled away as you peaked, giving you the chance to relax and breathe slowly. And when he looked over at Aegon, the prince could see the faint sheen of your release on the knight’s face and beard.

“Never let her only peak once, the more she comes now, the more sensitive she will be later. And trust me, it is all the better for you.” Harwin rumbled out as he stood.

He shed his own clothing quickly. Finally revealing the sheer length and girth of his own cock. Even Aegon could not help but stare. No wonder Rhaenyra was so well satisfied, he thought.

Even you began to wonder if he expected to be able to fit that inside you, as you assumed that was where this was going. The rest of Harwin was just as impressive. This muscle built his entire body. Just the sight of him a fresh rush of arousal dripping from you.

“Are you ready, princess, we will take our time?” Harwin asked softly, climbing on to the bed next to you, helping you move slightly to accommodate him.

“Yes...” you replied softly, the aftereffects of your two previous orgasms still lingering.

Harwin let his hands trail over your body, as if he was marvelling at just how small you looked beneath them. From your hips and up to your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh gently to gauge your reaction. And when you whimpered softly, he was a little firmer, adding his lips to the mix.

What surprised you, was when he reached out to Aegon. Taking the younger’s hand and placing it on your other breast.

“Copy what I do.”

Aegon watched as Harwin let his hand cup your breast as his thumb began to swipe gently over your nipple, watching the skin pebble and perk as your whimpered out in pleasure. Aegon did his best to replicate the movement, watching and listening as you reacted just the same, back arching to meet his hand.

“My best advice will always be, to listen. If she moans and pulls you close, keep going.”

You were barely listening to what Harwin said, too focused on the different sensations. Where Harwin’s palm was large and rough, Aegon’s was a little smaller and softer. But the touch from both was enough to have you craving more. When Aegon’s hand slowed to watch Harwin, your own gripped it, begging him to keep touching you. And he did, knowing that you were showing him exactly what you wanted from him.

“Good girl.” Harwin cooed and you moaned in response.

“Do you hear that? Our princess likes being told she is a good girl…” Harwin but emphasis on the praise, listening as you groaned softly again.

Aegon did his best to listen to you and Harwin. Putting everything he heard and saw into his memory. He had never considered you would have your own wants and, dare he say, depravities. He had been afraid of treating you too much like his whores of the past. He wanted to make love, not fuck you. But maybe he had been wrong.

Harwin’s lips were latched to your neck and Aegon was quick to copy, following the path Harwin took on your opposite side. And your moans increased the harder they kissed. Aegon even began to take his own initiative when you gave out a whimper at his lips on your pulse. Kissing you harder until you moaned out his name.

“Well done, my prince.”

The knight let his hand move down your stomach, trailing over your hips and down to your cunt, feeling the slick skin and spreading your arousal around to prepare you for the next lesson.

“Time to learn how to properly fuck your wife.” Harwin smiled. He had to admit, he was having a little fun with this. You were just as responsive as Rhaenyra, but with a little more softness and innocence.

Large hands gripped your waist and lifted you gently. Your body was like putty in Harwin’s grip, two orgasms already making feel light. He settled you on his stomach, the rough trail of hair hitting your pearl just right as your got comfortable.

Harwin knew any position would be a lot for you to take him in, he was fully aware of his more than average size. This was about your pleasure, and he did not want to hurt you. He was already rock hard and waiting, but he let you take the lead here.

“Go slowly, princess. I am a lot to take.” The wink he gave you made you giggle, relaxing you a little more.

You moved slightly and Harwin held your waist with one hand while his other wrapped around the base of his cock. You were not sure you were ever going to be quite prepared, but the anticipation was too much. You had only ever laid with Aegon, this would be a change.

Harwin guided you down, listening to your soft whimper at the stretch. He kept up his praise as you took him inch by inch. And he was impressed to see you sink down to his base.

“Well done, sweet girl…” he smiled, stroking his hands up the curve of your hips and back again, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

Aegon watched in near disbelief. Seeing Harwin’s cock disappear between your folds, the sheer stretch of it and the moans you could not hold in. With a little encouragement, you began to move. Rolling your hips slowly and coating Harwin’s cock in your slick. The stretch stung, but not enough to take away the pleasure.

And soon you were rolling your hips in earnest. Your hand on Harwin’s broad chest to steady yourself. You had ridden Aegon a handful of times, usually having too little confidence in your ability to move as you should. Harwin’s hands held you steady, helping you keep your rhythm.

“Let her lead. When she is on top, she is in charge. When you are, you control the rhythm.” Harwin instructed through rough groans. Your movements getting more confident and drawing out his own pleasure.

Aegon let his own hand drift to his cock. He could not resist the throbbing pleasure any longer. You looked so beautiful, and something about seeing you on top of another man had him more aroused than he expected. His hand was tight on his cock, eyes never leaving you as he watched the roll of your hips against Harwin’s body. Adding in your gentle moans and Harwin’s growls and grunts, it had him near coming just from the sight.

“Not so fast, Aegon. I will let you put what I have shown into practice soon enough.” Harwin grunted, his hands now bouncing you up and down on his thick length.

Your moans were louder than Aegon had ever heard. Sounds he had not thought you capable of. But he had been wrong about many things today it seemed.

“Gods…I...I…” You panted as your nails dug into Harwin’s chest.

He had not been wrong, Aegon realised. The two previous peaks had left you sensitive enough to already be so close to a third. Your body was glistening in sweat, skin flushed, and your head thrown back as you panted and moaned your way through your third peak of the night.

“Fuck…” You groaned as Harwin rolled your bodies over and began pounding into you with abandon.

Aegon could feel his own cock throbbing painfully as he watched you moan and writhe under Harwin, the bed hitting the wall with the force of the knight’s thrusts, but you seemed to be enjoying it all the more. Soon enough, Harwin was pulling out of you and coating your stomach with his seed, growling, and grunting as he tugged his cock to release. Your eyes were closed, and you looked well and truly fucked out, your breath coming out in heaving pants as your high subsided.

“That is how a woman should look when she has been well fucked, my prince.” Harwin panted, pushing his hair from his face.

Aegon could do nothing but nod, as Harwin left the bed and retrieved a cloth to clean his seed from your stomach. Your eyes opened and saw only Aegon. And then his still hard cock.

“It is your turn now, is not, valonquar?” You smiled, your hand reaching out for him.

Aegon did not hesitate, pressing his lips to yours like he was a man starved. Forgetting that Harwin remained in the room, his hands settled on your waist as Aegon’s lips took a path down your neck and lower.

“Do not forget, take your time, my prince.” Harwin called, as he dressed.

Aegon only grunted in response. He had never felt quite so desperate for you. Whether it was desire or jealousy he did not know. But he did not care. He wanted to show you he had listened and learned.

His hand kneaded your breast as it had before, while his lips found the unattended one. Harwin had settled himself on the sofa, watching as though to ensure the prince truly had learned a lesson.

Aegon took his time as best he could, listening intently for your moans. Feeling how your body arched to chase his kisses and touches. Your hand in his hair to keep him close to your body. Confident now, in silently asking for what you wanted. And Aegon was quick to oblige, remaining where you held him until you tugged him away.

“Fuck me, please…” You whispered; you had never asked that way. Never asked so directly.

And it sent a shot of pleasure right to Aegon’s cock, earning you a groan in approval.

“Anything for you, my love…” He whispered into your neck as he took his place between your thighs.

His thrusts were slow to start, knowing three orgasms in now had you more sensitive than ever. But he wanted to do this right. He eased into you, before glancing at Harwin for approval he did not realise he needed.

“Hold her thigh at your waist, let her hook her leg round if she needs to.” Harwin instructed, knowing what Aegon needed now.

No one was doubting Aegon’s experience. But a whore was different to a wife, in some respects.

Aegon did as instructed, and the gentle change of angle had your eyes rolling back and Aegon’s name slipping from your lips.

“Praise her, you know she likes it now.” Harwin called again and Aegon leaned down to capture your lips.

He knew well enough what to say.

“My good girl, taking me so well after three peaks…” Aegon groaned into your ear as he sped up, all but pounding into you now, desperate for his own release.

The moans he got in return only spurred him on. You were both wound so tight it would not be long.

“Yes, good girl…” He whispered again, as he gripped your thigh tight and pulled it higher.

Both of you cared only for release now. He could practice Harwin’s teachings another time. Your nails were digging into his skin, and you were urging him on with your heel at his back.

“Please...” You moaned but you knew you needed to be clearer.

“Harder Aegon…”

That was enough for him. He wanted to give you everything you wanted and more. You had never been this vocal with your needs in bed. And he would deny you nothing. His hand moved from your thigh to the headboard as he went as deep as he could, wanting to show you he could do as well as Harwin clearly had.

You were so close to your fourth peak that Aegon could barely thrust into you with the way your walls clenched around him. His own cock throbbed hard within you as he felt his own release pulsing through him.

Neither of you heard Harwin leave, too lost in your own pleasures. But the knight could hear your loud moans and the slam of the bed into the stone wall. A stark contrast to the soft, timid moans he had entered to.

He was a few feet from your rooms when he heard you near scream Aegon’s name, a sound that told him Aegon had learned, and learned well. Harwin could only smirk and mumble to himself as he walked away.

“Well done, my prince.”

[fairycosmos]

hi, just curious if you're able to answer this, what happened with becca? currently struggling with a sibling with addiction issues and wanted to get some perspective

she'd been on and off drugs experimentally/recreationally since she was like 17, but when the pandemic hit in 2020 she spiralled very quickly over the course of a few months into addiction which was worsened by her dating (and moving the guy into our house) another person struggling with severe addiction. we tried to kick him out when she got bad but they basically went out onto the streets together so we had to let them back in. to make a long story much shorter she was on a lot more shit than we realised, she choked in her sleep on aug 25 2020 and had a cardiac arrest. cpr didn't help, her shitty boyfriend didn't help, nothing helped. it was too late basically. all of this is messed up and blurry in my head so there's much more to it than that but that's the gist of it. in the weeks leading up i tried tirelessly to talk to her about it, mostly over text even though we were all living in the same house but in seperate rooms due to covid at the time. i would send her these big walls of text about how this wasn't right and how bad things were and she would agree but basically just mollify me, lie to me etc though i do believe that having those conversations was nessecary. just letting her know that i understand, that i'm here, that i know she's scared and in immense pain but that we can make small steps in the right direction together etc. while also being almost harsh and upfront about the harm she is causing and the way she was hurting herself and everyone around her. she had a doctor's appointment booked the week after she died to talk about the drugs and i do think she intended on going, but she was just such a mess. i don't have any concrete advice because it felt so hopeless at the time, talking to her was like talking to a brick wall. i was so fucking angry and upset about her situation and the way she was that it was hard to even interact with her sometimes. the spiral was so fast with her and that made it so difficult to guage what to do. but if you can continue talking to them on a human level, bringing up examples of their recent behaviour that has crossed the line, pushing for the idea of seeing a professional/local addiction resources or hotlines, then that's all you can do. i know how hard this is on you too and i know it is a special type of exhausting and endless hell to love an addict. all you can do is try your best not to facilliate the addiction while doing what you can to support getting them into recovery. there are a lot of addiction centers, support groups and hotlines that offer advice and support for loved ones - i would really encourage you to seek those out for more professional and exstensive guidance. i really hope they get clean eventually and i reall hope you're taking care of yourself and being kind with yourself throughout this whole thing. i'm really sorry it's happening to you, your sibling and your family. please know i'm here if you ever need a friend or someone to vent to about it. x

supporting someone with addiction / how to help an addict without enabling / helping someone who is misusing drugs or alcohol/ info about interventions / how to help a friend or family member with addiction / tips for supporting someone recovering from addiction/overcoming drug addiction

[moremousewrites]

Alone With You

Pairing: Rolanxf!Reader

Summary: Rolan has been taking out his anger on you ever since you've arrived at the Last Light Inn. You finally get fed up and snap at him, which leads you feeling bit guilty. You try to make it up to him and let him take out his anger on you yet again

Tags: smut, PiV sex, degradation, hate sex, light angst, tail sucking, face fucking, creampie

Of all the people you could have found in the depths of the shadow cursed lands, why did it have to be Rolan. You groaned as you watched him fire off magic missles, clearly overwhelmed by the wraiths that were clawing at him. 

“Why couldn't he just stay at the Inn?” You grumbled to yourself, rubbing your hand down your face. You were in no mood to be dealing with his egotistical bullshit. You told him you would save his siblings. 

You ran down the hill, your party in tow. The look of despair on Rolan's face was hard to miss. Shadowheart made quick work of two of the wraiths and you finished the others with a few focused attacks. The fight was over in moments and Rolan approached you, fuming.

“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right- not a damn thing!” He yelled to himself, though his ire was pointed at you. It had been all night. Ever since you stepped foot in the Last Light Inn, he'd been taking out his rage on you. You knew it was misdirected, he was scared and insecure. But your patience was running very thin.

“You shouldn't be here, Rolan” you said through gritted teeth. The tiefling had every right to be upset, but he was really grating on your nerves tonight.

“Yes, I should,” he challenged. “I came here to save Cal and Lia. Instead, I found myself in need of rescue. From you… of all bloody people” he scowled at you, referring to you as if you were the scum of the realm.

You gripped the lantern so hard you thought it might splinter. “Unbelievable. I have been nothing but nice to you, you self absorbed prick. You wanna do something for your siblings? Stop trying to get yourself killed for your ego, sober up, and pull yourself together” you chastised him, fed up with his attitude. 

Rolan looked as though he had more to say, but held his tongue and walked back in the direction to the Inn. You figured it was for the best. If he said one more thing you thought you might smack that repugnant look off his face. 

You watched him conjure a transportation spell back to the Inn. He stomped his way into the bar and the portal closed behind him. Rude he didn't offer to transport you as well but at least he was gone.

“Gods, he's a piece of work” you said, rubbing your temples from the stressful encounter. 

Shadowheart raised a brow at you. “Is that what you think of him?” She asked, in a curious manner.

You eyed her, suspiciously. “I think he's probably very scared about his siblings being captured and he's blaming me because that's something he can control right now,” you explained, not very comfortable with her tone. “I also don't care to be his stress relief. He can deal with it like a big boy or deal with it alone. It's not my problem” you were firm in your resolve. Whatever she was implying, you weren't taking the bait.

“If you're sure” Shadowheart shrugged and walked on. Of course you were sure, you just explained it to her. 

You walked the rest of the way in silence, too irritated to say anything productive. You noticed the bar at the Inn was empty. Maybe what you said to Rolan finally got through to him.

A small part of you felt bad for chewing him out and you felt you should apologize before he took off again. You asked Jaheira if she'd seen him and she shrugged. She mentioned he might have gone to a spare room but she wasn't sure. You thanked her and made your way around the Inn. After looking in some of the guest rooms  you started to think he'd gone off again. You checked the Inn more frantically, scouring every room until you found one last door. 

For some reason, you felt the urge to listen through the door. You pressed your ear against the wood and tried to silence the loud beat of your heart in your ears.

At first, you heard nothing. Then, after a few moments, you heard his voice. It was strangled, and low. Unlike how you'd heard him speak before. Almost as if it were a purr. You were so relieved to hear his voice you didn't even process what you were listening to. You immediately knocked on the door.

“Zurgan- leave me alone!” you heard him answer from the other side of the door. His voice was pitchy, like he was straining from something. 

You rolled your eyes. “Rolan, it's me, we need to talk” you placed your hand on the door handle, clicking it open.

“No! No- don't!” opening the door, you were at a loss for words. The wizard apprentice was sprawled out on the bed, shirt removed, fisting his cock with fervor. You shut the door behind you. “Gods damn it, why did it have to be you? Why is it always you?” He let go of himself, dropping his hand on the bed and giving you a stare that could cut you into pieces. 

“I'm sorry, I-” you started to apologize. 

“No, enough of your sorries! You have no respect for my life, for my privacy,  or anyone's for that matter. You just go around involving yourself wherever you think it makes you important and don't stick around to see it through” he ranted at you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his cock. It was still fully erect. 

“I'm sorry” you walked over to him, eyes taking him in. His normally upkept hair was completely disheveled and framed his face which was glistening with sweat. He'd been fucking his hand furiously. The image it brought to your mind filled you with a heat deep inside you. 

He guffawed at you, furious. “Did you not hear a word I said? Are you dull?” he watched in awe as you sank to your knees at the side of his bed, eyes looking at him in expectation. 

Rolan sat up to face you, feet on either side of you, his cock poking at his navel. “You think I want to fuck you? After everything you've done to me?” He fisted your hair and tilted back your head. You noticed his tail was twitching excitedly. 

His eyes followed yours to his tail and he groaned. He stood, grasping your jaw so it hung open. “I'd tell you to breathe but I don't care,” he said before thrusting into your open mouth. 

Even with his big talk, he showed restraint. His hips only rutting shallow thrusts and he was clearly focused on slowing his pace. You gripped the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer. 

“You brat” he huffed, thrusting harder. A mischievous thought crossed your mind and you narrowed your eyes to look up at him. You were going to be a brat, alright. Your hand moved upwards, carefully locating the base of his tail, and you grasped it lightly.

Rolan's shocked sputtering was a satisfying result of your plotting. He pulled you off of him in a quick motion and grabbed your wrist. “What is wrong with you?!” He sounded exasperated.

“Oh you didn't like that? It kind of felt like you did when your cock was twitching in my throat” you grinned at him.

Rolan pulled you onto the bed, grunting as he did. He was deceptively strong for a wizard. You were bent forward, your ass lifted for him as your face pressed into the mattress. “Will you just shut up already?” he pulled your pants down your thighs and you felt his tail wrap around your naked thigh, firmly. 

You felt the head of his rigid cock press against your hole. You could tell you were soaked as he pressed the tip against you. Letting out a loud whine, Rolan snapped his hips, driving himself into you. “I said shut up!” He set a bruising pace, forcing you down into the mattress with his hips while a hand pressed your shoulder down. 

You could feel his infernal ridges dragging against the walls of your cunt, pulling out to slam back into you as you moaned out his name.

“The brave adventurer moaning my name like a whore. What would your friends think if they knew you were taking a foulbloods cock like a dirty slut? Fucking pathetic” he pounded into you harder, his tail flexing against your leg. 

Your back arched deeper and you rocked your hips to his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin was echoing against the walls of the room, only to be quieted by your moans. 

You looked back to your thigh to see the tip of his tail was twitching frantically. He was restraining it. You reached back and stroked the tip with your thumb, eliciting a strangled moan from the tiefling. Cautiously, he unfurled it and let you take it in your grasp. You lightly ran your fingers on the edges of his tail, testing the sensitivity while he tried to compose himself. It was clear by his sporadic pace and breathy moans that his tail was incredibly sensitive. As an experiment, you ran the flat of your tongue along the tip of his tail. Rolan nearly collapsed on you.

“W-wait” he stuttered, composure lost. He'd stopped moving entirely, disappointing you.

“What's wrong?” You asked, innocently. You pressed a kiss to his tail and felt him shudder around you.

“It's too much, really. I won't last” he breathed out. 

You licked again, lighter this time, then gave a dark grin. “I don't care,” you said before stuffing the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tail and humming. 

Rolan cursed at you and lifted his leg onto the bed to fuck into you mercilessly. The unforgiving pace and intense angle was overwhelming. You were fastly approaching your climax along with him. Rolan felt as your cunt clenched around him and in an effort to bring you to completion, he brought his fingers to your clit to finish you off, making you squeal around his tail.

The combined pleasures of your orgasm and your mouth pushed him over the edge, causing him to come deep inside of you. In his exhaustion, he grabbed you and collapsed on his side, still buried in your aching cunt.

For a while, you didn't say anything. His tail had slipped out of your mouth and his spend was seeping out of you while his cock softened. But you laid still in his arms while the afterglow diminished. 

From behind you, you heard a faint sound. He was saying something so quiet you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.

“What?” You asked, quietly. 

“I said I'm sorry” he replied. You nodded, not wanting to press on the issue. 

“It's okay. Do you want me to stay?” You asked, unsure of what he needed. 

Rolan didn't respond for a moment, ashamed to say yes. Ashamed to say he needed you again. That you really weren't the bane of his existence and that he was scared of being alone. Instead, he held you closer.

[aziraphales-library]

hello hello hello! how are you lovely mods doing? first of all I want to thank you for this blog, it's given me all the best GO fics I've read!!

I wanted to ask you, are you guys aware of any Cinderella!au fanfic for AziraCrow? Cause I've been thinking about writing one, but I don't want to accidentally make it too similar to an existing one!

Thank you ever so much ❤️

Hi, I'm good thanks! We have some Cinderella aus here, and I've got more now...

Raven by desk_mess (T)

King Gabriel's son, Prince Ezra, is coming of age to take a wife for themself. A servant-girl, Antonia, dreams of escaping the clutches of her cruel step-mother and step-sisters. Little do they know they have someone looking out for them. After all, it's ineffable. (Good Omens Cinderella AU) (Rated Teen for Language and Implications.)

A Midsummer Midnight’s Dream by pilatesandpinot (E)

Aziraphale Fell dreams of becoming an actor and dancer but instead lives in servitude to his wicked stepfather and stepsisters. When a mysterious duke invites all of the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes to the Midsummer Masquerade Ball, he thinks he’s found his escape. His stepfamily shuns him from attending, though that’s not something Aziraphale or his sassy godmother will take laying down. Will Aziraphale find his happily ever after, even if it’s not entirely what he expected? A Cinderella/Fairytale inspired AU

Cinderfall by a_serpent (G)

Azira Fell had a really though childhood - his parents died and he had to live with his terrible stepmother and stepbrothers. Everything changes when one day Az meets intriguing (and deadly handsome) redhead stranger.

Cinderphale by Ezra_Oakenshield (G)

As the title suggests, this is a rewrite of "Cinderella" with the Good Omens characters. After the death of his mother, Aziraphale is at the mercy of his cruel adopted siblings. They reduce him to a lowly servant. The solace he finds is with his animal friends, his bookkeeper friend from town, the mysterious blank book that she gave him, the prospect of the three-night ball at the palace, and a certain handsome red-head with dark glasses.

Cinders Bound by Golden Crown by AJ_Constantine (E)

Good Omens Alpha Beta Omega Cinderella AU From the far end of the ballroom Prince Aziraphale’s eyes locked on Crowley as he raised his hand beseechingly. Crowley couldn’t look away from him if his life depended on it, although he was keenly aware of the increasing number of eyes joining the Prince’s to stare at him standing frozen on the dais. As he realized that he was incapable of not answering the silent call of the bright Alpha below him, a calm washed over him, acting as a soothing balm over the jagged edges of his seething emotions. Just breathe. He inhaled shakily as he began descending the steps to the ballroom floor. Prince Aziraphale mirrored his steps, stepping forward to close the distance between them. The sea of nobles between them parted like waves receding from the shore as they moved closer. When Crowley drew close to the Prince, his hand slowly rose to settle in the Alpha's outstretched one. The Prince looked at Crowley's face searchingly. His voice was quiet yet ringing with intent as he asked, "May I have this dance?"

- Mod D

[babyitsgayoutside]

I went viral on instagram for being a Pro-shipper

Before I even knew what a pro-shipper was.

Around this time last year I had just gotten back to the states from being in Japan for 3-ish months. I posted a reel jokingly showing off some of the BL Manga that I had bought during my stay.

In the video I showed Volume one of Yarachin Slut club and volume one of Hitorijime, my hero.

If you don’t know these series. Yarachin is about a group of boys who run a high school sex club it also has various degrees of dubcon and gang rape. The other deposits an age gap relationship teacher/student.

The reel where I showed these manga went viral on the wrong side of the internet and In 2 months my instagram received over 80,000,000 views across all my reels and I’m averaging at this current moment 10-20,000,000 views a month.

the comments I was receiving and have been receiving since are beyond words.

Some examples of what the more tame comments

And if you think the comments are bad (not shown are the hundreds of comments telling me I’m not trans or gay, that I’m a cis woman pretending to be queer to garner support from the queer community, misgendering and deadnaming me, threading to dox me/send my address/personal info to people via DMs. Not to mention the newest group of people who found out I have a dead sibling and are using that as a way to attack me now as well. My DMs are also terrible.

These people are mad about two volumes of manga. Manga I bought in a brick and mortar store in Japan. Manga that have official anime adaptations.

They are calling a manga you can currently buy at Barnes and Nobel child p*rn and calling me a p*dip hole becuase i own it.

I don’t know what the point of this post is really, I’ve come back to tumblr and realize the entire internet does not in fact hate me, and people on here actually can logically think about things like this not in black and white.

Am I a pro shipper?

I’ve heard if the term, I’ve seen it around and always thought It was for extreme niche interests in fanfic, fictional media and general fictional content that I don’t particularly find myself reading or interacting with ever.

But then I looked into it after being called it 1000000 times a day on my social media and I relaxed it’s not about normalizing incestfics or spreading niche fan art around tags like antis would have you believe. At the end of the day it’s a group of people online with a very punk aligned mentality that censorship is wrong. Fiction is a place for self expression and understand that fiction is fiction. It’s not about individual tags on a03 or black butler ships. It’s about the freedom to express yourself thought fucking fiction. Weather it be to cope with trauma, or to just get some fucking weird feelings you are having out on paper through fanfciton, through projecting into a character from media you like.

I’m not big with labels, so I’m not a “proshipper” but I’m on their side, because it’s the right side.

You can argue all you want it’s not, that they are “horrible people” for the fictional media they consume. But the opposite side is literally telling me to “slit vertically” on a daily basis. You are no better than the people you hate.

Anywho, yeah. Going viral sucks.

[darkinfinity]

Hi, happy 28th! I decided to join the 28th appreciation, so here are all the fics I read and enjoyed in the past month! Fics are organised by word count :)

🌷Tell me it's the strongest shape by @louandhazaf (E, multi, 73k)

Nick and Elgar have it all. They’re famous, successful, and engaged to be married—and sometimes they play with others.

When uni student Louis gets street cast by Elgar for a GQ photoshoot, he's drawn into Nick and Elgar’s complicated relationship.

They've always invited mates into their bed. It doesn’t ever mean anything. Until… it does.

🌷A crown of heartache by WordsInBloom28 (E, 70k)

The Royal Tail: an alpha den, a strip club, a place where secrets are concealed and consent is medicated. It’s also the place Harry has been trapped for the last three years.

Through luck or fate, Harry finds his way to Louis, a kind alpha who offers safety and comfort. After being freed from the confines of the den, Harry struggles to shake the darkness from his past.

He has a choice to make. Live in a mental prison of his own making or find the strength within himself to face his demons head on with Louis at his side.

🌷In the still of the night by @jacaranda-bloom (E, 68k)

In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love.

In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance.

When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together?

OR the Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

🌷Chasing, searching, dreaming by @parmahamlarrie (E, 46k)

Everyone is chasing, searching, dreaming of their soulmate.

Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. The unexpected passing of Louis' mum, and the fact that now he is the guardian of his twin two-year-old little siblings, just means that Harry is going to have to wait a bit longer.

A soulmate AU full of cute kids, house building, therapy, and a lot of dreaming.

🌷Four, five, finished? by @beanno28 & @lalalaartje (E, multi, 45k)

Now that they've all settled down in their relationship dynamic, Zayn, Harry and Louis agree it's time for the next step. A new phase in their lives, so to speak. They're having a baby! Or well. That's the plan. As usual for the three of them, nothing goes as planned.

Adjustments have to be made, emotions have to be lived through and discussed and all in all, our three boys need to buckle up for the ride and hope to reach their final destination without major figurative car crashes.

🌷A hopeless connection by @parmahamlarrie (E, 34k)

In a world where everyone has a soulmate, what do you do when you don’t have one?

As soon as Louis Tomlinson was born, his Timer, the one that determined when he would meet his soulmate, was already at zero. He’s spent the last twenty-five years of his life looking for that void to be filled with faceless strangers. Can he still find love?

🌷Santa baby honey by @sadaveniren (E, 29k)

“Let’s cut right to the chase,” Niall said, loading the powerpoint, which was just one page, comprised of Louis’ face and the words How do you solve a problem like this asshole? “It’s the beginning of November and Louis is already being a fuckwit. How are we gonna have him knock that shit off this year?”

aka Louis is the CEO of a toy company and Christmas is a stressful time of year so his assistant decides the best way to make him chill out is by getting him laid through a Secret Santa

🌷Thespian sweetheart by orchidsinnewyork (16k)

Harry definitely was not. He’d stopped listening.

Across the room, someone had caught his eye. 

The stranger’s light brown hair fell into wisps, framing his mask. His cheekbones could be seen even with half his face covered, and his slender fingers were brushing along the buttons of his coat. He was smiling even though he had no one in company. He seemed to glow as he stood under a chandelier, the fragments of glass reflecting bursts of light onto his frame.

Harry had never seen someone like that before. He’d been staring for too long, completely ignoring Count Paris as his gaze focused on the stranger. And he hadn’t realised it until the stranger turned his head, and their eyes met.

Harry saw his lips part, and curled into a small smile as he removed his mask. Staring back at Harry were a pair of brilliant blue eyes, twinkling at him like twin stars. The stranger winked at him, and his head felt giddy. 

~

Uni AU where Harry participates in a Theatre production, and is supposed to perform a stage kiss that winds up becoming quite real. Featuring awkward encounters, insane dreams, OT5 and peanut butter.

🌷I'll look after you by @elmeiko88 (M, 15k)

I mean, when Harry inherited his late uncle's hybrid, he didn't necessarily expect this...

Where Louis is a nice hybrid cat who's never lived with anyone but an old man, and who discovers the freedom of living with Harry...

🌷I dig your cinema by @silverstuff50 (E, 13k)

It wasn’t that Louis didn’t want to see Harry’s latest film; it was a tragically pathetic fact that Louis had watched every single show and film, every interview, every red carpet that Harry had done since his ex-boyfriend had decided to leave Uni in the second year and pursue an acting career.

It's just that he wanted to watch it on his own, in his flat, with a soft blanket, beer, ice cream, and a large box of tissues.

🌷licking sugar off taboos, we pour wild honey and wine over the walls by @larentslovebot (E, 10k)

Louis Tomlinson is a big name in the industry. A lyrical mastermind, who does not appear in public and dedicates his existence to music. Deciding to find aspiring musicians for his label, he expected to tutor young talents and make them the next heads of show business. What he didn't expect was to meet Harry Styles, omega with attitude and a captivating scent.

🌷Woke up feeling knotty by @jaerie (E, 8k)

Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof. When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them. Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

🌷I'll keep you warm by @parmahamlarrie (T, 6k)

Louis is the kind of guy who keeps his head down and minds his own business. He’s lived on the same street for years and barely would recognize the buildings, let alone his neighbours. That’s all about to change however, due to a broken key and an unexpected snow storm.

🌷Pretty and preposterous by @brightlyharry (5k)

Harry donates a copy of Pride and Prejudice to his little free library. He never expects what comes next.

🌷What the silence said by @larrysballetslippers (E, 3k)

“Our lives were just beginning, our favourite moment was right now, our favourite songs were unwritten. ‘Love is a mixtape’, Rob Sheffield.”

Or, Louis has tried to ask Harry, the quiet and cute librarian at his local library, out for some time. He never expected that quoting Harry's favourite books work so well for him. A very silent Valentine's day fic.

[my-insanity-is-an-artform]

Shitten Shenanigans AU – The Fall of Death

Lamb heaved deep shuddering breaths as they glared at the now diminished form of Nar- The One Who Waits. Their body throbbed with pain and their heart was pounding so hard they thought it might burst from their chest, but all of that paled in comparison to the sheer rage that thundered through their veins.

How DARE HE?!

HOW DARE HE AFTER ALL HE AND HIS SIBLINGS HAD PUT THEM THROUGH?!

WAS IT NOT ENOUGH THAT THEIR WHOLE SPECIES AND FAMILY HAD BEEN STOLEN FROM THEM THAT HE WOULD TAKE THEIR CHILD TOO?!

Lamb stalked towards The One Who Waits, their sword scraping against the floor, as he tried to sit up only for Lamb to stomp a harsh hoof in the middle of his chest, crushing him against the ground. He struggled against it weakly, glaring up at Lamb with bared teeth.

“You’ve supplanted me. A vessel no more, now a crowned deity, you damned lamb!” He hissed furiously. “Will you be a merciful coward or a vengeful false idol, you traitor?!”

Hefting the sword above their head, Lamb sneered down at their former divine patron. “For Asha, I would slay as many gods as I need too! Especially ones that betray me first.”

The anger suddenly drained from The One Who Waits’ face, leaving confused furrowed eyes, and he ceased struggling. “…What nonsense do you speak of?”

The sudden change of emotion stayed Lamb’s hand for a moment and for some reason, they answered. “You betrayed our deal first. You demanded the sacrifice of your most devoted follower, YOUR OWN CHILD! MY CHILD!”

Rage swiftly returned to The One Who Waits’ face and he snarled back, a sudden burst of energy as he shoved the hoof off his chest and reached for Lamb. “I’D NO SOONER SACRIFICE AYM AND BAAL THAN I WOULD ASHA, YOU FOOLISH LAMB! THEY ARE NOT MY FOLLOWERS, BUT MY STUDENTS! MY CHOSEN SONS AND CHILD! MINE!”

Lamb dropped the sword and dipped out of the way of the fallen deity’s grasp, flipping him over. “YOU CALL THEM YOUR MOST DEVOTED FOLLOWER! CONSTANTLY! ALL OF US DID!”

He managed to roll to his feet and dodged their own lunge. “I WAS SPEAKING OF YOU!”

The air seemed to still as the rage within Lamb’s snuffed itself out just as quickly as it had arisen when Narinder had first spoken of a sacrifice. “…What?”

Narinder snarled as he drew himself up, lacking the monstrous height he once had but still a good foot over Lamb. “You were my most devoted follower. It was your sacrifice I spoke of!” He paused for a moment as something akin to hurt intermingled with the rage. “You truly believed I would command such a thing upon my own? Even after I had given my word no harm should ever come to them under my protection.”

Lamb tilted their jaw up stubbornly, their anger growing anew yet at a much dimmer level. “You ordered the death of your own siblings. Why would it seem such a stretch?” They knew the answer as soon as they said it.

The hurt faded as rage covered it up again, the force of such causing Narinder to shake. “My siblings betrayed me and bound me! They committed genocide for fear of me! They deserved their fates as you well know!”

Lamb flexed their fingers. “…They were still your family once. Besides, why not simply say? Why call for your most devoted’s death when you knew that is what we called Asha?”

“I had thought you would have a modicum of intelligence to recognise it was not the child that I spoke of!”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t insist on dressing up your orders, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“Why would you think I commanded you to leave the child with the rat if I wished for their death!?”

“You command a lot of contradictory things! Sacrifice a follower, resurrect them! Oh here’s a ritual to brainwash your followers but if you tell them to not consume strange substances, they’ll work harder at the cost of falling sick when you brainwash them!” Lamb stalked towards Narinder and jabbed a finger into his chest. “’Take Asha to Ratau’s then bring them here to die!’ is not out of character for you!”

He grabbed their hand and moved it to the side, gripping it harshly. “I sent Asha to that useless rat so that they would not have to watch! To see you sacrificed in my name would have caused them harm for how much they love you! For however much they adored your visits, they cried at every death!”

Lamb snapped their teeth in his face. “And what would you have told them?! When I never appeared again? Would you have told them the honest truth, that you had me killed? Or would you have lied to them as well?!”

Narinder grabbed them by the shoulders and shook them roughly as if to somehow rattle sense into them. “THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO NEED FOR YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN BY MY SIDE!”

“THE HELLS DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!”

“RESURRECTION, YOU FOOLISH LAMB! LIFE GIVEN ANEW WITH THE PROMISE OF ETERNITY AS MY WITNESS! A VOW THAT YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN FREE TO RAISE ASHA OPENLY AND IN SAFETY UNDER MY WATCH!”

Silence reigned across the blazing field of the afterlife as the two stared at each other, their breaths intermingling as they panted. The Red Crown still discarded aside.

The pain started to creep in along the edges of Lamb’s vision. “…Swear to me it was me and not them.”

Narinder started to sway as the last vestiges of his own energy began to drain away, but even then pure honesty shone in his eyes. “It was always you, Lamb.” He seemed to be staying on his feet out of pure stubbornness and by the grip he still had on Lamb’s arms. “So what is to become of me now? Will you slay me like my siblings or are you a merciful coward?”

The crown finally returned to Lamb's head.

They reached out and grabbed him as he lost the fight against his injuries. Pulling him gently into their embrace, they slowly lowered to the ground and pressed a hand to his chest, summoning the indoctrination circle below him. They couldn’t help the way they tucked him closer to their body.

“If it makes me a coward to prevent my child’s sorrow at the loss of their father, then a coward I must be.”

Narinder sputtered a bitter chuckle as his eyes went hazy with pain and betrayal. “I will not forgive you.”

“Can you blame me for doing what I thought was to protect Asha?”

Silence again before something passed over Narinder's face and he closed his eyes.

"...No, vessel. I suppose I cannot."

With that, Narinder fell into the blackness of the teleportation, leaving Lamb alone in a field of damnation and the feeling of bitterness.

______

This.... was a lot less cracky than I thought it would be when I started. I was going do like a fade to black in the middle of the argument to the POV of one of the cultists who are watching what is essentially a marital spat between their leader and their god, but it didn't fit the vibe.

This Narinder never lies. He doesn't always tell the truth but he doesn't lie. Which is why Lamb took him at face value when he said he wanted to kill his most devoted and when he said everything here.

They're both too proud to have an actual conversation about this until they get locked in the confessional by the kids.

Narinder also feels a bit tame but, 1) he's currently in shock at the loss of godhood, 2) he just spent the past couple of years co-parenting with Lamb which bonded them closer than in canon and 3) its my au and I do what I want.

Asha is my shitten's name which fun fact means hope/wish/desire in Sanskrit (same origin as Narinder's name) and life/longevity in Arabic/ Swahili which I thought was cute.

[cdelphiki]

“Jason, let me explain,” Clark said, once they’d finally left Perry’s office.

He had to just about holler it, because Jason was making a beeline right for his stuff. He was going to email Perry the article as requested, then leave.

That’s what he needed to do. He needed to leave.

Bruce. Bruce fucking knew, he’d bought Jason’s way into this damn job, everyone knew he was just a little trust fund baby. He hadn’t told anyone about having little siblings he’s looking out for. They probably all thought he went home to his fancy ass mansion with his rich dad everyday and didn’t have a damn worry in the world.

That’s why everyone was so annoyed with him, why they all didn’t like that he was there. Jason had worked hard for every single thing he’d ever gotten in life, and then some, but it wasn’t like anyone would ever see that.

[mercurygray]

#76 broken pieces for whatever two characters you would like, please.

I have a brainwave that these two needed to share a scene - so here they are.

This was the third date this month.

It felt funny, saying that, that Molly was going on a date, but Billie wasn't sure she had any other word for when a fellow dropped by in a nice suit, picked up a girl in a nice dress, and the two of them went out to dinner.

A date. Could you even imagine? It was Berlin and the war was over and they were going on dates again, real dates, where you spent time cleaning yourself up first and the fellow actually had a front door to show up at. Not like they'd done during the war, where a date could be meeting a guy for dinner in the next foxhole, or sharing a blanket, or watching a fire. Any spare five minutes alone.

But here he was, on the front mat, shoes shined and hair combed. She wondered what they were paying him - his suit looked too nice for Berlin. Everything here was shabby after six years of war, and he looked out of place in the hallway. "Mr. Rosenthal." She opened the door and let him inside before returning to her seat at the table.

"Sergeant Mitchell."

"She's almost ready - she found a run in her stocking and had to change."

He shrugged. "We're not in any hurry."

Billie nodded, and returned cagily to her magazine, glancing up to follow his eyes around the room, taking in the small bits of art on the walls, some of it stuck up with tape, the calendar in the kitchen, the dishes in the drainer by the sink.

George Stout wasn't ever one for running a really military outfit, and the fact that they were Army without the Army meant private billeting rather than barracks. It was just the two of them in the apartment, though there were several other officers in the building, which was run by an absolutely ancient little old lady who knew very little English. (Molly was trying to learn German, just to get by a little with her, but the Army phrasebook wasn't getting them very far.)

He looked a picture, standing there in the front room - you could say that much. He would have looked even more handsome in class As, with that dark dark brown bringing his eyes out in full force and the mustache that made him look like Tyrone Power. An easy charmer, one of the gang would have said. But she'd known easy charmers before. What do you know about him, Mol? Like, really know? Apart from the blue eyes and the curly hair and the manners and the smile and the fact that he can't sing? He's been coming here for a month and what is he? A hotshot pilot and a lawyer and what else? What's he hiding? Where's the catch?

Because there's always a catch, isn't there? With a boy like that. He's too good.

Billie rose from her chair and moved to put her now-cold cup of coffee in the sink. "I don't think she ever told me where you're from, Mr. Rosenthal."

"Brooklyn - Flatbush."

Billie had a sudden desire to call up Ruth and ask her what she knew about flyerboys from Flatbush. "And you still have family there? Parents, siblings? Girlfriend?"

He nodded. "My mother, and my sister." He smiled a little. "And no girlfriend."

Notice I didn't ask about a wife. "You still close with them?"

His smile never wavered for a moment. "My mother writes me nearly every week. Sister less often, but she'll put a word in Mom's."

"And your firm, are they - are they taking you back, when this is over?"

"I'm sure they will be." He moved closer to the kitchen and looked her in the eye. "You know, I could provide personal references, if that would take less time, Sergeant. Former commanding officers, friends - my rabbi." He smiled at her surprise. "I'm a lawyer. I know what an interrogation looks like."

Billie squared up, her eyes meeting his with no hint now of gentle prying. If you thought the rabbi was going to trip me up, I'll tell you now I don't care. "I like having all the facts." And the fact is that I don't know you, Robert Rosenthal, and I don't like that.

"And the fact that I like Molly an awful lot?"

See, you say that and I believe you, and I hate that I do. "Lots of guys can say they like a girl, Mr. Rosenthal. Maybe even use the word love. Doesn't mean a thing later. I'm trying to establish intention and motive." There's been a war on. People say things they don't mean all the time. Isn't that why you have a job?

He was watching her with a kind of respect in his eyes, smile tugging at his mouth. "Have you ever considered becoming a lawyer, Sergeant?"

Billie felt off balance at the compliment. "The bar wouldn't have me."

He laughed at her casual brutalism, and glanced down at his shoes, considering his next words very carefully. "When you fly a bomber, the only guys you trust are the other nine in the plane with you. Imagine it's the same in a foxhole."

"After they've given you a reason to, sure."

"Guess I'll just have to work on that, then."

It was then, of course, when they were nose to nose and eye to eye that Molly walked in, beautiful in her dress uniform. "Billie Mitchell, are you interrogating him?"

Rosie stepped back, supremely unconcerned by all of it. "It's all right, Mol. We were just talking. It never hurt to have friends who care."

He calls her Mol. And he calls me Sergeant, because he knows we're not friends yet. That's what Ron did, too.

Billie met Molly's eye with a clenched jaw, almost afraid of what she'd find there. It's what you did for me, isn't it, care? And I never listened. But you're smarter and better than me, and you deserve better, too, better than broken promises and broken pieces of a heart. And if he is what he says, you deserve him, Molly. You deserve the world. And if he's not then I'll bury him.

"No," Molly said, softening a little, realizing what they were saying. "No, it never did." She sniffed and checked the fastening on her purse, fiddled with a button. "Will you wait up?"

Billie shook her head. "You'd better take the key. I'm not going out."

Molly nodded, grabbing the key and its chain from where it hung near the door and closing the door behind her as she and Rosie left. He would ask her, at dinner, what that had all been about, and perhaps Molly would tell him - or not. She fell in love with a guy she thought she knew. It ended like you think it did.

[arandompigeon5]

Wrote like four paragraphs of my fic based around some weird fucking coal metaphor at like half twelve the other night but it’s got me thinking about riptide and fire as anger

Chip gaining his fire magic to me is a manifestation of his anger. He’s always been hot headed and irritable but it was for surface level stuff, and mostly a persona he wore to keep himself safe. I think the further into the campaign he gets, and the more he accepts how good he has it now, he realises truly how many people failed him. Where are his parents? Why did not one single good person after the black rose decide to take him in? Why are his friends favoured by the goddesses? Where were those goddesses for him, when he spent years all alone and with nothing to call his own? Why wasn’t he saved?

his fire is the pure rage that flows through him. His fire is every person who ever looked up to the sky and asked ‘why me? Why did this happen to me?’ His fire is the realisation that it wasn’t his fault— it was never ever his fault.

and again, when he left Reuben’s gang, he set the place on fire. He couldn’t deal with what he’d done so he burnt the whole place to the ground, ridding the land of his sin. And maybe that’s what his magic is: an attempt to rid his body and kind of every terrible thing that ever happened to him.

Jay’s relationship with fire is complicated. It’s always been a symbol of her family, something she used to take pride in. But her firey orange hair looks too much like Ava’s and worst of all her fathers, and the more she learns about her family the more she hates it.

fire is what surrounds her father on his worst days, when she doesn’t recognise him anymore due to the formalities and the ruthlessness and the yelling. Fire is what spread to her when she almost betrayed her friends, when she shot gillion. Fire hurts and fire is evil and fire is her family and she doesn’t know what to make of that.

And now fire is chip. And maybe that recontextualises it for her, or maybe it scares her more. Because she has lost two siblings to fire, and maybe she’s next.

Gillion doesn’t have many fire motifs, but I will place lightning under this category. Lightning is something that has always followed Gillion around. He’s been struck by it god knows how many times, but it’s also part of his magic. I don’t think he harbours the same kind of anger as the other two. He experiences it in a different way. He uses it.

lightning is a tool through which Gillion has learnt to focus his anger. He uses it in battle, and that’s mostly the only time we see him with any outward anger. Sure, he’s not the calmest and chillest of people, but that’s for different reasons. His morals are important to him, but he cares a lot about defending them the ‘correct’ way.

Lightning takes the discipline he was taught as a child, and combines it with his high energy, crazy personality. Lightning means using all of his resources, and making old techniques his own. Lightning is the power to protect those he cares about

I’m supposed to be writing my fic but I did this instead…

[frogoru]

posted this and then deleted it really quickly earlier. here she is again!! in all of her bothered-looking glory!!

if you wanna hear me ramble about her issues with marriage/commitment + a few other things i am about to do so right now!!!!!

"With her sharp smile and easy-going demeanor, Moxie's the type of woman that will drop everything to give you a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on. She's a very touchy person, and it's really easy for her to grow comfortable around others. Physical affection is something that she values very deeply, and being able to feel the warmth of those around her brings her a sense reassurance. This eagerness to feel close to other beings is not exclusive to friendships in the slightest. Neon lights, shining stars, and quick flings make up most of her world. Romance has never been an easy thing for Moxie, and past events within her life that tore her down greatly make the possibility of a committed relationship sound hopeless to her. While she messes around quite often, it's common for her to keep her lovers emotionally closed off. Things can get pretty confusing for her in the event that she does catch feelings." (A snippet from her description page).

okay okay so... moxie is no stranger to promiscuity. she sleeps around a lot for the fun of it and holds casual sexual relationships with multiple people. though, despite how much action she gets in her current life, moxie has only ever been in one committed relationship.

when she was younger, the goat girl grew up in a loving, but strict household. her parents were very caring towards her and her siblings, but due to the city of hell's unmoderated nature, they found it important to keep a close eye on their children. they tried to limit the amount of outside influence that their little trip of goat kids had, and because of this, moxie didn't have as much freedom as most other children who grew up in the nightly realm. her parents were pretty firm with her when it came to things they deemed bad influences. they wanted her to stay on the right track and felt that if they weren't strict with the things she indulged in, she'd lose herself in the limelight of their bright, pleasure-focused city. moxie, who felt like she was missing out on the excitement that the world had to offer, naturally had a problem with this. despite her negative feelings about her family's parenting ways, moxie was alright. she was pretty moody in her teenage years, but nothing too bad happened.

up until the end of them, that is.

now, moxie's family had a pretty structured mindset when it came to running things. they weren't the only group of hell-dwellers who held this view and had another family close to them that shared it as well. it's reasonable, after all. don't want your offspring to focus on the wrong things in life, y'know? especially in such a poorly moderated realm, but anyways, back to that other family. while moxie's relatives were all goat-like demons, this family was on the more ferocious side. they all had wolf-like features and mostly straight, sharp horns.

while growing up, moxie came to know some of them pretty well. especially one boy, the eldest son of the family. i'm going to be so real with you right now i literally just named him like five seconds ago for this ramble but UM his name is name damian. so, moxie and damian. they're both the eldest children in their respective families, so they relate to each other in that regard pretty well. moxie is kind of indifferent about him when they first meet each other (they'd both be preteens), but after hanging out more, the two of them would grow close.

(this is him as an adult by the way. i just figured his design out yesterday)

moxie is pretty focused on school and academic stuff when she's young, so irritation due to lack of energy is usual for her. she gets kinda snappy at times because she's struck with a curse called "being teenage girl." damian finds her annoyed remarks towards him kind of amusing and further provokes her at times, but it usually ends in the two of them laughing it off together.

as a result of spending so much time together, their families take notice and are like "aww do you guys like each other ;)) aww," to which the two of them are like "EWWW no!!" but they do. they do like each other. moxie is pretty surprised by this because she doesn't really feel romantic attraction to other people often, but considering how close the two of them are, it sort of makes sense to her. the two of them start dating in the middle of their teen years.

i would be lying if i said the start of their relationship wasn't kickstarted by their families constantly annoying them about it though. in fact, this is something that kind of contributes to the end of their relationship.

after the two of them graduate and proceed to begin the rest of their lives, damian's family starts nagging him about tying the knot with moxie. he thinks about it for a little while and is like "yeahh we probably could." a little while after that, he plans a proposal date and goes over everything. him and moxie meet up in a public place to hang out, and damian gets on one knee and declares his wishes of marriage to her and all that jazz. moxie, who had no idea this was going to happen, gawks at him in shock. she says no and the two of them leave in an awkward silence, ignoring the sympathetic and nosy stares from onlookers around them.

the two of them go to moxie's place after the failed proposal, and she asks what in hell he was thinking. she tells him that the proposal was too sudden for her and that she feels like he's rushing into things. they literally just graduated, and moxie wants to live her life first. damian tells her that he understands and begrudgingly apologizes. does this do anything? no, not really, because after that, his family gets on his ass about it. the pressure that they give him about starting his own family and becoming a responsible man and all of that annoying stuff starts to seep into how he treats moxie in their relationship. moxie also deals with this sort of thing from her family, because knowing them, their relatives have probably been gossiping with one another about. they nag her about that cliché "when are you going to settle down and have kids >:(" stuff a lot, and hearing damian attempt to bring up the topic more and more does not help in the slightest.

moxie tries her best to be understanding about everything, but it's hard to do that when she hasn't even decided what she wants for herself yet. she doesn't understand why she has to rush into these things, and talking about it with her relatives always ends in her being lectured or spoken to condescendingly. a bit of time passes after damian's first proposal, and his family pushes him to try again. not wanting to disappoint them, he gives it another try. moxie's response is the same, but before she can begin to complain about everything again, damian holds her hand rather forcefully and asks why she's being so difficult about this. moxie stares at him in confused, baffled by his sudden attitude. she asks him what's up with all of this, and he begins to go on about everything his family has told him about moving on in this new path of life or whatever.

he kind of starts... guilt-tripping her?? he goes on about how hard this is for him and doesn't really acknowledge how everything is affecting her as well. he tells that he's been thinking about the direction their relationship is going, and that the things his family has told him have been starting to click in his mind. he feels like getting married early on and ensuring their reliance on each other would help with avoiding outside forces that threaten their bond, and he essentially just repeats over and over again about how this is probably the best option for the two of them.

staring up at the boy she's loved for most of her youth, moxie starts feeling guilty about how she's handled the subject. she takes his words to heart and wonders if she's really just been insensitive this whole time. after all, relationships require sacrifice. her eyes glance at everywhere but damian as she thinks to herself, letting her worriful thoughts take the reins of her mind. she finds it hard to say no to him. so, she intertwines their fingers and hesitantly says yes.

it's not long before the fateful day arrives. their friends and families are all ecstatic. moxie sits alone, staring at herself in her wedding gown. she's had mixed feelings about the whole thing, and these feelings haven't changed one bit. the ceremony is today and she's still worried about what her future holds. she bites her lip, attempting to hold back tears that threaten to spill. she tells herself that she's being dramatic about this, and that things will be okay. after all, she'll still live after everything's over.

she's not even sure why she's so upset, to be honest. moxie loves damian, and the natural step after dating for such a long time is to get married, right? she knew this was bound to happen some way or another. she loves him, so she's very conflicted about not wanting to do this. she shouldn't be sad. she shouldn't be sitting alone in the restroom, wiping her tears away as mascara streams down her face. she gets up and stares at herself in the mirror, puffy eyes and all. this isn't her. this isn't the girl she's stared at in the mirror all of these years. she furrows her brows in frustration, a sense of realization coming over her. she doesn't want to do this. it's too soon.

she goes over to wherever damian is and tells him she wants to talk. damian looks confused for a moment, but ultimately knows what the deal is. the two of them get into an argument about everything that's happening. she tells him how she feels about everything and that she no longer wants to pretend to be okay with it for the sake of their family's feelings. damian berates her for being so careless, asking how she could be alright with just throwing everything away like that, especially now. they continue yelling at each other, before moxie straight up just walks out without another word. she goes straight home and packs her things. she's done getting lectured about who or what she should be, and promptly runs away from home.

her family tries to reach out to her, but she ignores their calls. although she's technically an adult at this point in time, she literally just began adulthood, so everything that's being thrown at her right now just takes a huge toll on her mental health. her emotions kind of blur her vision and cause her to make rash decisions. she meets up with damian a while after that whole thing happens and ends up breaking things off with him (wow what a surprise) and he doesn't take this well at all. he gets really upset and ermmm let's just say they don't end on good terms!!!! moxie's family isn't too fond of her either. the whole wedding event was incredibly embarrassing to them, and they tell her not to return home anytime soon. they're ashamed of her actions and view her as selfish for doing what she's done. she still keeps in touch with her younger siblings, but who sympathize with her.

as moxie grows older and continues to live her life, she refrains from entering any romantic relationships. this isn't too bad, considering romance doesn't come easy to her, but she does miss the comfort and warmth of having someone to love. i think this feeling is how she starts getting into hookup culture and stuff like that. she desires affection and love, but the concept of being committed to someone scares her pretty badly after everything that's happened. she's terrified of growing close to someone and devoting herself to them, only for something like that to happen again.

her relationship with thalia is really confusing to her because of this. she loves thalia a lot, but it feels so hard to devote herself to her. the two of them act like a couple and do things that take their friendship to the next level, but neither of them really talk about it in fear of ruining what they have. moxie thinks that if the two of them talked about it, then she'd probably be expected to give up her lifestyle for a committed relationship. you can't have your cake and eat it too, as they say.

despite what moxie thinks, thalia would be okay with letting her do what she wants. she knows that moxie lives a different life from her, and all she really wants is to continue loving her. she wants to be someone important to her. the thing that bothers thalia when it comes to their weird little situationship is the fact that moxie doesn't explicitly regard thalia as someone more than a friend that she sleeps with. having grown up in the heavenly realm, thalia was never really familiar with the concept of "friends with benefits" until her friendship with moxie turned into that. sex has always been something you do with someone you love to her, and the concept of doing it for fun with a stranger has always been pretty foreign to her. while she's still trying to wrap her mind around it all, she doesn't want to force moxie into doing anything she doesn't want to do.

[fleurdelait]

Question…

do y’all ever think about the bishop’s original parents? like I see them as very much found family so sometimes I wonder if Shamura can remember waking up one morning, alone in a web with no sign of their parents. Does Kallamar remember that game his original siblings played with him? Does Narinder remember the song his mother sang while fishing at the pier? Does Heket remember the glowing morning dew outside her childhood home? Does Leshy remember the complex tunnels he’d make with his dad?…

But they don’t, and no one should expect them to. They were all so young afterall :(

Excuse me i’m going to go cry now