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gothic-thoughts · 2 months ago

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Get What You Ask For

(sry bout the mini hiatus, almost scrapped this shit like twice and had nothin else to post 🙄)

Ghost Riley x Black Fem Reader Smut

MDNI, Princess!Reader, Black Knight!Ghost, Bodyguard!Ghost

Part 2: Right Here

CW: trying to seduce him but he flips it on you, fingering in bath, not proofread

Word Count: 2182 (give or take)

Yes, you were the princess but that doesn't mean you didn't have a curfew. It was for your safety but you didn't care. The village was always prettier at night and you can only see the edge of it from your window. It wasn't fair and knowing that, you always managed to escape from the palace. Tonight was supposed to be the same as all the others until you opened your door and jumped back, clutching your chest at the sight of a Black Knight blocking your doorway. Despite his dark metal helmet resting under his arm, you still couldn’t see his face thanks to the black face mask that hid everything but his eyes.

"Princess." He bowed at his waist respectfully.

You stammer in confusion for half a second before composing yourself enough to bow back. “Good evening...?”

"You really like pushing your curfew a little farther every night, don't you?" He said in a low, mocking tone.

“And who, pray tell, are you?”

"I’m Simon Riley; they call me 'Ghost'."

“And what are you doing at my door...?”

"I have been assigned as your new bodyguard. It seems I've come at the perfect time."

You scoff in disbelief. “New? What happened to my old one?”

"Fired.” He said bluntly, sidestepping you as he walked into your room, “I'm afraid it's been decided that he cannot be trusted with your safety."

You groan slightly, shutting the door. “Who decided that!? The maids couldn’t have, they always comment on how good of an influence he was being.”

Simon didn’t answer for a bit, making you rest your hands on your hips and watch as he looked around. You watch his eyes dart about, taking note of everything in your room from the windows to the bathing area. He peeked through the curtains and looked out into the gardens below but little did you know he was envisioning how you escaped every night. He chuckles to himself and when you call his name in annoyance, he pulls the curtains shut before turning to look at you.

“Not a good enough influence it seems, seeing that you’re all dressed up for another secret night out.”

“Tell me who got Brian fired!”

Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, "The King, Princess." He said in a deadpan voice.

“What? You’re joking.”

“I don’t get paid to joke with you, I get paid to watch you.”

“That... That bastard hired a Black Knight to watch me instead of a different palace guard!? I know it might not have mattered, but I am not some criminal! Ugh, I can’t believe him!”

"I'm sure you'll live."

“Hush! You can't stay anyway, I haven't bathed yet so you'll have to go...”

“You have a divider; I’ll stand by the bed.”

“Uh, no. You're supposed to stand outside and guard the door.”

"Maybe your old guard. I've been given permission to remain by your side at all times.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

"Did I stutter?" Ghost starts walking, “Since you managed to sneak out, what, your father told me 15 times? You're stuck with me 24/7 until further notice, Princess, whether you like it or not. Bathing is the least of your worries."

The Black Knight was now standing right in front of you while you tried to play off how intimidating his intensity was with a disinterested groan despite feeling slightly defeated. You had planned to see the fountain in front of the village gates tonight only for it to be ruined by your father and your newly assigned guard dog. You begrudgingly walk over to the bathing area and pull the divider in front of the tub with a huff of frustration before running the bath. You put your hair up in a bun then drop your gown to the floor as a desperate, last-choice idea popped into your head.

An idea that you've never tried on a knight, or had to try. Once naked, you step into the bubble bath and sit down, leaning back against the porcelain until I was up to my neck in hot water and soap bubbles. Ghost leaned against your bedpost, waiting for you to finish. He was used to staying by princesses and guarding them, but you were more of a pain than the others. He glanced at your discarded gown and then at the frosted glass separating you from him. You clear your throat, ready to put your plan into action.

“What village are you from, Ghost?”

"None that you would recognize, Miss." He called back.

“I'm guessing you’re betrothed.”

"What makes you say that?"

“Well you're a big, strong knight... a soldier. Women adore feeling protected... So I was thinking one had tried to get you off the market.”

Your comment caught him off guard for a moment but he quickly recomposed himself, looking at the between you two again.

"I’m not wed, Princess.”

“Mm... no women have captured your heart~? That's a shame...”

He scoffs to himself, rolling his eyes, “You think so?”

“I would think women would be clamoring to see what you look like under your helmet since intensity can be very attractive.”

"Princess, how long do you plan to stay in that tub?"

“I, um... need my towel! I must've left it out there, could you... bring it over?”

His eyes narrowed; it wasn't unusual for princesses to ask him for things, but this just seemed a bit too sketchy. He weighed his options for a moment before sighing to himself. He walked over to the bed and found the towel you had left behind then slowly approached the divider, his eyes narrowed the closer he got all while you smiled at the fact your plan was working.

“You can come around... I'm under the bubbles...”

Simon hesitated for a moment, getting the feeling you were up to something. He steps around the wall of frosted glass and glances at the bubbles that shroud every part of your body except the top of your breasts and up. He sighed before slowly stepping closer to the foot of your tub, his eyes never leaving your obscured body.

"Here's your towel, Princess."

He held out the towel towards the water, his eyes darting to the bubbles for a moment, thinking as you leaned forward, risking exposing more of your breasts to reach for the towel. He knows a princess would never do that— risk their modesty for a towel. Right as your fingers were about to get the soft fabric, Ghost quickly moved the towel just barely out of your reach, eyebrow-raising as your face changed.

“Wha- Ghost—”

"You didn’t really think I’d fall for that, did you Princess?”

“What are you talking about, I haven't done anything!”

"You think I was born yesterday?" He steps around the bathtub until he squats behind you, whispering, "You and I both know that you were trying to pull.”

You look over your shoulder, “What are you talking about?”

“The old 'accidentally drop the towel' trick."

“I was not!”

"Oh and I'm supposed to believe that?"

“Yes, I may have snuck out but I—”

“You sound extremely defensive for someone who didn't try to pull that stunt."

“Because I didn’t! I would never!”

"If you say so, Princess. Then why did you ask me to bring you your towel?"

“Because...”

You tilt your head to the side to escape the nice feeling of his warm breath on your neck, Even though you tried to move away, you weren't fast enough. When you tilted your head to the side, it only brought his face closer to your neck, his breath grazing over your skin.

“Because...?”

“Because I forgot it—“

"Really?"

“Yes.” You snap, “I didn't know forgetting was an issue.”

“No, the issue is you want your bodyguard to see you...” You hear Simon drop the towel, “Covered in nothing but bubbles...” He gently wraps his hand around your neck, “In the hopes that I’d just crumble and let you go live la vida fucking loca...” He tilts your head back until you can see his eyes, “Just like your last guard did. Is that right?”

You tense, trembling slightly as you search for any words to reply with. How was he doing this to you with fear? You were a Princess— the daughter of his king— he wasn’t supposed to talk to you this boldly, much less touch you like this. You knew he was a different type of knight but that always meant he was brutal and such but this was different.

You were now terrified of him since he didn’t care about any rules or regulations regarding touching a princess, that, and the fact that he could break your neck right here with a single grunt. He was terrifying but you were so consumed by curiosity, you didn’t dare say anything to make him think that you wanted him to stop touching you. A low sigh escaped Ghost’s lips as he looked down at you, his cold eyes meeting yours for the first time.

“You very are a difficult person to guard, you know that?” He gently squeezes your throat, his thumb running over your pulse in a slow, taunting manner, “And the worst part of that is you're only difficult because you won't let me."

You gasp as his other hand comes around and slides down into the bubbles to massage your breasts, rough fingers pinching your nipple and rolling it back and forth.

“Y-you...”

“Mhm? What is it Princess?”

“Y-you can't touch me like th-this...”

He scoffed and tilted your head so you were looking into his eyes again. “So you can try to manipulate me... and now you’re telling me what I can and can’t do?”

“Well, I-I...”

“You’ve been nothing but a nuisance since I arrived, trying to get me to let down my guard. You’ve played your games and now it’s my turn.”

His hands were roaming your body, caressing every inch as he pleased. Eventually, his hand lowers deeper into the water, keeping your head tilted back as his hands slot between your thighs, making you gasp and tense up, looking up at him. He feels you stiffen beneath him but continues to tease your body slowly. He could see that you were having trouble fighting the words on your lips as he explored every inch of your body in the water. Slowly, one of his fingers slips deeper between your legs, gently grazing over your core to test your reaction.

“O-Oh my god...”

“Mm?”

He chuckled lowly and gently massaged between your folds, feeling the warmth radiating from your body. He was slowly getting addicted to it and you were getting so needy. He didn’t want this to end. Simon leaned forward a bit more, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as he spoke.

“Still going to sit there and keep insisting that you didn’t try and trick me?”

Your legs try to close. “I-I wasn't...”

He tsked and shoved your thighs back apart, your knees thudding against the inside of the tub, the fingers slipping inside you.

“Keep 'em open.” His lips lightly brushed over your neck, slowly kissing you before moving back up to continue, "Oh and I don’t believe you.”

He said, gently spreading you open for his fingers to push deeper inside with ease. He could feel every twitch you made as he stroked your walls with slow, circular motions.

“I... I should tell my father about this...

He laughed at your comment and his hand stopped, pulling back from you. He was so close to just giving in and taking you completely.

“You could, Princess." He said bluntly while looking at your flustered face, “Be sure not to leave out the part about you seducing me.”

“You're a Black Knight, you’re not supposed to be seduced...”

He curls his fingers inside you. “And you’re supposed to behave, but that hasn’t stopped either of us from breaking the rules.”

Your head falls back further and rests on the edge of the tub. “Y-you're... a bastard.”

“Mhm.” He said as he gently ran his hand over your clit, pressing a finger into your warmth, “And you’re a spoiled fucking brat.”

You look back down, whimpering at how sexy his muscular arm looked disappearing into the bubbles. His hand moved to grip your cheek so you were looking at him again, loving how flustered and needy you looked as you stared up at him with pleading eyes.

“I wonder what your father would think of this.” His thumb gently grazed over your bottom lip, “He’d be livid wouldn’t he~?”

“Shut it...”

“Or you’ll do what?”

“I'll... I'll get you f-fired...”

His fingers curl, pumping in and out even faster, using his other hand to cover your mouth.

“You won’t.” He hums and gently massages circles on your clit with his thumb, a small smile dancing across his lips, “You’re too busy enjoying this.”

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Part 2 right here y'all

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elizabethsproctor · 4 months ago

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then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, “though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” i said, “art sure no craven,"

chapter ii

Davos Blackwood x Bracken OC Davos is the eldest son of Lord Samwell of House Blackwood and the scourge of all the knights and squires of House Bracken. Though he thinks himself a knight and concerned with duty and honor, he spends most of his free time with his own squires, tormenting all the Brackens that they happen upon. Celeste Feathers is the bastard daughter born of Amos Bracken and a Summer Isle whore. At the chance of a higher dowry for her daughter, the baby was sent to live with her father in the wet and windy Riverlands until a husband was chosen for her. Though the two had a chance encounter as children, they have only heard stories about each other in the meantime until one fateful day near the boundary line in the forest. wc: 7.4k/11.5k chapter: 2/?

tw: nsfw (sex!), mentions of sa

It took Celeste the night, and the next night, day, and day after that to get her thoughts clear. She could still feel Davos's body on hers, and she wondered if anyone could see the scourge of her betrayal on her face, on her wrists where he had grabbed her. She had considered that, by day two, everything coercing her thoughts into horrible actions was fueled by lust but on the day that she was meant to meet him, she started to consider that she really wanted to see him. And he her. He had agreed, and she had made no promise of what would happen, but she was excited. Celeste was determined that she would stand her ground and say a million and one things that the boy would have no rebuttal to, or maybe they would talk about history or... perhaps he wouldn't even show. She shook her head. That wasn't an option.

She was overwhelmed with the thought that he was across the river, waiting for her and thinking of her. Her annoying and conceited enemy, likely stroking himself to her insults. It was enough to giggle about, but she maintained her composure. Celeste knew it was wrong for multiple reasons: she wasn't meant to venture from the castle by herself nor was she meant to fraternize at all unless her maidenhood be called into question. Especially not with a Blackwood. But he had been oddly gentle with her... as if she was someone that he could take care of.

Celeste had always thought that the two houses could find their way out of war, and she surmised that maybe, in his youthful pliability, she could get Davos to hear her side.

Though she had set the time aside to think, her thoughts had not settled on one single opinion. She had promised to meet him however, and her word was her bond.

After supper on the second night, Celeste trekked into the forest, trying to find the same spot that she had met Davos before. It was around a fifteen minute walk, and she was sure that she had overshot it before she caught a glimpse of the boy's red cloak. Scoping the scene before she let a branch crunch beneath her weight, she approached him silently, her hand behind her back.

"I brought you a gift. A peace offering."

Davos had spent the past two nights eagerly anticipating her arrival. He had tried to occupy himself with training, drinking and whoring to pass the time, but every hour of the night, his mind would flit back to the image of her, pressed up against the tree, her body writhing against his.

When she finally crept out of the woods, he felt his heart begin to thump faster in his chest. But, he hid his excitement behind a cocky grin as he watched her approach.

"A gift, eh?" He mused, raising an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

She removed her hand from behind her back to reveal a linen, a pastry inside with a berry and cheese custard. A desert that she had taken before the remains returned to the kitchen for the servants.

"Dessert," Celeste said. "My gift for granting me safe travels when last we saw each other. I know asking you to refrain from debauchery comes at a cost, sweet Lord."

She handed the linen and pastry over to Davos and took a few steps back. "You can keep the linen. It's one of the few without my house's sigil knitted into its fabric."

Davos chuckled softly as he accepted the gift from her, holding it delicately in his hands.

"Safe travels?" He echoed with a smirk. "I suppose that's one way of putting it. I was rather tempted to have my way with you, right there against the tree."

He looked down at the package, his grin widening when he saw that it was a pastry. He wasn't one for sweets usually, but something about the fact that it was a gift from her made it more enticing.

"I guess you do truly like me."

"It could be poisoned," she said quickly with a shrug, her cloak flowing in the wind.

Davos chuckled again as she shrugged and mentioned the possibility of the pastry being poisoned. He raised his eyes to meet hers, his smirk unwavering.

"I doubt you would go through all this trouble just to kill me, little vixen." He said, holding the pastry up for a moment. "Besides, I'd rather risk some poison if it means a chance to lick your berry custard from my lips."

Celeste frowned and rolled her eyes, briefly reminded that Davos was just a boy and his jokes were senseless. "It's hard to imagine that you're highborn and educated when you speak like an Iron Islands jailer... give it a taste, why don't you?" She pointed to the pastry in his hands.

As she frowned and rolled her eyes, Davos couldn't help but grin wider. He enjoyed getting a rise out of her, watching her try and maintain her composure beneath that cold exterior.

"Iron Islands jailer?" He repeated, his smirk turning into a sly smirk. "Is that supposed to be an insult?"

He looked down at the pastry again, holding it up towards his mouth.

"I don't know... what if it is poisoned and you just want to watch me die from it, all because I won't... what was the phrase.. refrain from debauchery."

"We can have it together," Celeste suggested, walking towards Davos and placing her hands within his. She tore a corner off the dessert and placed it into her mouth, never breaking eye contact from him.

"It's worthy of you. I've built up a resistance to the poison within the berries, but you should be fine. A bout of dysentery is usually all that men will suffer," she smiled, a bit of berry staining her teeth before she licked them and smiled, nodding at the dessert, insisting he try it once more.

Davos raised an eyebrow at her suggestion, watching her as she approached him and placed her hands atop his. The feel of her skin against his sent a shiver down his spine, and he found himself holding his breath for a moment.

When she leaned in and tore off a corner of the pastry, he watched with a mixture of fascination and trepidation as she put it into her mouth. Her words about the berry's potential poisoning made him hesitate for a moment, but the sight of her stain her teeth in berry juice pushed him over the edge.

"Well, if you say so," he murmured.

She grasped his hands again and moved them slowly, still holding the dessert, to his mouth until the pastry grazed his lips and he had hardly no other decision than to bite into it.

"This is the part where you bite, puppy."

As her slender fingers guided his hands towards his mouth, Davos felt a stirring in his chest. He couldn't tell if it was excitement or trepidation, but he found himself unable to tear his gaze from hers as she moved his hands closer and closer to his mouth.

When the pastry finally made contact with his lips, he couldn't help but grin at her comment. "Puppy, eh?" He murmured before taking a bite.

The taste of berry custard flooded his mouth, and he chewed slowly, savoring the flavor before swallowing.

"Was that so bad?" Celeste asked, stepping away after she'd lowered her hands from the boy's.

She returned to her former spot, a higher vantage point in the wood, above a dry ravine. She sat on the ground, her knees close to her chest as she looked up at the young man, the evening sun playing on his hair as the trees shimmied above them.

"Must I anticipate an ambush or did you come here alone?"

Davos watched as she stepped away, taking her place on the edge of the ravine. The sight of her, knelt down, her knees drawn up to her chest, was almost enough to send his thoughts spiraling in all kinds of directions. He cleared his throat and shook his head, reminding himself to concentrate.

"No ambush, little vixen," he replied, his eyes never leaving her. "I came alone, just as you asked."

Celeste began again: "I asked you for nothing other than to join me once more," she said emphatically. "Which you did. Why?"

Davos chuckled as she corrected him, his smirk returning to his face. "Fair enough, you didn't ask for anything else. But I came, didn't I?"

He stepped closer to the edge of the ravine, looking down at her. "As to why I came, well... I suppose I had to see you again. There was a debt to be settled between us, remember?"

She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked up at him. "I owe you nothing. You know that."

He chuckled again, his smirk growing wider. "Oh, but you do, little vixen. You owe me for my good behavior that day. If I hadn't been on my best behavior, you might have ended up with a few... bruises."

Grinding her teeth, Celeste looked over her shoulders and at the tree she had, not long before, been pinned against. She wasn't sure if sorrow became or irritation, but she knew she wouldn't let him put her in that position again. She had come willingly.

"I wonder," she said, hoping he would implore her on what was on her mind.

He noticed the way her gaze flitted towards the tree, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. A sly smile crept across his face, and he decided to indulge her.

"Wonder what, sweetling?” He asked, taking a step closer to her. “Do you wonder what might have happened if I wasn't so good to you? What I might have done to you if I had just let myself take what I wanted?"

"No," Celeste shook her head, leaning back onto her elbows, making sure to convey to him that she was not afraid and did not have to guard herself.

Before she spoke, she wished away the migraine that was moving behind her eyes. He was startlingly full of himself.

"I wonder: are you so often rejected by the maids that you think the only way to bed a woman is to force her hand?"

Celeste sucked her teeth, as if to spit on him if he lunged at her. She had built him up in her thoughts during his absence, but she saw him for what he was. A criminal with a title.

"You told me that I was the one that no one wanted. Are we here again to revel like two damaged dolls thrown into the trash?"

As she spoke, Davos felt his smirk falter for a moment. Her words were like a punch to the gut, hitting him right where it hurt. He had never really thought of himself as being rejected when it came to the maids - he had always seen it as just... a game, a challenge. But her words brought him up short. Was it really true? Did he really have to resort to force because he couldn't win a maiden's affections?

He shook his head adamantly. "That's not true," he protested. "I could have any woman I wanted, whenever I wanted."

"Perhaps that's true, and perhaps the most fun part of it for the maidens is to act as if they don't want it. To act like they don't enjoy being pressed against a surface by someone much stronger than them while they fight against them and beg them to stop because the maidens know that without their dignity, their virginity intact, they're worthless, but deep down, they really want it, and they're hoping someone like Lord Davos Blackwood comes and takes it from them, ruining them for all other men," she said this all in flaming spite before jumping, taller than a man because of her place on the ravine.

Davos felt a pang of something deep in his chest as he listened to her words, her voice dripping with spite. He couldn't quite place what it was - anger, perhaps, or defiance - but he didn't like the feeling.

He clenched his fists by his side as he looked up at her, his mouth set in a hard line. "You don't know anything about women," he shot back, his tone harsh. "Or about me. I don't need to force myself on women. They come to me willingly."

"You don't force yourself? That's rich. What was two nights ago? Or your threats to hurt me today? Just for fun? Just a game?"

Stepping closer to him so that the sun would be hidden behind her, she began her diatribe. Possibly an attack on all knights, or maybe simply Davos, but he had made her sick to her stomach. Had they not shared a glint of something special the night before? She shook her head with deep scorn.

"You're small and not worthy of my time. Or a Lord's high seat. More than this, I don't think you would be able to handle a woman seeing you for how pathetic you truly are, so you debase her first. You're a bully and bad at it, Davos."

As she stepped forward and began her tirade, Davos felt a surge of anger and frustration coursing through him. He clenched his fists tighter and gritted his teeth, his body tensing as she continued to pour out her venom.

Her words stung deep, and he felt his pride and honor being trampled under her feet. He didn't like being called weak, especially by her. He wanted to reach out and shake her, to knock her off her high horse and show her who was really in charge.

"You don't know me," he snapped back. "You don't know anything about me."

Celeste moved close enough to the boy that her cloak lapped at his own in the wind. She squatted down, nearly at eye level with him, though a little lower. "Do you have your wicked way with women, Davos, or was I special? Is the future Lord Blackwood just a petty criminal taking what isn't his?"

As she moved closer, Davos could feel the heat radiating off her body, her cloak mingling with his own in the cool evening air. He clenched his jaw as she squatted down, their heads now at eye level with each other. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as she uttered her words, her voice dripping with scorn.

He wanted to lash out at her, to grab her and shake some sense into her, but he knew better. He couldn't let her see how her words were cutting into him.

"You're not special," he snarled, his voice low.

Celeste smiled, her heart sinking in her chest. "No, I didn't think so," she said, standing slowly and wiping her hands off on the tights beneath her tunic. She turned to walk away.

Davos felt a pang of guilt as he watched her turn away from him. He felt as though he had said too much, lost control of the situation. He took a step forward, almost involuntarily, as if to reach out and stop her.

"Wait." The words came out before he had fully thought them through, and he cursed himself for sounding so desperate.

Celeste stopped walking but did not turn around to face him. She had no desire to-- if he wanted to say anything, now was his chance, or she would leave with a worse taste in her mouth than she'd had before.

Davos took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging storm of emotions within him. He knew he had to say something, anything, to make her stay, to repair the damage that had been done.

He stepped closer to her, until he was standing directly behind her. He could feel her body tensing, as if she was prepared to bolt. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, gently, almost hesitantly.

"I didn't mean it," he said softly. "You are special. I was just... being a fool."

She turned her head ninety degrees, making note of Davos in her peripheral and sighed. "Being the member of a great house is a heavy burden, Davos. We cannot continue to squander what we've been given just as our fathers and our fathers before them. These small, petty things diminish us.. our character. I want to live in peace eventually... you can't go around hurting your lieges. Those women have fathers and brothers who fight for you and are willing to die for you," she finally turned to face him entirely. "The repayment you give them is poor."

Davos felt a pang of shame as she spoke, her words hitting him like a blow to the gut. He knew she was right, and it pained him to admit it. He was the eldest son, the future lord of his house, and he couldn't just go around acting rashly, like a spoiled child.

He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting hers as she turned to face him fully. He could see the disappointment in her eyes, and it stung him more than he cared to admit.

"I know," he said quietly. "I know. I just... I can't help myself sometimes."

"Then you're impetuous like a child," Celeste said with a shrug. "What can be done with you? Mad dogs have their necks broken," she said, tilting her head.

Davos gritted his teeth at her words, his pride smarting at her description of him as an impetuous child. He wanted to argue, to defend himself against her accusation, but he knew that she was right.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to keep his temper in check. He knew that he couldn't let her see how much her words were affecting him.

"I'm not a mad dog," he ground out, his voice low and dangerous.

"Then you must do better for yourself and for the people that serve you," she wrung her hands and stepped away from him again, but only to size him up. For the first time, she was no longer scared of him. "I had no misgivings about your tendencies, I knew you were a villain, but I had thought before that perhaps we were kindred spirits which was folly in and of itself. You are my sworn enemy, but for a second when we last spoke and you told me about what you had heard about me in passing," Celeste looked away wistfully. "I was mistaken, I'm afraid. We shouldn't have met again."

Davos felt a pang of disappointment as she stepped away from him, her eyes studying him as if he was some sort of exhibit in a cage. He wanted to reach out and grab her, to hold her close and make her see that he wasn't the heartless brute she thought he was.

Her words about kindred spirits struck a chord in him, and the memory of their last conversation came rushing back. He remembered how vulnerable they had been with each other for a mere moment. He did not want to let the fear that he would never have that again begin to grow in his chest.

"I'm not your enemy," he blurted out, his voice desperate.

Looking at the linen still in the young man's hand, Celeste frowned and shrugged. "I cannot tell east from west with you, Davos. What do we do here now? We are not enemies, but I cannot call us friends, and I fear the treatment you'd give me as a maid. Perhaps there is nothing for us."

Davos looked down at the linen in his hand, his mind racing as he tried to think of a response to her words. She was right, he knew that. They were not enemies, but they were certainly not friends either.

He clenched his jaw, his pride telling him to just let her go, to forget about this whole encounter. But there was something inside him that wouldn't let her leave, something that wanted to hold on to the chance that she might change her mind about him.

"We could... be friends," he said finally, the words coming out weakly.

Celeste sighed, calming her cloak in the wind. "Can I trust you?"

Davos felt a pang of guilt at her question. He knew he had not earned her trust, not in any sense of the word. But for some reason, the thought of her not trusting him made his stomach twist into knots. He wanted her trust, more than he cared to admit.

"Yes," he said firmly, looking at her with a serious expression. "Yes, you can trust me. I won't hurt you. I swear it."

Celeste took a weary step towards the boy, reaching for his hand to shake, as if to guarantee their truce but the shake became a slow grasping of arms as if it were to become a hug, but she allowed herself to be wrapped up in his arms once more, hugging him tightly as though they had just avoided their greatest battle: losing something so new and fragile so early. She listened to his heart beat.

Davos was surprised when she stepped closer to him, reaching out to take his hand for what he had assumed would be a handshake to seal their truce. But to his even greater surprise, she instead pulled him into an embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around him. He could feel her breath on his neck, her body pressed against his, and he found himself closing his eyes and holding her tightly.

He could feel his heart racing in his chest, the sound deafening in his ears. For a moment, everything else faded away, and all he could focus on was the feeling of her in his arms.

They held each other for a few seconds before Celeste looked up at the young man, her chin in his chest as she looked into his eyes and impatiently and irrationally, she hoped he would kiss her. In a depraved way, she envied the girls he must have taken advantage of, because at least they had had him. She could only imagine what his plump lips would feel like against her own or on parts of her body, and though she tried to push this desire deep down, she couldn't, but was it her fault? He had been the one to ignite her desire.

Davos looked down at Celeste, his eyes meeting hers as she looked up at him with an expression that he couldn't quite read. He could feel her body pressed against his, and he found himself drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

He could see the desire in her eyes, the way she looked at him, and it stirred something deep inside him. He wanted her, he knew that much. And he couldn't deny the way his own body was reacting to her closeness.

Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned down and brought his lips to hers, in a gentle, exploratory kiss.

It was a contrast to how he had treated her the day before. He held her tightly but kissed her lightly, almost the way one would kiss the forehead of a child to sleep. Perhaps she would ruin it all, the innocence of that pink and blue sunset, and perhaps she was impatient, but Celeste quickly placed her hands on the sides of Davos's face and kissed him deeply, fiercely and with a hunger that was not friendly.

Davos felt a pang of surprise as Celeste suddenly grabbed his face and deepened the kiss, her lips pressing against his with a hunger that he had not been prepared for. He pulled away abruptly and looked the girl up and down, incredulously.

“Why denounce me then pull me in like some sorceress,’ he pulled his face from the clutch of her hands, his brow dressed in confusion. She was beautiful but he could see the cunning energy behind her eyes and could not stand to be manipulated for even a minute more. “Why come back if you think me a miscreant, Celeste?”

"Your threats felt more like invitations, you don't think?" They had both come back, hadn’t they?

"An invitation, you say? And what kind of invitation would that be?" He pressed himself closer to her. "Perhaps one to play a game of cat and mouse?"

“If you be the mouse, my lord.”

“Today you bite and I run, you take it?”

They stared at each other for a few seconds before he let go of her gently and took a step back, extending his hand towards her. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards a deeper part of the forest.

She wasn't sure why she did it, but she did. Celeste took the boy's hand and followed after his long strides. He was a villain, a menace, an enemy to her house, but at times he could seem quite gentle. She was coy, acting oblivious to what could happen but followed after him quickly as they retreated further into the woods, past the spot she was familiar with.

They came to a clearing and Davos turned back to her, pulling her closer to him, his body pressing against hers as he tasted her, his tongue exploring her mouth as if he was trying to memorize every inch of her. He could feel the heat radiating between them, a fire that threatened to consume them both.

His hands cupped her face, as he spoke between feverish kisses: "I had every right to you, Celeste. You were on my family's land, and I was merely protecting what is mine, but I did not come here to argue with you today about propriety or dignity," he said, his voice growing softer.

“Then what,’ she began, flushed. “Surely you did not think I would give so easily,’ but this was in contrast to what her hands were doing. She had begun to undo her cloak and release her hair from her braids. “Such as a common whore.”

“A common whore,’ the boy laughed, taking a step back from the young woman as her cloak dropped to her feet. “You’ve acted as one. Running around the woods with no knights to protect you, then you talk about honor. No respectable lady would have been here in the first place, and even a first class whore wouldn't have come back after being shown the danger of it,’ he sighed with a chuckle before beginning to undo his own cloak and casting it on the ground for the two to lay upon.

“You say this in jest,’ Celeste muttered, half-serious and half-offended.

“Of course,’ Davos said, sympathetically, remembering that the viper, herself, was capable of offense. He crossed his arms, still feeling the pressure of her lips on his. “I do believe you want this, Celeste. I will make it gentle for you.”

She bit her lips in trepidation, unsure of what to do as her heart raced.

"Help me," she asked, placing his hands on the strings of the back of her gown, a thin corset that he could undo quicker than her.

Davos felt a pang of excitement as he realized what she was asking him to do. He gently placed his hands on the strings of the back of her gown, his fingers working quickly to undo them as she had requested.

He could feel the heat radiating off her body, and his own heart was pounding in his chest as he pulled the strings loose, the fabric of her gown loosening around her body. He couldn't help but let out a soft, appreciative noise as he saw the bare skin beneath the fabric.

As he removed his hands from her back, Celeste looked down as the dress fell down around her feet atop the cloak. She still had on a thin undergarment, but beneath that, she was naked. The boy knelt down, his face resting on her torso as he undid the less of her tights and pulled them down roughly but without injury, as one would do having not practiced decorum before.

Celeste knelt down in front of him, a quiet wind whistling through the forest. She didn't know where things would go from there, but something in her wanted to show Davos what it felt like to be wanted, and she did want him. She thought that he must have wanted her to, the way his eyes searched her body.

He couldn't help but stare at her, his eyes taking in every inch of her, the curve of her hips, the gentle slope of her neck, the heat radiating between them. He ached to touch her, to run his hands over her skin and feel the softness beneath his fingers.

"I'm not sure now," she said, placing her hands on his arms. Her nipples hardened in the chilling air, and she knew she didn't have much time to spend with him. "I've never done this before."

Davos felt a pang of realization when she spoke, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and it dawned on him that this was uncharted territory for her.

Falling back into his thighs, he put his hands on his waist and allowed his eyes to meet hers once again. He wanted to take care of her. "It's okay," he said softly, his voice low. "I won't hurt you."

Celeste bit her lip and nodded, holding onto him tightly as they kissed again, his hands trailing over her body before they slipped underneath her garment and landed around her round butt. He made small circles with his hands around each perfectly crafted cheek. After a few seconds, one of his hands slipped forward, caressing the outer lips of her precious spot. He felt her shiver underneath him. Pulling away from the kiss, he searched her eyes.

“Have you never been touched?”

Celeste shook her head. Davos moved his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers generously before touching her again, this time from in front, allowing his fingers to slide past her lips and onto her ripening pearl. Her hands were on his shoulders, and he felt her tense up when he touched her. They stared at each other in silence before the boy began to make generous circles around her sensitive spot to which she whimpered.

“Do you like that?”

The girl nodded shyly. Davos used his other hand to touch her chest before moving his hand to her neck, feeling the warmth grow as her entire body blushed. He returned to a position erect on his knees. Slowly, he pulled her undergarment over her head, revealing her smooth skin and soft body. Only her boots remained, but they would stay, it would take too much time to remove them.

“You’re beautiful,’ he murmured, his eyes taking in every inch of her body. He began to kiss her neck, his hands roaming over her curves before he moved to lay her down on the cloak. He kissed her ear and whispered abruptly: “You’re being very brave.”

Celeste rolled her eyes and smiled, before a sudden feeling of vulnerability washed over her. She hadn't expected to give in so easily, but she could not clear her thoughts. He was right. Why was she there if it wasn't because she wanted to feel his hands once more upon her body and his gentle weight atop hers.

Davos could sense her hesitation, but he was determined to make her feel comfortable. He leaned down to kiss her again, his hand moving to cup her breast as he did so. "Relax," he whispered against her lips. "I won't hurt you."

He trailed kisses down her neck and chest, taking his time to explore every inch of her body. He moved his hand down between her legs, teasing her gently with his fingers.

Celeste felt Davos's hands between her legs, a rush of electricity going up her back. The feeling was new to her, and the sudden wave of pleasure made her frown in embarrassment, her entire body growing red.

"Yes," she whispered, almost shrinking into herself as his fingers circled her clit before they made entrance to her moistening hole. Celeste clenched tightly, still unsure of the new sensation and suddenly disappointed that she had waited so long to be pleasured. She broke eye contact with the boy, her eyes rolling backwards.

Davos could sense her embarrassment, but he didn't want her to feel ashamed. He continued to tease her with his fingers, moving them in and out of her slowly as he watched her reaction. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers.

He continued to pleasure her until she was gasping for breath, her body writhing beneath him. He leaned down to kiss her again, his hand still moving between her legs. "Do you want more?" he asked softly, his eyes searching hers.

Celeste kissed the boy back, bringing his bottom lip into her mouth and sucking gently as she allowed her arms to move around him, pulling him closer. She had never been this close with anyone before in her life, and a sense of trust washed over her. She stopped for a second, a burning in her chest and wondered how many other women must he have bedded, deflowered? She couldn't reconcile her fear with her lust and dramatically exhaled, pulling away from the kiss, her head flopping on the ground as she searched his lustful eyes. He asked her a question.

"What do you mean?"

She felt the girl pull away from their kiss, and he dropped his head into the nape of her neck, slightly annoyed but patient. She seemed to be done with his fingers inside her, but when he moved them back to her throbbing clit, he quickly felt her body twitch and knew she was still in the mood for... something.

She moaned out a question and he looked her over, her breasts, then her soft belly and the uncut down above her womanly parts. Truly a woman, in all senses of the word.

He moved his hand from her wet parts and picked her hand up to place atop of his growing bulge, lifting his head to make eye contact with her.

"Do you want to feel it, my lady?"

Celeste's hands pandered with trepidation over the boy's bulge, unsure of what the correct answer was. She bit her lower lip and nodded, retracting her hand slowly as she saw him begin to remove his belt.

Davos watched Celeste's reaction with a small smile as she hesitantly touched his bulge. He leaned in closer to her and whispered in her ear, "Don't be shy."

He continued to remove his belt and pants, revealing his hard member. He took off his tunic and searched the girl's eyes again before taking Celeste's hand and placing it back on his member, guiding her movements as he moaned softly. Davos then moved his hand to Celeste's waist, pulling her close to him as he kissed her again, deeply and passionately.

As the kiss deepened, Davos began to move his hips, grinding against Celeste's hand as he pleasured himself. He broke the kiss and looked at Celeste with lust-filled eyes.

"You really haven't done this before, huh?"

Celeste's heart was racing as the two kissed, she could feel the blood pulsing through his cock, and she could only imagine what it would feel like inside of her. He was bigger than she had expected, but after all, what had she expected? She began to feel the boy pushing himself in and out of the grip of her small hand, pleasant moans escaping his lips.

When he broke their kiss, she pulled away in surprise. "No, am I doing something wrong?"

Davos chuckled and shook his head, "No, no. You're fine." He leaned in to kiss her again, his hands roaming over her body as he did.

As they kissed, Davos moved his hand back down to the girl's wetness, feeling that she was even more soaked than before. He couldn't take it. He broke the kiss again, looking at her with desire in his eyes as he whispered, "I want you. Do you want me too?"

He waited for her response, his fingers tracing circles on her inner thigh.

"Yes, yes," Celeste nodded, still feeling his stiffened member in her hand.

Davos leaned in to kiss her again, his hand moving back to her wetness. He rubbed her clit with his thumb, eliciting a moan from her lips. He laid back onto the cloak, the girl hovering above him. He grasped at her breasts once more, softly but surely.

"I want you to ride me. It won’t be difficult,’ he led the girl up and onto his hips, rubbing his hand down her side. “I’ll help you, okay?”

His cock was at attention as he watched Celeste straddle him. He guided himself inside of her, groaning as she took him in. He could tell by the look in her eyes that he would have to take her slowly. She placed her hands on his chest and did her best to find a rhythm, but she was a novice, he knew this. Though it was difficult to concentrate with how wet and tight she was, Davos managed to guide the girl's hips up and down his shaft, her soft weight massaging his balls each time she came down on him again. He caught a few glimpses of her mouth, slightly agape each time she felt him reach inside of her, but he could not watch her for long if he wanted to last more than a few minutes. Moving his hands from her hips to her chest, he allowed Celeste to take control again and though her bounces were shallow, he smirked at how quickly she was learning, her beautiful breasts bouncing lightly.

When he began to toy with her nipples, moans began to escape from her lips. Davos squeezed them tightly before massaging them with his fingers, but it wasn’t long before he began to feel himself tense up.

“Go slower,’ he told the girl, and she listened. Instead she ground into him deeper and pulled up slower, the only noise around them being the wet sticky snap from her wetness peeling away from his hard cock. Davos pulled her close to him for a kiss, his arms wrapped completely around her as he began to thrust vigorously, the girl moaning them whimpering pathetically into his mouth. Their movements became more frantic, both of them lost in their desire for each other. Davos let out a low growl as he felt his orgasm building.

With a thrust and groan that had been built up, he felt himself release inside of her, his liquids slowly seeping from her and onto his thigh. Davos sighed, shaking, holding the young woman tightly in his arms. He moved his hands to her hair, massaging her scalp as his heartbeat slowed. From the corner of his eye, he saw her orange cape on the ground and shook his head. He couldn’t believe that only three days ago, he hadn’t even known what her voice sounded like. Now: he had been her first. He felt a sense of pride, but he knew now that things would be different. He would be partial to someone he should have never spoken to.

Davos kissed the girl’s forehead before repositioning himself so that he was spooning her naked body as she lay face down, her eyes closed.

“Are you okay?”

Celeste nodded silently, allowing herself to be caressed by the boy. The birds flew above them. The sun was on the horizon and they hadn't much time.

"When will I see you again?"

He looked down at her as she spoke, his fingers lost in her hair. He knew they didn't have much time left, and he wanted nothing more than to stay there with her removed from all the difficult questions they both had to ask themselves.

"Soon," he said softly. "I'll make sure of it."

Celeste sighed and turned over. She leaned forward quickly, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Of course," she said, rolling her eyes at the vague response. Of course she had been bed, and now she felt as though she would not see the young man again. She grabbed her under garment and tights, standing up to put them on, her back away from the boy.

Davos watched as she stood up and began to dress, her back facing him. He could see the tension in her movements, the way her shoulders were stiff as she pulled on her undergarment and tights.

He felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he had caused her frustration with his vague response. He could see the disappointment on her face, and he knew he had failed to reassure her.

He stood up as well, grabbing his own clothes and beginning to dress.

Celeste put on her gown, not worrying to tie it, as she didn't want to ask for help. She fastened her cloak tightly so that the give in her waist wouldn't be apparent if she were to encounter someone she knew. Searching the ground to ensure none of her belongings remained, she hesitated for a second to see if there was anything left to be said between the two.

Davos finished dressing as well, his eyes on her the whole time. He could see the uncertainty in her movements, and he knew she was hesitating, unsure of what to say or do next.

He took a step towards her, his gaze on hers. He wasn't ready to say goodbye, not yet.

"Celeste," he said softly, his voice hesitant. "Can I ask you something?"

"My lord?" she said, the darkness beginning to settle on their faces, their emotions growing harder to read.

Davos took another step towards her, his eyes on hers in the gathering darkness. He took a deep breath, unsure of how she would react to his question.

"Will you meet me again? Somewhere secret? Somewhere we won't be seen."

Celeste looked around her in shock, she wasn't sure if he could see that emotion, however. "I don't know of a place other than this. It wouldn't be safe...' she pandered. "I would fancy seeing you somewhere other than the shade of the forest. I'm not sure how to make this wish apart of our world though." She frowned.

Davos could hear the hesitation in her voice, and he knew that finding a secret place to meet would not be easy. He thought for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a solution.

"I have an idea," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. "There's a secluded spot not far from here. It's hidden away, and no one ever goes there. We could meet there."

"Ah,' Celeste said aloud. "On Blackwood land, I'm sure of it." She shook her head. "Then it's not safe for me."

Davos felt a pang of frustration as she rejected his idea. He knew it wasn't safe for her to be on Blackwood land, but he couldn't help the desperation in his voice.

"It's safe," he said firmly. "I can ensure your safety. No one will see you, no one will know. Just trust me."

The sun was set, a few dying embers in the sky, and Celeste knew she would have to guide herself back by the moon. She was lucky, for once, that they hardly looked for her.

"Where shall I meet you? And when?"

Davos felt a sense of relief wash over him as she agreed to meet him again. He smiled, feeling a wave of excitement at the prospect of seeing her again.

"Tomorrow," he said, his voice low. "At midnight. Meet me at the riverbank, not far from here. Do you know where I mean?"

"I know," she responded. "I will meet you,' Celeste promised, stepping towards Davos in the dark. She could not make out his expression but she saw the shape of his face. On the tips of her toes, she grasped his face once more and gave him a parting kiss. "Bed no other maidens in the meantime, my friend,' she joked before slipping away.

He returned her kiss eagerly, feeling her soft lips against his own before she pulled away. He chuckled at her joke, a hint of a grin on his face.

"There are no maidens other than thee," he shouted into her retreating direction. "I'll be waiting for you, Celeste. Midnight, by the river."

tag list: @shifter-101

#davos blackwood #hotd #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood #game of thrones #got #tasnc

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alwayssassydreamer · 15 days ago

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I Think I Love You

Day 29 of Kikitober

A/N: needed a fluffy story for kid and well this is the outcome, not proofread

Plot: Kid is trying to ask you on a date.

Warnings: a lazy fluffy story, maybe mention of reader getting hurt during a fight,

Characters: Kid x F!Reader, Killer (minor role)

been listening to this while writing

You were laying on the ground, a bleeding cut on your face barely missing your eye, your opponent standing over you his sword pointed at you.

You were sure you'd die here. Until your enemies sword got ripped out of his hand and then metallic pieces piercing through him. You heard a low voice. "Why the fuck is it so hard for you to listen to me. Killer take her to the ship" the voice ordered. You felt yourself being lifted up then you passed out.

Well you thought it was a good idea to take on the enemy by yourself which proved to be a horrible mistake. You were holding up pretty good but were caught by surprise when out of nowhere you heard Kid shout your name the little distraction was enough for that bastard to attack you.

"You really thought you can just jump into any fight? You had no backup!” he yelled at you after House patched you up. A scar now covering your face.

"I was doing just fine Kid, but you had to be the knight in shining armor coming to save the poor damsel" you shouted back.

"Maybe I am. You were about to get your head taken off! You should’ve stayed back!” he scoffed angrily stepping closer his hand squeezing your cheeks.

You pushed it away. "If you hadn't distracted me this would not have happened" you said pointing to your scar.

"So you blame me now?" He growled fire in his eyes.

You couldn't blame Kid, it was your own fault. He was just calling your name and you got distracted by it - distracted by someone calling your name, sounds actually a little pathetic.

You huffed and made your leave.

"Really? You're running away now" he yelled after you. You just put up your middle finger and made your way into the kitchen hoping to find Killer there.

"What's wrong" he asked as you hopped onto the counter sighing.

"He's still mad." You said frustrated.

"Don't mind it. That's his way of showing he cares" Killer hummed calmly.

"Great, I'd prefer it if he would stop yelling at me"

"Stop pouting little one. How would you react if it was him who got hurt" Killer asked and you could've sworn there was a mocking undertone in his voice.

You avoided to look at him feeling yourself blushing. You couldn't deny it but you felt a little attracted to the menace you call your captain.

"So? I'm waiting for an answer" Killer teased as he made you look at him.

"Don't recall your cheeks being this red" he continued mocking you.

"Stop that asshole," you said playfully shoving at his chest. "God, i would be really worried, you happy now" you sighed face burying in your hands.

Killer chuckled satisfied.

After observing the two of you for weeks, Killer had seen the tension between you and soon realized that this was more than just a meaningless bickering.

You cared for each other more than you two would like to admit. But you were both terrible at showing your feelings.

When he found Kid pacing the deck with a frown on his face he approached him.

"What keeps you awake Kid" he asked crossing his arms.

Kid stopped his movements and looked at Killer. "Nothing"

"I know you're lying. Tell me what's wrong" the blonde kept pushing.

"Just thinking"

"About y/n" killer teased, Kid shooting at glance at him.

"Fuck Kid finally make a move"

"It's not that easy" Kid blurted out catching Killer by surprise.

"Yes it is. Ask her to spend time with you and try not to yell at her"

After Killer spent almost the rest of the night talking to Kid he finally agreed on asking you out the next day.

He was about to make his move on you when a lower pirate crew ambushed you. They were easily defeated but Kid was frustrated afterwards. No one dared to get in his way. While the crew celebrated Kid tried to find solace outside on the deck, in the cold and dimly lit night.

Looking through the port hole you caught a glimpse of Kid sitting in the darkness all by himself.

"You know he might enjoy some company" Killer said as he carefully nudged your shoulder.

"You mean he needs someone he could yell at" you hissed though you felt kinda sad seeing him out there all alone.

"He won't, I'm sure he would enjoy your company. Trust me" he assured you.

"Fine but if he yells at me I'm going to punch you" you said with a small laugh.

"Sounds fair. Here take this with you" he chuckled handing you a bottle of rum.

You carefully approached your captain, sitting down right next to him.

He shot you a glance but didn't say a word. There was an uncomfortable silence between you two as you handed him the bottle.

Kid tried to act tough, but his annoyance from the ambush seeped through. You felt the weight of the moment, unsure of how to break the ice.

The stars above you shining brightly as a cold breeze hit you. You shivered a little as you took the bottle from Kids hand taking a sip before handing it back to him.

The moment your hands touched you felt a warm feeling rush through you. Looking up at him curiously studying his face.

"Stop staring at me" he finally broke the silence but you kept staring.

"I said stop it, what are you even trying to find" he asked a mix of annoyance and affection in his voice.

"Trying to find out why you're so mad and frustrated. This was nothing but a minor pirate crew ambushing us didn't even take a lot of effort yet you're here pouting" you teased still studying his face.

"Am not pouting" he snapped taking a big sip from the bottle.

"Of course not" you mocked. "The great eustass kid never pouts" you added laughing.

He turned to you a mischievous grin on his face as he gently and carefully shoved you making you laugh.

"Seriously what's bothering you?" You asked soft eyes looking at him.

He didn't say a word just looked at you before carefully tracing his thumb over the scar on your face as you leaned into the touch.

"We're matching now" you chuckled.

"We look kinda bad ass together now" he teased.

"Is that what's bothering you? the scar?" You asked shyly as he removed his finger.

"Yes i mean no, wait what? He stuttered as you looked confused.

He sighed. "It bothers me that i wasn't there to prevent this from happening." He said avoiding your gaze taking another sip.

"Not your fault, I'm sorry i didnt follow your orders" you replied, having a hard time admitting this.

"What was that? Did you just apologize for being an idiot" he taunted you smiling devilish.

"Shut up asshole" you muttered taking the bottle from him.

"I've planned something." He started as you looked curiously at him "you know i had a plan before the ambush but it got ruined because of those bastards, got me a little mad and frustrated" he continued as you removed the bottle from your lips.

"Care to share your plan or is it a secret"

"I wanted to ask you on a date" he stammered his confidence fading.

It took you a moment to process the words that just left his lips which he mistook as a form of hesitation maybe even as a rebuff.

He muttered something to himself before angrily getting up leaning against the railing staring into the open sea.

"You should get back inside" he ordered his voice low and full of anger and shame as he emptied the bottle.

Sighing you got up leaning against the railing right next to him carefully placing your hand on his startling him.

"Why? I thought we're having a date" you said smiling shyly at him while playing with his fingers.

You could see a small blush on his face.

"Not quite what i had in mind" he chuckled.

"It's perfect given how long I've been waiting for you to make a move" you teased both of you now blushing.

He pulled you closer his metal arm carefully wrapped around you your back against his chest holding you tightly. You placed your hands over his as he leaned his chin on your shoulder nuzzling into your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin.

The warmth coming from his body felt soothing making your heart beat faster. His embrace making you feel like home. You could've stayed like this forever.

"Kid?"

"Hmm" he hummed as you wiggeled out of his grip.

"I was actually waiting for you to do this first but i guess you're too stubborn and prideful soooo" you teased taking a deep breath, biting your lower lip.

"What do you-" you cut him off by placing a finger on his lips.

Eyes wide, heart beating faster you felt the nervousness build up inside you. Ok now or never.

"I think I love you" you blurted out feeling like throwing up afterwards.

He smiled smugly at you as he removed your finger giving it a small kiss.

"You think you love me?" He taunted you, causing you to playfully punch his chest.

"Stop being an asshole this was really hard" you complained though your lips twitched into a small smile.

"I think I love you too" he replied.

"You know what actually I know that i love my little troublemaker" he added his hand caressing your cheek.

He smirked down at you leaning in kissing you surprisingly soft though not less passionate.

"I love you captain" you mumbled into the kiss as you enjoyed the rest of the night in each others arms.

#one piece #eustass kid #eustass captain kid #kikitober2024 #massacre soldier killer #killer one piece #kid pirates #kid x reader #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid x reader #eustass kidd #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass kid #eustass kid x you

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nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma · 6 months ago

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HOTD stans: "Ugh those TB fans whining over every change and insisting HOTD is biased against them. Don't they think that maybe the writers made changes just so the story would be more interesting, not because Otto Hightower placed a gun to their head? Don't they see how much more interesting and complex the characters are now than in their fictional history book?"

also HOTD stans: "The Greens are just so much more interesting though. Sorry Rhaenyra, on principle I do support female succession. But you, Jakey boy and the rest of the pot plants just can't compete with Alicent and her poor tortured fucked up kids. They are THE dysfunctional family they are just so much more interesting-"

Wait... you mean ignoring half the cast didn't make them more interesting? Could it possibly be that bias isn't just a case of which side is portrayed as sympathetic, but which side is given attention?

Nah, of course not. I mean, a script direction stating that Jacaerys had already gone through an offscreen identity crisis over his parentage years ago and had come to terms with it? I thought that was so much more interesting than actually depicting it. I'm glad they got rid of Jace being bullied and focused on Aemond instead - it really made Jace a much more interesting character. Exploring the internalised shame of being a bastard, or what it's like to be constantly targeted and bullied by a kingsguard knight whose obsessed with destroying your mother, just isn't as interesting as Aemond being sad he doesn't have a dragon, or Aegon's daddy issues.

Giving Baela and Rhaena no screentime or dialogue? Genius. I'm so much more intrigued now. When they established Rhaena's yearning for a dragon I was worried we were going to see more of her, but to my upmost relief we spent her mother's funeral following Aemond instead. And the writers appropriately only used Rhaena to keep Aemond sympathetic, by having her be the one to initiate the fight instead of him hitting a toddler - once she was done serving Aemond's character we really didn't need anything further from her.

That one-off line about Daemon ignoring Rhaena was sufficient really, no need to explore that relationship any further. Just as there was no need to explore Baela's relationship with Jace, or the girls relationship with their stepmother. Let's go back to how Aegon is so sad that he has to rape women, or Helaena's bug collection. Let's throw sympathy on Vaemond while the female heirs to Driftmark stand silently in the background. Let's fart around in a Green-centric episode with a 100% stake-free race to find Aegon first. Let's throw in a scene of Larys masturbating over the Queen's feet, because the more powerless she is the more we can see Olivia Cooke's beautiful brown eyes weeping. The Blacks certainly don't need their own episode to breathe.

Sure, I did feel bad for book Rhaenyra when she was ordered away to effective exile on Dragonstone by her own father after the fight at Driftmark. And when her father almost called her home again to be his Hand, but then prioritised placating his wife and chose Otto instead. That sure SOUNDS like a compelling father-daughter conflict on paper. Perhaps we COULD have seen the tragic tale of a daughter whose father keeps failing to fight for her and unwittingly sabotages her, as his peacekeeping 'neutrality' effectively chooses his wife over her time and time again.

But I don't know, there was just something about Rhaenyra voluntarily bouncing because 'the wise sailor steers to avoid the storm' that felt much more intriguing than being forced away by her own father. Rhaenyra staying away for years was much more intriguing than her father passing her over as Hand. It really made the moment where Viserys drags his corpse out of bed to defend her stand out, you know? And it let us keep the focus on how Alicent is sad that her husband doesn't appreciate her, because the more victimised interesting Alicent is, the more interesting everyone is!

Daemon bashing his wife's head in with a rock also really made him more grey as a character.

As did Rhaenys slaughtering the smallfolk and championing the Geneva Convention the very next episode. That writing decision definitely had nothing to do with shock value. I mean, when asked why she didn't just end the war there and then we got solid Watsonian explanations such as 'it wasn't my war to start' or 'she wouldn't do that to another mother' (women, right?). That's how you know that creatively it made sense, because they wanted it to happen. Where was she keeping that change of armour?

Who needs Laena matchmaking to secure Driftmark and the Iron Throne for her daughters when she can spend her time wishing for self-immolation? Who needs Laena trying to fly one last time, desperate for that last taste of freedom before she dies, when she can instead kill herself via self-immolation?

Laenor faking his death via the murder of an innocent bystander and leaving the charred remains of the body to traumatise his parents and children (whose biological father has just died in a fire)? That needs no further exploration, I'm sure that didn't psychologically scar Jace and Luke any more than Laena's self-immolation affected her daughters. All that matters is we didn't bury our gays, isn't that great? This way Laenor didn't get assassinated, just his character!

I mean, we could have had Laenor's death be a tragic mystery, with unconfirmed rumours that Daemon had a hand in it. We could have placed the audience in Rhaenyra's point of view, we could have watched her grapple with the doubt, struggle over whether it's a possibility she can live with. We could have had the moment she gets passed over as Hand be the moment she decides to marry Daemon, like in the book. That could have said something interesting about her character and their relationship. But on second thoughts, "we'll fake Laenor's death and then we can be the ultimate power couple and RULE THE WORLD" was much more sophisticated.

Oh, and de-aging Aegon the Younger? Just look at the emotional range on that baby.

The casting for Addam and Alyn too... Honestly, not just their casting, I think overall the decision to cast characters aged 13-15 with grown adults is really going to underscore the tragedy of their stolen childhoods. It worked for Game of Thrones!

Nettles? Don't we have enough black women in the background?

#hotd critical #team black #pro team black #house of the dragon #pro rhaenyra targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaenys the queen who never was #laena velaryon #valyrianscrolls #laenor velaryon

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lemonhemlock · 5 months ago

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what are your thoughts on the madonna-whore complex allegations constantly lobbed at criston from rhaenicent and rhaenyra stans alike. because i dont see it at all. also a lot of them don't even seem to be using the madonna-whore complex correctly. it's supposed to be in regard to men in relationships with woman that lose sexual arousal for these women when they see them in more domestic, motherly, etc. light. the fandom is so collectively off base about this lmao.

yeah, i feel like criston's stuff is a bit more complicated, even just based on the information given in S1. in a way, you can say he grows to be attracted to the mother figure and repulsed by the whore figure, but he wasn't always like that. he himself said he had dalliances with girls before joining the kingsguard and he is very much attracted to the outgoing, spunky maiden rhaenyra, but there is also this tension with the quiet, introverted young alicent in his confession scene!

i'm not sure exactly how to word this, but criston strikes me as the type of man who is malleable, who doesn't have much in the way of plans or objectives. he lived a pretty aimless life before he is introduced on screen and joined the kingsguard as it was a prestigious institution which offered him structure and something to strive for. so, in a way, he replaced his haphazard youth with knightly ideals and gallantry. but, even this purposelessness - i wouldn't hold it above his head as a fault either. westerosi society just doesn't have the space for someone like him - the son of minor nobility, who probably doesn't have much in the way of inheritance. he can't exactly go out and "get a job" (the sources of wealth creation aren't very diversified) without it being considered a huge stepdown and humiliation and bringing shame on his family (the social stratification really might seem very alien to someone living in 2024). so, of course that in a society that values martial prowess (something he happens to be good at), he would be attracted to activities in the militaristic sphere.

and i don't mean to say that he is just amoral and doesn't have any principles either, i'm sure he would LIKE to be this perfect knight that embodies self-sacrifice and courage and selflessness, but, like many other westerosi institutions, the kingsguard is an oppressive one. it's NOT normal to impose abstinence on someone, it's NOT normal to not allow them to retire and make them live this frugal, unattached life, just trailing after royalty all day, standing for hours on end in rooms and hallways. so, of course, criston finds it difficult (i'm guessing a lot of the kingsguard members had similar feelings) and of course he "strays" (that's one way of putting it, bc we all remember the discussions on the non-consensual nature of that scene).

criston's existential crisis is very real and raw and a by-product of the westerosi feudal system - what IS a man like him supposed to do with his life? he thought he had found purpose in the kingsguard, but he found himself in a situation where he broke his vows, so he tries to reason that maybe his new purpose can be rhaenyra - his love for her, running away with her, marrying her, taking care of her etc. so it very much doesn't matter for him that she herself gave away her chastity before marriage (and could be thus labelled a "whore" by their society's standards). but when rhaenyra refuses him - it's like that quote from dostoevsky - “your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.”

so, where i'm going with this is that criston has personal beef with rhaenyra. she behaved towards him in a careless way and discarded him without a second thought, whereas for him their affair was a huge, all-consuming thing. now, had rhaenyra went on and lived an exemplary life as a married woman, with no bastard children, he still probably would have hated her for what she did, but, i'm not sure, just based off S1 information, that he would still call her names

to go back to the madonna-whore axis, like you said, men who have that complex tend to view the "whore" as someone sexually appealing - whereas i think criston's disillusionment with rhaenyra has surpassed any attraction he had for her in the past. meanwhile, despite being a "mother" figure, alicent's life of quiet servitude has made her very attractive in his eyes. but! who is to say that rhaenyra couldn't have been more diplomatic and empathetic with him in handling their affair? had she put a bit more effort in, manipulated him into being her secret lover instead of harwin strong? sure, he could have refused, but had she played the woe-is-me card, the i-have-to-sacrifice-my-happiness-for-the-good-of-the-realm and convinced him that she wasn't going along with his oranges plan because she, too, had higher ideals she had to serve, i don't think he would have seen her in this unfavourable light (what if rhaenyra were a different person entirely LOL)

so, basically, what i mean to say is that, ultimately, rhaenyra treated criston in a nasty way and now he hates her, whereas alicent treated him with kindness and now he worships the ground she walks on. but what if the roles were reversed? what if alicent had been unpleasant to him and rhaenyra the compassionate one? would criston still be crowning king aegon? is this truly about a madonna-whore complex or about personal relationships, how you behave towards people and how those past grievances interact when it comes to securing someone's loyalty? everyone is more inclined to be indulgent towards their friends and to keep their side, even if they might not always be in the right. it's easier to go to bat for someone you like than for someone you don't! people can always rationalise their principles away in such situations and develop double-standards

#this is very convoluted idk how much of it makes sense #criston cole #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anyway who knows how they will develop criston's characterisation this season #watch this space #ask #anon

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scaryscarecrows · 13 days ago

Text

Needles and Stitches

Mark goes from tired to pissed in about five seconds. That’s how long it takes him to turn on the light to his office and clock the Arkham Knight sitting awkwardly in the Sucker Chair. He was supposed to be in Arkham City until next Wednesday.

“The fuck did you do.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got an eight-inch laceration right between my damn shoulder blades and I can’t reach it. I already tried.”

“And you made it worse, I’m sure.” Good morning, sunshine, it’s gonna be one of those days! It must be bad, though, or already infected, or he wouldn’t be here. “Come on, lemme see what you did.”

“Helmet stays on,” the Knight says roughly. “That’s non-negotiable.”

Mark is willing to argue. He is the doctor, and this is his goddamn domain and that’s just the way it is. He’s not willing to argue right now, not with this guy. The Knight has yet to really hurt them, but he most certainly can, and there was one poor bastard that tried to pull the helmet off, last year. Was.

But he’s also not giving him the complete win. It’s the principle of the thing. So he just grunts, jerks his head towards surgery, and locks the door behind them.

His armor is pristine, so no clues there. Mark also has no fucking idea where to even begin getting that off, so he just makes an irritated gesture at the whole mess.

“Well?”

The boss fiddles with one of his many pocket knives for maybe thirty seconds more before reaching up and unlatching the chest plate. The armor under that is kevlar, like theirs, and it’s almost the same, barring the heavy plating across his shoulders. That comes off the same as the chest plate did, with hidden latches, and the rest of the suit unzips at the throat.

Whatever Mark was expecting, it wasn’t this. He’s seen scars like this very rarely, though he’s seen the fresh wounds a lot more, when he and Trent were out in Russia. Burns of all kinds, ranging from small cigarettes to deep ones from a hot poker. A latticework of knife scars on…honestly, everything. What looks like a crude surgical scar at the gut (self-surgery, maybe? Mark’s got a similar one himself), and…honestly, he can’t pin the odd, almost knot-like thing at the hollow of his throat. There’s a horrific slash going from rib to hip that would have been a near-disembowelment, and several of the ribs are just crooked enough that it’s clear they were broken and healed for shit. A short, jagged scar, also older, says that he took a knife through the shoulder at some point. Anything else is hidden under a white bandage wound awkwardly under one arm, over the other, and around his ribs.

These scars are old. The body that bears them is not. Twenties, maybe, if he had to guess. Jesus Christ, no wonder he’s…quite frankly, this fucked up.

“Bandage off, turn around,” he says shortly. “Lemme see what you’re bitchin’ about.”

The Knight’s back is exactly zero percent better. Long, deliberate knife wounds trace his shoulders, barely visible under what looks like, hand-to-God, whip marks. A whip with glass embedded in it, he thinks, judging by the odd pockmarks. But more importantly, right now, there is indeed an eight-inch gash sitting pretty between his shoulder blades, right in an absolutely dickish spot to reach for self-stitches. And yeah, there’s the beginnings of an infection, though he’s clearly tried to at least keep that at bay.

“You gotta give me something to work with.”

“Somebody got lucky with a machete.”

“And how did that happen?”

“I was distracted by the bastard with the cattle prod.”

That explains fuck-all.

“Hm. I’m guessing you’re up to date on your tetanus shots.”

“Yes.”

“It’s something.” The infection hasn’t really had a chance to set in; the gash has clearly been cleaned and had some ointment or something dabbed on it, at least. “Could be worse,” he continues, politely ignoring what looks like the faint rubbing scars of a metal collar. “You didn’t let it get out of control, at least. It’s just a little red, no puss yet or anything super nasty. No trips into the sewer or anything I need to know about, right?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Good. All right, I’m gonna clean it up to my satisfaction, stitch it back together, and then you’re going to leave off your stupid ninja-shit for at least ten days. No gargoyles, no flips, no zilch or on God, I will open you back up and stuff that thing full of those little prickly things that grow out in the jungle, you hear me?”

“You’re welcome to try.” The Knight’s voice doesn’t have the usual humor to it, but he’s not pissed off, either. He’s just–nervous, is the best word Mark’s got for him. He’s nervous.

“I don’t try. I do. This’ll be easier if you just lie down and keep still. You got any allergies I should know about?”

“Artificial cherry,” comes the quiet mumble. Jesus Christ, he’s got a real comedian on his hands here.

“Then I’ll keep the grape lollipops aside just for you,” Mark snarks. “Now let’s get this thing closed up before some idiot falls off a car and breaks their arm. Again.”

THE END

#fic #mark jones #jason todd #arkham knight #arkahmverse #scaryverse #why do they kick me?#THREE UPDATES TODAY over on ao3 pop over there

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goodqueenaly · 8 months ago

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Let’s give Team Black the best case scenario where they win the war uncontested and there are no betrayals by any dragonseeds- where do you think Nettles would fit in the regime after the war? Ulf & Hugh get to be knights and have holdings while Addam is taken under Corlys’s wing, but Nettles is now a (presumably) non Valyrian lowborn dragonriding female- she’s kind of a conundrum for the powers that be.

Jace’s call to action is gendered- “…vowing that any man who could master a dragon would be granted lands and riches and dubbed a knight. His sons would be ennobled, his daughters wed to lords, and he himself would have the honor of fighting beside the Prince of Dragonstone against the pretender Aegon Il Targaryen and his treasonous supporters.”

Do you think the plan could have been marriage as opposed to knighthood for Nettles? But then that introduces the sticky situation of essentially giving dragons to other noble houses. I thought maybe Alyn (assuming Addam survived in this scenario), but I’m not sure.

(Obvious preface that this is not about That Other Show and anyone using this to talk about That Other Show is getting blocked.)

You ask an interesting question, because Nettles very clearly stood apart from the other non-Targaryen dragonriders in ways that I think would have left her without an obvious place even in a world where the black faction was victorious. Addam of Hull (and, by extension, his dragonless brother Alyn) fit most comfortably in the black faction’s political calculus: as the acknowledged bastardborn “grandsons” (really sons) of the Lord of the Tides, helpfully introduced just after that same Lord Velaryon had lost his designated male heir, Marilda’s sons could follow the same path as so many aristocratic Westerosi bastards before them (including knighthoods, lordships, and aristocratic marriages); moreover, as very evidently Valyrian descendants (with one riding a Velaryon dragon, no less), these boys could be logically accepted as Valyrian-blooded dragonriders. While neither Hugh Hammer nor Ulf the White displayed so open a connection to any such Valyrian heritage, their lifetime residence on Dragonstone and seemingly “natural” bond with their respective dragons (not to mention Ulf’s silvery hair) allowed for a satisfactory narrative which cast them as dragonseeds, ancillary dragonriding scions of House Targaryen akin, if not specifically equivalent, to other royal and aristocratic bastards. While it doesn’t appear Rhaenyra had specific careers, so to speak, in mind for either Hugh or Ulf - both were knighted and given small holdings seemingly only after the Rosby and Stokeworth inheritance dispute - their identification as male dragonseeds could, to some extent, smooth their transition into a level of aristocratic life for them within the black faction.

However, where could Nettles fit in this socio-political universe? Nettles’ scheme to ride Sheepstealer did not simply demonstrate her cleverness (though it certainly did) - it also provided Nettles with a unique, indeed perhaps revolutionary, path to personal power. Rejecting Jacaerys’ proud declaration that “only Targaryens ride dragons” (emphasis in the original), Nettles, by her shrewd tactics, argued that one did not necessarily have to be a Valyrian descendant to be a dragonrider. The singular Targaryen mastery of dragons, which constituted the source of their dominance during the Conquest, the cornerstone of their diplomacy afterward, and the foundation of their religious Exceptionalism, now potentially lost its potency; if anyone could ride a dragon, why should the Targaryens rest at the top of the feudal hierarchy? The black faction, in any post-victory scenario, would need to grapple with the presence of a woman whose very existence as the sort of dragonrider she was opposed the Targaryen royal narrative, even if she herself was no rebel against the black faction or the Targaryen political system.

Furthermore, Nettles would still be subject to a variety of prejudices even in a post-victory world for the black faction. Sexist Gyldayn’s disgusting and typically derogatory commentary aside, Nettles certainly came from what Westerosi (and specifically blue-blooded Westerosi) would consider a rather unsavory background: “a bastard of uncertain birth”, potentially “the daughter of a dockside whore”, “foul-mouthed” and apparently considered ugly by Westerosi standards (at least in the opinion of the openly pro-green Septon Eustace, who in all likelihood never actually saw her). Hugh and Ulf might have been just as lowborn, to be sure - Hugh is identified as a “blacksmith’s bastard”, while Ulf is described as a man-at-arms, in other words a low-ranking soldier - but since Westerosi patriarchy is gonna patriarchy, these men could pursue careers and have levels of social standing that Nettles, simply by virtue of her gender, never could; consequently, these men could also be moved up the social ladder, to at least a limited extent, with some ease where Nettles, by contrast, could not. Even if Nettles never actually worked as a sex worker (again, Gyldayn can fuck off with any such notion), the surface-level associations would always be there, certainly in the eyes of those already prone to look down on Nettles - she was the (presumed) daughter of a whore, living alone on the streets without any obvious trade or skills, so of course she was no more than a whore herself, or at least so onlookers would assume. In a world where even aristocratic women born to power and privilege have a harder time than their male counterparts in asserting their rights and claims to authority, how could the orphaned, lowborn girl Nettles be left to enjoy the sort of independent power she had as not just a dragonrider, but as what we might call a self-made dragonrider?

Too, because Nettles was a person of color, she was that much more easily othered by Westerosi society. Rhaenyra might have been the most blatant in using Nettles’ appearance (which is to say, her race) to undermine her, Nettles’, accomplishments - calling her a “a low creature” and declaring that “[y]ou need only look at her to know she has no drop of dragon’s blood in her” - but Mushroom, Munkun, and indeed Gyldayn all define Nettles first by her race, in a way they very obviously do not for the non-POC characters. With the racial xenophobia and prejudice which can permeate Westerosi society - see, for example, the dismissal of the current generation of Westerlings for the “doubtful blood” inherited from their Essosi great-grandmother, or the exotification of the Myrish Taena Merryweather, or the long history of antagonism against the people of Dorne from their non-Dornish Westerosi neighbors - Nettles might have found herself very much alone even among a triumphant black faction. Would she too be seen as a lesser dynastic prize, or ineligible for holdings in her own right, by virtue of her race, someone excluded from the upper echelon of Westerosi power politics because of the color of her skin and the foreign ancestry it represented?

So I could see where, even in a victory scenario, Nettles may not have found herself totally or indeed at all welcome among the black faction. Nettles was a young woman who challenged the expectations of Targaryen draconic power, and who did so despite her race, sex, and class all assigning her an otherwise likely permanently low-ranking position in Westerosi society. Sadly, Nettles’ actual choice at the end of the Dance IOTL demonstrates the limited options she faced even as someone ostensibly so powerful as a dragonrider; her best case scenario in a post-Dance world was to live in permanent exile from the only home she had ever known, among people who were completely alien to her in custom, religion, and background, left to be isolated, worshiped, and feared as a local god.

#asoiaf meta #nettles #alternate universe #dance of the dragons

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 13 days ago

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My dearest Cal, I come bearing emojis and writing vibes again and going back to my roots of slightly obsessing behind my screen on the buddieshannon fic:

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼��🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

(in all seriousness i am including this little meme because i need you to know this is fully how im in my head representing the emojis to you every single time. i am merely a humble knight offering my sword to you here and eagerly awaiting the fic snippets in return)

AHHH thank you! This is adorable and fuels me, thank you!

I'm going to go ahead and say 1k bc I am not counting that ahaha.

---

It’s a low blow. Especially when he’s changed so much. Been the sole provider for Chris when she was gone.

Eddie should probably tell her off right now, but instead he just giver her an icy glare. Which is worse. Somehow, it’s worse.

“Let’s just go,” he says. Frigid.

She might not have been the source of his bad mood now. But she’s confident she just bumped herself high up on the list.

◀️

In the car, she tries to apologize. Even though, really, the feeling part of her brain is much more set in her irritation than the thinking part.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she admits. “It wasn’t fair.”

“No,” Eddie agrees. “It wasn’t.”

Um, well… He’s not supposed to just agree. He’s supposed to also apologize for being cold and moody.

“It’s just…” Shannon says, hit with a wave of emotion. “Your literal only job at these things is to be excited and positive and tell me it’s going to be okay and that she’ll fit through my birth canal!”

Eddie makes a pained little noise in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he says through gritted teeth. “I am excited. I’m sure the birth will go just fine. I’m just not in a great headspace today, Shannon.”

She should probably let it rest at that.

Does she? No.

“It freaks me out when you get like this!” She complains.

“Get like what?” Eddie demands. “I can’t have one bad day without freaking you out? I haven’t done anything, Shannon.”

Does he even know how he’s acting? Like, can he see it? Or is she being entirely overly sensitive? This is completely how he used to be when he’d come home from overseas and he’d shut her out and they’d fight… And… And she just can’t fucking live like that again. But maybe he doesn’t even realize? Maybe she’s overreacting? She needs to test it.

“Why are you having a bad day?” She asks.

“What?” Eddie replies.

“You said you’re just having one bad day! Why are you having a bad day?”

Eddie groans. If he wasn’t driving, he’d probably make some annoyed little gesture. Pinching his nose or running a hand through his hair. Pointing at something. He likes to point. Like a keyed up hunting dog.

“There was arbitration today,” Eddie admits.

“Arbitration…” Shannon repeats. “For Buck?”

Eddie nods mutely.

“Oh,” Shannon whispers. So it’s not about her. Or the baby. Or anything but… Well, no. It’s still about family. Still about someone Eddie loves. Loves more than he will say.

Shannon hadn’t known about arbitration. Maddie’s being weird. Buck is avoiding her. Eddie is the personification of a storm cloud. Why would she have known?

“How’d it go?” She asks.

“Does it seem like it went well?” Eddie fires back.

Shannon glares at him. Bastard.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “It fucking sucked, okay?”

“What happened?” She asks.

He huffs. “He’s… I… I mean, they made me answer questions. Buck… He… He took it too far, Shannon. He crossed a line. Brought up personal shit of Bobby’s… He… I’m furious with him.”

“Okay,” Shannon says.

They pull into her apartment parking lot. Eddie parks the truck and kills the ignition. Neither of them moves.

“To me,” Shannon says cautiously. “It sounded like he had sort of a point? I mean, I don’t know any medical stuff, but… I heard about the rebar?”

Eddie scoffs. “It’s not the same thing, Shan. He could bleed out. He could get knocked into something and bleed internally. He could die, easily.”

Shannon’s stomach twists. “Okay. Okay, you’re saying, in your experience, having seen terrible things happen to human bodies, he shouldn’t be working?”

Another heavy sigh. “I don’t know, Shannon. He’s fine, but let’s say… Let’s say the same thing as before happened. He gets pinned by a fire engine. On these meds? He’s dead.”

Shannon nods. “Right.”

“And either way, he’s… He’s being an idiot! They won’t let him back to the station where he sued the captain.”

That’s… That’s probably true. Even Shannon can see that. But Buck can’t. He thinks he’s getting his job back.

“Okay,” Shannon says. “Alright. Ignore for a second that he’s probably wrong about all of this-”

“How?” Eddie demands.

“Just walk with me,” she insists.

Eddie clenches his jaw.

“Why are you mad at him, Eddie?” Shannon asks.

“Are you kidding?” Eddie asks.

“No,” Shannon says. “I’m not kidding.”

“Were you not listening to everything I just said?”

“I was,” Shannon nods. “And, okay. He’s being stupid and he’s wrong. Got it. Why are you mad at him?”

Eddie’s eyes get a little wet.

“Shannon…”

“Let’s talk it through, right?” Shannon says. “He’s suing your captain and your employer, not you. He’s your friend, even if you don’t work together. Why is this so personally upsetting, Eddie?”

He’s silent for a while. Longer than Shannon would expect. Like he’s really processing her question. Has he not bothered to ask himself this question? Or was everything that has happened with Buck’s lawsuit just been another thing he tried to swallow without chewing?

“I don’t understand why he’s doing this to us,” Eddie whispers finally.

“Who? The 118?” Shannon asks.

Eddie shakes his head. “Me and him.”

Oh.

“What do you mean?” She asks.

She thinks she knows, but she also thinks he should just… Say it. Try saying it. It helped her once. She’d never said out loud why she wouldn’t come home to him and Chris. And when she did, she could face it.

“Buck…” He starts, then he trails off. He wipes his eyes. “This is so dumb.”

“It’s not dumb, Eddie,” she argues. “You obviously need to talk about it.”

He inhales deeply. Long-suffering.

“It’s like he’s choosing this idea of the job - one that he could have had if he just waited and now won’t get - over us,” Eddie says. “Over… Our friendship.”

“Honestly? I don’t think he’s thinking about you,” Shannon says. “Not to be a dick… Just… I’m not sure he factored your reaction into his choice.”

#daisies and briars writes #buddie shannon throuple fic

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shadowmaat · 1 month ago

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Finders Keepers

Corrie Week, Day 6: Force-Sensitive Clone

"We get a lot of requests like this, unfortunately," Trooper Hound explained. "CorSec isn't big on helping the common folks unless there's something in it for them."

Seek nodded agreement, only half-listening. There was a young Nautolan girl missing, likely kidnapped by her estranged father. Hound had been approached by the distraught mother while showing Seek the basics of patrol-work.

Grizzer had her snout to the ground, sniffing the girl's trail, but Seek already knew they were on the right track. He'd always had a good sense for finding lost items. And people. And the occasional secret, like Commander Thire's hidden chocolate stash.

One alley they approached smelled strongly of lemons, as if someone had gotten the urge to try and scrub it clean, except there was no evidence of it. Seek took the turn and was halfway down it before Hound called out to him.

He looked back to see Hound consoling Grizzer, who was pawing at her nose and keening.

"Fucking scent bombs," Hound complained. "Bastard was prepared. I'll see if Grizzer can pick up the trail again, but it isn't looking good."

He sounded mournful. Seek knew they wouldn't give up the chase so easily, but without Grizzer's nose to lead them...

He hesitated. His finding ability was usually seen as either a cool party trick or a sign of dangerous mutation. He'd only been with the Guard for a week and had only met Hound at the start of shift, but he had a good feeling about all of them. More importantly, a little girl was missing and he could feel a clock counting down in his head.

"I think they went this way, sir," Seek said. "I'm really good at this sort of thing. It's how I wound up here."

The less said about that, the better.

"You think so?" Hound didn't sound skeptical so much as hopeful? Maybe?

Seek nodded. "I can't be sure," he lied, "but I think this is the way we need to go. She... she might be in trouble."

"Right. C'mon, Grizz." Hound scooped up the still whining massif and carried her into the alley past the worst of the lemon stench before putting her down again. "Lead the way, Seek."

Seek did, trusting his instincts to guide them. Through the alley, down another road, and then a shortcut through a building full of tents and wary-eyed locals.

As they were exiting through a hole in the side of the building a figure landed in front of them in a swish of blue robes.

Hound swore, blaster out and leveled while Grizzer growled a warning. Seek's hand drifted towards his blaster, but he wasn't sure it was needed.

The figure straightened, revealing a dark-skinned humanoid in a mix of blue and cream embroidered robes. Where their eyes should have been there was just skin, and an elaborately painted pair of eyes that seemed hawklike, given the feather patterns around the edges.

"Hands out and step back!" Hound ordered.

"Sorry," the figure said, complying. "I could have planned that a little better. I thought you might be someone else. Anyway! I'm Knight Naremi Twiss! I'm here to help!"

The raised arms revealed a tooled leather belt. And a lightsaber.

"Fuck! I mean, sorry, sir," Hound said, reholstering his blaster. "You surprised me."

"I do seem to have that effect on people, for some reason," Knight Twiss mused. "Anyway, no worries! Although I'm more of a she/her if that matters."

"Yes, ma'am." Hound introduced himself, Seek, and Grizzer, who was already happily accepting scritches from the Knight.

"Well met!" Twiss stood again. "I take it you're hunting the Blood Drinkers, too?"

Horror washed through Seek. "The... what?"

"Blood Drinkers?!" Hound's voice went up an octave.

"Well, that's what I call them." Twiss waved a dismissive hand. "Maybe you call them something else? They go around grabbing people and draining their blood to sell on the black market. Sometimes a little bit, sometimes all of it."

Seek shuddered.

"I think I might have heard some chatter about that back at the base," Hound said slowly. "But I didn't think it was that widespread. Or this high up the levels."

"We think they're increasing their operations." Twiss motioned for them to follow her. "And they have been sticking to the lower levels. That's why I'm not sure if this is them or something else."

"We're just trying to locate a kidnapped girl," Hound said. "But this sounds... bad. Should I call it in?"

Seek was relieved to see the Jedi was taking the same route he would have, although how she could see without eyes was beyond him. The Force, maybe. He also had the uneasy feeling that their case and the Jedi's might be linked. Somehow.

"There!"

He and Twiss stopped at the same time, pointing at an abandoned diner with blacked out windows.

"Jinx!" Twiss nudged her shoulder against Seek's. "C'mon, let's check it out!"

"I think we should wait," Hound said. "I called for backup. If this is more than just one missing kid or a couple of criminals trying to start a new medical scam, then it's going to take more than four of us to do this."

Grizzer huffed, as if agreeing.

Twiss nodded. "Okay, sure! That's probably a good idea. But let's go wait over there." She pointed toward the side of the building. There was a narrow passage and a propped-open door almost hidden in the dark.

"Can we, sir? Please?" Seek looked at Hound, fidgeting. The clock in his head was getting closer to running out.

"No going in!" Hound warned. "Not til backup arrives!"

"Yessir!"

"I mean, if you want to be logical about it, that's fine," Twiss agreed.

As they approached the side of the building, voices could be heard.

"-part of the deal! She's my daughter! You said I could keep her!"

The first voice had a swirly accent that reminded Seek of the missing girl's mother's voice.

"You didn't tell us she had a rare blood type."

The second voice sounded modulated, and much deeper than the first.

"Screw you, Nusk! I'm taking Tem and-"

Blaster fire erupted.

"DADDYYYY!"

Seek was already in motion without consciously choosing it. He and Twiss burst through the already-open door with Hound and Grizzer hot on their heels.

The inside of the derelict diner was surprisingly clean. There were a lot of medical-looking equipment around, including exam tables and IV stands with empty bags and tubing.

A scrawny, dark blue nautolan was on the floor, smoke rising from a blaster wound in his chest. A much younger, purple Nautolan was being dragged back by a long, furry brute while a Nemoidian ordered another one to "drain the dead one."

Everything seemed to speed up after that. Twiss launched herself at the one holding Tem. Seek fired a stun round at the Nemoidian, who dodged it. Hound was barking orders for the criminals to stand down and Grizzer was just barking.

One of the furry brutes fired a shot at Seek, only for Twiss to deflect it. Using some Force move, she launched one of the IV stands at them. They went down, tangled in the tubing.

The one holding Tem hauled her up into their arms, only to yell and drop her as she bit him. She scrambled back toward her father as two more figures burst through the doors of what would have been the kitchen area.

Seek was lining up another stun shot when the Nemoidian pulled something from his pocket and threw it.

Thick smoke filled the room, obscuring everything. Despite that, the blaster fire continued. Seek paused, lined up a shot, and fired.

There was a yell as someone hits the ground. Twiss's pale blue blade cut through the smoke, followed by the scream of whomever she'd hit.

A snarl and a yelp indicated that Grizzer's caught someone, and Seek can hear the clink of binders as Hound reads them their rights.

"Bright Guy! Catch!"

Seek holstered his blaster and turned, knowing where and when to hold out his arms. He caught the wailing, coughing Nautolan girl and headed for the exit.

"I've got the girl," he told Hound over internal comms. "Taking her out of the smoke."

"Copy."

As he rounded the front of the diner he saw a squad of fellow Guardsmen approaching.

"Trooper! Report!"

Twiss staggered out of the smoke, coughing, followed by Hound and Grizzer, who was wheezing, but looking satisfied with herself.

Hound and Twiss are the the ones to fill in Thorn and his squad. That left Seek free to remove his helmet and try to comfort Tem, who wanted absolutely nothing to do with Clicker's attempts to check her for injuries.

Eight underlings were captured or dead, including Tem's father. The Nemoidian in charge, unfortunately, managed to escape.

"I'll be able to find him again," Seek said. "I know it."

"That's why I like you, Bright Guy." Twiss appeared at his side. "And it's also why I'm taking you home with me."

Seek stared at her, bewildered.

"Look, General," Thorn started. "We're grateful for-"

"Not a General," Twiss corrected. "They don't trust me with troops. Except this one." She grinned at Seek.

"Uh..." Seek said.

Her eye makeup had smeared a bit during the fight, almost making it seem like she was winking.

"We're grateful for your help," Thorn continued. "But you can't simply take a trooper home with you to celebrate."

Seek's whole face burned, and he could feel it spreading down his chest.

Twiss laughed. "If that's what I was doing, you'd be absolutely right," she said. "But in this case I need him for Secret Jedi Reasons related to Secret Jedi Things."

Seek could almost hear Thorn grinding his teeth.

"It's okay, sir," he said. "I'll go."

Thorn tipped his helmet. Taking the hint, Seek put his own helmet back on. Tem's mother had arrived on scene shortly after the Guard, so she was in safe hands.

"If anything happens, Fox will have both our heads," Thorn warned.

Seek swallowed before answering. "I know, sir. But she's a Jedi. And I think... I think this might help."

Torn's helmet glared at Twiss.

"His shift ends in three hours. If he isn't back by then..."

"I promise I'll do my very best, Commander," Twiss said. "Now, if you'll excuse us, soonest gone is soonest returned."

As they headed for the nearest speeder dock, Twiss smiled at him.

"So, Trooper Seek, what do you know about Force sensitivity?"

#jedimindfic #corrieweek2024 #Trooper Hound #Twiss is an OC from another fic #she means well but can be a chaos magnet #my tenses may be mixed up #flipping between past tense fic and present tense RP is bad kids

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masterqwertster · 12 days ago

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Trick or treat! 🎃

Trick or Treat! (Prompt)

And for you, an early Anni Aughta and Ashton fic that was also started and not finished

Anni’s starting to think that she shouldn’t have agreed to play at The Double Tap. She’s been waiting for the bartender to bring her cut of the night’s earnings for ten minutes now, and for the last three, she’s had to deal with some dumb fuck who doesn’t know the meaning of “fuck off.”

It’s at the point that Anni is about ready to slap an idiot and turn this into an altercation, despite him having three or four friends sitting at a table while she only has herself, that there’s a weighty thump that hushes the small bar.

She turns to see Ashton Greymoore standing confidently about five feet behind her, bedecked in worn red and black leathers that display their corded arms and leaning against a hammer that looks more decorative than functional with its glass head. But only if you ignore the well-worn grip wrappings and that the most basic weapon enchantment is one to keep them from breaking easily.

“The fuck is taking you so long, Anni? We’ve got places to be,” they drawl, just the slightest hint of annoyance coloring their tone.

That’s a fucking lie. Anni has only known Ashton for the last three days, despite living in the Krook House for the past two weeks herself. And in those three days, Ashton’s spent probably half his time sleeping and the other half being a fucking asshole while making a valiant effort to empty the pantry. They don’t work together, and Anni has no fucking clue why he’s here and acting like they do.

But his eyes flicker to the asshole that’s been propositioning her, and she at least knows why he drew attention.

“I don’t need a fucking white knight,” Anni hisses out. She can handle herself, thank you very much. And she sure as fuck doesn’t need this asshole thinking she owes him one.

“Sure. Make up your mind about shanking a bitch and let’s go,” Ashton lazily agrees, rocking their hammer a little.

Anni huffs. She has a knife (though she’s not sure if Ashton actually knows that), so she could, as they put it, ‘shank a bitch.’ But Anni’s really not the type to do violence. The knife is more a precaution than anything, for if things go absolutely tits up. She’s not great with it, but she does know how to use it effectively.

The creep stiffens and backs off a bit. He’s finally realized, maybe, that she has been done with his bullshit for a while now. At the very least, he doesn’t want to get stabbed. Which is fair.

“Stabbing this fucker would be too much of a mess,” Anni says with a sigh to help encourage that retreat, hating having to lean into Ashton’s act. “And I’m still waiting to get paid by the fucking barkeep,” she grumbles.

“Fucking hell,” Ashton sighs. He saunters forwards, bringing his hammer up and around in a lazy sweep that ends in an incongruously loud thump on the bar top, much like the one that announced his presence earlier.

“Ah, yes?” the bartender nervously asks, eyes darting to the hammer.

Ashton nods to Anni, making it clear they’re not the ones with a request to be fulfilled.

“I’m still waiting for my money,” she clearly states, letting her annoyance shine.

“Oh, right,” they say, eyes flickering to Ashton and the hammer head resting on the bar top.

It takes less than a minute for them to toss a sack of coin to Anni. When she peeks inside to see the denomination of the coins and tests the heft of it, she finds it suspiciously light for the amount of traffic seen while she was playing.

“Are you trying to fucking short me?” Anni growls, baring her tusks.

Ashton drags their hammer back across the bar, leaving gouges in the wood. Anni hadn’t given it thought before, but the glass head has irregular planes and edges, giving a bit of sharpness to a weapon of blunt force.

“Oh, silly me! Here we are,” the bartender nervously laughs, giving her another few silver as their eyes dart to Ashton once more.

Fuck this bastard. Couldn’t put together a sack of coins in ten fucking minutes, couldn’t even put in the right amount, after all the work she put in, but a little threat of violence and suddenly there’s service.

Anni takes the money with a sneer and storms out of The Double Tap, Ashton lazily following at her heels. It grates, to know that she had to rely on his presence to finish the night without problem. Anni’s been looking out for herself for a while now, she can handle herself, doesn’t need someone to save her. And yet Ashton fucking Greymoore had swooped in with a rescue.

She fucking hates it.

A few streets away from the bar, Anni whirls to give the genasi a piece of her mind, only for a solid hand to her shoulder to whirl her right back around to facing forward.

“You can yell at me if you want to, but not here,” Ashton murmurs, hand falling away the moment she is turned back around. “Wait until the gondola or we’re back at the House.”

And she wants to rage against that too, but their eyes are serious, their posture tensed and ready. As much as she dislikes following their lead, experience says that heeding someone else’s caution rarely hurts. Especially when you’re in the less nice parts of Jrusar. So Anni silently fumes as they weave their way through the streets of the Smolder Spire.

It’s late, so there isn’t a lot of traffic as they wind up from the lower levels to the nearest gondola. As they pass through a dark and empty stretch of road, it happens. A figure darts out of an alleyway and Ashton shoves her out of their path, grunting as he does so. The figure pulls back, and there’s a knife in their hand, coated in a dark, almost oily substance.

The sound of rumbling earth meets Anni’s ears, and it takes a moment for her to realize it isn’t the ground itself rumbling, but Ashton. She’s well aware that they are as made of rock as they appear to be, yet she’s never considered how that might affect their vocal chords. In the dark of night with only the light of the stars and moon (and the dancing lights beneath Ashton’s glass), it’s unnerving. Especially as Ashton has taken on an openly aggressive stance, hammer braced in both hands.

#mq&a #trick or treat prompt #mqfic #critical role #ashton greymoore #anni aughta

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dokimarvose · 3 months ago

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One way I feel hotd really did drop the ball this season was with Rhaena and Baela. From giving the actors fake hair that really shows on camera, to having them barely on screen, barely speaking, barely having character arcs... it feels insulting not just because of the misogynoir of it all, but because there's so much potential?

Without changing anything else about the season, it would be so easy to, maybe not fix their storylines, but inject some much needed intrigue and character into it, with just a few additions. Yeah yeah I know they should have hired me so sad for them that they didn't. Whatever.

Baela: when our pouty prince Jace is constantly whining to her about his place in society and his mom and his worries about the future, Baela barely contributes. She doesn't have much of a reaction to Daemon abandoning them, and there's no resolution for them. Granted, Jace doesn't really resolve anything with Rhaenyra either. But during episode 8 when Jace is complaining to her (again), Baela saying "that does not make me common!" was the wrong choice I believe. This was a perfect moment to have her relate to Jace, not just offer empty platitudes. Because if the only thing separating Jace from the average (low born) bastard is his dragon, the only thing separating Baela from all other women and their complete lack of respect, power, agency, or rights, is also her dragon!

I just feel like it was a missed opportunity. Have her reiterate and reinforce the themes about misogyny? She's going to be his queen, she's already consigned to the role of consort (Daemon's whole baggage this season), does she not think anything of that? When she has as much freedom (and responsibility) as she does solely because she's part of a magical race that invented dragon husbandry and her egg hatched when her sister's didn't? Speaking of her sister.

Rhaena: oof. Just oof. In my solution, Nettles does exist and is coming, so hear me out. Dedicate a few more scenes to a) showing Lady Jeyne sending out search parties for Rhaena. We really do need to show anyone caring that she dipped basically as soon as the gates were shut? And we need to show b) Rhaena actively avoiding the knights of the Vale. Show her being a freak honestly. Like her defining trait is her tenacity to the point of unwellness. She's so desperate to get a dragon and get the approval and respect that Baela has (and Rhaenys had) that she'll tromp through Wales without food or water for hours if not days.

She needs to do this, and she needs to do it on her own. She'll spurn any help and she won't stop. It's that simple. Then when she finally finds Sheepstealer, and this would be her first scene in season 3 in my brain, have Nettles appear out of the fog and be like "hey that's my dragon btw" and then you would not only have a chance to please book readers, but to get another black girl on screen and have her start to build a new relationship dynamic with a Targaryen princess. I don't know, the possibilities are endless to me, the kind of conversations they could have. How would this random (non-Valyrian?) girl be able to bond with a dragon? Is Rhaena really so unlucky that her best chance was thwarted just like that? By a girl who looks like her and her sister?

The under the surface jealousy and resentment she must be suppressing would surely bubble to the surface, and Rhaena would get a chance to really have some scenes that leave any kind of emotional impact. It's not perfect, I don't think Nettles is going to show up in the actual show, but it's more than a few scenes of her running.

#hotd #asoiaf #baela targaryen #baela and rhaena #rhaena targaryen #rhaena of pentos #baela the brave #house of the dragon

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farity · 8 months ago

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Sorrow, part 13

"I wish to go with you."

Aemond studied his wife. He was leaving the following day to get hands on Jacaerys Velaryon and to mete out some long-delayed consequences to Elyse's former brother-in-law.

After a week and a half, starved and nearly mad with fear, Jace had made a run for Vermax, the dragon that had now been secured by the men Ser Otto had sent to surround the estate. The bastard boy had been caught, but Aemond wanted it to be him who faced the Prince of Dragonstone and told him he would be prince of nothing for the rest of his life.

"Are you sure?"

Elyse nodded. "I wish to see him when you capture him. When you put an end to his aspirations."

Aemond pressed his lips together before reaching for her. "Has my soft and sweet wife developed a taste for vengeance?"

She wrapped her arms around his waist, her head on his chest. "I want him to know I do not fear him."

"Very well, then I shall make arrangements." He could not deny her. He knew well the deep seated need for retribution, how consuming it could be to know that someone who had hurt you was not suffering by your own hand, and he would not deny her that.

He speared his hand through her hair, pulling her back so he could kiss her. He had not imagined such a thing, such an addiction to touching her. If she weren't so responsive maybe he could hold back, tell himself that she was with him because he had rescued her and given her a safe place to live her life.

As much as he didn't want to examine his feelings, Aemond knew it went far beyond gratitude for her. Far beyond protectiveness for him. How far he did not know and he had to keep his wits about him for what was to come.

* * * * *

As quiet as she was during the ride to her old home, Aemond could feel the worry and nerves that started to plague her. She was strong, incredibly so, to have not only survived as she had, but to keep her kind and gentle nature, to keep her heart from hardening into stone. But it didn't mean she did not fear, even if he would strike down anyone who'd dare think of harming her.

When they pulled in to the gates of the small estate, Cole nodded to the men who had surrounded it for the past weeks. "My prince," the knight said, turning to Aemond, "my princess, say the word and we shall have the traitors brought out."

"Bring the bastard boy out," Aemond said, and turned to Elyse. "I will leave the fate of the Lord to you, wife."

Elyse stared at him. They had not discussed this. They had not discussed much of anything, really, other than coming here to have the two men surrender. Her former brother-in-law and the Prince of Dragonstone. But she met his gaze and nodded, and let him dismount and come over to help her off her horse.

She knew he would have ridden Vhagar if she hadn't wanted to accompany him. She was still terrified of the great beast, but she would prove to Aemond that she was brave, that she could place her hand on the old dragon's side without shaking with fear.

Three men came out of the house, a dark haired young man in the center, the two on either side holding him as they walked.

"Are you going to kill me, too, Kinslayer?" the young man, Jacaerys, shouted, and Elyse winced.

If Aemond minded the taunt, he didn't show it. "Jacaerys Velaryon. Your mother, the usurper Rhaenyra Targaryen, is dead. And you are no longer Prince of Dragonstone. You are Prince of Nothing."

Jacaerys tried to lunge at Aemond but the men holding him would not budge.

"You can bend the knee and I will allow you to live the rest of your years in Essos, or you can rot in our dungeons until the Stranger takes you. You have until we reach King's Landing to decide."

Aemond turned before Jacaerys could reply, and without giving him a second thought, went to Elyse, taking one of her hands in his. "Have you decided what you wish to do?" he asked softly.

"I do not think we can trust him to keep his word if he says he will bend the knee," she said. "But I do not wish his death on my conscience, either."

"We can find somewhere to put him," Aemond said with an ease he did not feel. The man had watched as Elyse was harmed, had let it happen, had cheered on his brother to hurt and humiliate her. If it was up to him, he'd tear the man's limbs off his body one by one. But Elyse had wanted to be here. And he would give her the choice, abide by it, and not show her the rage that burned inside him.

"Not in King's Landing," she replied.

Aemond shook his head. "He would not be anywhere near you." He kissed her fingers, and said very gently, "he will never again be close to you. I swear it."

She looked up at him, her eyes trusting, and she nodded. "I will let Ser Criston know he can bring him out."

* * * * *

Her back was straight, her shoulders squared, her hands clasped together, and when the man appeared, flanked by two of Cole's men, she did not react.

"My lord," she said when he set eyes on her. "You are to be taken to a place of my choosing, where you will spend the rest of your days. Your title and lands are forfeit, and the House ends with you."

When he spat near her feet, she still did not move, but Aemond's grip on his sword tightened. "Stupid bitch, my brother should have let you die, you rotten little whore-"

This time Aemond did not hold back, and he planted his fist in the middle of the man's face with a sickening crunch. He heard Elyse's soft gasp, but to her credit, she did not flinch.

"Shall I cut off his tongue, wife, for disrespecting you?"

When he turned, he saw she had paled, but she was still composed, despite the way the lord's broken nose gushed blood.

"He did nothing to stop my suffering, husband, so I will let you decide and I will turn my head and look away, as he did."

* * * * *

"Elyse."

She was looking out the window in their bedchamber. She'd said almost nothing on the way back home, and she'd headed straight for their room when they arrived at the keep. Usually she would go see the children or at least say hello to Helaena but this time she was quiet, and Aemond decided he would not let it consume her.

"Elyse."

She turned, startled, and smiled at him. "Husband, I apologize, were you-"

"There is nothing to apologize for. Come here."

Dutifully, she walked to him, extended her arms to him, and let him pull her in.

"Tell me," he demanded."

"What?"

"Your thoughts. I would know them."

She pulled back, studying him. "I am glad to be home, that is all."

He caressed her cheek, kissed the tip of her nose. "That is not all, wife. I would not have you hide from me. I know today was difficult and I would not see you dwelling on these events. If you must think of what transpired today, then I wish to share in your thoughts."

She smiled again. "Aemond, truly, there is nothing to share."

He had to smile back. Despite his instinct telling him that she was very much thinking about what had transpired earlier, he could not resist the sweet way she looked at him. No one else had ever looked at him like that, and he would not push her if she was not ready to tell him.

* * * * *

Aemond awoke to the sound of her screams.

Even before he was fully awake, he had reached for her, placed himself protectively around her, when he realized that she was in the grip of a nightmare.

"Elyse," he said, pulling her up to sitting as the door opened and her maid rushed in. He heard the guard rushing in, the sound of his sword being freed from the scabbard, but he was only focused on his wife.

Elyse's eyes opened and he saw the confusion and terror in the dim light of dawn. Tears had fallen down her face and she now looked at him, her cold, cold hands gripping his arms. "Aemond."

"You're safe," he said steadily. "I have you."

The maid walked around the bed, carrying a cup. "Princess, this will help."

"What is it?" Aemond demanded.

"Orange blossoms are good for settling down the nerves. She has taken it before."

He turned to Elyse, who nodded and reached out for the cup. She sipped slowly, and he simply held her other hand. She had not had a nightmare in a long time, but he was not surprised that the previous day would have caused one.

"Thank you," she said quietly, handing the cup back. The maid curtsied and left along with the guard, closing the door gently behind them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Aemond, I'm so-"

He pulled her in, his throat too tight to speak. He knew what horror nightmares could be, but he had not suffered what she had. He could not imagine. He kissed the top of her head, wanting to take all that pain away, wanting to free her from it, despairing that he could not.

He felt her heart beating wildly against his chest, her unsteady breathing, but she let him soothe her, and he decided to try something else.

"Tell me about the orphanage."

She pulled back, swiped at her eyes, and gave him a small smile. "I think the children will like it," she began, "it will be a happier place than the old one, larger."

He saw the immediate change in her, when she spoke of helping others, and sat up against the headboard with her in his arms. "Tell me everything."

* * * * *

"What will you do with Jacaerys?"

Aemond tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. "As I guessed, he will not bend the knee. Not that I would trust him if he did, but he cannot be kept anywhere he will cause trouble."

Elyse walked over to where he sat, leaned down and kissed his cheek. "So young, and now his future is to rot," she murmured, and gasped when Aemond pulled her over to sit on his lap.

She had not had any nightmares in the last few days, and he'd encouraged her when she'd wanted to visit the new orphanage, make sure all was as she envisioned. Her face was no longer so pale, her features not so drawn, and he thought, maybe, she was happy here. With him.

"I do not wish to speak of Jacaerys Velaryon," he said against her ear. "Not when you're sitting here, so warm and soft in my arms."

She sighed when he took her mouth, threaded her fingers through his hair, and when he rose to take her to their bed, she wrapped her arms around him.

"I much prefer to speak of you, wife," he said, running a hand up her calf.

"Of me?" she asked, unlacing her dress. "What would you say of me?"

He ran his hand back down to her ankle, brought it up to his lips and kissed the hollow inside as Elyse squirmed. "I would speak of your delightful legs, and how good they feel wrapped around me."

She blushed, but undid the rest of her clothes as he pulled off his shirt.

He pushed her down onto the bed once she'd tugged off the dress, and brushed her hair off her face. "I would tell you how I love your breasts." Before she could reply, he dipped down to taste one, smiling when she arched against him. "They're soft, like the finest silk," he added, rubbing his cheek against one small mound.

"Aemond," she whispered.

"I would tell you that you're soft all over, and your skin smells like wildflowers, and I cannot get enough of it."

He kissed his way down over her ribs, which he was glad to see were not as prominent any more. She made a little noise when he kissed her belly, and whimpered when he spread her legs open, "I would tell you the taste of you is intoxicating." He ran his tongue between her legs and she moaned. He gripped her hips, holding her still while she grabbed at the bedding.

He felt the moment she gave in, the feel of her fingers in his hair as she began rolling her hips, seeking release. He didn't stop, not when she came the first time, not when her moans grew loud enough that he knew the guards outside could hear, not when he saw tears rolling down the sides of her face. She was mindlessly chanting his name, her body his and he wanted, oh, he wanted to sink inside her so badly, but he wanted this more, to see her surrender to the pleasure he could give her, lost to everything but him. If it made him a monster, so be it. She knew what she'd married.

Only when she said, "please," did he stop, and then only to drive inside her, to feel her heat surrounding his cock and feel her shaky legs go around him. He loomed over her, one hand on her cheek as he held himself on the other. Her face was flushed, her skin so warm, and he knew he wasn't going to last long, so he buried his face in her hair and let the tide take him.

* * * * *

"I am offering you one chance, Lord Strong. To regain what is left of your dignity and bring peace to the realm."

From where he sat in his cell, Jacaerys Velaryon stared up at Aemond with rage in his eyes. But Aemond saw there was also curiosity, and he had counted on that to be the key to this conversation.

"Speak, Kinslayer," Jacaerys spat. "As you see, I am very busy here in your dungeon."

Aemond smirked. "I am offering you a place in the Small Council."

* * * * *

#hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond x oc #hotd smut

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ask-the-nine-links · 1 year ago

Note

This is another Anon, This is going to be a long one unfortunately, I'm really sorry.

I'm looking at all of your families and trying to figure them out, Four and Wild have blacksmiths for family, Four's Grandfather and Wild's Father.

Legend seems to be either a legitimate prince or a royal bastard (born out of wedlock).

Time's father was a Royal Knight though his mother might have just been a housewife.

Wind's parents were probably fisherfolk.

Sky's might have been Sky Knights or just one of the other jobs on Skyloft.

Hyrule, I'm not sure, maybe just regular civilians.

The final two, Warriors' father might have been a Knight as well or another blacksmith (as that seems to be a common trend) and his mother might be a weaver.

Twilight's on the other hand seem to be a complete unknown unless you count Rusl, who is basically his father, in which case he seems to be a former soldier, maybe even have had training as a Royal Knight despite being Ordonian.

I'm not sure if I got everything correct you may have to look up records in your own times or ask the nearest Zelda

Also Time, did you know Midna or am I just confusing Universes again as I remember seeing Midna hug your Shade's wolf form while crying and saying "You were alive this whole time, weren't you?"

And one last thing, I promise, Legend, I bought this jewellery box off of Ravio for 20 rupees a month ago, as it looked pretty and thought my mother might like it but I can't open it and why does it smell of darkness and dried blood? I think its trying to eat my hand.

Wild: I'm going to be one hundred percent honest, you probably know more about our families then we do.

Hyrule: Which is kinda sad, when you think about it.

Wild: Yeah, which is why we don't.

Time: As of right now, I don't know Midna outside of what Twi has told me, but maybe I'll meet her later on.

Legend: You were seriously dumb enough to buy something off of Ravio for that cheap?! If he's selling like a jewelry box for less than 100 rupees, then something is seriously wrong with it.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu time #lu legend

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twistedstoryteller · 8 months ago

Text

Linked Universe Headcanons I have

I’ve been in the fandom for awhile now, and I got a couple headcanons formed cause of it(might add more to it if I remember/think of more to add here)

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Four and Wind are related being each other’s ancestor and descendant respectively. Four is very fond of both Wind and Aryll. He’s slightly protective of them too.

Wind and Tetra’s great great granddaughter is Spirit Tracks Zelda while Aryll’s great great grandson is Spirit or Spirit Tracks Link.

Fable and Legend are twins(therefore Legend part of family tree), though they were separated at birth due to a very unfair law regarding about natural born princes that formed in the downfall timeline(Do not worry Legend and Fable obviously got rid of that law when Fable became queen). The Hylia “bastards” became a thing in that timeline.

Ravio and Hilda are twins as well. It’s just Ravio status as prince of Lorule never actually came up(heck none of the citizens of Lorule realize that Ravio is well “Ravio”, not just because he wore that bunny mask. Mostly due to Ravio as prince behave cold and detached. He cares for Lorule just as much, but well. He is very cunning for a reason)

Four has a dad. It’s just said dad was very busy with his knight duties and wasn’t very home often thus making things very awkward between both father and son, especially when Four was part of the knights of Hyrule for sometime(FSA Manga beginning) but later switch back to being a blacksmith. Four and his dad are getting along slightly better since FSA. It still can be awkward at times.

Sky very fond of his great great great whatever how many greats granddaughters aka the other Zeldas(after he actually got through the process of being embarrassed he and Sun basically created the entire royal bloodline). He’s a hugger too, and he also hugs Legend upon finding out the other is his great great great whatever how many greats grandson.

Twilight is actually Legend’s and Fable’s uncle in another life. Dusk is also Legend’s and Fable’s mother in another life. Maybe?(I’m on the fence on this one but I really like it :D)

Hyrule’s mom from another life is Tatl. It was pretty interesting when he ran into her in Time’s era. Especially considering Hyrule is technically half fairy 🧚🏼‍♂️(based on my headcanon on him)

Let’s just say in the time where all the timelines merge back into one aka Warriors’s era. Legend, Hyrule, Twilight, and Wind own spirits that dwell will get the most interesting experience of having two other lifetime of memories shoved into their heads(the timeline they were heroes in being the most prominent or more present in their psyche. At least the ones they personally chose to identify themselves as, aka it’s filtered to be the one they remember immediately, they have to actually try to think to remember the other two timelines. Both Twilight and Legend were pretty awkward around each other cause of it). Time got lucky cause it was only two timelines worth of memories, the one he lived and the fallen(got the most awkward experience of remembering himself dying in the fallen timeline), Four though. Oh boy, all three set of memories from three different timelines cause well. Remember the palace of the four sword and he was sealed in the sword somehow. Yeah all three sets of memories of three different timelines shoved into his head does not sit pretty well in his head for him. Pretty sure he fainted at least four seconds later after that(and does not have the same type of filter as the others contributed to that as his own lifetime was before the split by Time), at least he was with Sky(Sky got lucky |:[).

Warriors, Time/Mask, and Wind both knew each other during the war. They bonded pretty well to the point they actually saw each other’s as brothers(heck Wind actually tackled hug Warriors when seeing him again).

Time may not exactly behave like it but he still has a mischievous gremlin streak. He just hides it way better than he did when he was younger. Hyrule is Legend’s descendant. Therefore technically related to the royal family but very distantly.

Twilight knows the Lon Lon family song, even if he doesn’t exactly remember where it came from since he was very little when he had wandered into the forest of Ordon. Rusl and Uli were his adoptive parents in a way cause of it(bless them, they were very kind and sweet for him. Colin and his younger sister adore Twilight just as much)

all the Links are all canonically very attractive and beautiful. Unfortunately Four and Legend have this feminine look and feel to them that sometimes get them mistaken for being fair maidens more than once. Legend gets it worse off as at least the way Four presents himself helps(when split as the colors, it’s Red and Vio that get mistaken as girls out of the four). Of course that doesn’t mean Four and Legend don’t take advantage of it when seeing/spotting a good opportunity to use the ability of being mistaken for being female(doesn’t help both have scary talent in being able to mimic a female voice very well).

Four has a dogish cat named “Wolfie”. Who unlike normal cats, actually recognized Four and protected him from other cats(Wolfie happened to love the Minish just as much as Four does). Wolfie the only cat Four actually adores, cause in Four’s words “Wolfie is an exception, he isn’t like any regular cat!” just like Legend would feel about Pyoko since Pyoko’s a cucco, and cuccos are something all the chain(except for Sky) would fear and rather keep away from at all times.(also yes Four is well aware the fact his cat named “Wolfie” and there’s a wolf named “Wolfie” too)

Four, Time, and Legend have one of the most beautiful singing voices out of all the chain. All of them have great singing voices however Four, Time, and Legend have the most beautiful in that order(of course Legend doesn’t show that talent of singing off either as slightly open as the others due to well, everything he been through, especially what happened with Marin, she was the last person he had sung his whole heart for, Ravio has actually helped Legend slowly open up with his singing. Time doesn’t sing as much either however Warriors and Wind remember how beautiful and soothing sounding Mask’s own singing was, and Time is slowly getting more willing to sing the more time he spent with the chain. Four actually was the most comfortable and okay singing in front of others regarding out of the three. Also, they technically have Disney Princess quality singing, heck maybe even better.)

Time/Mask used to love singing often back in the Kokiri Forest. Even though he had his status as a no fairy boy back than, not even Mido can deny Link had the most beautiful singing voice out of the Kokiri. Every creature in the forest loved hearing Link’s singing. Time/Mask later stopped because of his journey especially after Navi left and his time in Termina(the only person he was even willing to sing for at the time was Malon, Epona was an already guaranteed). He slowly did get comfortable singing privately for Warriors, Artemis, and Wind. Later it would extend to the rest of the chain especially Twilight and Wild.

Out of all the colors, Green actually got to keep the soft soothing singing voice Four is practically known for. Of course they(Green, Red, Blue, and Vio) all technically have Four’s beautiful singing voice, it’s just Green has the most beautiful singing when it comes to gentle and soft songs(like Zelda’s Lullaby) The other colors got the other parts of Four’s singing voice aka they sing the other parts of Four’s singing very well(I will answer which parts of it another time). Random side note but Shadow really good at singing too to the point he and Four can do a duet with each other(He and Vio already did one together once, but only that one time back when Vio had pretended to be working for the villains)

Zeffa is very important to Four and not just because I see Zeffa as Four’s loftwing. Zeffa and Four are partners the same way as Sky and Crimson are. Not only that but Zeffa actually loves to listen to Four’s singing voice, especially when Zeffa flying Four around. Also Zeffa is very fond of Green, Red, Blue, and Vio(the four are in a way Four after all)

Wild may not be able to easily recoil the memories as his own. He still feels some remnant of attachment and love for Mipha. Especially since Mipha had always seen Wild, as himself not just “the hero”. Mipha’s spirit stayed with Wild even if she had a chance to pass on. She didn’t.

Warriors is Spirit or Spirit Track Link. He and Artemis(whose Spirit Track Zelda) experienced the timeline merging when they were around they were the ages of 16-17, and they woke up one morning not only seeing that new Hyrule freaking changed! That not only that the country now called Hyrule again, both Warriors and Artemis literally woke up with two other set of memories they clearly know were not there the night before. It was not the most enjoyable experience for either of them(Will not always use this type of headcanon but I do really liked it and might use it in some works of mine)

Legend experience at the palace of the four sword was traumatizing to say the very least. Especially when he later realized he killed Four in that time as he didn’t recognize Four at first(just a sense of dread he can’t explain). He only realized upon seeing Four split for the first time his mind clicked that yeah. He killed an older Four there. Legend couldn’t exactly look Four properly in the eye for awhile

Remember that Ocarina of Time manga where Time had befriended a certain boss dragon monster but had to kill his that dragon when he got older aka Volvagia. Well technically in the child timeline that dragon, never became evil cause of Ganon right? So technically that means that dragon alive but never was under ganondorf’s influence. That just means the dragon living off peacefully somewhere with a happy dragon family(possibly still visit Time somehow). Hmmm, should we still call that dragon “Volvagia” or should we call the fellow something else. Hmmm “Volga” maybe?(totally not tempted to make this dragon the same one from Hyrule Warriors for some random yet potentially angst inducing reason 😶💧, ha ha ha where would you ever get that idea 😅 he he he). Side note the little dragon has heard Time sing before, both in the adult and child timeline.

Four became a sword spirit after LU(No I will not elaborate how exactly. Let’s just say “Palace of the Four Sword”). That random and potentially angst idea aside, Four can still see the Minish as he is interacted with them long enough to still be able to see them possibly all the way till he is very old and grey.

The Chain do reunite once more after their adventure together. How? That part is up for debate. Very up to debate.

Also I really like the headcanon that the Hero of Men(one that Four looked up to a lot just as much as he did with the hero of skies) was actually a minish. A forest minish to be exact

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And that’s all I can think of for now. Still might add more later, who knows. 😅

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu sky #lu four #lu green #lu red #lu blue #lu vio #lu time #lu twilight #lu wind #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu wild #headcanon

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