#(they were both treated as pawns by their family and forced into a situation they didn't want)

[dreamedfyre-a]

hel.aena was 15 when the twins were born (and as far as i could deduce from the characters' apparent ages the show didn't change that 🙃). her pregnancy was taken as good news (it was, after all, the point of marrying her to ae.gon, which is made clear by how when the twins are born it's celebrated with commentaries on prince ae.gon 'having heirs of his own'; strengthening his line and therefore his claim with more undoubtedly valyrian heirs) but hel.aena was terrified — and it didn't get better.

she hated every minute of it. how it made her feel and how it made her change and how it made her even more sensitive to certain things (sensorialy speaking) and the pain and discomfort and how she was expected to be happy. she didn't want to be a mother. sure enough, she had known that was to happen eventually, but she had hoped not so soon. once they knew for sure she was with child, the princess prayed it would be a boy so that it might be enough for ae.gon to have his heir without her having to go through this again.

the twins were born a few weeks early, as isn't uncommon for twins (but might have been seen as worrying by maesters, given in universe knowledge of these things). it wasn't an easy birth. it took hours for jae.haerys to be born and jae.haera was a breech baby. excessive blood loss could have claimed her life, but ultimately it did not. it did, however, nothing to make her feel better about the whole thing.

although she would spend time with them often, a lot of the actual caring for the babies was left to their wetnurse and maids. her unhappiness with her marriage and her troubles with pregnancy itself did not greatly impact how she felt about them (she does not blame them for things outside their control, and doesn't really take it out on them in any way. her frustrations are turned inside, more often than not ); though her age and inexperience would make her distant, especially when the children would make her feel overwhelmed (which happened more often when they were babies, and she would be glad to hand them over to someone else if it felt like too much).

she learned to deal with it better through the years (better for the kids, at least; not so much for her making things worse on herself by suppressing them to take care of the children and making it worse when she can no longer hold back; but then again, so much of her experiences already consists on masking and shoving aside anything that's not acceptable until she can't). and, despite her issues, she was always affectionate with them.

when she got pregnant a second time, she wasn't really less scared. it was perhaps worse. the first experience had been terrible, and she expected this would be just as bad. mae.lor was easier on her, though; while there was much she still hated about being pregnant, it was less painful and tiring. the delivery was easy; it took only a few hours for him to be born.

he also benefited from being third. hel was 19 when he was born, being older and more experienced as a mother from having the twins. while a lot of the basic care would still be overseen by servants, she was a lot closer to him from the start, and likely more involved.

which isn't to say he's her favorite (just the babiest. and the one she's able to enjoy? more? from the start. WELL i don't know if he's the favorite 🤧). for now i stand by the fact she doesn't have one. they're all loved and cherished and she does her best to ensure they know. while the circumstances were... less than ideal, to put it very mildly, hel loves them very much.

[hllywdwhre]

Revenge - Tommy Shelby

Summary: Reader takes personal offense over Sabini’s attack on Tommy

Warnings: arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, reader leaves a message written in blood, smut, creampie, light degrading, oral smut (f receiving), overstim, p in v, let me know if I missed any

Notes: I made this text post about protective reader and decided to write it lmfao. I want Tommy with a feral woman. Thank you to @slut4thebroken for proof reading, encouragement, and suggestions💖

MDNI, 18+ only

You weren’t quite sure how it had happened.

Scratch that.

You knew exactly how it had happened.

Your father and Tommy had worked out a deal when Sabini had first started trying to intimidate your father. A bride in exchange for protection and both of them walked away with extra allies when the inevitable war against Sabini broke out. You’d protested the marriage at first, screaming that you were more than just a political pawn for your father to sell when he needed help, but it went through anyway.

You had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. Sure, Tommy was distant and seemed obsessed with work, but you knew you could’ve ended up in a much worse situation. He treated you with respect, never let you open a door on your own if he was around, always had a protective hand rested in the small of your back, and… the sex was great.

Perhaps the thing you appreciated the most, was that he didn’t expect you to become the housewife you had feared you would be reduced to. You were your father’s only child, meaning when he died, you would become leader of his gang. You were a gangster the same way Tommy was and he seemed to realize that and respect it. You helped out with the daily runnings of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the daily runnings of your father’s gang at the same time. They both recognized your potential and weren’t afraid to use it.

It wasn’t until you were sitting in a family meeting about a year after your marriage that you realized you had grown to feel more than just okay with the marriage.

Tommy was a closed off individual and through the entire year you had been married, you felt like you were just starting to finally get to know the real him. You never pried because he never pried in your life. If you had general questions, neither of you were afraid to ask them, but anything more was left up for the person to tell. You had more questions than answers still, specifically about the matching scars on his cheeks, but you didn’t dare ask. He hadn’t asked about the scar that ran from your right shoulder blade down to your spine, so you didn’t ask about his scars.

It was a common occurrence for Esme, Ada, and Polly to sit with you at one of the desks in the betting shop, whispering things to you during family meetings to fill in any gaps and answer any questions you may have had.

“Alfie has informed me that the Sicilians are being provided aid by Sabini, in the form of cars and housing,” Tommy started, causing Arthur to let out a loud groan of frustration.

Before you could get dragged into hearing any more of it, you turned your head to Esme who was sitting next to you.

“Sabini’s a prick, I know that, but what has he done to us?” You asked quietly, your eyes still flickering back-and-forth between Tommy and the rest of his family as they spoke about what to do next.

Esme began explaining exactly what Sabini had done. How he and five other men came after Tommy in the dark of night, how he’d ripped out a tooth, sliced his cheeks, and beat him to an inch of his life.

The rage that settled inside of you was your first hint that you had grown to genuinely care for Tommy as more than just a friend and (amazing) fuck buddy. Your jaw remained clenched and set for the rest of the meeting, but as soon as the meeting was called to end, you wiped the look from your face and forced a calm expression to take over.

You stood up and walked over to Tommy, forcing a small smile to your lips,

“I’m not really feeling all that well. You go with your brothers for a drink, I’m just going to head back home, okay?” You said, meeting his eyes so he wouldn’t have a reason to not believe you.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to look for any sign you were lying. You had been fine that morning and fine two hours prior when you sat down for the meeting, but he had no reason to believe you were lying so he simply nodded, placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer to him, and kissed your forehead.

“I won’t be out long. Ask Frances for anything you need, okay, love?”

You nodded and the forced smile turned to a genuine one,

“I will, promise,” you told him before stepping away from him and waving goodbye to the rest of the family.

Yes. You had truly gotten lucky when it came to who you had been forced to marry.

The entire ride back to the Arrow House, you were silent and going over your plan in your head. You knew you’d have to earn Tommy’s trust back after this, but you didn’t particularly care. You were a force of nature on your best day. You were lethal when you were angry.

Once you arrived back, you immediately headed upstairs to yours and Tommy’s shared room. The marriage may have started off with the two of you in separate rooms, “I’m called the devil, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sort of monster. You can sleep in your own room until you’re comfortable sharing a bed,” but it didn’t take more than a couple weeks for you to eventually join him in bed.

Damn those blue eyes, full lips, and that jawline.

You grabbed a small bag and threw the first set of clothes you laid hands on into it, then, much more carefully, a dress. You grabbed everything else you needed and headed to Tommy’s office next.

I’ll be back soon. I’m sorry for lying, but I’ll be back.

You signed the note and left it in the center of his desk where you knew he would see it, held down by his ashtray.

As quickly as you had entered the house, you left it, getting right back into the car with the driver Tommy had employed for you. You told him the name of a hotel in London that you knew was just outside of anyone’s territory.

The drive seemed to pass by too quickly and soon you were saying goodbye to the driver and sending him home for the night. It was barely 7 in the evening when you got up to your room.

“If there is a God, please let me get through this. I’ll make it up to you… somehow,” you said quietly.

The beading on the dress swayed loudly around your body as you pulled the dress on. The pins in your hair seemed to be extra noticeable against your scalp. The straps on your shoes pressed into your skin more than usual. The blade held against your thigh and hidden by your dress seemed to refuse to warm up. Your left hand felt entirely too light with your ring missing.

You knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you. You’d worn this outfit before and it had always turned heads, which is exactly what you wanted.

You needed Sabini to notice you.

You greeted the cab driver politely as you stepped in and ignored the way his eyes seemed to follow you a bit too closely.

The doors of the club were held open for you and you made your way to the bar and took a seat, knowing you were just playing a waiting game now.

You could feel eyes on you. The wife of Thomas Shelby in Sabini’s club, hours away from Birmingham, far out of Peaky Blinders territory or her father’s territory. You stuck out like a sore thumb, even if you would have blended in during any other scenario.

It felt like an eternity passed before you finally saw the man that made your blood boil, but one glance at the clock above the bar told you it hadn’t even been an hour.

“You seem lost. I thought we had made it clear that your kind weren’t welcomed here,” Sabini said once he was in front of you.

A charming smile graced your lips and you looked up at him,

“My kind?” You questioned, playing innocent.

“Yes. Your kind. You’re the wife of Thomas Shelby and I don’t appreciate him ignoring the last warning I gave him and sending you-“

“I wasn’t sent here,” you stopped him, lifting your left hand and pushing a piece of hair that hadn’t fallen back behind your ear, “and I’m not really a Shelby or a Blinder, am I?”

His eyes were drawn to your hand and noticed the lack of a ring you wore and he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Is that so? I was under the impression the two of you were lovebirds.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your lips and looked away, trying to come off as shy. When you looked back up to him, you hoped the look on his face meant he was intrigued and believing you.

“Perhaps we could talk about it somewhere else… somewhere private?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you did so.

Gods help you. The smirk he gave you made your stomach twist and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face, but patience was something you’d adopted a lot of.

“Allow me to show you to my office then,” he said, offering you a hand which you forced yourself to take.

He guided you through the club and towards the back. Some amount of luck seemed to be on your side as his office was behind the stage and provided some cover for any noise you might make. Even more so as you noticed a window just large enough for you to be able to crawl out of.

Once the door was shut behind you, he sat down behind his desk and motioned for you to take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.

“Trouble in paradise, I take it,” Sabini said as he poured you both a drink.

“It was never paradise to begin with,” you replied, thanking him for the drink and taking a sip.

You had grown used to Tommy’s Irish whiskey and the bourbon he gave you wasn’t nearly as smooth going down.

“Was it not? From what I’ve heard, you two have quite the fairytale. Gang leader’s daughter married off to another gang leader, uniting two empires.”

“That’s not the way I see it,” you lied.

“And how do you see it?”

“A desperate father sold off his daughter to a desperate gang leader in an attempt for the both of them to gain more power and disregarded the woman’s wishes,” you replied simply, shrugging your shoulders.

“And so you’ve come to London for what?” Sabini questioned, wanting to hear you say it.

“Because I think we can help each other, Mr. Sabini,” you said, downing the rest of the bourbon and standing up.

His eyes followed your movements, his eyes trailing up your body before resting on your legs again.

“And how do you think we could help each other?” He asked.

You moved to stand in front of him, placing one leg over the side of his and straddled him, placing your arms around his neck.

“They trust me, Mr. Sabini. They don’t suspect me of anything,” you started. The shiver of disgust that rolled up your spine due to his hands trailing up the back of your thighs was one he apparently took as excitement as he gripped slightly at the backs of them, “I can tell you everything and, in return, I get out of my marriage once they’re all gone.”

“They don’t even realize the ticking time bomb they’ve got in their fingertips, do they?” He asked and a chuckle left your lips as a genuine smirk took over.

“They don’t…” you said, trailing your hands down his chest and then up your thigh, trying to make the move appear seductive. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your knife, “and neither do you, apparently.”

His eyes widened and he realized the trap he had walked into at the same time as you pressed the blade of the knife to his neck.

“I’d say that if you ever threaten my husband or our family again, you’ll regret it, but you won’t be,” you told him, unable to resist pausing for a touch of dramatic effect before adding on, “Never fuck with a Shelby.”

In the next second, you were quickly slicing the knife across his neck and flinching back as his blood coated you.

You knew your next move was morbid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It had been morbid for him and five other men to attack your husband when he was alone. It was morbid for him to rip out his tooth. It had been morbid for him to slice his cheeks. It was just as morbid for you to quickly and quietly clear off his desk, dip your fingers into his blood, and leave a bloodied message across his desk.

Revenge is a scorned Shelby

As soon as the message was written, you grabbed one of the coats from the coat rack and slipped it on, then crawled out of the window. The coat was long enough to cover all of the bloodied mess that was now your dress.

Sabini is dead.

That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you were driven back to the Arrow House. It wasn’t the first time you had killed a man and you knew it wouldn’t be last.

But you hadn’t told anyone about this time. You hadn’t told anyone your plan, where you were going, or why you were doing it. You had also just started a war.

You weren’t surprised to see almost every light in the house still on when you arrived, and you made sure to slip the cab driver a little extra for the long drive.

You hadn’t risked staying in London longer than you needed to. You had gone into your hotel room, grabbed your bag, and promptly left, only taking the time to slip your wedding ring back on when you were in the cab.

When you stepped into the house, Tommy was in the hallway. All he saw as you stepped in the door was you, in another man’s coat, your wedding ring still on your finger, but your hair and makeup done much differently than it had been you had left.

You stayed silent as you stared at him with nervousness written on your face.

He put out his cigarette and quirked an eyebrow at you, a silent prompt for you to explain yourself.

Your silent explanation was to undo the tie on the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing your blood stained dress.

“I need a fucking drink for this one,” Tommy grumbled, motioning for you to follow him. He guided you to his office and poured both of you a drink, handed you your glass, then sat down in his office chair. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Do you want the short version or the long version?” You asked, a smirk on your face as he looked up at where you still stood across the room.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle and shrug his shoulders,

“Humor me. Short version first,” he told you.

“About a year ago I got married, and tonight I started a war.”

Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and running a hand over his face, “Long version.”

“About a year ago, I got married. Over the past year my husband has been nothing but a respectful gentleman, making it nearly impossible for me not to fall for him when you combine it with his fucking blue eyes that could bring the devil to his knees,” you started, feeling the hint of a blush creep into your cheeks, which you knew he noticed by the way his eyes flicked to your cheeks and then back to your eyes, “then today we had a meeting with his family where he mentioned Sabini. When I asked, his sister-in-law told me about what Sabini had done to him. About how my husband had been beaten to an inch of his life and brutalized, leaving him permanently scarred, and I knew I had to make the bastard pay.

“So, I lied to my husband and said I didn’t feel well. I went home, packed a bag, left him a note saying I’d be back, and went to London. I rented a hotel room where I changed into a fancy dress and did my hair and makeup, then I wrapped a knife to my thigh and slid my wedding ring into my bag and went to The Eden Club. News of a Shelby woman spread quickly and Sabini showed up to question me within an hour. I lied to Sabini, told him that I didn’t want to be a Shelby and that I had never wanted to be one. He took me back to his office and I sat on his lap and made him think I was about to cheat on my husband when I slit his throat and made sure he knew it was because of what he’d done to my husband. I left a message on his desk, went back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, and then headed back to our house.”

Silence filled the room for a long moment as Tommy stared at you. His eyes were unreadable as he watched you.

“What did the message say?” He suddenly asked.

“Revenge is a scorned Shelby.”

“Nothing about the Peaky Blinders?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t Peaky business,” you answered confidently, watching him just as closely as he watched you as he stood from his chair and came to stand in front of you.

“Was it not?” He questioned, taking the untouched glass of whiskey from your hand and setting it on the desk before turning back to stare you down.

“No. It was Shelby business, but not Peaky business.”

“Explain.”

“He didn’t just harm a Peaky Blinder. He harmed a Shelby, my Shelby.” Your gaze was unwavering as you held eye contact with him. You wanted him to know you meant your words. He was yours, and the protective touches on your back when you were in public and the way he intimidated and glared at any man who tried approaching you was all the proof you needed to know that you were his.

“So I’m your Shelby?” He asked as he took a step towards you and continued to do so until you pressed against the office door.

“Yes.”

“And that means you’re mine?” He questioned, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of your head.

You could feel that you were walking into some sort of trap, but you didn’t have a way out of it right now. All you could do was be honest.

“Yes.”

“Then you should know something about what it means to be mine.”

“What’s that?” You asked, your breathing getting shorter as he lowered his face so it was level with yours.

In a second his hands were on your waist and he had you picked up against the wall with legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

“My Shelby is to never come home wearing another man’s coat again,” he said, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You don’t know what reaction you had expected from him, but being pinned to his office door and him kissing you hadn’t been one you had thought of. Your shock wore off after half a second and you returned the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.

“You’re not mad?” You asked against his lips.

“At you starting a war?” He questioned, leaning down and beginning to trail kisses hastily down your neck.

“Yes,” you replied, leaning your head back to give him more access.

“Livid,” he said with no hint of joking in his voice.

“This is quite the punishment,” you replied sarcastically. A moan fell from your lips as he nipped at your pulse point.

“Oh, I’m livid,” he said, looking up at you, “but also extremely turned on at the thought of my wife slicing a man’s throat over me and coming home still covered in his blood.”

You weren’t given a chance to respond before he was kissing you again. Your hands came down to his tie, pulling it loose before starting to work at the buttons of his waistcoat.

He didn’t bother setting you down, only turned the two of you around and walked you over to the couch in the office. He laid you down on it and then pulled the waistcoat off before leaning back down between your legs and kissing you again once. His lips started trailing down your neck again while your hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he teased as nipped at your skin again.

“You’re the one who pinned me to the door after I revealed I killed a man for you,” you replied in the same teasing tone as him. You undid the last button of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders, his undershirt following a second later.

He reached his hand to the side of your dress and unzipped it, pulling the fabric down your body while his hands grabbed hold of your underwear, stockings, and garters in the same move and pulled them off, leaving you completely naked underneath him.

He stared and looked over your body a moment longer before running his hands up your thighs and giving a gentle tap to your thigh,

“Up,” he said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

You did as told though and sat up, leaving him enough room to lay on his back and pull you up to straddle him,

“Was killing a man not enough work?” You teased, not actually minding if he was going to have you ride him. At least it meant you wouldn’t be subjected to him teasing you when all you really wanted was for him to fuck you.

“That’s cute,” he said sarcastically, gripping your thighs and attempting to pull you further up his torso, “that’s not where you’re sitting tonight.”

The man was no stranger at using his mouth to make you see stars, but you’d never ridden his face before. You looked at him, the question obvious on your face.

“Seriously?” You asked even though you knew by his face that he was.

“Seriously. You were enough of a leader to go after Sabini, you’re enough of a leader to sit on my face. Up,” he repeated again while his grip on your thighs tried pulling you forward.

You did as you were told this time, shuffling forward until you were straddling his face. You weren’t given a choice of when to sit as his hands came to your hips and pulled you down, forcing your full weight onto his waiting mouth.

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Thomas’ ability to use his tongue and lips in more than just outsmarting his enemies.

His tongue trailed through your lips, his hands keeping your hips in place, while his tongue slowly explored you at first.

It had only taken a couple weeks for you to crack and make the first move on Tommy, joining him in bed one night when you’d decided you could trust him, and you’d been insatiable and addicted to him ever since, though he never complained. He’d spent the first couple times figuring out every move that made you tick and every name that made your cheeks flush and used them to his advantage at every turn.

His tongue was a gift with the way he knew exactly how to use it. He dragged it up and down between your folds, drinking in every bit of your arousal before focusing on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and long drags.

Tommy’s hands on your hips began guiding them, silently instructing you to take control. You didn’t hesitate in going along with what he wanted you to do and began rocking your hips. One of your hands trailed to his hair while your other went to lay on top of one his that gripped your hip. You hadn’t realized the volume of your moans until you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit.

Your hips jerked at the added stimulation and he hummed against you purposefully, his eyes never leaving you as your hips sped up, chasing your own high. Within moments you could feel it approaching and your grip on his hair and hand tightened, moans of his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.

“Please, fuck,” you cried, whimpers falling from your lips, “Tommy, Tommy…”

Your high crashed over you a moment later and you felt Tommy’s movements begin to slow down as you rode out your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.

You went to move off of him, but his grip on your hips tightened at the same time that his tongue started speeding up again.

Your moans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation and you squirmed against him, but he didn’t let up. Your hips jerked as you tried moving away from him, but all it did was add to the stimulation.

You could practically feel him smirking underneath you as he continued on, watching as your eyes clenched shut and you relented yourself to letting him torture you so beautifully.

If it wasn’t for the way your body was on edge from not being given any type of break after your first orgasm, you might have felt slightly ashamed at the way he was able to bring you to your second orgasm so quickly.

And then your third.

Tears were freely falling from your face when he finally slowed his movements to a stop and helped you to lay down on your back.

He trailed soft and slow kisses along your thighs and stomach to help bring you back down to earth. When his lips reconnected with yours, you returned the kiss, letting your eyes fall shut at the surprisingly tender moment.

“Next time you want to start a war, at least let me know your plans,” he said, causing you to open your eyes and be met with a smirk dancing across his lips, “and don’t doubt my punishments.”

You could’ve smacked the smirk off his face if it wasn’t for the fact he had turned your entire body into mush.

“Think you can be a good girl and handle one more?” He asked.

Your cheeks flushed at the praise and his hands moved to his belt and pants, pulling them off after you nodded your confirmation.

Once the rest of his clothes had been removed, he gently lifted your legs and positioned himself between them. He was gentle as he pushed inside you, but the smirk on his face from the way your voice cracked when you moaned was obvious.

The stretch was familiar at this point, but it didn’t mean you didn’t need the moment he gave you to adjust. When you nodded your head, he started moving.

Tommy knew your body like he knew his own after your time together. His hips immediately changed position as he started thrusting, making sure to hit the spot inside you that added to the ways your legs shook underneath him.

He leaned down and placed his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips in a kiss right as a moan parted through them. One of his hands came back to cradle the back of your head and his fingers tangled into your hair to keep you close to him.

His other hand went to one of your legs and pulled it up so it rested in the crook of his elbow, causing him to hit even deeper inside you.

The action caused you to let out a high pitched moan and you wrapped your arms around him. Your next moan broke the passionate kiss the two of you had shared while your nails raked down his back.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked, beginning to speed up the movements of his hips.

“Y-you,” you moaned out, your back arching underneath him.

“Say my name. Who do you belong to?” He repeated.

“Thomas Shelby,” you answered and dropped your head back.

“Good girl. You’re my fucking wife,” he moaned out. He sat up, using one hand to keep your leg up in the same position while his other hand went to your already over sensitive clit, “all mine. No other man gets to touch you, look at you, or even fucking think of you. It’s my cock that you’re whimpering over right now, and it’s the only cock you’ll ever be whimpering over again.”

“I’m yours, Tommy,” you repeated, your voice breaking as moan after moan fell from your lips.

“Then cum for me. Be a good Shelby wife and make a fucking mess on my cock just like how you made a mess of this war tonight,” he commanded.

You didn’t need any more encouragement from him as your fourth orgasm hit you, causing your back to arch again and your nails to run down his arms.

His moves start to become more sloppy and his pace sped up as he began to chase his own high, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock only driving him closer to the edge.

“Want to feel you Tommy, please,” you moaned underneath him, “please, cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he swore out. His hips pushing against yours as his high hit him and his arms came down to either side of your head again while he shoved his face into your neck, completely claiming you as his own while his cum filled you.

His hips slowed as he rode out both of your highs and your arms came to wrap around him, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head you could reach.

Once the two of your breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, he moved to push himself up and your legs around his waist tightened along with your arms.

“Don’t. Not yet,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I’m going to crush you, love.” He placed soft kisses along your shoulders between his words as he tried warning you.

“I’m a grown woman. I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you replied and began running your nails softly along the shaved part of his head, knowing the motion worked on him every time.

“Stubborn,” he falsely chided, but relented and relaxed back into your hold.

“Little late to the party if you’ve just worked that out.” Your reply causing both of you to chuckle. “Remind me to start more wars if it means you fuck me like that every time.”

His hand came down and gently slapped your thigh in response while a burst of quiet giggles left your lips.

“Stubborn and a brat,” he teased, sitting up again and carefully sliding out of you.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” you responded with a smirk.

“I don’t think of it that way,” he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you up into his arms.

“How do you think of it?” You asked him as he carried you across the hall and into your shared room.

“I think I’m lucky enough to be married to a woman who killed for me over a years-old attack even though we’d never even said that we loved each other.” He set you down in the middle of the bed before crawling in next to you and pulling you into his chest.

A bright blush rose to your face as he pointed out that you had never even said you loved each other, even though you had admitted to him earlier that you had fallen for him. You didn’t know how to reply immediately and you turned in his arms to look up at him, his arms staying locked around your waist.

He didn’t seem to expect you to reply though, because he leaned in to you, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and sweet, as if he was trying to communicate what your actions had meant to him without having the words to say it.

“I fell for you, too,” he finally admitted, “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that I realized it tonight. The panic I felt to see your note and to see you come home covered in blood. The anger I felt over seeing you another man’s jacket. The way I felt when you revealed what you had done and why…” He trailed off, looking down at you and seeming to try and memorize every part of your face, “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m yours and you’re mine.”

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Blood of My Blood

Summary: Stuck between duty and passion, she is given no choice but to yield to the game Aemond wishes to play | Words: 4.1k~ | Warnings: a lot of talk of illegitimacy, hatefucking, dubcon, incest (character is implied to have strong features), p in v sex, baby trapping, forced marriage

Can be read as a stand-alone or as a part two for The Blood is Rare!

His fingers tightened around her arm, the pressure a mix of anger and possessiveness. He forcefully ushered her across the threshold of the chambers she once called home, back when she resided there alongside the Hightower children. The worn flagstones caused her feet to stumble, while her forearm throbbed with bruises from his grip. She shot him a glance filled with both hurt and fury.

“You cannot treat me like this,” she spat viciously. 

Aemond merely stepped back, his expression unyielding. "You are to be my wife. I'll treat you as I please."

Before she could reach the double doors, they slammed shut, brass fixtures rattling as Aemond hastened to secure her inside. Despite her feeble attempts to push back against the doors, her fists bruised from the effort, he locked her in without hesitation.

“They will come for me!” she screamed in protest, “unlock this, at once!”

Locked within the confines of the chamber, her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and defiance. She paced the room, her mind racing with thoughts of escape and retribution. Outside, the distant echoes of footsteps and murmured voices hinted at the presence of guards or servants, but she knew she couldn't rely on them for help.

King Viserys was dead. And Alicent Hightower planted her son on her mother’s throne.

As the hours dragged on, her frustration grew with each passing moment. She tried every possible means of escape, but the sturdy oak doors remained firmly shut, sealing her fate within the chamber. Her mind raced with thoughts of her family, of the kingdom thrown into turmoil by the sudden death of King Viserys. And now, with Aemond's revelation of his family's plan to anoint Aegon on the morrow, she realised the true extent of the danger she faced.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing outside her prison. The door creaked open, and Aemond stepped into the room, his expression unreadable. She studied his face, and saw he looked slightly withered and tired, covered with a mask of coldness.

"We have much to discuss," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "But first, you must understand the gravity of the situation."

She eyed him warily, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"Aegon will be crowned tomorrow," he explained, his tone solemn. "And my family has plans for us as well."

Her stomach churned with dread as she listened to his words. "What plans?"

"A marriage," he said simply, his gaze unwavering. "In the traditions of our ancestors, to solidify our alliance and secure our place in the new realm."

Her mind reeled at the thought of marrying the man who had imprisoned her against her will. But she knew that in the game of thrones, alliances were forged with marriages as much as with swords.

A tension-laden silence filled the chamber, thick with unspoken words and unyielding resolve. her heart pounded in her chest as she weighed her options, acutely aware of the consequences of her decision. The memory of their clandestine tryst, a moment of forbidden passion she dared not admit she had enjoyed, lingered in the recesses of her mind, adding an unexpected layer of complexity to the situation.

"I will not be your pawn," she said, her voice trembling with defiance. 

A flicker of anger flashed across Aemond's face, but it was quickly replaced by a cold mask of indifference.

"You have no choice," he said icily. "You will marry me, for the good of our families and the realm. Just as Daeron will wed a Baratheon girl, to secure-"

She shook her head stubbornly, her resolve hardening with each passing moment. "I will not be forced into a marriage I do not want."

Aemond's gaze narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "Do not be foolish, mandianna. You have a duty to your family, to the legacy of House Targaryen. You will marry me, and you will bear me heirs to secure our place in history."

But she refused to be swayed by his empty words. "I will not be your broodmare, and I will not be shackled to you for the rest of my days," she declared, her voice trembling with righteous indignation. "Not when you have already taken so much from me."

Aemond's expression darkened, his features contorted with anger. "Do not speak to me of what I have taken," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You gave yourself to me willingly, and now you will suffer the consequences."

She swallowed thickly, her pride blurring the edges of what she knew was the truth.

“He is no King of mine.”

A heavy silence settled over the chamber, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a shroud of defiance. Aemond's eye blazed with fury, his jaw clenched so tightly it seemed as if he might shatter his teeth with the force of his anger. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them palpable. The threat of declaring treason hung heavy.

Finally, Aemond broke the silence, his voice cold and menacing. "You dare to defy me," he hissed, his words dripping with contempt. "You would betray your own blood, your own family, for the sake of your misguided principles?"

She met his gaze head-on, her chin lifted defiantly despite the tremble in her limbs. "I will not betray my mother," she declared, her voice steady despite the fear that gnawed at her insides. "You speak of blood after years of declaring me and my brothers alike your sole distaste.”

Aemond's nostrils flared with barely contained rage at her words, his eye narrowing into a slit as he took a step closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. "Do not presume to lecture me on matters of blood," he seethed, his voice a low growl that reverberated through the chamber. "You may share the blood of House Targaryen, but you lack the fire that defines our lineage."

“Careful, Uncle,” she whispered, her voice tinged with fury, “I am as much Targaryen as you.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Aemond's features, his gaze faltering for a moment before hardening once more into a mask of disdain. "You may share the name, but you lack the strength and resolve to wield it," he sneered, his words like a lash that cut through the air between them. "You are nothing but a weak, insignificant girl who fancies herself a dragon."

Her jaw tightened at Aemond's cutting words, her resolve hardening as she refused to let his insults diminish her spirit. "Strength is not defined by the size of one's flames, Uncle," she retorted, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.

Aemond's lip curled in a mixture of anger and begrudging admiration. Despite himself, he couldn't deny the fire that burned within her, the same fire that had characterised the Targaryen bloodline for generations. "You have spirit, I'll give you that," he conceded, his voice low and grudgingly impressed. "But spirit alone will not save you from the realities of this world."

She held his gaze, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as she felt the tension between them crackle like lightning in the air. Despite their antagonistic exchange, there was an undeniable chemistry that simmered just beneath the surface, a primal attraction that neither of them could ignore.

As if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Aemond took another step closer, his eye darkening with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "You may defy me, niece," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "But deep down, you know that we are bound together by more than just blood and duty."

She felt her throat close up, her body betraying what she wanted him to believe about her. That she recoiled at the mere sight of him. That she could not bear to be within the same quarters. That she hated him.

And all of it was a lie.

She would not have given herself so freely to him in that darkened alcove if she truly loathed him. And yet her pride marred the truth.

“You will be my wife,” Aemond stated, his voice devoid of negotiation. It was a command, wrapped in the certainty of his position, a reflection of the harsh realities of their lineage and the role they played in the ongoing struggle for power.

Her reaction was a mix of defiance and disbelief. This was not the offer of a partner, but the demand of a prince used to being obeyed. Yet, even as the words hung in the air between them, she could not ignore the complex web of emotions that tied her to this man. There was no love in this arrangement, but there was something else—something harder to define.

“You speak of marriage as though it were another battle to be won. I am not spoils of war to be claimed.”

Aemond’s eye, ever so piercing, momentarily hardened, hinting at the turmoil beneath his princely facade. His hand flew out, gripping her jaw as he had done that steamy evening, clutching her skin in his long fingers - a warning.

“Come with me, willingly or not. It is your choice, niece.”

Her eyes locked onto his with a fierceness that could rival any dragon's gaze, attempting to sear his very soul with her stare. Yet, in defiance of the forceful hand upon her jaw, she wrenched herself free, her breathing heavy with indignation. The so-called choice he presented felt like a cruel jest, highlighting the absence of any real agency she possessed.

The machinations of the Greens had cornered her into this union with Aemond, rendering any thought of escape futile from the outset.

Their wedding was a somber affair, marked more by the exchange of solemn vows and cold, resentful looks than any semblance of joy or union. Throughout the ceremony, her thoughts wandered, detached from the grim proceedings. And when the final blessings were about to be pronounced, she turned abruptly, her last vestiges of defiance carrying her away to the solitude of her quarters.

The sense of betrayal that churned within her was overwhelming, a treachery not only to her mother's cause but to herself. The disappointment her family would feel loomed over her, a burden more oppressive than the iron crown could ever be.

Moreover, the realisation that this marriage was orchestrated merely to secure an heir, to bind her bloodline to Aemond's as a political safeguard against total war, was revolting.

Standing alone, she tried to steady her trembling hands by focusing on the wine cup she held, just as Aemond's footsteps halted behind her. She braced herself for an encounter she dreaded, yet his next words took her by surprise.

“I shall bid you goodnight,” he said simply.

She spun around, half-expecting to confront a man prepared to enforce his will regardless of her consent. Instead, she met his gaze and found something unexpected—a reflection of restraint and perhaps a hint of understanding.

In that moment, a complex array of emotions coursed through her, challenging her perceptions and forcing her to acknowledge the intricate layers of their predicament.

“I will not lay with you tonight. You do not wish it.”

Her guard, so meticulously maintained, began to falter at the honesty in his words. "And what of tomorrow?" she asked, a tinge of cynicism threading her question. "When the sun rises, will your sense of duty not dictate our interactions?”

"It likely will," he conceded, the corners of his mouth turning down in a grimace. "But tonight, you've had enough battles to face. I won't add to them."

The silence that fell between them was filled with a tentative understanding, a fragile thread connecting two individuals caught in the crossfire of political machinations and familial obligations.

Yet, she was acutely aware that Aemond was not a mere bystander in the unfolding of these events. And it would be a mistake for him to assume she would quietly acquiesce to their circumstances.

Throughout the following day, Aemond's absence hung over her like a shadow, his presence felt more in his lack than in actuality. The dread of uncertainty twisted in her stomach, her mind conjuring scenarios that left her restless and wide-eyed, staring at the chamber doors until the early hours. The knowledge of her new status as his wife did nothing to ease her apprehension. It only highlighted her vulnerability, the potential for him to assert his marital rights in a way that robbed her of any semblance of control.

Yet, despite her fears, Aemond remained absent, his intentions opaque, leaving her to grapple with the anxiety of anticipation alone. The silence of the night was broken only by the distant, powerful beats of Vhagar's wings, a sound that resonated with ominous foreboding. She watched from her window as the great dragon, with Aemond upon her back, vanished into the stormy clouds that brooded overhead.

When Aemond returned to their chambers, it was not the composed prince who entered but a man storming in, soaked to the bone, his demeanor radiating tight, barely controlled anger. The storm outside mirrored his internal tempest, the rain that clung to him a testament to the chaos that seemed to follow in his wake.

His sudden appearance in the dead of night, the way he moved with a predatory grace, charged the air with a palpable tension. She could see in his expression the fracture of a man who had lost control, his ego bruised by the events that had transpired, a dangerous edge to his anger that made her heart race.

In that moment, the dynamics of their relationship stood on a knife's edge, the events of the night poised to define the course of their future interactions. It was a test of wills, a confrontation between power and vulnerability, where the choices they made could either bridge the gap between them or widen it into an insurmountable chasm.

"Aemond," she began, her voice steady despite the fear that threatened to choke her words. "What has happened?"

He halted mid-pace, turning towards her. The flicker of the candles reflected off his wet face, casting shadows that made his expression all the more inscrutable. "The game has changed," he said through gritted teeth, his voice a low growl.

Her eyes traced his movements, every nerve alight.

“What game?” She dared to ask.

Aemond's gaze was steel, the kind that cut deeper than swords. "The game we're all pawns in—the game for the Iron Throne." His words were heavy, laden with a darkness that seemed to suck the warmth from the room. 

“Aemond, tell me plainly. What have you done.”

Her voice was terse, but it trembled.

There was a hardness in his gaze, a glint of something fierce and unyielding.

"Luke," he finally uttered, his tone laden with a severity that chilled her to the bone.

In that instant, clarity and horror crashed over her like a wave. Luke was gone, his life extinguished in the brutal game of thrones that spared no one, not even the innocent. A gnawing question arose within her: Had her mother been informed, or was she, too, left in the dark until now?

The realisation that Aemond, now her husband, had been responsible for her brother's death sent a shiver of fear down her spine. The man standing before her, cloaked in shadows and rain, was no longer just the prince she had been bound to in a marriage of convenience. He was a killer, capable of extinguishing a life—a life she had cherished. Luke's laughter, his teasing smile, the memories they shared, all extinguished in a moment's violence. And if Luke, then why not her? 

Aemond's demeanour shifted, perhaps sensing the change in her perception. "You fear me now," he stated, not a question but a flat acknowledgement.

She took a cautious step back, her mind racing. The man before her, powerful enough to command dragons and armies, had shown he did not shy away from kinslaying. "I believe I ought to" she countered, her voice a whisper of defiance.

He paused, and in that silence, the harsh reality of their situation seemed to settle around them like a cloak. As Aemond moved closer, intending to assert himself, she couldn't suppress the instinctual urge to retreat. The space between them, filled with the unsaid and the undone, seemed insurmountable.

She could not help the stark whimper that escaped her when his fingers formed a fist in her hair at the back of her head, pulling her unyielding face up to meet his, his angered breath spilling over her face.

“You believe I would harm you.”

How could she not? She thought. He had so often shown a calm, quiet anger. And unleashed it all within a short afternoon, with Luke's body somewhere at the bottom of the sea surrounding Storm’s End.

“You dare to question this when you have murdered my brother,” she spat back at him.

Jaw clenched, Aemond raised his other hand to his eye patch, quickly ripping it off to reveal to her what was beneath it. The angry red scar extended from his forehead to his cheek, jagged, clumsy. And where his eye would have been was raw, a bright sapphire sitting firmly within the socket, forboding.

Of course, she knew what Luke had done, but she had never seen him like this. Fear gripped at her skin, and a strange throbbing between her thighs at the way he looked over her like this. Thought she attempted to now show that on her face.

Her expression must have mirrored poor Luke's mere hours before, as her new husband gazed down at her, his demeanour terrifyingly calm.

“You defend your little bastard brother after how he has maimed me?”

“Aemond, please-” she pleaded, only moving away an inch before her husband tugged her back, tighter.

“Your brother was of no use to this realm. But you,” he spat, one hand tucking up her skirts and then meanly digging at her hips, “I need your sweet little cunt for my heirs, mandianna.”

She felt her mouth go dry, unable to say a thing. She whimpered again when he used his grip on her hair to turn her body around, keeping her back towards his chest, his fingers slipped along her jaw, as if to communicate that he could wrap them around her throat at any moment.

Aemond was sitting on a knife’s edge. And she dare not tilt him in any particular direction. Equally though, she dare not admit to herself that it was exciting in a most forbidden way.

“You are my wife,” he murmured quietly, sliding her small clothes down her thigh, flourishing with gooseflesh, “and who am I to deny her her duty?”

She suppressed a yelp when her hands lay flat on the table, her breasts pressed hard against the oak as she felt Aemond's rapidly growing harness at her backside where he was rucking up her skirts. 

Though she tried to wriggle free of him, one hand at the nape of her neck with undeniable strength was all it took to remind her how much smaller she was than him. How difficult it would be to resist. Does she just go through with it? Let her Uncle, her brother's murderer, take her like a common whore whenever he wishes?

She could envisage no escape, and as ashamed as she was to admit it to herself, she could do nothing but submit. At least there would be some pleasure.

She jolted as his slender fingers parted her folds with a click of her essence coated his digits, dragging his touch from her opening to her overly-sensitive bud.

“See how wet you become for me still,” he murmured, pressing his chest against her back, broad body caging her in, “though I am the greatest sinner in the realm, your body still begs for it, sweet niece. What does that make you?”

“Kepus, please-” 

“A traitor to your own kin?” He whispered, exhaling shakily when he nudged her legs apart an inch and slipped the fat head of his cock between her arousal-glistened folds, disappearing into her without effort.

Her lips parted, a quiet moan slipping past at being split onto his length. And though little time had passed since their first tryst, she still felt the sting and girth of him as if it were.

Aemond groaned deeply, at the feeling of her sucking him in so willingly, her walls greedily tightening around his length.

“Or loyal to your kinslaying husband?” He added huskily.

How was she to respond when the air was incessantly pushed right from her lungs at every snap of his hips? The table legs creaked against the floor and her breasts ached from being pressed down to the oak by the tight grip of his fingers around her nape.

She wanted to say that he was brutalising her, taking what he wanted with no care for her pleasure, but even that wouldn't be true. Aemond's rhythmic grunts came hot against her ear as he rutted into her, his hand kneading the flesh of her buttock in one hand, grasping tightly to allow himself deeper access to her.

She felt as if she was betraying herself, moaning the way she was. And Aemond certainly did not miss a thing.

“Stubborn little cunt - saying you don't want it but I can feel you begging for my seed -”

The mocking tone of his voice had her clench around him, humiliation clawing at her skin the more Aemond speared her onto his length in quick rhythmic movements. Her moisture coated his shaft, his pelvis painting the inside of her thighs with it in the heat of their passion. 

Aemond looked down between them, his fingers leaving red marks on her buttock the more he gripped. Both hands drifted either side, pulling at her supple flesh to watch the way her cunt took him, his lips parted in appreciation of how he disappeared into her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling so boneless that she did not attempt to wiggle away when he was no longer holding her down. Instead her fingers curled over the table for stability in a desperate plea to ground herself from the hot, tight feeling building every time his cock hit her fleshy, wet end.

And just when she was getting used to the feeling, Aemond pulled her hips back to him, elevating her hips and slamming into her at an angle which brushed against that deep, sweet place inside her. 

A tingly, warm sensation fluttered up her spine, “kepus-”

“-fucking say you want it-” he murmured between breaths, pulling her onto him quicker the close the became to completion.

She bit her lip, if anything, using the last bit of her power to not give him the satisfaction of thinking she did in fact want it. So she remained silent, which only made his thrusts more aggressive and assertive.

“-I’ll give you my seed, watch you grow fat with child - and just when you think it's over, I'll fuck another one into you-”

Her nails dug into the oak, scraping painfully, lips parted in a soundless scream as she felt that wave of warmth and bliss crest, unable to control the way she fluttered around him.

Aemond strained, words caught tightly in his throat as he spilled inside of her, pulling her hips flush to him as if to mold himself to her irreparably. She shamefully felt herself tremble, her release still sending dull shockwaves through her blood as Aemond remained seated firmly within her.

She thought of her family. And how they would come to hate her for what she had become, allowing the man who had killed her brother to take her like this. She surely thought they would no longer see her the same with Aemond's child in her belly and tied to him by marriage. 

Tears threatened at her eyes, two feelings at war with one another, shame and pleasure.

She whimpered when Aemond pulled his softening cock from her, a rush of warm spend spilling down her thigh in a way that only exacerbated her humiliation.

“You will write to your mother and tell her of your loyalties.”

Aemond spoke so coldly in between soft pants, it was as if he was hardly the man she had known a few moments ago. It has always been like this. But in a way, it is what made him exciting. Unpredictability was as much exhilarating as it was terrifying.

A notion she held to as she glanced at him, his good eye hooded and blown wide and black with lust and the sapphire glinting in the orange glow of the room as if bloodthirsty.

The game had to be played. And if this was the way Aemond wanted to do it, then so be it.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

[xmalereader]

• Miles Morales E42 •

Feel free to ask for headcanons and checking out the BlackCat tag for more along with the Main Masterlist!

Ask made by: @yourfavprettyboy - Do you think black cat would also claim e42 miles as his child as well?

100% yes.

Noir created a very deep bond with Miles on Earth-1016 when he was in hiding from Miguel. The man treated Miles like his own kid even if he already had parents who loved him. Noir was more of the parent who looked out for their kid when saving the city, knowing the dangerous that it brings and teaching the kid new things along the way.

Everyone already knew that his Miles wasn’t suppose to be Spider-Man and that the spider that bit him belonged to another universe, but even after the change the universe always found ways to keep things balanced out. Yes, they lost a spider in Miles world, but he was there to continue on his work and with the help of a thief.

During their time with Miguel, Noir had forced both adult and kid to spend time with each other if they ever planned to get along. Miguel would say that he isn’t good with kids, even though that was a complete lie. He was a family man and with the time he spent with Miles he grew to like the kid and grow protective of him at times too.

It wasn’t until an incident happened during a mission, both Noir and Miles were in the process of capturing an anomaly when a portal opened up just below him, sucking him in while another anomaly came out, closing above him and leaving Miles on his own to deal with the mess.

Resulting in Noir appearing on Earth 42 where he meets a different version of Miles. A less sweeter kid and a more broken one. When Noir first met the prowler he figured he was going against Miles deceased uncle only to be proven wrong when he’s captured by the prowler and is revealed to be none other than Miles.

But it wasn’t his Miles.

His Miles didn’t have eyes full of hate and sorrow.

At first Miles E42 wouldn’t pay him any mind, perhaps a threat here and there and telling him to stay away, but Noir wouldn’t listen and would follow the kid everywhere. It’s not like he had anywhere else to go, he was stuck here until Miguel finds a way to get him back home.

E42 Miles had his own struggles, with being the cities vigilante and with his mother working extra shifts at the hospital in order to maintain the both in a corrupt city. Noir knew that it was wrong of him to go back to his old ways, but the thought of seeing this Miles suffering made him want to do something.

So, he started stealing again.

With the time he had in the city he was quick to adjust, knowing who was rich enough to steal from and taking their most valuable stuff from them. He’d used the items he took and pawned them into cash giving the money to Rio and Miles in order to afford a roof over their heads. At first Miles E42 wasn’t too fond of Noir doing this for them, still not trusting the thief.

Noir didn’t care of the kid didn’t trust him, he simply wanted to see the kids mother and him have a stable life on this universe. There were still times that noir would follow the kid around the city, watching him fight crime and deal with the sinister six on his own.

Noir had actually stepped into one of the fights when he found out how close they were to killing the kid. He was able to get Miles away from the situation before it got worse, only it didn’t result into either of them getting hurt, but it did result into them arguing.

“I’m not him!”

E42 Miles had said that to him once, reminding Noir that he wasn’t his Miles and that he didn’t need his help or parental treatment. No matter how hard Noir wants to accept the fact that this is not his Miles, he can’t help but to continue watching over the kid.

His or not.

He cared for him.

Their relationship is rocky and with the time he had left on E42 he wasn’t able to bond with the kid personally. Yes, he’s saved the kids life multiple times and yes he’s gotten back to stealing again in order to help maintain the kids family. But no matter how hard he tried to get the kid to like him it always turned out to be in failure, but he never gave up.

[starogeorgina]

Children of the dragon

Warnings: Incest, sexual content

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen × Targ reader, Minor Aemond Targaryen × Targ reader

1.02

You stare at your mother, completely speechless, and your cheek now feels raw and warm. It wouldn’t be surprising if a mark appears, the evidence of your argument lasting for days.

“And in what situation will Aegon or Aemond be forced to choose between me and the rest of the family?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. The wildest thing you had ever done was wear men’s clothing and follow Aegon to the street of silk. Of course he noticed and found it rather amusing. Aegon let you taste the wine he had bought, then escorted you back to your bedchamber doors. When the queen found out, she screamed at you until her face turned bright red and has treated you differently ever since.

Sighing, you look down at the ground and notice how dirty the bottom of your wedding dress is from dragging along the ground. The smell of sweat and dragon clinging to it. “It was selfish of me to leave. I will apologise to Aemond.”

“Your husband,” she corrects. “Make your apologies then—start behaving like a wife.”

“Yes, your grace,” you say before turning to leave. You walk away from her feeling a heaviness weighing in your chest; you were dreading what was to come next.

—

You pace back and forth in your material bedchamber waiting on Aemond to appear. You doubted you would spend many nights together—at least you hoped not. The maester would be able to work out when you were most likely to conceive depending on your moon blood, and you doubted Aemond would wish to sleep with you outside of that schedule.

Before coming to this room, you returned to your own chambers to bathe. The ladies assigned to you scrubbed your skin until it was red and then applied a flowery smelling oil on top of it.

The door finally opens, and Aemond steps inside, his mood hard to read as always.

“Aemond,” You clap your hands together as you stand in front of him. “I’m sorry for my unladylike and unkind actions tonight.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” he says while removing his eye patch. “This marriage is about upholding duty and nothing more.”

“You sound like the queen.”

He shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the back of a chair. “Because it’s true. We had already suspected you or Aegon may pull a stunt like this, as she and I both know how childish you can be.”

His words feel like another slap in the face, but then again he wasn’t entirely wrong. Not knowing what else to say, you slowly shrug the robe, keeping the chill off your body from your shoulders. The coldness causes your nipples to harden and press against the silky fabric covering them. Aemond’s gaze falls to your breasts, his lips part ever so slightly.

“Wait,” he catches your wrist just as you go to remove your nightgown. “You don’t need to remove the rest of your nightwear for this.”

“How often will we need to do this?”

“Enough to make a babe,” he quips. “Neither of us want this, but it is our duty.”

The thought of having children petrified you; it wasn’t Aemond himself that scared you, but not knowing what type of father he would turn into did. Would he ignore your children? Play favourites like your parents did? Use them as pawns in a political game? You wanted to have a child with a man who loved you and them beyond duty.

The room is tense as you make your way towards the bed silently and lie down on your back. You cringe watching as Aemond unties his trousers and pulls them low enough that his cock is out; it was surprising to see how hard he was already. He fists himself in his hand while approaching you. In a twisted way, it made you feel slightly better knowing that he didn’t really want this either.

Aemond kneels on the bed, then pushes the fabric of your dress up to your hips and takes in the sight of your bare cunt. He licks two of his fingers, then uses them to make you a little wetter. He only does this for a few moments, then rubs the head of his cock against your clit, then pushes inside you slowly.

You stare up at the ceiling, fisting the sheets between your fingers, feeling an uncomfortable stinging below. You knew Aemond didn’t want to hurt you, but this was more painful than you imagined it would be.

Noticing a tear falling from the corner of your eye, Aemond kisses your cheek softly. He grunts, “I won’t last much longer.”

Soon his breathing becomes ragged as his thrusts become sloppy; a minute later he spills his seed inside you. When Aemond pulls out, you notice the dark liquid on the top of his cock. Mortified, you push the nightgown back down, trying to hide the shame you felt.

“It’s normal,” he shrugs while putting his cock back into his trousers. “Do you want me to send for your ladies to come?”

“Yes, my handmaiden Tracy.”

He nods, and you pull your knees closer to your chest, trying to process everything that has happened that night.

—

At your request, Tracy had drawn you a bath in your own bedchamber first thing and was now braiding your damp hair while the warm water comforted you.

“Your tea is getting cold, princess.”

“It will be fine,” you say softly.

She clears her throat. “I can have more brought up, princess.”

“No, that one will be at perfect drinking temperature.” You smile at her; Tracy looked younger than the other handmaids and had a sweet smile, dark raven hair, and striking blue eyes. “When it is just us, you can call me by my first name.”

She nods, smiling. The fruit tea would no doubt be lukewarm by now, but you imagined it would taste better than the moon tea your mother drank recently. The smell of it alone was enough to turn your stomach. You almost drank it yourself by accident while waiting in the queen's quarters after mistaking it for regular tea in a strange cup. It wasn’t until your mother screamed for you to stop that you figured out what it was.

Putting your head back, you try to relax. You had yet to see anyone else aside from Tracy or the handmaiden who brought you some oats and berries, but your appetite was nonexistent, so she left quickly. Hearing a clunking noise, you sit up and look over at the large, thick green curtains that hang at the doorway to the balcony. Butterflies begin to dance inside your stomach.

Leaning back, you say, “Tracy, you may finish for now.”

She looks at you hesitantly.

“I insist; I’m not planning on leaving here anytime soon.”

Smiling, she nods. When Tracy closes the door behind her, you lean back into warm water, covering most of your body. You close your eyes and listen to the soft sound of the curtain flapping, followed by footsteps.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “What do you call someone who spies on naked women as they bathe?”

The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor pierces the room. Frowning, you open your eyes as Aegon sits down beside the tub. He seems completely unfazed by the fact you are completely nude. He pouts, “I wasn’t spying.”

“Pervert.”

Tutting, his finger skims across the steaming water. “I was just wondering how your bedding went; more enjoyable than the actual wedding, I hope.” When you don’t answer, you feel the warmth of a hand on your face; Aegon caresses your cheek. “Did he do this?”

You cannot help but smile; the situation is serious, but Aegon’s genuine concern warms your heart. Nobody else saw past him being a drunken fool who indulged himself in all types of sinful pleasures, but there was so much more to him. Aegon cares deeply for Sunfyre and wants to be loved more than anything. Your father often ignored him, your mother criticised him for the smallest thing, and Aemond often teased him for being less book smart than he was. If given the chance, Aegon would show whoever he ends up marrying nothing but love.

“It wasn’t Aemond,” you sink your head lower into the water. “The queen wasn’t impressed with my behaviour at my wedding. She was disappointed.”

“As are you, sister. You dreamed about marrying someone who sings songs about fighting and dying for love.”

“Don’t you? Isn't that why you begged the queen to let us get married?”

It was always just expected that you and Aegon would be betrothed, and it didn’t bother. Even if he did not love you romantically, you would still have plenty of fun together, as you always did.

Aegon swallows thickly; his tired, sunken eyes bore into yours. “My biggest regret was asking for permission; I should have just taken you as my wife the moment you became of age. But now your Aemond’s wife, and I’ll be married to some boring lady from a house I’ve never heard of who—“

You cut him off by clashing your lips against his.

[spotaus]

I really... I have an idea. A scheme, if you will, but it must wait a smidgen longer

Okay! Gonna try abd remember everything because!!! Bangers!!! The whole rb!!!

Night was definitely treated more like a child consistently. Dream, despite being the more childlike of the two, was forced to grow up too fast (kinda gaslit into getting fast-tracked into training and magic too young + sparring ppl far too old for him). Meanwhile Night, who was really doing all the adult things, was still treated largely as lesser by everyone.

Cross crying at recieving the mask probably would've given Night the fright of his life because ??? No one else cried??? Do you not like it??? Are you afraid of cats I'm so sorry??? And. Cross just tugs him in close for a hug!!!! I have to imagine someone found them 20 minutes later after having a quick heart-to-heart where Cross finally speaks his mind, which caused Night to get emotional and start crying too, because they're both huge softies, and Cross finally understands he has a home and family for real. And like, they look like they just finished watching the saddest play of the century or smth.

Hello??? Dream trying on Night's mask??? MY HEART- I kid you not at this part I literally made a little sound because it's just SO GOOD. AUGH. This entire section just hurts so so so good and I love it. I want to make commentary but like... picture a bunch of seagulls going ham on a package of fries. Okay? Yeah the seagulls are me. That's my opinion on that <3 (/pos)

Okay. Uh. The whole Dream having Night I haven't talked about enough- but exactly! You got my drift perfectly, Dream had been trying to show Night all the people who were hurt 'by the Knights' and teach him a new perspective on the kingdom and his 'control'. Of course, Nightmare at this point is under the impression that Killer is either badly hurt, or very dead. (In his absence, they end up putting Dust up as the figurehead until Night is back. They claim he and Killer are busy with important plans. Killer is the one who takes over when Night is sick, so Killer not being there cements it in his head that Dream hurt Killer so bad he can't lead in Night's absence.) So hearing they're planning another attack (ontop of a huge infodump of bad things he didn't even know were happening in his kingdom) he just loses all composure and can't help it. He's so embarrassed, but he'd do anything at this point to make Dream just *stop*.

And it works, and Dream can't calm him until after Dream post-pones the meeting and brings him away from the prying eyes of his group. Only thing is (He realizes after) Dream doesn't risk bringing him into the meetings anymore, so he's blind to what's going on.

You got my jist exactly with how Blue takes the babysitting duty on as a show of trust, too! He's heard nothing but Dream lamenting about how he missed his brother, and dreaded having to inevitably lock him away until they fixed him somehow, and now his brother was back, and small, and not a threat, and clearly (not) just a pawn in some bigger scheme. Dream is positive he can help Night, but since he leads everyone, he really hates to drag Night around when he's still 'recovering' from his 'situation', and he knows his brother is still the same. He hates crowds, he hates being in the limelight. The crying was the last straw, because Dream can't stand to see Night cry, he was always so strong when they were children. So it's a show of trust exactly that Blue is asked to watch over Nightnare. Blue knows how much Night means to Dream, and he wants to help! (Plus, Dream and him like, are never far from eachother's hip, so it doesn't hurt them to let Blue stay behind a bit and get updates later.)

I think that Blue manages to get to know Night in this time, just a little bit. Enough to understand why Dream adored him so much, at least. Nightmare is at least usually stationary when he's with Blue, and Dream gave him plenty of books to occupy himself with, but eventually Nightmare gets anxious.

I think there's also some growing to do from Night to Dream's perspective. He's been slowly trying to improve the kingdom, but those he does trust for opinions and suggestions have limited knowledge constantly being by his side. Like, he knows about the trouble with the black markets (Dust used to do smuggling) and the poverty on the borders (Horror) and the refugees from Cross' old kingdom, (not sure how deeply entrenched in politics I want this, but I *might* even add a slavery aspect in, because Killer was once like, a 'servant' before he ran away?) But point is, he has no eyes on the ground. There are plenty of things he's heard here that are legitimate problems he never even heard of. Greedy Lords, rampant tax, bandit routes, overflowing prisons, etc. He doesn't hold it against these people that they're rebelling, honestly, because he wasn't helping them. (<- Bro's paranoia made him stop doing that thing where citizens cone complain to the king about their needs.)

So, I think he starts asking Blue. Begrudgingly. But he refuses to budge an inch with Dream, lest his twin think he's giving into the stupid idea to kill his knights. Blue is his best source of info. And while Blue is not technically from the kingdom, he's heard nearly every story, because Dream had heard every story. Night internally steels himself that he *will* get home so he can start working. Not to prove them wrong, but to improve things just like he'd been slowly doing for so long.

So, by the end of things, Blue recognizes that Night is... rational. Definitely brainwashed by the Knights (blue no!!!) But he's rational, and seems to understand that these are problems. Blue reports this back to Dream, saying he thinks there might be hope for him yet.

And I feel like I'm forgetting smth but... yeag I love these sillies.

Mm, New Age au my beloved (I just knocked out like... a lot of stuff I needed to do, so here's a quick post before I get back to it) oh! And @ancha-aus hiiiii :]

I know I focus a lot on Night but like... Dream! Dream is a huge part of the story!! So here's a tease at wtf has been up with Dream since Night ate the apple.

So... Dream! He was exiled, but he wasn't left on his lonesome. Nightmare contacted a neighboring kingdom that they already had a treaty with, and asked for them to watch over the crown prince, as he was no longer "fit to rule". They'd accepted, and Night shipped him off at the earliest convenience.

Of course, Dream had no clue it was for his own good, so naturally, after lamenting to this other kingdom about what had happened, how everything changed, he garnered pity, and then support, when Nightmare confirmed Dream's story through letters. Though, the kingdom couldn't afford a war, so they just had to stand idly by.

Dream only stayed there a few years, because by the time he was about 17, he'd become good friends with a squire: Blue. Blue worked around the castle, doing all sorts of tasks for the knight training him, but despite his exceptional skill he remained at the level of Squire due to his age. Blue was very devoted to Dream as his friend and self-proclaimed protector. He looked up to Dream, and was positive he would defeat his brother and take back the throne.

And so, when Dream left on his own to gather experience and followers without endangering this kingdom, Blue followed. Blue was never officially Knighted, but their first night in an Inn, alone on the road, start of their journey, Dream honorarily knighted Blue with his power as a prince. (That's why I refer to Blue as a Knight, even tho no one ever *actually* knighted him and he has no affiliations with any kingdoms.)

Dream was picky with who he recruited and when. He and Blue found a nice little abandoned cottage to start their base of operations, and would travel to recruit people they thought would be of value. Dream wasn't versed in espionage or inner-working over the government, but he knew how to talk to crowds. Sway the people. Plus, feeling emotions helped out too. (I like to think that's something the twins have naturally. Dream's grows with Age, and Night (due to lack of training) only has it when he's corrupted and very little hints when he's young.) So over the course of years, Dream gains more and more support. Like a militia among the neighboring countries as well as in Night's kingdom.

Ink and Cross came together. Ink had been looking for a new job, as he was a mercenary (though his talent was really in the arts) and Cross was a soldier who had left the kingdom a few rivers over that crumbled under a coup. Ink liked Dream's energy right from the start and was completely swayed with the idea of getting a lot of easy work for pay. Meanwhile Cross needed a new hope. Despite leaving a crumbling castle with no hope, Dream seemed to be working towards a better future in this kingdom. Of course he joined him, because that meant he'd live to see an era of peace. (<- of course, Cross finds out this kingdom is actually banger and the current king was slowly working through improving each piece of it, ensuring the whole kingdom could thrive one piece at a time.)

Dream never stopped training, and over the years he lost track of just how different Night was. He lost the script, a bit. His childish mind turning Night's actions all those years ago into a conspiracy. He had an echo-chamber of support, with no outside voice (no Nightmare) to remind him of the truth.

This cottage remains their base, and expands into a small town/camp. Nightmare is taken here when Dream kidnaps him from the castle the first time, too. This place is filled with plants and magic and is thriving. The perfect place to find the golden king.

[blisschi]

• Cold •

Pairing: Diluc x GN! Reader •

Warnings: Major Character Death,,

Notes: Reader is a Knight of Favonius here! c:

"Diluc, look!" Your cheerfull voice rang across the place, instantly alerting the red-haired winery owner. His head turned towards you, gaze followed your finger that pointed on the huge pool of water. "Such large lake.. so much water!"

Diluc frowned, his eyebrows furrowed. It was barely bigger than the one next to Dawn Winery. What's so special about it?

"I can't believe.. it's such a beautifull place.."

"What's so special about it? It's rather common sight-" Diluc couldn't finish the sentence because of your hand suddenly grabbing onto his wrist. Before pulling him towards the water, all you could offer as apologies was your warm smile. Light reflecting in your eyes, visible happiness that made his heart ache. Beautifull - He thought, before getting hit by the realization what you're about to do.

"Wait-- [Y/N]!-"

"Yahoo!"

SPLASH

Your laugh was muffled by the loud splash of water. While you certainly enjoyed so called 'bath in the lake', Diluc looked more upset than usual. Of course, getting wet wasn't something he found entertaining - by cold water on top of that.

"[Y/N]." His voice cold, tone annoyed. He knew that every member of Knights of Favonius were just as childish as possible, but that outgrew his biggest expectations. During moments like that, he seriously wondered if keeping in contact with you was the best choice. "Do you want to be fish in your next lifetime? Perhaps crab would be more fitting?"

His hand grabbed onto the back of your collar, holding your head right above the water. Your eyes widened as you raised your hands in defense, while explaining. "S-sorry, sorry! That's actually really tempting offer, but I see myself as tiger shrimp in my next lifetime!"

Diluc sighed, letting go of you. He closed his eyes and turned away, ready to get out of the water.

"I love water.." He stopped, hearing your voice. Voice full of emotions, especially longing. "I miss those old days.. my friends and I used to play in the lake all the time.."

The male turned his head towards you. His knees still covered by water as his gaze wandered from your face to your hands with which you collected small amout of water. Your smile never left your face as you stared down at your connected hands, the liquid slowly running down the gaps between your fingers.

"Our parents stood near the shore and laughed.. Water brings back the memories about my friends and family.." Your expression reflected into water surface as you slowly lowered your hands. "Even though it's cold.. I still feel the warmth of those days.."

Why.. those days must have passed away?

"[Y/N]" Your thoughts were interrupted by the voice coming from behind. Diluc already walked back towards you, no more caring about the water. "It's true that times have changed, but only if you ask.."

His hand wandered on top of your head, stroking your hair ever so slightly.

"I can become your family at any moment.. Even though you're one of the knights.. and even though you look stupid."

His hand lowered to your cheek, now cupping it gently. Your surprised expression lasted only mese seconds as after a while, you lowered your head and smiled.

"Thank you.."

Diluc raised his eyebrows as his hand returned on top of your head, fingers grabbing onto your head before he shoved you back down into the water. Surely, he was treating you too well lately. You've made him all wet. Don't think you're not going to suffer the consequences.

"How long do you want to stay in the water? You really want to become a fish, don't you?"

Smile appeared on his face as you desperately tried to push him away.

Warmth, you say?

During your next visit at the Dawn Winery, Diluc welcomed you with open arms. Both of you decided to sit outside the building, sipping on some grape juice while discussing on various topics. Diluc seemed rather calm. Little did he know that your visit wasn't in intention for a simple chit-chat.

"How's the situation at the tavern?" You asked, running the tip of your finger over the glass edge. "Is everything going smoothly?"

"Quite good." Short answer, as usual. Noticing your gaze fixated onto the glass, he clicked his tongue. "There's nothing I'd have to handle on my own."

"That's great.." Was the only answer you gave him. Where was the cheerful voice of yours that brightened his day? Where was your excited expression he remembered, while you talked about what's going to come in the nearest future.

Few moments passed, thus silence began to be rather unbearable. With a sigh, red-haired male decided to be the one to break it.

"What's bothering you?"

His question instantly caught your attention as you lost interest in the glass in front of you. It took quite some courage for you to look up into his eyes.

"You heard about the abyss taking one step closer towards achieving their goal? Our outriders spotted them on the east.. Mages.. Heralds.. Amber told me they intend to eliminate most of our forces by threating to attack citizens and forcing us to--"

"Get to the point."

You broke the eyecontact, surely not being able to look him straight in the eyes while saying: "I've been sent to the front line."

His heartbeat stopped, voice stuck in his throat.

What did you say?

Front line?

"Kaeya decided.. to only send mere part of our forces.. That way we can investigate their strenght from the--"

"I refuse."

Your gaze returned to his face after Diluc raised his voice.

"It's an order I cannot-"

"You're too weak."

Your eyes widened. Did he really think of you so poorly? You've taken care of plenty enemies before, proving your strenght in battle.

"It's my duty to obey Captain Kae--"

"Don't." Diluc glared at you. "Mention that name again."

His brother couldn't even take care of himself during evenings spent in the tavern. What kind of Captain was it? Diluc could bet that his orders are nothing, but decisions under the infuence of the moment.

He won't.. lose another person because instead of taking care of things himself - his so called brother wants to play from afar. He's always been like that.. Sending pawns to battle, while getting his hands on the victory they acquire.

"I want to protect those who cannot defend themselves." Serious tone in your voice. Determination in your eyes as you confidently kept to prove your point. "We can not wait for something terrible to happen.. I swore to protect Mondstadt."

He knew you're not going to listen.

Standing up from the table, your head turned away.

"There's surely a reason for Captain to choose me along with the others.. You know I'm strong, Diluc.."

Strenght goes in pair with Defense.

Defense you were lacking.

"Haah.. Haa.." You panted, looking around the battlefield as the only thing you could see, were your defeated colleagues.

Heavily injured, struggling to keep yourself standing..

Out of pity, smile appeared on your face as tears left the corners of your tired eyes.

Diluc was right..

Falling to your knees, as your legs no more could bear the weight of your body.

"I'm sorry.. Diluc..."

-

"Master Diluc..! Everyone is worried.." One of the maids called after the male. "It's pouring yet another day.. You'll get sick if you keep--"

Other maid interrupted, placing a hand on her shoulder. She smiled at the other sadly, shaking her head before glancing as Diluc disappeared into the forest.

He went to the place you found beautiful.

Diluc sat near the water, letting the raindrops freely wash over his head, back and shoulders. Staring down at his reflection in the surface, he scooped up some water and smiled bitterly.

"I don't understand why do you love it so much.. It's wet and disgusting.."

Clenching his teeth, Diluc tried his best to stop tears from leaving his slightly reddened eyes.

"You brat.. I don't feel any warmth..

It's so cold.."

[cordonian-literature]

Forever Mine

chapter 9

❦ summary — The time for Princess Riley to step into her role as queen fast approaches and finding the future king is Cordonia’s top priority. Commander Liam is aware of that, and has plans to make sure the princess ends up with someone suitable.

➺ chapter warnings: implied smut, manipulation, mild language, violence, character death

❦ catch up here!

➺ word count: (+/-) 3020

*all characters belong to Pixelberry, except those unique to my story*

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Hakim paced around the king's office, hands behind his head, sweat down his brow, shirt untucked. Constantine, sitting on the chair of his desk, staring down at the reports of the deaths from this morning, had a similar expression on his face.

"There..." Hakim begins to speak. "There can be no interference in the social season. Whoever did this needs to be removed from the court. Nay, from Cordonia!"

"Hakim, please," says Constantine calmly. From his tone, no one could tell that he was more stressed than Hakim.

"Your Majesty." The diplomat stops pacing and comes to a stand in front of the king's desk, hands flat on the table. "If things with the social season do not go as planned, then I am certain we may have to change course. The people of Cordonia would not be happy if their princess were to marry a foreigner such as Alexander."

Constantine takes a deep breath. "I understand more than some, Hakim."

Silence spreads between them. Hakim crosses his arms and takes a seat in front of the desk, trying to take deep breaths. Trying to think the situation through.

Constantine, on the other side of the table, was furious, though there was a sense of gratefulness in him that Hakim was more in support of his plan now.

Before the king had announced the beginning of the princess' social season, he had told one of his closest friends what he planned to do: he was not going to have just any man marry his daughter, no, he was going to plan this out correctly. Just as he had deemed Godfrey's daughter, Madeleine, fit for his son, Constantine had determined that anyone from his old friend's family would be good enough for his daughter.

Hakim was opposed to it at first, saying it was against his morals and he wouldn't want to force the princess into something like that. But when the social season actually began and both of them realized the nature of the suitors and their backgrounds, Hakim had figured that perhaps Constantine's plan was in the best interest for the princess.

But this... this, Constantine told himself, was just a little hiccup in the plan. He told himself that there was no chance that Michael would become upset or embarrassed over what had happened at the palace. No, he was more upset about the chances of someone hurting him, or Madeleine, or even worse, the princess.

Constantine tells himself that it was truly terrible; such bad luck that one of the victims was close to his daughter.

"How could this happen?" Hakim yells again. "Imagine what could have happened if-"

"Exactly," Constantine interrupts. "Imagine. It did not happen, and so there is no reason to stress about it. In our game, only a few pawns were hurt." He puts a hand on his chest in mock pain, though he could truly care less. "I am deeply saddened that the woman who died was one who treated my daughter as her own, but her death will prove to make us stronger from within. I know we will get to the bottom of this issue. I trust Liam has it all under control."

Constantine leans back in his chair, making himself comfortable again. He motions for Hakim to relax.

"Now," the king begins again. "Have breakfast with me. I promise that before the end of the morning, Liam will have figured everything out. I trust that young man more than I trust my son," Constantine states, finishing his sentence in a laugh.

The servants bring in tea, bread, and berries to serve the king and diplomat for dinner.

Down the hall, Liam watches the servers bringing in and taking out plates, waiting for the right moment to approach his king with his newfound evidence.

The Commander retreats back into his office for a second, where he sees Hana speaking to herself.

Liam clears his throat and she comes to his side. He opens the office doors for her, and they begin their small walk to the king's office.

Hana, watching servers bring the king a grand breakfast, wonders how far Riley's room is from where they stand. She wonders if Riley knows anything about the Commander's doings, considering how close they seem with each other during events.

Before she can form another thought, she is presented to the king.

Liam bows once they enter the room, though not as low as Hana does.

"Your Majesty," he begins, voice laced with the same confidence that Hana noted when Liam had spoken to her. "I believe Lady Hana Lee has given us the answer to last night's mystery."

"Oh?" goes the king after biting into a strawberry.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Hana begins her speech. She knew she'd perfect it and would make no mistakes; she'd been rehearsing before the Commander called her to walk over.

"Last night," she begins the scripted tale, "I was spending some time in the library after dinner. It was a very eventful day and reading helps me calm myself before bed, and I had already finished the books that I brought with me from home, so I wished to read more about Cordonia's history. Though when I was leaving and going back to my room..."

She pauses. Liam looks at her from the corner of his eye, suppressing a smirk. She visibly begins to breath quicker, and her eyes go wide a little. Liam notices how watery they are.

"When I was... retiring to my rooms after visiting the library... I noticed Lord Michael walking away from the servant's chambers. There wasn't any light in the halls, but there was something in his hand. I swear I saw it!"

"Go on," Constantine urges, having put his fork and knife down.

"Your Majesty, I believe..." she pauses again, having difficulty breathing as a singular tear rolls down her eye. "I believe I saw Lord Michael walk into the royal secretary's office! I... I heard shouts afterwards! I know I shouldn't have waited to see what would happen, but I let my curiosity get the best of me. I only heard what had happened this morning from the Commander, just as I was going to him to report what I had seen!"

"I can confirm that everything that Lady Lee said is true," Liam continues on for her. "The security tapes were taken to my team for review so there were no chances of anyone possibly tampering with them. Zoe Zacharias confirmed to me that Lady Lee was telling the truth about her location and Lord Michael's last night at the time of the murders."

"By God," Hakim states, his hand to his mouth, looking between Liam and Constantine.

The king on the other hand, seconds away from choking on the strawberry in his mouth, had his jaw gaping wide open. He swallows the food still in his mouth, then starts on a coughing fit.

"Your Majesty!" Hana cries out, taking a step towards the king's desk, though Liam puts a firm hand on her shoulder and draws her back out the room.

Large, warm hand still on her shoulder, Liam leads Hana past his office and through the corridor of where soldiers were taking reports from other guests. While the Commander nodded at the nobles he passed by, Hana looked straight forward in the direction of where she was being led.

When they reach her rooms, Liam finally lifts his hand from her, allowing Hana to turn around and face him.

"You did well today, Lady Lee," he says to her, wide, charming smile returning to his face so quickly that Hana can't even remember why she was so nervous around him. He seems so proud of her, that Hana does not want the smile to disappear or the moment between them to break.

He reaches for her hand, which she gives to him as though it was second nature, and he kisses her knuckles twice.

"I'm proud of you," he states. "You've done well." And Hana wishes she knew how to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"Thank you, Commander," she replies, silently hoping that he would let her go now.

"In an hour or two I'd like you to go into Princess Riley's room and speak to her, understood?"

Without a second thought, Hana replies, "Yes, Commander."

"Perfect."

***

Hana was counting down the seconds as she walked towards Princess Riley's room, directions given to her by the Commander. Hana had asked him what he wished her to talk about, but Liam merely responded with the demand that she must be his ears in places where he or his guard cannot go.

There was a lot more information about Liam than what he showed people, that was more than clear to Hana. His words that seemed cut off before he could finish his sentence were still perfectly executed that it made Hana feel like she was overthinking it. She told herself that she had no reason to question Cordonian military. If her parents put her faith in them, then so should she.

Hana checked her watch before knocking on Princess Riley's door. There were still 30 seconds left until the time that Liam told her to visit the Princess. She decides to wait, but once she hears footsteps coming down the halls, she knocks, hoping that no one spotted her awkwardly standing in front of the Princess' room.

Seconds later, the handle of the door twists, and Hana faces a tall, red headed woman, Duchess Olivia of Lythikos.

"Good afternoon, Duchess," Hana greets. "Is the princess currently in her rooms?"

"Good afternoon, Lady Lee," Olivia mirrors Hana. "Yes, the princess is here."

Hana expects Olivia to let her into the room, or at least ask her why she was there; Hana had planned her reasoning for the visit.

"Well..." Hana continues, after the Duchess does not continue speaking. "I wished to offer her my condolences. I know that Lady Maria was someone very close to her."

"Alright. The princess says thank you," Olivia states, without even turning to look at Riley, who was trying to motion to Olivia to let Hana into the room.

Before Riley can get out of bed and let Hana into the room herself, Olivia has shut the door in Hana's face.

"Olivia!" Riley exclaims, pushing herself out of bed, then struggling to stand with her tired and sore legs.

"What?" Olivia asked, genuinely confused. "She did what she came to do here, she can go back to her rooms now."

Riley clicked her tongue and limped over to the door. Instead of Olivia helping her, she stared at the princess and rose an eyebrow at the way she was walking. Surely five hours of not walking doesn't cause that?

Once she reaches the door, Riley opens it fully, glad to see that Hana was still there, eyes slightly watery, looking down at her watch.

"Hana!" Riley cries, wrapping her arms around Hana's frame. "It's so glad to see you. I know you've been in Cordonia since the beginning of the season but I haven't had a chance to talk to you in private yet. How are you enjoying your visit so far?"

"It's wonderful, truly," Hana consoles the princess.

Riley removes her arms from around Hana and stands straight, trying not too put too much weight on one leg. "I hope the current circumstances haven't made you too worried?" Riley questions.

Now, Hana is able to notice how dark the circles around Riley's eyes are, how different she looks from yesterday's events. The princess stands in a nightgown, not an inch of fabric free from wrinkles, with the door of her room completely open.

Hana takes a small step towards her, which causes Riley to step back and allow Hana to enter the room. After closing the door, Riley makes her way towards her bed, and pats the spot next to her for Hana to sit. Olivia sits on the stool in front of the vanity, looking at her nails while eyeing Hana.

"I'm not concerned about the safety of myself or my family," Hana begins, heart thundering, taking careful breaks in the middle of her sentences to make sure she said the right words. "I know that the Cordonian military has everything under control. And since Commander Liam is in charge of the situation, I know I have nothing to worry about."

Hana notices the way that Olivia's head comes up to stare at her, and how Riley audibly gulps and looks away, nodding her head.

"Yes..." Riley speaks in a low voice. "The Commander has his ways to make sure everything goes properly."

Hana pauses again, her breath catching. She couldn't figure out what the princess was trying to say, and she didn't like the reaction that Riley and Olivia had when she mentioned Liam. Didn't Riley always seem close to the Commander? There were many rumors about them as well, so unless Riley was uncomfortable with those rumors, Hana couldn't guess why they had such a reaction.

After the silence stretches between them a moment longer, Hana speaks again. "I came to visit you to offer my condolences. Even if they were just servants, I know that it's easy to develop close connections with people who are always around you."

Riley continues to stare down at her lap, nodding her head. "Thank you," the princess says without making eye contact.

A quiet veil covers the room. Even Olivia looks away from her nails and stares at the carpet that covers the floor. Riley does not look up, and Hana notices her hands are shaking. Neither of them try to speak at first, understanding that, even though only one person was feeling the loss, there was a presence in the room that would never show again, but always seemed to remain over their heads, permanently in the room. Hana wondered how many memories were in this room, or spread out the palace overall.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting a private discussion just now?" Hana states in a quiet voice, not wanting to shake the calm waters that settled around them. She put her hand on Riley's shoulder, who finally looks up.

"No, not at all," Riley says with a smile. "We were just talking about some people at court."

"Really?" Hana grins. "Can I ask who?"

Riley looks away again. "I won't say names, but it wasn't a suitor."

Trying to guess what was going on, Hana questions, "Were you talking about some of the ladies? The ones that gossip everyday at breakfast?"

Olivia scoffs, and Riley blushes. "No, no," the princess says. Hana can see that she was rolling thoughts around in her mind. She hopes that the princess will let her in on what they were talking about, otherwise the conversation will become too awkward for Hana to remain in the room.

Finally, Riley continues, and from the corner of her eye Hana can see that Olivia stares open-eyed at the two of them, closely analyzing what the princess was revealing.

"There's this man who I had close relations with. He isn't a suitor, but I know that some of the public has entertained the idea of my marrying him, and after talking with Duchess Olivia, we were speculating that his recent actions with me allude to the fact that he suspects that we will get married."

"And you say that he is not a suitor?" Hana questions, brows furrowed, mind racing, going through all the names of the men at court so she could guess who Princess Riley was talking about.

Riley takes the corner of her blanket and wraps it around herself. "No, he isn't," she says plainly. "So Duchess Olivia suggested that I be straightforward with him."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I let him know that I can't and won't entertain him or further our relationship." Riley lowers her voice and looks back at Hana, gaze so empty that Hana believes Riley's asking for her approval. "I have a duty to my country before I have a duty to anyone else. Besides my father, of course."

Hana, with mixed emotions varying from confusion to concern, holds Riley's hands in her own, letting the blanket fall from the princess' shoulders.

"I think you can do it. It's a true and honest statement for a princess to make, and as long as you're determined and happy with your choices, you'll be able to lead your people as the greatest queen Cordonia nation has seen."

"Thank... you," Riley pushes out. Olivia still stares at the pair of girls, listening to every detail of their conversation. Though Riley had barely interacted with Hana these past few years, she was quick to confide in the old friend. Olivia thinks she should take initiative before Riley reveals too much information.

Standing from the stool, Olivia states, "Riley, you should try having some lunch now. I'm sure His Majesty would like to see you as well. Lady Hana," Olivia nods in her direction, "thank you for visiting."

"Of course, Hana says, embracing Riley quickly and leaving the room.

Though the interaction with the Princess had been heartwarming, and Hana was glad that, even though they hadn't discussed personal matters in almost a decade, Riley barely hesitated to confide in her.

Before she could completely make it down the hall, Hana realized that she would have to report all of this to the Commander. She tried to remember the small details of the conversation she just had.

Though a part of her burned in shame over the fact that she would betray Riley's trust like that, not an ounce of Hana's body could convince her to go against the Commander's orders. If not for the fear of what he would do if she didn't do as told, then for the way he looked at her with pride in his eyes, as if Hana had done some great deed to cure the world, to solve all his problems, causing her to want to be the only person who could make him feel that way.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

a/n: please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the tags :)

@twinkleallnight @gkittylove99 @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @royalromancer @princess-geek @mom2000aggie @claireloutoo @tessa-liam @21-wishes @yourmajesty27 @secretaryunpaid @walkerdrakewalker @lovingchoices14 @destroy-the-cannon

[bloodycassian]

** PT 2 Azriel x reader - enemies to acquaintances PT 2. ** - reader gets a backstory, they clear another enemy camp together and bond more. Azriel apologizes. 

Slight TW for violence/domestic abuse mention. Trying to keep reader as genderless as possible but sometimes I inherently switch to using woman POVs- asks still very open ;)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

"It seems I owe you an apology." Rhys began, pacing at the end of the makeshift bed the healers had set up for you. Your stomach rolled with nerves. His tone was not genuine, and you could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. The healers buzzing nearby suddenly found different things to do.

 Azriel and Cassian stood at the edge of the canopy, the drizzle of rain making their armor shine. "Azriel informed me of your injury- I'm impressed with your bravery." He smiled, his dark eyes making him look like a snake. 

You glanced to the shadowmaster, who nodded the slightest amount. "Did you receive my message from him?" You asked, and when he had a genuine wide grin - showing almost too many teeth - it gave you chills.

"I did in fact. I wish the same to you." He said with that deadly calm. Cassian tried to hide his laugh, Azriel remained stonefaced. "Let's take this to the war tent. Whenever you are...suitable." he glanced to your wing, still stained with crusted dry blood. 

You felt your cheeks heat slightly, and nodded. He strode out from the healers canopy and into the rain without a look back. The generals followed him, Azriel glancing back to you only for a second. 

+

Once you had mustered the strength to get out of the cot, you thanked your healers. They insisted on giving you healing potions before you departed. And tried to get you to promise to come back for a check in daily. Mobility tests, stretches and strength building. You gave them loose affirmations and took the potions without putting up too much of a fight, given that the wing still ached slightly. Two days of rest had done a lot for the healing process, but it would take at least a week before it was fully healed. 

The short walk to the war tent was cold as the mist of rain poured down. Many of the soldiers were inside or drunkenly asleep in the mud. Sitting around and waiting was not an ideal situation with a thousand males ready to fight all around. 

You pushed open the tent, shaking out your jacket on the pelt rug. Earning a scowl from the high lord, seated at the head of the table again. "This one tells me you were a sight to see in the skirmish." He said, gesturing to the shadow master. 

You glanced to Azriel, his face was blank but his cheeks had gone a duskier shade of brown. "But maybe I took that the wrong way, and what he meant was that you were a disaster, considering someone managed to put a hole in to your wing." He laced his fingers together in front of him. You curled your lip at him, ready to tell him to get his ass out there and do it himself then. 

Before you could, Azriel turned to the high lord, opening his mouth to protest but he was quickly silenced by Rhysand's dagger like eyes. The shadowmaster pressed his full lips together tightly. Looked to his feet, as if in shame. It made your head thrum with adrenaline filled rage. Rhysand - the most powerful high lord in history - coudlnt get off his ass to take care of some second class Attors himself? Perfect. Just your luck. Being hired out like the hundreds of your kind before you, only it was worse because you weren’t even getting any gold from it.

"We now have a bigger force than originally planned coming directly at us." He said softly, a dark wind organizing enemy pawns on the table to show where they spread out. how they had your forces stuck against a wall of mountains.

 "Because you were brave enough to somehow miss the group of Attors flying away..." He glared those snake eyes at Azriel again, then Rhys let out a bitter laugh. He was upset, understandably so. You could admit that. But it wasn't your fault he decided not to believe you in the first place. 

You glanced to Azriel. His face was grave as his high lord tore into both of you with a tone of a disappointed parent. Like your parent. The thought of your father made your jaw clench, your teeth grind together as you fought to not begin screaming at Rhysand.

"The two of you will see to it that this is taken care of." He took a breath, gesturing to the pawns on the table. "There is a ravine to the west of here-" His dark gifts had the pawns lifting in the air. A fist of fear clenched your stomach. You had forgotten just HOW powerful he was.

"If you cut off the bridges their advancement will be paralyzed. We then may be able to regroup and massacre our way through this group here-" He pointed to the north, a smaller force lay there. Without the flanking force able to be a threat behind you it would work. Your strategist mind flushed out the plan.

 "I expect you both to fix this - as you both caused this issue. I want it done before dawn comes." The pawns he held in the air turned to dust on the table, making a neat pile before the dark lines that indicated the ravine. Hitting his point home, in a non subtle way you supposed. Arrogant cock of a high lord.

"It will work, Rhys." Cassian said softly. He glanced to Azriel. His eyes were pinned to your wing. Your stomach flipped, you glared at Rhys. Before you could call out his plans' faults - or how terribly he was treating you and your considerable 200 units in his army- you saw Cassian shaking his head slightly at you. He rested a hand on Rhys' shoulder. The gesture stood out. The cocky high lord had a sensitive side, perhaps. Your lip curled at the thought.

As if sensing your disgust with him, Rhysand's lip curled "Now get out." He said, voice low and gravely. Cassian gestured for you and Azriel to follow him out. Rhysand reminded you so much of your own father it made you want to spit. A territorial, abusive cock without enough dignity to spare your family name.

You took a deep breath of cold air, hoping to clear your mind. It did little to shake the tension in your shoulders, or the stiffness in your jaw. Making a mental checklist of the weapons you needed to bring, you noticed Azriel following you. Or seeming to.

The shadow singer stalked past your tent, going to the west where the bridges were. "What are you doing?" You asked, jogging to catch up with him. He was already fording through the tall shrubs and grasses by the time you caught up. 

"Taking care of it. I can fix it myself." He growled. You tried to keep up with him, but the jostling was upsetting your injury. 

You put a hand on his shoulder, "Wait, hey." He shrugged you off, scoffing to himself. "I should have gone alone in the first place. I dont understand why he had to send you." He muttered, stalking deeper into the forest. The rain didn't reach you here, under the darkening shadows and mist.

Rage erupted inside you at his words - and you called out the only thing you could think of that might stop him. If he wanted to fight he could damn well stop and have an actual fight with you. "I guess you are just like all the other Illyrians after all." Your blood rushed in your ears, seeming to dampen the sound of everything. The dull hiss of the rain hitting the trees above was barely audible. 

He stood rigid, wings flaring over his shoulders, growing larger with the shadows writing around them. "Do you even have a clue what real Illyrians would do to you right now if you were talking to them like this? What a normal male would do?" He was close. Too close for comfort. Too close to not be fighting or fucking. 

"Considering my father was a very real Illyrian, yes" He stuttered at that. You'd never seen him do such a thing. It would have been funny if that angry set of his features didnt come back. You were ready for more fighting, more yelling but his face went slack, and his eyes met yours finally. They were no longer the cold dark color like in the tent with Rhysand. They were a hazel that matches the warm colors of pine bark in summer. Your heart clenched at the sight of it.

"You're like the Peacemakers, then." He muttered, referencing the old tales of mighty warriors with mixed breeding. Unfortunately a lot of that breeding was not willing. It usually never was, and it had ruined two generations of Illyrian and Peregyn pairings. "Axios was always my favorite." He smiled at the memory. You bit your lip, remembering the true stories of each hero. Not the bastardized verisons peddled throughout the realm.

The offspring became ostracized and cast out of most communities. On Prythian and on the continent. The ones who survived long enough to become trainable though were given the name Peacemakers for a reason. Known for hired bloodletting, no questions asked. 

"I hope your end is not met like theirs." He seemed to shudder at the thought. All the anger boiled out of you at his concern. 

You felt the shame begin to creep up around you. You had sold your services to make ends meet at times. It always left you with a sickening feeling in your gut after. As if the Mother herself was disappointed. "You can help that not happen." You said softly, voice barely audible. If you weren't so deep into the forest you doubted even his shadows could have heard you. "I need.. I need to find my father." Your voice trembled, he approached you slowly. Like he was approaching a wild animal. 

"It might seem-" He began coaxing, holding a hand out to you. Just like he had the other night. A question, a temptation. 

"I know your pain, shadowsinger." You took his hand, letting him lead you to a fallen tree. The soft moss growing on it was a welcome seat after walking for so long following him into the woods. "He would beat my mother and would pluck her feathers." You were grateful for your mother every second she put into resisting his influence for you. For keeping him at bay until you grew enough to be sent to the Peregryn camps for training. She never revealed your cross breeding, only that you had your wings and could use them well. Only because she had taught you. 

Azriel was quiet for a long moment, his shadows moving slowly like waves around your ankles together. "I'm - sorry.. .about your mother. I didn't know." He whispered, pausing and cursing to himself. "I can help you find him. We can look, but we need to get through those enemy lines first. I need you to help me do that." He grasped your hand lightly, as if asking.

 "Lets slice some attor, I guess." You sniffed, the cold making your nose run. At least, you blamed it on that.

+

The camp was mostly asleep by the time you got there. Under the cover of nightfall you were able to silently end most of the Fae that lurked in the camp. With everything going so smoothly, your heart lurched at the sight of Azriel falling backwards, a calling horn in his hand. His siphons flared, and it shattered. But left his siphons dull. He winced as he rolled out of the winging range of a fellow Illyrian with a flail in one hand and a mace in the other.

"Traitorous bastard." Azriel grappled with the Illyrian commander, but they were evenly matched. They knew all the same moves, sparring and sword wise. You launched yourself through the scattered bodies lining the clearing, dodging over puddles of blood and forgotten weapons. The commander had Azriel in a hold that had his wings flipped outward, and the male took the opportunity. He pressed his boot against Az's back and pulled them backward, bending them father than was natural. You roared, not bothering to waste the time to draw your weapon. 

You barreled into him, Azriels hands still reaching backwards to claw at his hands. He toppled over a stack of bodies, yanking you down with him. You scrambled away from him, hands clambering for any weapon. By the time you turned back around to face him, Azriel had already put him on his knees before you. Bending the males wings back just as he had done to the shadow singer.

Your borrowed blade went through his throat, pinning him to the ground as he kneeled. He looked like a statue in the position.  

You spat on the body. "Dont touch wings, asshole." You muttered. Azriel stared at you, as if in shock. You picked up a better looking sword from the ground nearby, wiping it on the cloth inside of your armor sleeve. "What?" You asked. Azriel seemed stunned silent. He seemed shocked in place. After you were sure there were no rogues readying to flee or informants spying, You took a breath, returning to him where he still stood beside the body of the commander.

You pointed back at the winged body speared to the ground behind him. Smiling, you titled the pose. "A prayer to the mother." His eyes went somehow even wider. 

Then he broke out in laughter. You couldnt help but join him, the high of battle making you both delirious. You laughed at his laugh, the stupid face he made laughing back at you. Laughed at the half spoken words that were cut off by more breathless giggles. 

Your sides ached by the time you both sat around the enemy fire, enjoying their spoils of war from a nearby town. The roasted duck smelled particularly good. Azriel heated a pot of tea over the coals, throwing in fresh pine needles from a tree nearby. 

"You know-" He handed you your cup of tea. It was warm in your palm, but his hands were still somehow hotter than the boiling water. He blew on his cup, the steam not going much farther than what his shadows allowed. They seemed to almost play in it. "I am sorry about your mother. I understand why you regard some of us with such...distaste." He put the lid back on the pot and took it off the fire. He looked so natural doing...normal things. Not just posturing for his court and killing. 

You nodded in thanks, not needing too many words with him. "She fled the week after I was formally invited to train in the Peregryn ranks. He found her, and killed her for leaving him. My court holds no rules against such things. He hasn't suffered for it." Your voice shook at the end. "Yet, that is. This.." You gestured to the battlefield, the bodies behind you. "This is just along the way. Killing him will be my destiny. My retribution for my mother." You sipped your tea, letting the burn of it sink in. You hoped it would warm your insides.

"I miss my mother as well." He said, taking a gingerly sip of his tea. He stretched his wings, you could tell by the hesitant way he folded them back in that they pained him. You made a mental note to give him one of your healing potions when you returned to camp.

You sat in silence with him until that fire burned out, and only dull coals were left.

+

"I'm glad you both seemed to have fun. Is the camp clear?" Cassian hissed, following you to the war tent. You sipped your mead, nodding. "Yes, oh strategic one. The bridges are cut too, courtesy of yours truly." You winked at him, making him stop in his tracks. Azriel patted him on the shoulder without a word, then followed you into the tent where Rhys waited. Wrathful or not, you knew he had no rights to tell you off this time. 

Azriel's hazel eyes met your own as you entered the tent together.

[liquidstar]

something the latest chapter of kaguya-sama made me realize is just how much better all of the characters are doing in their lives now because of their friendships with each other, and i just think thats so sweet.

kaguya herself used to be absolutely miserable and never smile, but then chika made her be her friend and miyuki made her join the student council and over time she became so much more open and happy, you really see just how important all her friends are to her when she’s afraid that she might lose all the pictures of them she’s taken, they absolutely melted this former ice queen’s heart. through the series she gets more and more warm and acts more like a typical happy girl. the ending song for the second season also makes it really obvious that she sees her friends as her happy place, an escape from her terrible home life, she really does love them so much. in the latest chapter she makes it so clear that her friendship with chika is just as important to her as her relationship with miyuki, and that the only reason she didn’t tell her was that she was afraid chika would be mad that she has a new special person in her life, but because chika loves her friend so much she’s nothing but happy to see her finally have more special people in her life too.

and miyuki of course has gotten a lot better when it comes to accepting his flaws and not seeing himself as a failure, he only ever initially drops this facade around chika who becomes sort of like, a mom friend to him, and since a lot of his issues stem from his mom abandoning him its really important for him to see that not everyone will. and later on its much more directly addressed between him and kaguya he becomes much more able to be happy with who he is and not push himself so much or be afraid that people will leave him for not being perfect. not to mention his friendship with ishigami who he actually confides a lot of his issues in, despite the fact that he gets his relationship advice from manga, but the scene of them laying down under the tree and just talking, while very funny, is still a really sweet moment. his relationship with kei is also very big, because thats his sister, but he also sort of fills the role their mother usually would have for her. and though she’s annoyed by it, its really important for her because its implied that when she was with her mom she wasnt exactly treated well, she ran away to be with her father and brother for a reason, and kaguya was the one that actually gave her the strength to do so so it all comes back full circle. 

but chika has her own issues too, she seems like a very simple character, a typical genki girl. but she was a musical prodigy as a child, winning award after award. and yet she was so unhappy with that very ridged life, she had no freedom and all she did was practice. you can see it in her eyes in the flashbacks, despite the praise and trophies her eyes were were so dead and she was so different from the happy carefree chika we know. but then kaguya sort of became the straw that broke the camel’s back that forced her to quit, and it wasnt really out of kindness at first, but their friendship ultimately is what made her become the chika we know, the one who loves to laugh and play, its like she’s making up for lost time and finally getting to be a kid with all her friends. she is very much the gifted child who lost her childhood because of it, but she’s so much happier now. not to mention her friendship with the table-top board game club! its not given as much focus but you can really see her thrive in something she’s truly passionate in now, she loves making games and playing them with her friends!

ishigami’s whole thing can be pretty heavy, its played off as a joke at first but he legitimately is explicitly suicidal, but hes able to get better with the power of friendship. miyuki was very literally portrayed as a light coming into his life when he first enters his room to save him from his isolation. even before that though, miko also helped him, even if he didnt realize it, she was the one that advocated for him not to be held back a year which prompted the student council to look into his case and help him too. he has to get over a lot of his anxieties, at first he’s even afraid of kaguya, but he warms up to her over time too and they develop a pretty sweet relationship with her as his sort of tutor. and very critically, he joins the cheer squad. he actually put himself out there and made “normie” friends and it turns out it wasnt so scary after all. and his crush on tsubame is so important, because she rejects him, but they stay friends. he never once feels like she owes him anything or “friendzoned” him, even if it hurt to be rejected he wanted to be friends. she was really afraid of losing her friend that she loves so much, those feelings of platonic love arent in any way seen as lesser. and she helps him in the end by making sure the school knows that hes actually a nice guy and that means the world to him. theyre still friends and that relationship is important to both of them.

similarly though, ishigami also helped miko before they were even friends without her realizing it. he saw how much she was struggling with the constant bullying and decided to leave her a note to tell her that it gets better, and it was an incredibly important thing that stuck with her for a long time. their entire relationship is defined as “two people who secretly help each other” because theyre both hold such high personal morals that they dont expect good deeds to have to be pointed out or repaid. and then when she ran in the election, miyuki helped her get over her stage fright so people wouldn’t make fun of her anymore, and because he’s such a nice guy he even offered her a seat in the student council where she’d make a bunch of new friends, and despite going through sort of a rough patch she’s still ultimately far more confident than she’s ever been and she’s absolutely ready to become the president next year now, finally achieving her goal. and her relationship with miyuki becomes very sweet as they develop their relationship in the “senpai-kun and kohai-chan” chapters where they just bond as friends, often through her weird emo poetry but he supports her despite being terrified of it. 

hayasaka is one of the most loaded characters in the series despite not being in the student council. the arc that focuses around her is even titled “ai hayasaka’s friends” because they’re what help her out of her situation. since she was a child she was used as a pawn by the shinomiya family, not unlike kaguya herself, and she considers kaguya to be like her precious little sister. but she’s also been manipulated into betraying kaguya by becoming a spy for her abusive family. and the amount of guilt she feels over it is so painful to watch, but she’s too afraid to do anything about it. when kaguya finally finds out, she’s not instantly forgiven, but for the first time in kaguya’s life she wants to forgive someone who betrayed her, and they talk it out, and they can finally become proper friends just like they always both dreamed of. her friendship with miyuki is interesting too, because they have a clash of ideals about not letting your “true self” be seen by people, because they wont love you anymore, and despite miyuki arguing against it, it very much is an idelogy he shared at the time. but when she finally does show her true self she’s loved, and in the valentines chapter she confesses to him, not out of love, but out of friendship. she asks him to be her friend, and her circle of friends just grows from there with all her facaudes dropped.

all of their arcs just play into the greater overall theme of the series, which just comes down to honesty and vulnerability with the people youre close to, the series may be a romance but it places such important emphasis on all its characters relationships and how they can make each other better, its so nice. theyre just friends and they care each other. 

[percabeth4life]

Yes, I know the myths aren’t literal, I am a Hellenist.

The canon of Percy Jackson treats them literally. Which is a bad decision, but it’s a central conceit of the entire franchise so I figured it was something we were both forgiving in this instance.

So. You admit that Hera is cruel in punishing those who transgress on her domain, and yet say that Hera manipulating and using Jason and his loved ones is out of character?

Making the myths literal changes what the Gods are. This is the entire point Of how Rick characterizes them. Taking the myths literally, they would mostly be rapists and sadists.

I know that the Gods are intelligent expressions of the world’s natural forces, I’m a reconstruction dodecatheist. A bit of a new one, in the name of intellectual honesty, but it's been years and I've researches how to properly modernize the traditions.

Unlike you I am not quite rude enough to say you do not understand your Gods, but you do not understand how these fictional stories compare to our Gods.

Zeus transgressed the sacred loyalty of marriage by having Jason, so she used Jason as a central pawn without concern for his welbeing.

If anything, Rick twists the myths to make these the-myths-are-literal Gods more forgivable characters. He writes Apollo as mourning Daphne's fate for her own sake as a person, and regretting his behavior.

Okay anon, this is the last of your asks that I’m answering. I’m hitting block for anymore after this.

EDIT: so turns out you sent three asshole anon comments on top of this one, probably trying to appear like different people disagreeing with me. But I hit block on one of those, making all the ones from that IP address get auto-deleted so :) You look like so much of a bitch rn for doing that. Doubt you can see this since you’re blocked, but good luck <3

It’s fine to have different beliefs, and I encourage it. Hellenism is a widely varied religion.

But I draw the line at you disrespecting me like this. Having your own beliefs is wonderful, but saying that I don’t understand how these compare to our Gods, when I know all too well that they don’t and that’s why I’m complaining is incredibly rude.

His stories are not my Gods, but the fact is that most everyone who doesn’t bother to look things up thinks it is shows just how much he’s shaped the view of the Gods. The number of times I have to point out to people that, no, those aren’t the Gods, no, the myths don’t work like that, no that’s not how it works is ridiculous. My blog is where I combine my beliefs and mt enjoyment of the books and compare and contrast them.

I’ve seen people say that Hera should divorce Zeus, literally mythological Hera and real Hera, and solely because of how Rick shows it. Because they only care about Rick’s views.

Just because you don’t take offense at the way he portrayed them, doesn’t mean I can’t. Don’t you dare try to police my way of interacting with my Gods.

Rick does not take the myths as actual existence, he takes his preferred version, adds to them what he wants, doesn’t research the reality of them, and then makes up more to make things worse.

Hera is cruel mythologically and specifically to Zeus breaking his vows to her. I have actually never once said that her manipulating Jason was out of character, doing a mythological portrayal would have that.

But what is inaccurate is her shoving Nico out of the family tree. It’s her kidnapping people and wiping their memories to use as tools (like say, PERCY). It’s her stepping in years ahead of time and doing basically nothing but being present. It’s her insulting them, ignoring their needs, manipulating their situation, not caring for their family, not caring for her family, dismissing her children, and more.

She aids them when it suits her, not because of their needs. She manipulates all of them, not just the one that directly insulted her.

Her taking offense to Annabeth’s disrespect? yes, accurate. Her anger at Percy? At the rest of the children? The dismissal of pain of others who do things for them?

That is not my Queen.

You came in and said Rick portrayed the Gods accurately. I said you were wrong, and to say so shows a misunderstanding of the myths. I did not say you misunderstood the Gods, that is not my place to say. But the myths? Yes. The way you spoke in your first ask (not to mention the inaccuracy of the myth with Zeus and Hera) read as someone who did not know the myths or their purposes or the Gods as a whole and took Rick’s portrayals as literal.

Also, the way you’re policing my relationship with the Gods and the media depicting them is far more insulting then me pointing out that someone I did not know was a Hellenist was wrong.

And you bring up Apollo? The God I work with more than any other? And dare say Rick made him more likable?

Rick said he was in the wrong for punishing those who broke sacred oaths with him.

Rick said he was in the wrong for punishing the birds who took a job for him then failed it of their own disinterest or care as if those very birds aren’t sacred to him.

Rick made up a myth saying Apollo bullied a God he’s never shown interacting with solely to make him look worse.

So yeah, I don’t agree with you. And while you have a right to your beliefs, I have a right to be angry at how you’re trying to police mine.

[obliviouskind]

Charon Akagi

---

---

I feel I need to preface this post by admitting to this: for a long while, I had no opinions nor takes on Charon as an actual character, nor did I really consider ever delving deeper into him for my own personal world building. He was but a background character that I, admittedly, considered either just… writing out entirely, or to simply replace him with someone nameless, as well as faceless – just to make matters easier for myself. However, since then my opinion has changed.  And I feel it would be fun to share some thoughts about the Sinnoh fandoms greatest punching bag, y’know? I personally find the idea of Charon being a part of Cyrus’s family lineage to be incredibly intriguing, as well as befitting the role that he comes to play within the canonical storyline. (Both the games, and my own.) I’ve decided to fit him in as a second cousin of Cyrus’s father, making him a definite part of the family line – but separated enough to where interaction between his branch and theirs were minimal at best – nonexistent, at worst. That isn’t to say, however, that he was unknown to them all.

Cyrus can recall having seen the man on television long ago, as he was publicly shunned for his immoral research practices and forced to issue an apology to Sinnoh's broader public - only for him to spit into the mic, scream at the top of his lungs and leave the stage with his hands cuffed behind his back.  That they were related, he only learned as he grew older - a disgrace of the Akagi in some regards, Charon was considered; but to Cyrus he had simply seemed like a man who saw the world in a slightly different light.

An ability that, later down the line, became very appealing. The research of Galactic in its early years was done, more often than not, by freelance researchers or hired such scientists - something that took both resources, as well as allowed for far too many hands and eyes to enter domains better left hidden... As one can imagine, it was something that came to be dangerous as time went on as there aren't many who will actually keep quiet about experimenting on beasts or disturbing holy grounds in the pursuit of knowledge. 

Charon however, held no such regard for what was appropriate in the field of science - and Cyrus chose him for that fact.  That he was family only served to make things easier.

(Have a fun basic ‘family tree’ while we are at it, ey?)

However, let’s… Dial it back just a few notches, and sort of talk about my overall idea for Charon as he is, rather than his relation to Cyrus and his cause.

It is strongly suggested within the canonical games that The Old Chateau, situated at the lip of Eterna Forest, just outside of Eterna itself, is the old home of Charon and his family… And this is a theory that I personally have decided to run a mile with. For one; the Akagi have always been an established family within the region for many generations, meaning that they have been able to accumulate generational wealth for quite some time now. The Old Chateau is therefore an old family heirloom of sorts, one of which eventually fell into the hands of Charon’s particular family branch, rather than that of Cyrus’s. I also want to note that within Galactic HQ, there are notes that are suggested to be written by Charon: “… Finally, I came to realize that the Pokémon only wished to be friends. I have decided to name this most wondrous Pokémon 'Rotom.' Simple though it may be, Rotom emerged to me from the motor of a lawn mower. Motor and Rotom... Surely the link is obvious?””

The way I see it is that, not only did Charon encounter Rotom within his old home – he also gave it its name.

(Now, to put it out there: I am indeed aware of the fact that there’s potential, and commonly accepted within the fandom, that these are Cyrus’s notes. But, this is my playhouse, and I already have a vastly different story established for Cyrus’s youth. So, Rotom is in my mind Charon's to claim.)

Next, I want to just… Sort of ramble out a few bullet points, to get some ideas and concepts out there without having to prep them as much as I have the rest:

The Old Chateau is, obviously, abandoned     by the time the events of the game takes place - but given that Charon is     an older gentleman during the     story, I don’t find it all that unreasonable that over, say, 50 years or     so the home has managed to crumble into its current state. 

The reason for its abandonment is due to the fact that Charon’s family no     longer are alive. How or why this came to be the case is a mystery of the region to this day, some suggest food poisoning, some say there was     a car accident. What all of the     theories have in common, however, is the fact that the young son survived it all. 

Surviving     isn’t the same as thriving,     however. Charon was young when     he lost his parents, as well as his younger     sister and though in his fathers will, the home was assigned to be his - a child can’t do much with a home on their own.

Charon became a pawn of the state all throughout his early years. He     was assigned to foster homes, ones who both treated him very well and those who treated him     poorly but where he came to excel in life, was in academics. 

Despite     a rocky home life, the boy advanced his schooling far faster than any other child of his year group - leaving     him to skip several grades at a     time. He thrived in school just     as much as he decayed in his     personal home life. 

Charon has been described by every     foster parent that he has had, as a vile child. He personally has never seen it that     way.

Random trivia: He has two gold teeth.

It was at the age of 18 that he finally was set free     from the endless cycle, never having been adopted into a new home but     feeling better off because of it. Independent,     he made a life for himself on his own terms… And it wasn’t until much, much later in his life that he     returned to his childhood manor once more. In search of memories, perhaps, or maybe he just     wished to have one last look at what was left for him to care for.

He never returned to it after that.

Something that I feel needs to be stressed, as an ending statement is this: I wholeheartedly reject the idea that Charon is a man thats disliked by any of his co-workers, or the overall organization itself (grunts, hunters etc etc..). Some may find him rude or unpleasant, sure – and he is: Mars could lay claim to this. But, anyone that hasn’t work directly with him would not know that part of his personality, nor habits... nor should they really care.   He (within a Platinum, as well as my own, timeline) is the reason that Galactic even managed to do what it was that they did - and he would be nothing but praised for his efforts as they really were the only reason their Messiah even had a shot at reaching Godhood. 

Out of all the commanders, he is the one that stood Cyrus the closest - and he always will be. Family bond or not. 

(He is also the only member of the organization who was (canonically) taken by Interpol… I’ll just let that one sit.)

[terry-perry]

Being Ransom's wife handling the situation of her arrest in any way she can

This came to mind, for some reason. Hope you like it, regardless!

You knew he wasn’t good, right from the start. You weren’t exactly the picture of perfection yourself. You were two forces of destruction that couldn’t possibly work together. But you stayed married, nonetheless. If not for business purposes or to keep from sullying your family names, then for the sake of your sons; the only things in both your lives that meant a damn.

But now that everything had gone to shit, you might as well let everything out in the open. 

Which was why Marta was currently striking you with a perplexed stare. She didn’t know how to take it, poor thing. She didn’t know what to expect when she had decided to come over. Her good nature had gotten the best of her once again, making her want to stop by to offer some form of condolences for breaking your family. Even though Ransom was proven guilty of the whole thing, you and your boys didn’t deserve to see him be taken away from you in handcuffs. 

“They’re not his?” She asked. 

When you shook your head in confirmation, you didn’t think her eyes could get any bigger than they already were. You simply shrugged and went on to discuss it some more as though talking about the weather:

“Thank God for that. Whenever Ransom managed to step away from his party girls and hookers, he’d come home drunk or filled with more coke than a cartel. What woman wants that as the father of her children? During those moments, I was able to finish him off in other ways. By the next day, he doesn’t even remember a thing.”

Something about your demeanor as you told her all this made her blood run cold. The smile you had on looked so out of place, especially with how warm-hearted and friendly it appeared to be. With this disturbing situation, it almost seemed sinister.

“You never loved him, did you?”

It was your turn to give her a bewildered stare at what she had to say. She was now somewhat apprehensive, noticing the way you appeared almost offended.

“I worshipped him,” you expressed to her, feeling a sudden need to defend yourself. “It may not have been love, but he was mine. Every girl I knew dreamed of having that playboy as their own, but my family was the only one with wealth that could rival the Thrombeys.’ That gave me the chance to be pawned off to that handsome devil. To that asshole...”

There was then a moment of concern when you looked a bit forlorn during that last statement. How terrible was he exactly? But that was a question for another day since you perked back up with an assurance for her:

“Don’t worry Marta, no need to feel bad for the poor rich girl. I still have my money. And once my dear in-laws are done begging you to give back what they think they’re entitled to, it won’t be long until they do the same with my family.”

What did you mean by that? Were you planning on cutting ties with the Thrombeys? Planning on ending things with Ransom?

“Do you plan on helping them?” She asked you.

“Do you?”

Like with Blanc, Marta didn’t have much to say about this. You chuckled in amusement, her silence giving you all the answers you needed.

“Well, it was nice talking to you, but I should really go put the kids to bed. Then call up the lawyers. Maybe we can get lunch later this week. Your treat.”

Afterwards, you told her she could see herself out as you walked off to your sons’ rooms. But Marta needed another moment to process everything. While doing so, she wondered if Ransom had truly been the most dangerous member in the family.

[misstrashchan]

Pyre/Greedling Meta:

I remember in the earlier volumes that a fair amount of people in the FNDM would compare Cinder to Lust from Fullmetal Alchemist, due to her femme fatale persona and voice seeming like an impression of Laura Bailey's Lust.

But as we learn more about Cinder and meet Salem in vol4, it's very clear that the version of herself she likes to present herself as is meant to come across as an impression, an imitation. Because she's trying to imitate Salem, the person who defines what power is to her.

And as that facade crumbles and we slowly start to see how deep Cinder's desires really run, it's far more clear to me that her character and story have much more in common with Greed, not Lust.

:read more:

Greed is the only homunculi who is willing to follow his deepest desires to the fullest, regardless of where that placed him. He was certainly willing to do evil, but wouldn't if that evil didn't personally benefit him. And, over time within the series, Greed comes to realise that his obsession with power, glory and seeking to become God, were nothing more than vain attempts to cover up his true emotional emptiness caused by a lack of connecting to others. And once he finds a cause and people to support who help and support him in turn, his character arc finishes with him, Greed, looking on all that he has, his friends, and is grateful. Content.

Which ties into the lesson of the Fall Maiden in the Tale of the Four Maidens in which Fall begs the Hermit to look around at all he has and be thankful. To be satisfied and content with oneself, which is a lesson Cinder has to learn in order to truly become a Fall Maiden.

Greed's desires are similar to Cinder's own ambition for power driven by her fear and insecurities, seeking to become a "godlike maiden badass" wanting to fill the emptiness and craving she feels, not yet realizing that this will not be what brings her true satisfaction to her, well, greed.

"Greed may not be good, but it's not so bad either. You humans think greed is just for money and power! But everyone wants something they don't have"

"You Atlas elites are all the same! You think hoarding power means you'll have it forever. But it just makes the rest of us hungrier! And I refuse to starve"."

I think it's very important to point out that Greed doesn't become good or redeem himself because he sees the error of his ways and wants to atone for the things he's done, rather he starts on the path to redemption by refusing to be a pawn to Father any longer, when realizing the power and glory he craves he wouldn't be able to obtain by staying and working underneath Father like the rest. His greed and dissatisfaction are what motivates him, though it is ultimately Ling who gives him the final push and convinces him to side with the protagonists.

And Cinder at the end of vol7 seems to be heading towards a crossroads of whether or not she'll stay with Salem, given how the Grimm arm that was "gifted" to her by Salem seems to be slowly consuming her body, she might have doubts about whether the kind of power Salem has promised her is really the kind of power she wants, and whether she's prepared to sacrifice herself to obtain it, or whether she could choose to strike out on her own. Again, some villains start on the path to redemption solely out of self interest.

It's also not just Greed's story I think Cinder's is remarkably similar to, but the stories of Ling and Pyrrha and the role they play in Greed and Cinder's stories, as their souls and stories are intrinsically intertwined.

The ouroboros tattoo and its meaning was the first thing that caught my attention, as it the ouroboros symbol represents eternal cyclical renewal. Of life, death and rebirth. And how that aligns with Pyrrha's incantation used to unlock Jaune's aura:

"For it is in passing we achieve immortality. Through this we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee"

Cinder also has a tattoo of her own symbol that appears after connecting to Amber's soul and taking half of her power, just like the ouroboros tattoo appearing after Greed and Ling's souls were intertwined and he had taken over his body. Cinder takes the other half of the maiden powers after Pyrrha had been bound to them as her and Amber's aura were intertwined, making it likely that Pyrrha is a part of Cinder in the same way Greed and Ling are.

Both Pyrrha and Ling are considered to be people in positions of power and prestige with great expectations placed on them that they intend to live up to. Ling as an Xingese prince, Pyrrha as a world renowned champion fighter and promising huntresses, the "invincible girl". Both agree to becoming a maiden/homuculus respectively, despite the inhumane means of doing so and risk to their body, soul and life, as they believe obtaining this power will help their people.

"We can't transfer Amber's power to you but we can give you what those powers are bound to."

"Her aura"

"Her life... would become intertwined with yours. The question is-"

"What's that gonna do to you?" - (RWBY Volume 3 Chapter 6)

Greed and Cinder's stories are body horror stories about what you'll sacrifice for power, and the power they are "gifted" by their masters, Father and Salem, is concentrated in their left arm.

Interestingly, Greed's power that transforms him into an inhuman monster is his "Ultimate Shield" that makes him invulnerable, which is the exact opposite of the "power" that Salem grants Cinder that slowly crawls up her left arm threatening to turn her into a monster makes her more vulnerable than most, because she doesn't have aura to protect those parts of her.

Both Greed and Cinder are the most defiant of their masters wishes, and often Father and Salem experience losses and failures because they underestimated Greed and Cinder's ambition. What should have been an easy win at Haven for Salem failed because Cinder was overly ambitious in her need to to win, to feel powerful, and Greed's betrayal of Father is simply because his own ambition is greater than his, thus he would never be content to work underneath him, to be less than him.

Both are charismatic individuals and good at convincing others to work with them. They like to surround themselves with others and both are the only ones under Father/Salem to have their own subordinates (Wrath doesn't count since it was always Father's intention to have him become Fuhrer). Despite them clearly needing human connection, their relationship with their loyal subordinates we are introduced to alongside them is... Not Super Great. They might care about them to a certain degree, but at the end of the day they ultimately view them as useful tools and possessions.

Both of them speak of an emptiness they feel inside of them:

"All of these souls inside of me, and yet I still feel so... empty"

"It's... an emptiness. It burns. Like a hunger."

It's ultimately Ling thst acts as Greed's consciousness, as when he doesn't show any remorse over killing Bido, the last of the old Greed's followers, on the orders of Father, Ling is the one who drags out all of his repressed emotion, being able to feel his pain and see his memories, he forces Greed to face them and how terribly he treated his "friends", and to reevaluate his priorities and self, pushing him away from Father.

"It's nothing personal. I'm just doing my job. I am sorry, honestly!"

"What have you done, Greed? Are you determined to prove you're a monster? What kind of sick creature... would kill his own friend!?"

"He wasn't my... friend..."

"Then why do you remember him? And are you gonna try and tell me Bido was just making everything up?"

"Those were the last Greed's memories! They're not mine!"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU IN SO MUCH PAIN!?

Pull yourself together, Greed. I'm warning you. I'll take this body back if you drop your guard"

"They aren't mine... Father purified me and purged the old Greed's memories. Those memories aren't a part of me any more!"

"No! You're wrong Greed! It's not that easy! They'll always be a part of you! You can't just erase them from your soul! They were the only part of you that you chose!"

"Look at them! Can you not hear their souls crying out? You abandoned them. Your real family! You threw them away like trash!"

"Fool. If you turned your back on something you wanted, YOU DON'T DESERVE TO CALL YOURSELF GREED!" (Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood episode 44, Greed and Ling)

If Pyrrha were to return, it's likely she would manifest and communicate more directly with Cinder than maiden predecessors usually do (though in all fairness we don't know the details of if maiden predecessors do or not), being more similar to Ozpin and Oscar's situation, rather than just being a part of her soul, because of how unnatural her interference with the fall maiden's power transfer was. The way Ozpin looks and speaks about it makes it clear he knows there is a very good chance he was recreating his own curse the GoL bestowed on him, and that this isn't like when he was the Hermit, giving his magic happily to the Maidens.

There's also the parallels between Ozma and Pyrrha's situations too, and how readily they accept their mission and fate, and in how they die, and I believe we still haven't seen the full payoff to those parallels with Pyrrha.

When Ozma reincarnates the first time, it's implied that he completely overtakes Ozma 2.0/ Oisín/Diggs (why do we have so many names for him), having not yet learned how to live with the souls with which he had been paired. It's not until much, much later when Oz is beginning to have doubts about whether he should stay with Salem , but still continues to go along with her plans that Oisín makes himself known, (and we know Ozma isn't used to him communicating with him with how suprised and shaken he is by this, which is strange considering he's been paired with him for a long while, unless Oisín hadn't made himself known before this) and is the one who finally pushes Ozma to leave Salem.

"What are we doing?"

With Cinder returning to Salem's side, full of doubt of whether she can go through with Salem's plan for her, to hurt and destroy herself for this power, and Emerald and Mecury (probably Neo too) likely betraying and cutting ties with Cinder too, which is going to leave her full of even more doubt, hurt, anger and additional feelings of betrayal and confusion. And more than anything, alone. Which would be the ideal time for Pyrrha to say to Cinder like with Ozma, "What are we doing?" To push her to reevaluate her priorities and self.

Imagine Pyrrha finally being able to manifest or communicate with Cinder, realizing she's bound to the woman who killed her. Knowing her emotions and memories in their entirety, feeling her pain and anger as if it were her own. And Ruby describing her as "Pyrrha thought that if there was even the smallest chance of helping someone that it was a chance worth taking" the Pyrrha who told Jaune "Everyone needs a little help sometimes" understanding what Cinder went through, and that if she couldn't save the world or make it better by attempting to kill Cinder, then, maybe as she is now, the one thing she can do to help save the world, to make it a better place, is by helping Cinder be better, helping her use her talents for good, like a true maiden should? (On a more fun note, imagining Pyrrha deciding to help Cinder but not missing any opportunity to be a playfully snarky little shit towards her. Because what is Cinder gonna do? Kill her again? Like tell me Pyrrha would not Do Both. And Cinder's not sure which she hates more: Pyrrha teasing her or feeling sorry for her)

Another interesting thing is how in The World of RWBY: The Official Companion states that Salem's goal is to possess all four relics, and to absorb the power of all the Maidens, which she means to at some point, absorb Cinder's power. It's likely part of why she favours Cinder and has such an intimate relationship with her (the Relic of Choice might have played a role in why Salem chose Cinder specifically) That transition of maiden powers from Cinder to Salem would be made much more seamless for Salem if she was grooming Cinder to be more like her, and was slowly becoming more Grimm, if she was treating Cinder like an extension of herself, because to Salem, she would be. Which is again, similar to Father and Greed, as Greed literally was an extension of Father created from him, and absorbed back into him when he became too disobedient and remade and reborn again.

The finale of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood has Father absorbing Greed's philosopher's stone in an attempt to claim his power, but Greed ends up sacrificing himself by inverting his Ultimate Shield inside of Father, making his whole body incredibly fragile and vulnerable so Ed is able to defeat him. In the end, Greed ends up being the key to their victory against Father.

I want to make it clear that I don't personally think RWBY will end with Cinder dying or "defeating" Salem. At least, not in the traditional sense. I can draw as many comparisons as I like between Greed and Cinder but at the end of the day they're two different stories with different themes. And I don't believe that kind of ending would align with RWBY's. One of the themes of Cinder's story is to find a way to keep living no matter what. And as for Salem, the only way she can "die" is to learn the value of life and death, which would require a much more different approach.

But either way, I do believe Cinder will end up being their key to victory one way or another, similar to Greed.

[dazed--xx]

Beside you

Request: Hello could I have an arranged marriage with Jungkook with a bit of angst but fluff at the end. Thank you xx

Summary: "You may kiss the bride" The hesitation evident on his face. My heart is racing and reality sets in “um…Jungkook?” He rolls his eyes and places a light kiss on my lips. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers “Just know this will be the last time you ever get to kiss me." 

Genre: ANGST, light fluff, smut

TW: None

Word Count: 5,092

A/N: SO i know you specifically asked for fluff at the end but i dont think this is the end of this i might make a part 2 if part 1 gets enough traction any way. I hope you enjoy the few bits i did do from what you asked REQUESTS ARE OPEN 

edit: REWRITE UPLOADED 10/13/2021

———————————————————————————————————–

““You may kiss the bride” The hesitation evident on his face. My heart is racing and reality sets in “um…Jungkook?” He rolls his eyes and places a light kiss on my lips. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers “Just know this will be the last time you ever get to kiss me.” Tears begin stinging my eyes, as we walk down the aisle as an officially married couple, hand and hand, much to Jungkook’s dismay. We rush through the double doors of the church and disappear in the car placed in the front if the building of worship.   

Once we got in the car Jungkook retracted his hand and the empty feeling takes over again. Jungkook doesn’t love me this is just a business inconvenience to him. IM just some stupid business deal, something for Jungkook to correct as he does with all his other projects, only difference is I’m not some company he can break apart and sell. I’m a person as much as he refuses to accept it. Since our fathers have agreed the only way Jungkook would be able to acquire and run my father’s company is if I become is wife as some type of fail-safe of preventing Jungkook from selling off the company and running away like he’s done so often after his business dealings. 

At the reception Jungkook disappeared as soon as we walked through the door. To the bar as expected of him to drink as I’m in need of liquid courage to make it through the rest of the night. Slowly I make my way around the room greeting Jungkook’s family, as he sits with the vixen of a bartender, a sensual smile plastered on his face with a rum and coke in his hand. “Y/N you have to tell me… are you and my Jungkookie going to give me grandchildren.” His mother asks smile on her face, excitement evident. I feel the words get caught in my throat, GRANDCHILDREN? WITH HOW HE TREATS ME…...? HELL, NO THAT MAN IS NOT TOUCHING ME. As if on cue my eyes shift to look for Jungkook at the bar but he and the bartender are no longer there. Of fucking course, he took HER somewhere to fuck at OUR wedding.  Almost immediately after your disappointment of a wedding, you’re shipped off on your honeymoon. You spend most days in Mykonos, alone Jungkook wanting to explore Greece with beautiful Greek women.  

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last night of your honeymoon Jungkook crashes in your shared room drunk off his ass, a loud laugh escaping his lips as he shushes the mirror next to the entrance. “Fuck be quiet Jungkook don’t wake up Y/N remember” He scolds himself. You can hear the childish groan that releases from his lip “No I wanna wake up Y/N.” Your eyebrows furrow, at his drunken figure. Did he not see you on the couch? “Jungkook?” you asked confused. His head whipping around quickly; a huge smile plastered on his face “Y/N!! I got you wine and a couple of more things” He exclaims staggering across the room “I-I shouldn’t be the only one having fun on our honeymoon right” taking a seat right next to you on the couch as he drops a brown bag in your lap. “O-oh um” “Please.... I wanna have fun with you, it’s so boring to keep talking to people I don’t understand and don’t understand me.” You sit there in shock just staring at his openly chatty self “Please take some shots get drunk with me you never let loose” He begs as he reaches in the bag on your lap pulling out some nips.  

After a while you and Jungkook find your drunken selves on the beach, Jungkook laughing as you struggle to walk with the sand beneath your feet. Music rang in the air from one of the clubs near your villa, “Dance with me Y/N” Jungkook exclaims as he grabs your hand pulling you into his frame. His hands finding their way to your waist, guiding them against his hips. A soft groan releases from his lips as your drunken form begins dancing to the music. Turning yourself around pressing your ass against his now hard member.  

Both of you completely oblivious to the sensual way your bodies move against each other. Jungkook's hands firmly placed on your waist, His head resting on your shoulder as your hand reaches behind you. You find your fingers interlocking with his hair. His right hand wrapping around your chin as he angles your head so you are facing him. “I’m having a lot of fun Y/N” lips centimeters apart, the scent of whiskey, and vodka radiating off of him. ‘Brown and clear...You’re gonna have one hell of a day tomorrow Kookie’, you thought. His eyes drift to your lips as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. Your lips part slightly, his bottom lip finding its way in between his teeth as he leans in.  

‘He’s drunk Y/N you can’t take advantage of that he would be ignoring you right now if he wasn’t,’ you tell yourself trying to find the strength to reject his advances despite everything inside of you screaming to let him kiss you. 

You pull away quickly “I-I should get to bed I'm really tired” you state shyly as you rush back toward your villa. Jungkook’s trailing behind you, Once you reach your villa he finally speaks “thank you” you turn to look at him confused “F-for what?” 

He smiles “Hanging out with me, I don’t know being my friend even though I don’t really deserve it” You look at him sadly “You’ve been going through a lot being forced to marry someone you don’t love or can't even stand” He furrows his brows as he shakes his head “I can stand you Y/N, What I can’t stand is the fact that my father cares so little about me that he basically sold me off to your family. You had nothing to do with that you were a pawn in this just as much as I was” You nod slightly “I want us to try to be friends again, Jungkook” He rubs the back of his head looking at the ground “We haven’t been friends this entire time” 

“No idiot I meant like when we were in high school, except for the revenge porn stuff” You state matter of factly. You can see the way Jungkook shifts on his feet, anxious at the memory. “Oh- yeah of course you were my best friend and I really hated losing you like that honestly I was going-” You smile at him softly “Well we should get to bed, you’re really drunk and the past is the past we should leave it there no point in bringing up old possibly painful memories for both of us” You turn yourself around and make your way over to the bedroom in your shared villa. Since, you both have gotten to Greece you have been the one to sleep in the grandiose bed. You can hear Jungkook tossing and turning on the couch, since for the first time in 2 weeks Hes actually sleeping in your shared villa. You make your way out of bed and approach him “You should take the bed Kookie, you'll be really uncomfortable if you don’t and being hungover in an uncomfortable place isn't fun.”  

“N-no” He slurs, “T-the bed I-is for you it’s the least I can do since I’ve been a dick” You shake your head rapidly, yes you were a little tipsy but Jungkook was FADED; You still can’t help the way your heart races at his politeness. “I’ve slept in it every day so far, I don’t mind the couch tonight” Jungkook crosses his arms and pouts “S-so you don’t want to sleep next to me” you stare at him confused “I-I haven’t the whole trip Kook-ah" “I know” the pout on his face staying there “I wanted you to though, I hated waking up in some random room or house with a woman whose name I can’t pronounce” He whispered “Why did you then?”  

He groans as he stands up, grabbing your hand in the process and dragging both of your figures to the room. Jungkook continued to mumble under his breath. You can only catch the last bit of what he’s saying “I want to sleep next to you” you are about to say something when he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in to the large bed. “I want to hold you” He drunkly confesses “We used to cuddle all the time before; now you don’t even look at me and I hate it.” Youre stuck in a trance as he rubs circles on your waist. “I miss you Y/N I was so happy when my –hiccup- dad told me I was marrying you.” “You treated me like trash the whole time” you mutter. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you again, you only get hurt when I do” he whispers. “Jungkoo-” Your statement is cut off by his light snores and shallow breaths; He’s sleeping.  

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After your honeymoon you and Jungkook’s relationship has improved. He helped you move your things into the home his parents bought for us. Honestly none of us could even believe Jungkook actually came to the wedding let alone stayed in the house were supposed to share. 

 I’ve taken over the second bedroom to gain some solace from the hurricane that is his temper. There were days I would be greeted with Jungkook’s beautiful smile and the calmness would contain me. Others I’d walk out of my room and have a foreign object thrown in my direction. Jungkook and I would hang out on those days and talk until the sunset. Every morning I would have a cup of Jungkook’s favorite tea ready and set for him to begin his day properly.   

One morning I woke up extremely early, honestly at an ungodly hour. Tonight, was a particularly bad night, after our drunken adventure in Greece, Jungkook's drunken form rarely sought me out. Tonight, I figured would be no different. Until Jungkook came in the house and began taking his anger at our situation out on me. “YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME. YOURE THE REASON I CAN’T LIVE MY DAMN LIFE FUCK Y/N WHY CAN’T YOU MAKE THIS EASIER FOR ME AND DISAPPEAR” He shouted at you, deciding it was best to just ignore him and go to your bedroom. I can hear as he slams his bedroom door behind him.  

 After many attempts to fall asleep fail, I decide to go for a walk. As I run out the door, the world outside takes me over. I didn’t even realize how long it actually has been since I’ve left the house alone. The autumn wind rushing through the air as you make your way down the street. I find my mind drifting back to the days before your family informed you of the dowery. Jungkook hates you for being his wife but loves you for being his friend. I don’t understand anymore. My feet just move as I drift deeper into thought.  

The emotions I’ve been holding in begin to flow out as the tears burn my eyes. Finally feeling the pressure and change from this marriage. Losing track of time as I sit on a bench looking out to the Han River. The water is peaceful. The sounds of the city embrace me as I stare into the sunset. I don’t notice the hours pass until I begin to see traffic in the park pickup. I stand from my place on the bench and walk toward the bridge. Staring over the edge you contemplate jumping. Making everything easier on everyone. You feel utterly lost as the tears rush down your face. Shaking your head rapidly “no” you tell yourself as you make your way back, back to Jungkook, back to the life I no longer feel like leading.   

As the house came into view, and I saw 2 unfamiliar cars in the driveway. “Jungkook-ah I’m back is anyone he-” I shout as I walk into the house only to be cut off by the impact of Jungkook’s body colliding with mine. His breathing is heavy and a sigh of relief escapes him. His hands rushing to either side of my head as he looked me up and down. His chest heaving up and down rapidly. His eyes full of tears that were threatening fall. 

 “Fuck I thought something happened to you” he says examining my face. “Where were you? I woke up and tried to see if you wanted to go get breakfast and you weren’t answering the door, so I opened it and you weren’t there your bed is made where’d you sleep? I called your dad, man. I called MY dad” He doesn’t remember what he said to you last night. I smile at him apologetically as I notice the 2 men on the couch and I give them a polite bow. “I’m sorry Kook-ah I woke up really early and chose to go for a walk. I lost track of time and only made it home just now I’m okay; both of you did not need to take time out of your day to come here” you gesture toward your fathers. You can see Jungkook's father is completely stoic and uncaring, you avoid your fathers gaze as his figure trembled on the couch. 

“Y/N” Your father states just barely above a whisper as he looks you up and down “Dad I'm fine” You look at him, understanding his pointed worried gaze. “Y/N the last time you couldn’t sleep and went out for a walk I found you bleeding from your wrists in our neighbors pool” You can feel Jungkook's worried gaze on you. The awkwardness from the conversation growing around the room.  

“did that happen this time? and you have no right bringing that up it is a completely different situation” Your words do nothing to soothe him as you shove past Jungkook and lift your sleeves in his face “I’m fucking fine” You rush over to your front door slamming it open “Please excuse yourself, I'm tired and would like to go to bed after explaining to the husband YOU forced me to marry why I tried to kill myself, I apologize Mr. Jeon you did not have to take time out of your busy day to come here” Jungkook scoffs and mummers something under his breath. I walked the men out of the door, ignoring Jungkook’s hard stare at the back of my head as I said my goodbyes and apologized again.  

“Y/N” he whispered, you stood frozen in place at the front door. “What happened? Why’d your dad-” “It’s not particularly your business or your problem honestly Jungkook you’ve made it quite clear how you feel about me last night.” You cut him off curtly, finally making your way toward your bedroom “Y/N I was drunk last night I didn’t-” “WHAT ABOUT ALL THE OTHER NIGHTS” I shout “Look Jungkook, with the exception of our ‘honeymoon’ you don’t even want me around you drunk. You can’t stand to look at me and the ring on my finger knowing you got sucked into something you never wanted to do” Jungkook stood in his spot, trembling, “Y-Y/N it’s not like that-” “I don’t care anymore, honestly” You state curtly.  

“I'm your friend Y/N, do you not understand how fucking worried I was when I realized you weren’t here and I had no clue where you would go” I scoff at his statement “Maybe if you actually put effort into this ‘friendship’ You would have known” A pout forms on his already saddened face. “You’re right I should be a better friend to you and I will be” He promises.  

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Since that day, a few months back; Jungkook requests for me to let him know that I will be leaving so he does not start another panic; We’ve also dedicated Fridays as our friend date night, which usually just consists of us hanging out at our shared house watching movies and playing video games. As I exit the shower, Jungkook stops me as I walk toward my room “Hey, do you want to go out with me tonight?” Jungkook asks shyly. My heart sored at the question; I know he wasn’t asking in any romantic way. I just couldn’t help but get excited at the thought of leaving the house. I hadn't left much since moving in typically spending my days home or working, no time to really explore and go out “Yes! I mean yeah sure that sounds fun” I exclaim. After I have my hair out, in a wet curly look and throw on the most beautiful form fitting dress that I own and make my way to the door. Jungkook is standing there waiting on his phone. His eyes slowly scan up me and he swallows harshly as his eyes grow wide. “Uhm… Let’s…”  I smile at him and grab his hand and pull him out of the house interrupting him “Let’s go Jungkookie”   

The club was fun, Jungkook told me to have as much fun as I want since I rarely go out. Even so, I never leave the bar as Jungkook can obviously spot someone so he excuses himself from me exclaiming he will be back in like 10 minutes and runs off to the dance floor. Anxious about the crowd and my sudden loneliness; I pull myself into a dark corner at the end of the bar drunk patrons around me oblivious to presence. Feeling a hand on my ass and turn to see an unfamiliar handsome face. “Hey, um sorry to sound rude but can you like take your fucking hand off of me” I say shyly.  

The handsome man smiles and nods as he quickly pulls his hand off of my bottom “Sorry, I couldn’t get my footing with all the people I didn’t mean to…like touch you there I swear, I’m Mark” “Y/N” I say as I reach my hand out. He smiles and shakes my hand.” What are you drinking” He smiles “Malibu Pineapple” I reply politely. Mark orders me another and soon I’m feeling tipsy. His kind flirty personality only making you even more flustered, He smiles and places his hand on the small of your back as you talk. You check your phone only to see Jungkook has been gone for the better part of an hour; Mark’s deep voice pulling me out of my trance “SO… I hate to be THAT guy but are you here alone?” My eyes drift from my phone, my bottom lip pulled between my teeth. “Oh I-” 

Before I can respond I feel a hand snake around my waist and the melodic voice I’ve come to secretly love comes from behind me “No she’s here with me…… her husband” Jealousy laced in his voice as he pulls me closer to him. “And were supposed to be having a good time together…without you”   

“Sorry man, I didn’t know she was married. You know…since she was standing here by herself for a while, and it looked like she didn’t seem to mind spending time with me” Mark smirks sarcastically. The anger is growing more and more evident on Jungkook’s face. “Excuse me?!?” Mark shifts and smiles to me ignoring Jungkook’s ever growing angry form. “You trying to go somewhere less crowded you look really uncomfortable with how many people are here” “Oh I don’t know” I state shyly, stepping back a little. “What Y/N I'm just trying to be nice ill bring you home. I just don’t trust this guy you know? Who leaves their wife alone in a bar like this for over an hour?” It's obvious that was the last straw as Jungkook pulls me behind him as he punches Mark in the face. Mark returns the blow, Jungkook's large form stumbling back at the power the other man had. “You want to keep talking shit asshole” Jungkook's loud voice rings out as he charges Mark again. I stood frozen in place from Jungkook's forceful grab. The bar hitting my back.  Soon security was separating the brawl and me and Jungkook were in the car on our way back to the house.   

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the passenger seat I take in the details of Jungkook’s now bruised face. I shift my eyes back to the windshield, a pout evident on my face “Why was he with you, Y/N?” Jungkook questions the tone in his voice is obviously a sad and jealous one. “He just came up to and we started talking he bought me a couple drinks that’s all Kookie, I promise.” I whine. It’s happened on occasion after Jungkook swore to make up for not being a good friend to you; you guys would flirt and be all over each other, yet neither would make a real move. “Would you have gone home with him? Would you have let him fuck you?” He asks scared of the answer. “WHAT? NO! Jungkook-ah I swear nothing like that would have happened. I mean Mark was really attractive and I’m sure he would have shown me a great time but I just wasn’t interested in him, kookie” That answer seems to have settled him for now. The drive now growing silent. “Y-y/n?” Jungkook slurs “Yeah” “You ever thought about it?” “What?” I ask confused. “Sex, with me” He asks shyly. “Um Jungkook? How drunk are you did you-” “No that doesn’t count I mean recently?” He stammers out.  

“Honestly?” He nods rapidly “Yes I need you to tell me the truth because I'm gonna kiss you and I'm not trying to get slapped” He confesses. My eyes widen at his drunk confession “Oh I wouldn’t slap you if you kissed me” He smiles slightly “really? Would you stop me if I touched you like I want Baby?” lust filling his tone as his hand placed itself inside your thigh slowly rubbing up toward my core. A small whimper is released from my lips. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth. “You want me to stop y/n?” He asks cockily. I shake my head rapidly. “You want my fingers inside you don’t you baby?” I nod rapidly. 

 “Don’t worry baby girl I’ll do that for you.” he says as he pulls into the driveway. He runs to the passenger door and opens it for me as I get out and wrap my arms around him. “Oh yeah Kookie? Are you gonna make me cum for you?” I smirk the drunk naughty thoughts take over. Jungkook wraps his arms around my waist and for the first time tonight I smell the alcohol coming off Jungkook. He’s as drunk as I am or even more so, he presses his chest against my back and I feel a hard shaft against my ass. He peppers kisses up the side of my neck until his lips reach my ears “mmm Baby girl, I wanna eat your pussy so bad” He smacks my ass harshly as he lifts me and carries me into the home.   

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up in Jungkook’s bed the next morning, events from last night come rolling in. We had sex, 4 times, I notice the coldness on the side of the bed from me. I make my way out of Jungkook’s room and dash toward the kitchen. Jungkook is sitting at the table on the phone back to the entrance. “I don’t know Jimin we fucked like 4 times Jimin but that’s all she helped me cum and I helped her that’s all it was” “No I don’t have feelings for her, we used each other Jimin, it wasn’t like that this guy was talking to her at the club and she told me she wasn’t going to go home with him but let’s be honest if I wasn’t there, she would have gone with him and I can’t have some slut for a wife” 

 “No man I just helped her cum so she doesn’t start going out for some rando guy to get her off she doesn’t really expect anything from it. She just wanted to cum that’s how good little whores do it and from last night I know she’s one of the best sluts I’ve ever met so easy to get her to do anything for me cause she’s a sub” “Look I got to go Jimin before she gets up, I got to get he out of my bed before she thinks I want her there all the time…. dude of course I’m gonna fuck her again it’s one of the best pussies I’ve ever had……your stupid dude bye”   

I rush to my room and lock the door. His words stab at my heart. Just some easy slut? That’s what he thought you were, because you let your guard down and gave yourself to the first person you’ve ever had sex with. Tears stream down my face as I hyperventilate a knock at my bedroom pulls me out of a trance. “Y/n-ie?” another knock “you, okay?” I shout from behind the door. 

 “Yeah…I’m fine” I hear slight shuffling “Did you want to go to breakfast maybe we can take a walk to Han River you said you like going there right?” His nervousness is evident through the door. “Um…Honestly Jungkook, I’m not feeling too good I’m like really hungover and I’d like to take a shower” to wash your scent and touch off of me. “Oh…. well can I join you then?” I shake my head no, god please no. “Y/N-ie? Babe?” my heart shatters at his words “Um I’m sorry Kookie but I really don’t feel like it” “Oh okay, um when you’re done can you come hang out and watch a that Invisible Man movie you wanted to see” “Um sure I’ll see you in a bit bye Jungkook” Jungkook’s face twists in to a pout behind the door.  

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After your shower you leave the room and walk down the hall “Jungkook?” before I pass his bedroom, I peak my head in and see Jungkook laying on his bed completely naked, eyes closed tight, stroking himself, moaning out your name. The sight is addicting I feel my own excitement building up at the sight of him. I try to back out of the room and accidentally slam into Jungkook’s bedroom door. His eyes shoot open and his hand leaves his member. “Y/N! I…UM…I WAS JUST….” I smile and walk toward him. “We’re you thinking about me Jungkook” I teased. He bites his lip “Were you thinking about last night or the fact that you missed fucking me hard into the shower” He sighs and nods “both” he mutters. His words from earlier out of my mind as I place my lips against his and let him take me for the 5th time in 24 hours.   

The way he pounds into me, his hair stuck to his forehead. “Fuck baby girl you take it so good, look at your pretty pussy taking this cock the way you should…. hmmm that’s my pussy baby girl” I moan in response “yes kookie-ah only yours” My climax builds fast as Jungkook’s thrusts get sloppy. “Yeah, oh baby girl I’m gonna cum so deep in your pussy” He exclaims as he captures his lips into mine. “All mine baby girl” he thrusts once more and I feel a warmth inside me as he kisses my neck.   

He gets up and runs to the bathroom. A loud ping comes through on the phone

   Areum<3: When are you going to divorce that ugly ass wife? Baby I got to spend time with you at the club but fucking in a bathroom then getting kicked out for a fight especially over her is crazy.  

My breath hitches and swells up in my throat as I read the message. He had sex with someone last night right before he had sex with me, he took my mouth last night. Disgust fills me up as I run to my bedroom. Opening the closet, I begin throwing my things in the luggage bag. “Baby did you want- what are you doing?!” Jungkook stopped at my door, a confused look on his face. 

 “I’m leaving Jungkook” I state as tears stream down my face. Panic rises on Jungkook’s face “why? You don’t want to be here anymore? Did I do something? I can fix it I swear but you can’t go…you can’t just go when we….” “Areum misses you and you should focus on one girl Jungkook-ah” I cut him off and realization dawns on his face as he runs to his room to grab his phone.

 The second the phone is in his hand he rushes out of his room and sees your retreating figure making your way to the door “Y/N-AH! DON’T GO PLEASE” You freeze the sound of his voice cracking “Areum is just some girl she’s not anyone don’t just assume because some girl texted me, she misses me that I’m going to run to her” “You were with her last night….you Fucked her last night not even an hour before you fucked me, my mouth” 

Jungkook shakes his head “No it’s not like that I swear like you said I fucked her, Baby girl I can’t fuck you. I make love to you please I’m begging you don’t go okay I know we haven’t been the best but I can fix this don’t do this not when I know I love you please” I shake my head and make my way to the door as Jungkook’s sobs grow. “Stop please” he reaches for the door and slams it shut. “You can’t just leave, not after what we just did, not when I love you, please” I smile at him lightly and press my lips against his.

 I feel his hands snake around my waist as he kisses me hard. I lose myself in his lips soon I reach for my luggage bag and rush out the door and into my car. Jungkook is banging on my passenger side window trying to open the door tears streaming down his face “please, stop, stop the car, get out please stay with me, BABY PLEASE” he shouts as I reverse and drive off the last sight, I have is Jungkook chasing my car with tears streaming down his face   

[dresupi]

Rewrite the Stars - Sansberyn

for vampireacademy96 1,627 words Rated T Rewrite the Stars - Zendaya & Zac Efron

A/n: Canon era, but that’s the only thing that’s canon here

~~~~~~~~~~

Oberyn laughed and it tugged at Sansa’s heart.

She did what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t... she turned and caught his eye across the dining hall and she wished she could just hold his gaze for the rest of her life instead of what she knew she had to do.

Duty often got in the way of happiness. The only way to have both was to be happy in one’s duty. Sansa didn’t know if she had it in her.

She inhaled as his dark eyes bore into hers, and she was the first to look away. To excuse herself, nodding to her mother as she turned to leave.

Her betrothed would be here within the hour. She should go prepare herself to meet him.

Tears caught in her throat as she broke into a run the second she’d entered the corridor.

“Sansa!”

He called out her name and she knew she shouldn’t turn, but she didn’t care. She did anyway and waited for him.

Oberyn’s hands encircled her waist and he pulled her into an alcove, his lips on hers in an instant. Hot, wet, and never demanding, kissing Oberyn was heaven itself.

“Run away with me,” he murmured, pleaded. “Come with me to Dorne. They won’t find you. They won’t find us...”

“If I do, Stannis could assassinate my brother...”

“That’s your brother’s fault, not yours.”

“My mum would try to marry Arya off.”

“Why does this fall to you, darling?” he asked, kissing her again and making her want to press her skin against his skin. More than it already was. She wanted to strip off his tunic and run her hands over his chest. To find the source of his warmth and curl up there forever. To occupy the same space as he did.

“Because, I’m the oldest daughter,” she said sadly. “I will marry Stannis and bear his children...”

“No,” Oberyn murmured. “Marry me. Bear my children. We’d have a nice wedding in Dorne. I’d plant a godswood for you.”

“In Dorne?” she asked, smiling.

“I’d do anything to marry you, Sansa Stark.”

She knew he would. His desperation was sincere and matched only by her own. She wanted so badly to go with him, but duty eschewed all other in her life. She was a Stark. And she owed this to her brother. To her family.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “You know why I cannot, don’t you? If it was my choice, I’d be with you in Dorne...”

He looked pained and pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re too good for this world, Sansa.”

She sighed and kissed his lips again, tearing herself from his arms and trying not to cry as she left him there in the corridor on the way to her chambers.

When Stannis arrived, her mother came to fetch her, and Sansa didn’t meet her eye line as she was led into one of the solars.

“I know you’re upset...” Catelyn began.

“That doesn’t begin to explain my feelings,” Sansa replied coldly. “The only reason I do this is for Robb. I don’t do this for you or your happiness, or your peace of mind. I do this so my brother won’t be in danger. You are keeping me from my happiness.”

“Sansa. Find happiness in your duty, love.”

Her mother sounded as desperate as Oberyn had. In a different way, of course. And Sansa knew from where her desperation stemmed. But she still did not relish her status as a pawn.

“Only if you can truthfully tell me you find happiness in yours,” she replied, looking at her mother for the first time. Her father was dead. Her mother, a grieving widow and a frightened mother forced to trade one child’s happiness for another’s life. If she could find a glimmer of light in this darkness, Sansa would attempt to as well. But when she gazed into her mother’s eyes, she saw nothing but resignation.

And so she resigned herself as well.

“I’m sorry, Sansa... I truly am.”

“I believe you,” she whispered, placing her hand upon the door and pulling it open.

Stannis was standing by a window and he barely seemed to notice when she arrived.

Her handmaid remained as a chaperone, sewing something in the chair in the corner. Catelyn made her introductions and greetings, before leaving them.

Sansa forced herself to stand tall and meet Stannis’s face. It wasn’t such a horrible face. He was actually quite handsome. And Oberyn was quite a bit older than she was, so the age difference wasn’t what bothered her.

It was just...

He wasn’t Oberyn. And looking at him only solidified that fact.

But he was a good man. She’d be treated well.

It was the best she could hope for in this situation.

She smiled, and Stannis chuckled warmly, shaking his head and turning back to the window. “You really are one of the good ones, aren’t you, Sansa? You’re good at doing what you’re told without a thought for yourself.”

“I...” she trailed off, unsure what he was talking about. “Your Highness, I’m unsure what---“

“I don’t wish to marry you, Sansa Stark. Not for lack of desire or the fact that you’d not make me a proper wife. I whole-heartedly believe you’d be a lovely wife. You’d be a good mother to Shireen. You’d be good to me and any future children we have would be in line for the throne, but...” He shook his head. “I have no wish to marry for political reasons ever again. If I wed again, it would have to be a love match. And we wouldn’t be a love match. How could we be?”

Sansa felt like whatever was restricting her heart had loosened and she could finally breathe. “What do you...”

“You marry your Dornish Prince, my lady,” he said, bowing low. “Make your love match and don’t let your mother use you as a pawn.”

“You know about...”

“Oberyn Martell? The Red Viper? Indeed. My scouts told me to have him killed so he wouldn’t be tempted to kill for stealing his paramour directly from his arms.” He smiled. “Not to worry, I know you’ve not been ruined. I’ll pass along to your mother how beneficial a match between the throne and Dorne would be.”

“She won’t listen,” Sansa said. “She believes you will kill Robb if she doesn’t offer you...”

“Her oldest daughter?” he laughed. “I don’t want the throne. Not after everything that’s happened. It killed my idiot brother. It almost made me do the unthinkable... it’s better that it goes to a Northman. Perhaps your brother has the right head on his shoulders and the constitution for ruling from it.”

“He’s actually going to have it melted down and make his own...” Sansa said softly.

“Good man. That’s a good choice.” Stannis nodded. “Now go. I’ll tell your mother about my plans.”

“Thank you,” she said, bowing so low her knees ached before leaving and bidding her maid leave her side as she ran through the castle to the courtyard where she knew she’d find Oberyn.

It was dark, and he was kneeling in the circle of moonlight that was cast upon the centre of the grounds. And When he looked up to see her standing there, he swore softly, and she ran into his arms. “Stannis told me to marry you,” she said softly, leaning up. “And I don’t wish to wait. We should go now. And be married on the ship back to Dorne.”

“Darling,” he breathed, combing his fingers through her hair as he kissed her soundly. “What about your mother and your brother?”

“Stannis won’t try to take the throne. I’m not beholden to him or anyone... I want you, Oberyn.”

He kissed her again. “I will take you if that’s what you wish. Don’t you want to say goodbye to your family?”

“Robb... yes...” she said, pulling back, but keeping his hand in hers. “Come. Let’s go see him now.”

She needn’t have worried at all. When they arrived in the throne room, Robb seemed to be expecting them. He was smiling when she approached to inform him of her decision.

“I wish I had your propensity for knowing what you want and how to achieve it, Sansa. I see you’ve procured yourself not only a love match but a useful one as well?” he asked, taking one look at Oberyn and seeming to know all already.

Sansa frowned. Not that her brother wasn’t astute and intelligent, but generally speaking, he wasn’t.

He explained immediately. “Stannis already spoke with me and Mother, and I, for one, couldn’t be happier. You have my blessing. If you wish to marry here, you are of course allowed. I’ll bless your union and give you away if you choose to marry here..”

Sansa breathed easier, releasing Oberyn’s hand to throw her arms around her brother. “Oh, Robb... thank you,” she whispered. He squeezed her tightly before releasing her once more. He extended his hand to Oberyn, who shook it.

“I thank you, Your Majesty, for your blessing.”

“And I thank you, Your Highness. For being someone worthy of my sister’s affections.” He turned back to Sansa. “Now, when would you like the ceremony to occur?” Robb asked.

“As soon as one can be arranged,” Sansa said. “I don’t wish to remain unmarried for longer than I have to...”

Oberyn slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side. He could do so now that they were engaged.

Sansa brushed her fingertips over the back of his hand. It was almost surreal.

Oberyn would have his fiery princess.

And she’d have her prince.

Sansa’s duty was fulfilled. She was free to see to her happiness. And Oberyn’s.