#*clenching fists* I need… oc content….

[sunnibits]

god… the urge to make Dimitri AMVs even though I’ve never made one before, have a horrible motivation track record, am currently experiencing one of my worst art blocks ever, etc….. the oc brainrot is simply so powerful….

[yueebby]

all mine — gojo satoru

synopsis. It’s the exchange event and gojo doesn’t like how that kyoto boy is looking at you. 

contents.  fluff, jealous!gojo, minor male oc, loosely based on that one jujutsu scroll, satoru is really insufferable and problematic but in his defense he is lovesick

gojo satoru is seething. he knows that you’re good looking, but he doesn’t need the entire world to know that either. if it were up to him, your beauty would be for his eyes only. 

especially not that kyoto third year who has been eyeing you since your arrival.

it was sickening, really. and to add salt to the wound, you have been oblivious to it all. one moment, gojo has his arms draped around your shoulders, and in the blink of an eye, you were being whisked away by that third year.

“please don’t do what i think you're trying to do,” shoko’s unamused voice breaks his train of thought. her knowing gaze made gojo chuckle.

“who, me? why do you assume i’m plotting something?” gojo feigns innocence, hoping his friend couldn’t sense the vicious wave of cursed energy that was leaking out of him. 

shoko doesn’t bother telling him that his usual sky blue eyes were darker, clouded with annoyance or whatever angsty emotion he was dealing with. suguru snorts at his best friend’s silent torment.

“he’s kinda cute,” shoko places a hand on her hip while she observes you conversing with the brown haired third year from kyoto. he was probably a clan kid, judging by his traditional kimono design for a uniform. “you think [name]’s into him?” she eggs gojo on with a smirk on her lips. 

suguru bumps his shoulder against hers as a silent warning.

it takes a moment for satoru to process shoko’s conclusion, the realization evident on his face as his eyes slowly widened. 

“like hell she is.” satoru’s fist clench and he thinks that he will explode if you keep entertaining that stupid kyoto boy. why waste your time with a weakling, when satoru, who was much worthier of your attention was standing just a couple of meters away in the same courtyard? satoru glares at you from above his glasses, hoping you can feel just an ounce of the anger he feels. 

you don’t. 

he thinks he dies a little bit on the inside. in fact, he thinks you’re purposefully messing with his mind with the way you playfully smack the kyoto boy’s shoulder with the same soft hand that gojo has dreamed of holding since his first year. 

“stop being dramatic and let's warm up. we have team battles today.” annoyance is evident in suguru’s voice. yaga had warned the duo that if either of them acted up during the exchange event, the consequences would be dire.

“dramatic?” he scoffs, his glare not wavering. “she has the audacity to look beautiful in the presence of other men. she’s doing this on purpose.” his arms are crossed now.

exasperated looks are exchanged by his two friends.

screw whatever yaga said. without wasting another moment, satoru forced his way in your direction, ignoring suguru's attempt to stop him. shoko, however, held suguru back. "don't," she said, her eyes fixed on gojo. "i want to see what this idiot will do."

suguru sighed, acknowledging that gojo deserved whatever was coming his way.

you realize that perhaps you are too lenient with gojo satoru. you have forgiven every stunt he has pulled, but the look on his face right now as he approaches you with a wide grin makes you sense that might end now.

“wifey!” he closes the space between you. you furrow your eyebrows at the unfamiliar pet name. “how could you leave me for some kyoto scum?” 

you choke on air at his blatant insult to the boy in front of you. 

“ah, i apologize, i couldn’t help myself but steal her when i saw her. i’m ishikawa daisuke–”

“what a bold statement to say to her husband!” gojo doesn’t spare ishikawa a second glance, choosing to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. too shocked to move, you let gojo relish in the intimate action. 

you’re equally as surprised as ishikawa at satoru’s declaration, a strangled noise escaping from your mouth. the idea of gojo as your husband… it was enough to make your brain short circuit. where did he even get the idea from?

ishikawa’s eyes are blown wide, any semblance of self confidence thrown out of the window,  “i-i apologize for the misunderstanding. i wasn’t aware you were already married so young.” he stutters, bowing deeply to gojo who is smirking with a hand on his hip. 

“damn right we are. i knew i had to tie the knot with this beauty the moment i met her.” satoru proudly exclaims, his gaze softening when it returns on you. the initial shock is starting to wear off and you are shooting gojo your harshest glare. satoru’s antics seem to never end.

“isn’t my wifey the cutest?” he coos down at you, tapping your nose with a single finger. you are tempted to bite it off. 

“gojo satoru, you are the most insufferable man that i know,” you point at his chest angrily. “the most delusional too.” you mutter.

 he places a pained hand to his chest,  “you know other men? you’re killing me sweetheart.”

ishikawa coughs awkwardly, reminding you of his presence. you give him your best sympathetic look.

satoru, annoyed that your attention is off of him once again narrowed his eyes at the brown haired boy, “shouldn’t you be practicing with the rest of the kyoto weaklings? i recommend you to do so if you don’t want to be killed on the battlefield today.” satoru’s voice is an octave lower. 

“satoru!” you’re startled by his indirect threat, quick to defend your senior who looked like he was moments away from pissing his pants. 

“i-if you will excuse me.” ishikawa bows deeply once again before scurrying away without another word. you watch him hopelessly. the moment ishikawa is gone, satoru’s intimidating aura is replaced with a pout as he crosses his arms bitterly. 

“if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked.” satoru exhales forcefully with a hmph. his arms are still crossed and if it weren’t for the fact that he had acted utterly out of line, you would almost go as far as calling him cute. 

“excuse me?”

“you were trying to get my attention,” he points out. “you don’t have to y’know.” my eyes are always on you. the words die on his lips.

a scoff leaves your mouth, disbelief is evident on your face, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you do!”

“are you jealous or something?” the idea that the great gojo satoru was sick with envy amused a cruel part inside of you.

“who? me? what could that country bumpkin have that i don’t?” he sounds almost offended at your accusation. 

“he’s nice.”

“i can be nice!" satoru whines. there is desperation in his eyes. "i bought a can of tuna for that stray cat the other week, remember?”

“yeah, but he’s nice to people. he’s also polite and-”

“alright i get it! you don’t have to keep talking about him.” satoru's eyebrows furrow in sync with the way his bottom lip slightly juts out. “i just didn’t like how he looked at you.”

“and how did he look at me?” 

satoru grumbles. was it not obvious enough? “his gaze was devouring you like you were his or something. honestly, what a loser. he’ll have to get in line.”

frustration laces your words as you challenge him, “you can’t just march around scaring off all of the guys that i talk to. i want you to admit that you were jealous."

satoru's jaw drops.

"you can't be serious." he protests, cerulean eyes widening. "i'm starting to think you like torturing me." you smile at his comment. you were indeed doing this on purpose.

"oh but i am completely serious," you reply with faux innocence, eyes blinking at him. “satoru.” you enunciate each syllable of his name, dealing the finishing blow.

he folds. you were being so unfair.

"i was jealous." he confesses petulantly. your grin widens as he admits his jealousy. the victory, however, is short-lived as satoru seizes the opportunity to sneak in another flirty comment. “it’s not my fault my dream girl happens to be everyone else’s.”

a groan escapes your lips, and you take your hand, lightly flicking his forehead. satoru accepts the physical contact happily.

"when will you give this bit up?" you retort, raising an eyebrow. 

“when i finally put a ring on that finger,” satoru winks. you regard his words with skepticism, oblivious to the fact that he was dead set on it.  gojo satoru was going to make you his, or at least die trying.

remember spring days masterlist

extra notes:

prior to the exchange event, utahime actually warned ishikawa that you were off limits. she didn’t elaborate why.

poor ishikawa seemed to be the target of most of satoru’s attacks during the team battle.

tokyo won the event by an overwhelming amount.

“i deserve victory kisses for carrying tokyo to victory, right [name]?” satoru had teased you on the way home.

you pretend to think about it, “hmm i think suguru’s curses were quite helpful. he’s the one that deserves the kisses.”

satoru had never moved faster in his entire life to cover your mouth with the palm of his hand and whisk you away from his best friend who had joined in your joke.

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 18

summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as " hate " was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths. Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

warning for this chapter: +18 nsfw content, p in v, ridding

notes: it’s been a while since I posted this fic, but I was on vacation and right now, I’m stuck writing chapter 19, like I already have Birdie planned out but chapter 19 is like stuck there and I don’t know when I will be posting the next chapter, I hope that in two weeks time. So let’s pray

Sorry if there are any mistakes or typos, this was published unedited

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

You clung to the blanket that Satoru had given you after changing into one of his shirts, no matter how hard you tried you were unable to stop shivering.

But your pulse and breathing were agitated after the encounter with Naoya. You clenched your fists and cursed yourself for letting it get to you so much.

“Here you have.” Satoru entered the room with a cup of chocolate in his hands. 

You smiled and grabbed it, feeling the smell of chocolate and the warmth of the cup. “Thank you ‘Toru.”

He sat down next to you on the bed and put an arm around your shoulder, while gently caressing your arm. “Do you want to talk now about what happened?”

You took a deep breath, feeling Satoru's presence and comfort with you, and you began to tell the story of what happened.

2 hours earlier 

You took the wine Utahime gave you and drank it. The taste of the wine went down your throat and you felt a sweet taste run through your mouth. Your lips became slightly sticky and you ran your tongue over them. Utahime was drinking her wine and your eyes drifted to search for Satoru’s figure, hoping he would come soon.

You didn’t mind spending time with Utahime, but your heart ached thinking Satoru needed to face his parents on his own once again. You wanted to stand beside him.

“He will be here soon.” Utahime smiled. 

“Yeah… I just.” You sighed. “I wanted to be with him.” 

“I get it.” She nodded. “But now, relax and try this one.” She gave you another glass.

“Utahime.” You cried. “I think it is too much.” 

“It is not.” She smiled. “Take a sip, it’s really good.” She said drinking it. 

You did as she told and in fact it was good, it tasted really expensive. “It’s really good.” 

“Yeah right?” She grinned.

“Oh, there is no way.” A voice spoke and your eyes slowly opened.

Your hands started to sweat and your breathing started to be irregular.

“Ugh Naoya.” Utahime spoke. “What do you want? Go to another place and bother someone else.” 

Naoya laughed and the laughter, which was familiar to your discomfort, stabbed you like knives. “I’m here to say hi to my old worker.” You saw how a smiled crossed his face.

Utahime turned to look at you. “You know him?” 

“Yes…”

“Doll…” He walked towards you. “Last time we met your friends were pretty rude, but I know Utahime won’t do shit, so why don’t we speak?” 

Utahime ground her teeth and positioned herself next to you. “I don't know what the fuck you want, Naoya. But get out of here.”

“I just want to talk.” He said smirking. “Did you come as Utahime’s plus one?” He questioned. “That seems unlikely… oh.” He gasped. “Don’t tell me you came with the Gojo kid?” 

You frowned. “That doesn't matter to you.”

He laughed. “So yeah…” He scratched his chin. “Did you just jump on him like the bitch you are?”

You could feel the gazes of those present rest on you. Your breathing began to accelerate and unlike in class, where you had behaved calmly and had ignored what they said about you, you couldn't there. You felt enormous helplessness.

“Gojo probably needed somewhere warm to stick his…”

“Naoya! Shut up!” Utahime shouted out. 

Utahime's voice only caused the stares to grow and your nervousness to increase. You had wanted to go unnoticed, to go there to support Satoru, but now…

“What? It’s the truth… Rumors say that he likes to sleep around.” He smirked. ““He probably saw it as easy to get under the dress of a poor thing like her.” She took one of the glasses from her and took a sip. “Who would want to date a woman like her? Two jobs, scholarship, living in a one-room apartment, abandoned by her father, dead mother.”

“You stupid piece of…!” Utahime tried to slap him but you held her hand.

“Utahime… no.” 

You didn't want to cause any more fuss, you didn't want it to escalate any further. You squeezed Utahime's hand tightly, feeling like tears had begun to fall.

Why?

Why are you crying?

You weren’t the type to cry, you could hold yourself pretty well but right there, you were feeling every emotion possible. You were ashamed of what Naoya was saying, ashamed because everyone was looking and hearing those words. You didn’t want Satoru to have bigger burdens, he already had enough dealing with his family matters, you didn’t want now for him to be pointed out for dating someone like you. 

Without realizing, you started to shake, as if you were out in the cold of a winter night. Utahime quickly noticed it and stood next to you, trying to calm you. 

“Naoya you better leave or I will make sure they kick you out of here.” Utahime said loudly. 

Time began to distort around you and when your mind reconnected you felt a familiar warmth next to you, a relaxing caress and safe eyes.

Present time

“That’s it…” You whispered, waiting for Satoru to say something or do anything, but his silence was killing you. “I’m so sorry…”

“Why are you saying that?” Then he spoke with a harsher tone than the one he usually used, one that made you feel intimidated.

“I… I caused a fuss.” 

He moved in the bed and positioned himself in front of you. “Listen.” He said your name while holding your hands. “You didn’t cause a fuss, Naoya and Naoya alone did it, okay?” You looked at him. “Please love, tell me you understand.” He raised his hand to your cheek. 

Your stomach turned as you heard that word from his lips again, “love”. The way he had said it, on both occasions, made you lose all sense of the world and make you feel dizzy. God, you loved that man and you didn't want to let him go, you didn't want to lose him for anything in the world.

Satoru's eyes widened, panic showing in them. "What happened? Why are you crying?" He said, wiping away the tears that had wet your cheeks.

“I love you.” You said and you noticed Satoru’s surprise look on his face. “I love you ‘Toru and I am so afraid… I am afraid of losing what it’s starting, I don’t want to lose you, lose us.” You hugged him. “I was so afraid, because I don’t know your world and… everyone was looking and I thought… what if his family finds out about who I am about my family.” 

You stopped talking, to hug him even more, if that was even possible. “And I felt so small, so vulnerable. I didn’t want to cause a scene, I didn’t want to be a burden to you.”

Satoru broke the hug and cradled your face, he kissed your tears. "Don't say that." He told you in a whisper. “You would never be a burden to me.” He emphasized the words “never” and then placed a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you." He whispered. 

Satoru wrapped his arms around you while caressing your back and kissing your head, it felt good, very good. You would like to stay that way forever, to feel his warmth, his love, for all of it to invade you.

“You wanna take a bath?” He whispered.

“With bubbles?” You looked at him. 

Satoru chuckled and smiled. “If you want it that way, I will do it.”

“Thank you…” You kissed his lips. 

“Anything for you my love.” He kissed you. 

The cold caught you as soon as Satoru left you, even though you were wrapped in a blanket you felt his absence. You watched from the bed as Satoru prepared the bathroom, he was still wearing his suit pants and his white shirt. He looked so good. 

“I can feel you staring.” Satoru looked at you from over the shoulder. 

“I was just thinking that my boyfriend looks so good right now.” You said.

“Well my girlfriend looks better, she was stunning tonight, a real queen, a goddess.” He walked up to the bed and placed his arms on either side of your head. “The bath is ready…” He whispered against your lips.

 “Will you bathe with me?” You asked him. “I want to do it like in the movies, to cuddle and relax.”

“Of course.” 

You stood up from the bed and took off your clothes, you didn’t mind anymore. Satoru did the same, although you weren't embarrassed to strip naked in front of him because he had already seen and touched every part of you, it was still hard not to feel nervous when you looked at him. Turning your head, you walked to the bathtub and got into it, so that a few seconds later Satoru got in with you behind you.

He leaned down and his lips gently brushed against your shoulder before he began to rub your back. The touch was tender but deliberate, each stroke of the sponge carrying a silent intimacy that seemed to envelop you both. In the tranquility of that moment, the closeness between the two of you felt palpable, as if the outside world had become insignificant, as if it had been erased and only you and Satoru existed. You could feel the warmth of him against your skin, his soft breath against your neck.

You wanted that moment of intimacy to last forever. To keep it in your mind and in your soul. 

“Babe you are going to fall asleep.”

A new nickname, how many did he have to keep calling you? But now you didn't care, you liked them, every one of them from birdie to my love, all of them.

“It’s just… it feels so good.” You closed your eyes, letting everything invade you.

“I’m so glad…” He whispered against your skin. 

You could feel his hot breath against your wet skin, how your skin bristled under that warm breath. Satoru placed wet kisses on your shoulder, while he continued soaping your body, treating you like you were royalty, a queen.

“Okay… I think it is time for you to rest.” He moved behind you and got off the bath. 

“But…” You pouted.

“No buts.” He kissed your cheeks. “Let’s get ourselves dry and sleep okay?” 

That night you gave yourself completely, letting yourself be cared for and loved without reservation. Every word Satoru whispered and every soft touch of his fingers left a lasting imprint on your skin, etching itself into your heart and soul. 

The warmth of his body wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. It was an eerily familiar sensation, evoking memories of home, peace, and a deep sense of security.

The dream welcomed you like an old friend and in the arms of the one who had captivated your heart you managed to rest and let all worries go away.

When the first light of day began to filter through the large window of Satoru's room, your eyes stung, that light was annoying, you wanted to continue sleeping, dreaming of dreams that you would later forget. But as you turned to circle Satoru's torso, you found the cold sheets next to you. Your eyes snapped open and you looked around the room. But it was completely empty, there was no sign of him.

You got out of bed and walked to the kitchen in search of your white haired boy. A smile appeared on your lips when you saw him sitting in one of the seats on the island. He was wearing gray sweatpants, his torso was exposed and his hair was a mess.

With a slow step, trying not to let Satoru hear you, you approached him. When you were close enough to him, you wrapped your arms around him and let out a “bo!” causing him to get scared.

You smiled at him. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning.” He kissed you. “Did you sleep well?” 

“So good…” You closed your eyes, enjoying his hug. “You look good this morning.” You said looking at him.

“I know…” You rolled your eyes with a smile drawn on your face. “You liked this morning view princess?”

You bite your lip and nodded. “A lot.” 

You knocked your kiss together, feeling how this one was deeper and hotter than the one you just shared. 

Satoru ran his hands under your thighs and sat you down on the kitchen island, causing a small moan to escape your lips as the cold marble collided with your skin. He placed himself between your legs and began to draw drawings on your legs, while the kiss you shared was filled with passion and heat.

His hand began to go up until it got under the hem of the borrowed t-shirt that you had taken from him last night and his fingertips, hot like a burning fire, traced your abdomen, causing a soft but lustful sigh to escape from your lips.

“‘Toru…” You gasped as his hand started to go up on your body.

“What love don't you like it?” You saw his smirk, his blue eyes now dark with the desire that had settled in them.

Your head snapped back when you felt his fingers pinch your nipple. “Oh…”

Satoru grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, making you stick with your legs on either side of his body. Your body was beginning to burn under his touch, feeling how his hands began to explore your body.

“I love how good you look with this t-shirt on, but I need you without it.” He whispered against your ear, his soft, hot breath hitting you.

“Take it off…” You said under your breath.

Satoru clacked and he grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, taking it off and throwing it away. The difference in temperature between the environment and your body, which was almost on fire, was evident, and a chill ran down your spine. 

Your fingers tangled in his white hair and he began to kiss your neck and then your collarbone, biting and sucking on the places where his lips landed causing your body to react. 

His right hand pinched your nipple again and you pulled at his hair, feeling the arousal corrupt you. His tongue began to descend along the edge of your breasts until it reached your nipple, which was already swollen from the pinches that Satoru had not stopped giving it.

Your legs surrounded his hips at the same time his mouth sucked on your nipple, you were too excited, too hot. Your hips began to move instinctively, seeking friction with Satoru. You knew he probably was hard rock down there.

“F-uck…” Satoru trembled when you touched his boner.

“Sa-toru… please.” You said moving your hips again against his boner. 

You could feel his grip tighten and his shoulders tense with every movement you made begging him. The atmosphere had become fucking hot, your bodies were burning and you had begun to sweat, while your hot breaths had become disordered.

Satoru pulled away from you and began to pull down his sweatpants. “Get off and turn around.” Your skin crawled as you heard his husky voice and the authoritative tone he had used.

That turned you on even more. You got down off the island and got off your underwear, leaving you completely naked. You felt Satoru's hands on your hips, as his thumb gently traced circles on it. Even though the atmosphere was charged with lust and excitement, Satoru was still delicate and careful with his movements. 

You felt his breath hit your skin and instinctively arched your back and neck back against his bare torso. “You seem so needy?” He bit your shoulder and you pursed your lips. “Come on little bird, what do you want?” You hated that he hesitated like that, you hated it but at the same time you loved it.

“Sato-ru…” You heavily breathed. “I… need you.” 

He chuckled and his grip around your hips tightened. “That’s what you want? Huh? You want me inside of you?” 

You nodded. “Please ‘Toru…” You looked at him with crystallized eyes and you could see how the fire lit in his. 

“You're so fucking beautiful.” He said, smashing his lips against yours at the same time he entered you. 

The moan in your throat was drowned in the wet kiss you shared. One of Satoru's hands left your hip and began to move up your abdomen, burning every place his fingertips touched. His hand came up to your chin and he grabbed it, breaking the kiss.

“You are taking me so well princess.” He smirked and your nails dug into the island counter, feeling him move inside you.

“Ah…” You moaned as Satoru's hand landed on your neck and made you throw your head back.

Satoru was rough and his movements were strong and penetrating, each thrust he gave felt like it went deeper than the previous one, causing your eyes to rotate inside your skull.

His left hand surrounded your neck, while his right hand rested on your lower abdomen. His mouth laid on your ear as he moaned and said your name softly. You bit your lip feeling each thrust, you wanted to be able to turn around and dig your nails into his skin, but you had to settle for being that way.

In the place only your gasps could be heard, mixed with the clash of your naked skin. 

You could feel how Satoru had grown more confident than the first night you spent together. You enjoyed that night, you couldn't deny it, Satoru had made you reach orgasm and he had made you feel like a queen but you had felt that he wasn't letting go completely, that he was holding back on you. But at that moment? Oh no, at that moment he was making you feel everything.

“Fuck baby!” He said deep inside of you. “I need to see your pretty face.” 

You protested when it came out of you, you wanted more, you wanted everything. Satoru grabbed your hips and turned you around, so that you were both face to face. His face was agitated, his hair on his forehead and cheeks were crimson red. 

Without letting you breathe for long, he grabbed your legs and put them on his hips and then entered again. You stifled a scream and buried your nose in his neck, it was the first time you were doing it in that position.

“C’mon babe, let me see your face.” He said as he moved his hips.

You looked at with tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. “Oh Satoru!” You tightened your grip on his shoulders as he moved in and out of you. “Fuck…”

“That’s my girl, taking me so well, doing that beautiful face.” He said biting your bottom lip and then kissing you. 

He came out of you again and you felt how you moved around the room and then sat on the couch. 

“Baby, do you know what I want you to do?” You looked at him through your tears and nodded.

You took his member in your hand and gently lined it up with your entrance and then let yourself fall into it. Your entire body reacted, with that position you felt bigger and deeper. Satoru raised his hands and began to massage your breasts, pinching your nipples while you moved your hips seeking orgasm.

Satoru’s face was red and his eyes were so dark, full of desire and pleasure, and completely focus on your chest as you were riding him. You grabbed his face and kissed him, in a burning kiss thirsty for pleasure, accelerating your movements even more.

“Fuck babe.” He mumbled. “I’m gonna cum…” He squeezed his eyes shut.

You let out a moan, you had come all over him and your entire body was vibrating and leaving you without energy. Satoru pulled out of you and took off the condom masturbating a bit more, cuming on your abdomen.

Neither of you moved, your chests rose and fell and you rested your body on his, closing your eyes and resting.

“You were…” You began. “So rough.” 

“You didn’t like it?” He said, and you were able to hear a hint of concern in his voice.

You shook your head. “I love it. You were rough but gentle.” You looked at him.

He sighed with relief and smiled. “I'm glad, I thought you didn't enjoy it.” He kissed your lips. 

“We're all sweaty…” You whispered against his lips. 

“Yes, we should shower.” You nodded. “Round two?” He asked. 

“Were you not satisfied?” You asked. 

“Oh yes I was, but I will always need more of you.” 

You couldn't help but laugh when Satoru started kissing and making ribs all over your body, so much so that you felt your belly hurt from laughing so much. After that you both took a shower and yes, there was one more round and in the afternoon you spent watching movies and to your surprise, Satoru was more emotional than you had thought, since you couldn't help but cry after watching La La Land. 

When the sky began to turn orange and pink, Satoru took you back home. He had insisted that you stay the night but you had no clothes, only the dress from the party and the giant sweatpants and t-shirt that he wore. Satoru had lent you. So at the door of Kyoko's house you said goodbye with a tender kiss, wishing to see each other again the next day.

As soon as you stepped inside the house Kyoko appeared and rushed to you with a huge smile drawn on her face.

“Who was it?” She asked. “Did you enjoy the night? You looked like an absolute princess.” She smiled. 

You bit your lip, remembering the night, you couldn't keep hiding the fact that you had seen Naoya and you couldn't pretend like nothing had happened either. Kyoko quickly noticed your look of circumstance and the smile on her face disappeared.

“Something happened right?” You nodded. “Okay let’s talk about it.”

“Yeah…” 

Kyoko took the dress from your hand and you both headed to her room, where you sat face to face.

“Did something happen with Satoru's family?” She asked first.

You shook your head. “Not at all… I only met his grandparents but they were nice.” You told her. “No… the thing is that I… I met Naoya there.” 

Kyoko looked at you, as if she was holding her breath.The more she looked at you, the more nervous you became, you felt every inch of your being speed up and your breathing become more and more erratic. You knew what she would say and you knew how she would react when she found out you had met at the club.

“Oh…” She finally said. “Did he do something?! Did he try something?”

You sighed. “He was his usual disgusting self.” You looked at her. “And he said some mean things, but… doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. If it affected you it does matter.” She held your hands.

“Utahime was there and then I talked about everything with Satoru, so it’s alright.” You smiled trying to calm her down.

“You are sure?” She questioned.

“I’m sure…” You looked at her. “There is something else, I never told you this but… I also met him at the club that time.” 

Kyoko opened her mouth. “What?!” 

“Kyoko, relax please.” You tried to calm her down. 

“No, no, you are telling me that asshole appeared there and… wait was when you got hurt on your wrist?” You avoided her gaze. “Was him?!” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” 

“Because you were going to get worried and it was pointless, besides you were having a good night I didn’t want to ruin that for you.” 

She sighed, obviously mad. “I don’t understand why you would do that. I’m your best friend, if you get hurt I will obviously get mad and want to kill someone, especially that someone.” 

“Well… sorry okay?” You whispered. “But… I just…”

“Stop, don’t say it was nothing or that I didn’t deserve to be worried because that’s something I decide.” She looked at you. “Next time, I don’t care what it is, I don’t care, you must tell me. Alright?” 

You felt your eyes getting teary and nodded. “Yeah… I will.” 

Kyoko hugged you and you let yourself be enveloped by her essence and warmth, closing your eyes on her chest. You stood there in silence for a while and then resumed your casual conversation. Before you knew it, your conversation had gone on for longer than expected and you knew that tomorrow you would wake up with dark circles under your eyes.

That week you spent it between Kyoko's house and Satoru's. Your boyfriend insisted on picking you up from work and that you stay the night with him. You didn’t mind, you actually liked spending time with him, the quality time both of you were creating was comforting. 

But spending more time with Satoru didn't stop you from spending time with your friends, and you also found time to be with Kyoko and now your extended group, which also included Shoko and Utahime.

You couldn't wait for the weekend you would spend with Satoru in Kamakura, and show him the place where you were raised.

Your only hope for one thing, that made your heart feel in your mouth.

Everything needed to be okay, you just wanted that.

notes: bit of nsfw content before the things that will happen in the future, hehehe

— comment if you want to be tagged

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[tessa-liam]

Life Goes On

Marabelle Series

Chapter 15 – Part 2

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU – (cross-over with Rules of Engagement)

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?

Marabelle Series Masterlist, My Complete Masterlist

Main Pairing – Crown Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson

Most characters belong to Choices/Pixelberry Studios

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, drinking, crude language & innuendo, gun violence

Many thanks to @selina012 for pre-reading.

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff/cross-over with Choices Rules of Engagement

Chapter Summary – Liam returns home to Cordonia to find Sophie and to address his nation about the university terror attack.

Music & Title Inspiration: Life Goes On, Ed Sheeran, Luke Combs; Run To You, Lucy Thomas

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother.

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events.

A/N3: Heartfelt thanks to @Selina012 for joining me in writing ideas and with dialogue/content for this chapter and series.

Aboard the Royal jet, Rashad peered outside the window and took in the white sands of Cordonia's shores passing by. Suddenly his ears popped, and the pilot spoke over the intercom, announcing the estimated arrival time was in 5 minutes. He felt nervous and helpless and could not help but repeat his fears in his mind: ‘There hasn't been any good news’.

Drake watched Liam walk away from his seat, his hand curled around a glass tumbler filled with an expensive scotch. He wondered if they would hear news before they landed. Remembering his best friend's emotional spiral downward after the past assassination attempt three years ago at the palace; this had the makings of that same pattern. This time though, Drake was not going to leave Liam alone.

The dire problem of not having any clues where Sophie was at the moment was suffocating.

As they waited to land, the minutes seemed to draw out. There was not much he or any of Liam's guards could do but wait and prepare to offer the crown prince their full support.

Liam finished off his scotch, the fiery liquid barely registering, and tried to review the notes for his upcoming address to his nation in his head while stepping into his private suite onboard.

There had still been no update on his beloved Sophie's whereabouts or circumstances.

He took a deep, long breath and turned to Bastien walking next to him with unmistakable determination. "Bastien, contact the security team back home immediately. I need all the current details on the scene and an update on the rescue operations."

Bastien sprang into action, calling the security team leader and putting him on speakerphone so that Liam could hear the conversation in real time. Captain Sean Wilson answered the call.

"Captain, this is Crown Prince Liam Rys, requesting an update on the incident at the University of Cordonia." Liam's voice came through the phone speaker, clear and strong.

"Your Highness, the situation at the scene is complicated and we have deployed additional rescue teams to help facilitate the speedy rescue and recovery process.”

The captain’s voice was tired but remained professional. "We have confirmation that multiple students have been injured in the shooting. We have increased security three-fold around the campus and are working diligently to track down the suspects."

Liam's fists clenched involuntarily, but he remained stoic as he continued. "I need a complete list of all the known casualties. I want to know about each and every one."

"Your Highness, we have established a comprehensive emergency response mechanism. At present, we are compiling the information and rescue teams are working at full ability. The list of casualties is being urgently collated, and I will send it to you via encrypted channels as soon as it is completed."

Liam nodded, and though he could not be seen, there was an unmistakable insistence in his tone: "I need this completed as soon as possible. In addition, please continue to strengthen the search and rescue efforts to ensure the safety of all students. At the same time, increase the manpower to hunt down the suspects and I demand that they be brought to justice in the shortest possible time."

Shortly after hanging up, the sound of an encrypted email rang on Liam's tablet, which he quickly clicked on; and displayed a list of known casualties on the screen as asked. There were fourteen people in the column of the dead, and dozens of names in the column of the injured. Liam took a deep breath and began to go through the list of names, one by one, each name like a sharp blade, stabbing at his heart. He searched carefully, afraid to miss any possible detail. But until the end, he did not find Sophie's name.

Liam clenched his fists, his eyes shining with unshakeable determination. "Bastien, as soon as the jet lands, we will go to the scene and assess the situation personally.”

Bastien, at once responded: "Yes, Your Highness. I will ensure that everything is in place."

Liam turned his head to stare out the window at the clouds; his heart was in turmoil. Although Sophie's name did not appear on the list of casualties, his fears did not diminish. He knew that the lack of news did not mean that Sophie was necessarily safe. That she might still be struggling, or that for some reason she might not be able to communicate with the outside world. He had to ensure that Sophie was safe personally.

Thinking of this, he took out his phone and touched Sophie’s number with trembling fingers. But all he heard on the other end of the line was a cold, robotic voice: 'Sorry, the number you are trying to reach is unavailable.'

Sending a text, he carefully tapped every letter, as he expressed his worries and thoughts.

'Love, please call me as soon as you get this message. I'm worried about you.'

___

'Where are you? Are you safe? Why can't I reach you?'

___

'I'm already on my way back to Cordonia. Please wait for me. Please.'

As the minutes ticked by, the 'unread' message on the screen was an ironic and cruel reminder of the futility of all his efforts.

Frustrated, he then tried to call Sophie's aunt and then sent a text message to Maxwell. 'Max, are you okay? Where are you? Have you heard from Sophie?'

Shortly after, his phone vibrated and Liam checked the text immediately .... only to see Maxwell reply,

"Liam, me and Daniel are at the Malic Hotel now, we're all right. But Sophie got separated in the confusion!!!!😢 I have been trying to reach her without success. I'm really worried about her.'

Receiving this update, Liam, although still anxious, was also relieved that Maxwell felt safe. He immediately replied: "Max, good to hear you're okay. Please keep in touch, I'll be back as soon as I can, and we'll find Sophie together."

Liam then picked up his phone again and sent a text message to Sophie's Aunt Bethany:

'Duchess Bethany, this is Liam. How are you? Have you heard from Sophie? I am very concerned for her safety.'

A few minutes later, Bethany replied to his message: 'Your Highness, I'm fine, but Sophie hasn't been heard from since the ceremony. I am also anxiously awaiting her contact. Please try to not worry, I'm sure she will be all right'

Liam's heart sank to rock bottom as he closed his eyes, silently praying that she would be found safe and unharmed. At the same time, he also felt a deep sorrow for all the innocent victims of the attack. He understood as crown prince, he had the responsibility and obligation, along with his father, to ensure the security of the country and its people. This attack was an acute test of his leadership.

University of Cordonia, Capital

As Sophie wandered aimlessly through the maze of people, her eyes welled up. The adrenaline of an earlier escape from the auditorium faded and she felt more sadness, fear and heartache than she had ever felt before. For a moment, she could not control her emotions and tears ran down her cheeks. How she wished it all had been a bad dream, that she would wake up and find that it had all been a false alarm.

An hour later, Sophie and other surviving students and guests were evacuated in an orderly manner to a hotel outside of the campus, the Malic Hotel. The hotel was temporarily requisitioned as an emergency shelter and was surrounded by police and security personnel to ensure internal safety and order. But even so, there was an indescribable tension and unease still in the air.

Sophie had been assigned to room 302. The moment she stepped into her hotel room; Sophie could finally catch her breath. She sat wearily on the edge of the bed, looking out of the window with empty eyes, but her mood could not be calmed. She was eager to know more about what happened at the graduation, especially the mysterious men in black masks, their identity, purpose and why they were there; all of these became lingering questions in her mind.

She instinctively wanted to turn on her phone, hoping to find some clue or news report that would at least give her a sense of what had happened. But reality threw icy water at her - her phone screen was broken and riddled with cracks. She quickly pressed the power button, but the screen only flickered a few times, and then no longer responded. Sophie's eyes flashed with despair, as her contact with the outside world was completely cut off.

Thoughts came like a flood. She missed her Aunt Bethany, who supported her no matter what she was going through, who gave her endless warmth and encouragement, and who always made her feel at home in Cordonia. At the same time, she missed her horse, Marabelle. Every time she mounted Marabelle's back and galloped across the wide fields of Ramsford, all her troubles seemed to go away with the wind. Marabelle's eyes were always full of trust and loyalty, and there was a tacit understanding between them without words. How she wished now that she could feel the freedom and joy of running with Marabelle again.

But most of all, she missed Liam. In this unknown and dangerous moment, how she wished he could be with her, give her support and comfort. Liam, the man she was in love with, who gave her strength. She had never been so impatient to see him, to feel safe in his arms.

Now, however, she could only face all this alone; tears in her eyes had slipped down once again. In addition to missing Liam, Sophie's mind was filled with anxiety about the attack. She did not know how many people had been injured or even killed in the attack; whether Candy and Tom would get better, or what was going on with Maxwell and Daniel. They were her friends and family, and their safety stuck with her. She prayed silently that they would be safe.

Amidst this anxiety, there was so many questions. Who were those men in black at the graduation? Why would they target innocent students? What is the purpose behind this attack?

What puzzled her even more was the emblem of the earth and the baby. What does it mean? What has it got to do with the attack?

Her mind was full of confusion and uneasiness, questions swirled with no answers in sight, leaving her breathless. She tried to piece together every detail of the night in her mind, hoping to remember a clue or an answer. But the images were fragmented, leaving her unable to grasp and put together any useful information.

"Liam ..." Sophia muttered under her breath. She recalled what Liam had said about what he had experienced as a young prince and the memories of an assassination attempt that had fear cutting through his heart like a sharp blade.

Exhaustion came flooding in, overwhelming all her thoughts and feelings. Sophie lay in bed, breathing smoothly and deeply, and her body relaxed, as if all her worries and pain had been temporarily released at that moment. She drifted off to sleep with all her doubts, uneasiness, sadness, and longing for Liam.

The Royal Palace, Cordonia

The press was relentless. Inside the throne room, King Constantine stood stoically, as members of the press core demanded answers about the campus attack. Constantine cleared his throat and addressed the press directly and with the assurance of his years of reign and released a statement:

“At this dark hour, I stand before you with profound grief and pain in my heart. Like many of you, I am mourning the lives lost today, and we pray for the wounded to make a full recovery.

While we grieve the senseless violence that struck our country, we are also furious with the loss and sorrow brought on by those responsible for this evil act. We cannot and will not tolerate the murder and harming of innocent lives simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Those who commit such unspeakable acts will be held accountable and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the crown.”

Stepping down from the dais, Constantine was at once escorted by his royal guard out of the throne room. He looked visibly shaken and gripped his cane, trying to stand straight and upright.

Constantine's face was pale, and his eyes were filled with deep sorrow, his elderly face looked worn. But he refused to shed tears, still maintaining his dignified manner, while in public.

Lawrence, his personal guard, moved quickly to his side, “Your Majesty, the Royal jet has just landed with your son.”

Malic Motor Hotel, temporary safe house, University of Cordonia

The second group of surviving students were transported to the Malic hotel in orderly batches by the police in the pre-dawn night. The bright lights in the lobby could not hide the tension and in these in the air. Police officers, security personnel and medical staff were busy shuttling through the hallways to ensure that every student was properly accommodated.

The noise of footsteps and a murmur of conversation broke the sounds of the night. Sophie woke up, opened her eyes slightly, and through a gap in the half-closed curtains. She saw several figures hurrying along the corridor, as if new survivors had been brought in. She got up and dressed. Soon the door was gently opened, and a figure slowly entered the room. It was a girl about Sophie's age, a little wobbly in her step, visibly shaken by the night's horror and still reeling from the shock.

"Hey, um ... excuse me. I was assigned to this room. Is it okay if I come in?" The girl's voice was small and trembling, and her eyes were slightly timid.

Sophie at once stood up and smiled back, "Hello, come on in." The girl came closer, and Sophie could see her face. She had an East Asian face, long deep brown hair, and large black eyes full of fear and confusion, as if she had just woken up from a nightmare.

The girl said softly, "thank you, my name is Hana. What happened tonight was terrible ..."

Sophie took Hana's hand and sat her down on the edge of the bed. "Hi Hana, my name is Sophie. I know we have been through the same horror. But it is all right now. We can talk together and maybe it will make you feel better." Sophie tried to sound calm and friendly, hoping to bring some comfort to the girl.

Hana gave Sophie a grateful look, and took a deep breath. She began with great determination to recount her own experience at the graduation.

"I was with friends and all of a sudden the lights went out and they were gunshots ... I tried to run away, but there were screams and chaos all around me. I really don't know how I got out. I was taken to the stadium with some people and stayed there almost overnight until we were brought here. But I never saw my friends again. I got separated from them, I do not know what became of them..." Hana wiped tears from her eyes.

Sophie listened quietly, with a surge of sympathy and understanding. She thought of her friends Candy and Tom, and her cousin Maxwell and Daniel, and a pang of worry filled her heart.

"Hana, I've had my own friends injured and go missing too. Candy's arm was hit by shrapnel, Tom was shot in the shoulder, and they are both in the hospital; and Maxwell and Daniel got separated from me when they escaped. I am really worried about them. But I'm sure they will be all right. Your friends must have gotten out safely, too. You must believe that."

Hana's eyes flashed with emotion and trust as she listened to Sophie's words. "Sophie, you are such a strong person. If only I could be as brave as you."

Sophie patted Hana's arm gently and smiled wryly.

"Hana, it's normal to be afraid in this situation. In fact, I am also afraid, and all the people who have been through this attack."

Then Sophie's tone became a little heavier, and she decided to tell Hana what she had seen. With that, Sophie picked up the paper and pen on the table in the room and drew the sign from memory. Hana's face turned pale when she saw Sophie's drawing; her eyes widened, and she repeated in disbelief, "you saw this sign?"

Sophie nodded, her words unmistakable, "Yes, I'm sure. It was a very strange sign. I saw it clearly. They acted quickly and in an orderly manner. They were not ordinary thugs."

Hana held Sophie's hand tightly, her voice shaking slightly. "This sign, I have seen on the news, but with what specific event, I can't remember. However, it is definitely unusual and must be the hallmark of an organisation or group."

Sophie's eyes sharpened, and she frowned in thought. "This is no coincidence. The men in black were clearly prepared, and their attack may well have been targeted. We must tell the police about this as soon as possible.”

Hana shuddered, her voice filled with fear and worry. "But... will that put us in danger? If they are really that powerful, will they retaliate?"

Sophie's heartrate quickened. Of course she was afraid. The scene of Candy and Tom being shot and wounded replayed again before her eyes. The blood staining their shirts, the pain and helplessness weaving in their desperate eyes. These were images that she could never forget.

Then, in her mind, the panic of people running away, their faces showing fear and helplessness. Screams, cries, and pleas for help made up the most tragic symphony of the night. Fires were burning, the smoke was billowing, and the whole evening was enveloped in despair and confusion.

But thinking of the students who had been victimized, of Maxwell and Daniel who were still missing, and of Candy and Tom who were still in the hospital ... Sophie took a deep breath and quieted her heart. She could not let her fear consume her. She knew that her friends needed her. ... 'If you do not step up, Sophie, this kind of tragedy will happen again.'

Sophie stiffened her resolve, her voice was soft, yet powerful: "No, Hana, we cannot stay quiet. Candy, Tom, and your friends are just some of the many people who were hurt tonight. If we stay silent because we are afraid, more people will be hurt in the future. We can't let this continue to happen."

Hana's fear was replaced by a kind of courage as she listened to Sophie's words. "You're right, Sophie. I won't back down," She nodded firmly.

"Sophie, I'm so happy to meet you." Hana looked sheepishly at Sophie, blushing.

"If it wasn't for you, I don't know what I would have done."

She touched Hana's arm and smiled, "I know you have determination, too, Hana." Sophie was genuinely happy ... happy to be friends with Hana.

Sophie hesitated for a moment, then whispered to Hana, "Hana,can you show me the news? My phone broke during the attack." She pulled out her cracked cell phone.

Hana nodded, and picked up her phone from the nightstand to open the news app. Together, they stared at the small screen, searching for news related to last night's university shooting.

On the screen, several shocking reports soon came into view. The mass shooting at the University of Cordonia had attracted widespread attention from the national and international community. The report detailed the chaos and bloodshed of the night, but also said that the police were fully investigating the incident and promised to bring the perpetrators to justice as soon as possible. As she read, she felt mixed feelings.

Sophie continued browsing. Suddenly, a marked headline hit her eyes and made her heart beat faster. --

"Crown Prince Liam Rys urgently ends his visit to Italy and returns home to respond to the shooting incident at Cordonia University."

She tapped eagerly; the live broadcast of the news began automatically.

On the screen, Liam stood in the doorway of the familiar white, shadowy auditorium, behind which the smoke had not fully cleared and live images of ambulances and police cars could be seen. Liam's figure stood unwavering behind press microphones.. He wore a black suit, his eyes were slightly solemn, but his face was more resolute and decided, that could not be ignored.

Sophie stared intently at the screen, every subtle expression of Liam tugging at her heartstrings. His voice came clearly over the phone, calm and strong.

Sophie's eyes were red and brimmed with tears. Her heart was racing, as she felt Liam's deep emotion coming through the screen. And then Liam's words turned to unquestioning determination:

Sophie stared at the screen, her tears spilling onto her cheeks. The moment she heard him say the words, 'Our Cordonian family', her heart swelling with indescribable excitement and pride; she wanted to run to his side and face all of this with him. However, this emotion was quickly overcome by reason, knowing that she could not expose her relationship with Liam, especially when there were other people around watching. She gently turned down the volume on the phone for fear that Hana would notice her emotional reactions. She clutched the phone tightly, as if she could feel Liam's presence and power in her hand.

"Sophie, what's wrong?"

Hana's voice sounded softly, interrupting her thoughts. Sophie suddenly came back to herself with a disguised smile, trying to sound natural. "Oh, nothing, I just didn't expect Prince Liam to be back so soon, it's only been a few hours since the shooting."

There was a subtle tremor in Sophie's words, afraid that her mind would be read by Hana and cause unnecessary trouble for Liam. She knew that at this particular moment she had to be careful not to reveal her relationship with Liam.

"Hana, could I possibly use your phone again? I want to send a text to my family and tell them about my situation."

Hana heard her words, a flicker of concern in her eyes. She seemed aware of Sophie's inner struggle and longing, but out of respect and trust, she did not ask any more questions, just smiled and nodded, "Of course, Sophie." You can use it whenever you need."

Sophie gave Hana a grateful look, and a warm wave came through her heart. She quickly opened the text messages on the phone, her fingers jumping over the keyboard, as she sent two messages. The first one to Aunt Bethany and the second one to Maxwell. In the text messages, Sophie told them that she was doing well and that they should not worry. She expressed concern for Maxwell and Daniel and hoped they were safe.

After sending the two texts, Sophie took a deep breath and began her text to Liam. She edited the text carefully ...

"Hi, Li, this is Sophie.

I'm all right. I am in Room 302 at the Malic Hotel at the university.

There was a shooting at the graduation, and I was lucky to escape. My phone is broken, and now I'm texting you on my roommate, Hana's phone.

I know you must be terribly busy and worried at the moment, but please believe me, I am fine and safe.

Don't worry about me. Just focus on what's needed right in front of you. I love you and look forward to seeing you soon."

The message didn't mention Liam's real name, and Sophie was confident that he would get her message. After pressing the send button, the words "Delivered" appeared on the screen. Suppressing her feelings, she quickly removed the text message, making sure it left no trace.

It didn’t take long for Sophie to hear back from Maxwell and Aunt Bethany.

Maxwell:

“Sophie, it’s so good to hear from you! Daniel and I are at the Malic Hotel too, and we are doing fine. We were looking for you, too. Just relieved to hear you are okay. We’ll talk more when we meet up.”

Aunt Bethany:

“Dear Sophie, I’m so happy to hear from you! Thank God you are okay. We are all so worried about you, but now we can relax. Be safe and we will see each other soon.”

After receiving notifications of incoming messages, the corners of her mouth cannot help but raise in a happy smile, a big stone in her heart finally fell to the ground. Sophie held the phone and re-read their loving words, feeling the warmth and support from her family.

A ray of sunlight penetrated a gap in the curtain and gently spilled into the hotel room, shining on Sophie's face. She gently closed her eyes, quietly feeling the warmth of the sun, the soft light made her very at ease, like a pair of warm hands, smoothing her fear and anxiety away. She was relieved that Maxwell and Daniel had escaped safely and that she could tell Aunt Bethany about herself.

And Liam will know that she's safe. Sophie found a trace of comfort and strength in reaching out to him.

"Thank you, Hana." Sophie smiled and handed the phone back to her new friend.

Hana took the phone and put it away, quietly watching it all, with a warm glow in her eyes. She may not know the story between Sophie and Liam, but she could sense that there was a deep emotion and connection with him in Sophie's heart. In this time of uncertainty, they were supporting each other and facing life's challenges together.

Cordonia International Airport

The Royal motorcade was situated on the tarmac in wait to take Liam and his men to the university.

Liam strode quickly and confidently to his SUV after his security detail had provided Liam with a report of all the victims and fatalities. Sophie's name was not listed, and Liam's heart remained uncertain, until he saw her with his own eyes.

His duty of keeping alert and informed for his country allowed Liam to control his fears of the possibility of seeing his beloved injured or worse. He fought against every fiber of his being to not burst through the chaos, with full disregard, to search for Sophie among the evacuated students. Liam, surrounded by his royal guard, Drake and Rashad, he walked onto the university grounds.

Drake, on the other hand, was not worried about propriety and cared for none of it. He rushed in and did not pay attention to anything but finding Sophie and Maxwell. He broke past some of the law enforcement and was met by a swarm of flashing cameras and press microphones.

"Back away!" He snapped, having to put his forearm up, and not relent. The flashing bulbs, whirring of camera lenses and questions being thrown at him was enough to drive any sane person mad.

"Don't you have decency? What type of scoundrels and fiends are you?"

An officer who recognized Drake, yelled, "settle down, everyone, he's an American friend of the prince's, stand down and don't crowd him."

On the campus of the University of Cordonia, even after several hours had passed, the chaos in the auditorium had not abated by a minute. Several police cars and ambulances, flashing their warning lights, stood by the side of the road at the ready. Police officers and ambulance workers were busy moving around the scene, serious and focused, although physically and mentally exhausted, but still stuck to their posts, to deal with the incident.

A police cordon has been placed around the scene to seal off the auditorium from the outside world. Liam saw the chaos and destruction ... and the despair of his people.

Liam took a deep breath, adjusted his emotions, and walked resolutely into the crowd and up onto the raised dais. The crowd grew quiet, and all eyes turned to the crown prince.

" Last night, our university campus has experienced an unprecedented trauma. On behalf of the royal family of Cordonia, I extend my sincere comfort and deepest condolences to all those who have been hurt and who have been affected by this tragedy. Your pain is the pain of all Cordonia. We will do everything possible to provide the necessary support and needed assistance to make sure everyone gets through this."

At this point, Liam's eyes flashed a subtle tenderness, that is his endless miss and love for Sophie.

But Liam took a deep breath and condensed his emotions and anger into a powerful determination.

"We will not sit idly by and let go of any of these terrorists. I promise that the Crown will use all resources in its power to track down the attackers and punish those responsible for this tragedy. We will bring justice to the victims, and to our people, to our Cordonian family."

***

The sky in the east gradually lightened as the night slowly faded; like the tide falling, as if in response to his words. A ray of dawn pierced the darkness, and the sun rose at last. The golden light slowly and gently spread over the campus, silently dispelling the darkness and cold; to bring a touch of warmth to the morning. There was renewed trust and hope in the eyes of the crowd. At this moment, they are silently praying, their hearts are full of deep hope: may such a tragedy never be repeated, so that the dead can rest in peace, and so that the living can find the strength to move forward; In the hope that the murderer will be punished, and there will be no hiding places of any crimes and evils.

As the Royal guard escorted Liam from the stage, Bastien approached with Liam’s mobile phone in hand.

“Sir, Lady Sophia has left you a message.”

Thanks for reading ❣️

@choicesficwriterscreations

@selina012

📌tags in the comments, please let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[dfortrafalgar]

Envious

Law x OC

Law is caught red-handed being jealous over someone who isn't even his... yet.

A/N- i wrote this a few months ago specifically for my own OC! I attached a cringe reference pic of her at the bottom of this fic, and me being my own worst critic, i really need to redraw her better at some point LOL. crazy how much you can change after only a few months, but i digress. I'm sorry it's been taking me so long to work on requests, so in the meantime I'm going to go back to posting some things that have been sitting in my google docs not yet published to here. thank you all for your patience!!!

Law was a calm man.  He was a level-headed man.  He thought before he spoke, meticulously planning every moment of his life down to the most minute details.  He was stone-faced, unmoving, unwavering.

And yet, he sat at the table in the Polar Tang’s galley, a coffee mug gripped so hard in his hands his knuckles were white, as his sharp, golden eyes stared across the room from him.  His jaw was clenched as tight as a vice.

“Captain, what in the world is your problem?”  Across the table with a newspaper in his hands, was Penguin, who had finally taken notice of Law’s threatening aura in front of him.  Law didn’t respond to the question, instead continuing to stare daggers at whatever was in his direct line of sight.  Penguin placed the paper down, turning his head over his shoulder to follow Law’s vision.

In the common area directly across from the galley sat Bepo on the floor, rolled onto his side, mouth wide open as snores exited his nostrils at a rhythmic pace.  Nuzzled up impossibly close to the large polar bear was Ruža, boiler suit zipped down to her waist, sleeves tied around her hips as she instead used Bepo’s ample amount of fur as a space warmer.  Her long hair was tied into a tight bun.  She was sprawled out along Bepo’s belly, head resting under the bear’s chin, a content smile on her face as she dozed off within her crewmate’s comfortable heat.

Penguin turned back around to face Law, a devilish smirk crawling across his eyes.  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.  And of Bepo out of everyone!”

“Will you keep your voice down?” Law quipped back, voice hushed, yet harsh.  

His mate laughed at his captain’s behavior.  “Never took you for the possessive type.”

“I’m not possessive,” Law grumbled, finally releasing the death grip he had on his mug and instead using his hand to pull the brim of his hat downward, covering his eyes.

A hard thump resounded next to him as the bench of the table rattled.  “You sleep on Bepo all the time, and so does the rest of the crew.  Why is it a problem when Ruža does it?”  The new voice, Shachi, followed his statement by taking a generous bite out of the bread he had retrieved from the kitchen.

Penguin responded for Law.  “He wants to be the one on top of Ru–”

Law’s motions were quicker than lightning, reaching across the table, grabbing the discarded newspaper in his fist, and whacking Penguin over the head with it to shut him up.  The two men burst into a cacophony of laughter.  They both knew better than anyone that Law meant absolutely no harm with his actions, he just had difficulty expressing his emotions.  Extreme difficulty, at that.  The laughter from Shachi and Penguin was enough to wake the mink across the room and the girl sleeping against his fluffy chest.  Bepo yawned, forgetting about Ruža draped underneath him and sat up, causing her to startle awake.

“What’s all the noise for?  I was having a good dream,” Bepo uttered, sleep still heavy on his tongue.  

Beside him, Ruža sat up, stifling her own massive yawn.  She awkwardly got to her feet, unwrapping her sleeves from around her hips and re-buttoning her boiler suit.  She turned to face the three in the galley across the room from them, smiling at the sight of Shachi and Penguin covering their mouths in vain attempts to smother their laughter as Law sat hunched over, both hands now gripping his fluffy hat, pushing it so far down his face that the entire upper half was obscured, leaving just his clenched lips visible.

The woman turned to Bepo, helping the animal off the floor.  “Thank you for the wonderful nap, Bepo!”  She turned on her heel to exit the galley, refreshed and ready to continue her tasks for the day.  

Bepo finally approached the table, plopping himself down next to Penguin who was wiping tears from his obscured eyes.  “Seriously, why are you guys laughing?”

“Captain was jealous of you,” Shachi said, his mouth curled into a wide grin.  “Because Ruža was napping with you.”

“Aw, Captain, you should just tell her you want to nap with her!  I’m sure she’d say yes, she just likes to nap on me because I’m so fluffy and you’re so boney,” Bepo casually spurted, innocent beady eyes matching well with the wide, toothy smile on his muzzle.  Penguin almost spit his coffee out at the backhanded comment.

Law groaned, his head dropping into his arms, hat being shoved off his head.  “Thanks for the encouragement, Bepo.”

Shachi nonchalantly rubbed his captain’s back.  “There, there, big guy, it’s alright.”

“Uhm…”

A new voice alerted the four friends toward the opposite doorway to the galley.  The masked helmsman, Hakugan, awkwardly stood in the entranceway, using his upper body to hold the heavy steel door open.  “Captain, you’re needed in the bridge for a quick maintenance check.  Sorry if I’m… interrupting something.”

Law was on his feet, hat situated back on his head faster than the speed of light.  His hand grabbed his sword that was left leaning against the wall, leaving his half-empty coffee mug completely abandoned as he followed Hakugan out of the galley.

His three friends watched him go, knowing smiles on their faces.

“He’s totally in love with her,” Penguin sighed, dreamily.

“Why won’t he say anything, though?” Bepo’s question was innocuous enough.

“You know how bad he is with feelings.  He’d rather die than be vulnerable with anyone,” Shachi responded, dropping his chin into his hand.

The conversation quickly dissipated, and the three finished their drinks and food before scattering for their own afternoon work.

—

A few days had passed since Law got called possessive.  Jealous.

The raven-haired man was staring at himself in the mirror of the crew washroom, hands clutching the sides of the metal sink as he gazed into his own face.  He wasn’t jealous.  How could he be jealous of his best friend?  Everyone loved cuddling with Bepo, how couldn’t you?  Law wasn’t jealous.  He didn’t own Ruža, no one did, and he’d rather swallow hot coals than ever make her feel like she was stuck in that situation again.  He wasn’t jealous.  He wasn’t–

“Captain?”

Law jolted.  In the mirror’s reflection, the person he wanted to see the least was behind him, leaning against the open door.  Ruža’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern, blue eyes shooting daggers into his back.

“Ruža, sorry, I’ll get out of your way.”  Law quickly grabbed his hat from the countertop beside him, turning around to attempt to get out of the room as quickly as he possibly could, sans using his devil fruit (he didn’t want to look that pathetic).  

“Are you alright, Law?” Ruža gently grabbed at the sleeve of his coat as he passed her.  “You look feverish.”

Law couldn’t bear to bring his eyes to meet her bright ones.  His heart was hammering so wildly behind his ribcage that he was scared it might give out.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he muttered blankly, staring off into nothing.  He bit down the disappointment that he felt as Ruža’s hand fell from its grip on his clothing.

“Okay…” she replied, though clearly unconvinced.  “Let us know if you need any help with anything.”  She finally entered the washroom after him, going straight to the medicine cabinet to grab her toothbrush.

With her back to him, Law silently turned his head toward her.  His eyes landed on the tattoo still imprinted at the base of her neck, exposed by her tied-up hair, his saliva catching in his throat.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel trapped in this steel submarine she now called home, trapped with him.  She needed to be free.

But the smell of her shampoo lingering in the air after she passed him was making it very difficult for him to come to his senses, as not only himself, but as a captain.  Ducking his head, he finally took long strides away from the washroom.

—

“Ikkaku, have you noticed something wrong with Law lately?”  Ruža was hanging up her boiler suit on a hook on the wall, shedding her clothes from the day for something much more comfortable.  

Behind her, Ikkaku was changing into her own loungewear, tight, curly hair tied into two buns.  The two being the only women on the crew meant that they had the privilege of their own bunkroom, away from the 20-something other men that they lived with.  Ruža joining the crew made Ikkaku elated, excited to have not only a roommate, but a new girlfriend at that.  And the two of them sharing the privacy of their own room meant their more personal discussions stayed far away from the prying eyes of their crass male crewmates.

“Now that you mention it, he’s seemed pretty uptight lately,” Ikkaku murmured, wiping her face down with a damp cloth.

“I feel like I did something to make him upset, earlier I saw him in the washroom and he wouldn’t even look at me.”  Ruža’s voice was laced with discomfort, clearly sullen about the events from earlier in the day.

“What could you even have done?” Ikkaku asked, finally turning to face her friend.  The curly-haired woman already knew about the deep crush Ruža had on their stone-faced captain, being her only confidant in her emotional turmoil.  “You’ve never said or done anything bad to him before.”

“That’s what I’m wondering about!” Ruža responded with an exasperated huff.  “He’s impossible to read, and he never tells anyone what he’s thinking, so if I did do something to upset him he won’t tell me no matter how hard I pry.”

Ikkaku flopped face first into her mattress, rolling onto her side and watching as Ruža pulled a baggy shirt over her head.  “When did he start acting so off?”

“Uhm… a few days ago I think.”  The redhead sat on her own bed, falling onto her back and gazing dimly at the metallic ceiling above her.

“Did anything happen then?”

It took the blue-eyed woman a few minutes to think about the previous day’s events.  “I took a nap with Bepo in the common room a few days ago, and Shachi, Penguin, and Law were having a conversation that woke us up, and that’s when he started acting weird, I think.”

Ikkaku pondered intensely over her friend’s words.  Shachi and Penguin having a laugh at Law’s expense was nothing short of common on the Polar Tang, the two of them being Law’s closest friends but also his greatest annoyance.

Ruža’s voice piped up again.  “Maybe it was because I was napping during the day?”

“No, that can’t be it, Law naps on Bepo all the time so he’d be a hypocrite for getting mad at you over that,” Ikkaku responded.

“Maybe he wanted to nap with Bepo and I was in the way,” offered the red-head.

A light bulb suddenly flicked on within Ikkaku’s skull.  She sat up on her bed with a start, making Ruža jump in surprise.  Wide, brown eyes trained on startled blue ones.

“Maybe he was jealous that you were resting with Bepo and not him.”

It took Ruža a few moments to process her crewmate’s words.  “No, that can’t be it.”

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t like me that way!  I’m a crew member, a subordinate.  I’m nowhere close to his rank, and even then that’d be pushing his duty as a captain.”  Ruža was immediately on the defensive with a tight frown.  “As much as I want that to be the case, there’s no way that can be it.”

Ikkaku grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Who says?  Law’s not the kind of guy to keep himself above everyone, we’re all equal in this tin can.  Penguin and Shachi make out in the supply closet all the time and no one bats an eye.”

“Penguin and Shachi have been making out in supply closets since they were teenagers.  Their scenario is different.”  Ruža sat herself up now, leaning back on her hands.  After a few tense moments, she released a pent-up exhale.  “I really want Law to like me the way I like him, but it’s wishful thinking.  He’s not that kind of guy, and he definitely doesn’t seem like the kind of person to get jealous.”

Ikkaku hummed.  “I don’t know, I have an inkling.  But, I don’t know him as well as Bepo, Shachi, or Penguin do, so I feel like if you really want an answer, you’ll have to go through them.  Even if it’s not some cute lovey-dovey romance situation, they might at least be able to help you figure out what you did wrong, if anything.”

Ruža glanced off to the side.  “You’re right, probably.”

“Probably?!” Ikkaku gasped, feigning offense.  “I’m always right!”

This got Ruža to finally crack a tired smile, a breathy laugh leaving her lungs.  “Okay, yeah, you’re always right.”

Their conversations continued until the lights went out.  Instead of sleeping, however, Ruža was laid on her back, staring blankly at the dark ceiling above her head.  Her lips quivered nervously.

—

“Shachi,” a hushed whisper alerted the ginger man’s attention from his porthole washing.  He turned his head left, then right, searching for the source of the noise.  “Behind you, dummy,” the voice came again, from behind him.  He finally turned around, spotting the nervous expression of Ruža peeking from around the corridor.  

“Why are you acting like you’re spying?  Just get over here!”  Shachi beckoned her over, and she complied without a word, slowly ambling her way over to where her older crewmate was working.  “Is everything alright?  Your eye bags look like they’re about to go on a longhaul trip.”

“I wanted to ask you something,” she replied, voice small.  She knew her eye bags were atrocious, she didn’t get a lick of sleep the night previous.

Shachi nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“Did I do something to upset Law?”

“Huh?”

Ruža paused, staring at the tinted shades that constantly covered the man’s eyes.  “What do you mean ‘huh’?  He hasn’t wanted to make eye contact with me in like a week now.  I want to know what I did wrong and figured you might know… you or Penguin.”

Shachi pinched the bridge of his crooked nose in between his fingers.  “Law is such an idiot, I swear.”  He dropped his hand, planting it firmly on his crewmate’s stiff shoulder.  “He’s not mad at you, I promise.”

“Then why is he acting like this?”

“Because he’s stupid and doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings.  He was jealous that you were napping with Bepo last week.”

Shachi’s words made the neurons in Ruža’s brain brown out.  Her jaw was slack, staring blankly at the man in front of her.  Ikkaku was right on the money.  She was always right.

“If you’re gonna get anything out of him, you have to corner him like a cat and force him to talk.  How else do you think he managed that alliance with Straw Hat?  That kid forced Law around against his will and in the end everything worked out.”  Shachi smirked.

“I’m not gonna drag him around like a dog,” Ruža muttered, hiding her flushed face in her hands.  “But… I want to try to talk to him.  I got no sleep last night because of this.  Clearly.”

Shachi patted the woman’s shoulder a few extra times before finally releasing his supporting grip on her.  “Let me know if you need anything else, alright?  You got this.”  He flashed her a toothy grin.

Finally having a few answers, Ruža felt her shoulders relax, a relieved smile on her face.  “Thank you, Shachi, you’re the best.”

—

The day dragged on slower than a ship on the Calm Belt, and no one had seen Law for the entire duration.  Not at breakfast, snack time, or dinner.  Someone claimed they saw the man make a mad dash from his office to the galley for food, but no one could back up that claim.  He was like a cryptid among his own crew.

Regardless, that evening, Ruža stood face-to-face with the hand-painted plastic sign that he kept hung up on the heavy metal door to his office.

DO NOT ENTER.  I AM WORKING.

‘Obviously,’ thought the woman with a frown.

With a trembling hand, she reached up and knocked three times on the door, cringing at the way the heavy sound screeched through the desolate hallway of the submarine.  She waited a few moments in deafening silence.  No answer.  Her hand faltered, but she knocked again, louder this time.

“Read the sign,” yelled a clearly agitated voice from within the closed off room.

“I can read just fine, Captain,” Ruža responded, surprising herself with the sass on her tongue.

More uncomfortable silence followed, before the sound of a screeching chair could be heard.  Slow footsteps approached the steel door, and Ruža backed up apprehensively, heart beating wildly as she anticipated the door opening.  It did, a tiny crack, allowing the glaring light from the hallway to shine off of Law’s weary face.  His eye bags were worse than her’s, and his hair clearly hadn’t been washed in some time.

He stared at the woman outside of his door for a few agonizing moments before simply saying, “Yeah?”

Ruža pursed her lips.  “I wanted to talk to you.  It’s imperative.”  Law didn’t need to know that she had been practicing that last word in the mirror for the better part of 20 minutes.  Instead, she kept her shoulders back, chin held high, attempting to assert herself in front of her brooding captain who she was madly, desperately, incredibly in love with.  She was failing miserably.

Law looked past the way her lips quivered and her arms trembled at her sides, as well as her own sleepless appearance.  He silently opened the door to his office a bit wider, inviting her inside.  Her apprehensive steps followed him, and she closed the door behind her, standing against it as she watched her captain meander back to his desk, plopping himself in his chair before leaning forward to rest his head in his hands.

“I want to hear from you why you’ve been ignoring me.”  Ruža tried to suppress the way her voice trembled on its journey into the air.  “I have my suspicions, but I want to hear it from you.”

Law bowed his head, the shadow from his bangs concealing his eyes from her vision.  “What are your suspicions?”

Ruža was very quickly growing impatient, not helped by her lack of proper sleep.  “That you were jealous that I was napping with Bepo.  Shachi told me, but if that’s the case, I want to hear the truth from you, no one else.”

Law was worried that the sound of his hammering heart beat would be audible from across his office.  His own fingers were trembling with nerves, he never in a million years thought he would ever be in a situation like this one.  He did everything possible in his attempts to close himself out from intimate, personal connections, losing one too many people for his liking.  And yet, a woman stood before him (well, behind him), who held his weary heart in a grip so warm and caring that he almost didn’t want it back.

The red-haired woman waited patiently for her captain to respond.

“Yeah,” was all he was able to breathlessly mutter.

Ruža waited for him to continue.

“I was jealous.  But I shouldn’t have been.”

“And why were you jealous?” she demanded.  “The entire crew loves napping with Bepo.  Tell me why it’s different when I do it.”

Now it was Law’s turn to grow progressively more agitated.  His teeth clenched within his closed mouth.  “Do I really have to say it?”

“If it’s really this hard for you, then you don’t have to bother.  I’m just tired of you acting like I don’t even exist.  We’re in a damn submarine, it’s a bit hard not to feel ignored.”  Ruža’s voice had softened only slightly.  She was aware of her captain’s emotional issues, she knew bits and pieces of why he held everyone at three arms lengths away from him.  She knew that the tattoo she had forcibly inked on the back of her neck was a disturbing sight for him, just as it was a painful scar for her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Law finally leaned back in his chair.  He closed his eyes, tossing his head back, breathing shallowly through his nose.  “I know it was immature of me to treat you like that, Ruža, I’m sorry.”  He rotated his head only slightly to glance towards the woman at his door, gazing at her with golden eyes that were filled with an unspoken agony.

“It’s okay,” was all she said back.

An idea popped into Law’s anxiety-ridden mind.  He slowly pulled open one of the messy drawers of his desk, procuring a wrinkled blank piece of paper.  Pulling a pen from a cup on his desk, he pulled the cap off and started scribbling frantically onto the paper.  In his head, the vision of Corazon writing on slips of paper to communicate while he was pretending to be mute flashed through his vision.  If Law couldn’t muster up the courage to vocalize the three little words bouncing aimlessly through his skull, then he’d just write them down.

The scratching of pen against paper finally ceased, and Law stood, keeping his head low as he passed the paper underside-up toward Ruža, who carefully took it from his hand.  Flipping it around, she began to scan the words sloppily written on the front.

Ruža clenched the paper within her shaky fingers.  The words she herself had been afraid to say were written at the top.  I love you.

The silence was palpable, so thick you couldn’t even slice a sword through it.  Shockingly, however, a light, airly laugh infiltrated the space.  Ruža’s face was flushed a bright, rosy red, and her mouth was twisted into a nervous, childlike grin as she tried with all her might to keep down the nervous laughs that were forming in her chest.  She couldn’t help it, small giggles escaping her lips as her shoulders shuddered with the effort of keeping them in.  Law picked his head up, staring with a mixture of shock and bewilderment.  He poured his heart out onto a piece of paper, and she was laughing at him.

“I’m not laughing at you, Law,” she finally managed to say.  “I love you.”

The formidable captain of the Heart Pirates, one of the most wanted men in the world, nervously swallowed the glob of spit that had formed in the back of his throat.  “You… you do?”

“Yeah.”  Her response mirrored his curt words from the short minutes prior.  “I was so scared that I did something to upset you.”

“God, no, you could never,” Law replied, breathlessly.  He felt 100 pounds lighter, like he could float away on the slightest breeze.  The three words that had cursed him for almost 20 years of his life now held a new weight to them.  A new, liberated weight.

The woman in front of him, with a nervous, giddy smile dancing across her lips, eyes closed tightly with the force of her infectious smile, held his heart so tightly in her grasp and she didn’t even know it.  Not yet, at least.  That would come with time.

Ruža broke the silence.  “Can I please hug you?”

Law felt the corners of his own mouth twitch upwards.  “Of course.”

The red-head closed the distance within a few short steps, hiding her face within Law’s chest, still giggling like a child over the sudden revelation.  She kept the paper held firmly in her hand as she wrapped her arms around his torso.  Law’s scruffy chin found its perch on the crown of her head, the scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils and clouding his mind with a bliss he had never experienced before.  He couldn’t fight his smile any more, letting it consume him, the same way he accepted the way his heart beat uncontrollably within Ruža’s presence.

“I’m sorry I’m laughing, I can’t help it,” she mumbled, the sound muffled by her face squished in the fabric of his sweatshirt.

His hands found their place around her shoulders, his left hand involuntarily coming up to rest on the back of her neck, covering her tattoo with his own inked hand.  “It’s okay,” he responded, his words quiet and soft.  “This is all new to me.”

“It’s new to me, too.”

The two stood in the same position for what felt like hours before Ruža finally (though regrettably) backed away slightly.  Law’s hands slipped off her shoulders, but his fingers gingerly brushed along her tattoo.

“We don’t have to do anything about this if you don’t want to.  I know with you being the captain and everything makes this kind of weird.”  Ruža’s eyebrows angled in a way that made her appear almost sad at a reality that hadn’t even happened yet.

It took Law a few moments to really form his response.  “No, I… I think I want to try.  I don’t know what to do, though.”

“Me neither.”

Now it was Law’s turn to laugh.  “We’re fucking hopeless.”

“Tell me about it.”

Ruža gazed longingly at the paper she still held in her hands, eyes repeatedly glossing over the three words at the top.  Law could get used to the way her bright eyes softened, as if not believing that what she was reading was the truth.  In the back of her mind, the reason she had even shown up to his office in the first place pushed itself back to the forefront.

“So about you being jealous…”

[sehtoast]

Caught (Homelander x OC Smut)

18+ | 4k words | masturbation, underwear sniffing, getting caught, mirrorlander, mirrorlander vs homelander, slight dubcon, dirty talk, fingering, pussy eating, p in v sex, premature ejaculation, spidersona oc | Fic Directory

He takes a deep breath, holds it, savors it, then releases it slowly.  

Delicious.

He’s been snooping again.  Well, it’s not like he ever stopped and, really, it’s not like he could even if he wanted to– which he doesn’t.  Benjamin’s room is rife with all sorts of little odds and ends that help satiate that desire to know more about the web-head.  Papers, books, trinkets, hobbies, clothes…

Especially the clothes.

He’s been in here before with Benjamin. Had to act like he didn’t already know the layout so intimately.  Like he hasn’t been breaking in regularly and browsing to his heart’s content.  Like he hasn’t been doing this.

He takes another deep breath.

Like he hasn’t been huffing Benjamin’s dirty laundry.

He holds it tight, letting his eyes flutter shut.

But not just any dirty laundry.  Clenched in his bare fist is a pair of black boxer briefs, wrinkled from sitting in the hamper.  He presses the crotch of them to his nose and inhales over and over again, memorizing the scent, the taste of his little spider.

He’s leaned back, half sat on the foot of the bed as he indulges with a hand around his weeping cock. He strokes himself slow, taking his time.  He imagines what he’d do with his face buried in Ben’s cunt, imagines the taste, the scent, the heat.  His tongue laves over the fabric and he moans brokenly.

Oh, he’s wanted this for some time now… Watching the bug, following him around. Basking in their shared moments. He imagines how easy it would be, too.  Just one kiss, hot and needy, would convey all he needs. What would it be like to have Ben’s hand in place of his own?  Those soft digits wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly and working him into deep breaths and needy moans– how would they feel?  Ben would whisper in his ear, sing his praises, tell him how good he is.  He fucking knows it.  Johnny, he’d say, why don’t you let go for me?

Oh, and he would.  He’d spill so quickly it’d be downright humiliating.

His mind clouds with so many fantasies that he can hardly pick one to be his undoing.  Ben’s lips around his cock, his pussy stretched deep, fucked within an inch of his life.  All the while, Homelander moans unabashedly into the fabric.

It’s so good, so fucking good–

“Johnny…”

That’s right, say my name! C’’mon, say it!  Say my fucking name!

He starts to fuck carelessly into his grip, fist pressing the fabric harder against his face.

Oh fuck, fuck yeah– little whore, mine, all mine…

And it feels so good, he can’t–

“Johnny?”

A raspy hum rattles from his chest, pinching off in a tight little moan as he spills his load, fucking his fist with languid rolls of his hips.

“Mm, fuck, Ben… God…”  He groans against the fabric.  He stands there in perfect bliss, eyes shut, warm and relaxed as he comes down from his high.  When he does finally open them again, he navigates the process of wiping his hand on his pants and getting himself zipped up.  He’s still dazed but, when he glances back up, he’s shocked clear into coherency and halts putting himself back together entirely. 

Wide eyes meet in stunned silence.

In the doorway stands Benjamin, jaw practically on the floor, gaze flitting from Homelander’s face to the underwear gripped tight in his left hand, then down to his cock.  The bug’s face burns a deep crimson as he connects the dots, but his eyes continue darting up and down. 

Homelander doesn’t know what to say, doesn't know what to do. He should’ve never let his guard down to indulge like this; he should’ve kept his eyes and ears open for Benjamin.  He fucked up.  He fucked up bad.  He’s probably single handedly ruined his relationship with not only the best friend he’s ever had, but with the man he’s developed more than just simple lust for.

“I–”  He tries, but his voice comes out strained.  “Uhm…”  He looks down, shame burning deep in his gut under Ben’s shocked gaze. 

“Wow…” Is all Benjamin says in response.  It scares Homelander to bits, not being able to read his tone.

And he just stands there, guilty as ever with those boxer briefs clutched in his grip, cock still hanging between his zipper.

“So, uh…” Ben starts again, shifting in place.  “How long you been doing this?”

Homelander doesn’t know how the fuck he’s supposed to answer.  How does he salvage this, how does he fix it?  He can’t just say this is the first time, that’d be too obvious–

“I–”

Fuck.  Fuck.  Now he has to say something, and quick.

Let me. Sings that devious voice in his head, all too eager to take the reins.  Homelander, all too relieved to let go and escape the shame, relents immediately.  The change happens in a flash.

“Benjamin,” he tuts with a cock of his head.  “What kind of question is that, hm?”

The bug bristles at the change in his demeanor– probably that sixth sense of his tattling on the shift.  From within the safe confines of his mind, Homelander practically begs:  Please, please be gentle with him.  He’s good to us, remember?

“Come here,” he demands, a finger pointed to his boot as if he meant to beckon a dog.  He watches with a sick, satisfied grin as Ben comes forward timidly, lips parted, hand all but outstretched to show no ill intent. 

The web-head has met this alter ego before. He knows exactly what this is.

He grips Benjamin by the wrist, tugging him damn near chest-to-chest.

“Attaboy,” he breathes directly into Ben’s ear.  The way he squirms sends a delicious shiver right to his cock.  “If you must know… I do it every… single… day.”

He can hear Ben gulp in response.  He feels the heat of the bug’s body, feels how rigid he is.  One overdramatic sniff of the air and he smirks down at the web-head.

“Smells like you’re cookin’ up my next pair, aren’t you?  Getting ‘em good and wet for me…”  His lips spread into the most devious smile possible, parting only to lick a stripe over Benjamin’s cheekbone.  He doesn’t know what he loves more: the fact he doesn’t resist, or that Ben fucking reached out to grip his arm when he did it.  That he needed to steady himself was a delicious thought.

John watches from behind his own eyes, mystified, but also saddened. It should be him in control, it should be him teasing his Benjamin like this.

“Answer me, bug boy.”

“I–” Ben starts, but his voice breaks from nervousness.

“I knew it.”  Homelander teases, leaning in close to murmur in his ear.  “Y’know, I’d love a fresh taste… And you’d love to give it to me, wouldn’t you?”

Ben gulps audibly, squeezing tighter around Homelander’s arm which, of course, makes that smile grow all the more devilish.

“Tell me right now you don’t want to lay back and let me eat your pussy until all you can possibly do is scream my name.”  He murmurs, a hand coming up and tugging Ben’s head back to reveal his neck.  Homelander peppers a kiss or two before scraping his teeth along the side he’s always imagined would be most sensitive.

His satisfaction at Benjamin’s weak gasp is unmeasurable.  His cock twitches and he presses it against the bug’s hip. He could take this boy apart so easily…

“Imagine it… my tongue running between your pretty little pussy lips.  You, writhing and moaning like a little whore for me.  Creaming around my fingers because you just can’t help yourself…”  Homelander chuckles darkly, rubbing his cock against Ben more brazenly now.  “You taste sooo sweet on your clothes. C’mon, Benny… Give us a taste.”

He reaches down to grab himself and tucks his cock between Ben’s thighs.  With slow, calculated thrusts, Homelander mimes the act of fucking him.

“When I’m done, I’ll give you what you want.”

The panting breaths from the wall-crawler are so enticing he can hardly help himself when he swallows those soft little noises with a kiss, tongue delving between Ben’s lips without hesitation.  “You want this…” He purrs between unreciprocated kisses.  “You want me.”

“I–” Ben starts, pausing when a finger hooks under the waistband of his pants.  

“Mm, say it.”  Homelander orders in a whisper.  He starts to snake his hand inside.  “Say how much you want me, how badly you want me to taste you– fuck you…”

Benjamin goes to speak once more, but sucks a sharp breath instead when a finger swipes between his soaked folds.  It drags back and forth, pressing against his hole, dipping inside just the slightest bit before trailing to his clit.

“Drenched,”  Homelander all but moans.  “Fucking knew you would be…”  He draws his hand free and brings it to his lips, tracing slick over them before slipping inside.  “Delicious… I knew you fucking wanted me.”

“Johnny…” Ben murmurs.  

Homelander practically doesn’t even hear it.

“I want Johnny.” He repeats, this time a little more brave despite how much anxiety dances in his words. This was volatility personified. 

Homelander looks at him with a flicker of ire, as though he’s ready to discipline him.  Throw him over his knee for a good spanking, fuck him senseless– something or the other.  Whichever one scratches the itch and accomplishes the task all at once.

“And why the fuck would you want him instead of me?”  He asks, bitterness lacing his words.  He spins them and traps Benjamin against the bed.

This is how it went last time.  Though last time was incredibly different, significantly more violent, and a lot less sexually charged, Benjamin needed only to ask and, somehow, John would find himself with enough strength to come back to the surface.  He can practically feel the resistance brewing.

Let me out.

Absolutely not.

Let me the fuck out!

“I want Johnny.” Ben repeats again, firm with every word.  In all fairness, Ben would absolutely have a round with this version of Homelander.  Just… not right now.  Not before John.  A snarl precedes that hand diving back into his pants, fingers delving deep into his cunt.  Benjamin can hardly stop the gasping moan that comes out.  It’s hard to resist it, hard to pretend he doesn’t actually want this.

But this isn’t who he wants it with.  Johnny would come first, always.

“Sing for me, little birdie.” Homelander commands, fucking his digits in and out, fingers curled perfectly.  His face twists as if he’s struggling to keep control. “You’re soaked for me. You’re like this because of me!  Not him!”

Ben’s whines are music to his ears even as he fights to keep from losing his hold.

I’m in control here!  Me!  You let me out right fucking now! He wants me!

Suddenly Homelander is shaking his head violently, expression pinched, teeth bared and grinding– and then he’s not.  His fingers still, his expression softens, eyes widen like a deer in headlights.

Still knuckle deep, Homelander freezes.

“Johnny..?”  Ben asks, though he’s already confident the switch had happened.  Despite the intrusion between his legs, the moment is significantly less tense than with the previous presence.  “I–”

“You want… me?”  

His voice is nearly a whisper, a touch of timidness in his tone.

“Yeah,” Ben nods, eyes shutting.  He leans in to press their foreheads together.  “I didn’t think it’d happen like this, y’know, but… yeah.”

Homelander lurches forward in an embarrassingly desperate manner, taking Ben in a kiss that he certainly didn’t mean to moan into.  Just like he doesn’t mean to melt when he feels reciprocation, he just does.

He can hardly wrap his mind around any of it. Ben’s lips, so soft and sweet against his.  The sweet boy’s cunt fluttering all hot and wet around his middle and ring fingers.  He could come undone just from what he’d been dropped into.  He sighs and starts moving his fingers, slow at first, soft.  

Just enough to milk the most beautiful noise he’s ever heard from his Benjamin.  It’s enough to make him whine and press his stiff cock right against Ben’s thigh– but only for a moment.  Long enough for his desperation and revived confidence to grow into a hunger unlike anything he’s ever known.  Suddenly he’s lifting Ben to lay flat on the bed, legs hanging off the edge, and he’s got the bug’s pants torn free and–

The first lick to his core isn’t even full contact.  He suckles the wet spot of Ben’s underwear, lips wrapped tight to get every last bit.  He mewls for it, face pressing between his little spider’s thighs to tease that first truly fresh taste of his greatest longing– like he means to drown in it.  The hands in his hair satisfy every dream he’s ever had of such a moment, tugging and gripping like Benjamin would die if he didn’t.

“Oh god…” The bug whimpers, hips bucking.  It’s all the motivation Homelander needs to deny himself just long enough to yank those boxer briefs away and reveal his meal.  He dives in completely undignified, moans muffling as he presses the whole of his open mouth to Ben’s cunt, tongue delving as deep into his hole as physically possible.  He’d trade his powers for a longer tongue right fucking now if it meant he could reach further inside– if he could collect more of that sweet nectar on his tongue and feed the starving beast inside of him that demanded so much more.

He suckles and flicks Ben’s clit, practically hypnotized at his size and thickness.  It’s so easy to get it into his mouth– so easy to suck and hold and–

The bed creaks with a particularly sharp unconscious thrust of his hips at the realization.  It’s like having a cock in his mouth.

He keeps Ben’s legs spread high and wide.  The quakes of them in his iron grip shoot straight to his ego and cock, making his eyes roll and heat all at once.

“Johnny– Oh, fuck, fuck, please–”

That’s right!  Say it!  Say my fucking name!

As if reading his mind, Benjamin does.  He howls and shivers and shakes through an orgasm that leaves him gushing slick against Homelander’s eager tongue. Homelander’s head is pressed down hard by the hands in his hair– silent pleas for more and more.

He’s so thrilled with himself that he couldn’t possibly prevent the moan that reverberates against Benjamin’s throbbing clit.  It practically jerks in his mouth.

“Oh god!”

I am your god.

And he just can’t bring himself to stop.  Can’t help but act out every single scenario he’s ever dreamed up while pressing stolen clothing to his nose and fucking his hand.  It’s going to pale in comparison when he finally slips into Ben’s cunt– he fucking knows it.  He’ll never be able to go back to something so dull when he’s tasted heaven and touched the stars.

He’s damn near ready to dive in for more when the hands in his hair yank good and hard, pulling him up.  He’s still clothed except for his cock free between his zipper, now harder than he's ever been in his life.  He has half a mind to just shove it in and fuck Ben before the boy could strip him down, but that option is long gone when a kiss distracts him long enough for zippers and clasps to get undone.

Pussy. 

Shut the fuck up! 

He neglects his alter ego’s taunts in favor of reveling in touches to his bare chest.  It’s enough to leave goosebumps and make him shiver.  He hardly knows what to do when Ben strips him the rest of the way, much less when a hand finally wraps around his cock.  The gasp that left him was less than pathetic, but it doesn’t deter the touches and soft kisses pressed to his neck.

“You’re amazing,” Ben murmurs against his flesh, breath fanning wet spots and making him twitch like some sort of virgin.  His eyes flutter open and catch a smile so genuine it melts his heart.  Each stroke along his length makes his chest heave with deep, unsteady breaths– every swipe of Ben's thumb to his soaked tip drives him near insanity.   He’s so pent up, even after getting off earlier.  He could blow at any second– god, what if it’s disappointing?  What if he ruins it because he’s too fucking weak to hold back?  

He’s thought of this so many fucking times that he practically has no control whatsoever.  But he never thought it’d feel so– 

So–

Something overtakes him, desperate beyond measure, utterly starved, and he rolls them.  Much as he’d love to drag it out, he’s on the brink and he’s not going to come until–

“O-ooh fffuuuck!” 

No sooner than his tip breeches Benjamin’s cunt is he blowing his load and–

Pathetic.

“Mm– oh, fuck– I’m sorry–”

At least I’d have actually gotten to fuck him.

“Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry–” 

One pump chump, huh? 

He buries his face against Ben's neck to hide as pleasure and shame mix like oil and water in his gut. His body is locked tight, hips jerking despite having slipped out in the midst of an exceptionally pathetic, desperate thrust. 

You ruin everything you touch. 

It’s only when he’s nudged out of his hiding spot that he realizes he’s still whispering apologies.

“Hey, what’s– are you okay?”  Ben asks, concern replacing the bliss once etched so beautifully on his face.

Your fault. 

“I…” Homelander starts, shaking his head when the words get stuck in his throat.  “I didn’t mean to… finish so early…”

Ben’s hands cup his cheeks and cradle him, thumbs rubbing at his cheeks.  “I don’t mind.”  He says.  “We can stop if you’re–”

“No!” He interrupts.  “No, we– I can be ready again, I just–”

His face is burning red; he knows it.

“Shh, Johnny.  Don’t stress.  Just…”  Ben pulls him down into a kiss, soft and slow.  “Just kiss me for a bit, okay?”

Despite his racing heart and his mental roommate jabbing at his pride, he goes along.  It starts easy, simple pecks and gentle glides of lips.  A pace perfect to diminish his anxiety, an act sweet enough to dispel the shame.  Simple touches meant to soothe, others meant to ground.

He pulls back and looks at Benjamin for a moment, appreciating his kiss-swollen lips and hazy eyes before going right back in with more fervor.  Legs wrap around his waist and pull him into a grinding motion, milking a breathy moan directly into the kiss.

“That’s it…” Ben purrs between kisses.  

His tongue joins the fray, eyes rolling back as the taste and sensations hit his mind all at once.

He’s hard again in no time, especially with those little words of praise in between.  He stills when a hand slips between their bodies and grasps his cock, directing his tip to swipe between come-slicked folds still drenched for him.

Benjamin lines him up perfectly and he sinks in without thought.  A strangled moan catches in his throat as he’s practically sucked in by that tight heat.  Ben’s noises drive him insane– little gasps and whines as he adjusts, comments about how thick he is and oh– 

His arms wrap under Ben’s back to pull him impossibly closer.  He starts slow, steady and gentle just like Ben had been with him.  

Good.  Now ruin him.

He fights to keep his controlled pace, fights to be a perfect gentleman and not shatter this sweet boy.

“Johnny~”

And it’s so fucking hard not to.

His face is buried in Benjamin’s neck again and he picks up the pace, settling into a sloppy rut like an animal in heat– but god that’s exactly what he is.  Desperate and instinctive, he drives himself into Ben over and over again, chasing that high, knowing each deep stroke is what pulls those sweet little whimpers from his precious Benjamin and by god he’ll do it again and again–

“Harder!”  Gasps his little spider, and he’s all too happy to oblige.  His back arches, arms brace, and he cuts loose. His mind snaps– all there is anymore is this.  A lifetime of them and nothing else.  It couldn’t possibly be anything else.

Breathy exclamations turn to noisy moans, all of them sung into the air for him in tandem with squelches and wet slaps of skin.

Hear how he sings for you?  That’s it, keep going.  Hand under his lower back– good.  Help him arch into it.  Attaboy.

Homelander nods in the crook of Ben’s neck, tongue falling free to lick a stripe into which he fully intends to leave his mark.

Feel how he quakes under you?  Bite him.  Claim him.

His teeth sink in, just enough not to break the skin but he will mark this sweet boy as his.

He’s yours now, tiger.

“G-Gonna come! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”  Ben exclaims under him, nails biting into Homelander’s back as he holds on for dear life.  “Oh god– oh fuck!”

Make sure he never wants anyone else.  Thumb on his clit, right now– rub hard.

Homelander does exactly that and with only one flick, he sends Benjamin mewling into an orgasm so strong his entire body convulses– perfectly milking another load from his cock.

They cling to each other for dear life, both hurtling through climaxes so intense they can do nothing more than gasp and whine and pray the other won’t let go.

It takes a few minutes for either to speak, but fingers run through Homelander’s hair and a hand smooths up and down his back until they do.  Comforting, caring– 

“Do you wanna stay?”

Not the question he was expecting. Not at all– and not something he’s ever been asked before by anyone.  He hates knowing his eyes are watering when he looks up, but they do and he can’t make them stop.  “D’you want me to?”  

Stupid.  Stupid voice crack, stupid– 

Shut up and listen.

“Duh,” Ben says, hands coming up to pinch at his cheeks.  “I always want you to stay.”

“You’re not… mad at me?”

This isn’t what he was expecting at all.

“Why would I be?”  Ben asks.

He’s about to explain the obvious, but–

“I mean I wish we could’ve skipped the whole fiending-for-my-underwear thing and gotten straight into this, but I’m not mad.  And I’m not mad about your brain bestie making an appearance either.” Ben smooths a hand through Homelander’s hair, scritching softly at the base of his neck.  “It’s all good.”

I've got dibs on the next time. 

“Mm, thank god.” John yawns.  It’s all he knows to say, except– “So are we uh… a thing now?”

You sound like a fucking teenager.

What, you have a better idea of how to ask him?

“D’you wanna be?” Ben asks, a beaming smile spreading across his face.  It must be contagious, because Homelander ends up with the same look.

“Yeah…” He breaths, chewing his lower lip to keep from looking any more dopey than he already does.  “Yeah, let’s– I want that.”

“Good,” Ben says, hooking a leg around him.  “So, uh… Boyfriend perks include unlimited underwear access.”  His cheeks tinge a deep red as he says it, but that just makes Homelander’s lips curl into a devious smirk.  “Among other things, y’know?”

“I can’t wait to find out,” John says.  All this time as just friends has been nothing short of  euphoric… 

Whatever is next for them must be bliss itself.

[bananadrinkxxx]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐲𝐞 (6)

[Aemond Targaryen x female Lucerys Velaryon • fem! oc!reader]

[warnings: sex content, fights, harassment, angst, smut, domination, violence, targcest (uncle/niece)]

Only for 18+

[description: Boarding School - Modern Setting. Lucerya avoided her uncle for years but Aemond remembers and he is on his mission to make her life a living hell.]

Masterlist for all available parts (click here)

Aemond first saw his mother's angry eyes before his gaze moved on to Lord Corlys, who only signaled him with his head to sit down. 

Aemond took the free chair next to Alys, who looked at him in surprise. She reached for his hand, but he was quicker and avoided her touch. He couldn't even stand the sight of her, how could he stand her touch. He saw her eyes widen out of the corner of his eye, but all he felt was disgust. She had never meant anything to him, for him only the physical thing had mattered, but now he didn't even want that from her.

"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Rivers, for appearing so quickly," Corlys thanked him, and Mrs. Rivers nodded.

"What happened? Your secretary said it was urgent, but she wouldn't tell us exactly what it was about over the phone."

Corlys clasped her hands together. "We have a serious issue to discuss." He looked to Aemond.

 "Our school has a zero tolerance policy toward bullying, and yet it has come to my attention that one of our students, within the walls, under my supervision, has had this very thing happen to her."

Aemond heard Alys inhale sharply. He looked forward to the next few minutes. He had no idea why he was here, but perhaps the gods just wanted him to witness their demise.

"Aemond was only protecting his sister," she said suddenly, placing her hand on his knee. He turned to her, looking at her stunned, while Alys misinterpreted his facial expression and felt confirmed in her mission to spread more lies. "Helaena has been bullied by Lucerya Velaryon for weeks and he has only defended her. You can't punish him for doing the right thing."

Lord Corlys raised an eyebrow and leaned forward slightly. "Miss Rivers, what do you think is the reason you're here?"

Alys looked at him in surprise. "As a witness?" She looked to Aemond as he removed her hand from his knee.

Alicent snorted snidely. "Unbelievable," she spat with hatred, leaning back in her chair as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "The acting talent of your students is truly remarkable, Corlys. It seems to me they put more emphasis on drama lessons here than the safety of your students."

"Excuse me?" interjected Mrs. Rivers indignantly, straightening up. "Alicent, you-"

"That's Mrs. Targaryen to you, Mrs. Rivers," his mother retorted hostilely. "Your daughter has been bullying my daughter for weeks. I don't know what went wrong in your upbringing, but in my family we don't bully weaker ones."

"Aemond, please. Don't leave me here alone... Aemond."

Aemond closed his eye for a brief moment as Lucy Velaryon's face appeared in his mind, tearful and distraught. He clenched his hand into a fist, disgusted with himself.

"Bullying?," Mrs. Rivers almost shrieked, looking to her daughter, who stared at the floor, stunned. "You're bullying others?" Alys shook her head, but her silence was answer enough. She didn't even bother to lie. The first tears appeared in her eyes.

"Alys, I'm sure you know the school rules, even if you don't seem to understand the moral rules of our society. Your behavior has consequences, and I want you to understand that you have caused great harm to Helaena. I have therefore decided to suspend you for two months."

Alys looked up in panic. "But in two and a half months are the mid-year exams. They're crucial for our college applications. You can't suspend me, I need the classes."

Alicent made a deprecating sound. "You probably should have thought about that before. You didn't care if my daughter could prepare for the exams either. I would have loved to have had you kicked out of school."

Corly's look was clear and his mother reluctantly remained silent.

"Your punishment was lessened just by the fact that Helaena asked me to give you a second chance. However, I can't let you go without a punishment, which is why I think the suspension is more than appropriate."

Alys was trembling and suddenly pale. Aemond heard her swallow. She looked to Aemond, but when she met his hateful gaze, she flinched and slumped in her chair like a heap of misery. She suddenly seemed so small, so pathetic. Just like her character.

"We apologize for our daughter's behavior," Mr. Rivers said, giving his daughter a reproving look. "Should it be true," he added quickly. "But at the moment, it is testimony against testimony. Is there a witness to such allegations?"

"Indeed, there is a witness," Corlys said, presenting documents to him. "Lucerya Velaryon unfortunately cannot attend this meeting, but she described an incident to me in a private conversation. As a result, I had Aly's friends come to me and they all confirmed that the accusations were legitimate. Here are their testimonies."

At the mention of Lucy, Aemond had to gulp. Corlys was definitely referring to the incident where Alys had turned him against his niece, even though she had been the one making her life hell. He looked at Alys' devastated face. She didn't know yet that this suspension was the best thing that could happen to her. As soon as she came back, she would beg him to show mercy. He would destroy her.

"Then, of course, we accept the punishment," Mrs. Rivers replied dejectedly as she held the sheets in her hand. "We will take our daughter with us to Harrenhal today."

"That would be the best," Corlys confirmed.

Alys parents stood up and Alys wanted to follow them before Aemond grabbed her and pulled her close to him. He pressed her petite body against his and pushed her head against him. With his mouth, he slid to her ear. "Pray I never meet you alone," Aemond threatened her softly. He felt her tense. "You are dead to me." Her whole body stiffened in his embrace. He had spoken as softly as he could so that no one but Alys understood him. He released their embrace and pushed her away from him. Alys looked at him fearfully before quickly turning around to put as much distance between them as quickly as she could.

When the Rivers were gone, his mother addressed Lord Corlys one last time.

"I hope we never have to repeat such a conversation again, Corlys," she spoke icily, not hiding her lack of sympathy for the man. Corlys nodded with a smile, it seemed forced, but he preferred to remain silent. A clever man, Aemond thought. His mother seemed to have expected nothing less.

"Come, Aemond," she commanded, and Aemond followed her instruction, but a clearing of the throat held them both back.

"I would like to speak with Aemond in private, Alicent."

His mother looked at Corlys Velaryon with a raised eyebrow.

"What for?"

"I would prefer to discuss this with him alone."

"Do you have to?"

"I'm afraid so."

Alicent looked at him critically before her gaze wandered to Aemond, who only raised his shoulders. No idea what else the old man wanted from him.

"I'm with Helaena, she wants to go back to school here," she began, addressing Aemond. "Come to us after your talk."

Aemond nodded and watched his mother storm out of the office without saying goodbye to Corlys. Neither had ever tried to hide the fact that they disliked each other.

Corlys signaled for him to sit down.

"Miss Rivers said something interesting earlier," Corlys began. "Basically, she confirmed a suspicion I've had for a long time, and which has been brought to my attention several times now by various students. The only one who has been consistently silent on the subject is my granddaughter."

Aemond had a small premonition of what was about to come. Corlys walked around his desk. He stopped in front of Aemond and sat down with one leg on the desk. He looked down at him, and Aemond realized what he was doing to him.

He was making him feel small.

"I want to be frank with you, Aemond. I'm afraid you wouldn't understand otherwise. If it ever comes to my attention again that you are bullying Lucy in any way, I will expel you from this school. And then not even your father can save you, understand?"

Neither of them averted their eyes. It was a struggle of power, though it was clear who had the higher leverage.

"Understood."

Corlys smiled. "Very good. I'm glad to hear that. You can go now."

. . . . .

Baela stared at her cousin, who had been lying in her bed for two days, leaving it only to go to the bathroom. She had left Lucy alone, sensing that something had happened, but she hadn't spoken a word since returning to the bedchamber in the middle of the night two days ago. She had looked like a ghost, mascara spread over her face and eyes teary and puffy.

The only time she had spoken was when Alicent, Aemond's mother, and Lord Corlys had joined her in the room after Lucy had called in sick. Baela had tried to eavesdrop, but she had only understood bits and pieces. Too little to make sense of it all, but she was smart enough to understand that it must have something to do with Aemond. Even though Lucy didn't say a word, Aemond's sudden announcement to leave Lucy alone again from now on was almost proof enough.

But that was not enough. She did not want Aemond to get away without consequences. Rhaena had tried to talk to Lucy, to convince her to go to Lord Corlys, but she had not succeeded, so her twin sister had gone to her grandfather herself. But even that was not enough for Baela. She looked to Jacaerys, who was standing at the pool table with his friends, laughing as if all was well with the world. Well, it was for him. He was a grade above them, and the bullying against his sister had apparently passed him by completely. Even though the whole school was involved, the upper years had just watched while the younger ones did what they always did. Obey Aemond Targaryen. The only ones who could say anything against Aemond were his brother Aegon and Jacaerys.

"Jacaerys," Baela said when she arrived at the pool table. The boys looked at her in surprise, as if they had completely tuned out the world around them.

"Baela," Jacaerys replied in surprise, smiling. "Do you feel like playing along? The boys might-"

"We need to talk."

Jacaerys's smile vanished at the seriousness of her voice. His eyes roamed her face inquiringly, and he understood. Baela gave his friends a look that made it clear this conversation was not for their ears. They looked to Jacaerys, who nodded at them promptly.

When the boys were gone, Jacaerys turned to her.

"What's this about?"

. . . . .

Jacaery's fist crashed into Aemond's cheekbone without warning. Aemond stumbled back from the blow, but still managed to stay on his feet. The crowd around them filled up and suddenly they were surrounded by several classmates who were watching them in a curious manner.

Aemond looked angrily at Jacaerys and wiped his lip. Blood was visible on the back of his hand.

"You'd better not do that again," Aemond warned, and everyone stared at Jace, who only made a snide noise.

"This is for Lucy. I heard what you did," Jacaerys approached. "Turn your classmates against her? You're lucky I'm letting you live."

He saw something flit across Aemond's face. A realization, guilt, and something else, but he didn't particularly care. That bastard had hurt, humiliated and bullied his little sister and he had been too absorbed in his own world that he hadn't noticed how Lucy was suffering. But that was the end of it now. He would protect her from now on. Of course he never missed an opportunity to tease her, but this was different. He would never want to hurt her seriously, but Aemond had always had it in for Lucy. He felt sick when he thought about what Baela had told him.

"Jace," Baela called out warningly, but by then it had happened. Aemond shoved Jacaerys so hard that he stumbled backward and flew over his own feet. He landed on the ground with a loud thud, and Aemond snorted disparagingly at the ease with which he had brought his nephew down.

"You asshole," Baela yelled, but was held back by Aegon. Baela swung at him, but as usual, Aegon made fun of such things.

Humiliated, Jacaerys jumped up to face his uncle. He lunged, but Aemond intercepted his blow and held his wrist tightly. With his other arm he lunged wide, his hand clenched into his fist, and for a brief moment Jacaerys remembered back to when Lucy had slid the kitchen knife across his face. It had been a harmless argument that had escalated, stopped only when Lucy had taken her uncle's eye. He would never forget Aemond's screams. Just as he would never forget Lucy's stunned, frightened look as she looked pleadingly to Jacaerys, hoping to undo what she had done.

Aemond's fist raced toward his face, he braced himself for the pain, but then suddenly brown hair appeared before his eyes. He knew immediately who had placed himself in front of him. Aemond's fist stopped just before her face and he saw the bewilderment on his face.

"Are you crazy?" asked Aemond, addressing Lucy.

"What are you doing, Lucy? Get out of here," hissed Jacaerys, but Lucy ignored him.

"Listen to your brother," Aemond said low, his fist still in the air. Jacaerys grabbed Lucy by the shoulder, but she tore away from him. She stepped closer to Aemond, standing inches away from him.

"I'm right here, Uncle," Lucy dared him. Her voice was strong, no weakness in it. "The object of your ire, the reason you lost your eye. If you wish to get your revenge, you have to get rid of me. So do it. And be done of all this bother."

Aemond stared at Lucy. For a moment, the world stood still. All eyes were on the two of them. No one saying a word. Lucy stood there, like a warrior, they say, not backing down an inch. Jacaerys was impressed with his sister at that moment.

He had come to save her, to defend her but now she was standing there to save him.

Aemond was silent. He didn't say a word, the only thing he did was stare at Lucy. Then he snorted and turned around. The crowd parted to make way, from the king of the school who had just been put in his place by a woman.

"That was dangerous, Lucy, are you insane?"

But no response. His sister ignored him and stared after Aemond. Even when he was long gone from sight.

. . . . .

"Exercise improves blood flow to the muscle, reduces the likelihood of hardening of the arteries and thus the risk of a heart attack later in life. In addition, blood pressure, blood sugar and blood fat levels are regulated. But that's not all: exercise also strengthens muscles, tendons, bones, joints and ligaments."

At the word sport, Lucy had already switched off in her mind. Neither did she do sports, nor did she want to hear about them. Vaemond Velaryon, her gym teacher, didn't like her anyway, and pretending to be excited about his classes would be as much of a waste of time as pretending it could. There was probably no one more unathletic than she was.

"People who exercise in the fresh air are more balanced and happier. Just 5 minutes of sporting activity in the fresh air is enough to significantly improve your mood. That's because people who exercise outdoors in nature produce more of the body's hormones, such as dopamine, serotonin and norepinephrine."

Could someone stop this torture? Lucy looked at her cousin Baela, who rolled her eyes in annoyance. Rhaena, on the other hand, looked at her great-uncle with shining eyes, as if he were the Messiah. She was sure that Aunt Laena had dropped her from the changing table when she was a child.

"And so now I want you to run five laps around this forest," Vaemond explained, and a groan went through the row of students. This man had invented torture. Five laps ? Healthful, my ass. It was like a funeral. Where was the mass grave ?

She looked at Jacaerys, who, as always, was happy about any sporting activity. Lucy pursed her mouth. Her brother was embarrassing. A disgrace to this family. Due to lack of teachers, they assigned her year and Jacaerys' together in sports.

"You are allowed three breaks, five minutes each. The breaks are taken when you have finished one round each. Anyone who does more you will be disqualified."

She hoped he would be disqualified as a teacher. Only 5 minutes break at a time? She would gasp after the first minute. Could someone take this maniac back to the psych ward? The man was born for torture.

"I just hope I don't break a fingernail," she heard Alys' friend say behind her, and she just rolled her eyes. Since Alys had been suspended from school, they'd been running around like helpless sheep, looking for someone to fill the spot Alys had left behind.

Lucy had to admit that she had felt schadenfreude when Baela had told her that Alys would be absent from school for two months. She would have liked to see her go for good, but Alys' uncle Larys Strong was a close friend of Alicent. She was sure he had his fingers in the pie. Lucy wondered if he would do the same for her. Harwin was her father, there was no doubt about that, Larys' older brother, but she had never been able to form a familial bond with him.

"She's even dumber than she looks," Rhaena whispered, and Lucy grinned. Alys and her friends had a lot in common. Their dopiness was one of them.

"Are you really okay?" asked Rhaena suddenly, and Lucy looked at her in surprise. "You didn't get out of bed for days and all of a sudden you're back and it's like nothing happened." She reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. Rhaena had always been the more empathetic of the two twins. While Baela was tough and rebellious, Rhaena was gentle and quiet in nature.

"I feel better," Lucy lied, forcing a smile. What Aemond had done to her had taken a toll on her and she still had nightmares about it in parts, but she wasn't one to give up on herself. Her classmates left her alone and Lucy hoped that was the end of her argument with Aemond.

She looked to her uncle, who stood annoyed in the corner, Aegon beside him, banging his head wearily against the wall behind him. Lucy had to grin at the sight. Aegon was doing what they all wanted to do. Then suddenly Aemond turned his head in her direction and the smile froze on Lucy's face. It was as if he was looking deep into her soul when their eyes met. He was watching her, and Lucy could do nothing but avoid his engaging gaze. Goosebumps ran over her body. Since the incident, her relationship with Aemond was different. She felt more fear in his presence. More reticence. The urge to just crawl into a hole and not come out. He had proven to her that he was the more powerful of the two of them and that she stood no chance against him. She didn't want his attention. She didn't want anything from him.

"Really?" asked Rhaena as she turned her gaze to. Lucy forced herself to smile again and just nodded. Then she followed her classmates and prepared to die of respiratory distress. She would not survive this torture Vaemond Velaryon had devised (the man was evil to the core).

Vaemond whistled into his whistle and the students began to jog, groaning.

"Jogging, not stumble, Lucy," Vaemond shouted, and she wished him the worst diarrhea of his life.

As she jogged. And cursed every moment she chose to rejoin the class. Apparently she wasn't the brightest candle on the cake, otherwise it would have occurred to her to skip gym class.

It was relatively cold outside and it was the last class of the day. Most of them passed Lucy and Jacaerys gave her a deprecating look as he passed her for the second time. Maybe she should tell the story of how he had peed himself after his first horror movie after all.

It did not take long until Lucy was the last. Even Aegon was faster and he did nothing but drink, eat and smoke. She was definitely disgracing her mother, but if she remembered correctly, she had never asked to participate in gym class. A burden that had been imposed on her. Who wanted to volunteer for gym?

Lucy stopped, panting for breath, when she got the first side stitch. She gasped for air like a fish at the surface and looked around. There was no one to be seen far and wide. Rhine theoritically, then no one would notice if she took a shortcut, would they? Lucy looked back again and judged her plan to be good enough to implement. She walked to the edge of the path. She would only have to climb a short distance and then run straight out. In an inconspicuous minute she would blend in with the people.

She grabbed a branch and tried to get a secure foothold with her foot. Below her was a mud pit, a giant big puddle from which there was no escape. She would have to be careful. She gripped the branch tighter. It was a bit tiring but it would work. She tried to grab the second branch. She would just have to-

"Whatever you're trying, it won't work," a voice suddenly said behind her, and Lucy turned around, startled. Aemond stood behind her with his arms folded in front of his chest, watching her with one eyebrow raised. Lucy's hand reached out into space and before she could react, the lack of footing caused her to fall and land with a loud splash in the biggest mud puddle the gods could think up. The mud splashed everywhere and the word mud bath took on a new meaning. She was completely wet from top to bottom.

She looked up, stunned, at Aemond, who was looking at her innocently.

"That's unfortunate."

Regrettable would only be his death if she put her hands around his neck.

"Don't look at me like that, it's not my fault."

"Of course it's your fault. You were distracting me. I had everything under control."

"It didn't look that way."

"Well, it was."

"If you say so."

"Oh just fuck off," Lucy yelled angrily and stood up. The mud was slippery and when she grabbed a tree root, she slipped again and flew back into the mud.

"Sure you don't need help?" asked Aemond innocently.

"Most definitely I don't need your help. Get someone who wouldn't let me die here."

"Hmmm, don't feel like it."

Lucy looked at him, stunned. "Excuse me?"

"No desire. I'm exhausted. Jogging is exhausting."

"You're not even sweating yet."

"Maybe so, but my legs hurt. I'm tired. Just call for help, or..." he stopped and knelt down. He looked down at her with a smile. "Or just ask me for help."

Aemond grinned smugly. He was actually serious. Lucy snorted.

"No way."

"It's just a short little sentence, little Lucy. Aemond, please help me. Give it a try. It does wonders."

"I'd rather drown in here."

Aemond's grin disappeared. He braced his hands on his knees and jumped up.

"Well, have fun. I'll run back now, maybe you'll get lucky and someone will find you by sundown."

Aemond turned and Lucy's eyes widened in shock as he disappeared from her sight. He was really going to leave and leave her here? She shrieked. "Aemond, please stay here," she screamed in panic. "Please help me." How humiliating.

For a moment she thought Aemond had really left her behind, wouldn't respond to her cries for help, before he suddenly reappeared, knelt down and held out his arm.

"There you go," he said smugly, pointing to his arm. "Go on, take my hand."

Lucy looked at him, exhausted, and rolled her eyes. She pushed through the mud and reached for Aemond's hand. The grip was slippery from the mud, and when Aemond tried to pull her up, she slipped and flew back into the mud.

"Fuck," she screamed.

"You need to hold on tighter."

"I did, your hand is slippery."

"I think it's more like your hand is slippery."

They tried again and this time Aemond applied more force. He had almost pulled her up when Lucy slipped again with her leg on the mud. But this time she had gripped his hand too tightly that she didn't let go and instead of just falling back into the mud herself, she pulled Aemond with her. The mud splattered everywhere, turning Aemond's light blond hair a dark brown.

He looked at her, aghast, and Lucy had to laugh. "Sorry," she said, raising her hands apologetically.

"Great job, Lucy," he spat. "Now we're both stuck here."

"Well, what can I do about it? You told me to hold on tighter.

"But if you fall, you're supposed to let go of me."

"You might want to say that before next time."

"Sure, I will when I pull the next one out of the mud. Thanks for the tip, niece."

Lucy couldn't tell at the moment how badly she wanted to punch him.

"Help!," she yelled, but other than her voice echoing through the forest and branches cracking, there was no response. They were trapped here.

Aemond looked for a way to escape from the mud pit, but no matter what he did, he kept slipping.

"Come here," he said suddenly, reaching for Lucy, who flinched in fright. If he was going to kill her now, she wasn't going down without a fight.

"Don't ever touch me again, I'm a white belt in Taekwondo and I'm not afraid to use my learned skills on you."

"Isn't that the belt for beginners?"

Lucy looked at him in irritation. She didn't think he knew that. "Yes, but I was a very advanced beginner."

He said no more and just looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Save your irony!"

"I didn't say anything."

"The look on your face says it all."

"Now I'm not allowed to look?" His voice was full of irony. "I was just trying to lift you up so you could climb up, but as unathletic as you are, that's not going to happen."

"Aemond, just shut up okay?," screeched Lucy. This guy was driving her crazy. It was maddening. "Because of you, we're trapped here and probably going to starve and die."

Aemond was silent for a moment and Lucy hoped the gods had finally heard her.

"Starvation implies that we die."

"That's it, I'll spare you, no, I'll spare myself the pain and kill you."

"You're pretty aggressive."

"You must know."

"I actually do know."

He didn't say it but they both knew what he was talking about. And again it was about his eye. She preferred to remain silent. She signaled for him to lift her up, but that plan didn't work either. They were trapped here and had to hope that the others would quickly notice their absence. The mud was cold and the later it got the colder the air became. Lucy began to freeze and sat down on an excellent rock.

They were trapped here in a mud pit and only because she wanted to be smart enough to take a shortcut. They wouldn't drown here, but the cold would chill their bodies to the point that she was sure they would freeze to death by the next morning if no one rescued them.

Aemond sat across from her. He did not look at her, but Lucy could not take her eyes off him. He had tried to help her, and because of her, she was trapped here now. But no matter how much guilt she felt, she was glad she wasn't alone here. It was dark by now, and she had no idea what time it was. They hadn't spoken to each other the whole time. Lucy was shivering. She was incredibly cold and her eyes burned like fire. Her throat hurt, it was dry and scratchy.

She noticed herself slipping off the stone and at the last moment managed to keep herself from flying into the mud. Aemond looked to her.

"Are you all right?"

"Fantastic."

She was anything but Fantastic. All she wanted to do was get into her warm bed, with a hot water bottle, and never come out. It was so incredibly cold.

She didn't hear Aemond come up to her, but when he touched her, she flinched.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," he tried to reassure her, putting his ice-cold hand to her forehead. Then on her cheek. His touch was gentle. She didn't know this gentleness from him. He was usually rough with her. "You're hot."

"Thank you."

"No, I mean you have a fever."

Lucy tried to keep her eyes open. "That's nice." She had no idea what Aemond was even talking about. She leaned next to him and his cool skin, despite the cold, gave her a soothing chill before she started to freeze again.

"Do you think anyone else is coming?"

"They'll probably be looking for us already. Be quiet, and get some rest." She felt him put an arm around her and press her against his chest. He warmed her with his body and gave her support so she wouldn't sink into the mud. Although she hated Aemond, she felt safe in his arms. At the moment there was nothing more beautiful for her than to sit there and feel protected by him. How ironic, considering that just a few days ago she had felt just the opposite. But she blamed it on her fever, which was tormenting her more with each passing second. She suddenly became too tired. She grew weak in his arms and she felt Aemond hugging her harder. A tingling sensation ran over her body.

"Aemond?"

He exhaled in annoyance.

"Can't you be quiet for once? I told you to shut up."

"Okay..."

It wasn't even a minute before she opened her mouth again.

"Aemond?"

She didn't see it, but she felt him roll his eye.

"Hmmm?"

"About your eye. I'm really sorry."

Taglist

@watercolorskyy @marvelescvpe @ammo23 @launotfound @ladylyanna91 @queenofthekeep @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @aemondsfavouritebastard @belcalis9503 @aemtargswh0re @slutforderekhale

[whatthetumblfck]

For As Long As You Need Me

(This is my first ever fanfic. I hope you enjoy!)

- Over 6K words

Content: swearing, hurt/comfort, fluff, OC (Y/N), Bucky Barnes

Summary: A recent mission turns out some unexpected results, and you end up a little (alot) worse for wear.  

**Please do not repost my work**

You reluctantly trudged into the meeting room of the Avenger’s compound for yet another briefing on yet another mission. You loved being an Avenger, but you were tired. You had literally just gotten off the Quinjet from your last mission and were still wearing your tac suit. Your last mission was supposed to be an easy extraction. A simple grab-and-go of a HYDRA operative for intel. The “one day” mission turned into a week and ended with enemy blood on your suit and seaweed in your boots, among other places. You weren’t normally one to complain, but damnit, you could use a shower and a decent meal.

Haphazardly, you flopped into one of the chairs, propped your elbow on the table and rested your chin in your hand. You puffed out your cheeks and forcefully exhaled, as if, somehow, that would lessen your fatigue. At the head of the table, Steve smiled politely as he waited for you to settle. Across from you, however, Bucky stared at you, unimpressed with your apparent tardiness. Your stare shifted awkwardly between super-soldiers as you tried to rub the soreness out of your neck.

“So nice of you to join us,” Bucky remarked sarcastically.

You glared back at him, clearly not in the mood for his bullshit right now. And you sure as hell don’t have the energy to entertain it with a comeback.

“So, now that we’re all here…” Steve began formally, “we received intel on an abandoned HYDRA base that we believe house the files we’ve been looking for—”

“What about the asshole I just grabbed?” You interrupted, “I’m sure he can provide whatever information you need. And besides, I just got back. I’m tired and I’m dying for a sho—”

“Y/N, we need this. No one else is available.” Steve was using his Captain America voice now. “It’ll be a quick in-and-out, but we need to move now before they realize their info was leaked.”

You stared into Steve’s hardened gaze for a moment, searching for any sign that he might budge on this. Unfortunately, you found nothing.

You sighed. “Ok. Fine. When do we leave?”

“Meet Bucky on the jet in 20.” And with that, Steve left the room, leaving you with your thoughts.

Fuck. Maybe if you hurry, you’ll have time to shower and change your suit.  You stood up suddenly, not even noticing how Bucky was already standing by the door, scowling at you.

“You better hurry, princess. Don’t expect me to wait around for you again.”

“What the fuck is your problem, Barnes?” You spat at him.

“Me? I don’t have a problem.” He feigned indifference.

“Then why are you acting like a dick?!”  This isn’t the first time you and Bucky had been at each other’s throats. You were relatively new to the Avengers team, but you were far from incompetent. You trained hard, maybe even harder than everyone else, because you knew you needed to, to keep up with super soldiers, highly trained assassins, and expert marksmen. You feel you have proved yourself time and time again in the field, yet it never seemed good enough for Bucky Barnes.

Bucky was in your face now, mere inches away, and he was pissed. Oh shit. Maybe you went a little too far with the ‘dick’ comment.

“Maybe I wouldn’t act like a dick if you weren’t such a stuck-up, self-entitled bitch!”

Nope. No. You didn’t take it too far. You regret nothing now. You could feel your blood start to boil, your fists clenching at your sides. You know better than to try to take on a super soldier and, truth be told, you didn’t want to fight Bucky, not really. You liked him, probably more than you should. Even if you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. But, damn, he was really pissing you off today.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I work my ass off and I don’t ask for anything from anyone!” You huffed, chest heaving with anger.

Clearly, he had struck a nerve and as he seemed to notice this, a devilish grin spread across his face. He leaned in even closer and suddenly you were anxious, the anger in your features fading into unease. Is he doing this on purpose, trying to make you nervous? You stare relentlessly into his pale blue eyes, daring yourself to hold your ground, when all you wanted to do was melt into a puddle. Damn it, Y/N! Focus! He is an asshole and you are angry. Don’t look at his lips, don’t look at his lips, don’t look at his l—FUCK! You looked at his lips. You know he noticed; he misses nothing.  You averted your eyes and abruptly turned towards the door, your back turned to Bucky, desperately trying to find the rage that was long gone at this point.

Bucky straightened his posture and exaggeratedly inhaled, flaring his nostrils.

“Oh, and Y/N? You fucking stink.” His features twisted, resembling something close to disgust. “Maybe take a shower once in a while.”

Ah, there it is. You welcomed back the rage with open arms. It helped you focus.

You whipped your head around, irritation seeping from your pores. You scowled at him with the intention to kill, if looks could do it. But as much as you wanted to punch that stupid smirk off his ridiculously beautiful face, you didn’t have the time.

“Fuck you, Barnes!” And with that, you stormed out of the conference room to prepare for the mission.

Bucky watched as you angrily marched to your room, his eyes lit with a sense of accomplish, before slowly settling into a haze of uncertainty.

  Fueled by the rage brought on by your less than pleasant interaction with Bucky, you showered quickly, silently cursing the steel-blue eyed super-soldier and his fucking attitude. You started to feel small hints of insecurities formed by Bucky’s words, but quickly pushed them aside. You weren’t going to allow yourself to spiral like that. Not right now. By the time you had donned a clean tac suit and gathered your weapons of choice, you had resolved to not let his comments bother you. After all, you were far too tired to waste the energy on this any longer. Your plan was to sit as far away from Bucky as you could on the jet, read the file and, if you had time, squeeze in a quick nap before you land. You tightened your thigh holster and slipped the blade into place before sprinting to the jet.

As you climbed up the ramp, you glanced at your watch. One minute to spare. Ha! Take that, tin man! Of course, Bucky was already at the controls, adjusting the coordinates for auto-pilot. Without sparing another glance in his direction, you grabbed a file from the bench and tucked yourself into a corner. You started to skim through the information, but fatigue hit you full force and you felt your eyelids grow heavy. You didn’t realize that you fell asleep until you were startled awake by the sound of the file you were holding crashing to the ground. Your eyes shot open wide and you leaned over to pick up the folder, looking over at Bucky, who was now sitting across from you a few seats down. You sighed, waiting for the inevitable smart-ass remark Bucky was sure to make, but nothing was ever spoken. He simply looked at you in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before. What was it? Was it concern, maybe? Compassion? Curiosity? After a second, you tore your tired eyes away from him and looked at your watch. It had only been 30 minutes. You still have a few hours of the flight left. With that thought, you placed the file on the floor and slid down on your side, nestling into the seat. In a matter of seconds, you were asleep.

 You were awoken by the sensation of the jet descending to land. Your head felt foggy, and your mouth was dryer than the Sahara.  You winced as you attempted to swallow, feeling like your throat was lined with razor blades. You sat up slowly, your head spinning from the change in position. Fuck. Fucking fuck. You knew exactly what this was. This was Karma coming back to bite you in the ass for that time you put salt in Bucky’s lemonade instead of sugar. It was hilarious at the time. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to gather yourself and align your thoughts with the mission. It’s just a two mile walk to the car. Easy. Then a 40-minute drive to the base. Break in, find the files, get out and get back to the jet. With a final jolt, the jet landed, and Bucky appeared from the cockpit.  You stood up quickly, briefly using the wall to steady yourself, and began gathering your things. You didn’t want Bucky to catch on to the fact that you were getting sick. You can practically hear him making some comment about slowing him down or expecting special treatment and you weren’t having any of it. You always work hard, pulling your own weight and you weren’t about to let a little cold stop you from doing your job.

You threw your bag over your shoulder and headed for the ramp, trying to avoid looking at Bucky. You were still kind of pissed about what he said earlier and—oh no- --aahh choo! You sneezed: not once, not twice, but three times. You froze, turning your head slightly to the side to catch a glimpse of Bucky, feeling like you’d been made. He was staring at you impassively. You paused, trying to decide if you should say something, attempt to maintain the illusion of perfect health, but your sass came out instead.

“What? No smartass comment?” You prompted, sounding congested. Damnit, Y/N. Should’ve kept your mouth shut.

A crooked smile crept onto his face. “No, not at all. I was going to ask if you were allergic to hard work, but we didn’t actually do anything yet so…”

You narrowed your eyes at him, debating on throwing one of your knives at his head, but he would just deflect it. Suddenly, malaise hit you like a freight train, and you lost your resolve, really starting to feel like shit. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, trying to push the feeling aside, but you couldn’t shake it. No longer wanting to linger around Bucky, you turned to slowly walk down the ramp, trying to reserve whatever energy had left. You didn’t even look behind you to see if Bucky was following you as began walking in the direction of the car that was waiting a couple miles away. One step at time. Just get to the car.

Bucky followed you down the ramp, taking note of the sudden drop in your mood. He stayed in step with your pace, realizing you were walking much slower than normal, especially for being angry. Although, he had noticed the fire leave your eyes back on the ramp. “Hey,” he gently called out to you. You didn’t answer him. “Y/N,” a little louder. Still no answer. He quickened his stride to stand in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from moving forward. You widened your eyes at the abrupt halt, an obvious look of surprise on your face. Confused, you looked down at his hand on your left shoulder and he quickly dropped his hands, worried he may have a crossed a boundary. You looked back up to his face, taking in his furrowed brow, his sincere eyes, before moving down to his perfectly plump lips. His mouth was moving, but you didn’t hear what he said.

“What?” you asked, seemingly dumbfounded.

“I’ve been calling your name. You didn’t answer me. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? We can take a break if you—”

“NO! No..I said I’m fine, Barnes. Let’s go.” There was no way you were going to show any sign of weakness, especially in front of Bucky. You’d never hear the end of it. He let out a sigh as you pushed past him and kept walking.

When you reached the car, Bucky grabbed the key from under the wheel well as you dropped down into the passenger seat. Bucky was surprised when you didn’t insist on driving. You normally would and then make some comment about chauvinism. He smiled at the thought. As he approached the driver’s side door, he paused and leaned down into the window to look at you. You were leaning back on the head rest and your eyes were closed. Bucky studied your form for a moment, admiring your toned legs, evident even through your tac suit, trailing up to your smooth belly, smiling at your delicate hands, fingers meshed as they rested in your lap. His eyes were slowly traveling upwards when you suddenly let out a small whine, quickly drawing his attention to your face. It was then he noticed how flush your face was. Your cheeks were a striking scarlet and harsh against your paling complexion.

He opened the car door, startling you. You straightened up and kept your eyes trained out the windshield. Your hand gingerly rubbed the back of your neck, desperate to be rid of the soreness from your previous mission. After a moment, you realized Bucky was looking at you, but you were afraid to turn towards him. It was getting harder and harder to keep up this charade. You just wanted to get this mission over with and get back home to your warm, comfy bed.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

You closed your eyes, put on your best poker face, and shifted in your seat to face him. When you opened your eyes again, you saw nothing but concern etched on his face. Of course. He’s worried you’re going to screw up this mission. He picked up on the fact that you’re a little under the weather and now he must think you can’t get the job done.

“Are you okay?”

“Barnes- will you stop asking me that? I’m fine.”

“Your cheeks are red.” He reached his flesh hand up towards your forehead, but you instinctually leaned back, avoiding his touch, afraid to let your guard down and reveal how terrible you were actually feeling. He frowned and dropped his hand.

“Yeah, well. It’s cold and windy.”

“Not that cold.” He challenged you, voice saturated with unease.

“Says the super-soldier.”

His eyes searched your face, willing you to open up to him. After a moment, he resigned, turning his eyes to the road and starting the car. Feeling temporarily off the hook, you let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You looked out the window, your mind trying to make sense of how differently Bucky was acting. He had never really acted like he cared before and you weren’t sure what it all meant. Fatigue eventually won you over and you drifted off to sleep. Bucky glanced over at you as he drove, noticing the change in your breathing, signaling you had fallen asleep. He fought the urge to reach out and touch you, thinking about how you avoided his touch earlier. He was worried about you. Something is clearly going on with you, though he can’t really blame you for not confiding in him. He’s been an absolute dick, especially lately. He doesn’t understand why he acts this way. He doesn’t hate you, not at all. But acting like he hates you is easier than dealing with his real feelings towards you.

Bucky parks the car a few hundred yards from the abandoned HYDRA base and looks you over once more. Your cheeks are still red, dark circles hung under your eyes and he now noticed small beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. He softly called your name and gently nudged your arm with his elbow to wake you.

You slowly opened your eyes and tried to reorient yourself. You looked at Bucky. He gave you a small smile and slight nod before exiting the car to gather his gear. You took note of the headache now throbbing behind your eyes and the new tightness in your chest. Something about this just didn’t feel right. You’ve never gotten this sick this quickly before. What the hell is going on? You carefully stepped out of the car and leaned against it, fighting off the dizziness and wave of nausea that followed. Thankfully, Bucky didn’t notice. Except that he did. You didn’t realize he was watching you as you paused to regain your bearings. You gathered your strength and joined Bucky at the trunk of the car to grab your weapons, just in case.

After checking your pistol, you holstered it and quickly pulled your hair back into a ponytail. Bucky’s eyes widened as they immediately land on the back of your neck.

“What the hell is that? Are you hurt?” He urged, stepping closer to you.

“What?” You asked, completely oblivious to what he was asking.

“Your neck.” He moved even closer to you, reaching his arms out to the collar of your suit. You turned to face him, feeling self-conscious, not wanting to expose any part of yourself, but he wasn’t going to drop this. “Just…. let me look. Please.”

You stared into his pale blue eyes, laced with trepidation. Bucky is normally so calm and collected. It unnerved you to see this degree of concern. You turned around, giving him permission. He gently pulled your collar down further to reveal a large circular bruise, varying shades of purple and black sitting right above the base of your neck. And in the middle of the circle, a small drop of dried blood.

“Y/N, what the hell happened on your last mission?”

“What do you mean? What is it?” The worry inside you starting to grow.

“There’s a huge bruise…and blood. What happened?”

“I---” You thought hard. “I don’t know. We went to grab some HYDRA douchebag at one of their medical facilities. There were more guards than what we anticipated. I mean, I got hit, but it wasn’t that bad- didn’t even knock me down.” You turned to face Bucky again. “What’s going on?”

Bucky’s face relaxed slightly. Either he wasn’t that worried after all or he was putting on a mask for your benefit. “You’re sure you’re feeling okay?” He pressed once again.

“Yeah….let’s get the damn files already.” The desperation to get home was beginning to overwhelm you. You started heading for the base, but Bucky grabbed your arm.

“You would tell me if something was bothering you, right? If something was wrong?”

You locked eyes with him again. You didn’t want to lie to him, but you didn’t want to look incompetent and weak either. “Yeah, of course, Barnes. Let’s go.” A look lingered on his face that told you he didn’t believe you. You pushed forward anyway.

The abandoned base was not so abandoned, but it wasn’t anything you and Bucky couldn’t handle. The base wasn’t huge, but you insisted on splitting up to get out of there faster. Bucky took the hallway to the left and you took the right. After taking down your sixth guard, you felt winded and your chest tightened even further. You pressed your hand to the center of your chest, trying to calm your breathing. What the fuck. This wasn’t like you at all, but here you were, struggling to keep up with the onslaught of HYDRA trash. You jogged down the hall and after a few minutes, stumbled upon a computer room.

“I think I found it,” you breathlessly muttered into the comms.

“I’ll be right there.” You heard the sound of gunshots echoing through the hall.

You pulled the flash drive out of your front pocket and inserted it into the computer. You tried to bypass their firewalls, but your head was pounding and you could barely concentrate. Something is very wrong here. Before you could put any more thought into it, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and pulled your knife from your thigh holster. Thankfully, it was just Bucky. You had no idea he had entered the room and you internally reprimanded yourself for not noticing. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you in disbelief as you put your knife away. He quickly looked you over for injuries, noticing that you were drenched in sweat as you ran your sleeve across your forehead. You blinked your eyes several times, refocused yourself and began uploading the content onto the drive, while Bucky paced the room, keeping a lookout.

“Got it.” The files finally finished uploading and you pulled the drive and placed it back into your pocket.  You followed Bucky into the hallway and pulled your gun from the holster, preparing for any remaining HYDRA agents. You searched and cleared each room and were almost out of the building when a sudden chill ran up your spine making you shiver. You unwillingly slowed your pace, and your hands began to shake. You looked down at your hands and back up at Bucky who was now several steps ahead of you. A devastating surge of dizziness overpowered you and you stumbled, falling into the wall in an effort to keep yourself standing. Oh shit. Oh shit. Shit. Your vision blurred and blackness began to creep into the edges.

“Bucky…..” you called out weakly, barely managing a whisper. You couldn’t see him clearly. You didn’t know if he heard you or if he even realized you had stopped. “Bucky?” you said a little louder, desperation coating your voice.

Bucky turned to see you, several feet back, leaning against a wall, the color drained from your face. “Y/N? Fuck!” He ran back, reaching you just as you fell to your hands and knees. He cupped your face in his hands, guiding you to look at him, as you tried to lean your back against the wall.

“Talk to me, doll. What’s going on? Are you hurt?” He frantically ran his eyes over you, fearing he missed something before.

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. “I- I don’t know.” Your breathing was uneven and shakey now. “I haven’t felt right since I got back from that mission. I thought it was just a cold or something, but this is worse. So much worse. I’ve never felt this bad before.” Your eyes stung with tears, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. To hell with being strong, you felt like you were dying. You opened your eyes, tears spilling over and running down your cheeks. You fisted your hands in your hair, feeling like your head was about to split open. Your lungs burned with every breath, your arms and legs ached down to the bone, feeling heavier and weaker by the minute. A sob broke out from your chest. Bucky ran his hand over your forehead and rested it on the back of your neck. You were burning up. Then Bucky remembered the strange circular bruise he saw on your earlier.

Immediately, Bucky pulled out his phone. You tried to remain calm, slow your breathing and clear your vision, but it wasn’t working, and you were so tired. You just wanted to close your eyes and sleep. The sound of Bucky’s worried voice broke through your thoughts.

“Steve? We have a problem. There’s something wrong with Y/N……I don’t know! She’s sick-- it happened fast—her last mission, what was it?.......Fuck! Why didn’t you tell her?!.........Steve, I think-I think they injected her with something. There’s a mark on her neck…..Fuck! Okay…..got it.” He put his phone away and looked down at your face again. Your eyes were closed and your head drifted down. “Hey, hey- open your eyes! Sweetheart, you gotta look at me.” He gently tapped your cheek and lifted your chin. You painfully lifted your eyelids, just enough to comply with his command. “We gotta go. Stay awake.”  

He slid his arms underneath your shoulders and thighs with ease, gently hugging you to his chest to steady you as he took off down the hall and out of the building. Before you could even register what was happening, Bucky was placing you into the passenger side of the car.

“Bucky…..what’s…..what’s going on?” You were so confused and tired.

“We think you were injected with something on your last mission. Some kind of biological weapon HYDRA was working on. That’s why you were sent to grab that scientist, to find out what they were doing.”

You could feel tears gathering in your eyes again.  “Why didn’t they tell me?”

“They didn’t know, not until they interrogated the scientist you brought in.”

A small whimper escaped your lips as you brought your knees up to your chest, curling in yourself. You were sweating profusely but felt like you were sitting in ice as you began to shake violently from the chills racking your body. Bucky reached out to you, this time without hesitation, and placed his hand on your back to rub comforting circles.

“You’re gonna be okay. Just hang on, doll. We’re almost to the jet.” Bucky tried to stay calm for your sake, but inside, he was screaming. They didn’t know what this was or if there was anything they could do to stop it. He was afraid of losing you.

Bucky drove and parked the car closer to the jet than he should have but fuck the plan and fuck protocol. No one was following you and he needed to get you back to the compound as soon as possible. You managed to stay awake and opened the car door, attempting to stand on shaking legs. You took a step forward but didn’t have the strength to remain standing. Your knees buckled underneath you and you fell, crashing into Bucky’s chest as he rounded the car to help you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled weakly.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He scooped you up into his arms again and carried you onto the jet, laying you down on the seat.  He disappeared into the cockpit and set the controls, before returning to your trembling figure. Silent tears slid down your cheek and vanished into your hair. You curled in on yourself even further. You squirmed in the seat and let out a small whimper; you were in so much pain. Your muscles spasmed painfully as chills continued to rack your body. Your breaths came short and fast, your chest feeling more constricted. Through all this you could feel your energy dwindling, Bucky’s heart was breaking, watching you suffer so immensely and not being able to do anything about it. He sat down beside you and lifted your head to lay it in his lap. He stroked your hair, brushing strands out of your face as you continued to shake.

You hadn’t spoken in a while. Bucky could tell that you were losing strength. You were giving up. He needed to keep you focused on something, anything.

“Doll, I—” then his phone rang. He stood slowly, gently placing your head back on the seat before answering.

“Steve?.......she’s, uh…..she’s not good, man……she’s burning up and she can’t stop shaking. I….” He turned his back to you, whispering now. “I think she’s giving up……okay…we’ll land in 20 minutes…… Right.” He ended the call. With his back still turned to you, Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked back tears that were threatening his eyes.

“Bucky?”

Bucky whipped his head around, surprised to see you sitting up, but you looked worse. Your expression was blank, eyes vacant, and you began to sway. You didn’t feel right, but this was different. Your head was spinning, and you swallowed thickly, trying to keep yourself from getting sick.  

“I don’t --”

Bucky took a hurried step toward you and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you collapsed onto the floor of the jet.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Bucky was on his knees at your side, rolling you onto your back. He tried to shake you awake, but you weren’t responding. He watched your chest, relieved to see you were still breathing, though your shallow breaths were barely visible. He placed his fingers to your neck, finding a weak pulse.

“Come on, doll! I need you to wake up. Come on.” He pleaded with you, but you couldn’t hear him.  He stayed with you, only leaving your side to land the jet. He carried you down the ramp, running to the medical team that was waiting just outside, placing you on the gurney. Steve was waiting there too.

“What happened?” Steve demanded information as he and Bucky followed the medical team rushing you into the compound.

“I don’t know. She was acting different. She didn’t look well, kept falling asleep. I saw that bruise on her neck.” Bucky nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “Then we were leaving the base and she got dizzy, couldn’t walk, and started shaking. She was shaking so bad.” Steve could tell Bucky was struggling to keep it together and rested his hand on his shoulder. “She passed out right before we landed. I couldn’t get her to wake up…I- I should have said something sooner. I should have called off the mission the second I knew something wasn’t right.” Bucky took a deep breath and rubbed his palms into his eyes.

“It’s okay, pal. You couldn’t have known. You got her here. The doctors will figure it out.” Steve patted Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky sat in the chair beside your bed, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. You were still unconscious. You wore an oxygen mask and IVs in both arms. As much as it pained Bucky to see you this way, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. After intense persuasion from Captain America, the HYDRA scientist had revealed an antiviral treatment. They started the treatment a few hours after you had arrived back at the compound. That was a couple days ago, and you had yet to wake up. The doctors had told Bucky your fever was dangerously high, and they weren’t sure how it was going to affect your brain. A tear ran down his cheek as guilt continued to consume him. He knew something was wrong at the start of the mission and because he had acted like a dick and said such mean things to you, you didn’t feel like you could confide in him. Now, you were laying in this hospital bed with the potential to never recover.

On the third day, you opened your eyes. Bucky was resting his head on the side of your bed. You reached your hand up, trying to grasp the oxygen mask that rested over your face. This startled Bucky and he jumped up, gently wrapping his hands around your wrists and bringing them to your sides.

“Hey- hey. You gotta leave that on, doll.” A huge smile spread across his face. He thought he would never see your beautiful eyes again.  As quickly as his smile came, it faded, as he registered the lingering confusion on your face. He realized that you might not be the same person you were a few days ago. The doctor’s words swirled in his head. Potential brain damage. Memory issues. Physical disabilities. The truth is, they just didn’t know and now that you were awake, Bucky was facing the harsh reality of the situation. Your breaths came in short and rushed. Bucky saw the confusion in your eyes morph into fear, a few tears escaping the brims.

“Bucky….” Your voice cracked.

He breathed a huge sigh of relief. You knew him. He sat back down, holding your hands in his.

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” He brushed your tears away with his thumb before taking your hand back in his. “Do you remember what happened?”

Your eyes darted back and forth, looking for memories that weren’t coming. You shook your head faintly.

Bucky swallowed hard, preparing himself to recount the events of the past few days.

“We were on a mission and….you got sick.  HYDRA had injected you with a new virus. Something they designed. You got hit on a previous mission but didn’t realize what they had done. None of us did. But we found out about a treatment and you’re okay now. You’re safe.”

The memories suddenly flooded back to you, realization casting a shadow on your face.

“I thought I was going to die…” you remembered.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I knew something wasn’t right from the beginning and I should have ended the mission right then. Maybe if I had, it wouldn’t have been so bad. “

You looked up at him with incredulity. “Bucky, it’s okay. This isn’t your fault. I should have said something, but I was too stubborn. I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it, that I was weak.”

“Because I was being such an asshole.”

“Yeah, you were” the corner of your mouth curved up into a half smile and Bucky chuckled. You still had your spark. “….but why?”

Bucky was silent for several moments. “Because I like you. But I don’t deserve to have someone like you. I thought if I said enough hateful things, it would help me keep my distance, convince myself that I don’t have these feelings.”

You were silent, unsure of how to respond. Then you realized that Bucky was holding your hands, as he brought the back of your hand up to place a gentle kiss there.

“Bucky….” You began and he chuckled. “What?”

“You always called me Barnes. You never called me Bucky until….you got sick.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t realized you had dropped the façade. “I guess I just got tired of pretending that….that I don’t like you. But I do…..like you….A LOT.” You felt your cheeks growing red with embarrassment. There’s no going back now.

You hesitantly looked at Bucky and couldn’t help but smile. He wore the biggest smile you have ever seen.

____________________________________________________________________________________

The next day, you had recovered enough to be discharged from the medical wing. You insisted you could walk back to your room, waving away the nurse when he brought a wheelchair. You sat on the edge of your hospital bed, struggling to pull on your shoes. You had already managed your sweatpants, t-shirt, and socks, but even just that left you exhausted. You were feeling much better, but your body still ached, and fatigue seemed to find you quickly with even the smallest of tasks. Fuck it. You don’t need shoes. You huffed in frustration, weakly throwing your sneakers across the room. When you looked up, you noticed Bucky entering your room, twisting slightly to dodge the footwear assault.

He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise before realization settled onto his face. “You okay?” He asked gently before picking your sneakers up off the floor.  He calmly kneeled in front of you, slipping your shoes on each foot, with ease. At first, you couldn’t answer, your eyes avoiding him and the situation.

“I just hate this….I can’t even put on my damn shoes.” You felt defeated. And tired. Really fucking tired.

Bucky, still kneeling in front of you, lifted your chin with one finger, so your eyes were level with his.

“Y/N, you almost died a few days ago. Cut yourself some slack. Your strength will return, and you’ll be kicking ass again in no time.” His mouth curved into a soothing smile. You nodded your head, still feeling displeased with yourself. “You ready?” he continued, offering his hand.

You took his hand, gripping tightly as he helped you stand. The walk back to your private room in the compound was slow and tortuous. You had to take several breaks, but Bucky was more than patient. He was understanding and compassionate. You wished you had the chance to know this Bucky long before now. He was being sweet, and you were really enjoying it.

You were extremely relieved when your bed came into view. Bucky helped you into it, seeing the exhaustion taking over. He left the bedroom without saying a word, and you felt the panic rise in your chest. For the first time, you really felt his absence. You didn’t want to be alone. You felt tears prick at your eyes and you settled back against your pillow, trying to keep your tears at bay. Then you heard the closing of a cupboard door and Bucky reappeared, holding a glass of water and some Tylenol.  Bucky looked you over, settling on your glassy eyes.  

His eyes narrowed. “Hey, what’s wrong? Does something hurt?” He moved to place the glass and pills on the nightstand next your bed. He brought his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of your face as he sat on the edge of your bed.

You softly shook your head. “I thought you left.” You admitted.

He stayed quiet, considering what you said, his hand coming to rest behind your head. “Did you want me to leave?” He looked heartbroken.

You didn’t want him to leave, ever.  But you weren’t sure how to say that without sounding completely pathetic. You always tried to keep up with your tough exterior and you were uncomfortable with all this vulnerability you had been showing lately. When you didn’t say anything, Bucky stood and headed for the door.

“Bucky- wait!” You panicked at the thought of actually being alone this time. “I don’t want to be alone. Please…will you stay with me?”

Bucky stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you.

The genuine smile on his face, warmed you in a way you had never felt before. You moved over in the bed, pulling back the cover, inviting Bucky to lay with you. He pulled off his boots and slid into the bed behind you, wrapping his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. You had never felt safer than you had at this moment. It almost surprised you with ‘at home’ you feel in his arms.

“Bucky?” you whispered. “Thank you for being there for me.” You weren’t just talking about today.

“Of course, doll.” He placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “For as long as you need me.”

[imtrashraccoon]

This writing request comes from my friend @gamemasterofscratch who requested Dr. Baggs being comforted as he's always so stressed and busy. I decided to try my hand at writing in third person for the first time in a while and chose the Reader-Insert character from the Bad Sansuary challenge I wrote, "Have Some Empathy, Dear." (I hope you like it, even if it isn't how I usually write!)

Dr. Baggs belongs to @/megalommi

CW: Mind control against an unwilling person. Nothing explicit happens though.

Doctor's Orders

Dr. Baggs & Female!OC

Word Count: 3,397

Careful...this next part was especially sensitive.

His phalanges trembled ever so slightly as he started to pour the contents of one beaker into another one. He only needed a drop, any more would ruin the experiment and mean the last twelve hours of work had been wasted.

He had taken the necessary precautions of course, just like he always did, even if his bones weren't as frail as many other's bodies were. He had thick black rubber gloves on that covered his entire forearms, a white lab coat that was specially treated to be fireproof, and he was even wearing safety goggles in case there was an explosion.

He narrowed his eye sockets as he scrutinized the bright pink liquid that he was trying to add to another beaker that contained an ashy powder. There was no guarantee that replicating it was even possible. He still had to try though. It would change everything if he could successfully make a synthetic version of that peculiar substance that humans produced naturally. There was no limit to how useful their own version of Determination could be.

Why, he would never have to worry so much about monsters losing hope and falling down. The Guard could have stronger soldiers that could evenly match the most competent human ones, not they weren't already capable in combat that is. He could even break the barrier and reclaim the surface for Monsterkind if he so chose. Not that he was sure that was even feasible in the first place.

A drop of the pink liquid landed on the small pile of ash and...nothing...

He held his breath and studied the beaker closely for several long minutes. When still nothing happened, he finally caved and added another tiny drop, just hoping that it was a fluke. He couldn't have messed something up, he just couldn't have!

A small puff of smoke curled up from the ashes, flooding his nasal cavity with an acrid stench that forced him to take a few steps away from his desk.

He clenched his fists, the rubber material of his gloves crying out in protest, and grit his teeth so harshly that he felt a small jolt of pain in the back of his skull.

wonderful job, sans... you've failed again...

As soon as the thought entered his skull, he frowned and tore off the goggles. He hadn't gone by that name in years, so why had it returned to him at a time like this?!

With a huff, he threw the eye wear at the far wall. The action wasn't nearly enough to placate his growing frustration and with a growl, he turned his attention to the desk. He swept everything to the floor and pounded a clenched fist onto the metal surface, hardly registering the pain from doing so.

Now he'd made a mess of his work area that he'd have to thoroughly clean up. It was a pain to get Monster dust off of anything, let alone that synthesized mixture his assistant had invented. The only good side was that this room had been constructed from easily sterilized materials.

He was so tired.

Yet no matter how hard he had tried to find a remedy in the past, he couldn't sleep. While having more time to dedicate to his work was helpful, it was also detrimental for his health to constantly be burning the candle at both ends.

Dr. Alphys had called him a workaholic once and he'd laughed. She was right though. He couldn't leave well enough alone or stop working for a moment, lest he fall behind some unseen competitor.

He took a few deep breaths and counted backwards from ten. It was such a simple technique but humans certainly knew what they were talking about when it came to psychology. Now if only they had information in their books on how to counteract magical insomnia...

Rubbing small circles over his sphenoid bone, or where his temples would approximately be if he had flesh, he did his best to ease the tension and stress that had built up inside his soul. His frontal lobe felt sensitive too, like he was about to get a migraine, which he really didn't want to deal with right now.

Something set his instincts on high alert. It was a soft sound, like someone had scuffed their foot against the tiled floor when they'd taken a step.

His skull whipped in the direction of the intruder.

His eye sockets widened when he realized they weren't a Monster at all, but a Human. One he'd never seen before either, which was impossible, what with all the surveillance systems scattered around the Underground that he personally oversaw.

They appeared to be a woman with shoulder length dark hair that had loose ringlets at the ends. She had a lighter complexion compared to some humans he'd interacted with and striking eyes that seemed like a mix of green and blue. She was dressed causally in a simple striped cardigan and a pair of black jeans. Interestingly, she also seemed to have some sort of thin plating poking out from her clothes that kind of resembled armour.

She was also taller than him, by at least six or seven inches. Granted, most people were taller than he was, but it was another factor he found concerning about her.

The weird thing was that she was just watching him. All other humans had at least tried to attack him or flee on sight. So why wasn't she?

Forcing himself to relax, he let his arms hang loosely at his sides in an attempt to appear non-threatening for the moment. "can i help you?" he asked, his clear baritone voice easily carrying across the room to her.

She shook her head, although he didn't fail to notice the glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. He could also tell that she was a little nervous, although she was trying to seem relaxed like he was. Her shoulders were rather stiff and with the way her feet were spaced apart, he could tell she was readying herself to flee if he made any sudden movements.

"I was about to ask you that same question," she responded. She let out a bit of an awkward chuckle but made no moves to approach him.

He shook his skull. "i don't need any help you think you can provide, human." He didn't really mean to sound hostile but he couldn't help it.

She seemed completely unfazed though. "That's okay then."

"who are you?" he asked.

She got a strange look on her face and the corners of her lips quirked up slightly. "Well, I have a lot of names, but you can call me...Minty."

He could only look at her blankly. Someone was messing with him, surely. Where had this odd human even come from? She hadn't popped out of nowhere, right? He needed to buy some time and maybe get an idea of what was happening.

Folding his arms behind his back, he drew himself up to his full height and briefly regarded the woman in front of him. "my name is dr. baggs and if you aren't interested in a fight, i have some questions for you..."

She smiled in a more genuine way which was slightly reassuring. "Of course, so long as you let me ask a few of my own."

Baggs nodded and gestured to a rolling chair next to another desk. "feel free to sit down and make yourself comfortable." When the human did so, he pulled another chair over and sat down, although he was careful to stay just out of her reach.

"how did you sneak past all the cameras and get into my lab?" he asked.

She laced her fingers together in her lap and fiddled with her fingernails. Her posture still seemed tense but she appeared calm at the moment.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said with a slight chuckle.

He raised a bonebrow suspiciously. "try me, i've seen a lot of things that many would consider unbelievable."

She seemed concerned and her eyebrows furrowed as she considered it. After a moment, she made up her mind and looked up at him again.

"Alright, if you say so. The truth is that I'm not from this world and...a friend dropped me off here."

He understood why she didn't think he'd believe her. In the past he'd theorized about the existence of alternate timelines or even a multiverse, however it hadn't been feasible to explore such theories. He still didn't have the ability to properly do so and even if he did, it could prove dangerous to his own timeline. Who knew what entities existed beyond the veil of reality?

He tapped his clavicle with a phalanx in a thoughtful way. "i see...then why are you here? what do you want from me?" he asked carefully.

She opened her mouth to answer but shut it again with a frown. After a couple seconds of contemplation, she tried again.

"I'm here because of you..."

"why is that?"

She took a deep breath and made eye contact with him. "I can sense how stressed you are and...how your soul is crying out in pain," she stated.

Baggs was a little surprised at how frank she was being right now. Still, he couldn't help but remain on edge. He knew how dangerous humans could be, even without magic, but he was a bit curious how she could sense his emotions.

"how do you know this?"

She pursed her lips as she tried to figure out the best way to answer his question. "It's a little complicated to explain but I've always had a talent for reading how people are feeling. I wouldn't exactly call it magic but it has similarities."

He wasn't sure what to think about how vague her answer was, but he didn't like this situation at all. She was pretending to act casual but he could tell that she was just as, if not more, on edge than he was. Yet she had been polite and actually had tried to relieve some of the tension between them. There was one thing that wasn't sitting well with him though and that was the fact that she seemed to want something from him.

Her gaze shifted from him and towards the discarded experiment on the floor. "I'm guessing whatever happened is why you're so stressed right now, huh?"

"you would be correct."

"Did you want to tell me about it?"

When he didn't answer immediately, she glanced back over at him and tilted her head in a questioning way.

"no, i wouldn't tell anyone, let alone you."

She didn't react to his harsh tone and simply nodded in an understanding way. "That's fine, we don't need to go into details. I can see you didn't get the results you wanted though. How many times have you tried to do this?" Her tone of voice was soft and she seemed to be choosing her words carefully so as to not upset him.

Baggs sighed and shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "nine times now," he muttered under his breath.

She inhaled sharply and he could feel that she was studying him. "I don't think I would've tried again after failing three times. It's impressive how persistent you are, at least in my opinion anyways," she remarked.

She asked a few more casual questions about various topics and he responded in kind. However, the longer the conversation went on, the more uneasy he began to feel. It was like she was trying to get him to feel more comfortable around her. The whole situation felt familiar and he knew why.

It was something he'd often done in the past.

If she was planning to do something, getting him to feel more at ease was the perfect first step.

He hated it.

Before she could ask another question, he interjected with one of his own. "i might be wrong here, but you have experience as a therapist, don't you?" He'd kept his tone even and leaned forward while speaking to express interest in what her answer would be.

She seemed surprised but soon smiled warmly at him. "Yes, I-"

No sooner had she responded did Baggs do what he should've done from the beginning. His magenta right eyelight expanded until it filled his entire socket and the pink swirled with blue to create a hypnotizing array that couldn't be ignored.

She fell easily under his control, just like everyone else before her, but in the split second it took to do so, she seemed to realize what he was doing. She had a look of shock but there was also a strange glint in her teal eyes. She lunged for him and while he tried to move away, her hand closed around his left forearm in a vice grip.

His mind was suddenly flooded with an overwhelming sense of compassion and empathy. However, the feelings weren't his own and for a moment, he was paralyzed from the shock.

He was stronger though.

A simple thought was all it took for the feelings to fade.

Baggs leaned his skull back against the chair and let out a heavy sigh. He'd never had anyone react like that before. Violence sure, but never using...Intent. It didn't make any sense...

He looked down at her, half sprawled on the ground where she'd collapsed and half sitting up almost leaning on top of him, all the while she was still clutching onto his arm. She was stronger than he'd first assumed and he was lucky she hadn't had a chance to go for the kill. But...that wasn't what she'd even tried to do in the first place...

why didn't you follow through and attack me? he asked, using his own thoughts to communicate.

Her expression remained passive and her body didn't move at all, meaning she was still completely under his control. He wanted an answer though and used his magic to gently prob into her mind.

"...I only wanted to help you," was her silent response.

how does any of that help? he pressed further.

"I could feel how much you were hurting. I want to help you with shouldering it, if you'll let me..."

how is trying to influence my mind and emotional state supposed to help?

"I wasn't trying to control you... You didn't believe that I truly wanted to help earlier...so I had to show you."

Baggs narrowed his eye sockets suspiciously. He knew she was telling the truth as no one could lie to him when under his direct control. However, he was a bit intrigued as to what her goal had been.

what else would you do to help me? he asked.

"..." Her thoughts were silent, although he could sense that she was struggling to come up with an answer. "...Anything you allow me to. Although earlier I was thinking of trying to comfort you if you don't mind that," she finally answered.

He decided to give her a chance and relaxed the hold his magic had on her mind. He didn't release her just yet though.

She was still for a moment before she let go of his forearm and sat up properly on the floor. Her eyes never left his and she remained docile, not making any sudden movements.

"May I hug you?" she asked in a soft whisper.

"you may."

She dragged herself to her feet and shuffled towards him. Her movements were slow and unsteady, likely from the effects of the hypnosis, but she managed to stiffly wrap him in a hug.

Baggs let her hold onto him for a couple of minutes before gently pushing her arms away. It felt rather odd allowing a stranger to touch him like that but it wasn't entirely unpleasant either.

Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed with concern and she tilted her head. "I can sense that you're still tense. Would you like it if I tried something different?"

He gave her a curious look. "what else can you do?"

"Well, I know how to use magic to absorb negative feelings."

"i know most humans are incapable of using magic, so could you explain your magic and who taught you how to use it?" he asked.

She nodded and sat down on the ground again, although she crossed her legs this time so she could be more comfortable. "I've always been good at empathizing with people but I can do two things with my magic. I can transfer my own positive emotions to someone else by touching them or I can replace their negative emotions with my own positive ones, absorbing them into my own soul."

She paused for a moment and, sensing that she wasn't willing to reveal who had taught her, Baggs focused his magic again to probe her into telling him.

"His name is Nightmare and...he was also the one who brought me here..." she whispered.

Baggs felt a wave of annoyance flicker over him at the mention of the god of negativity. They'd only met in passing before and it hadn't been a pleasant one.

"Are you okay? I can try comforting you again..." She asked quietly, having apparently sensed his change in demeanor.

He shook his skull and sighed. "no. tell me why he sent you."

Her passive expression faltered and her eyebrows knit together with concern. Still, she was powerless to refuse a direct command in this state.

"Nightmare can sense your negative emotions and he's become very interested in your work," she muttered. "However, I'm not here to convince you to make any deals... I just want to help you."

He knew she was telling the truth and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that Nightmare was using this situation in an attempt to establish good relations. It didn't sit well with him at all.

Baggs fully released his hold on her soul and mind, his right eyelight returning to its usual size and magenta colour as he did so. He could take back the control at anytime and she wouldn't even be able to notice if he did, but he didn't tell her that.

She inhaled sharply and her eyes flicked around the room before settling on him again. As she did so, her body jerked backwards as if to instinctively get away from him but she stopped herself. It was incredibly apparent to any outside observers that she was struggling to remain calm and not freak out, which was commendable.

Baggs stood up and offered her one of his hands to help her stand up as well. "i should apologize for being such a poor host. would you like something to drink?" he inquired.

She grimaced and shook her head but still accepted his help. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I don't trust you after...that." She looked away from him and dusted her clothing off.

"i understand your concern, but i have no intentions of harming you." He smiled and tried to change the subject with a different question. "may i ask how you came into nightmare's service? you don't seem like the type someone like him would select for his...work."

She smiled while recalling the memory before answering. "You're right, I actually met and befriended his henchmen first. He saw fit to rescue me when my own world collapsed."

He raised his bonebrows in surprise. "I'm amazed you're still in one piece," he remarked dryly.

She chuckled and waved him off. "Well, I have a few more scars now compared to before, but those are mostly from learning self-defense. I'm not deployed for the usual missions so I haven't had to kill anyone yet."

"what missions are you usually deployed on then?"

"I am tasked with the missions that require more tact than what Nightmare himself is able to perform."

It seemed he'd been right from the beginning.

Neither of them said anything for several long seconds. Finally, she put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle smile.

"Is there anything else I can do to help you? I don't know about you but I'd like to at least end this meeting on a pleasant note," Minty commented.

Baggs nodded slightly. "i suppose i can afford to take a break for a little while..." he hummed.

[targcrazies]

Spring Wine Pt. 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC Premise: Rhaenyra Targaryen, referred to as Rhae by her family, is the heir of her mother, the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. In this Alternate Universe, Rhaenyra has her children with Daemon instead of Harwin and ascends the throne without an armed contest. However, tensions brew elsewhere, as Rhaenyra intends to marry her heir to her second child and oldest son, Jacaerys Velaryon.

WARNINGS: none, for this part, at least.

Part 1

The Queen Rhaenyra had begun to feel the absence of her father the moment she sat on the Iron Throne. The throne bore no comfort that commoners assumed royalties to have. If you shifted too much on the throne, it dug into whatever fabric, even the sturdiest of leather. If you sat too high, you could cut your buttocks and thighs. The seat was meant to keep you humble, grounded. Rhaenyra had soon realised it, even before her father’s demise. What made little sense to her was how different she felt as a woman. Much of her womanhood had worn her own crown, akin to hers, and they all submitted to it.

A fortnight after the ravens bearing the announcement of the Princess of Dragonstone’s betrothal to the Queen’s oldest son were sent out, the Queen received ravens of her own. Several. Two from High Lords, seven from Petty; the Queen initially paid little heed to the letters being brought in and unsealed. She resorted to reviewing ledgers and approving budgetary changes as her husband, the King Consort and the Hand, carefully reviewed the contents of the said letters. The Queen noticed a shift in her husband’s temperament, looking to her right to find his face hardened. “What is the matter, Daemon?”

Her Hand, her husband, and the father of their children looked at her for a moment before she nodded. “Everyone, vacate, now!” 

The Lord of the Tides looked confused before getting to his feet, soon followed by the Master of Coin and the rest. Daemon looked pointedly at Steffon Darklyn, his wife’s sworn shield, who in turn looked toward his Queen. She nodded at him quietly, watching as the man left without a noise and closed the door gently.

“What is the matter, Daemon?”

“They’re challenging our daughter’s claim to the throne.” He splayed the letters across the table for the Queen to look at. Instead of skimming through the contents of the letters, she began to look for the names signed underneath some lords’ contention. Fossoway, Graves, Willum, Rhysling, Sloane, Varner, Westbrook, Wayne, and Hightower. The Queen felt the blood rise to her neck, heated and charged, as she slammed her fists on the table and rose to her feet. Daemon watched as his wife’s jaw clenched.

“How dare they?” She muttered quietly under her breath, “How dare they challenge my daughter’s claim and I?”

“It is Otto’s doing.” Daemon responds, “Otto must have made that gnat of his nephew reach out to the other lords to make the plea.”

“They’re looking to weaken our claim, my authority.” The Queen spoke, as if in a haze, “They cannot expect to be pardoned of an offense so grave.”

“Fucking Andals…” Daemon spat, “Rhae is being wed to Jace, what else do they want?”

“What they’ve always wanted,” she whispered, “A man on the throne. But they ought to know that such days have come to an end. No merit but the order of birth shall dictate who sits on the Iron Throne from now till eternity.”

Daemon walked to his Queen as she seethed in rage, gripping onto the large table before her, “Might I make a suggestion, your Grace?” 

She looked at her husband, “Drop the formalities, Daemon. For once.”

His shoulders fell as his face lost tact, “We send out ravens to the whole realm, decreeing that any such talk will be considered as high treason. Rhaenyra the Younger shall be the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, second of her name, upon the Queen Rhaenyra’s passing.”

She tutted, “Don’t speak so ominously. Ravens will delay another plea, not stop them. We need to do something else.” The Queen walked to the great window behind her. The sun fell on her porcelain skin, ruddying her cheeks as the golden in her silver hair gleamed.

Daemon watched his Queen in awe. He often did. He knew his niece-wife would make a capable ruler, but once had he imagined her to be so dynamic. “What do you suggest, Rhaenyra?” He finally spoke. 

She closed her eyes and inhaled in the soothingly swift breeze that passed, “Rhae must go to them.”

—

Otto Hightower was summoned to his nephew’s council rather early in the morning. Upon being dismissed as the Hand at the Red Keep, Otto soon found employment as his nephew’s Castellan. While the work was less demanding and Otto was left with little to do with himself, he took little slight in it. What he took the slight in was much, much different.

He liked to believe that his grandson, Prince Aemond Targaryen, had ambitions that he failed to ascertain. For why else would the boy choose to yield his obedience to his half-sister and not his own brother of flesh and blood?

He remembered vividly when Syrax’s shriek was heard throughout King’s Landing. Otto and Alicent had already thrown those aware of the King’s demise in the black cells, in hopes of keeping the news shielded. They had begun arrangements for the coronation, Aegon was found deep in the bosom of the woman he had come to adore on the streets of Silk, blithely unaware of his father’s last breath. “Where’s Aemond?” Alicent had asked and Helaena had shrugged quietly. No one had thought the boy would go as far as to fly to Dragonstone and escort his half-sister and her family to the Red Keep. 

Otto would never forget the sight of nine whole dragons flying together. The sun had shied away and night had befallen the capital. Despite Vhagar, Vermithor, Caraxes, and Meleys being bigger than Syrax, Rhaenyra was seen flying first onto the Red Keep. Closely behind her rose Rhaenyra the Younger on Vermithor and Daemon Targaryen on Caraxes. Rhaenyra’s once good mother and cousin Rhaenys flew with her grandsons and all of Rhaenyra’s sons, young Viserys sat with her on Meleys. Behind them all, flew Vhagar. Otto could still picture the blue stone glistening in the sky as his grandson smugly wore his betrayal on his face. The betrayal belonged there, in his small grin, his single eye in obeisance to the daughter and her children Otto had worked so hard to depose. All those years for nothing. Whenever Rhaenyra the Younger quirked up the side of her lips to smile, she looked like the Rogue Prince. It made little sense, for the Prince was only a great uncle and could not have passed his looks so far ahead unless his seed was her progenitor. Otto had thought, “You know who else looks like Daemon? Aemond. Aemond the Betrayer.”

He was further incensed when his oldest grandson looked furtively relieved at his half-sister’s appearance. He could not bother to furrow his brows to honour the frustration that arose from the heart of his mother, who had conspired and plotted to place him upon the throne with all her might. He simply seemed… bored, as if the failed efforts of his mother and his grandsire meant less than the bosoms he had his silver crown nestled upon just earlier. Otto intended to take the goblet he drank from, incessantly, and smash in upon his sharp Targaryen nose. How he’d have relished at the sight of the useless, precarious boy bleeding, frowning for once, agonised at the assault.

Otto chose to stand still and watch as the preparations of the coronation were taken over by his traitorous younger grandson, who pushed Cole to oblige. Daemon took over the preparations of the funeral that were to precede the Coronation, the Dowager Queen was only allowed the privilege to wrap her late husband’s carcass of a corpse in fashion. 

Soon after the events, the Hightowers were sent back packing. Young Daeron was already in service to Alicent’s cousin, and the Queen Rhaenyra remarked, “How he’d love to have his mother and grandfather!” Aegon was given the castle left vacant upon some Lord’s death that had left it uninherited, with lands and livestocks and servants. Helaena had happily taken it upon herself to vacant her and her children’s chambers, crooning at the prospect of finally foregoing the grandeur she deemed fickle and ostentatious. Aegon seemed nonchalant, but Otto knew that deep inside, the boy was glad to be rid of the burden his mother had imposed upon his shoulders that wanted nothing but whores’ heads as they filled his belly with booze and his head with superficial praise. Who knows how much of his coffers were depleted at the expense of his hedonist pursuits.

When Otto opened the door to the council room, he found only his nephew and Maester Gladwynn. “Lord Hightower,” he jerked his head, ever-so-slightly, down, “You called for me?”

“Uncle, please have a seat.” Ormund’s smile was reminiscent of his grandfather’s, his eyes twinkled akin to his mother’s. “We have done as you had requested. The ravens have been sent. Lord Tarly and Lord Beesbury have, most graciously, denied the proposition.”

Otto’s left eye twitched, “Were no bargains made?”

“They were offered men and a lax on taxes that they humbly refused. I made no further insistences.” Ormund sipped on, what Otto assumed, was honeyed wine. “I spared little effort, nuncle, but I did not resort to attrition or aggression for I see little utility in such plea. The Queen ascended the throne on the merit of the order of her birth, it’d make little sense for her to not continue this as tradition for her own children. She’d be deemed unfair and weak.”

“Her case, as the parchments state, could be considered an exception. She was the only child that the first Queen Aemma Arryn bore the King.”

“But not the only trueborn child born of his seed, nuncle.” Ormund chuckled, “I only did as you pleaded because I know the Queen would refrain from waging wars. Her stepmother and her half-brothers are of my blood, and the Lords who did consent only did so of mine own volition, she knows. And the Queen must know, if she has the slightest of wit, why I must have done so.”

Otto watched his nephew savour the wine in his mouth and swallow leisurely before the man spoke again, “The Queen is the first of her name and sex on the Iron Throne, she will not want to make enemies. The highest threat she will decree is that our tongues will get pulled out with hot pincers and fed to her dragon if we even make a peep as such. And, we will all quiet down as per her grace's orders. If the Gods be good, her daughter will one day rule Westeros, and we can only pray that Rhaenyra Targaryen, the second of her name, is as just as the Father and as merciful as the Mother.”

Otto studied his nephew’s face. Recently widowed, he had taken Samantha Tarly for his wife, and yet he had failed to convince the Lady’s father to join hands. Otto knew rather well at that point that his insistence meant nothing at all. It was almost as if Lord Tarly had refused another serving of a pie or another filling of mead. The old man knew then that his nephew had done little to stir any support. He knew that his effort to anger the Queen into hostility had failed terribly. The Queen would not be viewed as cruel, at most rash, perhaps. But who would not be at an endeavour so treasonous?

While Otto could not help but resent his nephew’s appeasement, he also could not overlook the way he had complied to his Castellan’s request while keeping his seat safe. Ormund had taken after his father, and he had taken well. 

—

Rhae had become well-acquainted with her mother’s lack of tact at that point, but it still stung to see her ever-loving and gracious mother turn so stoic, devoid of love and affection. 

“Do you know what you must do, girl?”

“Must I fly to Lord Hightower and the others, your Grace?”

“Never answer a question with another, Rhae, seems feeble.” The Queen looked pointedly at her daughter, “Tell me what you believe you must do.”

Rhae breathed her chest full of air, “I must fly to Lord Hightower and the others, your Grace.” She did not know how to meet her mother’s eyes anymore.

“The Dragon does not concern itself with the opinions of the sheep.” Daemon snorted, “Child, you must visit only Ormund Hightower out of courtesy. The rest can suck on their balls.”

Rhae noticed her mother suppress a grin, her eyes resting upon the King Consort, half in reprimand and half in amusement. The moment she turned to look at her heir, the warmth of her eyes dried into stones, “I agree, you must only fly to Lord Hightower and speak to him directly. The ravens will surely fly to them, but you must get there first. I shall excuse the both of you.” The Queen looked to her left, where her oldest son sat in silence, “Get saddled, both of you!”

Rhae’s head shot from her mother, to her father, then to her brother. “But Mother-”

“Your Grace, may I speak before?” Jace spoke, his eyes upon his sister. The Queen settled back into her chair, nodding. “They ask for me to be made heir. Shall it not be futile for the Princess Rhaenyra to arrive with me? She’d be Queen one day, with or without me. I believe it would serve our case more for the Princess of Dragonstone to fly on her mount, Vermithor, on her own.”

The Queen looked at both her children, in deep ponderance she remained as the clocks may have turned thrice. Finally, she huffed out, “Fine, son, you make sense. What do you think, Rhae?”

“I was about to propose the same as my betrothed, Mother. I should be the one making the journey.”

“We cannot let you go unattended, however. I mean no disregard to your capabilities, but the heir of Seven Kingdoms must have an escort. I’d have you wait out until some of our knights could ride there on horseback, but that would take more time than I can allow. The rest of the boys are too young to assume such a duty.”

Rhae sat up straight, “That only leaves the King Consort and Prince Aemond, Mother.”

The Queen hummed, “The King Consort is busy, and Aemond is Lord Hightower’s own cousin.” She nodded in consideration, her mouth shifting in ease, “The matter is settled then. Jace, could you fetch Aemond?”

Jace regretted every word he had spoken that day, “Yes, your Grace.” He muttered quietly under his breath and left hurriedly. The Queen seemed flummoxed, “Whatever got into the boy…”

—

“Remember the night I claimed Vhagar?” Aemond spoke as he mounted his dragon and Rhae hers. “It was a fortnight after you had claimed Vermithor. I was positively anguished to have my only dragonless friend snatched from me.”

“Now you ride the largest beast, the only one reminiscent of Aegon’s, Rhaenys’s, and Visenya’s conquest.” She settled on her dragon, gently rubbing the scales of her old man. 

“I’d have any dragon now, happily, as long as I get to take upon the sky with you.”

Rhae chuckled, “Might I say, you have made me begin to reconsider my choices. My brother does not speak nearly as much.”

“You don’t even look at the boy!” Aemond laughed as he fastened his saddle chains, “To whom shall he speak? The atmosphere?”

Rhae relished at the sound of his laughter, rarely witnessed by anybody else. Perhaps only by Jacaerys, who had recently developed a spiteful, voyeuristic delight in watching the two converse. He may not know the sound as much, but he knew the look of it. And he imagined that that is how he may have looked had she loved him.

[beautifulloverwitch]

By Fire, Sea and Blood

The untold tale of an approaching collapse

Chapter three: Look at her now.

previous ///// next

Summary: An attempt to push the children together, unite them as the one, seemed to only gnaw at the growing rift between them all.

__________________

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Daenerys Velaryon (strong! oc)

wc: 7k

warnings: assault

Taglist: Open

Masterlist

The king found himself struggling to enjoy the magnificent model he would commonly take delight in assembling. An intricate model of what the histories attempted to put into words of the indescribable Valyrian capital. Whenever he was away from the prolonged and sometimes uneventful council sessions, he would allow his eyes to skim over each intricate detail of the stone display. Not shying away from expressing his disapproval regarding any errors that so slightly contradicted what he had envisioned. Today a great concern rests upon his mind, the ever-growing tension between his family haunting his every step.

“Your grace? Are today’s changes to your liking? If not, I shall call for the stonemasons to return” his squire asked, confused by his king’s lack of interest today.

His silence even startled his wife who sat by the table the two so commonly conversed on, she glanced over her shoulder to her pondering husband.

The king arose from his dwelling sea of thoughts and looked up at the awaiting squire “No need, Eddard,” he spoke, he gestured to him “let us continue another day.”

Alicent’s narrowed gaze followed the squire as he left before she worriedly looked at the troubled Viserys “Is everything alright Viserys?”

He looked to her and sighed, groaning as he stood up and made his way to join her at the table “I’ve found myself consumed with worry these passing moons,” he explained as he attempted to word his concerns.

“What kind?” Alicent sounded eager to know, she had hoped he’d begun to realise her own concerns.

“The boys,” he addressed, bewilderment written across his features, his thoughts distracted him enough that he had not noticed Alicent’s hopeful expression “All that I have tried to do, nothing has quelled the animosity between them!”

Alicent sighed in dismay “Your kind intentions should not be wasted my King,” she explained, taking a sip from her cup “you’ve done all you could.”

He shook his head in disagreement “not enough,” he muttered to himself before looking to her again, curious to ask, “How has time treated Helaena and Daenerys’s friendship,” He was worried the animosity had corrupted even their pure bond.

She hummed before answering “They’re doing well, they care not for the boy’s hostility of one another,” she frowned in confusion as she stated aloud “even Aemond seems to have grown fond of princess Daenerys,” the words tasted bitter, for She was quite contented by the rift between her sons and Rhaenyra’s boys. Daenerys seemed to be a strongly rooted obstacle that proved a great challenge in maintaining that rift.

He pondered for a moment, speaking his thoughts aloud “Aemond, Helaena, and Dany have always been fond of one another, why is it so difficult for them to maintain sentiments for the lot of them?” the longer he spoke of their hostility, his voice would waver with anger “I had hoped Jace, and Daeron would grow to have the fondness those three seem to share.”

Alicent shook her head, hands resting upon her lap as she patronisingly spoke to him “My king, two boys being milk brothers does not garner amity.”

The king huffed, recalling what became of their third son “you speak as though it was not you who had sent Daeron away so soon,” he spat, still irked by the decision to have the boy sent away from his home at the young age of five. A sigh escaped him as he realised the venom of his words made his wife sink into her seat “all I wish is for this family to be united, for the boys to not stand against one another but together,” his fist clenching as his tender voice spoke of the dream he so longed for “there will be a time when none of us will be there to protect them,” his fingers running over his gloved hand, concealing the decaying finger beneath it “I only wish for them to be allied together when such a time comes.”

Alicents brow knitted together as she pictured such a future, a future where she would not be there to protect her children. Imagining who would take her place, she had considered, for a mere moment Viserys’s dream of a future they were absent from, but the vines of a delusion born of deception tightened their grasp on her again. A world absent of Viserys would be a world full of Rhaenyra, with a crown decorating her head. A crown with four hands gripping it tightly.

Falling back to her ways she voiced “Those boys are barbaric unlike their sister,” earning a disapproving stare from her husband “you can’t expect them to change.”

“Our boys are no different,” at their mention, Alicent seemingly did not appreciate Viserys placing them on equal grounds as she lowered her hardened gaze to the ground “and there is still time for them all to learn.”

His words caused Alicent to look back up, wary as she noticed his fingers fiddle with his bandaged little finger, something he would always do whenever he was considering an important decision “I’ve made the decision, that it is best for all the boys to do their princely duties together,” at those words Alicents demeanour changed, her head seemed to retreat backwards, perturbed by the proposal, words seemed to escape her as her eyes darted around while Viserys continued “every feast one of them is invited to, all of them go, whenever one of them is meant to be training at arms, they will all be training it arms, if one of them is studying, all of them will be studying,” he explained, he punctuated each sentence with a slap to the table. A proud smile on his lips as he looked at his wife, his smile soon faded as he noticed the look of disbelief on her face.

“Viserys, you can’t,” she simply stated, attempting to gather words “the boys cannot bare walking past one another!” her voice trembling with worry at what prospect such a decision could create.

“I understand your worry my queen,” he spoke calmly, raising his hand up attempting to dampen her concern “but that is the very reason they must go forth with it.”

Her shoulders slumped in defeat “you’ve already made the decision,” her eyes widen, incredulous when he nodded “without my council, nor Rhaenyra’s, the mothers of the children you’ve decided to make such a ruling on?”

He refused to meet her gaze as he spoke “had I asked for either of your council, I would have realised the true source of this enmity between the children.”

She fell back into her seat, chest falling and rising as she attempted to subdue the growing anger bubbling within her. Her head shaking in pointless refusal before glancing back up at him “I would not wish to question your decisions your grace,” she voiced with forceful respect and acceptance for the decision “but I ask you to allow me the right to choose whom shall help prepare the princes for their duties,” this earned her a wary look from her husband before she continued “I wish for them all to be taught by the best mentors the seven can offer, might I remind you it was I who chose the septa for Helaena and Daenerys.”

The king reluctantly agreed, and she stood up, lips tense as she muttered “Your grace,” before leaving his chambers. He sighed, jaw clenching as one of the figurines shattered to the ground after Alicent slammed the door to his chambers rudely shut.

The three boys awkwardly stood beside one another as they awaited their mentor to offer them their weapons, the fourth boy absent for he was deemed far too young to be trained in the art of the sword. Their mentor was a man with coal black and lush hair, his attire the coveted white of a member of the Kings guard. He approached the boys with three wooden swords in hand, handing it over to Aegon and Aemond while shoving one towards Jace. The boy clutched the blunt blade in his arms, a fearful look on his face as he watched the man walk away.

“I was appointed by the queen to instruct you all to become formidable swordsmen,” he announced, hands resting on the hilt of his wooden blade, his piercing eyes scanning over the three princes “you all may be in your earnest ages but your training will still be harsh, and I am intolerant of any unnecessary weakness displayed by any of you,” he glanced to Jace, eyes sending a message of plain detest “this training is unavoidable, by command of the king,” he felt satisfied when he saw Jace cowering under his gaze “swords up!”

The boys raised their swords, all of them struggled to keep their arms extended as the weight of the swords caused their muscles to ache. The man circled them all, using his wooden sword to adjust their arms “let it be an extension of your arm,” he instructed, swatting away the other hand of Aemond “one hand prince Aemond.” Aemond nodded before raising his sword again, sword extended and arm as steady as possible.

Aegon had a proud smile on his face as he managed to learn quite quickly, the advantage he had did not go unnoticed by the two younger boys, but neither dared voice their opinion on it. Jace was soon to follow in skill, even though he could only observe for Ser Criston neglected to focus on the boy. Aemond seemed to struggle the most out of the three, baring most, if not all of Cristons attention. He swung at the training dummy, grunting as he twisted his wrists in an incorrect manner.

Aegon would notice his brothers struggle, nudging Jace and gesturing for him to watch the boy as he grappled with the wooden sword. The two laughed at his struggle and Aegon shouted to his brother “come on brother! A dragonless Targaryen must learn to fend for himself from the ground,” he yelled, earning a surprised laugh from Jace.

Aemonds face flushed in anger, vexed by his brothers jabs and his nephew’s laughter. He channelled his anger through his swings. Criston gave a quick glance of caution to the boys before advising the irked Aemond “lighter swings my Prince.”

An amused Jace spoke to his uncle “We shouldn’t even be here, what good use is swordsmanship on dragon back?” his words and their laughter did not miss the ears of Aemond.

He halted his movements, sword clenched at his side as he sneered at the muddy ground. Had he looked up at their taunting faces, he would have mistaken them for the wooden dummy before him.

“Did I tell the either of you to stop?” Criston asked prompting them to choke on their teasing laughter. Once they turned away, he gave a reassuring nod to the vexed prince "go on."

Aemond huffed out a shuddered breath, displeased by his reliance on someone else to come to his own defence.

Aegon and Jace from then on did not shy away from making little comments about the slow learning and dragonless boy. Seemingly, the Kings decision served well to bring the boys together, two of them at least.

“That will be all for today,” Criston announced as his eyes jumped about the three boys, not knowing whether to feel disappointed or pleased by their amateur progression. His eyes lingered on Jace, whom this time, had not been bothered by his stare, he was too busy joking with Aegon to notice.

The boys placed their weapons back upon the rack, the dragon keepers waiting to escort them to the dragon pit. Aegon shoved his weapon to his brother “If you could brother,” He spoke, not paying him any mind as he walked away.

Aemond huffed in annoyance at his brothers disregard for him, noting how Jace was quick to follow Aegon. He returned the weapon to its place on the rack and turned to join them. Fell away his annoyance as he saw his brother, his blood, walk away with the dark-haired bastard. Seeing his brother walk away with the boy left Aemond in dejected humiliation. His hands balled up at his sides, feeling the stares of the those that took pity on him.

Criston rested his hand on the tense shoulder of the boy, an attempt of comfort but the boy was quick to shrug away his pity and march off the training grounds. Cristons cold stare did not waver as it followed the two tormenting boys.

As the months passed so continued their endless torment of the boy. Nothing seemed to dampen their teasing remarks to Aemond, whose anger seemed to rise and boil beneath his skin. He slowly began to excel in every teaching they received together, he was swift with his sword and calculating in his movements, he would be prepared for every teaching with their appointed Maester, and courteous to every Lord and Lady he encountered with the other two. To his dismay, it never seemed enough for his brother to stop.

Months after the king enforced the rule upon the boys, Luke joined their sessions and to Aemonds misfortune, he was quick to side with the two wolves that continued to gnaw at him.

He attempted to inform his brother of his detest at how he has been treated these few months. He was given a false assurance that his feelings had been acknowledged, only to have offered Aegon upon a silver platter, another wound to prod at with his sharp words.

He blankly stared ahead of himself, the tome in his lap long forgotten. Fingers digging into the leather binding and oxidised paper. The look in his eyes void of the beaming light of the sun that shone upon the godswood. Lips squeezed in contempt and face still as he marinated in his own anger.

Daenerys was too lost in her own rambling to notice his usual silence lasting far too long. She glanced down at him from the tree crook she settled upon, worry whelmed her as she saw the distant look on his face. Hopping down she called out “Aemond,” a soft grunt escaped her as she landed on her knees against the dry ground, probably scraped them beneath her dress “Aaaaeeemmmooondddd” she drawled out, her voice held a wavering puckishness that fell away when he remained unresponsive. She knelt beside him, an arm around her knees as she tilted her head to get a better look at his face, her hand reached out and rested upon his shoulder and she called out for him again, the note of tenderness seemed to reach him as he glanced up at her “Aemond?”

His jaw rolled as he ducked his head, trying to ease away his anger.

“What has caught your tongue?” she jovially asked, resting beside him “you’ve barely flicked past a single page,” she pointed to the untouched bookmark on the tome. She chuckled as she asked, “I do hope your sessions with the Maester have not granted you someone more interesting than I to read with you,” she frowned when she noticed the sneer that danced across his upper lip. Her lips downturned and she rested her back against the bark of the tree, fingers fiddling with the compass that hung at her hip. The two sat together in a long silence, the girl sighed, the uncomfortable silence felt awkward to her, but she knew he needed a moment to gather himself.

words came together as his thoughts cleared, he asked “your brothers…” her brows knitted at the mention of her young brother “have they ever teased you?”

She was taken aback by the question, an incredulous look on her face as she asked, “what could they possibly tease me for?”

He abruptly interrupted “for not having a dragon, have they ever shamed you for not having a dragon?” He was taken aback by how her face suddenly dropped at the mention of it, dread overcame him as he accused her “They’ve spoken about it to you!” he bolted up from where had sat and looked down at her, the sudden action caused her to tense in fear “Luke and Jace have been ridiculing me to you, and you’ve allowed it?! All these months?” he shouted; voice wavering as he pictured her laughing along with her brothers at his troubles.

Daenerys frowned in confusion, baffled by the conclusion he had so swiftly arrived at. She shot up from the ground and remarked “what? No! I would never!” she exclaimed, but it seemed as though it was not enough, grimacing in shock as she saw him shake his head and begin to walk away from her. She chased after him and stood in his path, growing outraged by the accusation. He turned away from her, rudely giving her his shoulder to speak to “Luke only spoke ill of you once and I gave him AND Jace an earful to make them cease their taunting!” she explained. When she had first heard of her brothers’ jests about Aemond, she was terribly hurt by their barbed words. She was not innocent of poking fun at him either, but she knew that some open wounds were best not to be pried at, Especially with Aemonds fiery temper.

The first she was made aware of her brothers’ insults, she wondered if they had thought the same of her, for she was in the same predicament as the boy they constantly poked fun at.

Her eyes glazed over with the sorrowful sheen of tears “I, out of everyone understand the plight you and I face,” lips twisting as the young girl did her best to maintain her composure “to laugh at a struggle that I understand would make me crueller than Jace, or Luke, or your brother!”

His lips pursed as he pondered her words, hands gripping at his arms as they grew tighter around his chest. His brows knitted as he stared at the cobble floor, giving it instead of her an icy glare.

A shuddered sigh escaped Daenerys “why would you think I’d ever laugh at you for such a thing?” she questioned, fingers brushing over the knuckles of her hand.

“You’re their eldest sibling,” he muttered, his foot digging at the floor beneath him. His gaze slowly moved up the brush across the sky and back to her as she patiently stood at his side, awaiting an answer “younger siblings always learn from their elder sibling.”

She scoffed, her hands breaking away from one another “I would hope not,” she made her way back to the abandoned tree slowly followed by a wary Aemond.

“Why is that?” he asked, his voice now softer, losing the burning harshness.

She was subtle to wipe away the hot tears before turning to face him as she sat down “Imagine! To deal with one Aegon is enough, but two or three!” she jovially exclaimed “I’d be praying to the seven to take me sooner.”

Pleasant surprise splashed away the solemn and cold expression on his face before he laughed along with her.

She sighed in relief upon seeing the smile that tore through his often-dour face. He joined her and sat beside her again, seemingly noticing she awaited a response from him “forgive me for placing blame upon you, it’s just not fair,” he said, his shoulders slumping in sorrow “my brother takes joy in their presence, if I am not the hind of the joke, I am a nuisance.”

Her bottom lip jutted outwards as she pondered “Maybe he won’t realise it now, nor will he realise tomorrow, nor the day after that,” she looked over her shoulder, seeing his sorrow taking grasp of him again, she rested her hand over his, her words laced with sincere warmth “But no friendship compares to that of a brother’s.”

He glanced down to their joined hands, before looking up at her with a child’s sheepishness. She patted his hand “He will come around to realise the joy of your presence, just as I have, with time,” her kind voice assured. She sighed for a moment before proposing “as for my brothers, I will keep watch of them, I will… be sure that next I go archery training… I shall be closer to where you and my brothers commence your sword training.”

His face awkwardly contorted to relief at hearing her assurance, no matter how naïve it may have sounded he held it closely to heart in hopes of it someday coming true. To hope for some day, that he may share a trusting endearment with his neglectful brother.

He fiddled with the edges of his book before asking “Have you thought about your mothers’ question?”

Daenerys chuckled and shook her head “Will there ever be a day that passes where you don’t ask me about that?” she harmlessly chided “Have you ever considered to ask me about my archery skills? I have finally managed to shoot the target and not my father’s foot.”

“It’s an important decision Dany,” he defended setting the book aside before turning to face her. He struggled to understand her evasion, the reason for his endless prying was because it was the one topic, she seemed disinterested in ever discussing with him.

Rolling her eyes, her head fell back against the tree. As much as she had taken joy in his presence, she favoured Helaena’s more, a moment with her was always free from talk of politics. The pestered girl was quick in her remark “A decision which I am a decade away from making!”

The aspect of the throne’s importance was still foreign to her, she knew whom ever sat it ruled the seven kingdoms and was king or queen. She knew its history, she knew of how coveted it was by both noble and low born, but her knowledge of it ended at that.

“If a decade had already passed,” he slowly suggested, his hand quickly reaching for her arm as she began to rise from her place beside him “what would you say?” he curiously questioned, expression silently pleading for her to consider his question.

The bothered Daenerys pouted, as she glared at the unmoved boy. Sighing she stared at the ground, it should have been an easy answer, who would not want to rule the seven kingdoms?

The light squeeze she felt on her arm pulled her away from her short-lived pondering. Her hand reached up to pull at the lobe of her ear “yes?” she answered, wincing as she tugged her ear too hard “A seat so coveted, a responsibility so large, so… powerful, I see no reason to refuse it,” she explained, before looking to him. Shoulders rigid when she was met with what she perceived as doubtfulness from Aemonds eyes. Nails beginning to dig deeper into the delicate flesh of her ear.

Reaching up he pulled her hand away from her ear, clutching it in his hand. She glanced down, lips twisting the side, had the decision been asked of her months earlier, she would have said yes, but now all she could think of was the other option. She looked at him through the corner of her eye, relieved to see the familiar ungraceful grin on Aemonds lips “If it is of any consolation, I think you should say yes,” He was met with a jovial scoff from Daenerys, who tugged her hand away from his and lightly shoved him away. He chuckled at her childish action and justified “Only because I think you’d make for a great queen.”

It was true, for although Aemond had detested the fact that the throne was to be inherited by his half-sister once his father passed. He was more than capable of baring that if it meant Daenerys would success it after her. In his eyes she would make for a memorable queen if the histories were to be kind enough to her. With the right guidance, he believed she may be capable to mend whatever mess her mother would leave for her to manage.

They were aligned once again side by side. Three of them so huddled together that the fourth looked entirely misplaced, as though he had mistakenly stumbled upon the training grounds and was too ashamed to leave. They were also accompanied by Ser Harwin, the commander keeping watch over his trainee archers, but made use of every moment he could sneak a pointed glance over to Rhaenyra’s boys as he watched them neglected by their instructor.

The righteous Ser Criston hands were rested at the hilt of his sword, watching the near piteous swings of his newest pupil, prince Lucerys. He had learned to hide his disgust behind a face tightened by his years of upheld duty untainted by depravity. He tore away his gaze on the boy and towards his favoured pupil, the only who seemed recuperate far quicker than the rest.

“The weapon is an extension of your arm Prince Aemond,” he stated, the young prince turned to look at him attentively “understand that and your swings will be much quicker.”

Aemond sighed, his arm gripped tightly at the wooden sword hanging at his side “my strikes can’t get any weaker Ser Criston.”

Criston walked over to him and turned him towards the dummy again “Strong strikes serve you no good if you don’t know where to use them, and when,” He explained to him, his instruction not reaching the rest of the boys who would have made good use of his instruction “nor will they help you if you are without the speed to avoid the strikes of your opponent.”

His brow scrunched as he listened before nodding and continuing his lighter, yet rapid assaults on the flesh of hay and bone of wood.

“Your opponent will not stick to one place young knights!” Criston yelled as he strode around them all “move around them, evade whatever attacks they intend on making!”

Jace nodded, twirling his blade in his wrist as he prepared himself. The boy latched on to whatever instruction he could gain from the stoic knight, pushing it to its limit until he overhears another instruction not meant for his ears. He and the rest stalked around their opponent and struck every few steps.

Luke would look over to his brother and attempt to mimic his movements, he could mimic his brother all he wished, but he could not mimic his brother’s physical condition which Luke has yet to perfect. His face grew red, and breaths grew rapid as his arm idly hit his opponent. He grimaced as he dropped his hands to his knees, catching his breath.

“Congratulations prince Luke, you’ve been effectively maimed by your opponent,” Criston scolded, restraining the smirk that pulled at his lip upon hearing the laughter of Aemond and Aegon “lift your sword from the ground.”

Luke pouted, huffing as he stood up to face his opponent again, trying to regain motivation to impress the cold Criston, who had not spared the boy a moment unless he had made an understandable mistake for him to reprimand.

To the right of the field Daenerys stood rigid with bow outstretched in hand, clad in a simple blue dress and leather bracers. Behind her was her instructor, wary of each time she let an arrow soar. Daenerys was adamant on learning how to use the ranged weapon, her father was reluctant, and many around her attempted to talk her out of this ambition. Her mother found it odd at first, not many princesses wish to seek to have such a trait in their arsenal. But when honeyed words and charm wore out, her daughter would eventually need another means of protecting herself.

Daenerys found today’s session to be less than fulfilling compared to the rest. While her shots landed somewhere other than the centre of her target -a great improvement compared to her first session- she did not feel the satisfaction of success, for her mind was busied in keeping watch of her brothers and Aemond.

Nobles gathered around to watch the princess, who had gained the vexing title the bungled archer. Curtesy of her dear uncle Aegon.

Aemond would glance over to where she was every now and then, impressed by her improvement, and Light chuckles slipping from him, finding himself amused by how red her face would get whenever another arrow found itself upright on the ground. His sudden spike of happiness did not go unnoticed by Aegon, who glanced between his brother and his dark-haired niece with disgust.

Daenerys snuck a quick glance over her shoulder while she drew back another arrow. She saw Aegon gesture to Aemond while muttering something to Jace and Luke, both laughed but froze when they saw her piercing lilac eyes warn them to seize their laughter. Jace nudged his brother to quiet down before the two moved away from Aegon.

Aegon noticed them retreating further and further away. He followed their gaze and noticed the warning look their sister had given them. His nostril flared as he huffed, irritated by her presence. He glanced around the training grounds and noticed how everyone seemed to have their attention on her, the bastard girl graced with a feature special enough to distract them all from the plain obvious.

 He stalked towards his brother, leaning over his shoulder. A bewildered Aemond tensed, leaning away from his brother who had a menacing grin on his face “You think archery will be enough for her to protect herself? Should we invite our dear niece to join us in our training as well?” he spoke gesturing towards her with his head. Aemond looked at her from the corner of his eye, wary of what words would leave his brother next “Those eyes aren’t capable of protecting her from what mortal perils lie on the ground,” his taunting smile grew wider as he saw his brother turn to him, a silent message of caution emanating from his icy blue eyes “I heard there are people in the world that want to pluck them, right. Out.”

An irked Aemond forcefully stepped forward, away from his looming brother that stumbled back from the force of his movement. Aegon chuckled walking back to his station, merrily twirling his sword.

The action did not go unnoticed by the watchful Daenerys. She could only imagine what the exchange was about to cause such a response from Aemond. Adjusting her grip on her bow she breathed in.

“This is your last shot for the day princess Daenerys,” her annoyingly stoic instructor spoke, arms across his chest as he told “narrow your focus.”

She frowned in worry before shaking away every other possible bother. Stance open and arrow arm loose as she drew back the nock of her arrow against the string of her bow. ‘Just this one shot, just one shot, please!’ she pleaded, eyes focused on the bright red dye at the centre of her target. It was as though every failed attempt faded away as she restated her goal time and time again. She released the nock of her arrow and allowed it to find its path.

Her face softened with hope, the moment she let go, her body relaxed from its rigidity and her bow fell to her side. It was like a ray of sun cutting through a cloudy day when a bright smile tore across her face. The arrow once in her grip, was now protruding from the red dot of her target. She turned to look at her instructor, who had met her with a look of stifled pride.

She was alerted by applause coming from around her, the young princess was bashful upon seeing the noble men and women applauding her success around her. she bowed her head in appreciation before handing her bow to her instructor. Her brothers startled her as they gathered around her.

“You finally did it!” Lucerys yelled, jumping for joy as he pointed towards the target.

Jacaerys squeezed her arm “Father made a mistake not coming today.”

She shrugged before joking “maybe he’s been the cause of my shortcomings,” Her joke garnered laughter from her younger brothers. Glancing away from them she had noticed the approaching nobles and realised she had another important duty to attend to. She was not keen on another teaching from Septa Olera, she was only in a rush to avoid the prodding eyes of the Lords and Ladies “I’ll see the both of you at dinner!” She told her brothers, giving the two light pats to their heads before rushing past them.

As she dodged and weaved between the men and women, yelling quick thank you’s as she ran past. She regrettably had to run past Aemond as well, whom wanted to congratulate her “Dany, yo-“

She turned to face him as she walked back towards the stair “I’ll speak with you later Aemond!” she offered him a quick smile before rushing up the stairs.

His arms fell to his side, saddened by her dismissal. He continued practicing his strikes, his guard returned, Daenerys was no longer present to thwart her brothers taunting of Aemond.

Aegon glared at the faces of the dispersing crowd, who had not even bothered to gather around him after Daenerys departed the training grounds. Their disinterest caused his blood to boil, all she had done was shoot a toothpick through a cotton plate.

“Back to your stations Princes!” Ser Criston called out; he found the crowding of the princess unnecessary. Such a simple discipline archery was, he called the weapon of cowards. Too scared to get close enough to a fight. It was the art of the sword that should have garnered that attention.

The man returned to his attentiveness of Aegon and Aemond. Luke and Jace had eventually stopped their practice and simply watched. Criston had not cared enough to notice. Jacaerys had grown to find it irritating, himself and Lucerys were barely advancing in their training.

Lucerys took matters into his own hands once, he thought the knight had perceived him as too weak and slow. The looming shadow of wanting to be better, pushed him to take Cristons Morningstar, wanting to take swing at that weapon instead. The boy nearly knocked his own head off his shoulders, had the stone walls surrounding the training grounds not caught the weapon. From then on, the shadow of Ser Harwin strong seemed to linger inconspicuously in the training grounds.

Harwin would not shy away from sending disapproving glares towards their neglectful instructor. He whistled to the two boys, gaining the attention of Jacaerys. He gave a quick nod towards Cole before turning his back to them.

Jacaerys turned to look at his instructor, attempting to gather the will to ask “Ser Criston?” he gulped when he was met with the intense stare of the knight “What can we do?” He asked, puffing up his chest, he was a prince why should he be so unnerved by a king’s guard? “My brother and I have been doing for months what prince Aegon and Aemond have been doing in a week.”

Aemond had his back to them, his brow arching up as he smirked to himself. He heard Aegon whining, mocking the two boys. He did not hide the laughter that omitted from him.

Ser Criston hummed “My teachings have proven effective so far, young prince.”

“I do not plan on challenging a tree to a dual Ser Criston,” His bluntness startled him, but he kept his head high.

Cristons smugness fell away, instead it was replaced by the familiar jaded expression “very well, let us test your skill, shall we?” he turned to look at Aegon “Prove to me you can best Aegon and both you and your brother may ascend to my next teaching.”

Aegon was startled, glancing to the young boy. Aegon was at a great advantage, but eventually took the opportunity to place at least one of the Velaryons in their place. He swung his sword around as he approached the frightened Jacaerys “Come Jace! You needn’t worry, this will take me only a few moments.”

As their swords clashed it was clear that Jacaerys attentive ear was of great use to him, their prowess was nearly similar. Had it not been for Aegons height, their skill would have been identical. Jacaerys struck with force, while Aegons actions were erratic, he was stunned by the boy’s strength.

His presumption of Jacaerys weakness cost him, he was so stunned he had not noticed that his sword had been knocked out of his grip. He was awakened from his stupor by the young boys bellowing laughter of victory.

Jacaerys turned to look at his brother who mirrored his joy. He turned to look back at Aegon, hoping for a pat on the back, thinking the older prince to be a good sport about his loss. Instead, he was tackled to the ground, he was quicker to awareness than his opponent, fighting back against the furiously humiliated boy. An event the queen would be quick to latch on once she receives word of it.

Ser Criston was not quick to pry the two off one another. Aegon stumbled back, a quivering sneer on his lips. Glancing around him, attention returned to him at the worse moment, the judging stares of the crowd piercing into him. he could have sworn that the face of his mother appeared at least ten times as he looked around.

Such a childish display from the eldest of the young princes.

He cut through the unmoving crowd, marching swiftly to his chambers. He thought he had grown accustomed to the disapproving glares and painful criticisms of his mother, but to feel it ten-fold was something he had never expected himself to face. Never a moment was he seen at his best, always at his worst.

As he passed through the shadowed edges of the courtyard, he heard the sound of what he perceived was the goading laughter of the cause of his greatest woes. Daenerys Velaryon sat beside his sister, laughing to her hearts content, while he was made to fall to a shadow, she had never been in. whatever thought of rationality had drowned in the boiling water of years of anger and jealousy. His hand, as though with a will of its own, reached for the hilt of the dagger strapped to his hip. Such turmoil this day had been for him, and such a lingering putrid taste it would leave in his mouth, so he had to wash it out somehow.

Helaena had a pitiful smile as she watched Daenerys struggle to complete her embroidery, or even start it for that matter. She was hunched over, embroidery held closely to her face as she worked.

“Your hand is shaking too much, stop clenching the needle too much!” she attempted to reach for the needle only to have her hand gently swatted away.

“Septa Olera will notice that you’ve helped me on my embroidery Helaena,” She explained.

“How?” she questioned curiously.

She scoffed before resting the embroidery on her lap “all she’ll have to search for is perfection and discipline.”

“Let me at least tie off your thread at the start!” she urged.

Daenerys sighed and handed it over to her. She rested her hands on her cheeks as she leaned on her knees, peering over to see Helaenas work. She frowned when she saw her swap out the blue thread she had been using “My thread…”

“It’s frayed Dany, let’s use one of mine! Septa Olera always admires it, she’ll be sure to give you the same admiration!” she spoke credulously.

Daenerys found Helaena’s unwary demeanour terribly reassuring, never hid her intent, and never seemed to hold an ill one. It had taken her weeks to grow accustomed to it and eventually it became the greatest reason for her to view her aunt as a great friend to keep.

Helaena pulled out her favourite red thread, poking it through the needle before beginning her work “Break away a branch of red…” her soft voice spoke, but her words had not slipped the curious ears of Daenerys, she pierced the back of the fabric and looped back to pierce it again. Creating a small loop at the back of it, she pierced the fabric a third time and passed the thread through the loop “charging towards…” she pulled the thread and closed the loop around it “a dances end.”

She presented it to the confounded Daenerys, it was the only downside to her friendship with Helaena. The curious sentences she would mutter every now and then irked Daenerys for she would never be capable of deciphering any of Helaenas often concerning riddles.

Her surroundings petered out as she fell to the constant daze she’d go into after hearing one of Helaenas riddles. A sharp tug at her hair tore a shrill scream of horror from her throat. She tried to pull away, but her attacker kept a tight grasp of the handful of hair he had kept in his grip. Hair so long it reached her lower back, she took so much pride in the head of hair she had been born with.

The tugging had suddenly ended, and she collapsed to the stone ground in front of her, her cheek and palms scraping against it. The blood trickling from the scrape on her cheek and brow, and the burning of her palms seemed to not be of concern once she noticed the long tufts of hair landing around her. The braid that hung from the back of her head was now on the ground in front of her. Her lips began to quiver as she sat on her knees. As it dawned upon her, she turned to look at her attacker, who laughed at her state.

“Aegon!” Helaena cried out in shock.

Aegon clutched his chest as he cackled. Many began to gather around, gasping in horror upon seeing the sight, all of them looming over. The mortified princess stared at the locks of hair in her attackers’ hand with beating dread in her wide eyes, sobs beginning to build within her chest. Heart hammering in her ears as she began to shrink away. Her heavy tears began to pour so much that had she not been focused on understanding why he would do such a thing; she would fear that she would drown herself in her own sorrow.

“A few more cuts Dany, and we’ll get rid of everything else strong about you.”

One of the lords stepped forward, reaching down to the terrified girl, pitying her state “princess Daenerys… let me take you to your mother,” his hands slowly resting on her shoulders.

Like a dear running at the sound of a snapping twig she bolted out of the courtyard, the sound of her cries following her. Her once long dark hair, now a mess of length. She had evaded every one of the guards and nobles she encountered and disappeared into the red keep. Stumbling into the secret dark corridor she had accidentally found one day; the darkness of the corridor repelled her from making it a common place to visit. But her feet seemed to guide her straight into it.

Shutting the door behind her she shook her head, glancing to the left and the right of the ill-lit corridor. She rushed towards the sight of two rays of light, falling beside the worn window, and scurrying to the wall, curling up against it. The exhilaration of the run combined with the trepidation inflicted upon her by Aegon’s Malicious actions, threw the poor girl into a panic. Her face blemished by the anguish of it all, heart beating at a rate the rest of her body found it difficult to catch up with. Her limbs limp around her as she fought against this foreign feeling. The sound of drops hitting the cold cobblestone caught her currently frenzied attention.

Her finger tapping for each second that passed before the next drop of water splashed on the small puddle it had formed.

Eight seconds she had counted. Gathering her courage, she gulped and pushed herself up and against the wall, head leaning against the cold stone as she fought to regain control of her body. Heaving in a deep breath of air, for a moment it felt as though it had all cleared, but her breath hitched at the interrupting sound of the splash. With that she let out a shuddered exhale, finding a calming rhythm. Collecting herself with every eight seconds.

Her legs straight ahead of her, Staring ahead of herself as she tugged at her ear, she found it difficult to reach for her hair, every time she had, another strand of hair would find itself in her hand. it was not a clean cut; she could still feel the painful tension of his tugging on her scalp. It had not helped that the thoughts of why he would do such a thing to her began to beat against the wall of her skull.  With every possible reason that was denied, she eventually had to succumb to the fact that the reason of why, was to her dismay: unknown.

[freakystrashdump]

🔮The Oracle Bakery🔮

Emperor Belos|Phillip Wittebane/OC

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, Belos is a content warning by himself

Read on AO3

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Chapter 15: Daily Potions

Something was amiss.

Belos stirred in his sleep, groaning at the way his back cracked. The sofa in his sitting room, as comfortable as it was, was not made for spending the night on. And he was far too old not to feel the consequences of being cramped in one position on a sofa, caught in some form of half-sleep as he stayed on high alert if his guest needed him in any way.

Magic could only do so much in chasing away the side effects of age.

He sat up, arching his back and feeling (and hearing) it pop back into place, which in return brought a groan to his lips. He rubbed his neck and shoulders, trying to alleviate the tension in his muscles, ice blue eyes squinting as they struggled to adjust to the darkness of the room. He found the longcase clock in the darkness and could just make out the time - twenty minutes to five in the morning.

Something woke him up.

Belos ran a hand through his hair and leaned back, looking and listening. What was it? He thought through the haze of his sleep-ridden brain. His eyes were glazed over as he stared out the window, catching a glimpse of the moon's light from behind the clouds. He exhaled a deep, long sigh as a feeling of fondness washed over him.

The moon brought comfort, even if it wasn’t his moon. It wasn’t the moon he knew. And yet still…

He wondered briefly if Magnus was still waiting outside the doors. He managed to talk Hunter out of pacing a hole in the carpet outside with how he nervously walked in circles, waiting for any news about the Oracle - the teen looked absolutely stricken with guilt and it made his worry all the more intense. 

But the older Fortuna was not that easy to chase off.

~*~*~*~*~*~

  “I can assure you, Fortuna, your niece is receiving the best care in the Boiling Isles.” Belos asserted, patience slowly wearing thin as he felt like he was speaking to a wall at this point. 

He came out to greet Magnus, the Fortuna prodigy and next in line for Coven Head of the Oracle Coven, assure him that Selena was doing alright and was on her way to recovery, and hopefully get him to leave . Belos didn’t like  knowing that someone was waiting in front of his chambers, alert and on guard and probably holding a grudge towards him at the moment, the thought filling him with unease.

Magnus, however, didn’t move from his place as he listened to the Emperor. A purple magic construct serving as a place to sit, he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a scowl ever present on his face. 

And you didn’t have to be an Oracle to feel the grim, oppressing aura emanating from him. It made Belos’ hair stand on end.

The oracle prodigy rolled his shoulders, the scowl never leaving him “I have no doubts she is, Emperor Belos.” he proceeded in an even, cold tone “There is no safer place than the palace - even if it is where she got hurt.” Belos clenched his teeth at that remark “But I’ll leave after I personally have made sure she is safe.”

Damned be the stubbornness of the Fortunas…

“I can’t let you see her, Selena is resting. And it is of critical importance that she is not disturbed.” Belos tried not to let his irritation show “Her recovery depends on it. I’m sure you understand.”

“Then I’ll wait.” Magnus shot back, the bark in his voice letting the Emperor know this conversation was over and that he wasn’t moving on his own free will no matter how many sweet words and reassurance he had to offer him.

Belos clenched his fists, eyes narrowing behind the mask “ Fine . Wait, then.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damned be the stubbornness of the Fortunas indeed. Like a pack of wild cats, never letting themselves be tamed, always hissing and spitting at anyone trying to control them. He spent years herding them in, keeping them in check, earning their trust, and still they barred their teeth. They were too influential, too annoyingly powerful to be left unleashed.

Selena was much tamer than the rest of her kin, but the teeth were still there, still sharp. She still bristled like a feral kitten away from its mother at his hands as he tried to capture her, spitting as he got closer.

A foolish endeavour from her part. She’ll appreciate him caging her in the end.

Lost in thought - that's when he finally heard it. 

The thing that woke him up.

He left the door to his bedchamber ajar, so he could hear if the girl inside needed anything throughout the night. And while he had no real intention of sleeping, he had turned the lights off, not wanting them to seep through the door and disturb her rest. At some point he had lied down for a second, just to rest his body, and the next thing he knew, he was out like a light. And now, through the door, he heard a faint whimper. 

Belos was on his feet in seconds, grabbing at the mask he left on the tea table before lying down hours before, and put it on in a haste, letting out a low hiss when he accidentally put it on too fast and too hard, the action giving his nose a knock with the metal. Despite that, he rushed to his bedchambers.

"Selena?" He called out as soon as he opened the door. She was there, sitting on the bed and hugging her knees. Her head snapped to face him as soon as she heard him intrude, a gasp escaping her lips.

Crying. She was crying.

"I…I'm sorry, I just…" she immediately started apologising, wiping her face to hide any evidence of her tears.

Belos was immediately at her side "Hush, hush now." He whispered, trying to soothe her.

"I- I woke you up, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry, it's okay." Belos whispered "Are you alright?" She lowered her head, not wanting to look at him, but he was having none of it. He bent over slightly, trying to catch her eyes "Hmm?" He coaxed further.

"I just…" Selena let out a little sniffle "It's a lot."

"It is, isn't it?" Belos sighed, leaning back on his arms.

"I do nothing but cause trouble." He heard her mutter into her knees.

"No, you don't."

"Yes I do!" Selena snapped around to face him, hair flying around her face with a life of its own "This whole fia sco would have never happened if I wasn't so… so careless!" She frowned in frustration and continued "And even then, maybe if we never fought, I wouldn't have been so absentminded to the point of carelessness!" Her clenched fist hit the mattress, the bubbling anger more than apparent "And that never would have happened in the first place if I hadn't attempted to bond with your nephew - all that accomplished was you being angry at me and your nephew now hates me, too!" She buried her head once again in her knees.

Belos watched her, unsure of which part of her breakdown to address first. He hesitated, lips opening and closing as he did, before settling on one "Hunter doesn't hate you."

Probably the wrong thing to say, he thought, as Selena's head whipped to him, fury etched on her face “Do not try and spare my feelings.” she hissed through sobs “You were right, my token of kindness was unneeded and a burden. He hates it!” she had to laugh at herself as the annoyance came back full swing, and she furiously blinked back the tears “He…hates it.” she shook her head and looked away as her anger once more subsided into desperation, hiding her face from him again. She covered her head with her arms as she did, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a tiny, inconspicuous ball.

This…

This was not what he had anticipated.

At least, not in such abundance. Belos knew she would react badly as he let the inevitable blow-up from Hunter play out. The boy was primed to be untrustworthy of her from the start, and him reacting in anger was not something he had to influence him to do. So he let it play out, keeping her on ice until it did, just to make sure it hits her hard, as penance for going behind his back. But this much guilt and anger which choked up in her throat, it wasn’t in his plan.  Her face flushed with embarrassment, eyes reddened with tears as she continued to curse herself, it was as heart wrenching of a sight as it was intoxicating.

Perhaps the near death experience amplified her emotions.

Her reacting so strongly was not part of his plan. Admittedly, her starting this entire little endeavour behind his back wasn’t what he had expected in the first place , either, but she had started making it a habit of taking him by surprise.

Selena doing something secretive, and with Hunter - it was like a trigger being pulled, left over sensitive and raw by having to watch way too many grimwalkers, sooner or later, go behind his back over one thing or another. A betrayal, after betrayal, after betrayal , just like-

And Hunter… Hunter was so much like him . Despite everything, he didn't want to replace him, not so soon. Not ever , if he could help it.

Lord, give him just this one

So his temper flared - he wished it hadn’t. Not in front of her. Not when she was opening up to him. It was a miscalculation, a misstep, a pesky emotional reaction he never should have let surface. But it had, and now the spiralling consequences caught up, always spiralling consequences, which he struggled so hard to control. He had to have control, if he didn’t, then he loses , and he can’t bare to lose-

Belos could feel himself spiralling, slowly but surely, the stress from the day prior creeping up in the dead of the night, making his throat clench and breathing pick up. The woman next to him continuing her rant, however, was more than enough to drag him back before his thoughts ventured further.

"And I missed the stupid… Blight sale, too!" Her temper flared, open palm hitting the mattress out of frustration "I promised to be there, and I wasn't!" She pressed her knuckles to her forehead as she pouted "And I didn't get to see Odalia's face turn red with anger at that letter I was gonna give her, either!"

It served well enough. Dragging him back from the edge. The childishly petty comment Selena made at the end was more than enough to lift his spirits.

"I'm sure Hunter would be more than happy to tell you all about how madam Blight reacted to the letter you intended for her." Belos said coolly, satisfied when he got the dumbfounded reaction he wanted to see. Feeling smug, he further elaborated "Hunter volunteered to go in your stead. With how worried he seemed for your wellbeing, I couldn't refuse such a request."

He saw how the cogs turned in her head, trying to make sense of things "He was…worried?" She asked softly, bewildered.

Belos nodded "He seemed very eager, as well." He raised his hand and placed it on top of her head. "I do not know what transpired between you two, but I can tell you with certainty that Hunter felt incredibly guilty because of it." He chuckled as he continued "He had been patrolling outside my chambers ever since you were brought here, hoping I'd invite him in to see you. It took quite a bit of convincing on my part before he left to get some rest."

Hearing this seemed to have finally placated the oracle. Not fully, mind you, but enough that her chest stopped shaking with sobs and her eyes became a little less dull. Still, Selena stayed silent and withdrawn, her mind running a thousand miles an hour. Knowing it would take a little more coaxing before she let him charm her back to sleep, Belos stretched his arm out towards the door, the red glow of his magic more than noticeable in the darkness of the night.

"How about some warm soup?" He offered as a full bowl floated into the room, into his awaiting hand. "There was still some mist coming from your lips when you were sobbing, Hettie said it would help."

Selena peeked from where she sat as he offered it to her "That doesn't look very warm to me."

Belos raised an eyebrow behind his mask. With his other hand, he spun his finger above the soup, once, twice, and in seconds hot steam rose above the bowl, which he then offered once more to the girl. She gave it a distrusting look, eyes fleeting up to him for a second (forgetting in her exhausted state that she could not get a read on his expression, as he was still very much hidden behind a mask), before gingerly reaching out and accepting the bowl into her hold. Selena readjusted herself on the bed, sitting with her back propped up against the numerous pillows and headboard, she cradled the soup between her chest and her knees.

Abandoning the spoon completely, she brought the bowl to her lips, taking a tentative gulp "It's…very nice." Selena muttered, the edge of the bowl resting on her bottom lip. "Thank you, Emperor."

"You're welcome." Belos returned just as politely "Now make sure to finish the entire thing, the warmth should help chase the frostmist clear out of your lungs."

Selena noded, taking another sip. It was easy to eat it that way, as it was a clear soup, no noodles and just the occasional chopped veggie. She definitely could feel the warmth spreading from the inside with every single gulp, reminding her of the way hot cocoa felt so amazing after coming inside the winter cabin they would rent at the Knee. It felt nostalgic, somehow.

The two settled into a somewhat comfortable silence, or the closest thing to it. The emperor was even being polite enough not to stare insistently, as he so usually did, instead his gaze transfixed on to the window across the room from them.

"Have you calmed down a little?"

Selena didn't look at him, opting to stare ahead as well "...a little."

There was a deep hum from Belos, acknowledging her answer. They stayed like that for a moment or two longer. Both choosing to remain silent on the dark thoughts that loomed over their heads, like a gloom cloud threatening to brim over with boiling rain, leaving burn marks everywhere in its wake.

"Perhaps-" Belos started slowly "-we should try bringing your thoughts away from…such a dark place." His head tilted slightly towards her "How about you tell me all about when you started being so interested in humans?"

There was a loud sigh which could have passed as a groan coming from the Oracle "Oh Titan…I don't think I can say it." She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes "It's embarrassing. You'll just laugh at me."

"I promise I won't."

Selena now let out an actual groan "No, you totally will! Believe me!" When he chuckled, she pointed at him accusingly "There, you already started!"

"Selena." The man pleaded, and Selena could imagine the puppy dog eyes he must have been pulling behind the mask "I promise. Please?"

Hearing him say please so sweetly (well, hearing him say please at all), it gave her goosebumps and made her head feel light. And it definitely cracked her resolve like a griffin egg, all the way through.

Well, it couldn't hurt, she reasoned with herself. It was just a super embarrassing story from her youth she was about to tell to the Emperor of the Isles, no big deal.

Sighing really, really deeply, she started her story "When I was younger. And dumber ." She handed him the almost finished bowl of soup, and Belos placed it on the night table "I already heard stories about humans, right? How they come from another realm, weird, with no magic, kind of high-strung. It’s rumoured that, sometimes… they're witch hunters, too." She grimaced at that, not noticing how Belos turned his head away at that statement. "Well, when I was about… maybe eleven? Or was it twelve? It was a while ago, I can't remember precisely. Either way, we were supposed to write an essay for school. It was all about how well we could do research, so we were free to choose any subject, and I decided that the human realm should be an easy thing to write about."

Still staring into the distance, Belos interjected "And was it? Easy to write about?"

Selena let out a little huff through her nose instead of laughing fully "Surprisingly, it really wasn't." She responded with a small smile as she sank further into the many pillows behind her "The available literature was limited, and it seemed…very badly researched." She scrunched up her nose disapprovingly "If I could notice that at my age, you could only imagine what it was like." Belos let out a small laugh under his breath at that assessment, and she joined him as she remembered further "I was so upset, you wouldn't believe it." Selena snickered "Here was an assignment I thought would be effortless on my part, and it was giving me such a headache. I complained loudly to my parents about it, how all the literature was trash, and how was it possible the library didn't have better books on humans? And they, in return, told my grandparents and uncle about how cute I was, all outraged and stomping my feet over unprofessional scientific papers at the age of, like, twelve."

"I don't blame them." Belos added, mirth obvious in his voice "You probably were very cute."

Thank the Titan for the shroud of the night, because Selena felt her cheeks flushing at that comment.

"A-anyway-" she stuttered slightly "-it was my uncle who came to the rescue. He persuaded master librarian Malphas to let us into the Forbidden Stacks. It wasn't that hard - apparently he was indebted to my grandmother after she predicted a devastating fire in the library, that they were then able to stop before it destroyed everything. So, Magnus took me to the off-limits wing, where there were more obscure books about humans and their realm. I think running through the Forbidden Stacks and climbing the bookshelves as high as the ceiling has to be one of my fondest memories." She smiled softly to herself as she remembered "But none of the books there came close to this one journal I found, hidden away."

She failed to hear how Belos' breath hitched in his lungs "A journal, you say?"

"The personal journal of a human called Philip Wittebane.” she smiled fondly ”A long time ago, he explored the Demon Realm. Humans used to come here, can you believe it?" Selena sighed dreamily, and then hid her face behind her hands "Goodness, it's so embarrassing just thinking about it!" She giggled nervously behind her hands "But the way he wrote, oh! It captivated me, every part of me! I read the journal over and over, cover to cover, like such a little lovestruck weirdo. I started imagining what it would be like, meeting this human from centuries ago. Then I started writing about it in my own journal, too - Make believe stories where we meet and he whisks me away to the human realm."

It was all too much - Belos couldn't stop himself. His shoulders were shaking as he did his best to stifle the laugh, his hand flying under the mask to cover his mouth and muffle any sound threatening to escape. Seeing this, the oracle gasped in outrage.

"Emperor!" Selena whined, hiding behind her fingers once more "You promised!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" As soon as he opened his mouth to apologise, a louder laugh escaped him "I simply couldn't help myself!"

The oracle groaned, sliding down on the bed till she was barely visible from the cushions and covers surrounding her "I knew it, I told you so!" She despaired loudly, which only served to fuel the fire behind Belos' laugh more.

"Come on now, don't be like that, it's sweet!" Belos tried reassuring her "It's very sweet, really it is!"

"You can't even say that with a straight face!"

With lungs still filled with laughter, Belos reached for her, taking the wrist closest to him and pulling that hand away from her face, exposing her while she tried to hide. "I mean it - it's a type of innocent wonder only a child could hold. Thank you for sharing that story with me, I very much enjoyed it." he tilted his head to the side “A little crush on a human, how quaint .”

Selena struggled to hide her entire face with only one hand, so unfortunately one eye was peeking out through her fanned out fingers, forced to face Belos "I'm glad someone at least enjoyed it, because I for one am mortified." Her complaining only made him snicker again, very obviously enjoying the torment she was being put through "You should have let the black ice take me."

This earned her a laugh from the emperor "Unfortunately -" he started cheekily, releasing her wrist from his grip "- it would seem that Lady Luck decided not to let the ice take you. Or, in layman's terms: You're stuck with me, my dear."

"It would seem so." Selena muttered, unconsciously placing the hand that he let her take back gingerly against her cheek. Thanks to the frostmist that still lingered in her body, It felt noticeably warmer from his touch. "Well, for better or for worse it is, then, that we're stuck together." She half-joked, a dry chuckle escaping her.

"For better or for worse." Belos echoed, decidedly, as if putting a dot at the end of that conversation "I do wonder, though, whatever happened to the journal?" He changed the subject, catching her by surprise.

"Oh, hmm." Selena thought about it "I tried sneaking it back home, but I was caught and forced to return it. It's probably still in the forbidden stacks." Selena moved around, pushing the pillows around and getting more comfy on the bed. "Probably for the worse, the stacks were not in the best of shape when I was last there, there were way too many echo mice in there for comfort." Crossing her arms, her brows knitted together in thought "I remember copying parts of it by hand to bring home, not much of it because I was still writing an essay but… I wonder if any of that survived the last move, it was stacked in a box somewhere in the old house's attic I think…"

Letting out a deep, forlorn sigh, Selena finally seemed to have nestled fully in the bed. "I don't know… call it a weird oracle sixth sense or whatever you wish, but I feel like the journal probably got damaged beyond repair through the years." The way she pursued her lips and her eyes squinted, it was obvious she believed that truly and that it made her heart ache. 

“That is very defeatist of you.”

“Unfortunately, I’m rarely wrong on such matters.” she said, more decidedly, a certainty in her voice as she defended her forementioned sixth sense she spoke of earlier. "It breaks my heart to think about it, but the Stacks really are a place books go to die.” She turned to lie on her side, pulling the covers tightly under her arms, eyes at half-mast as they gazed sleepily up at the man sitting at the edge of the bed “Some of it still remains, though, up here.” her fingers gently rapped against her forehead to further illustrate her point “Shame that memories tend to be so fickle, though.”

Belos scooched slightly closer, leaning over the girl's form as he watched her let out a tiny yawn “Memories are all we have sometimes, and are more precious than any books lost to time.” he said as his hand slowly raised, pressing the tips of his middle and index finger to her forehead "Now, get some rest, Lena."

With a soft exhale, the magic washed over her and Selena was out like a light.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next time Selena awoke, the room was bright, washed in the warm rays of the sun. She hailed the morning, after a night that seemed to have lasted far too long. It almost felt like a dream, a hallucination, as bits and pieces came together the more her brain awoke, forming into one coherent story.

Her thoughts wandered back, as she puzzled together the pieces of the dream that plagued her after her waltz with death, but it felt useless as her mind would default back again and again to the late night conversations with the Emperor. To how he made sure she was taken care of, and that she would recover no matter the cost.

To how she was in the Emperor's most private chambers, occupying his bed, wearing a man's button up blouse that hung loosely over her hands and down to her thighs. It didn't take a genius to connect whose blouse it was.

Who changed her, anyway?!

So the dream (if she could even really call it one because there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head that it may have been a bit too real to be either a dream or a premonition or omen), while she could recall it perfectly, lay forgotten in lieu of more…pressing issues.

However, she didn't get much time to herself (or her thoughts) - mere minutes after she opened her eyes, the room was crowded by Emperor Belos and coven head Hettie.

"Perfect!" Hettie cooed as she checked her vitals "You are recovering just perfectly, my Lady! At this rate, I feel confident in dismissing you by this afternoon!" She turned to Selena, who was trying not to stare too long at either her or Belos (who loomed behind the healer, watching her work), feeling too self-conscious now when she wasn’t hidden away by the shroud of night "Alright, my Lady, head and back straight, look directly up and take in the deepest breath you can-" Selena did exactly as she ordered, lying on her back straight as a plank "-aaaand exhale all the way out, let all the air out of your lungs…there we go! Good, good " she muttered to herself, taking out a little vial from her belt "There is barely any frostmyst left, just some bubbling over your lips before it completely dissipates. Here, you should take one last dose of Vitimir's potion, just as a safety precaution."

Belos reached over and took the vial from her before she could offer it to Selena "I'll make sure she drinks it, thank you Hettie."

If she found it weird, Hettie didn't show it. Just lifted the edge of her lips slightly, a hint of a smirk "Of course, Emperor. I trust you will." She replied and stood up from where she sat on the edge of the bed 

"...I can drink it by myself…" Selena let out childishly, but her objection was received to deaf ears.

"Now my lady, I trust you to be a good girl and listen to our Emperor. He only has your best interest in mind - you won't get better care anywhere else on the Isles!" Hettie chastised cheerfully "And make sure to finish your soup, too!" She added at the end, pleased as pudding when she got an obedient "Yes, ma'am" from her patient. She made her way to the door, more than happy to entrust her care into the Emperor's capable (and awaiting) hands.

Following her to the door, Belos addressed her in a hushed tone "Is Magnus still outside?"

"I don't think he ever left, my Lord." Hettie answered "Should I let him in?"

Belos shook his head “No, I’ll call for him myself. Just tell him she's doing alright.” He put a hand to her shoulder, leaning in slightly  "If it is not too much trouble, can you send for the Golden Guard? The boy was very troubled last night, I'd like to ease his worries as well."

"Of course, Emperor Belos. It will pose no trouble at all."

And just like that, with a bow and a smile, Hettie was gone. Leaving only Belos and Selena in his royal bedchambers once more. He stood by the door, looking out and waiting for Hettie to leave his sitting room, then quietly closing the door.

"Busy, busy." Selena heard him sigh, his back still turned to her "At least you are well on the road to recovery." He looked at her over his shoulder "But how are you feeling, Selena?"

“As well as I could, Emperor.” The woman sat up in bed, making sure to keep the (now substantially less of them) covers up to her waist. The mens button-up she wore covered down to the middle of her thighs, but she wasn’t taking any chances. With a dry chuckle, she added “All things considered”

“All things considered indeed .” he repeated as he made his way back to her, taking up the spot on the edge of the bed once more as he had numerous times before. “Perhaps this could be a learning moment for you, then, about the dangers of fraternising with wild witches.” Selena groaned, throwing her head back and sinking back into the pillows “Don’t groan at me." He chastised her, in a very parental manner "I did warn you, but I suppose you just have too soft of a heart." He did sound earnest, but the oracle could hear his words as nothing more than mocking.

“Oh come now, Emperor Belos, and we were having such a wonderful time together.” she snapped back “Don’t ruin it.”

“These wild witches, these untrustworthy hexen , they are dangerous-”

“No more dangerous than any witch in a coven!”

“I was terrified!” he raised his voice, the tone making Selena flinch, the worry in his words coiling tightly around her heart “Your skin was blue, it was cold as ice to the touch, I was convinced you met your death!” he turned away from her, focusing instead on his open palm. “I held you in my arms and could not feel your heartbeat, could not hear you breathing-” his voice cut off, trembling, like it could not go further as the memories swarmed him.

He… was the one who held her? 

All the anger she held when he started to push his crusader agenda dissipated in seconds, replaced instead by guilt. Guilt that she made him worry this much. The hurt in his voice was like a vice in her chest, constricting and painful. Without thinking, she reached for him, wanting nothing more than to offer comfort. Against her better judgement, shaking hands found his arm, resting on his back and bicep, tugging him just a sliver closer to her as she leaned towards him, letting her forehead press against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Selena let out, just above a whisper “I’m sorry to have made you worry.”

She knew she crossed boundaries that never should be crossed, coming so close to the ruler of the Isles; her heart fluttered in fear at the thought. But as she heard his erratic breathing hitch in his throat, as if he forgot how to breathe for a moment, before he let out a long, shaky breath, one she felt under her skin, feeling how he calmed down at her touch, she let those worries go to the back of her mind. If he minded it, he didn’t word it out loud.

Perhaps the Emperor was right. Perhaps she did have too soft of a heart.

Afterall, here she was, comforting the man she considered her enemy. If that wasn’t a sign of weakness, too caring, too soft and easily manipulated, then nothing was. So much of a bleeding heart that all the disgust and fear she would feel at his touch was long forgotten. All it took was him showing a glimmer of genuine emotion. She didn’t even flinch when his hand covered the one she had placed on his arm, letting him do so and find comfort.

“I’m fine now.” she reassured him “So you don’t need to worry anymore.” she gave his arm a squeeze, one last offer of comfort, and pulled away. His hand lingered where it was, where it held hers, for a moment longer. As if savouring the touch.

Belos let out a long, heavy sigh “You’re fine now.” he muttered low and under his breath, the only reason Selena heard him was because it was the only sound in the tranquillity of the bedchambers. And, despite it only lasting seconds, to Selena it felt like they hadn’t moved for painstakingly long minutes. She memorised every single speckle on the back of her hands as she held them in her lap where she sat, feeling too awkward to look anywhere else.

Finally, finally , she heard the Emperor clear his throat and straightened his back, gathering up the last of his dignity that he let crumble for a moment, putting back the facade. Just the little change in his posture felt like it changed his entire demeanour, like it erased completely what transpired just moments before.

The way he controlled the room was nothing short of both astounding and terrifying.

He turned back around, facing her once more and beckoning her closer “Come, I need to administer the last potion to you.”

Vaguely, Selena remembered mentions of a potion, one that Hettie wanted to give her but that Belos snatched away before she could “I can drink it by myself.” The protest was weak on her lips and they both knew it.

“Now now.” he tutted and examined the vial he held up in the air. It was gold in colour, warm and glowing (which made sense as it was meant to chase away the cold) “What did dear Hettie say to you before she left?”

It took a second for Selena to snap her attention away from the glowing gold in the vial, images of golden moths dancing in the back of her mind “Uhh… to be good and listen to the Emperor?”

“That’s right, good job.” Selena felt her entire body bristle at the dripping condescension “To be a good girl and listen to your Emperor, if we want to be more precise.” he turned to her, and this time, his eyes were glowing behind the mask “Now, be a good girl for me and come here.”

Whatever sympathy, whatever grace there was, it burned up, eaten by the blue blaze that lay dormant in her chest where Belos had lit it the first time he dared call her that. It overpowered everything else in an instant, swallowed it whole, until she felt nothing but the fire and the smoke, burning up from the inside. She told herself it was anger, even though anger ran red, not ice blue (just like his eyes). And now after she had felt the biting cold of the black ice, feeling this again made her head spin .

Every time he called her that she made a mental note to beat up and traumatise more of his precious little scouts.

"Come, Selena, I don't have all day." Belos gripped her wrist, giving an insistent tug. Which, taken aback and overwhelmed as she was, didn't register fully with her, so her body instinctively scooched over.

Way too close.

"Your uncle has been waiting outside, by the way." Belos mentioned offhandedly, letting go of her wrist once he was satisfied with how close she was. "As soon as we are done with your medicine, I'll let him in to see you."

"My- Magnus?" His spell on her seemed to break on her momentarily "How- how long has he been waiting?"

Belos didn't answer right away, instead turning the vial in his hand, then removing the cork at the top with a surprisingly loud 'pop' "Oh, I'd say he had been patrolling outside my room the entire night, like a caged animal." His hand, surprisingly casually as if he's done this a hundred times before, loosely gripped her jaw "Now, the potion is apparently hot going down, so try not to jerk away until you've drunk it all."

"I, uh, I guess I'll try?" Selena let out nervously, eyes bouncing between the potion in his other hand and his mask, not quite sure where to even look and not feel like dying of embarrassment.

She heard him let out a loud breath through his nose, a hint of a chuckle "Good girl."

Titan damn him, why does he have to do that-

Belos pressed the vial to her parted lips, the fingers gripping her jaw tilting her head back as he did. The liquid hit her tongue, and it tasted… sparkly. Is that even a taste? Either way, it was the closest word she could use to describe it. Selena quickly swallowed, and it felt swelteringly hot as it went down her throat. A jarring opposite to how the frostmist felt when it started taking over her lungs. Selena shuddered as her entire body flushed with heat. It was as if she took a full gulp from the boiling sea itself.

It didn't hurt, at least not in the way one would expect burning to hurt, but Titan it felt bad .

Selena jerked away fast, despite the emperor's prior warnings, but the hand on her jaw kept her static as the last of the potion drained from the vial. Belos tsk'd loudly, removing the vial away from her lips and tugging her closer to him, his mask uncomfortably close "Selena, I told you Not. To. Move." He warned, enunciating his point by jolting her head to the beat of his last three words.

He watched as the witches entire face scrunched up and turned red - he could feel it grow hot where he held her - eyes closed and lips pursed shut as she tried to shake his hold off of her "Did you swallow all of it?" Feverishly, she nodded, and he let go of her jaw "Good."

Selena instantly jumped back, decorum and modesty be damned as she landed on her bum, covers gone and forgotten. She clutched at her chest as the heat burned all the way down, spreading through her veins like liquid metal. It felt horrid, absolutely horrid (especially for her, who never was a fan of the sweltering weather of the Isles, this was torture) . Selena doubled over, feeling something bubble in her chest and rise up the same path that the accursed potion just went down through.

A gentle hand landed on top of her head, running through her hair "Breathe, Selena."

Such a strong sense of deja vu.

The oracle exhaled deeply, letting out the air that was trapped in her lungs before she started convulsing. And while she couldn't see it, on account of her eyes being screwed shut, she could feel it - feel it move up her windpipe, push up her throat, and bubble at her mouth, leaving her lips and caressing her cheeks as it spiralled up and above into the air.

"There we go." She heard Belos hum above her.

His fingers detangling her hair felt strangely soothing.

When it (she assumed it was a lingering bubble of frostmist still lodged in her lungs) was out, the sweltering heat started to subside. She had to concentrate on her breathing, feeling like she ran a mile, having to manually force herself not to gulp it down greedily like she just came up for air. And, worst of all, Selena felt super gross. Now that the overwhelming feeling of flames had been snuffed out just as fast as it came, she realised just how clammy and sweaty her skin had become. 

"That was…" a pathetic whine left her, which she tried her best to mask as annoyance "...that was the absolute worst."

She heard Belos chuckle above her, giving her a little pat. "You're far too old to act like a baby about taking your medicine."

The oracle scoffed loudly. Becoming aware that the sheets - that were so pleasantly cold before - had become disgustingly warm, she straightened up, doing her best to push down the button up blouse down her thighs as she did. "Yeah, I'd like to see how you'd handle that." She ran her hand through her hair and grimaced - her scalp was uncomfortably hot, and the base of her hair was covered in sweat. 

Gross.

"I wasn't the one who almost died."

"No, but if it weren't for me, you would have been dead."

She saw his glowing eyes narrow in annoyance "Touche."

Gods, she hated feeling this warm. She was actually yearning for the cold that rattled her bones whilst she was buried under piles of blankets. Forming a spell circle, Selena lifted it up to her face, the glowing ring blowing air into her face like a fan. She let out a content sigh. It felt like heaven on her flushed skin.

"That should have been the last of the frostmist, according to Hettie." Belos explained, slowly getting to his feet "So you should be clear to leave later today."

Selena was in too much bliss to look at him, eyelids fluttering shut at the pleasant breeze "What time is it?"

"Seven forty five in the morning." Belos quickly answered, heading for the door "I'll call for Magnus, but before I do-" he paused once he reached the door, opening it and looking back at her. Hearing him trail off like that, Selena cracked one eye open, and saw his glowing eyes move over her, starting from her face and slowly (uncomfortably so) moving all the way down "-perhaps you should make yourself more… presentable?"

Her eyebrows arched up in confusion, craning her neck down to follow his gaze -

The magic fan ring was all in vain as her face flushed hot once again. To her absolute horror, most of the buttons on the blouse had come undone without her noticing, revealing way too much of her thighs than any self respecting lady of her stature would be comfortable showing a man. With a loud squeak, she scrambled for one of the covers, struggling to untangle it from under her. 

She heard doors open and close, but not before the now unmistakable sound of the Emperor's deep, satisfied chuckle.

She cursed him internally just as she accidentally fell over unceremoniously after she pulled on the cover under her too hard.

Oh, Midnight was gonna have a blast taking out all these anger issues stacking on top of each other like a game of jenga as soon as she was out of the palace.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Just like he promised, Emperor Belos had let her uncle come into his private abode, to visit her and make sure she was safe. Magnus, ever the stoic, intimidating figure, walked in with a familiar scowl on his face, an aura of doom and gloom entering before even he did.

The oppressive aura lifted the moment he saw her.

Before she could even greet him properly, he power walked to her and enveloped her in a spine-breaking embrace, almost knocking her completely over.

"Thank the Titan you're okay." Magnus muttered into her hair, hanging on to her even tighter, her much smaller frame completely engulfed and hidden from sight by him.

"I'm fine, uncle, I'm fine." Selena managed to wheeze out, patting his back in an attempt to get him to lessen his grip "Don't worry, I'm fine."

"I was worried sick!" Magnus gave one last squeeze, making Selena let out a breathless squeak of pain, and released her. Holding her by the shoulders, his eyes moved erratically over her face, checking to see if anything was amiss. "The moment I heard the news spread through the palace, that someone was hurt, I knew it was you."

Yeah, the Oracle senses sometimes really sucked. The feeling of dread in one's gut that something bad happened tends to be correct nine times out of ten.

Magnus' eyes softened when he saw no injury on her, and he took her face into his hands, sighing as he felt his heart fill with ease. She was there. She wasn't dead. Selena, seeing his worry, put her hands over his.

"I was careless." She said quietly "And I got hurt trying to fix it. But I'm alright now." She looked behind Magnus at Belos, who stood by the door with his arms crossed while he observed them, like a fly on the wall. "Emperor Belos, in all his grace, made sure I was given the best of care."

"It was the least I could do to thank you for saving my life." At the sound of Belos' voice, she saw Magnus' scowl deepen.

Magnus was, according to her mom and gran, a tightly woven bundle of anger,  bubbling under the very thin surface. Not that Selena ever saw that anger come out except for a specifically scathing remark, or in the constant scowl he wore. Not to say Ursula and Isabella weren't known for being spitfires themselves. However, the two of them didn’t try to hide it or internalise it, like Magnus did. It’s… hereditary , to say the least.

Magnus, however, never let it show, at least not in front of her nor her siblings. Which didn’t mean she didn’t know it was there, oh no. She knew, and right now, she saw it in that scowl and the ugly downturn of his lips. And knowing the possibility of his horrid temper rearing its ugly head, already showing in how his lips snarled, and knowing how absolutely unhinged Emperor Belos could be, Selena panicked internally once the realisation hit that if there was a clash, it would leave no prisoners. In this room - nor in the Palace for that matter.

Titan, how could he torture her like this, forcing her in to the position where she was forced to walk the tightrope as she was thrust in to the position of peacemaker to these two fully grown men.

Selena gripped her uncle's hands harshly, nails digging in, forcing his attention back to her. She frowned at him, giving a decisive glare from under her brows, and gave him a very miniscule shake of her head.

“The Emperor has been very kind to me, staying by my bedside vigilantly.” she asserted, glowering daggers into his eyes “I could not have asked for better company.”

“Don’t start anything, damn you.” She forced her way into his mind, opening a telepathic connection just to deliver the warning, cutting it off cold turkey as soon as she had her say. The message was simple - she wasn’t taking any objections.

Magnus, taken aback by how quickly her presence came and left his mind, seemed dumbfounded for a second, eyes widening and eyebrows arching up. But he quickly shook it off, his trademark glare returning along with a grimace as he bared his teeth in annoyance. He rolled his eyes dramatically and pulled his hands away from her face, the irritated expression clearly saying “Fine. But I do not have to like it.”

The older Fortuna decided to stop crowding her and moved to the edge of the bed, opting to just pretend Belos wasn’t there. “When will you be let out?” 

“Later today.” Selena smiled when she saw him relax his face, forcing himself to calm down “I was given potions by coven head Vitimir that helped remove the curse, and they worked so well that coven head Hettie cleared me earlier this morning.”

“I’ll be there to take you.” Magnus quickly answered, not leaving her room for arguments as he cast a spell circle, summoning his personal crystal ball to him. It landed heavily in his hand. “Now, Ursula said to contact her as soon as I got to you-” he saw Selena’s eyes widen in horror as soon as he said that “-don’t give me that look, of course I told her! She’s your mother!”

“B-b-but do you have to call her?!” she glanced nervously at Belos “Now?!”

“She needs to know you’re okay.” Magnus stated matter-of-factly “Everyone in the family has been worried since last night!”

Selena whined in despair and ran her hands down her face. Peeking from behind her uncle, she addressed the Emperor, who was leaning against the wall near the door and waiting patiently “Ah… Emperor Belos, I know it’s incredibly rude of me to ask you this, but -”

Belos raised his hand, a gesture that silenced her in an instant “I’ll give you privacy, do not worry.” he replied coolly and pushed himself off the wall “I’d hate to intrude on a touching family moment like this.”

“Thank you.” Selena smiled at him, a weight taken off of her chest as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

[saturnville]

take care.

pairing. damon sims x black!fem!oc. warning: 18+ steam. content: massages after games are his favorite. prompt. “i’ll take care of you.”

“I’ll take care of you.”

Her voice was a gentle breeze during the autumn morning. Quiet and gentle as it whisked through the atmosphere. Her words tickled his ears and captured his attention with a quickness he’d never known before.

The corners of his mouth twitched as his need for self control increased, and his imagination ran rampant. Suddenly, his gentleman-like thoughts shifted to those of a more animalistic version of himself he chose to keep hidden.

His eyes searched hers—boats of caramel cream sailing calm seas of chocolate delight. They glistened with a desire he’d began to notice more frequently. He would accept all that she was willing to give.

“You will?” he said after some time. Soft melodies of an R&B artist set the mood. His hands, which were tucked behind his head, found a new home on her hips. Her thighs clenched around his waist at the action and he took note of her reaction. Her hips, shown through entryways from her low-rise sweatpants and cropped shirt, were massaged my his coarse thumbs.

“Take off your shirt and lay on your stomach.” Ayana climbed off his body, much to his dismay. He obeyed her command and peeled his maroon training shirt off his body. His head rested on my arms as he awaited further instruction.

Soon, the comfortable pressure on his body returned. Gentle hands palmed his back. He flinched under her touch. The pads of her fingertips prodded every bump, ridge, and divot on his neck, starter from his shoulders down to the small of his neck. Damon released a soft groan at the feeling.

She smiled softly and began to kneed his taut skin gently. With every pass of her hand, the tension released little by little. Damon’s head lulled to the side as her touch eased his tense body.

Her hands danced across his strong shoulders, along his arms, and down his back until she reached his torso. She pressed her thumps into the dimples of his back and giggled at his soft sounds.

“Do you want me to keep going?”she asked after some time. His yes was muffled. However, he turned onto his back and tucked his hands behind his head, “continue.”

Ayana raised an eyebrow as she caught his mischievous smile, but anything for him. Again, she continued. Only this time, he walks crumbled quicker.

He was done for when her hands slid down his chest and stomach, and danced along the peaking waistline of his underwear. His leg jumped beneath her.

“You okay?” she asked after some time.

“Yeah, baby, I’m fine,” he replied. The self-control was slipping from his fingertips and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it. She could see it, though. From his lack of eye contact to the clenching of his fists behind his head.

Noticing this, she lowered her head so her lips came in contact with his neck. She kissed and nipped gently, humming quietly as she ingested the sweet taste of his skin. Damon released a shaky breath.

Her hand trailed his chest and rested against his neck. Gently, she turned his head to further her assault. Large hands cupped her bottom and squeezed gently.

“Ayana, baby…”

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered, biting along the shell of his ear. “I got you.”

[lorei-writes]

Winter Flower

Chapter XIV: Shut up

Masamune x OC [Hana] Summary: Hana wakes up in the gardens of Azuchi castle without any recollection of her past. Who is she? What was she doing there? And most importantly – what is she supposed to do now? Placed under supervision of Lord Date, Hana has to find her footing in the unfamiliar reality of the warring states. Series Masterlist

Content Warnings: none

The relief is quiet, or quieting, the way guilt is loud. But what am I to do about that now? There isn’t a brave fibre in me left. I am ashamed, but as insufferable as it is, it also means my hands can work freely while my mind is occupied – just as it has been up until now, although this time for slightly different reasons.

“I see,” Kojuro sighs, arms crossed in front of his chest. He nods thoughtfully, seemingly mulling over my request, his eyes darting all around the tent before closing. His forehead creases as he brushes his hair back, another sigh emerging from his lungs. “It… certainly would be advantageous if we could arrange that. Are you certain you’re willing to go? You may not be able to come back, and managing injured while on the road can be troublesome.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Perhaps, it is also part what I’m hoping for, but I swallow that thought.

“We most likely won’t be able to assign many soldiers to escort you either. You’ll be an easy target for an attack,” he adds, carefully searching my face for any signs of doubt. I do not wish to show him anything of the like.

“I did… consider the possibility. However, if nothing changes, those men are as good as dead.” I attempt not to waver. Not now, me, not now…

“You’ve struggled to even get here.”

“I did.”

“How will you manage by yourself then?”

“I think I’ve hardened since then,” I reply, my hands rolling into fists by themselves. Please, Kojuro. Please.

“Do you even know the way? You’re knowledge of the current day is severely limited,” he points out, prompting my jaw to clench, my tongue seeking an asylum behind the border of my teeth. However, I need it to speak for me, so I force it to cooperate.

“I will not be the only person accompanying the wounded, though. I’m certain I will be able to rely on others for guidance if needed be, although I do not expect that to happen,” I force the words out like through a sieve, careful not to slip.

“What if you’re attacked?”

“We will not be.”

Kojuro stares at me questioningly, my mock confidence seemingly only giving him reasons to question me further.

“We will depart as soon as you engage their main force. We… will not be able to transport all the wounded, so I suppose we should reach a relatively safe terrain before sundown. From what I’ve gathered, it is unlikely for the enemy to go after us, is it? What advantage would be there to killing a few men who would not make it back to fight in time either way?” I continue in one breath, hoping that the words I put together hold some semblance of sense even when outside of my head. “If we manage to connect with lord Nobunaga, we may gain reinforcements, no? So… so –”

“I’ll think about it some more,” Kojuro sighs. Clearly, this is the furthest he’s willing to go… But I do appreciate even that much.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t. I’ll still have to present the idea to lord Masamune. Nothing’s certain just yet.”

“Nevertheless, it’s plenty,” I disagree,

Kojuro does not seem to be exactly of the same mind, but I am quite convinced this outcome is rather positive. I am not sure why, but in a way, for the first time in days I am certain things will end well, whatever this well may entail. The thought seems to soothe that dormant consciousness within me… Or much rather, even what remains of past me can be soothed by it.

Night has arrived sooner than expected, blooming clouds shedding their petals, withering away for ink depths to take their place. Ripples form around starts, their light clinging firmly onto the canvas behind them, as if wishing to trace and thus reveal a hidden path. They do not spare much of their shine for us mortals between the plains, but no matter. There is still some fire around. There will still be some when the sun rises – and so, I use the flames as a guide, my very dim, very own shadow following me with caution. It is not a long walk this time, and no matter how much I stall, the time runs too fast. I take a deep breath, hide what needs not be seen, hide it even from myself… I clench my fists. I need not tremble. I shouldn’t, just as I shouldn’t fear. Soon… Soon all will clear, I am sure of it, so please, me, cause no further worry. To anybody. Especially not him. I step forward and into a familiar tent.

There are no lanterns here, but it is fine that way. A similar scenario occurs each day, and this night is no exception. Masamune shifts over his bed (although that may be a somewhat generous word to be used here), a sense of guilt welling up inside of my chest.

“It’s just me. Go back to sleep,” I whisper out before seating myself down in my own place.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” he murmurs in a somewhat rasp voice… I suppose he did need to strain it a fair amount. “Where have you been?”

“I went to see Kojuro.”

“Nightmares again?”

“Yeah,” I lie. He, however, does not seem to realise that much.

Masamune moves again, this time to push his body to the edge of the bed, and just as I realise it, he speaks up, “C’mere.”

“No.”

“Come on. You’ll get better rest,” he insist.

“I don’t want to.”

“Just to sleep, I promise.”

Oh. Perhaps I’ve misunderstood the situation. “Fine,” I yield.

His chest is warm against my back, but oddly enough, there is only cold to his touch. My heart pounds, so I try to distract myself away from his arms, and from the way his breath tickles my ear. In the most literal sense of the word, his embrace is secure – there is no harm there, no lingering threats waiting patiently to fulfil themselves. His words are worth more than gold, after all, more than silks, or gems, or… a golden sea of delicious broth… My stomach speaks for me, or at me. It complains through a loud growl. How could you give up my dinner? it seems to ask. Well, I could, and I did, and now it appears I have a more pressing issue on my hands. Thank you, stomach. I’ll remember it, you fiend.

“Kitten, did you invite a bear in?” Masamune lets out a weak laugh.

“I did not.” And I am not nearly hissing right now. Most definitely not burning up in embarrassment either.

“A dog then?”

“Stop it.”

“It definitely wasn’t a cat purr just now,” he shamelessly chuckles. How dare? And here I am trying to be modest about being hungry.

“You’re terrible.”

“Your stomach thinks just that about you,” Masamune jabs back, his finger – cruelly! – poking at my side. “Since when are you skipping meals, hm?”

“I’ve been busy and forgot!” I whisper-shout. He does not believe me, or so I reckon based on the tickling assault that he launches. Damn you, you —!

“You know, if you asked nicely enough, I would have whipped you something up.”

Oh. Stop it, stop it, stop that…

“Maybe next time.”

“Make it so that there’s no next time,” he grumbles back. His embrace grows tighter, and so I let out some of the breath I’ve been holding back.

“Fine. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

The silence that follows feels thick, the back of my throat itching for the unspoken words to be freed. I close my eyes, however, and let it be. We do not talk about the things that are the hardest to say out loud, do we? Not here, not there, not then… Not now. Certainly not now.

I welcome the morning by myself, but it is not long before the sense of guilt resurfaces to keep me the company. On any other day, I’d be beyond worried, but today… I am relieved. Of all the feelings, relieved. It does not seem appropriate, but the relief does not appear concerned about that – about that, or about bloodied bandages, festering wounds, fevers, sprains, broken bones, cries, sleepless eyes… Dead bodies that, although they may not be piling up, do need to be carried out. Or even the fact that nothing is certain.

The relief is quiet, or quieting, the way guilt is loud. But what am I to do about that now? There isn’t a brave fibre in me left. I am ashamed, but as insufferable as it is, it also means my hands can work freely while my mind is occupied – just as it has been up until now, although this time for slightly different reasons. The thought that I may be leaving does keep me afloat.

You shouldn’t have come.

Shut up. I know that much. I’m fixing it now —

“Hana,” somebody calls from just above my head. I peel my eyes away from the man I’ve been restraining, his arm flexing against mine as I do my best to hold him still for the (actual) medic to do the work.

“Yes?”

“Switch with me. We’ll need you to help in the evening. It’ll be no good if you’ll tremble all over from tiredness,” the man explains. I purse my lips – be that as it may, he has been a patient of mine just yesterday, so to let him move this early… Well, I do suppose he already has, and will go out on the field soon enough just either way. Nevertheless, I waver, so I look towards others to gauge whether that indeed is not too much to take.

I walk out of the tent, one unsteady thud of my heart at a time. The camp is much quieter now than it has been at night, so much so that my ears ring as I look around. Guilt strikes, relief answers – meanwhile, I just step forward, further and further, until I cannot hear them talking anymore… until nobody groans.

Where to now?

Shut up. I’m trying to be in control now. So lock yourself up and stay quiet, just the way you were up until I allowed you to come out.

My mouth has dried up completely, each breath having me believe somebody has fed me sand. I frown, something inside of me crumbling at the thought that I’d have to go back to the injured to get a cup of water. I do not want to, not now… Just give me a moment of peace, just for a little longer. Is that asking for too much?

The answer dawns on me as I realise that I could very well bring in more water. We need it, don’t we? So why not let me go? Granted, I will not be able to carry as much as others would… But some is better than none. Everything counts. Here, now. Everything. Counts.

It does not take long for me to convince the soldiers standing guard to let me out. It was a short exchange at best, but it was so inconsequential that it has slipped my mind completely. What matters is the river cutting across the plains, its shy murmurs that seem to inquire about me, each splash a song of a…

siren.

Shut.

Up.

Perhaps it is my attitude that is the issue. If it is me that talks, then it is not a conversation, but an act of remembering. I should not reply – but all those thoughts fade away quickly enough, carried away by the stinging cool that embraces my hand as they slip into the water. I bring it to my lips, greedy and much too preoccupied with drinking to even make sure that I am safe now. All I need is in front of me. I can think once I’m satiated, think once I erase the traces of this nagging, think once —

Don’t move.

I lift my eyes and fall back onto my behind. The man I’ve met back in Azuchi is standing on the opposite riverbank… and it is only now that I realise that this sweetly medicinal scent that seems to follow him has permeated the plains around.

--

Series tag list: @cheese-ception @nuttytani

[mamalunawolf]

The (Almost) Capable Woman

TW: mature and sexual content. Minors don’t interact. Mentions of three people. Professor Riddle X ocreader (Amaya) X oc(Jackson) 🔞

Amaya and Jackson are mine. Thank you 😊

Author notes: I wrote this while putting my kid to sleep. So I’m sorry if it seems off. Also they are all adults in this time. I absolutely love how this went. Even though I made Amaya seem like a whore. But I swear in actuality, she is a loyal one type gal. I wish to roleplay her again.

Amaya wasn’t capable of many things.

Like simple equations or how to act well around others without slipping a few mumbled curses under bated breath. No. She couldn’t even hold a broom properly. Each slip up and she would fall. Or the fact that her history of magic was as bad as Professor Binns. Even though he would go on for hours. Poor girl and how she now became a herbology professor for Hogwarts. At least she had her friend, Jackson who aided her during their school days. Now that he was a top Auror. How kind and gentle he was to her. The way he offered to take her to the Hogsmeade fall festival dance if no one else would. The way her fingers slip so easily and delicately into his hands. Or how a pair of unwanted eyes gazed at her from afar. Seething and wishing to take her as his own. Professor Riddle was quite the character. Either you catch him on his good days or bad days. And the fact he aided her on her defense spells was a phenomenal achievement. Behind closed doors that is. Those private lessons paid off once she won her first duel. And he stood in the corner cheering her silently with a fist almost torn off by his teeth.

Oh how quite the character..

Now it was a matter of time when Professor Slughorn decided to have one of his annual dinners. The old man would talk on for hours and boast about how Tom Riddle was his prized student. And now had her friend, Jackson being the star pupil. How Jackson smiled with pride as she complimented him on his achievements. And Professor Riddle would clench his fork in his hand to the point it almost bent out of shape.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Amaya said softly, placing her napkin onto the side of the table of her now empty plate. Only for both Jackson and Professor Riddle to not hesitate for even a moment. To stand from their seats, the table shifting abruptly. As they wished Amaya a good night. She wasn’t even out of her seat yet when they suddenly stood. Or how oblivious she was to how smitten or head over heels they were for her.

How one wishes to taste her skin while the other wished to have her themselves. And that’s when she realized. She was capable of something.

As she stood in the empty dark classroom. Sitting on top of a desk. Her leg over one man’s shoulder, Jackson on his knees. Letting his lips brush along her inner thigh. While Tom was behind her, his hands touching her sides like she was just a canvas needing to be painted. His lips grazing across her neck. She had the power. She had full control over them. And she was enjoying every minute of it.

[braveclementine]

I'm Running Out of Chapter Names

Warnings: 18+readersonly, pet names, oral, daddy kink, smut, lots of angst, fluff

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

Ghaida in her bridesmaid dress at Elizabeth and Elijahs' wedding. 

🫔👩‍🎓 şŤㄖℝү 😱🥗

"Tony." Trang whined, pushing away the man hovering constantly by her side. "I'm pregnant, not handicapped or dying. I need my work space."

"Sorry." Tony retreated like a puppy with his tail between his legs, hovering at a much better distance, "I'm just worried."

"Yes, and I love that about you, but I'm fine. The lil' baby is fine. We're all fine. Now go back to your work bubs." Trang smirked, pushing her glasses up on her nose, turning back to her new project.

They were new arrows for Clint, Katya, and Kate. Inspired by Elizabeth's water, any person hit with them would turn into a cube of ice. But there were still a few kinks that had to be worked out with the firing of the tips.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? Maybe you shouldn't be on your feet right now." Tony fretted, pacing a little.

Trang put the arrows down, turned, and walked over to Tony. She pushed him down into his chair and straddled him. Bruce looked up from his work and started to watch.

"Tony." Trang said in a warning voice. She wrapped her hand tightly around his tie. "You really, really need to be a good boy, okay?"

"Yep." Tony piped out, wrapping his arms around her waist, leaning forwards to kiss along her collarbone.

"You're being bad." But Trang laughed as he tickled her lightly, hugging him tightly. "Damnit Tony."

"I'm gonna tell Cap you said a bad word." Tony said gleefully, standing up with her in his arms, kissing her again, and then putting her down on her feet, "I am sorry about the hovering. I'm just excited."

"I know." Trang said softly, cupping his face and rubbing her thumb against his cheek. "I'm excited too Tony, but I didn't want a baby to change the way you treat me. That's all. I'm fine. Nothing's changed."

"You're gonna be a mom." Tony whispered against her hair. "Of my child. God I fucking love you."

Trang smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Now go work Tony."

"Yes momma." Tony kissed the top of her head and went back to his work station.

Bruce chuckled and went back to work as well. Trang winked at him, "Love you too Bruce."

Bruce laughed louder now and said, "Love you too Trang. I sort've love you Tony."

"Hey, feelings mutual man." Tony smirked, clapping the other male scientist on the back.

And behind the corner of the wall, a young African American girl clenched her fists in jealousy.

❌🥿 𝕡Ỗｖ 𝐜ⓗÃή𝓰ε 🦔🔭

"You're getting so big." Steve whispered. Penny was laying in his bed, the two of them alone together as Steve ran the fetoscope across her stomach, the two of them looking at the rather large baby inside of her now. "Aww he's so cute."

They didn't know the gender yet, being only roughly five-ish months now and not wanting to know until he or she was birthed. Penny still wasn't sure with names. Names were such a big responsibility. I mean, she would literally give this baby a name of which they would be called for the rest of their lives.

"Does he hurt you at all?" Steve asked in worry. "Rue kicked Elizabeth really hard when she was inside her womb. I'm sure mine will do the same."

"He doesn't kick to much." Penny said, which was true. "He's very calm so far. I'm sure later he'll kick though. But it's okay. Plus, Rue had to share room with Kisa and Mateo. This little one gets all of the room to himself." She giggled and Steve chuckled.

"I love you." Steve sighed in content, running his lips across her bump now. He kissed there sweetly and when Penny let out a soft, breathy moan, Steve smirked. He kissed lower, before slowly undoing the button of her jeans. He looked up at her through his lashes and Penny whimpered.

"You in the mood sweetheart?" Steve asked softly, slowly pulling the jeans off.

"Fuck yes." Penny fell back into the pillows as he started to touch her against her lacey lingerie.

"How do you want me to be tonight?" Steve whispered against her baby bump, kissing the mounded skin sweetly. "Demanding, sweet, loving, harsh? I don't know how you're body is feeling today so I need you to tell me."

"I want. . . a mix of sweet and demanding." Penny whispered. "I want to follow your orders, but I also need the motions to be. . . gentle today."

"Good girl. You're so good for me." Steve hummed, kissing up her thigh now, before licking a stripe through her pulsing cunt. She whined right then and there, already turned on immensely. "Oh Steve!"

"Yes, moan my name cookie." Steve mumbled against her pussy, nipping at her clit now, his large hands clenched tightly on her thighs. "I want to hear you scream when you let go now, okay? I want you to scream my name so loudly that Sammy can hear you from the roof and Bruce can hear you from the lab. Scream cookie."

His fingers pushed into her pussy, curling on her g-spot almost instantly and she arched off the bed, screaming his name till her voice felt hoarse. Black spots danced in front of her eyes and she collapsed back down on the bed, panting.

Steve hovered over her, his face amused. "Oh sweetheart. I haven't even touched you with my cock yet. If that's how you react with my fingers. . . oh cookie."

Penelope whimpered, reaching for Steve with her hands, "Please Captain? I want you inside of me."

Steve teased her clit a little longer between her fingers before he lifted her hips up. "Yes, I want to be inside of you too sweetheart. God you have such a pretty pussy. She feels like silk around me." He pushed inside, groaning, tossing his head back. "Oh you're so perfect."

"Yes." Penny sighed in pleasure, closing her eyes, tilting her head against the pillow. "Oh Stevie, that feels so so good."

"Good." Steve whispered sweetly, laying over her a little more, causing a little more pleasure. "I'm gonna roll over now, okay?"

Penny hummed and Steve rolled over so that she was now over him, sinking down on his cock a little more. Steve grabbed fistfuls of each cheek, squeezing, massaging, then spanking her a little bit. "You're gonna let me know if I spank you to hard, right cookie?" Steve asked, breathless as he continued to cup and clap her cheeks.

"Of course daddy." Penny moaned out without thinking.

Steve slapped her ass a little harder, "Daddy huh?"

Penny looked down and blushed heavily. "I- Tony-"

"No, no, don't make excuses." Steve smirked now. "It's been a while since someones called me daddy in bed." He thrusted a little harder now and Penny moaned loudly at the pleasurable feeling. "And I am gonna be a daddy aren't I? Oh yes, you can call me that again. Go on, scream it." Steve's eyes twinkled with mischief.

Steve rocked her against his hips and Penny moaned as his length stretched her walls different ways as she was rocked against him. "Oh fuck! Fuck! St- Daddy!" She collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily as her body spasmed over his.

"Oh fuck." Steve shouted, cock twitching inside of her at the nickname. "Shit cookie. Oh!" He spilled into her almost immediately, burying his face in her neck.

The two of them recovered after a moment and Steve groaned, lifting her off of him slowly. "Shit sweetheart, did I hurt you?" He asked, touching her burning ass. "Shit!" he sat up, looking panicked.

Penny quickly grabbed his arm. "It felt amazing Steve. It didn't hurt at all, I swear. I loved it."

Steve relaxed, dipping down to capture her lips. She kissed back fiercely, wishing she had more strength to take control of the kiss. Steve pulled away slowly. "Do you want me to run you a bath or do you just want me to grab you a washcloth?"

"Washcloth." Penny mumbled, snuggling against him, wrapping her limbs around him like an octopus. "Already sleepy."

"Sleep cookie." Steve kissed the side of her head and smiled as she fell asleep.

🐾😨 ℙσ𝐯 ᑕħ𝒶ⓝＧє 🔬🥘

"Hey Elijah?" Elizabeth asked quietly. He paused, not having seen her where she was sitting, looking out the window of her bedroom at New York. He walked over to where she was, sitting down next to her.

"Yes, Milady?"

"The others are all pregnant, right?" She asked, looking over at him now. "Like, they got pregnant at the same time?"

"Yes. Loki and Thor did a fertility spell. I guess it was only supposed to be for Trang but. . . well I'm not sure how it traveled. But yes, everyone is pregnant from it." Elijah said. He smiled a little. "Natasha is probably happiest of them all. She couldn't have kids before."

Elizabeth nodded and then asked, "Was this before I died?"

He sucked in his breath and then said slowly, "Yes. Yes, they conceived before. . . but they didn't find out until a few weeks ago."

"That's why I'm not pregnant." Elizabeth sighed. "I lost my baby when I died, didn't I?"

"We don't know that you were pregnant." Elijah said. "There is always a-"

"Don't lie." Elizabeth sighed. "Every woman in this building is pregnant, even ones that couldn't have children because their reproductive organs were taken out, or had their tubes tied like Sharon."

Elijah blinked, "Run that last bit by me again? You know Sharon?"

"No her name was in the book. I don't really know who she is though." Elizabeth responded.

"Ah, you've been reading Ghaida's book." He murmured.

"Yeah. It's interesting." Elizabeth shrugged. She was quiet for a moment and then said, "So I had to be. Whose child was he?"

Elijah sighed, "Do you really want to know?"

"I have to." Elizabeth said.

"I don't know." Elijah said. "But Viden knows. . . if you ask him. If you really want to know. But Elizabeth. . . if you look into this. . . you're going to be upset. And make sure before you ask that you know you can handle the answer."

Elizabeth's eyes flashed- not the golden colour that Ghaida's did- but a lime green colour. And then the tears started to spill.

🐉🤼‍♂️ ⓅỖ𝐯 𝓒ⓗᗩｎｇє ⭕️🩹

Penelope was a little sore when she sat down and ate her dinner. Steve kept smirking when she would occasionally shift around in her seat. She kept playfully glaring at him.

Elijah seemed upset over something, looking down at his food and not really eating it. She wished that she could comfort him, but no one was interacting with him as he had asked not to be. So she wouldn't push his boundaries.

Sam and Bucky were on one side of the dinner table, laughing with Clint and Rhodey as they drank and told jokes.

Elizabeth suddenly came in, making a beeline straight for Sam. She just climbed on his lap, burying her face into his shirt, and burst into quiet tears. Everyone stared at her in surprise. Penny wasn't sure that she had seen Elizabeth with anyone so affectionately before since the. . . accident except for Elijah. Oh and Bucky one day but she hadn't been well that day.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" Sam asked, trying to pull her back a little to see her face.

"I'm sorry." She hiccupped softly, but wouldn't lift her head.

Everyone then looked, bewildered, at Elijah. Penny saw he just looked even more depressed than before, glumly just staring at Elizabeth's back. He caught Penny's eye and sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"She asked Viden whose child she was pregnant with before she died." Elijah whispered quietly, as though hoping Elizabeth wouldn't hear.

Steve got up, moving over to put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Twins." Elijah muttered. "One each."

Penny didn't look over at the super soldiers, not wanting to see any of their pain on their faces. But she couldn't help it, and peaked. Sam, Bucky, and Steve all looked like their hearts had just broken, and they probably had.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth whimpered again.

Sam stood up, carrying her in his arms and the four of them left the room. Penny got up too and went over to Elijah. She put her hand lightly on top of his. He turned his hand upwards to lace their fingers together, but didn't look at her.

"Are you okay?"

"I feel helpless." He sighed. "I can't do anything to help her. I can't. . . I don't know. I can't reverse time."

"How'd she find out anyways?" Penny asked.

"She just put two and two together. Everyone being pregnant including Natasha meant she should've been pregnant. But the date was before the death. . . so she kind've knew. And now she's also connected to Viden so. . . " Elijah shrugged. He glanced over at her, "Do you want to stay in my room tonight?"

Penny smiled a little. "Sure."

He led her to a different room that was very clearly Elijah's. Posters of different parts of Hong Kong, glass frames that held different bird feathers- each one clearly labelled. There was a small bookcase that had mostly bird books on it, also small figurines of carved birds. There was a pair of binoculars on the shelf, along with two different kinds of cameras.

There was a map of the world up against another wall, different coloured push pins in it, with small labels of which birds he hadn't seen yet and where they were. There was a large binder that was open to a page. There were polaroid pictures in it, of birds he had caught in the wild. There were also sketch books lined neatly in a box, loose scraps of paper showing pencil drawings of birds.

Penny looked over at Elijah. The slightly awkward way of which he was standing, as though waiting for a judgment call meant that she was probably one of the few people to ever be in his room.

"So you like birds?" Penny teased, carefully turning a page in the binder. There was a small journal beside it, listing all sorts of attributes for different birds. What they ate, scientific names, where they lived, what their nests looked like, their predators, their different colours, even strange put together words for what their different calls sounded like.

"I love them. Have, ever since I was a little boy." Elijah said quietly. "There's something about being in the sky, being free. Without being in an airplane or an Iron man suit. I sort've get to experience it. Mai did, Elizabeth can sort've, Katya and Sam also sort've. But Lan. . . Lan had it. His descriptions were amazing, the way he described flying. Sometimes. . . I wish I could fly like that."

Penny looked over at him, "Do you ever wish that you could just. . . fly away?"

Elijah looked up at the ceiling and Penny glanced up. The ceiling had been painted to look almost 3-D. With blue sky and white fluffy clouds that looked as though you could actually go behind them. "Steve did them." Elijah said when he saw Penny had looked up too. "For me." He sat down on his bed.

"There were times I did wish I could fly away from everything. But it wouldn't solve anything." Elijah said. "And are things difficult now? Yes. But weren't they always? Yes. And do I love the people closest to me enough that I wouldn't fly even if I could? Yes."

He lifted his shirt up over his head, tossing it in the hamper. It was the second time that Penny had seen him bare and she looked at the cheetah tattoo that was sprawled across his chest. He touched it unconsciously. "I love her, you know. More than anything in the world. She's so. . . confused. And hurt. She can't understand her emotions and even when she does she doesn't know why she feels a certain way. And I can't help her. Not really."

"Are you. . . upset that she's turned to others?"

"No." Elijah said firmly. "But I'm upset that she doesn't understand that things that happen to her, aren't her fault. That losing the twins in her wasn't her fault. She had no idea she was pregnant, had no idea she was going to die. I should've kept her home. I should've. . ."

"How were you supposed to know?" Penny asked, sitting next to him. "She didn't know, you didn't know. The only one that would know is Ghaida and she didn't ask. She didn't think to ask. You say Elizabeth shouldn't blame herself, but neither should you."

"I'm supposed to protect her."

"You're supposed to love her." Penny corrected. "But you can't shelter her every step of the way either."

Elijah was quiet for a moment and then said, "It didn't stop there. Her asking Viden about what she lost. She asked about her past. Kept asking and asking. She found out about the rapes and she's just. . ." He broke. Sobbing into his hands.

Penny pulled him into her, letting him cry into her. "I can't. . . I don't know how to do this! It wasn't supposed to be me!"

"It's okay." Penny whispered softly, both startled and sad as he cried in her arms. Even when he lost his best friends, lost Elizabeth, he hadn't broken down like this. His tears had been stoic, had been silent. Now he was like a child, unable to stop the waterfall. "It's okay."

"I'm not supposed to be alive." Elijah sobbed. "It was supposed to be Lan. It was. . . "

Penny hugged him tightly, just holding him until he'd worn himself out. When he had, he sat up, clearing his throat, scooching off the bed and going to the bathroom. When he came back, she saw he had washed his face with a washcloth.

He cleared his throat again, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize." Penny said softly, reaching out hesitantly to touch the ends of his hair. He leaned into her touch and she cupped his face, "Elijah, you're human. You're allowed to feel this way, you're allowed to show your emotions this way."

"I'm supposed to be a man." Elijah sighed. "The strong one. How can I be that, do that, when I break down like that? That's not who I am, human or not."

Penny smiled a little in understanding. "It shows you care about her. It shows that you do love her more than anyone else in your life. It's okay Elijah, I'm not going to judge you or think less of you because you showed emotions."

Elijah looked at her then, "You know that when I say I love Elizabeth more than anything in the world, I still love you too right? It doesn't mean-"

"Elijah." Penny put her hand over his. "I know that. We can't love everyone equally, we're always going to have favorites. I mean. . . okay don't tell them I said this but I love both Violetta and Katya. . . but I love Violetta more. But I still love Katya, you know?"

"Exactly." Elijah said softly and then started to smirk, "I know who you love the most though."

"Who?" Penny said, smirking because he was never going to guess it. The one she loved the most, the one at the top of her list was someone she almost never got to sleep with. But she loved him the most.

"Rhodey." Elijah smirked, opening his eyes to see the stunned look on her face, "Am I right?"

"H-how- no way- how did you-" Penny blushed bright red.

Elijah chuckled, "I admit, it was a bit surprising considering the two of you don't interact to much. But I have a few guesses. One, I think he reminds you of the character that your father has. Some of the same personality traits. Two, he's extremely sweet. He's really your ideal lover based on your type. And three, you're attracted to African American men first. So him, Sam, Heimdall, and T'Challa are all at the top of your list. And I bet if you'd known Josh a little longer he would have climbed up there as well."

Penny's face was burning as he said all of this and she covered her face with her hands, "Oh God, am I really that obvious?"

"No. I don't think Rhodey knows, whether that's good or bad news to you. I'm just extremely observant." Elijah said. He paused and then added, "I also went to college for psychology so there's that."

Penny laughed nervously. "I just, I did think it was a little weird, loving Rhodey the most when I barely interacted with him."

"You're not weird, it's not weird." Elijah reassured her, turning off the light and covering both of them with the sheets. "And listen, if you want more time with Rhodey, his Wednesdays and Sundays are always free. I can even help you out."

Penny buried her face into his chest. "What if he doesn't like me like that though?"

Elijah snorted, "Then he's a dumbass."

"I think he likes Elizabeth better." Penny said uncertainly.

"So? Who cares?" Elijah asked and then chuckled, "It's not like he's your only man Penelope. But if it makes you feel any better, he really does like you. He has been looking for more time to spend with you, he just has been busy with the army. Same with Stephen and the Sanctorum. Want my advice? Tomorrow is Wednesday, so spend it with Rhodey. And when Stephen gets back from his mission, go spend some time with him. I think you'll feel better about everything."

"You should be a psychologist." Penny muttered.

"Good to know." Elijah laughed, putting his arm around her, holding her to him. "Goodnight sunshine."

"Good night hotstuff." Penny smirked into his chest.

"Oh you're definitely paying for that nickname later." Elijah whispered and Penny shivered as she fell asleep.

🫕🦷 ᑭ𝑜𝕍 ｃĦ𝔸ηĞⒺ 🛫🩺

Sams' heart was hurting. A lot.

He, Steve, and Bucky had retired back to Steve's room- which at this point was basically all three of them room- and he was rocking back and forth with Elizabeth in his arms. She wasn't exactly sobbing, though sometimes as she tried to speak, the crying would make it incomprehensible to hear her through her hics.

"Sugar." He whispered softly, "Sugar please look at me."

Elizabeth looked at him with watery eyes. Steve and Bucky sat on either side of him, both looking lost and concerned. Neither of them knowing how to help.

"Please tell me why you're so upset." Sam whispered. He could understand, to an extent. That she had been pregnant with twins. One his, one Buckys. But to apologize to him? And it wasn't like it was her fault she had been killed. No one had known she was pregnant and she hadn't been the only one. Mai had been pregnant too, with Visions child and she was still dead.

"B-because I- I lost y- your child." Elizabeth hiccupped, not crying at the moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't- I didn't-"

"Doll." Bucky whispered softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Doll calm down. It's. . . it's not your fault. It's okay, alright? We're not mad at you because you didn't do anything. It's not like you wanted to die. And you didn't know you were pregnant."

Sam had stilled and Elizabeth was now rocking back and forth herself, looking uncertain. "B-But I lost them. I'm sorry!"

She dissolved into tears again. Sam noticed she couldn't even look at Steve and Sam gave Steve a raised eyebrow. Steve moved then, taking Elizabeth out of his arms. Steve curled Elizabeth into his chest, smoothing her hair back from his face. "I'm sorry." Elizabeth whimpered out, covering her eyes with her fists. "I'm sorry."

"Cookie." Steve whispered softly. "Why won't you look at me?"

"I don't want you to be mad at me. I'm so sorry." Elizabeth wailed. "I didn't want to lose the children."

"God cookie, I know that." Steve said softly. "Cookie, please look at me."

Her red eyes burned his heart. He inhaled deeply and cupped her face, "You're scared of me."

She shook her head vehemently, squeezing her eyes shut.

Sam exchanged a look with Bucky, who just looked lost.

Slowly, Steve asked, "Did Ghaida's book tell you that I would be mad at you?"

Elizabeth hesitated and then nodded, "I-It- the book- it had a page about s-someone named Sharon C-Carter. And that the two of y-you were having a baby. And you were mad at h-her because she l-lost it. A-A-And I don't want you to be-be-be mad a-a-a-a-t me for l-losing J-J-James and S-s-s-Sams' kids." Her sobs were frantic so that she could barely get the last few words out.

Steve sweetly kissed her cheek slowly and said, "I will never be mad at you cookie. Sharon was different. . . she didn't lose my child, like the way you did. You didn't mean it. You didn't know you were pregnant or you would have protected them and stayed home. You didn't mean to die and lose them. Yours was an accident. But Sharon's was on purpose."

"She killed her child?" Elizabeth's eyes went round with fear, shrinking down a little.

"Not in the way you're probably thinking." Bucky said quickly. "The child wasn't born yet, she was still in Sharon's womb. But there's this thing now that's called abortion. And it's where a woman can go in and the doctor will. . . well I'll skip the gruesome parts, but ultimately it kills the baby inside."

Elizabeth's eyes startled the three of them as they went from brown to a flat lime green. She said softly, "Planned Parenthood was a clinic established in black communities by Margaret Singer in 1916 in New York as part of the Ku Klux Klan to try and stop the black population from growing. Abortion is considered healthcare and is pushed by Feminists to encourage women to climb the corporate ladder." She blinked, her eyes returning to brown.

"Sounds about right." Sam muttered darkly.

"Why do your eyes turn green?" Bucky asked in interest, hoping to turn conversation to a lighter topic. And also if Elizabeth was distracted, she wouldn't be upset anymore.

"Viden said that every human has an aurora around them that we can't see." Elizabeth said, Buckys' wishes coming true as she was almost smiling now. "And that aurora would be our scent if we could do magic. And my scent is lime, so my eyes turn the colour of limes. Ghaida's eyes turn gold because her scent is oranges."

"Interesting." Steve looked dumbstruck. "Although I don't understand the magic part."

"It's based on a book series called The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel. Or really, the author got the idea from Viden. He was. . . an auraling." Elizabeth said softly, eyes fluttering as she started to feel fatigued. All of the crying had clearly tuckered her out.

"Do you want to stay with us tonight?" Steve asked softly.

Elizabeth hesitated, hands clutching the front of Steve's shirt, "You're not. . . you're not-"

"I know this could be to soon." Steve whispered softly, cupping her cheek, "Maybe I shouldn't be saying this, maybe it's to soon, maybe I'll scare you away. . . but I'm not mad Elizabeth. I. . . I love you. And I know that you barely know me, I get that. But you're so sweet and I know your past self and I know you're beating yourself up over something you can't control, something that you can't blame yourself before. And I want to reassure you that I will never be mad at you, never hate you, because I love you."

Bucky's eyes were wide behind Elizabeth's back and Sam had frozen like a deer in headlights. Steve's heart immediately started pounding in his chest at their reactions. He felt that he had said the wrong thing now.

Slowly, Elizabeth whispered, "I liked hearing you say that. It made me. . . happy."

Steve relaxed, feeling like he'd just had a rush and now he had come down from it. He tilted her chin towards him. "Doll, may I kiss you?"

Elizabeth didn't answer, leaning forwards and kissing him first, her eyes closed. He kissed her gently, tasting lime on her lips and he nearly chuckled. He pulled away slowly, not wanting to overwhelm or push her.

"I- I think I love you too." Elizabeth whispered, though she looked uncertain. "But I- I'm not sure about my emotions. I don't always. . ."

"It's okay." Steve interrupted calmly. "You don't have to worry about that cookie. Just let me love you and if you ever feel the same, then you can let me know. But you don't have to push it. I don't ever want to make you unhappy."

Elizabeth slowly got off of him, looking at Bucky. "Can I- May I kiss. . . you?"

"Of course doll." Bucky smiled, gently cupping her cheek. Steve relaxed into the pillows as they both kissed. Bucky sucked on her bottom lip a little, before releasing her and she looked a little dazed as she pulled away.

Elizabeth turned to Sam, blushing now, "Sammy?"

"Yes sugar?"

"Is it okay if I. . . are you alright if I kiss you too?"

"More than alright sugar." Sam grinned, closing his eyes as he felt her soft lips against his. She kissed him a little longer than the other two, now that she was a little more confident, although she was still blushing like fire as she pulled away.

Then she climbed under the covers, clutching tightly to Steve and Sam's shirts with her hands, her leg resting against Bucky.

Steve and Sam cuddled her as Bucky got out of bed, turning off the light, and then laying down by her legs.

"Good night Sugar."

"Good night Sammy. Good night James. Good night Stevie." Elizabeth mumbled sleepily.

"Good night doll." Bucky and Steve replied together, and then the four of them fell asleep.