#12 days of winter year 6 masterlist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mntalbrakdown · 2 years ago

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pocket size - P. Hynes White

masterlist

mentions of: height? idk let me know if you find any!

synopsis: percy liked that you are shorter than him

a/n: i’m no longer writing for him so plz no hate!!!!

12 inches. a whole foot shorter. you were 5”2 and Percy was 6”2. he liked how he could tower you. he liked the way you would have to look up at him. he especially appreciated when it was sunny outside because you would have to look up and the sun would catch your eyes making you scrunch your face. he also enjoyed how your hands would be wayyyy smaller than his. but out of all these things, his favorite thing about how short you were was putting his head on top of yours and wrapping his hands around your waist.

You and Percy have been dating for a year. you bumped into him in a pharmacy, trying to develop your film. Percy was waiting next to you holding his camera and you with yours.

“you take pictures” he tries to start a conversation with a girl he found attractive

“yeah, just started with this, I have an actual camera,” you say smiling weakly

“I think you should keep using a disposable camera so we could bump into one another more often,” he says trying to secure a date with you

“or you could just ask for my number�� a date you wanted

“would Instagram be included in that bundle” he tried to stalk you, he tried to find out who you were as a person

“or maybe on the other hand I actually don’t have a number” you try to joke

“no don’t be like that” he’s a little flustered now

a few days later after that interaction, you were on a date. after that date led to more dates than asking for you to be his officially. it was nice to have someone to call yours and be excited to hang out with whenever possible.

—-

“ready to head out,” Percy says wrapping his hands around your waist as you’re putting on the final touches of your makeup and hair

“yeah, one second,” you say putting on some perfume that Percy got you during his time in Romania. it was vanilla-scented. your favorite

you were ready to go out on your date. the date was a dinner and you wanted to bet Percy that he was going to move your seat next to his to be able to sit next to you.

right, when you were seated across from each other Percy gets up and moves his chair in the middle asking you to do the same and you did. the thing is that you thought that the distance between the two of you was perfect, but in Percy's eyes he thought differently, he scooted your chair so his practically touched. the whole night after was him with his arm around your shoulder or his hand lying on your thigh.

—-

during car rides, Percy likes to put his hand on your lap. squeezing it and making his fingers dance around. when it was summer he liked how you would dangle your head out the window. how your hair would dance in the wind.

he also liked how in the winter you would bundle up and wear his hoodies because they were so warm but you secretly liked the smell of them. he liked that you would wear the hood and sit on the car seat with yours legs held to your chest because you were so cold.

—-

he never cared about the arts really until he met you. he liked being able to take pictures of you in his bed in a small form but never liked actually making the art. he never learned from the lessons that Netflix made him do.

he liked how you would look when putting your head on his bicep. while you would observe the art. he would have you wrapped around his arms. his head on top of yours. you would talk about all the details of the painting and he would listen nodding and humming in amusement.

one thing the two of you had in common was liking films. every Tuesday heading to the closest AMC theatre. you would watch films and analyze them together afterward.

the theatre had reclining seats and you could move the middle cup holder up so the both of you could cuddle together. and that’s what you did.

every film no matters if it was scary or not you would lie on his chest while he wrapped his arms around you. (the same way you both slept) you liked the way his heart would beat speed up when he would look down on you. you could tell because his head would move around. and you could tell his shit-eating grin was on his face once again.

of course, afterward, you would talk about the film going back to your shared place. he would laugh at your theories of the film. he would play your theories in his head on the way to sleep and they would always make sense.

—-

he also liked baking with you. he liked how you would move around a lot and get the batter on your face somehow. he liked that you had your hair back in a messy style and would have an apron on. sleeves rolled up ready to take on whatever you were doing

“perc! I need your help” you yelled and saw him resting his body on the wall that splits your living room from the kitchen

“what do you need my highness” he bows down

“I need you to get me the pink bowl on the top right cabinet” you point to the thing causing your pissed-off state.

you never understood why he never got you a stool. maybe he liked being of help and being able to be in your bubble while you bake. because he never once got in the way of your work.

he never once let you put the pan into the oven because he was scared you would burn yourself. which never happened when you were on your own.

“why can’t I do it,” you ask feeling like all the work he has done

“don’t want you to get burnt,” he says opening the oven and putting in the pan

“there are mittens for a reason, y’know they aren’t decorations”

“but you look so pretty all healthy and smooth,” he says getting the brown batter from your nose and licking his finger clean

he liked cleaning up with you. playing with bubbles and splashing you with water. he grew in love with your face, he grew to be able to read your facial expressions. enough being said he could read how pissed you were but he knew to not mess around anymore.

waiting for the pastry was enjoyable. he liked waiting on the couch with you. you were in between his legs and your head rested on his chest. you would scroll on your phone and Percy would watch. when the pastry was ready you both would always burn yourselves it was like you never learned. and you would both laugh at each other. but it was enjoyable and you both would finish it in a day.

—-

the get-together was at his place. it was strictly just the cast. they slowly started to pile in through the door. he was excited to be reunited with them. he found the friends that he loved. and you were happy for him. as he greeted everyone he was ready to sit down on the couch and you were close behind. he was holding your hand guiding you to your seat.

another thing Percy was extremely mad about was you sitting on his lap. no matter if there was plenty of space everywhere else. he loved sitting with you. he especially did this when you were laying on the couch watching some TikToks and he would make you get up and lay on top of him. it would make you go crazy and not in a good way. but it made him happy so you let it slide.

“so how long have you two dated” hunter asked

“About two years,” Percy says playing with your hair. twisting it and fiddling with it between his two fingers

Emma was trying to get your attention. she thought you were interesting. she liked the way you probably have a lot to say but just keep to yourself. she knew deep down you were funny because well you were dating Percy.

“what’s something that Percy has done here that no one else knows about,” Emma asks looking directly at you. you start laughing at the thought

“no-“ Percy says trying to hold you from saying it

“he…he sings t swift when he’s bored” Percy tried to cover your mouth before you finished the sentence, but it was too late because what you said was out and everyone was laughing

“so- uh- so who wants to play uno” Percy says trying to move the conversation

wanting to get the Uno cards that were under the coffee table. in a red tin box that once contained chocolates, Percy got you for valentines day. once you got it you were walking to his kitchen. all the seats were taken and Percy put you on his lap. he shuffled the cards and something about that no matter who did it, was attractive. Percy however liked the way your hands made the Uno cards look humongous while he made them look tiny.

“Are you both teaming?” Jenna asked

“should we” Percy whispers in your ear sending butterflies straight to your stomach

“Sure,” you say kissing his cheek and everyone started teaming up.

halfway through the game, Percy has half the deck with him.

“I should've never teamed with you” you laugh at just seeing the cards

“I’ll make us win don’t worry” he had his eyes wide like he was determined. and that he was because he always kept his promises to you.

and by the end of the night you both did. he liked the way your eyes would sparkle with joy that only lit up with winning. how you would wrap your hands around him and laugh.

—-

one thing Percy hated was high heels. it was like they were enemies. you never understood it. it wasn’t like you would get whiny about the heels hurting you. in fact it was the opposite. you would run dance jump all of it and all Percy’s face was saying is how much he hated those things giving you height.

he liked that you would have to tip-toe for him but those were easy access they took one of his favorite things about you. and if he could he would destroy them all.

he liked that at the end of the day, you would dress in his clothes to go to bed. it was practically a nightgown for you. he liked how you would clean your face and make sure you felt clean. he liked the way you would be ready to go to bed and not even act like you didn’t want to be by him. because you did you wanted him to wrap his arms around you because it is reassuring and comforting. and wake up in that same form in the morning.

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hellishjoel · 11 months ago

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12 Days of Pedro | Masterlist

Authors Note Hello and welcome to 12 Days of Pedro! I'm incredibly lucky to host a wonderful collection of works by such talented and sweet authors. We will be posting fics and moodboards, all linked on this masterlist! To the authors participating, thank you from the bottom of my heart, putting this together meant the world to me! Getting to hear all of your excitement and ideas really put me in the spirit! To the readers, these fics will be holiday/christmas/winter themed, all posted on the original authors account. Please show them support and love! Come back every day to open a new present (fic!)

Thank you to @undercoverpena for creating this wonderful masterlist image and thank you @saradika-graphics for the banner!

Day 1 (December 11) - new year's day by @hellishjoel Day 2 (December 12) - decorating the tree with dieter by @wildemaven Day 3 (December 13) - white christmas by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin Day 4 (December 14) - when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home by @joelsgreys Day 5 (December 15) - under the mistletoe by @beskarandblasters Day 6 (December 16) - baby, it's cold outside by @thetriumphantpanda Day 7 (December 17) - snowmen and sledding by @wildemaven Day 8 (December 18) - you're a mean one, mr. miller by @cupofjoel Day 9 (December 19) - make me like the holidays by @undercoverpena Day 10 (December 20) - let it snow by @kiwisbell Day 11 (December 21) - ásjá by @perotovar Day 12 (December 22) - naughty or spice by @morallyinept

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forlix · 1 year ago

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‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

— eight winter-themed fics for each member of stray kids written by myself (@forlix) and my sahar (@astraystayyh)! alternatively titled dead dick december lmfaooo

— important notes :

6/8 completed; last updated 3/19/24

no specific holidays are mentioned by name

gendered pronouns used only in chan's, minho's, and han's fics

minors & ageless blogs please dni w/ han's fic as it is nsfw

fics will be posted between dec. 2023 and mar. 2024

. . . also, we will be opening a taglist for this series! send me or sahar an ask or reply to either of our masterlists if you'd like to be added ♡ (minors and ageless blogs will not be tagged in han's)

pieces of you・bang chan・@astraystayyh・8.7k ⤷ single dad!chan, neighbors!au, fluff, angst, slow burn. posted 2/12/24.

in which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. alternatively, chan and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's suddenly no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

something has melted・lee minho・@forlix ⤷ spy x family!au, fake dating!au, fluff

your obnoxious coworkers never get off your ass about how single you are, and your temporary husband is too happy to make them eat their words.

burning in the winter wind・seo changbin・@astraystayyh・4.4k ⤷ (fake) enemies to lovers, college!au, hurt/comfort. posted 2/26/24.

sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. especially when seo changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you—the one man you can never get a read on.

the snow falls, we fall apart・hwang hyunjin・@astraystayyh ⤷ roommates!au, friends to lovers, slow burn, hurt/comfort. posted 3/19/24.

when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

(18+) empty my mind・han jisung・@forlix・6.4k ⤷ friends with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. posted 1/6/24.

stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.

everything has changed (besides myself)・lee felix・@forlix・5.4k ⤷ babysitter!au, exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. posted 12/9/23.

you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

warm winter・kim seungmin・@forlix ⤷ established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff

"i don't deserve you," he breathes, "but god, i want to."

please fall before i fall・yang jeongin・@astraystayyh・2.8k ⤷ childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, hint of unrequited love (they're idiots). posted 1/18/24.

three times you saved jeongin's ass and the one time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way).

#thank you to the best songwriter of our generation (aka han jisung) for these titles #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #*writing #SO EXCITED FOR THIS :")

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buckrecs · 2 years ago

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2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 3

masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - completed

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

1. Galavano by @ichorai

Bucky x Reader

a series that follows the hero galvano through the events of the mcu!

2. Time (D)rift by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Dark!Bucky x Reader Apocalypse AU

The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own.

3. Uncontrollable by @fictional-affairs

Bucky x Widow!Reader

The year is 1992. The Winter Soldier is under HYDRA’s control, and the Red Widow is under Dreykov’s control, but when they find out their organizations are working together to have them kill each other, they decide to make a deal.

4. The Lake House by @rustytricycle

Dark!Bucky x Dark!Reader

You decide to spend the summer before Freshman year of college with two of your girlfriends at one of their parents’ lake house. It turns out that Captain America and his two best friends are staying next door. Bucky thinks you might be his perfect girl. But are you too perfect?

5. turn a blind eye by @sergeantxrogers

Bucky x Reader

The Winter Soldier was cold. Brutal. Unflinching. A machine formulated to comply. Bucky Barnes was the sun warming your skin, your happy pill. Loving him was like bittersweet liquor, sickeningly sweet when you sip, harsh and burning when you swallow.

6. Rooftop Sessions by @forever-rogue

Bucky x Therapist!Reader

Y/N is a therapist that works with war veterans that ends up meeting a mysterious stranger who asks for her help.

7. it’s all fun and games, until you catch feelings by @prettyyoungtragedy

Bucky x Reader

You’re pining after Steve and Bucky is pining after Nat, what better way to distract yourself from those two perfect humans than to distract yourselves with each other?! Fuck buddies it is then.

8. oh my delightful heart by @prettyyoungtragedy

Sequel to it’s all fun and games

Bucky Barnes is the sweetest dumbest most adoring boyfriend any girl could ever ask for...

9. Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel ✨

Bucky x Reader

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

10. The Maid of Mr. Barnes by @disasterofastory

Mob!Bucky x Reader

You get a job as Mr. Barnes's maid. You heard about the notorious gangster, but since you desperately need money and a place to live, you are not in a position to be picky.

11. Guiding Light by @wkemeup ✨

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.

12. Home | Better by @softlyspector ✨

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Bucky comes home from his second tour overseas, after a long time away from the reader.

13. Mad For You by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Nat hosts a costume masquerade. Bucky meets the Alice to his Hatter. Shenanigans ensue.

14. Sanguis Sanguinis Mei by @captainscanadian

Vampire!Bucky x Vampire!Reader

It took Bucky Barnes two centuries with the blood of his blood to realize how much he loved her. This is their story.

15. Another World by @sinner-as-saint

Alien!Bucky x Reader

In a futuristic world - a millennium from now, you and your team rescue and care for stranded and hurt otherworldly beings; who are held captive and kept on Earth against their wills. You save them from the bad guys who exploit them. You help them adjust to your planet’s life, and give them their freedom back. Then one day, while on a rescue mission, you come across a human-like extraterrestrial being; in a cryogenic chamber, with a missing arm. And nothing is ever the same again…

16. Picking Up The Pieces by @gogolucky13

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Bucky chooses to stay in his tumultuous relationship knowing you’ll be there to pick up the pieces, until finally you’re not.

17. Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes ✨

Knight!Alpha!Bucky x Queen!Omega!Reader

For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home. One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.

18. The Escaped Bride by @marvelouslytrekking

Pirate!Bucky x Reader

Being forced to marry someone was not something you wanted, but when it turns out that it is to your best friend, who you secretly loved, things weren’t so bad. Unfortunately, good things don’t seem to last and when the worst happens, you refuse to sit around and be miserable. Will you find true love again, or will your life be turned upside down?

19. Plot Twist by @winterarmyy

Mafia!Bucky x Reader

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

20. The Road Goes Ever On and On by @rocketrhap3000 ✨

Bucky x Single Mom!Reader

Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks.

21. you’re my desire by @marvelouslizzie & @notafunkiller

40s!Bucky x Reader

Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers’ date but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes’ arms.

22. Death Do Us Part by @sgtjbuccky ✨

God Of Death!Bucky x Mortal!Reader

For centuries, the God of Death had known two things about mortals. One, they were his job, his to collect when their days came to an end, and two, they were obnoxiously odd beings. Their purpose ceased to make sense to him. Never did he understand why they created a life for themselves, why they loved, why they loved other mortals when they knew that none of it would last forever. It was nothing but sheer stupidity, but that was until he met you. A mortal unlike any other. A mortal that would make him question everything. A mortal that would teach the God of Death how to live.

23. Lost In Each Other by @majestyeverlasting ✨

Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader

For Bucky, one of the best things to come home to is family. Especially after a day at work. So he's pleasantly surprised when you want to show him a new dress after dinner one night. And it just so happens that little Eden and Jamie find a way to work themselves into the equation. But it all makes for good fun and memories you will never forget.

24. Fight For Me by @littleseasiren

Bucky x Reader

After years in an abusive relationship, you finally get out. When the Avengers decide to raise awareness for your Battered Women's Home, you bump into Bucky Barnes, the hottest, most complicated man you've ever met. He thinks you're too good for him, but when your abusive ex reappears, Bucky knows he has to keep you safe - by any means necessary.

25. call me baby by @cherryrogers ✨

Biker!Bucky x Reader

Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

26. Static Verse by @theconstantsidekick ✨

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader

Tony Stark's sister's a fucking badass, codename—Static. Here's her story through the MCU.

27. Bygone by @borntobewondering

Bucky x Reader

You and Peter get sent back in time, and you fall in love with someone unexpected.

28. Clockwork by @aries-writingblog ✨

Bucky x Reader

Bucky has moved on. He’s found a place in the new world of the 21st Century. Found peace. But the past is always half a step behind him, waiting to snatch him backwards- like clockwork.

29. Deny the truth, set the world on fire by @lizatill

Bucky x Reader, Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader

He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember.

30. Carnations by @viollettes

Bucky x Reader College AU

It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?

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surielstea · 2 months ago

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Sureilstea: Eris Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 1, 9/8: Bonds or Bargains

Ensnaring Marks | Eris x Fem!Reader

-> In which Eris traps Reader into a bargain over her families peace and her freedom. (Enemies to Lovers)

Day 2, 9/9: Childhood or Legacy

Puppy Love | Eris x WinterCourt!Reader

-> In which the Winter Court Princess teaches a seventeen year old Eris how to hunt game during winter months. (Fluff)

Day 3, 9/10: Healing or Betrayal

Life Debts | Eris x Healer!Reader

-> In which Eris gets injured on the battlefield and his personal, overworked healer must tend to his wounds. (Fluff, slight angst, smut)

Day 4, 9/11: Tradition or Hounds

-> Hounded by Love| Eris x Fem!Reader

In which Reader overcomes her fear of large dogs with Eris at her side. (Fluff)

Day 5, 9/12: War or Adventure

Nobody’s Soldier | Eris x Lieutenant!Reader

-> In which Reader and Eris spend their night before the war together going over battle plans, and distracting themselves from the bloodshed with other tactics. (Slight angst, Smut)

Day 6, 9/13: AU or Retellings

Bloody Besottedness | Vampire!Eris x Human!Reader

-> In which Eris and Reader are trapped together in a house during a blood shortage, and reader is the only source of blood around. (Fluff, slight smut, vampire AU)

Day 7, 9/14: Free Day

Move me, Baby | Eris x Fem!Reader

-> In which the newly weds dance and slowly fall in love with the music, and the movements of each other. (Arranged Marriage, smut)

Comment a “🧡” if you’d like to be added to the Eris Week taglist.

Or comment a specific title you’d like to be tagged in.

#suriels tea #acotar #fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #x reader #sarah j maas #erisweek2024 #eris x y/n #eris acosf #eris x you #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader

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misguidedasgardian · 2 years ago

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The Winter Sun (6)

6. New Gods

MASTERLIST

Summary: Are you sure this is what you want?

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoif customs, arranged marriage , AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), talks about sex, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 3.3k

Notes: I'm sorry for the delay! and I'm so happy you are liking this story! this is new territory for me

“We can have new dresses made for you”, Sara muttered happily as she gave you some of the dresses she didn’t wear anymore, luckily, you had similar physiques.

“I wouldn’t want you to spend unnecessarily for me”, you said, embarrassed, “besides, I have plenty of winter clothing, specially for riding my dragon, it will get here… eventually”

“In two months!”, she fought

“Right…”, you sad, a little embarrassed

“Let’s say… we made them, do you know how to sow?”, you nodded, “great, we will make our own dresses, I bet you know what the ladies in King’s landing are wearing this season”, she winked at you and you giggled.

It was nice having Sara, she was like the sister you never had. This morning she had come to you and you spend most of the morning dressing, fixing your dresses and now, you were starting doing your hair. She had offered to do yours and you offered to do hers

“I don’t know how to do your hair in a targaryen way”, she whispered, as she brushed your silvery strands, “those braids you were wearing when you got here, they were beautiful…”

“How do you fix your hair in the north?”, you asked, with a shine in your eyes. Sara smiled at you

“Like this…”, she made two small braids, and tie them together at the back of your hair, to put order to you hair, but still she left it free, it was simple, yet… meaningful

“Thank you Sara”, you in turn, arranged her hair with thick braids, as a Targaryen would wear, the same day you arrived. You did not know how to braid your own hair but you did know how to braid another’s.

“You look like a northerner”, Sara said happily, looking at you through the mirror, “well, almost, except for the hair”, she giggle and you did as well, you were wearing a gray dress, the color of House Stark, your jewelry, though, necklace, and rings, were all with the Targaryen heraldry, and your silver hair… It was very signature.

All the cold colors made you look almost ethereal, different from what you used to wear though, different… not precisely bad.

You hoped Cregan would like it.

Sara took your hand and led you through the Winterfell’s passages and hallways, down one floor and to the first one, and you walked to the main hall, which served as a meeting room, former throne room, and dining hall.

You heard Cregan speaking inside the room, he seemed angry, and commanding.

“If she does, the ceremony won’t be big, all the lords and ladies, the most important ones, are here. Let's do it in three days' time, with a small banquet after, we are in autumn, we can’t splurge this far into winter… besides… we don’t even know if she is sure to continue with this engagement”, and then you entered, and all those present, the maester, the master at arms, all those who worked in Winterfell, Lords and Ladies of other houses, all turned to look at you. Dressed in Stark gray, your hair arranged like a proper lady of the North.

Cregan stark looked at you wide eyed

“I see her pretty determined”, muttered the Lady Bolton, and Cregan seemed to come out of his estupor

“Your Grace… you look… fine”, he finished, and even though if it was a strange compliment, you felt nervous all the same, playing with the rings on your fingers

“Thank you my lord”

“We were discussing the ceremony”, he said, “it should be held in the next few days, although, if you want to invite people from kings landing they will take time to arrive…”

“I don’t think they will want to make the journey”, you answered sadly, “we should do as you please”, you said with a shy smile

“Maybe it’s not what you’d expect, but the celebration won’t be as great as a princess’ should be”, he said in a warning tone.

“You are right, my lord, we are too close to winter, only a few guests and one dinner should be enough to celebrate our union”, you said and he seemed genuinely surprised. But then he only nodded

“very well”

“I would like to send ravens to notify members of my family, but that is enough, one to king’s landing, one to Dragonstone and the other to Driftmark”, you said confidently

“I’ll see to it, my lady”. Said the old maester with a shy smile, you nodded and thanked him.

If he didn't want to marry you, he would have said something, right?

He was not the same man you remembered from five years ago, it was true, you didn’t expect him to be, but… he was cold… he was rough, he… looked at you like this weakling, like this rachitic pup that would not last the week

But if he didn’t want to marry you, he would have said so, right?

With that thought, they let you use the library to write your messages.

They were three of them, all three the same.

“I, princess (Y/N) of houses Targaryen and Stokeworth, will wed Lord Cregan of House Stark at the end of the week, as it pleases King Viserys, the ceremony will take place in The God’s wood, under the traditions of the Old Gods in Winterfell”, it was brief and communicative

You sealed them with your personal seal, and gave them to the maester, a nice old man with kind eyes. Maester Celwyn, was his name

All three ravens flied south, two of them flew slightly East. They took three days to arrive at their destination, at almost the same time.

The one in Dragonstone was received with a cup of wine and by the hand of Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince.

He frowned when reading the news of your own hand and letter, he would recognize it everywhere. He never showed it, but he always kept a close eye on you, no matter where he was, or what he was doing, he always had eyes on you. Maids, servants, Kingsguards. He personally, hurt by looking at you, you had his brother’s eyes, but… you were the only thing he had left of him.

So you escaped the Keep and threw yourself at the arms of Cregan Stark, it could have been worse. They could have betrothed you to that one-eyed cunt, those were his thoughts, you had successfully escaped him, but, so far? He should have betrothed you to Jace, or even Lucerys… but he had his own daughters to take care of…

Either way, he tried to recreate in his mind what his brother would have thought about this, would he approve of the union? He knew his brother held great respect for the North and its people, especially the Starks, he believed them to be the most honorable family in the realms so… perhaps…

Or the sheep had walked willingly towards the jaws of the wolf?

Were you more sheep than you were dragon?

He had yet to see that.

He drank the last of his wine in his cup and then went to find her wife, Rhaenyra, he found her with her sons in their High Valyrian lessons, she looked at them approvingly as Luke, Jace and now Joffrey learned.

“We have received a letter from the North”, he sang. Rhaenyra looked at him interested

“Really?”

“From your little cousin”

“(Y/N)?”, she asked

“She is betrothed to Stark, set to be married before the week’s end”

“To Cregan Stark?”, she asked. this caught her sons’ attention

“Our aunt is set to marry Stark?”, asked Jace, a smile on his face

“Apparently, it was the King’s idea”, he muttered

“My father can barely speak, this is the Queen’s work”, she said bitterly

“perhaps”

“She wants the North under her wing”, she said

“My niece is no Green”, he said with warning in his voice

“She is not for us either”, said Rhaenyra, “when the time comes, will she convince Cregan to support us?”, she asked.

“This is not about what is going to happen then”, cut Daemon

“Are we going?”, asked Jace, “to the ceremony?”

“We could never make it, not with the youngest”, said Daemon

“Send us, Luke and I”

“I don’t think it’s proper”, said Rhaenyra

“Don’t think it’s proper?”, asked Daemon

“Let’s just send a gift”, she suggested with a tight lip smile. And that was the end of it.

In Driftmark however, the letter went straight into Rhaenys’ hands.

She read it with kind eyes and a shy smile. The union was perfect, the Starks will protect you properly, and care for you. You had your dragon if you ever wanted to get out of the cold North, and they will make great allies.

She was certain your father would have approved of the union.

Lord Cregan Stark was an honorable man, poor man a widower, he needed someone kind hearted like you, with your shyness and your blushes and your smiles, you were going to do him good.

“Let’s send them a barrel of our finest wine”, suggested Corlys, “she is going to need as much dragonfire as she could drink, that poor girl is going to freeze up there!”, he laughed

“The wolf will keep her warm”, she said with a knowing smirk

“Or perhaps he will devour her whole”, he said back, and Rhaenys laughed as he shared knowing looks with her husband in front of the fire.

“We will send her gifts”, he said confidently.

“I have something better in mind”, she said gently, giving him a look.

Rhaenys had a very close relationship with her cousin, they were kindred spirits, and had so many things in common. Rhaenys was older than Aegon and he looked up at her when they were young he followed her around like a lost puppy, and then when they were older they became friends.

The distance was the only thing separating Rhaenys from being close to you. She had tried, unknown to you, to make you her guard, but Queen Alicent, and before her, Viserys, had gently refused her, claiming that your father would have preferred you to stay in the Keep. She knew they were wrong.

So you fled as far as you could, away from your family, up there, all alone.

And now… the third raven.

Never arrived at King's Landing, nobody knows what happened to him.

Perhaps it was fate, perhaps it was the Gods, you would have thought that it was your father himself from the heavens who intercepted the raven and made him lose his way.

If it had arrived… Perhaps you would have never married Cregan.

But it didn’t.

Only the Raven of Stark, accepting the proposal and dictating you will marry soon, that only arrived.

It was also miraculous that the letter was not intercepted by Aemond, and it arrived safely at the hands of Otto Hightower.

He smiled, pleased.

The North was his, and he didn’t even need to move a finger.

He had sent Aemond to Oldtown to see his brother, to distract him, he could not have his grandson messing this up, he could not have that. That girl was not for him, she had no allies, no money, no real connections. Nothing

He was good only to sell away, like cattle.

Your house sigil was a sheep was it not?

The Queen twisted her lips in disgust at the response of Cregan, he did not speak of you returning to King’s Landing, which meant the wolf had sunk their teeth on you and they would not let go.

If she was the one to have a dragon she would have flown it North and dragged you back, make the wolf come south to marry you, but leaving you alone there, it was improper. You went there, a young lady, alone. Perhaps the wolf had already bedded you.

It should have been Aemond

The Queen bit her nails, worried.

Her father had promised he was the one to break the news to Aemond, but it was her who lied to him, who promised him to her. And she couldn’t deliver.

Aemond wanted her so much, it scared her. She had heard of that deep infatuating Targaryen men could feel, but she never thought one of her sons could be the cruel heir to that dark inheritance.

She shook her head

She was going to find her son a nice girl to marry, an heiress from a great house, pure, and a devout follower to the Gods. She nodded, sipping on her cup of wine, that was the right path. The gods guided her North for a reason.

Days passed slowly in Winterfell, and you had barely seen Cregan.

Sara was the one to introduce you to the population of the castle, people who lived and served there.

People seemed weary of you, looking at you like the stranger you truly were to them. You had always heard that Northerners were weary of strangers, mistrustful. And it was proven to be true.

You were supposed to be the future Lady of Winterfell, their lady, how could you make them trust you?

You guessed that being kind and patient, you wanted to prove to Cregan he had made the right choice.

Also, you were distracted with something else… your things had not arrived yet, you thought they hadn't even left King’s Landing… so… Sara and you were determined to make your wedding dress and as the tradition dictates, your maiden cape.

You weren’t sure that the cape was a part of the Northerners traditions, but you hoped so.

And Sara had said that yes, you were to make one, your maiden cape, and Cregan was supposed to give you one back. A bridal cape.

You'd decided to make yours with Targaryen colors, black, red and gold. As a farewell to your house, in hopes of avoiding Aemond you had sunk yourself in embroidering lessons, so you had become quite good at it. Right now you were sewing red dragons into the black fabric. Perhaps you’d add a green one, the color of the Stokeworths

Sara and you were interrupted by a commotion outside, you didn’t quite understand what it was, until a guard reached your door, and announced you had a visitor, and you couldn’t understand who that might be.

Until you reached the main hall, and you only had to look at her back, and her hair to know who that was

“Aunt Rhaenys?”, you called eyes filled with happy tears. She turned around and smiled warmly at you

“Hello my sweet girl”, she greeted and you jumped into her embrace. She held you tightly against her, her hand caressing your back.

“You came! you didn’t have to…”

“As soon as I saw the letter”, she cradled your face in her hands as she looked at you, “someone should give you away, right?”, she said gently, and you nodded enthusiastically

“I will be honored if that person is you”, you said honestly, you loved your aunt so much… well… technically she was first cousin to your father, but it was your dear aunt.

“Let’s walk darling”, she suggested, and with an excited nod, you took her to the God’s wood, where you could be alone. She, as you did, looked around the trees and found it beautiful

“Have you been to Winterfell before?”, you asked, and she nodded

“A couple of times, many years ago”, she whispered, you nodded. you both sat by the heart tree, in one of his thick branches

“My sweet niece, are you sure this is what you want?”, she asked, and you, without even questioning, nodded enthusiastically

“I like the North, I like it here, this is what uncle Viserys had wanted”, you muttered, “the council had the idea to betrothe me to Lord Stark, and, I know him since I was ten”, you muttered, and she smiled warmly

“I’m glad, it is a good match, he will take care of you”, she said with a shy smile, arranging a wild lock of hair behind your ear

“I’m going to be happy”, you assured her, even though Cregan was not in it yet, you knew he was going to melt eventually.And she nodded, believing it

“You know what to expect, right?”, she asked, changing the subject, “of your wedding night?”, she asked then

“I’m supposed to give myself up to Cregan”, you muttered shyly, “he is supposed to give me his seed and I’m supposed to give him heirs”, she sighed

“Not the shit the Septas teach you”, she chided, and you blushed scandalously and shook your head. “The real thing…”

“I heard some maids talking about it…back in King’s Landing”

“Sex”, she said

“Sex…”, you whispered, “one of them said she had done it with a stable boy and his…”

“Penis”

“Was big and it hurt so much, he made her bleed”, you told her

“In the first time it will be blood”, she said gently, “and it will hurt, but… if he is gentle it won’t hurt that much, if he is gentle and giving it will give you great pleasure”, she explained, you nodded, not quite convinced. She leaned in and pushed you gently, making you smile, “sex is a great way to a man’s heart”, she whispered in your ear, “it will make him and most importantly, it will make you happy”, she said like it was the greatest secret of all

“sounds really nice”, you admitted, with cheeks red of embarrassment

“remember what I’m telling you”, she muttered with a complicit smile, “sex is the safest and quickest way to a man’s heart”

“Do you think he’ll… like me?”, you asked wide eyed, and worried.

“Oh honey”, she whispered, “he had no obligation to say yes, he did for a reason, and trust me, he wouldn’t have if you didn’t look like this”, she said, winking, and you smiled widely.

You both shared a comfortable minute in silence, your wedding was set to be in two days time, lords and ladies already arriving from far corners of the North, you had met so many people you couldn’t quite remember all of their names.

But Cregan Stark himself appeared in the God’s Wood, certainly looking for the last visit who came in a dragon, certainly scaring, again, all of his people. Who weren’t used to the flying creatures as the population of King’s Landing.

“Princess Rhaenys”, he greeted, and your dear aunt nodded

“Lord Cregan Stark”

“We were not expecting you”, he said seriously

“I received the letter from my naive, it was not an invitation but certainly, I had to make the journey to be with her the day of her wedding, wouldn’t you think?”, she asked, and he, with a new found respect on his eyes, nodded, his eyes wouldn’t leave hers

“I agree, the family of my bride should be there for her”, he said and then his eyes found you and a hint of a smile on his lips, “I’m glad she has at least one of the members of her family, shall we expect Lord Corlys?”

“No, just me”, she said

“We will have a room prepared”, he said firmly. It was like the faceoff of two alpha, an alpha wolf, and an alpha dragon. And it looked like they respected each other

“I know it isn’t customary for a woman to be a part of the Old Gods marriage ceremony, but I, as the closest kin, her aunt, I will give her away”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way”, he said firmly, “the old gods do not discriminate, kin is kin, blood is blood”

“Good”, she said.

You were glad to have your aunt there.

taglist!

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker @lyannesworld @arujee

#misguidedwinter #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house targaryen #house stark #cregan x reader #cregan #cregan stark #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader

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jiliansky-blog · 9 months ago

Text

Sandman Masterlist

Started: December 18th, 2022

Morpheus X OC, Morpheus x Reader

Bounded

Prologue

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2. Morpheus

Chapter 3. Accident

Chapter 4. Dreams and Nightmares

Chapter 5. Feelings

Chapter 6. Uninvited guests

Final chapter. Hope

The power of love

Prologue

Day 1. You had me at hello.

Day 2. I don’t know you, but I want to

Day 3. Two broken souls

Day 4. The beginning of something new

Day 5. Warmer in the winter with you

Day 6. Baby, it’s cold outside

Day 7. My true love gave to you

Day 8. Last Christmas I gave you my heart

Day 9. Time to fall in love

Day 10. The most wonderful time of the year

Day 11. You’re mean one, Mr.Grinch

Day 12. I won’t freeze you out

Day 13. Crazy for Christmas

Day 14. Let it snow

Day 15. Let it go

Day 16. Sing for my life

Day 17. Every day is Christmas with you by my side

Day 18. Snowflake

Day 19. Just like Christmas

Day 20. You make it feel like Christmas

Day 21. Jingle bells

Day 22. Stay another day

Day 23. Underneath the Christmas lights

Day 24. Christmas Eve

Day 25. Everything I want for Christmas is you

Final chapter. Happy New Year

Dreamwalker

Prologue

Chapter 1. Into the Dreaming

Chapter 2. Discovering the power

Chapter 3. Lord Morpheus

Chapter 4. You are not alone

Chapter 5. Emotions

Chapter 6. The heart’s desire

Chapter 7. Keep my heart safe

Epilogue

Tale as old as time

Prologue

Day 1. Arrival

Day 2. In the light of new day

Day 3. Mystery

Day 4. The flower

Day 5. Healing

Day 6. A sudden guest

Day 7. Butterflies and confessions

Day 8. Pay back

Day 9. Deep inside my heart

Day 10. The ball and the escape

Day 11. Home is a place where your heart is

Final chapter. The words of love

Cat of dreams

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Last chapter

The god of dreams

Part 1. The greek vocation. Chapter 1.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Final chapter

Witch's love

Chapter 1. A long time ago

Chapter 2. Old flame of love

Chapter 3. I still care

Final chapter. You won't be alone.

The Labyrinth of dreams

Chapter 1. King of goblins

Chapter 2. King of nightmares

Chapter 3. A world beyond

Chapter 4. Heart’s decision

Chapter 5. Where your loyalty lies

Chapter 6. The ball

Chapter 7. You have no power over me

Final chapter. Happy ending

In the dark

Chapter 1. Unexpected guest

Chapter 2. The beginning of something new

Chapter 3. The mistake

Chapter 4. Through the fairy woods

Chapter 5. The fairy realm

Chapter 6. Confrontation

Chapter 7. Trials

Chapter 8. Looking for the fern flower

Chapter 9. Final task

The final chapter. A win of true love

#morpheus x reader #dream x reader #sandman x reader #sandman fanfiction

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neewtmas · 11 months ago

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12 days of Christmas // A Lockwood & Co Advent Calendar

DAY 10

Hello everyone! It's the second-to-last post for this advent calendar, and today, it's time for my personal favourite. I wanted to include an x reader fic for every member of the agency, and after Lucy (day 2) and Lockwood (day 6), it's finally time for George! Seeing as this is a certified George-Fanblog™️ of course his fic is gonna be the grand finale.

But the best thing about today's post is that it is actually a collaboration! I wrote this together with the wonderful and insanely talented Eden (@givemea-dam-break) who understood my vision for this so well and I am so proud of what we created together. Thank you so much for doing this with me Eden, it was so much fun!!! love you🫂🫶🏻

make sure you don't miss out and go check out Eden's other writing here: masterlist

Brother Knows Best

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 6.3k

short summary: George's brother shows up at 35 Portland Row and shakes things up between George and reader

advent calendar tags: @givemea-dam-break @wellgoslowly @maraschinomerry @losticaruss @oblivious-idiot @uku-lelevillain @avdiobliss @strawberryloveyyy @strawberrycowgirly @demigoddess-of-ghosts @thefriendlyneighborhoodmomfriend @boookfreeak

my masterlist

day 1 day 2 day 3 day 4 day 5 day 6 day 7 day 8 day 9

It was a beautiful day in the middle of winter when (name) realised she was in love with George Karim.

The two of them were walking side by side, their breaths forming little puffs of white in the freezing air. It had snowed the night before, but all that was left were some dirty grey piles on patches of grass by the road. She’d had her hands buried in the warm pockets of her coat the whole walk, but still, her fingers felt stiff as she pushed open the gate in front of 35 Portland Row. George followed closely behind, carrying a bag full of books and newspapers they’d borrowed from the Archives.

(name) bounced up the stairs like she always did, not considering what the puddle of melted snow on the steps that had wet her shoes this morning would turn into over the course of the cold day. The worn sole of her boot slid over the patch of ice, and she lost balance, trying to grip the railing to prevent a fall.

But that wasn't necessary. George was there in an instant, arms wrapped around her and steadying her until she found her footing again.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and she nodded, finding herself unable to speak.

He released her from his grasp, taking a slow step back. (name) could do nothing but stand still for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart. She had no idea if it came from the adrenaline of almost falling or the shock of having George be so close to her so suddenly. She watched as he picked up the bag he had dropped on the ground in his rush to catch her, and then searched his coat pockets for the house key. His fingers trembled slightly, probably from the cold, as he pulled it out and turned it in the lock, keychains jingling.

Inside, the kitchen was deserted, but the kettle was still warm so (name) just had to choose two mugs and quickly reboil it while George laid out the books they had gotten. At this time of year, the warm, cosy kitchen of Portland Row was so much more inviting than the somewhat chilly archives. They could turn the heating up as much as they wanted here, which was why they had opted for just a short trip over to gather some books and then return to the warmth of their home.

(name) brought the two steaming mugs over to the table and made herself comfortable on the chair beside George. He had already grabbed one of the books and was intently skimming the table of contents.

“You can get started on the newspapers," he said without looking up, flicking through the book to find a specific page. “We’ve got a few to work through.”

She knew that, of course, because she had been the one to go on an hour-long hunt for all the ones he claimed they needed. Silently, she pulled the heap of newspapers over and started with the one on top, dating back 15 years.

George took a sip from his tea and grimaced. "You forgot the sugar."

That wasn’t like her. She always remembered the sugar. What was up with her?

George leaned over and reached past her for the sugar, and (name)'s breath hitched in her throat at the proximity. She could faintly smell his shampoo and was near enough that she could see the little scar on his temple, barely visible, from a case they’d taken on a month or two ago. Wordlessly, and seemingly oblivious to the thundering of her heart, he poured some sugar into his cup and stirred, all the while focusing back on what he was reading.

(name) tried to do the same, she really did, but the fact that George was now so close that their legs were touching made the simple task everything but. How was she supposed to focus when all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears; hearing him muttering quiet words under his breath as if he hadn’t just stolen the air from her lungs?

It was when she looked at him then, a picture of serenity in the winter sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, that she felt it in her heart. Some urging sense of need, of want. A desire to do this for the rest of her life - to sit beside him, whether it be to research something or remember to put sugar in his tea or God knows what. To spend an eternity pressed up to his side, feeling this thrum of her heart. To feel the thrill of his fingers brushing hers as he reached over to peek at something in the newspaper she was reading.

There was no guarantee he would feel the same, she knew that. She didn’t expect him to, not when his life revolved around uncovering the root of the Problem. But she was grateful for what she got: the time he spared for her; the books he would gift her after visiting a bookshop on his way home from the Archives; the tea he’d make in the morning, served with some partially burnt toast he’d forgotten he’d put in the toaster until the moment it popped out.

And that was okay. Truly, it was.

—

35 Portland Row was in chaos.

George was in the middle of a cleaning spree, rushing around in a flowery apron and blue rubber gloves, scrubbing at every crack and crevice to be found - and, well, there were many of those. Lockwood was straightening the pillows in the living room, something he would seldom be found doing, and it was likely that he was stuffing things under said pillows to save having to find space for them in the cluttered house. Lucy, bless her soul, was making tea quicker than her hands could move and had spilt boiling water on her toes. Many curse words ensued.

This chaos, however, did not extend to (name).

Standing by the living room window, staring out onto the street beyond, she felt an odd sense of calm mixed with a hint of excitement.

Why? What incredible company could they be having that had the ability to send the members of Lockwood and Co. into such a frenzy?

Issam Karim.

She had been set on guard duty, ordered by the younger Karim brother to shout out when she saw him approaching. In all honesty, she wasn’t entirely sure why George was making such a fuss about it. He had four older brothers, Issam, or Sam as he preferred, being the youngest of them and, according to Lockwood, the one most similar to George. So it wasn’t like he had anything to worry about.

Even still, when (name) saw a familiar mop of dark curls, she called out to the others and hurried over to the front door.

The knock came soon after; two slow taps followed by silence. George was there, staring at the door over her shoulder, tugging his rubber gloves off. And there was Lucy and Lockwood, peering from the end of the hallway like overly interested parents meeting their child’s friend for the first time.

(name) swung the door open.

Seeing Sam was like looking into George’s reflection, minus the glasses and with slightly neater hair. He was a little taller, broader, and, well, more adult-looking, she supposed. But he was most definitely a Karim.

And, god, did he smile like George, too.

It was the same kind of smile that George showed when he was proud of something - full of teeth and elation, with a sparkle of dark eyes to top it off. If it had been George smiling at her like that, her knees would’ve buckled and her heart would’ve threatened to beat out of her chest, but there was something different about Sam’s variation of the smile. Something extremely fraternal.

George ushered his brother in, scooting past (name) with barely any room thanks to the narrow hallway. Her heart lurched at the feeling of his arm brushing against hers as she hurried to move out of the way.

“Oh, Georgie,” Sam said, smiling at the decorations covering the walls, “you’ve been holding out on me. If I knew you stayed in a house like this…”

He plucked the nearest mask off the wall, scrutinizing it, and Lockwood looked as if he wanted to tell him off, but he refrained after the warning look George gave him.

(name) could understand that. He wanted to impress his brother, especially after years of feeling excluded from his family simply for pursuing a life revolving around ghosts rather than engineering.

She just hoped that he knew he impressed her regardless.

The five of them sat down in the living room, the coffee table laden with mugs of steaming tea and plates stacked high with biscuits and doughnuts. Sam plucked a Hobnob from one of the plates and chewed on it carefully, glancing around the room like a child at a theme park. He had a look of wonder in his eyes that (name) so often saw and admired in George’s.

“You’ve met Lockwood before,” George said from beside his brother. “But this is Lucy, and that’s (name). They’ve both been here a year and a half now.”

“Oh. This is the infamous (name)?” Sam’s smile was dazzling despite the scathing look George gave him. “Wonderful to meet you.”

(name) and Lucy shared a look. Lucy looked like she was trying not to smile as she caught Lockwood’s eye. It seemed like the two of them knew something that (name) didn’t, and it had her feeling a little uneasy.

“Nice to finally meet you, Sam,” she said, offering up a smile.

The conversation went well enough thanks to Lockwood, who started asking Sam about his university life and how classes were going. Most of what he said, however, was just confusing to them. As agents, they hadn’t gotten the chance to experience much of a school life, so all this talk of complicated maths and big, fancy words went straight over their heads. Sam didn’t seem to mind. It appeared that he just liked having people he could sound incredibly intelligent to.

Definitely related to George. Although George was much more willing to simplify what he was saying so that the others understood.

Not that (name) minded. She could listen to George speak in his overly-complicated way for the rest of their lives and she’d be grateful.

An elbow dug into her side. “You’re staring,” Lucy murmured, leaning close.

“Hmm?”

“You’re staring. At George. Hard.”

(name) blinked. “No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No! Look, over his shoulder, there’s a tear in the sofa cover. That’s what I was looking at.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, with lovey-dovey eyes, huh? You can’t even give a half-decent fib.”

(name)’s face felt awfully hot, and she couldn’t even get herself to look in George’s general direction. She hadn’t been staring at him, right? She had just looked for a moment, finding herself particularly fond of how his hair flopped over his forehead in soft curls; how his fingers fiddled with the loose threads from a rip in his jeans, and -

With a silent curse, she realised that, yes, maybe she had been staring.

At least it was Lucy who had noticed and not George. Although, she likely would have to deal with incessant questions at night when she was trying to sleep.

The conversation carried on for a while longer before Sam sat his empty teacup on the table and rose from his seat on the sofa.

"Alright, that was lovely, but I’m going to head off for a bit. I have some friends in the city that I haven't seen in a while", he said, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Lockwood stood up as well, brushing some imaginary dust off his trousers as he so often did. "Will you be back for dinner?"

"(name) is cooking", Lucy added.

Sam turned to (name) and shot her a smile. "Well, in that case, I'll make sure I'll be back. Wouldn't want to miss that."

(name) lowered her head, embarrassed at the attention that was on her now. "I'm not even that good,” she mumbled.

"I think you're great", George blurted out, though if the slight pink tinge to his cheeks was anything to go by, he hadn’t meant to say it.

(name) was sure she was blushing now. She knew George appreciated her cooking, but considering his cooking skills, she sometimes wasn't sure if he didn't just say so to make her feel better.

Sam left the house a few minutes later, and any indescribable tension that had built up dissipated. Lockwood and George started up a conversation while Lucy and (name) grabbed the dirty mugs and took them through to the kitchen.

"So… What do you think of him?" Lucy asked as she dumped the dishes into the sink.

"He's nice", (name) replied, adding the dishes she was holding to the pile in the sink, though much more carefully than Lucy. She frowned at a chip in the top of one of the mugs. "But I didn't expect anything else. After everything George has said about him, you know, I half expected the sun to shine out of his ass."

Lucy snorted, leaning back against the counter. "George seems a little on edge, though, don't you think?"

(name) wasn't sure where Lucy was going with this. "He's probably nervous if we'll like him. He's family after all."

Lucy looked at her for a moment with an unreadable expression. "That must be it,” she finally said, before leaving the kitchen to retrieve the rest of the dishes that were still waiting in the living room.

----

(name) was quietly humming to herself as she sliced some tomatoes, periodically checking if the water in the pot on the stove next to her was boiling already. The house was still and quiet, just how she liked it. Sam was out with his friends, Lucy and Lockwood were out doing whatever - they had been gone since lunch - and were, in all honesty, probably fawning over each other in that way they so often did, albeit obliviously. George had buried himself in the library since Sam had left, mumbling something about 'important research and experiments'. (name) had the sneaking suspicion that that meant he was doing something with the skull, but what exactly, she didn't really want to know. Based on the faces the skull always pulled after a day like this, his expression more horrid than ever, it couldn't be anything good.

The evening sun was shining right through the kitchen window in front of her, and in her peripheral vision, she saw movement in the garden. She looked up and spotted a small red squirrel running through the high grass before racing up the tree. She smiled at the sight of the animal and its simple joy in the winter garden, but a sharp pain tore her from her stupor, and she couldn't help the yelp that slipped past her lips.

Immediately, her gaze fell to her hand, where a deep cut on her finger was bleeding heavily. Shit, there was blood all over the cutting board. Without thinking, she hurried over to the sink and held her finger under the water, cursing at how cold it was. The water faded to red after running over her finger, and she could already feel herself starting to get lightheaded. The shock of the cut was wearing off, and the pain was intensifying.

It was stupid, really, that she was in such a fuss over a small slice. Nevertheless, she yelled for George in what was probably a futile attempt. If he was deep in his experiments, there would be no tearing his attention away. Lockwood had tried many things in an attempt to get his attention, so she didn’t hold out much hope.

But just a few seconds later there he was, suddenly in the kitchen doorway. His eyebrows were raised, lips parted in a silent question as his eyes found her finger in the tapstream, leaking a seemingly endless amount of blood.

"Oh shit, (name), what happened?"

“Thought I’d add a bit of my finger to dinner." She spoke through gritted teeth, joking in an attempt to ease herself, or even George. It didn’t work that well.

She’d never had any problems with blood, and she’d cared for many injuries her teammates had sustained over the last year, but her blood - that was an entirely different story. George was next to her in an instant, rummaging around in the medical cupboard for a plaster of the right size. She almost laughed upon hearing him complain that they needed to reorganise the whole thing as he tore a long strip from a box and cut it with a pair of scissors.

"Can you turn off the water?"

(name) did what he asked. Before she knew it, one of his hands was gently holding her wrist, bringing her hand closer to inspect the cut. It wasn’t as deep as it had appeared at first glance, just long and thin, but it was still oozing blood. Most of the issue had been the sheer shock of it and the throbbing pain that filled her whole finger.

It was easier, though, to forget about the pain when his skin was touching hers. He held her so softly, dabbing blood away with such care that her heart swelled as she watched him, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to avoid the cut itself. He pressed slightly too hard, and her breath caught.

"Sorry, I'll try and be gentle,” he promised.

He led her over to the kitchen table, where she could rest her arm atop the scribbled-on cloth as he worked away. He was quiet as he took the plaster off the paper, slathering on antiseptic cream before wrapping it carefully around her finger. Something in his cheek twitched.

She watched as the concentration moulded his face into some softer version of a frown, the kind of one he often donned when working away in the Archives on a more complex case. Delicately, he stuck the remaining side of the plaster down before relaxing a little. His hand rested on hers, enveloping it in comfortable warmth, and she had to question if the lightheadedness she felt was still from the blood or just from the way he smiled at her.

For a wonderful moment, neither of them moved. His hand squeezed around hers ever so slightly, and his eyes found hers; his gaze encapsulating her very soul. She couldn’t look away, trapped in eyes that no artist could ever replicate, and found a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She could’ve stayed like that forever, would’ve given anything for this moment to last just a little longer, but it didn’t.

George cleared his throat, pulling his hand back and tearing his gaze from hers as he stood. (name) looked down at her finger, wrapped snugly in its waterproof plaster, and hoped he couldn’t see the blush that was staining her cheeks.

"I'm going to take over dinner", George said, shuffling awkwardly. "There is no way I'll let you cook with your hand like this.”

“But -”

“Research can wait before you say anything.”

And that was that.

(name) reluctantly did what he said and stayed in her seat, watching as he washed off the cutting board and then continued where she had left off. It was frustrating how much neater he sliced tomatoes than she did.

The pain that had momentarily subsided had come back worse, and her whole finger was pulsating with waves of dull pain. She tried her best to keep up a conversation with George, and not let on how she was feeling. No need to make him more worried than he already was. But it was clear that he was still concerned, what with his short glances back every two minutes. She had to fight back a little smile at that.

A bang sounded, signalling that somebody had just come in the front door, and she turned to look through the kitchen doorway to see who it was.

Sam, upon seeing the kitchen door open, made his way down the steps after taking off his jacket, smiling as he entered.

"Man, that was exhausting", he said, making himself comfortable on one of the seats - Lockwood’s. He wouldn’t be happy about that. “Forgot how big London is.”

"Do you want something to drink?" (name) asked.

"That would be great."

She squeezed past George, half-annoyed at the small walking space in the kitchen and half-grateful that she had another excuse to be closer to him, and reached up into one of the cupboards for a glass.

"What happened to your finger?" Sam asked, gaze fixed on the plaster as she filled the glass with water.

"Just a little cut", she said, plastering on some semblance of a smile. The pain was worse now after bashing it on one of the shelves. “Nothing much.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in a way that looked so much like George. "That doesn't seem like just a little cut", he said. "Can I check it?”

(name) didn't know what to do. She looked over to George, who was busy stirring the contents of the pot, seemingly not listening to their conversation.

“Oh, no, George has already patched me up. I’ll be fine.”

“George is about as good at first aid as our dad, which is to say shit. I insist. It’ll be quick.”

With one more glance at George, she sat back down, setting the glass in front of Sam. No harm in letting him check, she supposed.

He shuffled his chair around, sitting so that her legs slotted in between his, then took her hand and inspected the plaster. A shadow of blood was already peeking through.

"I'm going to take this off and see how bad the cut is, alright?"

(name) nodded in agreement, already dreading the pain this was surely going to cause.

George had turned down the heat of the stove and now leaned against the counter to watch them, his arms crossed. There was something in his expression, a sliver of unfamiliar emotion hidden in his eyes and the slight downturn of his lips.

"Is that really necessary, Sam?" he asked, his voice unusually sharp.

Sam moved closer to (name), slowly peeling the plaster off and revealing the cream-covered, blood-stained finger that had her feeling lightheaded again.

"Oh, it’s necessary. After that one time you tried to patch me up when we were younger, I wouldn’t trust you with a paper cut.”

George huffed. “I was eight. It’s not like I was going to be an expert. Besides, you’re an engineer, not a doctor.”

Sam only hummed, glancing at his younger brother for less than a second. A shadow of a smile haunted his lips.

(name) shuffled uncomfortably, gaze flickering between the two. Tension was rising for some reason unknown to her, and she had a feeling that she was the root of it. But why? She’d only cut her finger. That shouldn’t have been a cause for anything.

“Just as well I’ve checked,” Sam murmured. “That’s definitely more than a little cut.”

“It barely hurts now,” (name) lied. “Seriously, it’s fine.”

And it was. It had been. She had liked it when George had held her hand so tenderly, making sure not to hurt her. Sam doing the same wasn’t necessarily bad, but it felt wrong. Especially with that look on George’s face. He looked ready to kill.

That look alone had a flicker of hope igniting in her chest. Did it mean he felt the same as she did, even just a little bit?

No, she told herself. This was George. George loved his books and scribbling insults on the thinking cloth for Lockwood to find later and reading away in the Archives. There wasn’t enough room for her to fit in his heart. Surely.

Sam was quick to put a new plaster on, this one more neatly cut than the one George had rushed to tear, though there had been an essence of care in it. In reality, she preferred his jagged edges over Sam’s cleaner ones.

She wasn’t entirely sure if she was thinking about plasters now.

“Thanks,” she said, taking her hand back out of Sam’s grip. “Uh, George, how’s dinner coming?”

For a moment, there was no reply. Then George seemed to remember that there was a world beyond the little bubble that had encased the three of them and hurriedly glanced back at the boiling pan of vegetables.

“Fine,” he said eventually.

“Hope you’re better at cooking than you are at first aid, Georgie,” Sam jested.

It was clear he meant it to be a joke, but whatever had soured George’s mood had twisted it into something different. He all but scoffed as he turned back to the pan, stirring methodically.

“George is the best,” (name) said. “If we didn’t have him, we’d be living off of Lockwood’s toast and jam.”

George’s shoulders eased slightly at that. “Either that or spag-bol every night. There’s only so much of it I can eat.”

(name) laughed and so did George, albeit breathy and quiet. Even still, it had the pressure building in her chest ease off a little and had her heart aching to hear more.

Sam’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “So, how long have you two been together?”

Dead silence. There it was again - that suffocating tension. (name)'s heart felt like it had stopped in her chest entirely, and George had ceased every movement. The wooden spoon in his hand hovered over the simmering water, dripping and dripping and dripping until the sound became unbearable and, somehow, too loud.

Did she mind someone assuming she was in a relationship with George? No, of course not. She couldn't imagine anything better for herself. But the hesitation in his movements, the way he looked back at Sam with what could only be described as acute disbelief, had her lunch making its way back up her throat. That tiny sliver of hope she’d felt earlier? Gone.

“No! We’re not - ” George stammered helplessly, eyes wide.

“Oh, my mistake,” Sam said nonchalantly. There was a glint in those dark eyes of his. Mischief. “Just from what I’ve seen today, and how much George talks about you, (name), I kind of assumed…”

“Sam!”

Sam closed his mouth, apparently unwilling to be further berated by his brother, but there was a hint of satisfaction in his smile.

- - - -

Dinner, to begin with, went as smoothly as it could after the bomb Sam had dropped. Lockwood and Lucy returned from their escapades, rosy-cheeked and laughing, but their demeanours soon shifted upon feeling the tension filling the kitchen. With nothing more than a look, Lucy seemed to gauge the situation and began talking about some of the strange stuff she and Lockwood had encountered on the streets of London.

Well, to her and (name) it was strange. To the native Londoners, it was an everyday thing. But truth be told, (name) was much more concerned about George… it was strange seeing him behave like he did.

George was often quiet, unless he was talking about a topic he was particularly enthusiastic about or insulting Lockwood or the Fittes team they’d dubbed their rivals. Yet there had always been a sense of peace in those silences, a comfort that allowed (name) to know that he was okay, either just listening or pondering away in his own little world.

Now, though… This silence was new and different and she knew that it was caused by the implication that they were acting like a couple. (name) tried to think over everything they’d ever done to make it seem that way - the lingering touches and long-held gazes, the time spent together and the happiness they always seemed to feel around each other - and she could see why. And if Sam had been telling the truth, George had talked about her to him in what she had to assume was a positive way.

So why was he reacting like this? Why did he seem so distressed by the thought of her?

It was halfway through dinner when she decided she couldn’t bear it anymore. He wouldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t answer her questions on how his research was going. Wouldn’t listen to Lockwood droning on about heaven knows what.

She stood from her chair and moved away from the table. “I’m going for a walk.”

That seemed to perk everyone up.

Lockwood frowned. “You all right?”

“I just need some fresh air,” she said. “It’s stuffy in here.”

Sam shifted in his chair, making to stand. “I’ll come along. I know some good places to clear your head -”

“No, it’s fine,” (name) insisted, and her voice came out rather firm. “I’ll not be long. Just a walk around the block.”

And then she was gone, fighting not to look back to see if George was concerned or unbothered.

Why did she care so much if he was? He had practically ignored her throughout the whole of dinner, despite her effort to have a conversation, all because his brother had assumed they were a thing. Was she truly so inadequate? Was the mere prospect of being with her so terrible?

It didn’t matter. She’d be just fine on her own. She’d managed it all of these years, and she’d do just the same regardless. What did it matter whether or not he liked her?

But, as she strolled through the wintery streets, it became abundantly clear that no matter how hard she tried, it would always be important to her.

(name) loved George more than anything she had before. She would give him the world if she could. And part of her wanted to believe that, even if he didn’t feel the same, she would always hold on to those feelings.

But that sentiment was just for the romantic movies and sappy novels she spent her free time reading. In reality, she didn’t have it in her to give and give and give and get nothing in return.

The cold air bit at her cheeks, and she crossed her arms as she walked, trying to preserve any warmth that she could. Maybe she should’ve grabbed a thicker jacket on her way out, or changed from her trainers into the pair of boots she’d left out because, god, the frost was seeping through the canvas material.

She almost jumped out of her skin when something wrapped around her neck.

In a burst of fear, she whirled around and stumbled backwards before realising that the thing was soft, and it was warm. And the person who had wrapped it around her was someone extremely familiar.

“George?” she asked, frowning. Her hand reached up to the thing he’d wrapped around her, nails catching on the knitted fabric. “You brought me… a scarf?”

George, who looked mildly shocked by his actions, nodded. “Uh, yeah - yes. You, um, you left without it. I didn’t want you - didn’t want you getting cold, you know?”

“Uh, thanks.”

And for a moment, she lingered, waiting for him to say something. George stood still before her, looking at her in a way she was sure he had never before - slightly wide-eyed, awe-like - but he tore his gaze from her and looked at the ground.

It was then that the feelings she’d been consumed by just moments ago began to creep back again. Why was she still standing here? So what if he'd brought her a scarf? He hadn’t even been able to stomach speaking to her after Sam assumed they were together.

The thought was enough to convince her. With a tight, thin-lipped and awkward smile in his general direction, she turned to continue on her walk. She’d come out to clear her head, and although she was grateful for the scarf, George was jumbling her thoughts again, just as he always did. And, well, if he wasn’t going to say anything, then she was just going to continue her stroll.

“(name), wait.”

She was half-tempted to keep walking, but the tone of George’s voice was enough to stop her feet from moving. He was nervous. Yes, sure, she had seen him nervous many, many times, but this was different. With the slight tremor in his voice, so very subtle, he had all the power at that moment to stop her.

Slowly, she turned to face him again, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Yeah?”

There was a look in his eyes, unlike anything she had ever seen before. They had softened considerably from when he had been talking to Sam, and there was a crease between his eyebrows that showed a hint of worry she would usually have to search for in his movements. Never did he show his anxiousness as clearly as he did now.

“I -” His voice caught, and he tore his eyes from her face, instead looking at his muddy trainers. “I’m sorry. About how I’ve been acting today.”

She shrugged. “I get it. Your brother’s here. You want us to like him, but he’s getting on your nerves. It’s what siblings do. None of us mind, George. Sam’s nice.”

“That’s not…” It wasn’t what he had meant, and it was clear that he knew she was trying to avoid the topic. “Sam is a lot of things, you know. He’s annoying and insanely smart and kind and -”

“I’ve met him,” (name) said, not unkindly. “I know.”

George ran a hand over his face. “I know, but what I mean to say is that he isn’t a liar.”

Usually, George Karim was not someone to beat around the bush. It was one of the things that (name) admired about him. If there was something he wanted to say, then he would say it, straight and upfront. But to see him now, fumbling over himself and avoiding the point…

“You’re making no sense,” she said.

“What he’s been saying about me… me talking about you a lot.” There was a brief pause. “He’s not wrong. I do talk about you a lot. I think my mum knows more about you than about me.”

A smile tried to fight its way onto her lips, but she held it back. If this was going where she so desperately hoped it would, it wouldn’t hurt to have him say it directly.

“I suppose that’s what friends are like,” she said. “Growing up, my dad knew every detail there was to know about my best friend.”

If one were to describe George Karim, bold would not be a word they would use. Smart, of course. Sarcastic, yes. Awkward, yes again. Bold? Absolutely not.

But there was no other way to describe his actions at that moment. The certainty he stepped forward with, the soft yet assured feel of his hands wrapping around hers. God, he was so close now that she could feel his warm breath ruffling her hair. And his eyes, lord, his eyes. Despite the slow-creeping darkness in the evening sky, his eyes only seemed to grow brighter. She could see the anxiety creeping beneath the surface, whether it be for the actions that may follow or her possible reaction.

“I don’t want to just be your friend,” he said. His voice was barely more than a whisper, but she could hear the words as clearly as she would if he had shouted them.

She had known the words had been coming or had hoped, but hearing them was an entirely new thing. She could feel her heart swell with joy and relief, feel the smile that had so badly wanted to break free rise onto her lips. Her hands shifted carefully, cautiously, until her fingers could fit in between his.

“I’m sorry again about how I’ve been acting.” His words were beginning to rush out the way they did when he had too much to say. “I hadn’t felt ready to tell you, and Sam kept pushing and pushing. I thought if I ignored him I could sort my feelings out, but then I got too nervous and couldn’t even speak to you. God, you make me nervous. Did you know that?”

Her face scrunched with delight. “Georgie?”

He looked a little out of breath. “Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Judging from the look of pure shock on his face, he had not expected such a straightforward request. He didn’t speak, but he nodded.

(name) grinned, slowly pulling one of her hands from his grip to push his glasses up his nose before placing it on his shoulder and leaning forward.

As a child, she had not liked to watch the kissing scenes in movies. They had always felt awkward and, at the time, she had never been able to imagine sharing an intimate moment like that with anybody, nevertheless enjoy it.

But here she was, kissing her best friend, and loving it.

It was a little stiff to begin with but after a moment, they relaxed into it - into the feeling of fireworks and butterflies and warm lips. George’s hand squeezed hers, and his free hand slipped around to her back, pulling her a little closer.

The kiss didn’t last long, no more than a few seconds, but (name) found herself unable to compare the breathtaking moment to anything she had ever experienced. And, well, the look on George’s face told her that he felt much the same.

“I don’t want to just be friends either,” she said, finding herself feeling somewhat shy after such an uncharacteristic moment of confidence. “If that’s okay with you.”

George nodded with such vigour it was a wonder his head was still attached to his neck. “Okay with me.”

thank you for reading!

#lockwood and co advent calendar #george karim x reader #george karim #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood and co x reader

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 1 year ago

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Holiday Bingo 2023 Masterlist

Happy Holidays!! This is @storiesofsvu ‘s bingo that they created and have invited me to. This bingo goes till January 20th, and until then, I will work through the bingo sheet with a new character every bingo day!

Approach at your own risk… smut =* extra smutty =**

Day 1: November 30th- Holiday Shopping Fun ~Lady Lesso xFem Reader*

Day 2: December 3rd- We Want Who We Want ~Larissa Weems xFem CollegeAge!Reader**

Day 3: December 10- Togetherness Through Hard Times ~Dom!Narcissa Malfoy xFem Sub!CollegeStudent!Reader*

Day 4: December 12- Feelings Unwrapped ~Marilyn Thornhill xFem TeachersAssistant!Reader

Day 5: December 15- Snowed In, Let Me Show you How it’s Done ~Polly Gray xFem Younger(20s)!Reader**

Day 6: December 19- Winter Love ~Clarissa Dovey xFem Professor!Wife!Reader*

Day 7: December 23- Things Heated on Christmas Eve ~Dom!Captain Phasma xFem Sub!Reader**

Day 8: December 26- Enchanted Gifts ~Mommy!Agatha Harkness xFem Witch!Reader*

Day 9: December 28- Happy Holidays, I’m Dying ~Soft!Cipher xFem Wife!Reader

Day 10: January 2- Snowball Puppy ~Dom!Bellatrix Lestrange xFem Puppy!Reader*

Day 11: January 3- New Year’s Kiss ~Kate Woodstock xFem!Assistant!Reader

Day 12: January 5- My Type ~Anna May xFem Madeleine’sNiece!Reader

Day 13: January 7- Chilly, Cold Nights ~Bo-Katan Kryze xFem Reader

Day 14: January 10- The Fire was Started a Long Time Ago ~Mommy!Alma Peregrine xFem Younger!Peculiar!Reader**

Day 15: January 12- Falling for You ~Melissa Schemmenti xFem AndrogynousPresenting!SoftButch!ShortHaired!NewTeacher!Reader

Day 16: January 13- Things Happen When She’s Bored ~Daddy!Regina Mills xFem Reader*

Day 17: January 14- Daddy’s Bunny ~Daddy!Alex Cabot xFem Bunny!Wife!Reader*

Day 18: January 16- Baby It’s Cold Outside ~Claire Debella xFem Younger(20s)!CampaignAssistant!Reader

Day 19: January 18- Teasing Snow ~Olivia Benson xFem Girlfriend!Reader

Day 20: January 19- Good Girls Get Rewarded ~Sub!Alcina Dimitrescu xFem Dom!Reader

@storiesofsvu

~~~

Thanks for sticking around 🤍🎄♥️ Leave a comment, reblog a post, message me—I want to hear your thoughts!!

#holiday bingo 2023 Masterlist #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #holiday bingo #cissyenthusiast010155 Masterlist

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1-800-call-ria · 3 months ago

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The Summer that Lasted Forever :

The Website

pairing: female!reader x NCT DREAM Chenle x NCT WISH Sion x RIIZE Eunseok

genre: camp conselor!au (angst, fluff and etc)

WC: 0.6k

AN: Ideas, criticism and more is encouraged!! I would love to hear everyones thoughts!

Series Masterlist ||

As a college student you found your summers to be open. But this year you wanted a fulfilling vacation. Three months of pure nothing for the past few years left you empty and just as exhausted as before you left for break. Yes you had time to relax and de-stress, but something seemed to be missing. So this year you promised yourself to step out of your comfort zone and at least find a job to occupy your free time.

Finding a summer job hadn't seemed that daunting then. It was definitely scary now. Looking online and even through newspapers to find any places hiring.

You knew for a fact fast food was something you wouldn't do. Handling food, customers and the occasional Karen was not on your bucket list.

Retail hadn't seemed that bad, but it seemed like all the places weren't hiring. You've considered volunteering but again the places either weren't looking for more volunteers or the application process took at least four months.

Just as you're about to give up though, you see a bright multicolored banner sporting a black and white ‘Camp Kwangya’ on the bottom of your screen.

When you scroll all the way down you see a ‘now hiring’ button flashing right in the middle. You've never heard of this place but you continue to click it bringing you to another website. The website honestly looks thrown together and shady with its messy color scheme, minimalist design and blurry photos. And the age categories were also very suspicious with the huge gap of 6-17 years old.

The reviews though told another story.

"This camp will forever be my kid's happy place. The friendships he's made over the last two years are still going strong!"

"My Kid went here years ago! He just recently became a camp counselor, would recommend to anyone who will listen"

"My daughter went here for about 5 years, and she loved it. I would totally recommend this camp for other parents. Each age is divided and my kiddo loved it here. Said it was always the highlight of her summers."

"The counselors are amazing and always put me and my friends first :) "

Scrolling past the reviews and comments about the camp you come to the end of the page and see a link in bright red reading "Our awesome team of counselors that we hope you join!" After you come to another part of the website you're met with a video with the Camp director, Lee Soo-man, introducing each counselor.

First up were the female counselors Minjeong, Jimin, Aeri and Yizhuo. Each had their own charm and honestly were so beautiful.

For the past few years Minjeong (known as Winter to the kids), Jimin (Karina) and Yizhuo (NingNing) had been counselors for the 13-15 year-olds. When Aeri (Giselle) joined last year the groups age range then spanned 13-17 year olds. After explaining that there was a move towards there being at least five counselors-per age, the last few years were exceptions, each girl introduced herself.

The next set of counselors were slightly older including Juhyun (Irene), Seulgi, Seungwan (Wendy), Sooyoung (Joy), and Yerim (Yeri). These women were introduced as the 10, 11 and 12 year old counselors.

Finally Boa, Taeyeon, Hyoyeon, Yuri and Yoona were for the 6-9 year old counselors. They explained that while also being the counselors for the youngsters, they were also apart of the head commit that kept the female side of this camp running. Because these kids were the youngest, they would only stay half of a full summer session. Some kids would only do half days anyways, these were the only kids that didn’t stay 24/7 for the next 6 weeks.

After the last of their introductions the video cut to the director going on about how each counselor was hand chosen by him and the prior/ current ones. It was a very deep and long process only to choose the best option for not only the other team members, but for the kids as well.

Seeing the way director Lee was talking about it, it really did seem like a long and time consuming. The man was passionate about only finding the best option out there. Maybe this wasn't the right job for you.

Just as you're second guessing yourself and about to close out of the website all together. You see a group of the most beautiful men you have ever seen go across your computer screen.

...Okay...so maybe that deep and long application process wasn't really that bad. Was applying worth it? I mean you would be working with fine women and men.

- Do you apply?

[YES] OR [NO]

#1-800-call-ria #nct #nct dream x reader #riize x reader #nct wish x reader #nct fanfic #nct x reader #riize eunseok #chenle x reader #sion x reader #eunseok x reader #nct dream fic #nct fic #riize fics

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aebi12 · 5 months ago

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"Resentment" - Chapter 12 [AemondxRhaena]

Summary

He is the cause of her sufferings. He took her dragon, her betrothed, and her father. Now, he will also take away her future by having to marry him.

With so much history and bad blood between Rhaena and Aemond, their forced union has everything to fail, except that the proximity will make them discover that perhaps they have more in common than it seems.

AU - the Greens win the war.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11

Masterlist of my other works.

Tags: enemies to lovers, romance, angst, drama, eventual smut, hurt/comfort

Please remember that english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for the mistakes...

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

"It was during that darkness that the Others first appeared. They were cold things, dead things, who hated iron and fire and sunlight, and every creature with warm blood in their veins. They devastated villages, cities and kingdoms. They defeated heroes and armies. They were innumerable, always on the backs of white and dead horses, at the head of hosts of corpses. Not all the swords of men could stop their advance, nor did the maidens or the breast babies awaken their compassion. They hunted the girls through the frozen forests and fed the flesh of human children to their dead servants.”

The sudden sound of the door closing makes her gasp, and close the book. Heart pounding in her chest, Rhaena directs her gaze to the other end of the room.

“Rhaena! Why are you still in bed?” Marianne's voice is full of impatience. The lady frowns when she comes close to her friend, and observes her tired and haggard expression, “Are you feeling ill?”

“I was reading,” Rhaena shakes her head.

“Did you spend all night reading?” she asks astonished

“Not all night,” Rhaena blushes, “I slept for a few hours.”

Marianne sighs and closes her eyes for a few moments. “It is an important day, you should have gotten dressed by now.”

“Surely we still have a few hours before I have to…”

“No, no more reading for today,” Marianne walks around the bed until she reaches the book, quickly taking it in her hands as she guesses Rhaena’s intentions to continue with her favorite pastime, “Honestly, how interesting can this be? Boring fiction about the North”

“Not at all!” Rhaena is quick to say, “It is quite fascinating, actually, reading about the terrible winter that descended upon the entire continent. Did you know that the Others rode spiders the size of horses? They were death itself."

“Stop it, I have no desire for horror stories,” Marianne shudders.

“Oh no, Marianne, let me tell you about what I read, who else am I going to share all this new information with?”

“Prince Aemond, of course,” Marianne places the book on one of the tables, “Since he so kindly lent you the book, he might as well hear your opinions on it.”

Rhaena sighs and her gaze drifts once more to the worn cover of the book. Could it be that her cousin enjoyed the stories as much as she did? Was that the reason the book seemed so aged? Or was it just another copy already worn out by the passing of the years?

“Don't you want to know more about winter?”

“The only thing I know about winter is that it is cold, bad for crops and commerce. And, luckily it is not upon us yet,” Marianne approaches the bed, removes the covers from Rhaena's body and extends her hand towards her, “Otherwise the merchants of Lys would not have been able to bring this.”

The lady shows Rhaena a couple of small glass bottles.

"What are they?" she asks, curious, examining the content

“Face and lip powder,” she replies with a smile.

Rhaena's smile widens as well as she climbs out of bed. “You look beautiful today, by the way,” she says after really taking in the appearance of her friend, who is wearing a yellow, almost ocher dress, with delicate details of seashells, the emblem of her house, which accentuates her delicate figure. Her hair, loose in soft waves, falls to her back, framing her heart-shaped face. “Looking to impress someone?”

“You know who I'd like to impress isn't here,” Marianne responds in a discouraged voice, “But my uncle Tyland wants me to take the opportunity to meet future suitors.”

“Surely you already know all the courtiers who live here?” Rhaena takes off her nightgown and puts her hair in a high bun.

“Well…” Marianne interrupts her respond to give instructions to the maids who fill the bathtub, “Some of the guests to your wedding have already arrived at the Fortress and will attend the banquet.”

“Oh, I did not know that,” her stomach twists at the thought of the wedding. Rhaena steps into the tub, rejoicing in the hot water, which calms her immediately.

“Yes, maybe we will meet someone interesting today.”

"Maybe"

Rhaena quickly carves her body with the sponge while her friend prepares the dress, jewelry and shoes she will wear at the banquet with the help of the maids.

“You should have slept a little more, you look too tired,” Marianne says disapprovingly after Rhaena has already gotten out of the bathtub, inspecting the dark circles on her friend's face.

“Relax, Anne, I do not need to look especially put together today. I am already betrothed, remember?”

“Still,” the lady shrugs, “Come on, help Lady Rhaena get dressed,” she instructs the servants, who quickly place Rhaena inside the dress, their deft fingers buttoning the back buttons, “I would know it would fit you perfectly”

Rhaena walks to the bedroom mirror and observes her figure, “It is tighter than what I usually wear,” she comments as she moves from side to side.

“Nonsense, it looks perfect on you,” her friend repeats.

Rhaena offers her a smile, “Thank you, Marianne, I just hope it is discreet enough for the ceremony. The neckline is much more revealing than the ones I wore all week during the festival.”

“Right, I didn't particularly think about that,” Marianne observes her friend, “We could try putting down a muslin or…”

“No, no, it is too pretty a dress to add anything out of place,” Rhaena denies, taking in once again her slim figure accentuated by the cut of the dress. The color, subtle and feminine, looks wonderful on her skin tone.

"Sure?" When Rhaena nods, Marianne continues, “Well, you will need an appropriate necklace.”

“I'll use the one Aemond bought for me.”

“The butterfly one? But it is…”

"Simple?"

"Yes"

Rhaena takes the necklace from her dresser, “It will be a sign of goodwill, in my opinion, that I wear something he gave me since I will not be wearing one of the dresses he sent for me”

“I guess you are right,” Marianne agrees, “Your hair then…”

Her friend spends the next few minutes skillfully braiding her hair and applying the Lys powder, which gives a pinkish touch to her cheeks and lips. Pleased with the result, Rhaena applies her rose perfume and links arms with Marianne.

"Ready?"

“Excited,” Marianne nods, “You know how much I enjoy dancing.”

“As do I,” Rhaena giggles, “And I have a feeling we are going to have a pleasant time today.”

***

Aemond plays with the hem of his doublet as he watches Rhaena and her lady-in-waiting advance slowly, laughing carelessly and unaware of his presence waiting for them at the end of the corridor.

When they finally notice the prince, it is almost funny how their expressions and postures change.

“Good morning, my prince,” it is Rhaena's lady who greets him, bowing appropriately.

“Lady Westerling,” he replies, nodding.

His greeting seems to astonish the young woman, who stares at him for several seconds before exchanging a look with her lady. Aemond raises his eyebrows in her direction, not understanding the reaction.

“Cousin,” Rhaena offers him a kind smile, “I thought we'd meet at the party.”

“I figured the most appropriate thing would be to arrive together, after all and as you reminded me yesterday, we are the guests of honor.”

“I guess you are right,” she admits, her smile widening.

“I'll see you inside,” the Westerling girl says to Rhaena, who takes her hand and squeezes it goodbye. She bows to the prince again and strides toward the double doors at the entrance to the hall.

“Your lady-in-waiting seemed a little…” Aemond leaves the idea hanging.

“I think she was just amazed that you remembered her name.”

“I am able to remember the names of the members of the court,” he replies coldly. If he was honest, he didn't remember the girl's name, but the seashells embroidered on her dress had been enough of a clue for him to remember her house.

“I never said otherwise”

Their gazes meet and Aemond stares at the violet tone of her eyes for a few moments before looking away to her cousin's outfit.

“That's not one of the dresses I sent you,” he comments disapprovingly.

"No, it is not. This is a gift from Marianne, beautiful, don't you think?”

"Hmm"

Aemond thinks he sees the beginnings of a smile on Rhaena's face, but he just turns his back on her and starts walking towards the hall.

The guards bow to both of them and announce their arrival as they open the double doors. Rhaena's perfume invades him once again due to her closeness, and Aemond is tempted to glance at her out of the corner of his eye, but she has positioned herself to his left, so he finds nothing but darkness.

The hall, one of the many in the Red Keep, looks splendidly decorated. Emblems of the Faith, House Targaryen and House Blackwood hang from the high ceilings. An altar to the Mother, decorated with numerous natural flowers, stands out in the center of the place. There is also a small stage on the other side of the room with several chairs in front of it. Aemond frowns, but follows Rhaena to the high table, where the High Septon and old lady Blackwood are standing, but before they get there, Rhaena's hand on his forearm stops their progress.

"What is it?" He asks quietly turning to her.

“Be kind,” she responds in a whisper.

Their eyes meet once again. She looks apprehensive, as if she's afraid of what he might say or do in front of the hosts. He finds her concern annoying and even insulting, but when Rhaena presses her gentle touch on his forearm and takes a step toward him, her scent enveloping him once more, the impulse to respond with a sarcastic comment suddenly fades away.

“Please,” she insists in a tone so low that he practically has to read her lips.

His gaze stays on her lips for a few seconds, finding them small and soft-looking. Were they perhaps…? Aemond stops his train of thought and tilts his head, removing his arm from Rhaena's grasp.

“If you insist,” he finally answers after clearing his throat.

She seems content with his response and starts walking again.

“Lady Blackwood!” She greets with a bright smile, “High Septon,” Rhaena nods to both of them.

“Lady Rhaena, Prince Aemond”

The old woman's hard gaze lingers on him for a moment before she bows.

“My lady,” he responds with a solemn voice and nodding his head respectfully.

“I appreciate the presence of both of you on this special occasion,” says the woman, “It is my hope that you enjoy this small ceremony.”

Aemond purses his lips and suppresses a snort of annoyance. He detests false modesty. The woman had clearly gone to great lengths with the preparations of every detail.

“Everything looks magnificent,” Rhaena smiles, “I am sure you'll be a wonderful hostess today, if your tea parties are any indication.”

They both laugh and the High Septon laughs with them. Beside him, Rhaena subtly bumps her foot against Aemond's.

“It is an honor for us to be here, Lady Blackwood,” he says finally.

The old woman smiles, half pleased and half arrogant. Aemond restrains his desire to roll his good eye at her.

“Please, my prince, Lady Rhaena, join us at the table of honor.”

Aemond walks after his cousin and sits at the table, relieved to not be next to the old woman or the High Septon. He couldn't feign goodwill all morning towards the former and he'd had enough of the latter all week.

Beside him, Rhaena chats with Lady Blackwood, but he does not listen to the conversation, his eye examining the place in detail.

“My prince,” Tyland Lannister greets him and takes the seat next to him, “What a pleasant surprise to have you here.”

“Lord Lannister,” Aemond nods.

Tyland smirks. Aemond turns to him, “I did not know you enjoyed these kinds of events.”

“Certainly not as much as my brother did,” he admits, “But we all have our responsibilities, as you well know.”

"Indeed"

They both talk for a few minutes about the last meeting of the privy council until the High Septon, who is now standing next to the Mother's altar, breaks the conversation, beginning the last ritual of the Festival.

Silence hangs over the room, the music that was playing softly in the background stops and everyone seems attentive to the religious man's words. Aemond glances over the guests, recognizing most of them as members of the kingdom's most prominent houses. A group of dark-haired women sitting at the end of the table to his right catch his attention. Surely, they couldn't be...

The applause of the guests brings him out of his observation and Aemond notices Rhaena standing next to him, and looking at him briefly. He imitates her action and follows her until they reach the Mother's altar.

“And now,” the High Septon seems more excited than the prince has ever seen him in his life, “It is time to adorn the kind Mother in her best finery and take her to the Sept, from where she will continue to watch over us and bless us with her mercy, until it is turn to worship her again."

They stand on either side of the statue and Aemond watches a page-boy hold a crystal box from which Rhaena takes out a golden cloak, clearly exquisitely crafted.

The music is heard again, the court singing the main hymn of the Mother. Aemond sings inertly along with them, his voice barely above a whisper, his eye focused on Rhaena and her task. Noticing her small hands as they place the cloak on the stone back of the statue, delicately securing it with the gold clasp and skillfully arranging the folds. When it seems to be finished, her fingers caress the edge of the cloak from top to bottom, as if feeling the softness of the fabric and the embroidery. Aemond is unable to look away, enthralled with the almost mechanical gesture of Rhaena's hand, with her pleased expression and the soft smile on her face.

“It is your turn, my prince.”

The High Septon gives him an encouraging smile and Aemond begins to say the prayer to the Mother. The words are so engraved in his mind that he recites them without problems, his gaze still fixed on his betrothed, who looks away from the Mother and looks at him too, with a neutral expression that is difficult for him to read.

When Aemond finishes, the page-boy hands him a parchment with special requests which Aemond reads in his most solemn voice.

“What an honor for all of us that the Crown has participated in this ritual!” the High Septon finally says, “May the Mother be generous to Lady Rhaena and the prince and grant them prosperity in their union. Now, all united with Faith in the seven, we raise our prayers to the kind Mother, knowing that she listens to us and grants what we need.”

The High Septon invites all those present to approach the statue and bow before the end of the ceremony. As the attendants advance in an orderly line, the old man urges Rhaena and Aemond to touch the Mother's mantle and offer their petitions.

“Remember that she will listen to you with special attention for having dressed her,” he tells them with a fatherly smile.

Aemond does not respond, just looks at the statue and frowns, not believing the man's words. Perhaps there had been a time when he had believed in the gods, but the war had changed his perspective on many issues, including the Faith. He was not going to ask for anything because he knew he would not get an answer.

In front of him, Rhaena touches the hem of the cloak again, her gaze fixed on the statue, her expression half curious and half ironic. When her gaze drifts back to Aemond, she raises her eyebrow in his direction and gives him a small smile. Aemond can't help but remember her words from the previous afternoon.

Maybe I’ll ask to be a young widow.

Was she also thinking about that? Would she have dared to make such a request? The prince feels the sudden urge to ask her, but he only holds back a smile and looks away.

When the line of ladies and lords finally ends, servants of the faith dressed in brown robes appear to carry the Mother's altar on litters to the sept. The statue is bid farewell to the Fortress amid applause and songs.

And Aemond feels a weight lift from his shoulders. The damned Festival was finally over. He had fulfilled his duty and could consider his participation a resounding success. Surely his mother would be pleased with his performance all week.

Rhaena's sigh brings him back to the reality of the party. The music changes to a much livelier one, and Lady Blackwood takes the floor, thanking and inviting everyone to enjoy and dance.

“Rhaena!”

The Westerling girl approaches them and links her arm with his betrothed.

“Marianne, finally,” Rhaena's voice sounds relieved.

“You have no idea who is here,” the lady's voice cuts off as she notices Aemond's gaze, her face turning red.

Rhaena looks at her curiously before turning to him, “Cousin. I would tell you that it is our duty to dance since we are the guests of honor, but since you have made your position clear about dancing, I will not insist on it.”

“Am I supposed to thank you for that?”

She laughs and rolls her eyes, “If you'll excuse me, I'll go greet the other guests.”

Without waiting for him to give his approval, Rhaena takes the arm of her friend and they get lost among the guests who have already taken the dance floor.

With a growl of dissatisfaction Aemond returns to the table, where Tyland Lannister joins him a few moments later. The conversation flows between them and the prince enjoys a glass of wine while his good eye scans the crowd from time to time looking for his cousin. It is not difficult for him to find her, and every time he does, she is surrounded by ladies and lords with whom she converses animatedly.

“I am sorry if I am keeping you here, my prince,” says Lord Tyland, “Perhaps you would prefer to be with your betrothed.”

Aemond turns his gaze to the man, feeling irritated by the comment, “I am right where I want to be, Lord Tyland.”

Lannister nods thoughtfully, “Have you already come to terms with the idea that Lady Rhaena will be your wife?”

“Mmm,” he makes a noise. He knows that the man is in no way trying to mortify him. He has known Lord Lannister since he was a child and is one of his greatest allies. He was loyal to Aegon's cause during the war and much of the kingdom's treasure was saved thanks to him. Still, he finds himself tempted to tell him to remember his place because of his bold question.

“I am sorry if I overstepped with my words,” the man seems to have guessed the course of his thoughts, “I simply thought it appropriate to emphasize that Lady Rhaena can be an important ally of the Crown.”

“Yes, I've heard that,” he responds almost with a growl.

Lannister does not give up. “Look at her, my prince,” the man points with his glass to the center of the dance floor, where Rhaena is dancing with a knight of House Whent, “Everyone likes her, they seem to want to please her and seek her approval.”

Aemond doesn't respond, just watches his cousin take the knight's hand and walk around him, smile wide and face clearly rosy.

“Did you know that Lady Blackwood is a Tully by birth?”

"Was she?"

“Now you are here, at her party, and this could be the beginning of a path of more… friendly relations between the Crown and the Riverlands”

“My brother Daeron has already managed to reaffirm our authority with the Tullys”

“Perhaps, and I hope his intervention has a lasting effect, but it doesn't hurt to cultivate this new connection with such an influential lady.”

Aemond's irritation grows. Rhaena had told him practically the same thing, as had his mother. He was a prince, he didn't need anyone's approval, everyone should rather seek his. Of course, he holds regards for the most noble and important houses, but their representatives, with few exceptions, were so boring or idiotic that he gave up maintaining any relationship with them.

And not to mention the ladies. Most of them seemed to shy away from his presence as they found him too intimidating. Or that's what he preferred to think. Sometimes it was better to convince himself of such reasoning rather than to face their curious or pitiful looks when they noticed the patch and the scar.

Vhagar. He has Vhagar. And he doesn't need anyone else.

“Lady Rhaena can be very useful. Your great-grandmother, Queen Alysanne, understood well the importance of sweetening the ears of certain relevant people in the kingdom. She and the old king found the charisma they possessed very advantageous because they knew that they could not conquer everything with fire and blood."

“Thank you, Lord Tyland, I know the history of my house well,” he replies coldly.

Lannister sips from his wine glass and nods, “Take advantage of what Lady Rhaena can give you, my prince. More than just heirs, benefit from her popularity and use it to help the Crown further cement its power. It is the smartest thing you can do, after all, why are marriages if not beneficial?”

Aemond ponders his words as he drinks from his cup. He must admit that Lannister's last point is valid. Their future union, like all of the noble houses of the kingdom, is one of convenience. He might as well use Rhaena to his liking. Use the… what had she called it? Social influence? Entirely for his convenience.

As his gaze searches for Rhaena again, his eye falls upon the dark-haired women. This time, however, he manages to see their faces without problem. A lump forms in his throat as he recognizes them, “What are they doing here?”

Lannister follows the direction of his gaze, “They are invited to your wedding, my prince.”

Aemond snorts indignantly, “Did you think it was appropriate to invite my former betrothed and her sisters to my wedding?”

Tyland has the grace to look uncomfortable and shift in his chair, “They are the queen's sisters, their father is the lord of the Stormlands, it would have been rude not to.”

Aemond empties his wine glass, his gaze turning away from the women. Their presence in the Fortress is already beginning to make him uncomfortable. Seeing Floris Baratheon was surely going to bring up the issue of the broken betrothal again, the disgrace he had caused by breaking his word and starting a relationship with the witch of Harrenhall. His hands clench into fists. The rumors would certainly start again. If they had ever stopped.

“Perhaps it would be prudent to converse with the Lady Floris and offer your apology, my prince.”

Prudent. Yes of course. Aemond makes a disdainful little noise, but deep down he knows that Lannister is right. And he knows his mother will probably ask him to do the same.

“Maybe later,” he replies simply.

Lannister does not insist because the music stops and Lady Blackwood speaks again, inviting everyone present to offer their donations to the Faith.

Several of the guests, most of them men who are heads of their houses, instruct their servants to leave valuable-looking chests on a long table placed on the other side of the room.

“Lady Blackwood chose the right moment to stop the music,” says Rhaena, who has returned to the table and sits next to him, grimacing, “These shoes are not comfortable at all.”

“Was there a need to dance with half the attendees?” he asks coldly

His voice amazes her, but Rhaena shakes her head, “I like to dance,” she responds simply before picking up a glass of wine and taking a few sips.

Aemond watches her out of the corner of his eye. Her heated cheeks, her heavy breathing and the droplets of sweat beading her forehead. The prince suddenly wonders if his skin feels warmer than usual to the touch.

“You are a great dancer, Lady Rhaena,” Tyland says.

“Thank you, Lord Lannister,” she smiles kindly at him.

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go offer my contribution to the Faith.”

The Master of Coin leaves them and Aemond shifts in his chair, moving a little closer to Rhaena, “You did not mention this part when you told me about the party.”

“I guess I forgot,” she shrugs, but giggles and then shakes her head, as if to clear her mind.

Aemond can't help but ask, “What is it?”

Rhaena bites her lip for a moment, “I just remembered something Marianne's aunt told her and she repeated to me,” Aemond looks at her expectantly, “Basically that this is just a show for the court to clear their conscience by offering money to the Faith in exchange for forgiveness”

“If so, the court has many sins to atone for,” he responds, looking at the long line of gifts.

“Oh you have no idea,” she repeats with another giggle.

Aemond raises an eyebrow in her direction, and Rhaena bites her lip again, as if debating whether to continue or not. At last her resolve gives way, and she moves closer to her cousin, speaking softly, “Lady Rosby, for example.”

“What about her?”

“Her dress is much looser than the ones she usually wears, they say she hides a growing belly under it, and that is why she and Lord Manderly's son had to rush the wedding.”

"That would be…"

“And Lord Fossoway,” she doesn't let him finish, “The entire Court whispers about his shameful behavior and his fondness for the establishments on the Street of Silk. And there is also Lord Grafton's youngest son, who has been squandering his fortune on gambling and dog fighting.”

“How do you know all this?”

“People tell me these things,” she responds matter-of-factly with a shrug.

Aemond remembers Lord Tyland's words from a few minutes ago. Maybe it is a good idea to use his cousin and all the knowledge she is clearly accumulating.

“We should contribute too,” he says after a few seconds, pointing to the table full of presents.

“Yes, probably so,” she admits.

“Take care to find something appropriate to offer to the Faith. I will let you search the royal treasury for something worthy of our family.”

His words have the desired effect on Rhaena, who at first seems amazed, but then clearly pleased with the task he gives her. Aemond congratulates himself internally. Putting his cousin's skills to work, subtly directing them toward appropriate and convenient causes, would surely be simple.

“Will you really let me take care of such matter?”

“If it's a lot of work and you're not willing…”

“No, no, I'll be happy to do it,” she is quick to respond, “Thank you, cousin.”

Her smile widens and her violet eyes shine with contained emotion. Aemond feels his heart skip a beat when she gently squeezes his hand for just a few seconds.

Lady Blackwood interrupts the moment by announcing that the performance of some famous puppeteers is about to begin. The guests then disperse, some heading towards the stage Aemond had noticed upon entering the hall, and others remaining in small groups as they chat.

“We should go, the show will start soon,” Rhaena tells him.

“Not exactly my kind of fun.”

“You cannot sit here for the entire party, cousin, it doesn't reflect well on the guests of honor,” she responds, standing up, “Come, they come from the free cities, I assure you they are better than the ones they have here.”

Aemond ends up accepting. Besides, Tyland Lannister still hasn't returned and he doesn't feel like talking to anyone else.

***

A renewed round of laughter and applause echoes through the room.

Rhaena also joins in the cheers for the comedians. Beside her, Aemond remains almost stoic. She gets the impression that he hasn't enjoyed the show too much.

And why would you care if such is the case? She wonders as the men come out from backstage and greet the attendees.

It is been a splendid afternoon. She has danced and laughed as much as she hoped to since she found out about the party. She has met new lords of Westeros, new ladies who would perhaps become future friends, and has shared slightly snide comments with Marianne about potential suitors and various ladies' dress choices.

“We should go listen to the bard that Lady Blackwood hired,” proposes her friend, who walks beside her.

“Will you come with us, cousin?” she turns to Aemond. He grimaces in her direction and Rhaena smiles, “Yeah, I figured as much.”

Aemond simply nods in their direction and she watches him return to the table, where he joins the conversation with Tyland Lannister and Lord Hayford.

Rhaena links her arm with Marianne and they go in the direction of where a group, mostly women, has gathered to listen to the bard.

“Lady Rhaena”

The voice of a tall young woman with very black hair and deep blue eyes stops her. Rhaena offers her a kind smile as they walk towards her.

“Lady Baratheon,” she greets.

“It is an honor to finally meet you, cousin,” the young woman offers a sideways smile, “I hope I can call you that, considering we share ancestors.”

“Of course,” Rhaena nods and continues, “This is Marianne Westerling, my friend and lady-in-waiting.”

“My pleasure, Lady Westerling. I am Floris Baratheon.”

“Lady Floris,” Marianne greets, “I thought I saw your sisters here as well.”

“Indeed,” Floris steps away for a few moments and returns with two other young women with similar features, “These are Cassandra and Maris, my older sisters.”

After the usual pleasantries, Rhaena doesn't know what to say. She is usually very good in social situations, but something in the look of the Baratheon girls does not offer her much confidence, “Cousins, I would like…”

“I am sorry, Lady Rhaena, we should have started our conversation by congratulating you,” it is Floris who speaks again.

“Congratulating me?”

“For your wedding to Prince Aemond,” Maris responds.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Rhaena nods, “Thank you.”

“I assume you are aware that he was betrothed to me at the beginning of the war,” Floris rests her blue eyes on Rhaena’s.

“I heard it, yes.”

“He made quite an impression when he arrived at Storm's End offering our father a betrothal.”

“I imagine so,” she responds, trying to sound curt. She doesn't know where this conversation is going.

“Of course, being four of us, he had a difficult choice before him,” Floris takes a step towards Rhaena, openly examining her figure from head to toe, “He kissed the four of us and choose me.”

"What?" Her question sounds like a gasp.

“Prince Aemond kissed the four of us on the lips,” Floris repeats, her eyes shining with malice, “My kiss clearly stood out above my sisters' because I was the chosen one.”

Rhaena does not know what to say. What is she supposed to answer? She is under the impression that the Baratheon girls are only seeking to torment her with their words. But she could not care less. What difference does it make if Aemond has kissed them all?

Despite saying that to herself, a bitter feeling runs through her body and her gaze wanders to the main table for a moment.

“You clearly didn't stand out too much if the prince ended up breaking the betrothal.”

It is Marianne who responds, squeezing Rhaena’s hand affectionately.

“That is not what happened!” Floris hisses.

“Cousins,” Rhaena cuts in, clearing her throat, “I am glad you could come in time for my wedding. “It will be a pleasure for the prince and for me to have you all here with us.” Her eyes land on Floris's.

“We came to see our sister,” Maris replies.

“But perhaps I will take the opportunity to reminisce about old times with the prince,” Floris smiles wryly, “After what I heard about him, I will surely be able to visit him tonight in his chambers and…”

“Enough, Floris,” Cassandra interrupts, “I am sorry, Lady Rhaena, excuse my sisters' impertinence.”

“Don't worry, Lady Cassandra, now, if you'll excuse me.”

Rhaena walks with Marianne until they make their way through the crowd and listens to the bard, although she cannot concentrate on the man's songs.

"Are you okay?" Her friend asks quietly, looking at her with concern.

“Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Her voice sounds squeaky, so she clears her throat.

“Those Baratheon girls were very rude,” Marianne snorts.

“They are just…”

Rhaena doesn't finish. She doesn't know what to say. What did Floris feel? Jealousy? Rage? Disappointment?

“I know, they shouldn't have talked to you like that anyway, they clearly don't know their place,” anger is clear in her friend's voice.

“It is okay, it does not matter,” she assures her, “Let's forget their words, they just said stupid things.”

But said is easier than done, and even though she tries to enjoy the bard's art, her mind keeps repeating the words of Floris Baratheon. Was it true that Aemond had kissed them? Contrary to her will, the image of the Baratheon sisters standing next to the prince, waiting to be kissed, appears in her mind. A shiver runs through her body and, angrily, Rhaena directs her gaze to the sisters, who are whispering across the room.

“Let’s just go, we should eat something,” Marianne tells her a while later.

Rhaena nods and they say goodbye near the high table. Sighing, she walks over to her seat and helps herself to pies and fruit dipped in honey, grateful that Aemond pays no attention to her and continues conversing with the other council members.

More harshly than she should, Rhaena spears a piece of fig and puts it in her mouth. Although it tastes good, she does not particularly enjoy the flavor, but instead eats mechanically until her appetite it’s settled.

"What is the matter?"

Aemond's voice takes her by surprise. Rhaena turns to him, who looks at her with a frown.

“Do not know what you mean”

“Did the bard perform so poorly that you are suddenly in a bad mood?”

Rhaena bites her tongue to avoid responding with a curse. And to avoid asking what she really wants to know. Was it true that he had kissed them all? Thinking about his kiss, her eyes drift helplessly to Aemond's lips. Long, thin lips, what would his lips taste like? The thought surprises her and she looks away from his face, drinking from her glass of wine and trying to push those thoughts from her mind.

Fucking Floris Baratheon, she thinks to herself.

Fortunately, the music resumes and Rhaena excuses herself to go dancing. It doesn't take long for her to find a dance partner, so she tries to focus only on the beat of the music, although she feels her cousin's gaze on her at times, watching her as is his habit.

The songs follow each other in a cheerful rhythm and she continues dancing and jumping, although her movements are rather mechanical, her good spirits from a while ago spoiled. Rhaena excuses herself and heads to the side of the dance floor, suddenly feeling dizzy and fanning herself with her hand, internally cursing her tight corset.

On the other side Marianne catches her attention and questions her with her gaze, so Rhaena makes an appeasing gesture with her hand, not wanting her friend to stop dancing with Ser Simon Dondarrion, the handsome knight who seems very fond of Marianne.

“May I, Lady Rhaena?”

The presence of Lord Tarly, who extends his hand toward her, is unexpected. Rhaena, still not having fully caught her breath, considers rejecting the man, but in the end gives up.

“With pleasure, my lord.”

The man smiles good-naturedly and guides her back to the dance floor, “What do you think of King's Landing so far, Lady Rhaena?”

“The city has a particular charm”

Lord Tarly widens his smile, “Yes, I agree, although the lands of the Reach are, in my opinion, the most beautiful in all of Westeros.”

Lord Tarly, who is not exactly an old man, but who does have a fairly prominent belly, moves slowly, so Rhaena keeps up with him and tries to calm herself while breathing slowly.

“I do not doubt it, my lord, although I could not say that I’ve been in that part of the realm.”

“You should visit us, my lady, it would be an honor to welcome you to Horn Hill.”

“Perhaps once my dragon is bigger, I will ride on her back and take upon your word, Lord Tarly.”

“You would do well, the Reach is your ally,” he replies, “You have many friends in our lands.” The man fixes his brown eyes on her and Rhaena has the impression that his words hide a greater meaning. “We loyal men do not forget that the iron throne belonged to Queen Rhaenyra and her offspring.”

A lump forms in Rhaena's throat, who just studies the man intently.

“Fear not, Lady Rhaena, as I told you, we are loyal to…”

“The crown belongs to my cousin,” she cuts him off, trying to measure her words, “Aegon is king and I am to marry Prince Aemond in a few days.”

“A true disgrace, if I may,” he replies, “Your father, Prince Daemon, would never have permitted such an affront to his daughter.”

“My father is dead, my lord. The war is over"

The man stares at her again before speaking, “As I told you, Lady Rhaena, the throne belongs to the offspring of Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

The girl wants to reply, she wants to tell him that such offspring does not exist, that her brothers are all dead... but she prefers to remain silent.

“Fear not,” Lord Tarly repeats, “Lady Jeyne is a good friend and ally. We are watching over you, don't forget it.”

Rhaena is grateful for the song to end and she gives a quick bow before turning her back on the man.

Her head begins to pound as hard as her heart as she makes her way through the guests. Her hands, suddenly drenched in cold sweat, are almost shaking. What had the man implied? What did he intend to achieve with his words? Was this perhaps a game played by the dowager queen to test her loyalty? Rhaena looks around her, but no one seems to pay her much attention. Not even Aemond, who continues conversing with Lord Lannister.

Her words sounded too much like Lady Jeyne's, a small voice inside her whispers.

She had not wanted to think more about her conversation with the Lady of the Vale before she left the Eyrie, Rhaena did not want to know more about wars or confrontations. She just wanted peace. She did not want…

“Cousin, wait, please.”

Cassandra Baratheon grabs her arm, stopping her.

“Lady Cassandra, please, I do not wish to continue our conversation from earlier,” her voice sounds harsher than she intended, but she does not care.

“Please allow me to apologize on behalf of my sisters,” insists the young woman, “The way they expressed themselves was embarrassing.”

“Even so, you let them expand as they pleased for a long time before shutting them up.”

“Excuse me, Lady Rhaena, I know I was wrong,” she admits.

Rhaena taps her foot on the floor, eager to get out of the conversation, “Very well, you need not say more, Lady Cassandra, I will forget your sisters' impertinence.”

“I would like to assure you that we have no intention of tormenting you, we came here not only for your wedding,” Cassandra seems not to notice Rhaena's unwillingness to continue talking, “But also to see our sister Ellyn. We have been very concerned about her health”

Her words manage to calm her down a little. She had not considered the young queen into the picture, “Of course, it is understandable. I hope that Queen Ellyn continues to improve, surely your presence here will speed up her recovery."

“This is what we hope for, Lady Rhaena.”

There is a moment of silence between the two. Rhaena nods and prepares to leave, when she speaks again.

“And furthermore, I assure you that I will keep a close eye on Floris. She won't dare visit the prince at all. My sister likes to talk, but she wouldn't dare disgrace our father's name in such a way."

Perfect, Rhaena thinks, just what she needed. Cassandra Baratheon reminding her of such an unpleasant comment.

“Or disgrace you, at the same time. It is punishment enough, I believe, having to marry the prince."

"I beg your pardon?" Rhaena can't believe her ears

“Don't get me wrong, cousin, I don't mean to offend you. I only verbalize what the majority in the kingdom think. Prince Aemond is hardly a good choice for a husband, a vow-breaker as well as a kinslayer.”

Rhaena knows that well, but at hearing the words from Cassandra Baratheon's mouth, it is not sympathy that is born inside her, rather suspicion and anger.

“You shouldn't say such things about the prince,” she replies.

She seems oblivious to her comment, “Plus there is the matter of his appearance. I know it wasn't her fault because he was just a child,” Cassandra smiles at her and Rhaena is able to notice the malice in her expression, “But that grotesque scar deforms his face. And that eyepatch is in such bad taste,” the girl shudders, “A shame that a beauty like you is wasted on Aemond Targaryen.”

For the second time that afternoon, Rhaena doesn't know what to say. She is not entirely convinced that she heard correctly the words that came out of her cousin's mouth.

“I see that you are as malicious as your sisters,” she finally says, her voice hard because of the displeasure she feels inside her, “Be careful, Lady Cassandra, control your tongue or you will end up facing the consequences.”

The Baratheon girl's expression falters for a few moments and Rhaena feels a hint of discomfort, but she simply glares at her before striding in the opposite direction.

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#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #ao3fic #aemond kinslayer #prince aemond #resentment #rhaena targaryen #rhaena of pentos #drama #angst #romance #house targaryen #enemies to friends to lovers

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