#I am not a small lady but I am sure he would tower over me irl and hoo boy... I am weak...

[urbosasabs]

He. He's sooo... Big...

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Seeds of Manipulation

Summary - Aegon and Aemond tease their nephew Jace about his impending marriage to a Dornish woman. When she arrives, she faces Jace's cold indifference and his uncle's provocative questions. Realising his grave mistake, Jace must now find a way to undo the damage.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2044

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"I hear you are to wed a Dornish woman," Aegon said with a smirk, drawing out each word with deliberate taunt. He leaned casually against the ornate chair in the dimly lit chamber, his demeanor relaxed yet his eyes alight with mischief. 

Jace stood opposite him, a mix of curiosity and unease flickering across his face.

Aemond, the younger of the two brothers, couldn't resist adding to the teasing. His voice carried a conspiratorial tone as he chimed in, "You know what they say about women from Dorne?"

"Passionate, hot-blooded, and especially open and free in their relationships," Aegon continued smoothly, his smirk widening as he sensed the growing worry in Jace's expression.

It was a performance, a theatrical dance of words meant to provoke and amuse in equal measure.

Aegon, ever the instigator, couldn't resist further stoking the flames. "Do not worry, nephew," he mockingly reassured, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "As your uncles, we will be there to guide you, to help you understand how women like that are to be tamed."

Aemond, perhaps sensing his brother's theatrical cue, stepped closer to Jace, his voice lowering to a foreboding whisper.

"Sleep well, nephew," he murmured, his tone laced with an eerie certainty. "Her arrival tomorrow will surely bring a lifetime of sleepless nights."

It was a parting shot, delivered with a dramatic flourish that left Jace momentarily speechless, contemplating what awaited him.

With that, the brothers left the chambers, satisfied with the seeds of anxiety they had planted.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

I had heard tales of the splendour and majesty of King's Landing, but nothing could have prepared me for the grandiosity of the Red Keep. Its towering walls and labyrinthine corridors seemed crafted to awe and intimidate alike.

Stepping from the carriage, the warm sun cast a golden glow over the bustling courtyard, filling me with a flutter of excitement. Today marked the occasion I would meet my betrothed, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.

My parents were quickly ushered away to meet with his, leaving me alone with only my handmaiden by my side. Clad in flowing fabrics and jewels from my homeland, I walked through the gardens with measured steps, my feet sinking slightly into the soft, dew-kissed grass.

Near a fountain, I spotted him amidst a small group of companions who whispered and giggled among themselves. His brown locks caught the sunlight, lending him an ethereal aura as his eyes scanned the courtyard with detached interest. 

He was handsome, there was no denying it, handsome in a way that made my heart flutter despite my resolve.

Approaching, he turned his gaze towards me, his expression unreadable. "Lady Martell," he greeted with a curt nod, his voice cool and detached.

"Prince Jacaerys," I replied politely, offering a respectful curtsey. "It is an honour to finally make your acquaintance."

He gave a brief, dismissive smile before turning back to his companions. "Yes, well, I trust your journey was not too arduous."

Suppressing a frown, I replied, "It was lengthy, but I am grateful for the hospitality extended."

"Of course," he murmured, his attention already drifting away. "If you'll excuse me."

And just like that, he walked away, leaving me standing there amidst the curious gazes of his companions. I felt a pang of disappointment and confusion. He had barely acknowledged me, let alone shown any interest in getting to know me. 

Was this how our marriage was to be, a mere formality, devoid of any warmth or connection?

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"She is quite captivating," Aemond remarked, his voice carrying across the garden where he sat under a large oak tree with Aegon and Jace. 

Their eyes followed me as I laughed with my handmaidens, the sound mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.

"Indeed she is," Aegon agreed casually, taking a leisurely sip from his cup. His eyes, a blend of appraisal and amusement, followed my every movement.

"The jewels, the silks, the daring cut of her dress, all promising signs, wouldn't you say?" His tone was teasing, laced with a hint of admiration for the boldness and allure that seemed to surround me.

Jace swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their words like a lead ball in his chest. He couldn't deny the truth in their observation, that I held a beauty that stirred something within him, despite his efforts to remain aloof.

Seeing me sitting there laughing among others, he felt a sudden pang of hurt pierce through him. The sound of my laughter, so carefree and genuine, contrasted sharply with the turmoil he felt inside.

He hadn't anticipated that he would regret his earlier dismissal of me so deeply. The weight of his earlier words and actions now seemed unbearably foolish as he watched me from a distance, wishing he could turn back time.

"She is rather striking," he admitted reluctantly, his voice barely above a murmur. 

Aegon and Aemond exchanged knowing glances, their smirks evident as they clapped him on the shoulder before rising to approach me.

"Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond," I greeted evenly as they seated themselves opposite me. 

Despite their jovial demeanour, I sensed an undercurrent of intent beneath their charm.

"Lady Martell, do tell us," Aegon began smoothly, his voice laced with a hint of mischief, "are all the women in Dorne as beautiful as you?"

Heat rose to my cheeks at the unabashed flattery, my eyes instinctively seeking out Jace, who watched the exchange with guarded interest.

"You flatter me, my prince," I replied coolly, masking the unease that simmered beneath my composed exterior. 

"We hear the people of Dorne are quite... free-spirited," Aemond interjected, his tone suggestive. 

The implication hung heavy in the air, and it dawned on me their words were not merely idle curiosity but a deliberate attempt to test my mettle, to gauge my reaction. I was well aware of their game now, the subtle probing, the veiled insinuations meant to unsettle and provoke.

Turning slightly to my handmaidens, I saw their heads bowed, their discomfort palpable. 

It was clear they understood the precariousness of our situation and that this was not a casual conversation but a calculated manoeuvre.

I returned my attention to Aegon and Aemond, meeting their expectant gazes with a steely resolve. 

"Indeed, Dorne is known for its spirited culture," I replied evenly, choosing my words carefully. "We value freedom and independence, traits that define our people."

Aegon's smirk widened, savouring each flicker of discomfort he caused, each slight tremor in my voice. His demeanour was unabashedly provocative, leaning forward with exaggerated interest as his eyes shamelessly roamed, causing an uncomfortable shift in my posture.

"Ah, independence," he drawled, his voice carrying a teasing edge. "Tell us, Lady Martell, how does such independence manifest itself in matters of... affection?" 

The words were loaded with innuendo, his tone challenging and amused, knowing full well the implications of his inquiry.

Aemond joined in with a low chuckle, his voice adding a darker hue to the conversation. 

"Yes, are the tales true? Do Dornish women truly embrace passion and love with such abandon?" His eyes flickered with mischievous curiosity.

Their words, laced with presumption, were a direct challenge to my dignity and honour. Anger boiled within me, but I maintained a composed facade, though barely. 

I shot a sharp glance towards Jace, silently pleading for his support, but he remained frustratingly silent, his expression betraying a mix of discomfort and indecision.

"You mistake our customs for scandalous tales," I retorted, my voice now tinged with restrained fury. "Dorne's ways are founded on respect and mutual understanding, not fodder for your amusement."

Aegon's amusement faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. 

"Come now, Lady Martell," he persisted, his tone more pointed. "Surely you can provide us with a glimpse into the... freedom that defines your people?"

Aemond's chuckle at his brother's words grated on my nerves, pushing me further towards the edge of my patience. 

"I will not entertain your disrespectful curiosity," I shot back, my words sharp and cutting. "Nor will I dignify your insinuations with a response."

Their smirks wavered, replaced by a tense silence that hung heavy in the air. 

Aegon and Aemond exchanged a glance, the unspoken understanding passing between them. They had expected compliance or embarrassment, not defiance.

With a curt nod of dismissal, I rose from my seat, every movement deliberate and controlled. 

"Excuse me," I said coolly, unable to hide the sharp edge in my voice. "I have matters to attend to."

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away briskly, the echoes of their conversation fading behind me. My steps were fueled by a mixture of anger and resolve, a determination to assert my dignity and worth in the face of their disrespect.

As I moved farther from their presence, I felt a rush of relief mingled with lingering frustration. 

They had tested me, sought to diminish me with their crude jests and probing questions but I had stood my ground, refusing to be belittled or objectified.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"Lady Martell," a voice called out as I sat in the library, idly flipping through the pages of a book. 

"Prince Jacaerys," I replied with a hint of detachment, not particularly interested in whatever he had to say now.

"Please, if you will allow me a moment of your time," he pleaded softly, his tone earnest. I sighed inwardly, closing my book and reluctantly looking up to meet his gaze.

He stood before me, a conflicted expression on his face that betrayed a mix of remorse and determination. 

"I must apologize for the behaviour of my uncles," he began, his voice carrying a sincerity that caught me off guard. "Their words were out of line, and I understand if you feel offended or disrespected."

I regarded him coolly, the memory of Aegon and Aemond's probing questions still fresh in my mind. 

"They questioned not only my character but my dignity and disrespected my heritage" I stated flatly, my tone tinged with lingering frustration. "I cannot wed someone who shares those beliefs."

Jace shook his head quickly, his expression earnest as he met my gaze. 

"You misunderstand," he insisted firmly. "Their words were inappropriate and fueled by misguided jest. I do not share their views, nor do I condone their behaviour."

His words made me pause, uncertainty flickering briefly in my eyes. I had expected defensiveness or excuses, not this unexpected show of contrition from him.

"I find that hard to believe," I replied sceptically, my voice softening slightly despite myself.

He took a step closer, his sincerity palpable. 

"Lady Martell, I assure you," he continued, his voice earnest. "I hold you in the highest regard. What my uncles said does not reflect my beliefs or how I view you."

I searched his eyes for any hint of deception, but all I found was a genuine earnestness that resonated within me. Slowly, I nodded, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. 

"Very well," I conceded quietly. "But know that I will not tolerate such disrespect in the future."

Jace nodded solemnly, his expression grave. "You have my word," he affirmed, his voice steady. "I will ensure that you are treated with the utmost respect and dignity."

With a nod of acknowledgement, I returned his gaze evenly, reassured by his pledge. As I turned back to my book, Jace remained for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.

"Lady Martell," he said finally, breaking the silence, "I hope that in time you will see the sincerity of my words. The bond we are to forge is important to me, not just politically, but personally."

His unexpected admission caught me off guard once more.

"And now," he said softly, reaching into a hidden pocket within his cloak, "a token of my sincerity." He extended his hand towards me, revealing a delicate lilac flower nestled within his palm. "I had heard that lilacs are your favourite."

I hesitated, my heart softening at the unexpected gesture. The flower was indeed my favourite. It was a small, thoughtful gesture, a glimmer of Jace's effort to bridge the gap between us.

"Thank you," I murmured sincerely, accepting the flower with a gentle touch. Its fragrance enveloped me, a subtle reminder of his genuine intentions.

He smiled softly, a hint of relief touching his features. "I hope this marks a new beginning for us, Lady Martell," he said earnestly.

I nodded, a faint smile playing on my lips. "As do I, Prince Jacaerys."

A/n - I need that dress in the image above like now 

[hypewinter]

Hal bent down as the little girl approached him. Even then, he still managed to tower over her with how small she was.

"Hey there little lady," he said. "Anything I can help you with this fine evening?"

The little girl looked at him anxiously, fiddling with her hands. Ok so not a nervous fan. Hal immediately switched to serious mode, scanning the crowd for anyone who could be her parents. He didn't see anyone running up to the two of them or even so much as keeping a watchful eye from a distance.

"Is something the matter?" Hal questioned, making sure to keep his voice even and calm.

The girl continued fidgeting, her big blue eyes scanning from side to side. Finally she spoke. "You wiff da space po-eece yes? Not da am-ear-ree-ca one?"

Hal smiled at the girl. "Yes, I'm with the space police." Honestly that was oversimplifying the Corps a little but he had long since gotten to citizens calling him a space cop.

The girl offered up a small nervous smile of her own. "So you won't tell da gov-ment what I tell you wight?"

Hal was on high alert now. Just what was this little girl trying to tell him? "I won't tell. I promise," he said after a second.

The girl broke into a big smile at this. "Really? Dis way den." She started tugging Hal along and he began to follow.

"Where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"You see," was all she replied.

Hal was led down a couple different alleyways and was beginning to think he was walking into a trap when they reached an abandoned building. The girl dashed in and up the old rusted stairs, with Hal following closely behind her.

If this really is a trap, I'll never hear the end of it from Batman, he thought morbidly as he cleared the last step. Instead of finding himself facing an ambush however, he saw a boy curled up on an old mattress. The girl was already by his side as Hal approached.

"Don wowee Danny, I got help. Like I said I would," he caught the little girl whispering as he knelt down next to the boy. He had to have been older than the girl. Three years older maybe? Yet he was still so small. Hal took sight of his condition. He was in pain. That much was certain by his little face scrunched up in agony and his quiet moans. He was also sweating profusely. His raven black hair sticking to his forehead. Fever maybe?

Hal continued his observations as he scanned down the boy's body until he got to his stomach. The boy was clutching it and Hal could make out blood bleeding through from underneath. Oh no.

He quickly yet carefully removed the boy's arm to get a better look at the wound. The kid let out a groan as his arm was peeled away. Hal couldn't help but thank Oa for all his training that helped prevent him from letting out a gasp.

The boy's chest was covered in blood. Dark red mixed with flecks of green soaked through his shirt and there were bandages that had been amateurishly tied around the wound.

"How did this happen?" Hal asked, turning back to the girl. He did his best to keep his tone as gentle as possible.

Her smile was gone now, and her eyes welled up with tears. "He pwotected me," she said. "Dey wanted to huwrt us. Dey shot at us. Danny pwotected me."

Anger boiled within Hal. Who would shoot at these children? They were only little kids. If what the girl had said earlier was anything to go off of, the answer had something to do with the government. He would have to take care of that later though. For now, this boy needed medical attention.

"Let's get Danny to a hospital," Hal said resolutely, as he got up.

"No!" the little girl screeched. "No has-pee-tail. Too dan-er-us!"

"But he needs-" Hal started but then he met the girl's eyes. There was abject fear in them. As if going to the hospital would be a death sentence for both children. Where else were they supposed to go though? The boy- Danny needed medical attention stat. That much was certain.

Hal paused. There was one place. He sighed. Batman was going to kill him for this.

"Okay okay. No hospital. But what about space?"

"Space?" the girl repeated.

Hal nodded.

The little girl smiled. "Danny lobes space!"

"Well then. That's perfect."

Hal constructed a new bed for the boy, carefully easing him onto it before putting a protective dome around both children. The little girl giggled as he lifted them up. He then turned to the wall where he created a giant hammer to knock it down. Then they were off. Flying higher and higher, towards the atmosphere. As the Watchtower got closer in sight, Hal couldn't help but groan. Taking civilians to the Watchtower? Oh yeah, Batman was definitely going to kill him.

[scriberye]

GIRLDAD!GUILLIMAN ────────── 🌿

⚠️ fluff

“Where is everyone?” Guilliman muttered, his brow furrowing at the unnatural quiet that had fallen over the fortress. The silence gnawed at him, this wasn’t the silence of intense focus, but something else. Trouble.

Then he heard it — the faint sound of laughter. Guilliman turned sharply toward the sound and followed it through the halls until he came upon a courtyard.

There, beneath a tree, sat a gathering of Ultramarines, each hunched over with their heads bowed, struggling with massive hands to weave delicate stems and flowers into crowns. Vibrant flowers of every color and shape lay scattered about on the grass like spoils of war.

And at the center of it all was a little girl with hair as golden as his own. His daughter. Rhea.

The sight made Guilliman pause. And for a moment, he said nothing.

He watched as one marine — Chairon, he noted — leaned closer to his daughter, delicately holding his crown of flowers out for her approval. She examined it with tiny hands before praising him for his skill and a little pat on the head. And Guilliman felt a twinge of jealousy. It was absurd. He was a Primarch, yet there he was, wishing for Rhea to shower him with her adoring attention.

She looked up then, her eyes meeting his, and she smiled — ah! He wanted to cry with joy! Surely, his daughter’s adorable smile would put a crack even in the hardest of hearts.

“Father!” she cried out, climbing to her feet. “Father! Come look!”

Guilliman had no choice and joined the little gathering. He knelt down, careful not to disturb the flowers and stems. Though he still towered over his daughter, she was undeterred, standing up on her toes and holding up the crown of flowers she had made.

“See! It’s a crown! This one is for you!”

“For me? I am honored, my lady,” Guilliman chuckled as Rhea squealed and giggled. He bowed his head low enough for her to place the wreath on top of his head.

“Will you stay?” Rhea asked, her small voice tinged with the faintest note of disappointment. “I can teach you…”

And in that moment, Guilliman’s hearts clenched with a pain that cut deeper than any blaster bolt or chainsword. Had his duties truly stolen him away too often, that now his own daughter felt neglected? That she would hesitate to ask for his company? This would not do.

“Of course I will stay, my dear,” he said, settling himself on the grass. “I am in your care now, Lady Rhea.”

Rhea’s face brightened once more, and she scrambled to sit upon her father’s mighty lap. As he helped her get settled, his eyes fell upon the ring of flowers already crowning her little head. He paused.

“Who made this crown for you?”

His daughter looked up at him and declared with innocent pride, “Captain Cato made it! Isn’t it pretty?”

Guilliman’s gaze shifted toward Sicarius. “Indeed,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing. “It is quite well made… Cato.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sicarius cleared his throat and furiously busied himself with a new chain of flowers. The Codex Astartes certainly did not cover how to deal with a jealous father.

[actiniumwrites]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊

synopsis: you and neuvillette dance among the mechanical dancing robots, copellia and copellius, after a particularly stressful day

characters: neuvillette x gn!reader

wc: 1,066

warnings: fluff, a pinch of angst, reverse hurt/comfort, established relationships, some spoilers for neuvillette’s personality but no major spoilers for 4.0, this follows the theory that neuvillette is the dragon (i mean at this point, hyv is throwing it in our faces)

notes: i’ve had this idea since the trailer came out and i am very excited to be writing it! luckily neuvillette is kinda easy to write since he reminds me a lot of zhongli but in a better way? idk but i love him so so so so much. i actually had to cover my mouth while playing the quest because he made me smile so hard 💀

Little drops of rain dusted away from the wind, falling gently across your skin as you stepped outside of the Opera Epiclese, arm hooked around Neuvillette’s. At the sound of rain, his eyes raised toward the sky before back to the ground, sighing in frustration. Work had been particularly tasking lately, what with the latest homicide case that Lady Furina just couldn’t seem to take seriously. He didn’t need bad weather on top of everything else.

Shaking him out of his thoughts, you pulled him gently along, “Wanna go for a walk?”

“You know I hate to deny you your wishes, but this weather is not suited for walking, my dear,” he gently replied, pulling you back under the overhang and away from where the rain was falling. Of course. Even though he was the one who was not okay, he was still putting you before his own needs.

Your eyes flickered between his, observing the tiredness in them. Dark blue and purple bags formed under his eyes, his hair ever so slightly disheveled. The twinge of red in them made your heart ache, realizing he had been crying again. Who knew how long it had been since he had properly been able to take a break and go outside, enjoy the scenery, or even just breathe.

Making up your mind in an instant, you reached for your umbrella, quickly snapping it open and holding it above you both. Neuvillette quickly grabbed it from you and gently peeled your hands off of it.

Always the gentleman, you think to yourself.

He followed in your footsteps blindly, letting you take the lead during this outing. There was one place you had in mind, one that always seemed to bring you peace. You only hoped it would bring him peace as well, even if it only amounted to a little bit.

“We’re here,” you turned to him, smiling with a glimmer of hope in your eyes. You gestured your hand to the robots in front of you, waltzing around in the rain entirely free from the world around them.

Neuvillette set his eyes on the mechanical couple dancing in front of him, unable to stray his gaze from them, almost as if they were hypnotizing him, “Copellia and Copellius? I was unaware you often came to observe them.”

“I find a certain tranquility in them,” you said quietly, nudging his shoulder with yours and leaning into him a little more, “there’s just something about the way they dance. It’s mesmerizing really, especially when it rains.”

“I cannot say I disagree,” he hummed.

You both paused in your movements as you watched the scene in front of you. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, just letting the calm silence fall over you like the rain. There was a calming tune playing in the background, echoing from the phonograph broadcast towers by the Opera Epiclese. A classical tune you enjoyed, but one you never bothered to learn the name of.

Quietly, your hand reached up and took the umbrella from Neuvillette. His eyes met yours, alerted by the sudden touch of your hand against his. You gave him a small, but reassuring smile and placed the umbrella down on a nearby concrete ledge. Grabbing his gloved hand in yours, you eagerly pulled him toward where they danced.

“Are you sure?” He hurriedly asked, concerned for your health as the icy rain fell upon your skin, “I would hate for you to get sick.”

You hummed in reply, assuring him you would be okay. Neuvillette nodded back and held your hand a little tighter, pulling you into him so you could fall into step with the clockwork meka.

Back and forth, you both waltzed alongside them. One hand was raised in the air, intertwined with yours as the other pressed against your lower back, holding you close to him. Round and round, your footsteps fell in sync with his as you both danced along the robots. A few people had noticed, stopping by to stare in awe at the sight before carrying on with their days. It felt like hours had passed, but in truth, it had only been a mere ten minutes. When you were with one another, basking in each other’s presence, time just didn’t seem to exist.

And as the rain began falling particularly heavily, you felt your heart ache once more. Your head raised from the spot where it was just resting on his shoulder. Slowing your steps to a stop, you tenderly brush the ivory and blue strands of hair that covered his face off to the side, only to reveal a pool of tears gathering in your lover’s eyes.

Wordlessly, you swiped the ones that had escaped off of his face while a frown paints itself across your face. Placing your hands on either side of his face, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He reciprocated the action, pulling you closer to him with the hand that laid on your back, allowing the tears to flow in the presence of your comfort.

“I had no idea you were so skilled at dancing,” he whispered as his lips departed from yours, simultaneously swiping the tears with his hands. You softly laughed to yourself, hooking your arm in his as you began to leave the area.

“Well,” you started as you walked up the steps, pulling him along, “it isn’t like we often dance together. Not seriously anyway.”

“Maybe we should do this more often? Only if you would like to, of course.”

You nodded in agreement, turning back to face him, “To be honest, I always thought you weren’t really into this kind of stuff.”

A few strands of hair that had fallen over his face again were wiped by his hands as he answered, “I do…if it’s with you.”

When you glanced at him again, he was smiling. It was the first one you had seen in a long time — or rather, the first genuine one in a long time. His hands peeled off the soaking wet gloves that once adorned his hands before moving to grab your hand once more. And as you set off for home, hand in hand, you noticed the rain had stopped. The once gloomy skies were filled with the setting sun and an array of blues, reds, and oranges. As Neuvillette found his happiness again, so had the sky.

[the-fiction-witch]

I Like Him P6

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - (OC) Jaerra Targaryen [Daughter of Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce] Rating - 15 + Word Count - 1635

Jaerra strolled through the ancient, decaying godswoods of Harrenhal, surrounded by towering, gnarled trees. She was clad in one of her simple, small grey gowns, the fabric gently swaying as she moved. The afternoon sun cast dappled shadows on the ground, and the air was filled with the earthy scents of moss and fallen leaves. Despite the daily influx of men joining Daemon's army and the ceaseless construction efforts at Harrenhal, Jaerra sought relief in her solitary walk, hoping to find respite from the chaos and noise of the ongoing work. Unbeknownst to her, Oscar had quietly followed.

Oscar had caught a glimpse of Jaerra as she walked away and had impulsively decided to follow her, eager to engage her in conversation. However, as he shadowed her, he found himself unable to find the right words to call out or announce his presence, still feeling the warmth of the kiss she had planted on his cheek just days before. He struggled to articulate his emotions and remained silent, trailing her like a lost puppy or a fledgling dragon. Positioning himself discreetly by the stairs leading to the godswoods, he couldn't help but continue to observe her as she strolled, feeling somewhat intrusive but unable to tear himself away.

“Jaerra,” He confidently made himself known by speaking up and stepping into view. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, stood with an air of determination, and subtly puffed out his chest, exuding an aura of bravery.

“Afternoon Oscar,” As she turned to see him, a warm smile lit up her face. She couldn't help but chuckle softly as she noticed how he was trying to stand brave and tall for her. Walking over to him, she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, enjoying the sight of the blush that spread across his skin. “How can I help you, Lord Tully?” she asked,

“I was just well, I wanted to make sure to accompany you. Lots of very rough soldiers around the castle now, I wanted to make sure you’re safe.”

“I can take care of myself, Oscar,” She chuckled, “But your company is appreciated none the less,”

“I’m glad,” he smiled offering his hand,

She softly took his hand and gently intertwined their fingers,

He led her softly on a small stroll of the godswood, chatting quietly with each other about the work going on and the plans being made until Oscar turned the topic.

“I- I don’t often see you and his grace together?”

“No, I suppose not,” she softly sighed, “Daemon and I often don’t spend time together let alone speak, outside of the essential,”

“May I ask… why not?”

Jaerra gently sat herself down on one of the many fallen rocks, Oscar sat down beside her his knee brushing hers as their hands remained locked together, “I suppose it’s sort of always been that way,” she said, “What about your father?” She asked,

“Oh I-”

“It’s alright, forgive me. I shouldn’t have been so bold.”

“No, no it’s alright,” he smiled squeezing her hand softly, “I… didn’t know the man all that well,” he began, “He died a young man,”

“I’m sorry Oscar,” she softly squeezed his hand and did her best to be of comfort,

“I was merely a boy,”

“You’re still a boy,” she gently teased him,

He scoffed in mock offence, “My lady, I am Lord Paramount of the Riverlands and Lord of Riverrun,” he joked, “I assure you, I am a big, strong, man. Well skilled to protect you,”

“I’m sure you are Oscar,” She laughed,

“My grandsire… he was a good man, I loved him like a father. I suppose I had more time with him,” he softly smiled, “But I do cherish what little time I had with my father,”

“I don’t, I tend to dread most of the time with my father,” she replied,

“I understand,” he nodded, “I can’t say I blame you for such feelings Jaerra.”

“Would you tell me? About your father.”

“Of course,” Oscar smiled, “My father was a very kind man, he often tried to advise my grandsire on matters in Riverrun,” He softly smiled, “He would often tell tales about my mother, about Riverrun’s history, about our family,” He chuckled, “I remember, being scared one night. During a harsh storm with the rain pouring, the wind howling like a dire wolf, the trident’s waves tackling the walls of Riverrun… So I climbed down from my bed and scurried around the halls like a little mouse until I found my father's room. I crawled up into his bed and hid under his covers… but he tucked me in and told me stories until I fell asleep,”

Jaerra smiled softly, imagining little Oscar all frightened and wide-eyed like a little cute Tully fish.

“I wish I had him for longer…” He said sadly, “But I had my grandsire and he was kind to me, stern but kind all the same. He wanted me to grow up into a leader but… never stopped me being myself. The older I get the more I thank him for that,” He smiled, “Sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“No, no it’s so sweet.” She cooed, “I’m happy you have such nice memories of him, and of your Grandsire.”

“Don’t you have nice memories of Daemon? Anything at all?” He asked,

It took Jaerra a while to answer which only made Oscar feel worse for her, “I do have one… When Iēdar lilagon was first big enough to be ridden. Daemon came from Pentos to visit me on Caraxes. He took me out onto the Moores and taught me everything I needed to know, how to sit, how to chain myself into a saddle, how to control him, how to fly and spark fires it… it was nice,” she explained, “He didn’t have to do it, and I am grateful he took the time to.”

“Do you ever wish he’d spent more time with you, when you were young?”

“No, I think even if he tried I wouldn’t have been receptive to it. I don’t think he’d have made my childhood any better,” she answered,

He softly squeezed her hand in his and gave her a tender smile, “I’m so sorry, it breaks my heart to hear of the struggles and pain of your past my lady, and I know with the coming war, the days before us are not to be easy either. But if I make an offer?”

“An offer, My lord Tully?” she asked, her eyebrow slightly raised,

“When this war is over, and peace is restored to the kingdom and our lives…” He hesitated for a brief moment, feeling unable to hold her gaze. However, he summoned his courage and finally met her eyes with a determined look. “Come to Riverrun with me,” he offered,

Jaerra gasped, her eyes a little wide not having been expecting such an offer,

“Please do not think I’m imposing, but… Riverrun is my home and I promise you as long as I breathe and even beyond, you will have a home in my keep. Always a seat beside my hearth, always a warm bed under my roof I swear this to you. By the old gods and the new.” He told her, “You and Iēdar lilagon, both. I will happily take care of you both, and keep you safe, and if you wish never to see Daemon again I will mount a thousand scorpion bolts to the walls of Riverrun and bring down Caraxes the moment he so much as flies over my lands. You will never fear his words, never shudder under the glances of people, and every day I will tell you of all the things that make you so beautiful, and so priceless beyond your blood, your hair and your gender.” he cooed,

Jaerra sat for a second her chest slowly heaving unable to break contact with his eyes, processing all he had just come tumbling from his lips,

“Forgive me I -” He tried to correct himself and apologize,

Jaerra’s fingers softly gripped the edges of armour and without word or hesitation she cut him off with a soft press of her lips to his, her warm tender lips met his own in a quick but full kiss that.

Oscar’s eyes went wide, all the air left his lungs, and his heart stopped suddenly his whole body reeling from his first kiss, as his smooth lips met her own slightly chapped lips, he was screaming at the top of his lungs but outside merely silence.

She pulled back enough to have their eyes meet, “Sorry I just-” she began,

But Oscar pulled her own trick back on her, closing his eyes and meeting their lips once more, his hands moving to settle on her waist,

Jaerra kissed him back, her eyes fluttering shut, her hands relaxing to slide softly against the leather he wore, both slowly adjusting and finding the best ways to breathe while trying to keep their hearts at a decent pace, even if their minds filled with utter love and devotion.

They shared the kiss for what could have been hours, their lips gliding against one another treading the line before the kiss became more intimate.

Jaerra was the first to pull back, her eyes met Oscar’s and she couldn’t hold back a simple but warm smile almost laughing after the rush of emotions, heat flooding her face,

Oscar smiled back unable to break staring into her eyes with his own half-lidded eyes almost drunk on the adrenaline of their kiss, his hands slowly slid from her waist to take both her hands in his,

“Do- do you mean this?” She whispered,

“With all my heart Jaerra,” He smiled,

“… Then I gladly, accept your offer.” She nodded almost tearful,

He began to shed a small tear of joy too before he softly pulled her into another sweet and joyful kiss.

[babyhatesreality]

Daddy stucky x little reader where they in the avenger tower and she meet rocket and groot for the first time and rocket scares her but she finds groot extremely adorable 💕🍯🦝

HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE.... So this sparked two ideas, because Rocket is my absolute favorite non-human Avenger/Guardian/Marvel character. So may I present...both options :D

Head Canon for Adorable Groot

The whole team was gathered, ready to welcome the newest Avengers. Thor had met the Guardians somewhere off the planet (but no one would tell you how, no matter how many times you begged), and after an "adventure" (again, no one would tell you what that adventure entailed), but you were all gathered together to welcome them while they visited Earth.

You were holding Steve's hand, craning your neck to get a good look at them, as Fury and Thor led them into the big common room. Your breath caught as you spotted them for the first time. They...were...so...COOL. There was this big blue guy with red tattoos and this really pretty green lady with the biggest sword EVER and a regular looking guy with these super old headphones and another pretty blue lady but she looked like you shouldn't talk to her and a pretty lady with antennas and...

"Alright, alright, let's get this over with," you heard a voice growl out, but you couldn't see where it was coming from. You tugged on Steve's hand to get him to pick you up so you could see better, and he did. But just then, the source of the voice jumped onto the nearest table quickly, scaring you as you weren't expecting it. It was....

A stuffy??

"I wanna make one thing perfectly clear," the raccoon-like creature said, making your jaw drop. It TALKED?! "Yes, I talk. No, I'm not their pet. Yes, I'm the leader."

"No, no, everyone, he's not the leader..." the dude with the headphones tried to interrupt, but the raccoon kept going right over him.

"And I swear on every star in the Galaxy that if anyone tries to pet me, I will gnaw their hands off. Capeesh?" He looked around at the stunned group, then nodded once in satisfaction. "Good. Glad we got that out of the way." He hopped off the table. "Got anything to eat in this shit hole?"

You refused to let go of Steve after that, causing Bucky to make all the introductions. After a couple minutes of you keeping your head buried in Steve's shoulder, you heard the strangest voice you'd ever heard before.

"I am Groot."

"I am Steve Rogers."

You looked up carefully. Surely if Papa was talking to someone, they couldn't be all that scary. Your eyes went wide as saucers when you realized that there was a tree person in front of you, and that tree person talked. You gulped hard as Groot tilted his head at you, studying you. Finally, he spoke again.

"I am Groot," he said to you, then gave a small smile. And for some reason, that little grin made you feel okay.

"I am Katie!" you said in a soft voice and smiled back. Groot held his arm out in front of you. You watched in awe as a tiny white flower grew out of his forearm. He plucked it carefully, and handed it off to you. Instant Best Friend Mode Activated.

By the time the Guardians were ready to leave for the night, both Drax and Quill were trying to threaten Groot to let you down from the makeshift swing set he'd made of his own body for you. You were giggling like crazy, more than willing to listen to the grown ups, but every time you tried to slide down, Groot would stubbornly swing you back up in the air, causing you to scream with laughter again. He kept saying "I am Groot," which you were pretty glad you couldn't understand exactly what he was saying to Drax and Quill because judging by their reactions, it was a lot of no-no words.

It was only when Steve and Bucky proclaimed that they needed to take you home that Groot finally set you down with a sweet pat to your head. You made him promise to come back and swing with you again tomorrow and he nodded excitedly, once again proclaiming that he was Groot. You were pretty sure that meant "yes".

Head Canon for Adorable Rocket

You were bored out of your mind. Papa and Daddy had been in a super boring meeting all day with some new people called the Guardians of the something. It had been a last minute but full team meeting, but they were discussing something that was "not suitable for little ears", whatever that meant. You, Peter, Wanda, and Pietro were stuck in the rec room, being watched by Kate. There were plenty of activities, but you weren't feeling any of them today, and your daddies hadn't had time to pack a day bag for you before you all rushed upstairs.

Wrinkling your nose, you skipped over to Kate. "Can I please go get a snack from the kitchen?" you asked her, putting on your best adorable face.

"Come on, squirt, you know you need to stay here," Kate said, ruffling your hair playfully. You giggled at her teasing, but tried again, making even bigger Bambi eyes at her.

"Pleeeeeeease? I will be so fast, I promise," you begged. Kate always was a sucker for your doe eyes, so she sighed heavily, then smirked at you.

"Go get some carrots, okay? Get enough of those little bags for everyone. Then come right back."

"Carrots? Yuck."

"Carrots or nothing, kiddo."

"Fine. Can I get juice boxes too?"

"Think you can carry all that?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I can!"

"Alright then. You got three minutes. Scoot. And get right back here, got it?"

You were off like a light. You knew better than to call Kate's bluff, especially after last time...you skidded into the kitchen, relieved that you had gotten a breather. You were gathering the mini bags of carrots and juice boxes when you heard a rattle in the big cupboard. You turned your head and suddenly found yourself face to face with a raccoon.

Too startled to do anything but freeze, you just stared, trying to figure out A. why there was a raccoon in the Avengers' kitchen and B. why a raccoon would need to wear pants. The animal looked down at the snacks in your hands, and then to your absolute astonishment, grinned at you.

"Nice," he said. Then he held up an oh so familiar package. "I'll trade you for one of these, kid. Huh? Whatdaya say?"

Who cared if the raccoon was talking? He was gonna give you cookies for carrots.

"Deal!" you said, tossing him a packet of baby carrots. He caught them easy as anything, then tossed you two oreos in succession. You quickly shoved one in your mouth before anyone could stop you, chewing and swallowing as fast as you could. "I'm Katie," you managed to say.

"Rocket. Nice to meet you, kid," the raccoon said. As you shoved the second Oreo in, Bucky came around the corner. He did a double take, seeing you standing there with Rocket. He made a beeline for you, picking you up quickly.

"What are you doing out here, Baby?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his tone (He knew you well). You swallowed the last bit of cookie as fast as you could before answering.

"Getting snacks for everyone, Daddy," you said innocently, holding up the mini bags of carrots. Bucky's glare narrowed as he could see the tell tale hints of Oreos in your teeth.

"Did you take the Oreos out of the cupboard?" he asked sternly. You shook your head vehemently.

"Nope, I didn't take the Oreos out!" you chirped, because technically, you didn't. Bucky looked back down at Rocket, who was now munching away on a bag of carrots, and put two and two together quickly. He sighed heavily.

"Come on, back to the playroom," he muttered. "Rocket, Nebula has an idea about the propulsion system, said she needs you to do the...well I don't want to repeat it right now but she's asking for you."

"Roger that," Rocket said, wiping his paws off on his pants. He grinned at you. "See you around, kid."

Later that night, at the group dinner, you were thrilled when you new friend decided to sit next to you. About half way through the dinner, Rocket leaned over to you.

"So. Bucky's your Daddy, huh?"

"Yup."

"He ever take that arm off?"

"Sometimes!"

"You wanna trade me that arm for as many cookies as you want?"

".....how many are we talking?"

[andromeda-nova-writing]

"Are you laughing at me?" "Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?" - Wriothesley Request from @isekyaaa

When Clorinde said she knew someone who could teach Y/N the basics of a different hand-to-hand combat style she wasn’t expecting that Wriothesley would be the one to teach her. One would think it would be easy to take the guy seriously but all the stories from Clorinde and that his back was absolutely covered in stickers made it so hard. It would have been easier if she said she would just show up to the fortress for her lesson rather than agreeing with him to take advantage of the nice weather out at the beach. With his coat on, the stickers were at least out of sight.

“You know I never got the reason why you agreed to this.”

“Clorinde didn’t tell you?” He was focused on wrapping his hands.

“Nah. Just said she knew a guy.” Her head tilted to the side. “Is there something I should know? Heard from her that you both like betting. You lost?”

He sighed. “Yeah, but this is better than me winning and my shelves filling up with more law books.”

Y/N laughed. “So you’re the reason I end up swinging by the bookstore to pick up a law book for her every now and then.”

Wriothesley rolled his eyes with a smile. “Seems so. You ready over there.”

“Been. You were the late one.”

“Work’s a bit far from here to be fair.”

“I thought I was gonna have to tell Clorinde you were a no-show. I’d be back on the hunt for an instructor. Probably could find someone better if I spent more time looking.” She teased.

“You’re gonna give me a headache.”

“Don’t tell me I’m too much for you to handle.”

He looked away biting his lip, he pushed his bangs back before letting them fall in front of his face. “Let’s just get this started.”

It didn't take long for Y/N to begin understanding the basics. The only issue was that she kept falling back into the stance of her normal fighting style. It was definitely something she’d have to work on to fix but at the same time being able change styles mid fight could be an advantage. 

After some time of just focusing making sure she was picking things up correctly. It didn’t hurt to test some things out in a small scrimmage. It would just be a few blows back and forth with no real weight behind them. 

Y/N had thrown a punch Wriothesley's way. She focused on pushing him further back towards the water. It was her best bet with that they were in two different weight classes. It wasn’t hard for him to dodge. But in doing so he tripped backwards trying to avoid stepping on a crab and fell into the waves that crashed against the shore.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Yes, he had been a more than perfect teacher the entire time. But with the knowledge he was helping cause of a lost bet, the stickers that covered his back and that he was soaked beyond belief she let go of everything that kept her from laughing at the man.

He looked up at the woman who was now towering above him as the waves gently splashed at him leaving no part of his clothes dry. “Are you laughing at me?” He wasn’t mad but he for sure knew he had to look a bit stupid.

“Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?” She teased. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

He sighed. “You’re right nothing I can do. Help a guy up?”

Y/N wiped a tear that formed from her laughter before holding a hand out to him to pull him back up standing. Wriothesley took her hand pulling himself up just slightly before pulling her down into the water with him.

“Ugggh, You asshole!” She laid in the water beside Him.

“It's what you get.” He let go of her hand before splashing her lightly.

“It’s not like I was the one who pushed you in.”

“You were laughing enough where you might as well have.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe Clorinde set me up to learn from a man who doesn’t know how to even treat a lady.”

“I don’t know if our activities here would even have you being considered lady like.”

“I think it’s very lady like knowing how to defend yourself. After all you never know when a big oaf is going to pull you into the ocean.”

“You say that like you haven’t been having a good time.”

She turned her head away to hide the smile that was creeping onto her face. “Let’s just go dry off already.”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride! One of the genderbendy stories, please? Lady Mo, maybe?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40

Xuanyu groans and rolls her eyes when Lan Wangji insists on treating her wounds before they continue, but apparently decides she's tested his patience enough for one evening because she says, "Fine," and and begins to untie her robe.

He steps closer and grabs her wrists. "What are you doing?"

She looks up at him and this close he can see the exhaustion lingering in her dark eyes. "You just said you wanted to bandage me up before we left again!"

"You cannot undress in front of," he gestures around them.

She frowns, following his hand, and then looks down at herself. "Oh. Right, forgot that mattered now." He quirks an eyebrow and she blinks, face going a shade paler before she pastes a too wide smile across her face. "Okay, well, the carriage then?" She doesn't wait for him to answer, instead raising her voice to shout, "Sizhui, make sure our guests get something to eat before we get moving."

"Yes, Lady Xuanyu," Sizhui says, more formerly than he would normally, but Sizhui takes after him in that he tends to fall back on formality when he's feeling out of sorts.

Lan Wangji sighs and leads her to the carriage with a hand on the small of her back. His instinct is to grab her arm and drag her there, but she gets squirmy and argumentative, and he's had quite enough of both.

She hops into the carriage, only wincing at little at the sudden motions, and he follows her in, setting down the supplies he'd grabbed and then closing the doors firmly behind them.

"It's really not that bad," she says as she undoes her robes and slides them down her shoulders. "We'll have time to bathe when we arrive at Koi Tower and I could have just cleaned them there. They don't really need bandages."

He ignores her and doesn't let his eyes linger on her breasts even as he gets flash of memory of closing his lips around a small, dark nipple and biting, his tongue running the indents his teeth had left in soft flesh.

"You didn't need to go running off alone," he says, hoping it's dark enough that she doesn't see the flush he can feel crawling up his neck.

She scoffs as he presses a damp cloth against the stab wound between her shoulder and collarbone, cleaning away the tacky blood. "Song Lan needed help and he's my friend."

Lan Wangji wants to ask once again how in the world she knew were Xiao Xingchen was, how she'd been able to lead Song Lan right to him, but one issue at a time. "You could have told us that and we would have helped."

"Uh huh," she says.

He presses down harder than he'd intended and she hisses in pain. He pulls back, grudgingly admitting to himself that she was right. The wound has already closed and the bruises covering her chest have turned a sickly yellow, looking days old rather than hours. He's never seen anyone improve a golden core so quickly before, especially using such dubious methods.

He doesn't want to say the wrong thing, so he gives himself time to gather his thoughts as he wrings out the cloth. "We are not the Mo. Or the Jin."

"Uh, yeah? I noticed," she answers, pulling her robes open even wider to reveal even more bruised skin and the curved slice around her right hip.

"Have you," he asks quietly, keeping his touch gentle as he cleans the blood from thigh. "You are not - you don't have to," he stops, taking a deep breath and pausing his motions so he doesn't accidentally hurt her again. "You are not required to tell me anything that you don't want me to know. However. I am your husband."

"I noticed that too," she says, voice coming out low, and Lan Wangji does not allow himself to be distracted by the fact that he's kneeling over his mostly naked wife, her body small and soft and strong, evening bleeding and bruised.

"Then you should act like it," he returns, and odd reversal of their argument after the waterfall. "In the Lan you are not a bastard daughter but my legitimate wife. If you'd told me you wished to assist Song Lan, I would have helped you, and others would have volunteered to accompany us. You would not have needed to go alone. "

Xuanyu glares at him, somehow even more compelling with the anger brightening her eyes. "I was fine alone. I didn't need you."

"This is not about needing," he says softly, "but about having. Whether you need me or not is irrelevant. You have me. Next time I hope you remember that."

He ties her inner robe together before jumping out of the carriage, leaving her to redress herself. He feels the weight of her gaze on him, but she doesn't say anything.

Lan Wangi sighs, rubbing at his forehead. He drops into the seat next to his brother, noting Sizhui and Jingyi sitting at the same table as their guests and insistently putting more and more food on their plates over their protests. Well, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen's protests. A-Qing seems quite happy to eat everything put in front of her.

Xichen raises an eyebrow.

"How long did it take Jin Guangyao to trust you?" he asks impulsively, regretting asking almost as soon as it's out of his mouth.

Xichen sighs, "Oh, Wangji," and doesn't answer.

[pmaxshay]

Love Conquers All

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader (Fem)

~ Part 1 ~ ~ Part 3 ~ ~ Part 4 ~ ~ Part 5 ~

~ Part 6 ~ ~ The End ~

~ Part 2 ~

Benedict sat in the Bridgerton drawing room, doing exactly that. His sketchbook on his knees as his legs dangled over the arm of the chair. His back leant up against the opposite arm. His pencil scribbled furiously over the pages, little by little though every page was ripped up and thrown.

Every so often he’d reach over and throw a handful of grapes into his mouth, chewing furiously.

“Benedict. I did not expect to see you awake so early.” Violet jumped slightly as she walked into the drawing room, seeing her second eldest sprawled out.

“Apologies Mother. I could not sleep.”

Violet watched him as he continued to scribble and get frustrated at himself. She placed a hand on her abdomen and one hand on her hip.

“Is something troubling you dear?” The worry evident on her face.

“Not at all Mother. I am just dandy.” Benedict faked a smile, wanting to hide his sour mood from her.

However, if anyone knew him best, it was his mother.

She moved closer, towering over him as he lay on the chair.

“Benedict.”

“Mother.”

“I know you. You are not yourself. Are you well?”

“I… am…” Benedict hesitated when he looked up to see the emotion written all over Violet’s face.

“I have… no muse. Okay. I am a failed artist. What with Anthony buying my place in the Academy and having absolutely nothing to draw.” He sighed, leaning his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Violet sighed softly, reaching out her hand for him to hold. He obliged and held it tightly.

“My dear Benedict. You are more than you know. Whatever this is, it will pass. You will find that spark again. I am sure of it. Maybe what you need is…”

“If you say love Mother I swear…” Benedict huffed but had a small smile on his face.

“I know you are very… liberal… with your views on such matters but believe me, love can do wondrous things. Do not count yourself out yet. I thought I was out but I have Lord Anderson…”

“Mother please I do not need to know details of you and Lord Anderson.” Benedict rolled his eyes.

Violet chuckled before pulling at his hand to get him to stand up. His sketchbook falling to the floor along with the pencil. Violet placed both of her hands on either side of his face.

“My wonderful, wonderful boy. Your father would be proud of you. All of you.” Violet cooed, tears forming in her eyes.

“Are you well Mother? You are… more emotional than usual.” Benedict placed his hands are her upper arms.

“I am. I’m just a proud mother that is all. However, there is much to do today to prepare. I need to get Eloise and Hyacinth to the Modiste in one piece.” Violet sighed before clapping her hands to pull herself together.

“Good luck Mother.” Benedict rolled his eyes before planting a kiss on her cheek. He then proceeded to pick up his sketchbook and pencil, making a swift exit before the chaos inevitably began.

Across Mayfair, Y/N was sat in her own drawing room. Her nose buried in her latest read.

“Y/N my dear. It is a beautiful day today you should be out. Can you not go and call on that Bridgerton girl you were talking with at the ball?” Richard chimed from behind his paper.

“I could say the same for you Father.” Y/N gestured to the paper with a smirk.

“And also her name is Eloise. But I believe she is busy today visiting the Modiste.”

“Oh well that’s perfect. You are due some new dresses are you not?” Richard chimed once more. Trying with all his might to get Y/N out of the house.

The secret talk he had, had with Lady Danbury at last nights ball, while Y/N was distracted, had hit home. He wanted Y/N to fly the nest and have a life outside of home. It is what her mother would have wanted also.

“Ugh fine.” Y/N huffed.

“I’ve lost my place now anyway.” Her book was slammed shut and held tight against her chest as she stormed out of the room.

Richard just chuckled to himself before going back to reading his paper.

The Modiste houses Mayfair’s finest dressmaker, Madame Delacroix. Her designs were incredibly sought after. Especially after Lady Whistle… Penelope Bridgerton started to write about her.

Eloise was filling Y/N in on such news and gossip of the Ton.

“So… Penelope was your best friend but she wrote these awful things about you and your family or well the whole Ton and you were no longer friends and then she married your brother?” Y/N asked, confusion laced in her words.

“I know. It’s still incredibly confusing to me too. However, it is nice to call her a sister now. I would’ve longed for such a relationship with her when we were younger.” Eloise chimed.

“I wish I knew the feeling. It is lonely being an only child. You are lucky.” Y/N whined.

“I believe it is you to be the lucky one. A whole house to yourself. It must be so peaceful. We don’t get a minutes peace at Bridgerton house.”

“I must agree, the quiet does have its advantages. Feel free to come and make use of them. Any time.” Y/N offered with a smile.

“You don’t know how much that means to me. Y/N Pembrooke. Thank you. Thank you, thank you!!” Eloise exclaimed.

“Eloise! Behave yourself.” Violet warned.

“Sorry Mama.”

Hyacinth turned and stuck her tongue out at Eloise in jest. To which Eloise did it back.

“See that! That is what I have missed out on.” Y/N whined once more.

[achaoticeternal]

can’t you see...?

aemond targaryen x reader part one - nothing between us

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

word count: 2.7k summary: The eye of the Seven is observant as they watch the altercations that occur between the prince and you. How far will you allow your temptation to spur you? And how could you ever deny Aemond Targaryen of what the Seven have gifted him? a/n: there’ll probably be a part three... warnings: power dynamics/ imbalance, AFAB reader, religious themes and guilt, coercion/dub-con (but not smut), praise kink, Aegon’s commentary 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Aemond’s eye hardly left your lovely figure during dinner that night. Though he may be sitting quite a few seats away from you on the opposite side of the table, it made it easy for him to watch and observe you. While others surrounding you shared polite conversation, Aemond thought solely of what occurred in the godswood before you separately entered for the feast.

His mind mulled over how obedient you were… how eager to please…

The lewd thoughts were only interrupted when Aegon leaned in close to him, breath heavy with the stench of wine. It shouldn’t come to him as a surprise that Aegon already had his fill of the wine even as he whispered into his ear, “She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?”

Aemond’s hands fisted against the napkin in his lap, knuckles turning white. Yet the unbothered look upon his face didn’t sway, except for a twitch of his brow. His self-control was quite impressive, especially with his brother’s vulgar thoughts being whispered into his ear like a deceptive little snake.

“The lady is not a plaything for you to steal pleasure from,” He quietly spat back.

“I wouldn’t have to steal her pleasure,” Aegon chuckled darkly, “I’m sure your little virgin would love being properly taken.”

Before Aemond could retaliate, their grandfather and Hand of the King, Otto Hightower, stood to address the guests of the feast. He spoke of another passing year of the successes the Small Council had brought to the realm, continuing the peaceful reign of the King. Lord Hightower also pleasantly surprised the group with a toast to the health of Lord Corlys Velaryon and his return to Driftmark as the Lord of the Tides and Master of Ships. Many people shared smiles and small toasts, but Aemond’s eye drifted back to the daughter of Viserys’ and Otto’s most trusted advisor and long-time friend of the Crown.

Yet, he was rather surprised when he noticed that you were already looking at him. It was a look the young prince was unable to discern. You looked at him, with a gaze of longing and curiosity before quickly averting your eyes elsewhere. Your face became warm, if not flustered when you realized that he caught you in the act. But you couldn’t help but to admire him…

Flashbacks of your time spent in the godswood washed over you. That brief time spent together just moments before you arrived at your parent’s side.

“Get on your knees and pray,” His voice had come out in a growl nearly similar to a dragon.

There was no resistance as you gracefully fell to your knees before him. The prince now towered over you but made no movement to obstruct you.

“Will you not pray with me, my prince?” You asked softly.

A smirk graced his face at your question, paired with a breathless chuckle, “I am praying in my… own way.”

With a nod of your head, you did not press him further. Clasping your hands together, you raised them to the height of your chin. You closed your eyes and began to recite your prayers in a hushed tone.

Aemond’s soft touch landed atop your folded hands, “Speak up, my Lady. The Gods can not hear your whispers of faith.”

You set to continue the prayer, yet he stopped you once more, “Open your eyes to the heavens, sweet lady.”

Opening your eyes, you glanced upwards only to be met with his looming presence. He had moved closer to you, his one eye fixating upon you and hand cupping your chin. How pretty you looked on your knees before him, innocence brimming in your eyes. You continued speaking your prayers to each of the faces of the Seven, eyes never leaving him. He looked like a God before you, a god you would willingly worship whenever he called upon you.

The prayer finished, causing you to fall silent. His thumb traced the outline of your bottom lip before light tugging it. When he released it, he pressed the pad of his thumb to your lips. Without any instruction, you pressed a soft kiss to the digit.

A warmth now settled in your lower stomach as the scene played over and over in your mind. Though the warmth caused a faint sense of pleasure, guilt settled into your heart and mind. The eyes of the Seven had seen how you had misbehaved when so loosely chaperoned with the prince. How would your oath to the Maiden waver when truly alone and unable to resist the temptation that came to you so naturally?

Your mind raced with these upsetting thoughts. Surely the prince, a faithful man, did not want to be tainted by the presence of a young lady with such thoughts. It was something that you would come to pray over consistently; every meal, every night, every holy day.

--

Over the course of the following days, Aemond had come to find you were always haunting his mind, day in and day out. Whether he be in the training yards with Ser Criston, or delving into the histories during his time of study, his thoughts drifted away to the idea of how soft your lips felt against his thumb. And how he wished to press the digit against your tongue and order you to suck just to see how far you’d go to please him.

He’d shake his head to rid himself of these scandalous fantasies, especially while seated between his own mother and Helaena. The mother-daughter had been chatting as Aemond remained seated across from them, his nephew and niece playing at his feet. Though he tried to appreciate this time spent with his family, his mind twisted to thoughts of seeing you heavy with his own heirs. The two of you having little silver-haired toddlers coming to pull at your legs for attention.

Yet at night during his nightly solitude, the impure fantasies flooded his mind. His typical dreamless nights had twisted into exaggerations of your bodies laying together in his bed, completely bare to each other. How sweet your voice sang out for him as he coaxed you through waves of incomparable pleasure. The way in which your face would blissfully contort as he thrust his cock into your desirable, tight warmth.

Aemond would find himself kicking his sheets off his body, the layers trapping too much heat against him. When that didn’t help, the young prince would strip himself bare, freeing his hard member from the constriction caused by his breeches. The images in his dreams would cause him to tightly fist himself until hot spurts of cum covered his hand and lean stomach, leaving him panting. These nights left him frustrated and on the brink of tears as he questioned whether or not he was cursed with the same lust the Seven bestowed upon Aegon.

In the morning after these dreams, Aemond would strictly avoid you by taking off on Vhagar or locking himself away in his private chambers when not bound to duty.

But at the end of the day, it not only caused a strain on your blossoming relationship - it left both of you even more frustrated, befitting you both in a state of yearning.

--

Days later, Aemond had just left his mother’s private chambers after spending lunch with her. Mostly she lectured him about his brothers’ behavior or what she thought was unsuitable in recent Small Council dealings. Surprisingly, Aemond had left all thoughts and dreams of your angelic face and body on his pillow, allowing him to take comfort in his day.

Currently, he was making his way down to the library in search of texts recommended to him by a maester. New teachings had been released from Oldtown and were now housed within the Red Keep’s expansive library.

Yet when he arrived, Aemond found himself met with your figure curled into one of the seats. You were currently facing away from him with an unfamiliar text propped in your lap. It was the way you had strewn out your body that caught and held his attention longer than what might be acceptable. Dressed in a gown befitting the heat of summer, you lounged out upon the chaise with your calves danging over the armrest where one would typically rest their head. Furthermore, your shoes had been discarded and your dress had bunched down to your knees. Where the scene might have been less enticing in the winter where you would wear stockings up your dress, your legs were bare to him. It only spurred the impure thoughts once more.

Aemond cleared his throat which signaled his presence. Almost immediately, you dropped your book when you realized that you were no longer alone. Quickly, you tucked your legs under the skirt of your dress before flipping over to see it was the prince. With a sharp intake of breath, you rose to your knees on the chaise, gripping the backing for support, “My prince…”

“My lady,” He bid you welcome and a beat of silence hung before he spoke once more, “I did not mean to disturb your lounging.”

“You did not disturb me,” You attempted to soothe the awkward tension between the pair of you. It fell silent again when both of you were unsure of what to say. Deciding to continue about your day, you stood from your seat and slipped your shoes on before moving to exit, “Good day, my prince.”

Aemond was quick to notice your discarded book that lay on the floor, “My lady, it seems you’ve forgotten something,” already, he took strides to retrieve it.

Turning on your heels, you watched as the prince went to fetch your book. Waves of horror rocked through your body, “Allow me to grab it. I so foolishly forgot it.”

Though you stepped lightly to catch up to him, Aemond already hovered down to snatch it off the ground, “No, allow me.”

As Aemond rose to his full height once more, you arrived before him. He stretches out the novel for you to take, his eye meeting yours. So far, you were in the clear… But then he glanced down to see what title had kept you so occupied as to not notice his intrusion. The answer surprises him… A Caution for Young Girls.  

Gingerly, you pulled it to your chest, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “If you shall allow me to dismiss myself…”

“No. That isn’t necessary,” He stopped the words before they could leave your tongue, “I’d like for you to explain.”

Your eyes flickered back to meet his violet eye burning through you. A chill ran down your spine, the question barely audible, “Explain?”

“Yes, explain,” Aemond confirmed, his hands now tucked behind his back so you would not notice the force it took to restrain himself, “Explain why you see fit to read a book with such… lewd descriptions of what should only occur between a wed couple. You were reading it in quite a public space, before the eyes of the Seven.”

Your lip quivered as your heartbeat hammered against your chest. Feelings of guilt and ruin washed over you and the words tumbled passed your lips with little thought, “My prince, I am deeply sorry. I simply wished to understand the duties of a wife beyond what my mother has explained to me and I thought this book would help. I did not mean to come across so perverse… I… I…”

Emotions rocked through your body as the words caught in your throat. Aemond could see how the confrontation had frightened you and it left him with an interesting mix of emotions. He enjoyed having the upper hand, the way you so sweetly apologized and begged for his forgiveness. Even your confession left him pleasantly surprised with the warmth it caused to pulsate through his body.

“I see,” Aemond nodded, “Your reasoning is quite innocent… even if you’ve exposed yourself to such perverse descriptions.”

“I did not know any better; I swear it upon the Maiden,” You clasped your shaky hand over the pendant on your chest.

Such actions and whines caused Aemond’s rough exterior to soften, “I understand…”

“You do?”

Aemond chuckled lowly at your innocent tone, “Of course, I do, my sweet girl.”

Aimlessly, Aemond took the book from your grasp and tossed it onto one of the seats near the both of you. He then brought his hand up to gently grip your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “You worry that you’ve disgraced yourself? Made yourself unsuitable by consuming such materials?”

The tone in which he asked the question demanded an answer. Words lost to you, you opted to nod your head as best as you could within his hold. Your hands clung to his forearm as if your hold upon him kept you from collapsing.

“Hmm… don’t worry, sweet girl,” Aemond assured you, “Your soul isn’t tainted, and we shall go to the sept and pray together later. The Seven will forgive you.”

Aemond watched as relief flooded your eyes. Your lips parted as if to say or do anything, but you were too caught up in yourself to do anything. Instead, he continued to coax you through your panic, “All will be well, but you must share something with me.”

His thumb traveled higher, lightly toying with your bottom lip. As he did such, you asked him for further clarification, “What is it, Aemond?’

His unwavering frown turned into a subtle smirk as you allowed him to take what he wished, “I want you to suck and lick my thumb as Lady Coryanne did to the Lord’s cock in the brothel.”

Shock flooded your senses at the young prince’s request, but could you deny it? If you did not, he might run off and tell your Lord Father or expose your lack of innocence which would ruin you. But maybe your refusal to deny him also came from your deep-seated attraction for the Targaryen prince.

As his thumb protruded past your lips, the choice was made. Almost too eagerly, you began to lap at Aemond’s thumb as you read what the Lady had done with the tip of the Lord’s cock. Your lips then wrapped around the digit, gently sucking at it. Your cheeks then hallowed as you willed yourself to continue… That certainly couldn’t be in the book… Aemond thought.

“Good girl,” Aemond comforted you, “My sweet girl…”

A moment later and Aemond had pulled you around the bookcase, pinning you against a wall. Yet you did not dare to halt your movements, not without his direct order. You sucked off his thumb and then began pressing delicate kisses from the base of the joint to the tip of it before swirling your tongue around it once more.

Aemond growled as his cock strained against the leather of his pants. Without another cautionary thought, he pushed the neckline of your dress to expose one of your shoulders. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone before he began to nibble and suck on the soft skin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. He figured that the resulting mark could easily be covered or passed off as a bruise.

Finally, Aemond pulled off of you and removed his thumb from your lips. You whined wantonly at the loss of contact which resulted in another smirk from him. Both of your eyes met before glancing at the red-purplish spots he left after his own attack.

“Don’t worry, my Lady, you shall have more… in time,” Aemond sneered, “And make no mistake that you are mine… the Seven has seen it and decree it be…”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. thanks for reading!

[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

four

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Masterlist <-previous , next->

108 AC Red Keep, King's Landing

Silence fell between siblings, y/n stared wide eyed at Viserys as he told her of his plans to marry Rhaenyra's companion, Alicent Hightower. Building the structure of old Valyria was abandoned.

"No." The daughter of Baelon the brave said coldly.

"No?" Her brother asked confused. 

"No." She repeated. "You will not marry that girl."

"I have decid-" His grace countered but was interrupted by his younger sister.

"Choose someone else." y/n demanded resuming her previous activity. 

"Why not her?" He insisted staring at the red-eyed girl.

"She is a Hightower, a house that protects and upholds the faith of the seven. We are Targaryen's we follow the fourteen flames, her father is a second son so her dowry would be insufficient. She is your daughters confidante, this marriage will break Rhaenyra." y/n explained without looking at her brother. "Choose someone else."

"Who would you have me choose?" His Grace asked annoyed. 

"A bride of Valyrian descent, perhaps a Lyseni noble woman. Or a Celtigar, maybe a Baratheon." She proposed painting a tower. "If you marry Alicent and have a son, your hand will want to make him King not Rhaenyra."

"Otto would't undermine my decision to make Rhaenyra my heir." Viserys countered

"Viserys, be serious. That man will do anything to gain power, he knows Rhaenyra holds no love for him and when she becomes Queen he will have no place in her court." 

"Otto supported and proposed the decision to make Rhaenyra heir during a small council meeting." He countered

"But that is not because he wants Rhaenyra to be Queen, he wanted remove Daemon as a possible heir." y/n stated. "He is too proud to be a loyal servant to the crown."

"Otto has been a loyal and unwavering hand."

"Orys Baratheon was a loyal and unwavering hand, Daemon Velaryon was an amiable hand, Ryam Redwyne was loyal and so was father but Otto? No."

...

"I intend to marry, the Lady Alicent Hightower." Viserys spoke during the small council meeting. y/n sighed deeply swirling the bronze orb that belonged to her as the mistress of whisperers. Corlys was outraged, Rhaenyra betrayed, Otto victorious and Viserys was a fool. 

Soon the small council began to leave the chamber, Corlys and Rhaenyra were the first to leave. y/n sat in her seat staring at Otto, she cleared her throat and stood up smoothing her dress.

"Lord Hightower, I am sure you are happy with your little victory." y/n began staring at the tall, elderly man. "My brother is a fool to not notice your schemes but be certain I do. Your daughter may become Queen and have children with the King but be certain they will be raised far away from you and your plots. I will personally see to that." Otto chuckled.

"You may claim to do so as you wish princess, but soon you will wed and travel to Dorne with no influence in court." The Hightower recounted, the princess only smiled.

"You're a fool to believe that power resides with a person... I will leave you with that Lord Hand. Rest well." y/n said and left the small council chamber.

...

110 AC Red Keep, King's Landing

Viserys's greatest dream came true, Alicent delivered a healthy son just nine month after their wedding. But not all was well. The war in the stepstones has been raging for over two years, the sea snake along with the rogue prince have been losing against the triarchy. The court however did not concern themselves with the crab feeder, preferring to celebrate the second name day of Prince Aegon.    

“y/n?” Rhaenyra asked peering over her aunt’s shoulder.

“Hmm?” The red-eyed girl muttered, her eyes focused on the heavy book before her.

“Might I join you?” She questioned not waiting for permission, leaning on the great weirwood tree. The delicate strums of Samwell’s baliset brought the two princesses’ comfort in this tiring day. 

“Your grace.” The bard stood up quickly bowing before the Hightower Queen.

“Did I order you to stop?” Rhaenyra asked annoyed, her head on the princess’s shoulder. 

“Samwell go.” Alicent ordered, her voice confident so different from her usual shy demeanor. 

“You are to stay by the order of your princess.” y/n hid a smirk turning over another page. She heard the retreating footsteps of the player and sighed deeply, Rhaenyra and Alicent two former friends exchanged sad words. Rhaenyra's anger was justified, her father and dearest friend betrayed her. 

“Let us leave Rhaenyra, the carriages will not wait for our tardiness.” y/n mused standing up taking Rhaenyra by her hand and brushing past Alicent.

...

y/n sighed sipping the red wine, glancing at the ladies of the court. Alicent pregnant with her second child sat next to you, engaged in some boring conversation with lady Redwyne. She glanced seeing her brother drown himself in cups of wine.

“Excuse me, my Queen.” She said leaving the suffocating company she was ordered to stay with. The black and bronze leather attire y/n wore moved gracefully with her movements. Walking to Viserys she glanced at the servant next to him.

“Bring a chair.” She ordered, the heels of her shoes thudded against the carpeted stairs. The servant placed a heavy woodened chair on the left of his grace, she nodded thankfully dismissing the boy. “Viserys.” The king sluggishly glanced his siblings way.

“What is it sister?” He asked, his words slurred due to over indulgence in wine. 

“I have come to see how you are.” she answered, her brother laughed, pouring himself another goblet.

“My daughter avoids me like a plague, the court bothers me with possible matches for her. I cannot celebrate my son’s second name day in peace!” He raised his voice glancing at the lord and ladies before him. y/n took his gloved hand circling her thumb on his palm. 

“Perhaps you should let Rhaenyra choose her own match?” She proposed, Viserys nodded and smiled gently.

“Perhaps you are right. You know her best after all... y/n you are seven and ten, maybe if you married first Rhaenyra would follow." Viserys said.

"Grandsire has wanted me to marry Qoren since I was small." She mumbled thinking of the dark haired boy she has met years ago.

After retiring to Dorne, Qoren's mother princess Mara died of an illness. At just four and ten he became the prince of Dorne. His duties kept him in Sunspear, despite the many years apart you often wrote to each other and the feeling you have once held for him didn't disappear.

"Do you want to marry him?" Viserys questioned and you nodded.

"I do. When we were children we promised each other that we would marry."

"In nine years much can change." Viserys answered.

"To break this engagement would jeopardize our very fragile relationship with the south." His grace hummed and gulped the wine.

"It is settled then, I shall send word to Dorne that it is high time you married."

"Let me break the news to Rhaenyra first, if she hears that you are forcing me away from her side she will hate you even more."

Viserys chuckled sadly and nodded.

"How is it that my daughter despises the thought of marriage but you accept and yearn for it?" Your brother asked.

"I have always known I would have to marry... and grandsire wished to see me happy. I met Qoren and I have fallen for him but it seems the gods did not want us to be together for long."

"I want you to be content, happy even. If marrying the Prince will make you so I see no reason to refrain." Her eyes widened slightly and a warm smile appeared on her lips.

"I would like that." She said and pressed a kiss to Viserys's cheek.

t/n sighed leaning into her chair, she observed curiously as the court whispered and laughed among themselves. Seeing many of her spiders mingle with the rest of the nobles.

“Where is Aegon?" y/n questioned wanting to see her nephew, Viserys shrugged in response. She ordered one of the maids to lead the way to the young prince.

The little boy only two, played alone with his wooden dragons, a gift for his nameday. y/n nodded at the maids stationed to take care of him to leave. 

“Aegon?” The little boy glanced up, his violet eyes widening and a wide smile appearing on his chubby face.

“y/n!” He exclaimed running towards her, chuckling she picked him up into her arms. Despite the indifference Rhaenyra held for her little brother y/n took kindly to Aegon. After all he was her nephew.

“Do you want to go on a horse ride with me?” She questioned petting Aegon’s silver locks. He nodded eagerly bouncing in her arms.

“Where is father?” Aegon questioned, he played with the reigns of your horse sitting in front of her. 

“Your father is very busy as a King he has many responsibilities.” She answered, Viserys was not a good father nonetheless she didn't want to poison his own son against him. Aegon stayed quiet for most of the ride leaning into his aunt's body. “Perhaps I shall take you with me to Dorne.” She proposed and the Prince nodded happily.

"y/n with me!" The princeling demanded, a chuckle left his aunt's lips.

"Yes Aegon, you'll be with me. We will fly together, eat fruit and play, yes?" She questioned.

"Yes!" He exclaimed happily hugging his aunt.

...

Letters were exchanged between his Grace King Viserys and Prince Qoren discussing the arrangement, and soon the realm awaited the wedding of Princess y/n Targaryen and Prince Qoren Martell.

Rhaenyra begrudgingly accepted the news of her aunt's impending marriage, but the realm's delight still refused to marry. Rhaenyra agreed to search for a husband though it took Viserys's threat of removing her status as heir to the Iron Throne to convince her. Rhaenyra along with her aunt and half brother toured the seven kingdoms. The last royal procession was held by Jaehaerys and his sister wife Alysanne. In that way Rhaenyra reminded the realm of the rightful heir as well as scour for possible consorts as her father ordered.

y/n held Aegon in her lap as Rhaenyra interviewed possible matches. She noted down in her journal all the men who have asked for an audience with the princess, giggling to herself as Rhaenyra shooed them away with clever insults.

“The princess has a dragon you dumb cunt!” One of the contenders mocked the Blackwood boy, the two princesses snorted as the crows laughed. The mood has turned sour once the two nobles decided to bring out their swords, deciding it was time to go Rhaenyra her aunt and half-brother left in boredom. 

Rhaenyra approached her aunt after talking with her sworn shield. 

“Do you think father will be mad that I ended the tour two moons early?” The heir jested leaning on the railing of the ship taking them back to King’s landing. y/n chuckled leaning on the princess’s shoulder. 

“I think he will be delighted to see you.” She mused, her brows furrow hearing the flapping of wings above the ship. The crew looked up searching for the culprit. Soon the ship has been swayed by Caraxes’s wings, Daemon atop the blood wyrm. y/n grasped Rhaenyra’s hand aiming to balance herself from the swaying of the boat.

...

y/n watched curiously as her half-brother strode proudly through the great hall. A wooden crown atop his short silver hair, black sister sheathed atop his hip. Viserys dressed in royal attire sat at the iron throne, the crown once worn by King Jaehaerys atop his own head. 

Daemon stopped at the stairs leading to the throne, glancing at the king’s guard pointing their own weapons at Daemon’s chest. A smirk painted on his lips; he threw the sword of his fallen enemy at Viserys’s feet. 

“Add it to the throne, your grace.” He mused a smile appearing on your own lips. Two brothers happily reunited after almost three years. The court applauded the reconciliation of Baelon's sons. y/n quietly retreated to her chambers preparing for the feast Viserys was going to throw in honor of their brother returning. 

“What do you think I should wear?” Rhaenyra turned around; her body covered with a thin linen shirt. y/n glanced at the two dresses that were held by the maids.

“The golden one.” She mused sinking her teeth in the sweet fig, already dressed in a pale violet dress embedded with gold dragons. “You'll look beautiful in it.”

“All right then, can you help me braid my hair?” y/n nodded and stood from the comfortable armchair, skillfully braided her hair. She hummed an old Valyrian nursery rhyme as she worked on Rhaenyra’s silver hair. 

The princess hummed leaning into her touch as she kissed the crown of her head. Together the two walked to the godswood where the fest was being held. y/n was excited to see Daemon after all of those years. 

“Mandia” Daemon whispered, y/n smiled as she saw her half-brother. After reminiscing with his brother and exchanging pleasantries with the guests attending, he walked towards the table covered in various dishes. (Sister)

“Lēkia” y/n answered taking a sip from the golden goblet in her hands. “Aōha ōghar… Nyke ȳdra daor hae ziry.” She mused staring at his short silver hair, not the only thing that changed about your brother. (Brother/ Your hair…I don’t like it.)

“Iksan sīr mundagon naejot rȳbagon bona” Daemon laughed taking a seat next to his sister. (I am so sad to hear that)

"Eman jeldan naejot ūndegon ao syt sīr bōsa" Baelon's youngest son muttered after a moment of silence (I have longed to see you for so long)

"Lo konir sagon drēje pār ao would daor vīlībagon isse iā vīlībāzma" y/n mused playing with the golden rings on her fingers. Daemon snorted and nodded, the siblings watched as the court mingled with each other. The almost picturesque moment was interrupted by Alicent's son running toward his aunt and uncle. Aegon laughed as y/n smiled and picked the boy up. Daemon watched with disdain in his eyes as his sister smiled at the little tower. (If that is true then you would not fight in a war.)

"Gaomagon daor jurnegon rȳ zirȳ hae bona" y/n said sternly placing Aegon in her lap. (Do not look at him like that)

"Issi se trēsi hen bona kasta līve" He spoke venom dripping from his lips. (He is the son of that green whore)

y/n gaze hardened at the obvious hatred Daemon held for the innocent child, it is not Aegon's fault that their mother is Alicent.

"Issi riñar, pōnta gōntan daor iderēbagon syt zirȳla naejot sagon pōja muña" she hissed "Kesrio syt nyke jurnegon tolī zirȳ Alicent se zirȳla kepa emagon daor ōregon toliot zirȳ" (He is a child, he did not choose for her to be his mother/ Because I look after them Alicent and her father have no hold over them.)

Daemon hummed in approval accepting his sister's fondness over the little tower. 

"You will make a great mother." Daemon said as he stared fondly at his sister.

"I think I will become a mother sooner or later..." She mused leaning against her brothers shoulder.

"How so?" He asked

"I am too marry, Daemon. In a month or two Qoren will arrive and we will wed." y/n told her brother. She could feel Daemon's muscles tense, a scowl appeared on his features. "Do not fret brother, you may visit me to your hearts content." She chuckled.

...

Princess y/n along with the crowned heir Princess Rhaenyra and her half brother Prince Aegon toured the seven kingdoms. The last royal progress was held almost fifty years ago during the reign of King Jaehaerys I. The crown agreed to the excursion thanks to the princesses y/n input she convinced the small council of the benefits that would aid the realm. In the same year prince Daemon Targaryen returned to court after three years of war in the stepstones. Despite the aversion the court held towards the rogue prince, princess y/n enjoyed her half-brothers presence. Many saw them take strolls throughout Rhaenys's gardens and fly on dragon back together.- From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

[amorgansgal]

Practice Makes Perfect

So here we go! At long last, I've finished my fic and I loved writing this one so much! Just to ensure absolute clarity I'm kind of seeing the academy as a university, so everyone here is over the age of 20 and somehow I've pegged Gale as a complete slut evidently!

Gale x Fat Female Reader

CW: Sexual content, Oral sex

‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ you desperately whisper to your friend, Nira, who is dragging you through the mahogany panelled library where absurdly high bookshelves tower above you both.

The library is quieter in the late afternoons and evenings, there are only a few students either absorbed in the small mountains of books that surround them or are busily writing out long essays, the familiar, comforting sound of turning pages and the scratch of pen against paper fills the large room. As you pass the candlesticks the wicks catch alight, now that the room is getting gloomier and the sky is darkening. The sun is sinking low in the sky, casting the last rays of golden light to be dispersed through the diamond patterned windows. The dark wooden floorboard underneath your feet glitters with the thrumming magic that spills from the books in the room and the stunning reds, golds and oranges of the last light of the day.

‘Don’t be such a wet blanket,’ Nira hisses in response. ‘Besides, I thought you were interested.’

‘I am,’ you insist, though a hot blush still creeps up your cheeks. ‘But I don’t want to be mocked or for him to judge me.’

‘He’s not going to judge you. From what I heard he quite likes…’ she hesitates, pursing her lips as though wanting to find the right way of putting it.

‘Fat women?’ you prompt.

She sighs. ‘I was going to say ladies with larger thighs, but sure, fat women.’

‘You promise me, he won’t laugh or-’

‘He’s not going to laugh and if he does I’ll fireball him right in his face.’

You bite back a laugh at the thought and Nira grins at you, then continues, ‘Besides, I’ve had the joy of experiencing Gale’s tongue and it’s well worth it. Honestly, I wish he was interested in properly dating someone, because I’d throw my hat in the ring, so many men act like the whole thing is disgusting. Oh but we’re expected to suck them off whenever, even if their dicks stink like piss!’

You smile, it’s been a complaint of Nira ever since she got to experience Gale’s tongue and you’ve heard all about his ability non-stop since. Most of the girls in your class have talked about it. You’re surprised they’re not jealous of one another or are trying to win him over, but he apparently doesn’t seem to care about entering a serious relationship and is just happy to oblige his classmates’ desires. You had your concerns though that he would not be interested in you. You’d always been on the larger size, your mother certainly didn’t help matters by pointedly making remarks about how most people associated female magic users with beautiful, ethereal waif like creatures. No one thought of dumpy little witches unless they were old and ugly. You did your best to shrug off comments like that but it still stung and you felt like you had to work twice as hard as your classmates just to be given any forethought or attention from either your peers or your teachers.

Gale, when you had occasion to work with him, was refreshingly respectful, kind and seemed to actually see you. You’d grown almost accustomed to any man’s gaze immediately drifting past you and onto your thinner friends. If it didn’t happen so often you might have even been angry about it, but you didn’t really see the point. So consequently your experience with men was rather limited. You’d been kissed, sure, but it was such a fumbling, innocent mess of a kiss you weren’t quite sure whether to count it. You’d touch yourself but you always felt a bit embarrassed about it and sometimes your own self-doubts would turn you off. So it was usually a rushed affair and didn’t quite leave you fully satisfied.

‘Ah, there you are,’ Nira says as you reach the end of the library where instead of desks and rigid back chairs there are soft, plush sofas nestled in alcoves and you see Gale look up at your approach. He gives you both a warm smile and you immediately feel that this whole thing is a horrible, terrible idea. Your feet slow and Nira is practically dragging you over. Your heart is thudding in your chest, the blood rushing in your ears, and it feels like your throat is about to close up. Gale is handsome. He has foppish brown hair that tickles the back of his neck. His eyes are a warm, deep brown. His easy going smile is inviting. And you feel all your weight, the soft plumpness of your belly, your thighs catching slightly on chairs and tables as you walk over. He is going to say no, he is going to look at you like you are disgusting and repulsive and how could you even think he would want to give you pleasure?

‘Good afternoon, Nira,’ he says and inclines his head in greeting. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘Well, it’s not so much pleasure you owe me!’ Nira says with a grin and tosses her head at you. ‘You remember Y/N, right?’

‘Of course, I still am very resentful you soundly beat me in my alchemy test!’’ he says, though there’s no malice in the tone as his smile widens and his eyes glimmer with mischief. 

‘Well, she’s heard what you like to do.’

Gale laughs, and for a moment your heart seizes in terror. ‘Really? Am I getting that kind of reputation?’ he asks, though you can see he’s quite proud of such a reputation.

Nira rolls her eyes. ‘Oh come off it Gale, you’ve practically had every girl in the classroom that way and we all talk about it!’

His eyes flick back to you and a shiver runs down your spine. The pupils in his eyes have widened and you’re quite certain it has nothing to do with the gloom of the library. He wets his lips and you’re almost scared of the way he’s looking at you… he’s looking at you with desire and your silly heart doesn’t quite know what to make of it. But then he clears his throat and gives you another sweet, winning smile.

‘And I take it you’re interested in allowing me to practise? Because if you’re not and Nira has just dragged you here when you don’t like the idea, then please don’t be bullied into it. I’m very happy to have a chance to work on my technique, but I don’t like the idea of someone being less than enthusiastic,’ he says and his gaze is entirely focused on you, and you almost don’t want to look at him because it’s so startling being treated like an object of desire. But you manage to keep your head raised and your eyes fixed on him.

‘Yes, I do… I am interested,��� you say. ‘If you’re… um… interested in me, you don’t have to if it would prove distasteful.’

That same wicked, mischievous gleam is back and he draws closer to you. ‘I am interested and I assure you, it never proves distasteful, quite the contrary in fact.’

‘Gods, should I just turn my back or are you going to wait until you’ve gone somewhere more private?’ Nira asks and you flush at her words, though Gale lets out another burst of laughter.

‘I would assume my room would be preferable,’ he says to you. ‘Though Lucia and I did make use of that corner over there,’ he gestures to a table tucked into a corner by a bookshelf and you inhale quickly, imagining your hands holding tightly onto the shelves, your butt on the table and Gale’s head between your thighs. You bite you lip and press your legs together, there is no denying the desire that courses through you at the thought of the risk that would be, the possibility of being caught, though you would find it mortifying. It’s better to not get ahead of yourself and you nod.

‘I would prefer the privacy of your room,’ you say, and Gale offers his hand to you. It takes you a moment for you to take it, but he gives your fingers a gentle squeeze and then puts the book he was holding back on the shelf. 

‘I assume we should go there now, unless you have prior plans,’ he says to you. Were it any other man you would have assumed he might be trying to put you off, but it sounds like he genuinely cares about whether or not you’re busy.

‘No, no, we can go there now,’ you say, then glance away because of how embarrassingly eager you sound.

‘Good,’ Gale says and takes hold of your hand more firmly. Nira catches your eye and smiles as he begins to walk by her.

‘Have fun!’ she says.

‘See you later, Nira,’ Gale says to her, you only manage a nod as you feel rather tongue tied.

***

Gale’s room is definitely cleaner than some of the guys’ rooms you had seen within the dormitory rooms of Blackstaff Academy. Oh, there’s robes tossed over chairs, the desk is littered with books, papers, quills, an open box of herbs and crystals and sublimates. But there’s no forgotten plates or dirty cups. Gale’s room actually smells quite good too, a faint hint of bergamot and cedar. He pulls out the chair in front of the desk and turns it around to face the bed, then gestures for you to sit in the chair. You sit down, nervously placing your hands in front of your belly, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Gale closes the bedroom door, then sits down on the bed opposite you.

‘So, now that Nira isn’t around, you definitely want to do this? He asks.

You nod, your throat feels very dry and tight. Gale smiles at you softly. ‘Just want to check, as I say, don’t want to do this with anyone who has doubts. I’d like to ask you a few things first.’

You nod again and curse yourself for losing all sense of any wit or wisdom you once had in your brain! But Gale is relaxed and begins work on removing his boots. ‘First, easy one, do you want me to lock the door or just have it closed. I’m sure you know I have a tressym and she comes and goes as she pleases, and while she’s respectful and polite, I don’t put it past some of our classmates not to barge in!’

You think about it carefully, then say, ‘Lock the door please.’

He casts arcane lock on the door and then grins at you, you can’t help smiling back. ‘And you know knock, so you want to get out you’re free to go whenever you want,’ he says, the implication runs underneath, you’re in control, what you say goes, if you don’t like it you can go and there won’t be any hurt feelings. You feel rather touched he’s going to all this effort.

‘Next question, would you prefer to be partially clothed or entirely naked? When I do this I do quite enjoy touching my partner everywhere, but your comfort is more important than what I find enjoyable,’ Gale says.

You look away, you still feel self-conscious about your belly and you can’t imagine Gale would want to touch the soft, fleshy weight of it, let alone even see it! ‘I’ll keep my blouse on, if that’s alright,’ you mutter.

His two fingers catch under your chin and he lifts your head. ‘It’s fine by me, but it’s more important that it’s what you find alright, your comfort comes first. Now, biggest and hardest question,’ he says, smiling. ‘Can I kiss you or would you rather I didn’t and just work my magic between your legs?’

‘Yes,’ you whisper, your eyes are captured entirely by his and your voice sounds faint. ‘You can kiss me.’

His hand slips down your cheek, lightly resting against your neck, his fingers curve round your head and he pulls you forward. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you sweetly at first, tentative, gentle, as though he is worried you might flinch away, but nothing could be further from the truth. Your heart hammers in your chest and you feel like you might forget to breathe. Your hand hesitantly goes to his chest, you don’t want to push your luck, but he instead presses his free hand over yours and you can feel the warmth of him bleeding through his shirt. He lets out a groan and then pulls away from you, breathing hard and certainly wearing an expression of wanting to eat you up. 

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘If I’m not careful I’ll get carried away!’

You wonder what ‘carried away’ might entail, given what you’re about to do. But you don’t have much time to think about it, he helps you up from the chair and unties the laces of your skirt. He tugs it down over your hips and you watch him bite his lip when your thighs come into view, he’s utterly focused on your legs and his hand reaches out eagerly, but he seems to collect himself to not just grab a meaty handful. Gale gently strokes down your thigh and guides you to the bed, grabbing the pillows and putting them behind your back. He removes the slippers that had been on your feet, tossing them off into a corner of the room and seems to admire the stockings you wear, though they aren’t particularly sexy you think, just the fairly standard academy uniform ones. Once you’re comfortable, he returns to looking at your legs, he traces his fingers up from your ankles to just behind your knees, making you shiver. You still feel a bit embarrassed about Gale seeing you like this, of opening your legs so he can see all of you.

Gale catches your eye and smiles. He leans down and kisses you, that same sweet, soft kiss. ‘You alright?’ he whispers.

‘Mmhm,’ you manage, well at least you made a sound this time. Gale chuckles quietly.

‘You look so beautiful,’ he says, then trails kisses down your mouth, your jaw and neck, nipping at your ear and making you gasp as the hot little jolt of pleasure soars through you. You decide to ignore that him saying you’re beautiful is probably both something he says to all the girls who come to him for this and also definitely a lie in your case.

He scoots down the bed and slowly pulls apart your legs, his stare is so intense you have to close your eyes. His fingers skim up your legs, his nails stroke down your thighs, until they reach the crease between them and your mound. 

‘Hmm pretty,’ he says, and he pulls his right hand away for a moment. You open your eyes to see him with his thumb in his mouth that he pulls out with a pop and then he places it against your clit and circles it. The sensation makes you gasp and arch up, though you still cover your belly with your arm. Gale lets out another tight groan and suddenly lies down between your legs, his fingers still play with your clit, feather-light touches sliding down to your entrance and teasing it, then going back up making you bite your lip hard to not let out a sound.

‘You can make as much noise as you like, in fact I’d rather you do,’ he says, then brings one of your thighs over his shoulder. Your eyes flicker open as he presses kisses against it. He nips at the sensitive skin, a playful, teasing bite. ‘It tells me if I’m doing a good job.’

He keeps kissing down your thigh and suddenly he’s at the apex, his hungry dark eyes watching you intently, you can feel his breath on your nether regions, your belly feels tight and it’s all you can do to both stay on the bed exactly where you are or beg him to relieve you of the growing ache and need for something. He gives you one quick, delicious smile and then buries himself between your thighs. You don’t know what to expect, but his warm tongue darting out, circling your clit and then more firmly suckling it makes you feel like a hot jolt of electricity zapped through your body. The pleasure is mind melting and Gale is all to happy to apparently drown in you, his mouth and lips and tongue… You forget yourself, forget all your shame, the hatred of your body, the disgust you feel with yourself, and surrender yourself utterly to pleasure. 

He’s good, too good. He seems to cotton on quickly to what you like, how best to draw out every bit of pleasure, everything that makes your toes curl, that tighten the muscles in your thighs, that makes you instinctively grasp a handful of his brown hair between your hands and he keeps bringing you to the peak of pleasure over and over, until you see stars in your eyes and feel so lost to it all, so desperate you wind up babbling and pleading for him to let you cum.

‘Please Gale, please, please, don’t stop, please don’t stop. I need it, I need it so badly!’

You feel his laughter vibrate through his body, but finally, mercifully, he acquiesces and you are undone by pleasure, it roars through your body like a furnace, his tongue still maddeningly teasing your clit and you are left almost sobbing on the bed, uncaring of the warm gush between your legs, the air not filling your lungs enough, the world feels dizzy and spectacular and glorious. His head pops up and you can’t help the laugh you let slip at his slightly dazed, but altogether thoroughly pleased expression. 

‘You need to taste yourself,’ he insists, and he kisses you again fiercely, his tongue sliding into your mouth and you do. It’s not a bad taste to your surprise, musky and a little tart, but intoxicating and sweet. Once he’s satisfied he raises his head, though he’s still lying on top of you, he rests his forehead against yours and sighs contentedly. His chin and small beard is soaked through. ‘How was that?’ he asks.

It takes you a moment to clear your throat and find your voice, but more because you’ve been done in, not because you are flustered. ‘Good, very, very good. Thank you.’

‘No, thank you,’ he says, and you let out a breath of laughter that he’s still ever the gentleman. He gets to his feet, grabs an empty basin and a cloth, and comes back to your side. He fills the bowl with warm water using a prestidigitation spell and starts work cleaning you up, tenderly washing you down, though you almost feel a little disappointed you couldn’t keep the slick between your thighs. There’s already a delightful prickling sensation from where his beard rubbed against your legs.

He helps you to your feet, then picks up your skirt, giving it a little shake to remove any dust and holding it open for you to step in. ‘I can manage to dress myself,’ you say.

‘I know, didn’t doubt that, Miss beats-me-soundly-at-alchemy,’ he teases. ‘But I like doing this.’

He brings over your shoes and insists on helping you with those too, having you sit back down on the bed as he puts them on your feet. You have a feeling it might just be because he gets to touch your legs once more.

‘You have the best legs,’ he murmurs. 

You let out a snort of laughter. ‘Given how many you’ve apparently seen, I doubt that!’

But he vehemently shakes his head. ‘I mean it, the best legs in the whole school. If you ever wish for another time I’d be happy to oblige, but I’d quite like it if you sat on my face.’

‘Gale, I’d squish you or break your nose!’ you say.

His eyes gleam at the thought. ‘Well worth the risk!’ He gets to his feet, then offers you a hand and after helping you up, he turns your hand over and presses a kiss to the knuckles. ‘Please come back any time.’

You shiver with delight at the thought, but simply nod and leave the room.

***

Of course Nira wants all the juicy, sordid details and you spend the better part of the evening quietly whispering and giggling in your dormitory room as you recount it. She does seem surprised though when you mention that Gale had asked if he could kiss you.

‘Really? He didn’t ask to kiss me,’ she muses, then gives a shrug. ‘Maybe that’s just something new he does, though I swear Jacanthe was just before you and she didn’t talk about him kissing her. I’ll have to ask her at breakfast.’

It’s an odd, trivial notion you’re sure, but you can’t help the pleased little smile at the thought that maybe, just maybe he had solely wanted to kiss you. But you dismiss it, Gale could have any women at the academy and you know better than to get swept away with the idea that maybe his feelings ran deeper for you than anyone else!

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Series Masterlist

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Chapter 6

Warnings: Allusions to abuse, Reader’s poor mental health

It was nearly dusk when the three of you finally reached the prison gates. You had awoken a few hours earlier but remained quiet, only taking breaks when the men did. You didn’t want to bother them, especially Daryl, with anything trivial. Everything already seemed so fragile. 

Your first experience with a walker had been terrifying. You didn’t know what you had been expecting but seeing a rotting human face beneath the water’s surface just as its slimy fingers had wrapped around your ankle was not it. You had been so scared that you hadn’t had the sense of mind to watch it being handled. 

Now, still cradled in Daryl’s arms, you had a front row seat. There were several of the dead shuffling around the gates, making sounds that had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Rick was carefully circling Daryl, making sure none of the corpses managed to get too close while the gate slid open. You assumed the archer didn’t set you down because you were unable to defend yourself. You did feel mighty safe where you were. 

Once the gate was closed and locked, your legs were lowered until your feet touched the ground. There were a few people there, and every eye was on you. Absently, you took a step back and placed yourself just behind Daryl’s shoulder. 

“Who’s this?” A woman with shorn silver hair asked. Her hand was on the handle of a knife on her belt, but her expression was kind. 

“This is Y/N.” Rick supplied, hugging a young boy against his side. The action made the large hat on the kid’s head tilt, and he gave a look of annoyance as he corrected it. “Daryl did some… bargaining at one of the places we visited so she was allowed to leave.”

“Allowed?” The kid asked, watching you with a curious expression. 

“S’a long story.” Daryl huffed, beginning the trek up toward the main building with you right on his heels. There were people in the tower you passed, mere silhouettes in the dimming light, but Daryl waved after a man’s voice called out in greeting. Aside from that, the outside was void of people. 

The archer opened a large metal door and held it, letting you pass through before following. There was no one just inside but you could hear conversations and movement further ahead. You didn’t seem to be heading for that though. You were guided up a small set of stairs to someone’s living area. Considering Daryl pulled off his vest and draped it over the railing, you surmised it was likely his. 

“Wait here. M’a see where Rick wants ta put ya.” 

You sat down on the mattress, pulling your knees to your chest. “Could I… I’d like to stay with you.”

“Ain’t gon’ happen.” He replied instantly. There was no bite but sounded resolute. 

“Please?” You pressed, hugging your legs tighter. “I don’t want to be with strangers.”

“Lady, I am a stranger!” Daryl yelled, jabbing a finger into his own chest. His shoulders fell when you flinched almost violently, reining in his exasperation with a deep breath. 

“Yes, but… you paid for me. Bought me, fair and square.” You wiped angrily at your eyes, cursing yourself for not holding your composure in front of him. This was not what you were taught. Big Jazz would have flogged you. It was clear to you that you continued to push your luck with Daryl. Eventually, his intentions would be made clear. Maybe he just liked to play with his food first. “That means that you’re the closest thing to…family that I have.”

That made something in his chest hurt. “That’s why ya need ta be with them.”

“But—”

“Ain’t nothin’ else ta say. Wait here.” He snapped, turning his back on you before you watched him disappear down the stairs. 

You sat in the corner of the cell assigned to you, knees pulled to your chest, making yourself as small as possible. It reminded you so much of your cage in the back of Big Jazz’s club. This one at least had a bed, but without a customer in it, it felt wrong to use it. 

Even more confounding was that the cell door had been left open and a sheet hanged in the open space. “For privacy” the woman called Carol had told you.  She had brought you fresh clothes, guessing your size and worrying once she saw you again that they might swallow you whole. They laid in a neat, folded pile on the mattress. A bowl of warm stew was offered but you had turned your head, too nauseated from the anxiety clawing at your gut to even think of eating. 

Carol had offered to help you settle in, even suggesting she brush your hair. You had just stared at her, confused at her kindness when you knew she was above you in every way. The girls at the club would never offer such consideration. Some had been nice enough, but given your ‘history,’ they mostly chose to use you as a scapegoat when things would go wrong for them. 

Carol had been fully dressed, from her shirt and camisole to her booted feet. It was a wonder Daryl let her get away with that. That led to the thought that maybe Daryl wasn’t actually the man in charge. You’d have to tread carefully if that was the case. Any of the men could be leading and you couldn’t slip up like you had so many times in front of the archer. 

“Y/N?” Carol called from behind the curtain. “May I come in?” You pulled your legs impossibly closer and didn’t answer. “If you don’t answer, I’m going to assume it’s okay for me to come in.” She added in a no nonsense tone. Fear churned in your belly, so unsure of this new place and its inhabitants. You felt as though you were walking on eggshells already and no one seemed to be giving you any real direction. “Coming in.” The sheet lifted and Carol ducked below it, looking to the bed first before eventually spotting you in the corner. “Now, what on earth are you doing over there?”

She crouched to your level but didn’t advance any closer. “Did you not want to get changed? I only wanted to wash the clothes you have and return them to Daryl but that can wait until tomorrow if you’re more comfortable.”

Your fingernails were digging into the sides of your legs, your face drifting lower and lower behind your knees to hide from her. She seemed kind, but looks could be deceiving in the world you lived in now. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Carol shifted to sit on the floor, cross-legged. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to be sweetly picking you apart, analyzing you with a calmness that made you even more uncomfortable. “Alright.” She finally said as she climbed to her feet. “When you’re feeling more settled in, we can talk. I think you might find we have a lot in common.” 

Taking two steps, she paused. She pursed her lips and picked up the pile of clothing. You thought she meant to take items back but she simply placed them on the small table across from the bed. With slow, deliberate movements, she turned down the blanket and fluffed the pillow. “Goodnight.” She smiled that soft smile and lifted the blanket, letting it fall behind her. 

You waited what you thought might have been at least a couple of hours, well after the prison had gone quiet. With practiced silence, you snatched the blanket from the bed and pulled the sheet aside. No one seemed to be awake. Your bare feet hardly made a sound while padding across the ledge and down the stairs. You couldn’t stay in that cell a moment longer. Consequences be damned. 

Daryl opened the door to the cellblock with seasoned care. The sun was barely up. Most everyone would still be asleep. He had caught a couple of hours after Carol had come to collect you, then he took the night watch to have some time outside to just think. His head had been a mess ever since you came tumbling into his life. Well, technically, he had put you there. 

He didn’t regret it. You deserved to be free but you were now in a world where therapy and support groups didn’t exist. He had brought you to a prison full of traumatized people, hoping someone could help you get your head on straight. Hope. Did he really hope for anything anymore? It hadn’t really got him anywhere. 

Still, he hoped you would settle in with the people there. He hoped you had found some sort of comfort with a small meal and an actual bed. He hoped you had slept well your first night. For someone who didn’t dare to hope, he was sure throwing a lot out there for you. 

He didn’t even realize he had stopped to stare down toward the cells during his thoughts of you. Ready to slap himself, he scrubbed a hand over his face and then through his hair. Carol would have come to him if there had been any problems. The archer shook his head and continued toward his perch, ready to forego breakfast and get some actual sleep. If his brain would just shut the fuck up. 

He climbed the stairs as quietly as possible, even as he heard the tell tale sounds of others beginning their day. They could all do without him for a few hours. Maybe if you were informed he was sleeping, you’d feel compelled to stay closer to the cells and not wander into his personal space. 

Once again, hope had failed him. As he brought both boots down onto the metal floor of his perch, his shoulders slumped and he let his head drop back with a sound that could only be described as a frustrated groan. 

You were there, curled up on a blanket below the foot of his mattress. Sound asleep. 

[oo-delallymrcrow]

First Impression

Summary: You and Cooper met for the first time, the feeling is electric and your chemistry is undeniable. You want to be professional but you can’t help the feelings he gives you with his charms.

A/N: I’m so excited for the future chapters. The build up is honestly killing me because I just want all the love and feels. But I promise the wait will be worth it, especially since that carriage scene (iykyk) has been stuck in my head when writing this story.

No warnings still.

Walking into the studio that day was a little nerve wracking. You were dressed up in your favorite pink dress, making sure to make a good first impression with the studio executives. Today was your first meeting with everyone. The cast and crew getting together to go over how filming will go. When everyone's schedule was and where everyone needed to be on what day.

You were busy looking around the studio's lobby when someone came walking up to you. You turned and flashed your brightest smile as you shook hands with the young man.

“Good afternoon Miss. L/N. My name is David and I will be your assistant on this film.”

“Well hello David please just call me Y/N.”

He smiled at you before pulling his hand away to motion down the hall.

“Alright Y/N. We're all meeting down in this conference room. It's mostly the actors for right now but everyone will meet on the set in studio one, cast and crew.”

You nodded along as he lead you down into the conference room. The door was slightly open so you can hear all the voices talking inside. You took in a deep breath before you walked through the door with David following behind.

“Here she is ladies and gentlemen. Our fabulous Y/N has graced us with her presence.”

You smiled as the man at the head of the table stood to walk to you. He brought your hand up to hold close to his chest as you giggled at his praise.

“My dear you are perfect for this part. I am so excited to have you playing Eleanor. I told the studio that I would have no other person for the part and if it wasn't you I wouldn't direct the movie.”

“Oh,” you realized that this man was the director, “you must be Tim. I am so excited to be apart of your movie. When I read the script I fell in love with the story.”

He smiled and waved his hand like your compliments were making him embarrassed. He gestured around the room and introduced you to everyone. He introduced you to James, a rival to your love interest; Elizabeth, who was playing your friend in the movie; and a few others.

“And finally the man of the hour.”

You gasped as the last man stood and flashed a bright smile to you.

“Cooper Howard! I am such a big fan of yours,” you gushed as you shook his hand. You felt yourself get a little red as he chuckled, realizing you were probably embarrassing yourself. You realized you were still shaking his hand, you went to pull it away when he surprised you. He brought your hand up and leaning over a little, brushing his lips against your knuckles.

“I'm honored to have such a big fan,” he pressed a kiss to them before standing upright, almost towering over you. “Especially one so pretty like yourself.”

Your mouth fell open a little as you felt yourself get a little heated at his intense stare. Tim slapped his shoulder with a laugh before gesturing to a chair next to Cooper's. Cooper pulled it out for you and you said a small thank you as you moved quickly to sit. You cleared your throat as you settled in and took a quick peek to see if anyone was looking at you after that introduction. Thankfully, everyone was already looking at Tim as he started going into depth about the movies story and how he wanted the next few months to go.

“Alright now that we have a planned schedule I think it's time for lunch,” Timm glances at the watch on his wrist. “Then we'll meet in Studio One to get with the crew. After that you'll all be shown to your trailers and we'll call it a day.”

Everyone stood and left in their little groups. You went to stand before a hand caught your arm, you turned as Cooper stood and placed his hands on the back of your chair, pulling it back to help you out. You blushed as you thanked him and took his hand in yours.

“Everyone kind of left in a hurry,” he spoke as he lead you out the door. You took note how you were still holding his hand as he walked you both out. “Would you like to grab lunch with me? We can talk about how we want our characters to interact.”

You blinked up at him as your brain took a moment to process. Lunch. With him. Yes, you would like to have lunch with him. You gave him a small smile as he stopped and looked at you for an answer.

“I think that's an excellent idea Mr. Howard.”

He gave you a chuckle as he opened the door to lead outside, this time placing his hand in the small of your back to guide you out.

“Please sweetheart. We're going to be working very closely together, just call me Cooper.”

You turned your head to stare up at him as you spoke in a soft voice, “alright Cooper. I would like to have lunch with you.”

You swear his eyes darted down to your lips but as soon as you blinked he was pushing you forward to walk over to the little cafeteria that everyone was headed to. As you entered, you noticed a lot of people were looking at the two of you and whispering to each other. You ignored that as you walked forward and grabbed a sandwich and some cut up fruit with a water bottle.

You know what everyone was whispering about. Everyone has heard of Cooper Howard and the nastiness of his divorce and the roles he's lost. The rumors that flowed through Hollywood and into offices. Your agent, Amelia Evans, even gossiping with you about it. But you were never one to judge someone, especially in such situations that you have never experienced. So you decided to not listen to others opinions and get to know Cooper.

As you turned to choose a table you didn't like how loud and cramped it felt, so you decided to enjoy the sunshine and sit outside. You could feel a few stares as you walked toward the door, a hand shooting out to grab rhe handle.

“Let me get that for you sweetheart.” Cooper murmured close to your ear, making you shiver at how close he was to you. He followed you out to a table and again pulled out your seat.

“You really don't have to be so nice Cooper,” you muttered as you glanced at your fruit cup. He sent a charming smile to you as he sat across from you.

“My momma taught me that I should always be respectful and a gentleman to everyone, especially to women.”

“Well I would like to thank her for raising such a respectful man.”

You smiled at his explanation and took a bite out of your sandwich, the both of you eating in peaceful silence. You thought that you would be awkward around the actor, especially with how famous and older he is, but you were quite comfortable around him.

”I’m surprised you wanted to eat with me.”

That brought your thoughts to a halt as he said that. You gave him a confused look as you took a sip of water. He was avoiding your gaze at this point so you spoke up.

”Why is that Cooper?”

”Well, with everything that happened.” He brought his hand up to gesture to himself. “I ain’t exactly popular with everyone right now. Especially with all the rumors and being casted out like nothing. I’m just surprised you sat with me. I wouldn’t blame you if you quit the movie.”

You shot your hand out to hold his hand that was on the table. You were that a little shock traveled up your arm and cleared your throat as you both stared down at your hands.

”I was taught by my father to never judge a book by its cover. I’ve held that rule close to me and I think that's what gave me so many opportunities to live the life I’ve wanted. I never judged you Cooper. There are so many rumors and tabloids about your life, I didn’t want to immediately judge you on them without knowing your story. So of course I agreed to have lunch with you and I will gladly stay in this movie.”

The words you said brought a smile to his face. He brought your hand up, kissing the back of it. His eyes caught yours as he spoke very softly, his lips brushing your hand with every word he spoke.

”Thank you sweetheart. I say you’re smarter than everyone I have worked with. I appreciate that you still want to work with me, especially with how pretty you are.”

That brought a faint blush to your cheeks at his words and how he’s still holding your hand. You gave him a smile as you both went back to eating your lunch. As you both finished up, David walked up to your table.

”Mr. Howard, (Y/N), I was told that the crew is still building one of the sets on Studio One so we will not be meeting there today. Wednesday is when filming starts so please be here at five in the morning for makeup. Would you like me to show you to your trailers?”

Cooper spoke up as you went to stand, “I know where they are. I’ll show (Y/N) where they are.”

”Okay.” David smiled at the both of us then looked at me with a clap of his hands. “My number is next to the phone in your trailer. If you need anything from me, don’t hesitate to call.”

”Thank you David,” you smiled at him then he was on his way. You looked back to Cooper as he gathered the trash from lunch to throw away.

”Come on sweetheart. Your trailer is next to mine.”

When he flashed another bright smile at you and walked to the trash can, the thought of Cooper’s trailer next to yours made you feel heat in your lower belly.You shook your head and tried to stop a few thoughts from flooding. The man got divorced and has been through a lot, nothing would happen between you two. Plus why would anything happen? You just met the man and you already felt a certain attraction to him.

It didn’t help that he was handsome, even with the scruff and slightly long hair, but you did have a slight crush on the man. You had a little thing for his character in ‘A Man and His Dog’. His charm on screen and off screen with his sweet words and actions did make you melt a little every time he spoke, his accent helped as well. Plus his eyes, they wanted you to get lost in them. With the way they shined and were so expressive. You wanted to get to know him better and the thought of spending months together made you giddy with nervousness and excitement.

”Ready to go?”

“Yes sir,” you smiled at him and paused at an emotion that filled his eyes. You didn’t know exactly what it was but as you stood it quickly went away. He offered his arm to you and you took it, intertwining your arms together, placing your hand on his bicep.

Taglist: @danveration , @thespritepepsi

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Dear Master Rolan

Based on a prompt by @faerunsbest, an AU in which Amelie is not "Tav" and instead went on the proposed trip to Calimshan to find a husband. She begins a correspondence with Rolan after the events of the game. SFW.

Dear Master Rolan,

I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Lady Amelie Wildheart, and I am writing to you to inquire if there are any tomes on wild magic you would recommend. As I’m sure you can guess, I’m a wild magic sorcerer. Most of my life, the bursts of wild magic that come from me are normally “adorable” according to my mother, Countess Luci Wildheart. However, they have on the rare occasion caused varying degrees of harm, much to my immense sadness and heartbreak. Perhaps there is some research or theory if wild magic bursts can be controlled in some way or prevent more deadly reactions.

Thank you so much for your time.

Sincerely,

Lady Amelie Wildheart

Rolan held the letter to his chest and sighed. If he was having an awful day (like today), then he would reread letters from Amelie.

No, you fool. Lady Amelie. She is a lady.

And my friend.

And I’ve fallen for her even though we’ve never met.

Letting out a frustrated growl, he folded the letter and put it back in its envelope. He then opened a locked drawer in his desk and placed the letter inside. Despite his mood, he could not resist smiling. In the past several months, his correspondence with her had only grown and deepened since her first letter. Rolan spent no small amount of time scouring Ramazith’s Tower for any and all tomes on wild magic, eagerly writing her a reply. What began as polite soon evolved into friendship which then changed into—

No.

She said herself she’s on a tour to Calimshan to hopefully find love. Her mother’s idea apparently after several failed attempts at arranging a marriage for her. How…how…can she still be unattached? She is wonderful and kind, thoughtful and funny, sweet with hints of spice.

No.

She calls me “dear friend.”

But…

He hastily searched for the envelope containing her latest letter.

Dear Rolan,

I hope this letter finds you well. I didn’t manage to find a copy of “Wild Magic: A Reconsideration.” However, I will be able to personally borrow it from you in a few weeks, because I’m finally coming home!

I’m so excited to be back in the Gate and see how the reconstruction is going (and maybe lend a mage hand or two to help). I can’t wait to see Mum and my friends.

I can’t wait to finally see you in person and meet Cal and Lia! Would you mind if I came by Ramazith’s Tower after I’ve settled in and have tea? If not, you are very much welcome at my home or Wildheart Manor.

Of course, please do not feel that we are obliged to do so. I know you are a very busy man with running the tower and shop as well as your other duties as Master of Ramazith’s Tower.

But if you would indulge a dear friend, then I would be most happy.

Yours,

Amelie

“Yours. How I wish I was yours.” He traced her signature with a clawed finger, frowning. “I would—”

“Rolan! Rolaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!” Lia’s voice called from the other side of his study door. “There’s someone here asking for you!”

I don’t have any appointments or meetings…do I?

“Who?”

“She said she’s here for Wild Magic: A Reconsideration.”

Rolan, Master of Ramazith’s Tower, nearly knocked over a sniggering Lia as he rushed out of his study and down the stairs to the main level of the shop.

Is it…

Could it be?

Her?

Then he remembered that he only knew Amelie was a half-elf and nothing else about her appearance.

“Excuse me, are you Rolan? The Master of Ramazith’s Tower?”

He turned to see a woman (a half-elf!!!!) with the most beautiful golden eyes staring back at him.

“Yes.”

Why is my heart pounding? Why does my tongue feel so clumsy and full in my mouth? Why do I feel sweaty? I JUST BATHED THIS MORNING.

The woman smiled. “Oh Rolan, it’s so lovely to see you. I’m Amelie…”

He fairly certain she was still speaking but could not make out the words.

Good gods.

She is stunning.

Gold eyes that shine with warmth. Copper colored hair. Freckles! Such lovely freckles. A sweet smile. Perfect, very kissable lips…NO.

She’s got a nice bosom…NO.

No.

Calm yourself, damn you!

“Rolan?”

He blinked. “Yes! Forgive me, I…it’s been…”

Amelie frowned and wrung her hands. “Oh. If it’s a bad time, then I can return another day. You see, I arrived home yesterday and wanted to see you, but—”

Acting on I’m not entirely sure what, he took her hands in his. “You are welcome here any day, any time, my lady. I would be most pleased if you stayed. Please.” Her hands are so soft and covered in more freckles. Who knew I was exchanging letters with a goddess?

“Really?” she asked with more a little hope. “I don’t want to impose, and I once again must ask for your forgiveness for coming unannounced.”

Please don’t say come.

He cleared his throat but before he could speak, she did.

“You see, Rolan…there was a reason why I came to see you and not simply because of a book.” Her words spilled out of her like a babbling brook, something Rolan found profoundly adorable. “I—”

Giving her hands a squeeze, he spoke softly, “Let us speak in my study. In private, my lady.”

Away from customers but mainly Cal and Lia, who are staring and giggling.

Fuck.

A light blush painted the half-elf’s cheeks. “Oh. Yes. Of course. Please, lead the way.”

As Rolan offered his arm as they ascended to the second floor, Lia elbowed her brother.

“How much do you want to bet that they’re both so awkward they don’t confess?” she laughed.

Cal rolled his eyes. “You have got to be kidding. Rolan has an entire speech ready, which I know because he insisted, I listen to him while he ‘practiced.’”

Trying not to laugh more, Lia glanced to the second floor and watched as Rolan and Amelie entered his study. “Don’t mess this up, big brother…”