#I finally did one of Alyssas tags

[novaursa]

Valyrian Bride (Continuation)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: When your older brother, Jacaerys, promised you to Cregan to be his bride, the Lord Stark did not expect what he got - a trueborn dragon. 

- Pairing: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: Final Chapter

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

Cregan Stark walked with the dragon princess by his side, feeling the eyes of his men and household upon them. There was a sense of pride that welled up inside him as they entered Winterfell’s stone halls. Not pride in himself, but in the fact that this fierce, regal woman—this vision of Old Valyria—was now his betrothed. It was no small thing to command the presence of such a creature, both her and the dragon she rode. The weight of that responsibility settled on his shoulders, but rather than burden him, it gave him a sense of purpose.

As they crossed the threshold into the Great Hall, the murmurs of those gathered inside came to a halt. Servants, bannermen, and even the most hardened of his household retainers stared openly. They weren’t accustomed to such grandeur, and even in a land where strength was admired, there was something otherworldly about the princess. Her silver-gold hair, the grace of her movements, and the quiet power that seemed to radiate from her drew their eyes like moths to flame.

The warmth of the hearthfire flickered against the cold stone walls, but in the presence of the dragon princess, it felt as though the heat came from her. She walked beside Cregan with an ease that belied her strength, her violet eyes scanning the hall as if she were already its lady, its queen.

Cregan couldn’t help but glance at her from the corner of his eye, watching as she moved like liquid fire, confident and unyielding. He could see the tension in the shoulders of his bannermen, the uncertainty in the eyes of the women who served the household. They were all taken aback, and Cregan couldn’t blame them. He had lived his whole life without seeing anyone like her, and he knew, without doubt, that no one here had ever stood before the true blood of Old Valyria until now.

She was a flame in the middle of a winter storm, a vivid contrast to the world of stone and snow that surrounded her.

“I trust the halls of Winterfell meet your expectations, my lady?” Cregan asked, his voice low but carrying in the stillness of the hall. He wanted to draw her into conversation, not only to ease his own nerves but to learn more of this woman who would soon be his wife.

She turned her gaze to him, a small smile curling on her lips, though it was hard to read the full depth of her thoughts. “It is as grand as the tales say, Lord Stark. A stronghold of honor and tradition.”

Her voice was steady, yet it held an edge to it, as if there was always something more behind her words. It was as though she was measuring everything, assessing him, the people around her, and the place she would soon call home.

“I trust it will serve as more than just a stronghold for you, my lady,” Cregan replied, his eyes meeting hers directly, a subtle challenge of his own. “Winterfell is now your home, and you are its future lady.”

The princess didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, Winterfell will be my home, but I have a home in the sky as well. I belong to both land and air, Lord Stark. Do not forget that.” There was a softness to her words, but it was clear. She may belong to the North by marriage, but her heart would always be tied to the skies, to her dragon.

Cregan inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I doubt anyone will forget, least of all after the sight of Vaetrix in our skies," he said, and then added, more softly, "She is a magnificent creature."

The princess's expression shifted slightly, pride mingled with affection as she spoke of her dragon. “Vaetrix is the daughter of Meleys, the Red Queen herself. Her lineage is one of fire and might. She carries the blood of dragons who have seen empires rise and fall, just as I do.”

Cregan’s brows raised slightly at the mention of Meleys. He had heard of the Red Queen, the swift and powerful dragon that had once belonged to Princess Rhaenys. Her reputation was legendary. To think that Vaetrix was her offspring made the connection between the princess and her dragon even more profound. "The Red Queen," Cregan murmured, nodding thoughtfully. "Your bond with her must be strong, then. I imagine not just any rider could command such a lineage."

Her eyes gleamed in response, as if the conversation about Vaetrix sparked something deeper within her. "A dragon and their rider are bound by more than blood, Lord Stark. We share a soul, a heart. Vaetrix and I have flown together since I was a girl. She is my closest companion, my fiercest ally."

There was a tenderness in her tone now, something almost protective. It made Cregan understand, even more clearly, the depth of the bond between her and the dragon. In a way, it reminded him of the wolves of his house—loyal, fierce, and bound by an unspoken connection. But this bond was greater, stronger, and far more dangerous. He respected it, even admired it.

“Then she will be an ally to the North as well,” Cregan said, his voice filled with conviction. "As you will be."

The princess turned her eyes back to him, her gaze sharp and knowing. "The North has been promised my fire, my lord. And I keep my promises."

Her words were more than just a vow—they were a reminder of the power she wielded, the power she had been born with. Cregan nodded in response, feeling a strange comfort in that certainty. He knew, without question, that she was someone who would fight with all her strength, for her family, her dragon, and soon, for the North.

They continued walking, Cregan leading her deeper into Winterfell’s great halls, where more of his household waited in silent anticipation. Every eye was upon them as they passed, but the princess seemed unbothered by the attention, as if she had long since grown used to the weight of expectation. Cregan noticed the way people parted in her presence, not out of fear, but out of reverence. She was the embodiment of fire, and all knew they were in the presence of something greater than themselves.

As they reached the heart of Winterfell, Cregan paused, turning to face her fully. “There will be a feast tonight in your honor. A celebration of our alliance.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “It will be modest compared to what you may be accustomed to, but we take pride in what the North can offer.”

The princess’s gaze softened slightly, a hint of warmth in her eyes. “The North has already offered me more than I expected. I look forward to seeing its hospitality, Lord Stark.”

There was no mockery in her voice, no hint of the condescension he might have expected from someone raised in the splendor of court life. Instead, there was a genuine respect, a willingness to embrace the new life she was entering. Cregan nodded, feeling that strange mix of pride and anticipation once more.

As the evening drew near, Cregan knew the feast would be only the beginning. He had secured an alliance, but in the dragon princess, he had gained something far more—a partner of equal strength, whose fire would one day burn alongside his own.

The Great Hall of Winterfell was alive with the low hum of voices as the feast unfolded, the hearths were burning high to accommodate a dragon princess in it. Platters of roasted meats and winter greens filled the long tables, while horns of ale and wine passed freely from hand to hand. The air was thick with the scent of food and the crackle of the great fires, but despite the bustle of the hall, all eyes kept drifting toward the high table, where Lord Cregan Stark and his betrothed sat in full view of his bannermen, retainers, and household.

Cregan himself sat straighter than usual, though his posture seemed almost relaxed, as if he were entirely at ease in this moment. His eyes often flicked to the princess seated beside him, watching her as she navigated the curious gazes of the Northmen with the same grace she had displayed all day. There was something undeniably striking about her here, amidst the rustic grandeur of Winterfell’s Great Hall—her silver-gold hair gleaming in the firelight, her violet eyes calm yet ever watchful.

When the time came for toasts, the hall fell into a deep silence as Cregan stood, his horn of ale in hand. The attention of every man, woman, and servant shifted to him, their lord. His voice, strong and sure, carried through the hall.

“Tonight,” he began, “we honor more than just a union between two houses. We honor the blood of dragons and the fire that has joined with the winter.” He paused, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on the princess beside him. “The daughter of Princess Rhaenyra, the only daughter of House Targaryen, has come to the North. She is now our guest, and soon, she will be my wife.”

A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd, but it was tempered by the awe that still hung in the air. Many had never seen a woman like her, let alone one of royal Valyrian descent. To them, she was more legend than flesh and blood.

Cregan raised his horn higher, his eyes never leaving hers. “To the Lady of Fire,” he said, his voice full of pride. “To the daughter of Rhaenyra!”

The hall erupted in cheers, the echo of voices bouncing off the ancient stone walls. Horns were raised, clashing together in raucous celebration as the Northmen embraced their lord’s words. And yet, even amidst the noise, Cregan saw the way his men stole glances at the princess, admiration clear in their eyes.

The princess raised her own horn in response, a subtle smile playing on her lips as she inclined her head toward Cregan. "To the North," she said, her voice soft but carrying through the hall with a clarity that commanded attention. "And to the strength of its people."

The words were simple, but they carried weight. The hall seemed to settle after that, the conversations resuming with renewed vigor as the feast carried on. Yet Cregan’s focus remained fixed on her.

As the noise of the hall filled the space around them, Cregan leaned slightly toward her, his voice low so that their conversation would remain private. “You’ve impressed them already,” he remarked, his eyes glinting with a rare hint of amusement. “It takes much to win the respect of Northmen, but I see it in their eyes.”

The princess turned to him, her violet gaze meeting his with a certain calm, but there was a flicker of curiosity there too. “I hadn’t expected to win their respect so soon,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “But I do not think it is me they respect so much as the idea of the alliance—of what we represent.”

Cregan considered her words, his brow furrowing slightly as he mulled them over. “Perhaps,” he allowed, “but it’s more than just an alliance. They see you, a dragon’s daughter, and they understand the power that you carry. You’re no simple marriage prize.”

Her lips curved upward, just a fraction. “Is that how you see me, Cregan Stark? A symbol of power?”

He chuckled softly, the sound low in his throat. “I see you as many things, princess. Power is just one of them.”

Her smile grew more visible now, and there was something lighter in her expression, as if she were pleased by his words, even if she did not show it openly. “And what else do you see, my lord?”

Cregan leaned in just a fraction more, his voice dropping. “I see a woman with a mind as sharp as the blade she wears. I see a rider whose bond with her dragon makes her stronger than any queen. And,” his eyes softened, the faintest glimmer of admiration in them, “I see someone who will stand beside me, not behind me.”

She studied him for a moment, as if weighing the truth of his words, and then nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Good,” she said, her tone firm but carrying an edge of warmth. “Because I have no intention of standing behind anyone.”

Cregan allowed himself a smile then, something rare and unguarded. It felt easy, natural in her presence, something he hadn’t anticipated. She wasn’t just a symbol of fire and dragons—she was alive, filled with strength and grace in equal measure, and with each passing moment, Cregan found himself looking forward to what the future might bring with her at his side.

For the rest of the evening, Cregan’s mood remained light, his smiles more frequent than anyone could remember seeing before. The hall, filled with food, laughter, and music, felt brighter somehow, as if the fire she had brought with her from the skies had seeped into Winterfell itself. There was a warmth there that was new, a change carried on dragon’s wings.

Years later, when scholars and storytellers recalled that night, they would write about how Lord Cregan Stark, known for his stoic nature, had smiled more during that feast than any had seen before, save for two other occasions—on his wedding day, and when the first child of the Dragon Princess was born in the cold halls of Winterfell. But for now, the legend was only beginning.

As the feast wore on, Cregan turned to her again, unable to resist asking, “Do you think Vaetrix feels at ease here in the cold North? It’s far from the warmth of Dragonstone.”

She tilted her head, her silver-gold hair catching the firelight once more. “Vaetrix is not concerned with warmth or cold,” she replied. “She is her mother’s daughter, bred for strength and flight, and the North’s cold will not trouble her. Besides,” her smile grew, more playful this time, “she knows I will not be far from her.”

Cregan nodded. “She is a creature of legend, like her rider,” he said softly.

The princess turned her eyes to him, the faintest flush of warmth in her cheeks. For a moment, the fire of her Valyrian blood met the unyielding strength of the North in Cregan’s gaze, and in that shared moment, both knew their bond would be one of legend.

The fire had come to Winterfell, and it would burn for generations to come.

[starlightsreigns]

hold up | a lemonade story

summary ⇢ mellie's hanging on by a thread. how much longer can she hang on when one question coils deep in her? is roman... cheating on her? word count ⇢ 1.4k tags ⇢ minors, do not interact. implied cheating | two ; denial “What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you”

i don’t wanna lose my pride, but imma fuck me up a bitch.

“Melody, you’re going to drive yourself insane,” My friend Alyssa sighs. “Don’t you trust him?” 

That’s a great question. However, I’m past the point of giving a damn.  I’m literally driving myself to insanity with all of this and I’m not sure how to bring it up. How do you confront the love of your life about something like this without him immediately going on the defense?

“I don’t trust him, that’s the problem, and I don’t know how to get back to that point anymore.” 

Alyssa is my moral compass, she tries to keep me levelheaded when I feel myself slipping. She’s my best friend, but she’s a big fan of Roman and I’s relationship — Alyssa refuses to believe that he’s this person, that he can be a cheater when he’s been so caring. She sees the best in him. 

“Mellie, what has he done to make you feel this way?”

My eyes meet hers, “Don’t make me feel crazy, Aly, I’m already losin’ it here.”

“I’m not sayin’ that, I promise, I’m just tryna understand how you go to this point.” Alyssa sits up. “Just help me understand and I promise we can fuck his shit up tonight.” She offers a smile. 

While she’s the more levelheaded one of us, the thing I love the most about her is her willingness to support any and every decision I make — even if it’s the craziest shit she’s ever heard.

That’ll be helpful later. 

Somethin’ don’t feel right because it ain’t right.. Comin’ up after midnight

The house is the coldest it’s ever been in a long time. I’m pretty sure the only source of heat is coming from the anger seeping out of my pores when I hear his keys in the lock as I sit on the couch. A book sits in my lap untouched as he comes in through the door. 

“Hey, Mellie,” Roman throws my way lazily. He comes over to kiss my cheek and I can’t help but smell the perfume that radiates off his body. Chanel. At least the bitch has taste. “You up late.” 

My brain wants to cuss him out, but thankfully restraint still exists when I finally reply. “I’d say the same for you, baby, where you been at?”  

Roman glances in my direction while heading to the kitchen, “I went to the PC then had dinner with the twins.” 

“Oh, the twins are in town?” My eyes train on his back. 

There’s no way they can be in town. During a call with Trinity earlier in the day, she told me that her husband and his brother were doing house shows during the week, so, it’s impossible for them to be at dinner. Yet, he seems to think I’m the biggest idiot on planet earth. 

“Yeah, we went to that steakhouse on 85th.” Roman shuts the fridge and turns to look at me. “Then we got drinks at Tini’s and watched the game.” 

Of course, he has an answer for everything. A tinge of rage strikes me in my chest while watching how calm he is. 

“What game did you watch?” 

That stops him for a moment. 

But I continue, “I watched a couple on split screen.” 

Roman runs his hand over his beard then takes a long swig of beer. 

“Cowboys versus the Texans was good.” I bait with a small smile. 

“Yeah, that’s the one, we ain’t seen the results though.” 

Well, of course, he didn’t, maybe because those two teams didn’t have a game tonight. 

To not lose my cool, I let the conversation go. I can see him watching me from the corner of my eyes as I pretend to read my book. There’s nothing else I can say. I’ve caught him in more lies than I can count — and there’s a feeling in my gut that tells me he knows. 

Can’t you see there’s no other man above you?

Most people would judge me and I don’t blame them. Even with my suspicion, I can’t deny the love and affection I have. So, here I am under him. I can’t help it. 

“Look at me, baby,” Roman’s rough voice sharpens my attention. “you look so beautiful.” He runs his hand down my cheek. 

His eyes on me, for the first in a while, feels like how it used to be. It makes me forget all the pain that I’ve felt for so long. This is what I want back. 

My hand grips his wrist, pulling him down onto the bed, maneuvering so I’m on top. 

The gems on my acrylic nails catch some of the light from the moon. My hands are pressed against his chest, holding me steady, keeping the rhythm of our skin slapping together. I throw my head back with a moan, feeling the way he raises his hips to reach deeper into me. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” I breathe out, leaning down to kiss his neck. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” 

It was the truest thing I’ve ever said. It is the truest thing I’ll ever say. 

How did it come down to this?  scrolling through your call list

His phone is empty. She’s not on here, but I know she exists. How can I keep living in the paranoia where I know the ghost exists but there’s no proof of it? I toss his phone back onto his side of the bed with a huff just as he walks out of the bathroom. 

“what’s wrong?” He takes a look at my exasperated expression.

“You know how much I love you, right?” My voice is harsher than I wanted, but it catches his attention. “And we made our vows to be loyal to one another, i’m keeping my end.” 

Roman knits his eyebrows together, “I love you, too, Mellie.” He sits at the edge of the bed. “I’ll always be here.” 

The reassurance I was hoping to feel never comes. Instead, I’m slowly feeling rage. But, I don’t respond but nod. I can’t look jealous or crazy, that’ll only drive him away or make him sneakier. If anything, I need him to slip up. That’s the only way I can make sense of this — Lord, give me a sign. 

What’s worse? Lookin’ jealous or crazy?... I’d rather be crazy. 

Sleep was the last thing on my mind. Instead, my eyes fixated on the TV screen that flickered in the darkness. Roman was sound asleep beside me and my nerves had finally calmed enough for me to wonder if I was going insane. 

I’ve found no tangible proof. Maybe, just maybe, I’m convincing myself of something that isn’t true –possibly self-sabotaging and self-destructing. If I don’t stop now, all my hair will fall out from the stress. Three months of thinking these thoughts are slowly killing me. Not that he’s noticed, but I’ve lost 25 pounds in my mission to find out the nonexistent truth. 

My eyes are slowly closing when his screen catches my attention. It’s three in the morning, who could possibly be texting him? I’ve just come to an agreement with myself and now I’m plunged back into the uncertainty. I should just turn over and fall asleep, but I just need to look at the message and I’ll be over it. 

J: are you really not coming over tonight, baby? i miss you. mellie sees you more than enough. just come over and be back before she wakes up.

My eyes scan the message over and over again. I’m not sure what else I’m looking for, but I’m hoping that at some point the message would read something different — something that doesn’t confirm all my suspicions. I cover my mouth when the tears start to fall, not wanting to wake him up and find me in this position. My chest feels heavy and my feet are a ton of bricks when I make it out of bed. 

Out in the hallway, I slide down the wall with my hands still firmly covering my mouth to swallow the sobs. This isn’t what I wanted nor was it what I needed. My brain feels scrambled with incoherent thoughts. What do I do now? Should I leave? Should I take a baseball bat to his head? Yet, the only thing I’m sure of right now is that I might throw up.

It’s difficult for me to get back up to my feet. My body shakes uncontrollably in the darkness and my breathing is shallow until I’m taking deep breaths. I turn to glance into the room, feeling my skin heat up. This feeling isn’t sadness, it isn’t hurt, or disappointment. I’m past denial – what I’m feeling is scorn and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. 

“But still inside me coiled deep was the need to know. Are you cheating? Are you cheating on me?”

please excuse the errors, classes are kicking my ass. hope you’ve enjoyed it 🫶🏽 very excited to post “don’t hurt yourself” x

[just-some-random-blogger]

The Salt In My Blood

You were the beloved Jewel of the Realm, the youngest Targaryen born to Alyssa and Baelon. Though your nature resembled more a lamb rather than a dragon, you posed a threat at court, for a single word out of your mouth inspired a thousand actions from The King and The Rogue Prince. Thus, your match with the Lord of the Iron Islands.

Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader x Dalton Greyjoy | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, targcest (sister!reader), reader has valyrian features (silver hair, violet eyes), power imbalance, graphic depictions of violence/assault/murder/death, canon divergence/inaccurate timelines, ye old misogyny, fuckedupedness of men, smut (dub con, loss of virginity, piv, biting, marking, breeding kink, corruption kink, baby trapping, cockwarming, cunnilingus), internet translated high valyrian, angst, social commentary, typos, etc.

A/N: !!mind the warnings!! This is really yucky because it is. all men do is hurt women. Also I did basic research for Dalton Greyjoy and just used him cuz I needed a character. idk what he's actually like and I'm 99% sure this timeline doesn't add up so, just roll w it ok? Ok. If my internet translated high valyrian sucks, well, it be like that. And surprise surprise i made another song for a fic because i should make use of my music degree while im jobless 💔 my heart goes out to @arabellasleopardcoat because her fic capital really poked my brain and got me fired up enough to write/create again, even if just for this fic. i love you.

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @thebullship @sa3losa @sloanexx @azperja @happilyhertale

Father, father, shining star, save my brother from the war. Mother, mother, hold me close. I fear brother won't come home. So, I pray, night and day, I do my duty here. Find me, oh [a] husband, so fierce with not a fear. Father, father hears my prayer. Mother, mother dries my tears. All my strife ends tonight for my husband's here.

"But what if someone sees," you whisper.

Daemon clutches your hand tighter as you hurry down the hall. He looks over to you, your expression matches your shaky voice.

Perhaps, had the conditions been different, he'd be softened by your words. The ferocity of his protectiveness would have made him stop in his footsteps and clutch your cheek. Perhaps he would have promised to safeguard you.

But these conditions did not elicit such urges from him. No. It stoked the fires bacchanal in his gut. The stolen taste of your honeyed lips in the garden was not enough.

Daemon finally brings his darling sister into his bedroom, and there, he answers you, "who would dare spy on the king's heir, the prince of the realm?"

Your breath quickens at the sound of your brother locking the door.

The prince of the realm stalks over to you, a dragon gazing upon a meek lamb.

Again, you whisper, "what if someone finds out?"

Daemon could growl. He almost did as he grabs your waist and sinks his head into the crook of your tender neck. You don't even react when he does this, save for your gasp.

Oh, how like you, how docile and doe-like, never one to raise your voice, or fight back, especially not with him.

"Let them find out, sister," he claws your clothing, "then they will not steal you from me."

You are so pliant as he squeezes you, so soft as he roughs you back to his bed. You let him handle you like he did your dolls growing up. He treated them with less than a quarter of the gentleness you would; they'd end up tattered and broken because of him by the end of your playing session, much to your heartbreak.

Though you cried about it, you never once held it against him, because each time, Daemon would wipe your tears and apologize. He liked breaking your dolls. He liked being your comfort.

He knew without a sliver of doubt you'd let him do the same to your body. You'd let him break you, then kiss the tears off your cheeks. You'd let him, for he was your star, and you were his doll.

Daemon presses you beneath him. He lays you down where he sleeps. He kisses you, the way he has sometimes imagined he would while touching himself, or while in the arms of another. His long, silver hair cascades down his shoulder, joining your long, silver hair that's spilled on his pillows.

For so long, he's denied himself of you, because you were too pure, too darling to be tainted.

You whimper as he pushes your skirts up, bunching them by your ribs.

But now, it's all different.

His mouth suckles its way to your neck.

"Daemon."

Now, it's not about denial. It's about what's right. It's about what you deserve.

"Daemon-" you whimper when he reaches into the waistband of your smallclothes, "-wait."

He breathes hotly against your jaw. He grabs your knees and parts them for himself.

You push his shoulders back, catching his attention. He is displeased, and not even your glassy eyes could quell it. He warns you with an annoyed sound.

You gulp but mutter anyway, "this is wrong."

"Wrong?!" snaps he.

You tense at his anger, yet even then, you caress his cheek gently, "I am to be married to Lord Dalton Greyjoy."

"And you would have me believe you want him?" Daemon quips, "that you do not want me?"

You push yourself up on your elbows. Tears begin to spill from the corner of your eyes, "Daem-"

"Why do you think I am doing this?" He pushes himself against your core.

You whimper at the contact. He is hard.

He grabs your wrists and pins them to your sides, "I do this for your sake, little girl. To save you from your prison."

You gulp and blink rapidly, your silver lashes lace with tears.

The slightest semblance of remorse flashes on your brother's face.

With your head lifted, you watch as Daemon brings his hands to your ankles instead. He rids you of your shoes and chucks them over his shoulder.

Slowly, he strips you naked until you are left in nothing but the jewelry and the stockings he bought you once before.

You cover your breasts, and he lets you while he kneads at your slightly parted thighs.

His eyes are glued on your womanhood, on the curls that don't see the light of day and the flesh that's never been touched by a man.

Daemon clenches his jaw as his fingers inspect the heat there. The two digits find molten wetness flooding your entrance. You make a breathless sound and squeeze your thighs, trying, with pointless effort, to stop him. His eyes flick to your face, the look of embarrassment, of shock, of pleasure visible to him. He debates forcing your legs.

He licks his you-coated fingers and tuts instead, "open."

You look at him, your Daemon, with a faint line between his brows. You close your mouth and lick your lips. Your hands find their way back to your breasts.

The sight is maddening, especially with how the jewel of your necklace looks between the squished mount of flesh.

"Open," he commands with less patience.

Daemon watches his darling princess part her legs for him. His trousers strain more than it did already.

He watches you closely and motions with a finger to your chest, "those too."

You do not immediately comply. In fact, you look at Daemon with pleading eyes. He raises his brows at your bratty demeanor, and shakes his head, "are you disobeying me?"

You see the threat in his eyes.

"Kessa nyke mazverdagon ao rūnagon aōha dīnagon?" Shall I make you remember your place?

You shake your head and pipe softly, "daor." No.

Finally, you reveal your breasts to him.

He smirks, "good girl."

Your brother kneads your delicate flesh and grinds his clothed groin against your weeping cunt. The sound you emit makes the feel of the clothes on his skin unbearable.

He grabs your hands and places them on his waistband. He looks down at you as he rids himself of his top. By the time his burning chest is free, you've gotten half the wits to undo his breeches.

His eyes don't leave you as he takes off his shoes.

You timidly pull his pants down, sitting up slightly as you do. You make a soft sound when his manhood flings free. Daemon shoves you back and does the rest himself.

"Daemon. I don't think-"

Your voice is crushed by the feel of his cock sliding into you. A rush of heat ripples through your body. He leans down and kisses your shoulder as you whine.

"Enough," he pants. He uses all his restraint not to fuck you dumb then and there. He grabs your thighs, pressing them into your chest. He can feel your tension. If he fucks you now, he could leave you unable to walk straight. But as sweet as that sounds, he doesn't actually want to hurt you, not that way.

Daemon sinks down to your jugular and kisses you there before he brings his hungry mouth to your breast. He sucks and nips, imagining it being heavy with milk for his babe, the babe he'd put into your belly.

The thought makes his moan and rut his hips.

You make a strained sound and your hands push at his arms. You call his name again, soft and shaky.

Daemon tries to ignore you, his palm coming to your lonely breast on the other side, but the persistent call of his name makes him sigh.

He lightly grazes your nipple before he releases your flesh. He trails kisses up your skin until he lands on your face, your face, which was now wet with salt.

"You need to relax. Mmm?" he coos, kissing your lips, "skoro syt gaomagon ao limagon? Hm?" Why do you cry?

You adjust beneath him, repositioning your thighs, digging your fingers into his nape. You whimper, "lēkia."

Daemon's belly burns. Look at you, crying for your older brother.

"Kessa, ñuha hāedar?" Yes, my little sister?

"Iksan zūgagon," you mutter, tears streaming down your temples. Your nails scratch up his scalp. I am afraid.

Daemon, selfish as he is, does not like the fact that leaves your lips. His brows furrow. He rubs your thighs in an attempt to comfort you. He kisses the corner of your lips, "hen lēkia?" Of your older brother?

You shake your head quickly, rubbing your thumb on his jaw.

His brows furrow tighter. His hold on your thigh tightens, "hen bona Āegenka Āzma?" Of that Iron Born?

You stay still. You take a moment before mumbling, "Viserys said I should marry him for my own good-"

"Fuck that cunt Viserys," he spits angrily.

Your lips quiver.

The anger in Daemon's chest dissipates as you rub the deep line between his brows. He props himself up, sinking a hand by the side of your head. He looks down at you.

"You cannot protect me forever," you whisper, finally relaxing beneath him.

Daemon watches as you lick your lips.

You gulp, "I am a Targaryen princess. I have duties to the realm, to my family."

"Your duty is with me," he grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest.

Your violet eyes sparkle as you examine his features. You tuck the long tresses that block his face behind his ear. Your belly ignites at the fierce beauty of your beloved brother.

"I burn for you," Daemon says, "I know that you burn for me."

"But Daemon-"

The gentle thrust of his hips stifle your words.

You whimper and instinctively mold your body against him. Your legs tighten around his torso as his thrusts grow more and more confident.

"Enough," Daemon repeats this time softer, head sinking back into the crook of your neck, "you have always belonged to me, and you know it."

Daemon kisses you, delighting in the gasp you give when he plays with your pearl. He muffles the sound of your mewls with his mouth.

"They insult us all by daring to mix dragon blood with fucking sea squid," he pants, "you were meant to carry my seed, be my bride."

You moan, feeling a foreign force in your belly.

"I will not let that sewer monster be the one to make you a woman," Daemon licks a stripe up your neck.

You tangle your fingers into the roots of his hair, "Daemon."

His nails scratch up your sides, "twas I that watched you blossom into womanhood, tis I that should be the one to take it."

Neither of you speak after he says this. You both simply whimper, wordlessly agreeing your bodies were made for each other.

The prince had not a single care in the world. He urges you to scream out to him with the flick of his pelvis. He didn't care if anyone could hear, neither did he care that anyone would see the viscious marks he was leaving all over your throat.

You were better than he had ever imagined, and he was determined to make you his. He was intent on emptying his stones, over and over again, until you could take no more, until you were too exhausted to leave, until your body had no other choice but to carry him a child.

And when he finally does spill into you, coming with a grunt and a soft, "you're mine," you, the virgin princess finally understand the fuss over sex, and reply to him with an, "I love you."

Daemon fucks you until his bed is soiled with a mix of your come. He fucks you until every minute movement from him makes you shiver and whine. He fucks you until your skin is marked with tender bites. He fucks you until you beg for respite, and then he keeps himself inside you after.

You were a worn little thing, and yet you managed the energy to still cling to him as you dozed off.

He kisses your temple and sleeps soundly, knowing he's done it, he's made his claim; you were his. That was irrefutable. Only a madman would deny him of you now. He basks in the pleasure of your body, and in the knowledge his baby sister so wholeheartedly trusted in him to let him do this.

One can only imagine, then, the mortified horror you felt when you were given to Lord Greyjoy anyway.

This was not part of the plan. You were meant to meet Daemon. He told you you were going to speak to the king together, and yet here your eldest brother was, ushering you towards your captor-husband to be.

"My princess," Dalton says, reaching a hand to you.

You stare at his glimmering eyes, finding nothing but malice and lust behind them. You turn to your brother for help. You do not want to touch this man.

Viserys offers you none and looks away. It hurts when he does so, especially since he does so with such apparent scorn. He smiles at Dalton, "greet your lord. You will soon be wed to him, sister."

You muster enough artificial interest to smile. Goosebumps form on your skin when he kisses the back of your hand.

He notices and chuckles, rubbing where he kissed, "such demureness. Do not be frightened of me, my dragon. I would not hurt such a pretty thing."

You clasp your hands together after he releases you.

"Not unless you ask," he adds, bursting into a laugh.

Neither you or Viserys return the amusement. In fact, the latter's face contorts at the distasteful joke. His nostrils flare, "you dare jest such uncouth things in front of your king?"

Dalton Greyjoy is unbothered, but stifles his laughter. He clears his throat and bows, "my apologies, my king. Tis the Ironborn in me. I cannot help my nature, much like you cannot help yours."

You feel light headed the entirety of this interaction. The room feels like it was closing in on you, and you kept glancing at the door, praying that your other brother free you from this torment.

He does not. He does not come. In fact, you do not see Daemon anywhere the entire day.

Dalton keeps you by his side, taking your arm in his as he makes you stroll him around the Red Keep. You do so, of course, no matter how strong the urge to run away and hide from him was. The entire time, Dalton recounts his stories of battle, his stories at sea, his stories of life. He's sincere enough, but you are not interested in the slightest.

"I think you'd enjoy the feel of sea salt against your skin, just as much you enjoy the whip of the clouds," he grins with genuine enthusiasm.

Any response you have is put out by his next words.

"I can introduce you to my salt-wives."

"Salt-wives?"

"Aye," he says proudly, "I'd say I have about twenty, but I cannot assure you its accuracy."

You are horrified. Finally, you have the gall to pull away, "what?"

Dalton chuckles, somehow amused, but his brows furrow, as if irritated, "we Ironborn keep salt wives in our ships, to give us comfort and warmth when the sea gets too rough. Is this princess so sheltered to not know this?"

You curdle when he reaches for your neck.

"You needn't be jealous. You'd be my one and only rock wife."

You scowl at his condescending tone, "I thought that was just a wives' tale."

He laughs. It is rich, amused, and foreboding. He shakes his head, "it's about as much of a wives' tale as your dragons are, princess."

Later that night, you weep at the king's feet, begging him not to marry you off to such a man.

Viserys does not hear it, and it is only then that Daemon finally appears.

When he does, it's as if the gods themselves breathed life into you. Quickly, you run into him and sob into his chest.

Daemon holds you tightly and glares at the king, "what have you done to her?"

Viserys scoffs. The dark room, illuminated only by the fireplace and a few lit candles, feels to him like it's darkened because of Daemon. He shifts where he sits, "I? I found her a husband."

Daemon's eye twitches, "you gave her to me! You said it just this morning."

You look up at Daemon, hopeful at the sound of his words.

"I said I would think about it once you report your patrol at the City Watch to me."

Daemon releases you to impose on his brother, "I kept your city clean from crimes and safe for the people."

"And where did you go after?" Viserys narrows his eyes.

You rub your arms as you watch your brothers argue.

Daemon does not respond.

Viserys turns to you, "tell your beloved sister where you went after your patrols."

Daemon does not move.

Your chest tightens at the silence, "... Daemon."

The said man opens his mouth, "I went to get a dri-"

"A whorehouse!" Viserys blurts, rising from his seat to glare at Daemon. He turns back to you, pushing past him, "I would know. I paid every whore in Fleabottom to seduce him."

Your heart leaps into your mouth, "w-what?"

Daemon is stunned.

"See now," Viserys is close enough to clutch your cheeks, "your beloved brother is a man like all the rest. No more is the dragon righteous than the kraken."

Your eyes begin to fog with tears. Your hands begin to tremble. Why was he doing this to you?

"Greyjoy is no less a dog than the rest of us. He at least, is honoring a tradition. Daemon honors only his cock."

You turn to Daemon, hoping to find this was not the case, but his expression says it all. You let a pained whimper, "you teach me so cruelly, brother."

"I teach you," he swipes your tears with his thumbs, "for your own good."

"You fucking--"

You scream in terror as Daemon lunges at Viserys. You reel back and watch as the two crash down to the floor, the younger of them finding the upper hand. They roughly struggle against each other.

You can no longer remain simply screaming when Daemon grabs Viserys by the collar and slams him repeatedly against the ground, especially not when Viserys claws at Daemon's face to get him off. You dash forward just as the guards order the prince to stop.

It only takes another scream from you, begging them to stop, for the kingsguards to burst into the room.

You grab Daemon's arm, and out of instinct, he swats you back, hand hitting your nose with rage powered force.

You shoot back into a kingsguard, feeling your face throb in pain. You swipe your philtrum and find red on your fingers.

It takes Viserys screaming your name for Daemon to stop and realize what he's done.

The impact of hitting the armored man makes your back twinge, but it does not hurt nearly as much as the back handed hit you received from your brother.

The kingsguard catches you and stands you upright. He quickly asks if you are alright, but doesn't wait for an answer because he's then shoving Daemon back, putting himself between him and you when he tries to come near.

Daemon glares in offence.

"Throw him in the fucking dungeon," Viserys spits out as he is helped up by another guard.

Daemon fights back, but is no match against three guards.

He screams your name as he is dragged off.

You clutch your face as he tells you he didn't mean to hit you. You face throbs as he tells you he loves you, and only you.

For once, you doubt his words.

Viserys comes to your side, placing a gentle hand in your shoulder. You watch as he commands a servant to get something for your injury.

He clutches your cheek that was struck and sighs, "if you wed the Red Kraken, you will strengthen our hold on the Iron Lands. Dalton Greyjoy is a formidable warrior. I couldn't think of a more capable man to safekeep the Jewel of the Realm."

As he stroked your hair, you realized that Viserys was right. It didn't matter who it was, all men were the same. When your septa warned you of men's depravity, you believed your brothers to be the exception. Now, you knew exactly why you were called-

"Little lamb," Viserys coos, "I only want what is best for all of us."

You were too naive to believe in good things.

And so you marry Dalton Greyjoy the next day.

The haste with which the wedding is prepared is to prevent you from changing your mind, you figured. That, and to keep Daemon in prison for the least amount of time.

Part of you wanted to visit him, but part of you wanted him to suffer. In the end, you realized you were too weak to behold your brother as a prisoner.

Daemon screams and bangs at his bars, demanding he be released. But the prison guards have handled worse and throw cold water at him to shut him up.

He knew by the time he was free, he would be too late to stop your marriage, but still, he meticulously planned what he would do the moment he was.

That night, after the wedding festivities were over, Dalton takes you to your room and makes you his wife.

"It's been a while since I've had a virgin," Dalton says, caressing your cheek, "don't worry, I will be gentle."

You want to scream, you want tofight him back, but you remember you're not a virgin, and fear paralyzes you. You mumble, "m-my dragon riding."

Dalton pushes back bour silver hair and kisses your shoulder.

You can't help but think of Daemon in this moment, but it makes you feel sick, and so you will him out of your head. You mumble again, "my dragon riding may taken my womanhood."

Dalton pulls away and stares at you for a moment.

"I- I was told as a child, it happened to many Targaryen princesses."

He pulls his hands, which were on your hips, away then shoves you down on your bed. He smirks as he undoes his clothing, "then I can be rough with you, aye?"

You quiver at his gaze.

He laughs, shaking his head, "didn't I say I would not hurt you? Unless under your request?"

You inch back as he crawls over. He grabs your ankle, then the other, causing you to panic. You instinctively kick him off, but instead of being deterred, he is excited.

"Sh, sh, sh," he hushes, "it will not be unpleasant, my dragon."

Your skin pricks with gooseflesh when he removes your shoes, your socks, then sneaks his hand up your skirt.

You whimper and turn away, finding you could no longer kick back when he seizes your knees.

"Please-"

"Shhh," he hushes, giving you the first solemn look he has this entire day he's been smug, "I've had much practice from my salt wives. You, my rock wife, will taste the fruits of my practice... as I taste you."

You gasp when he suddenly rips your underwear off.

"I swear to you, your body will enjoy it, even if your mind wants you to believe otherwise."

You muffle your mouth with your palm when you feel Dalton sink in between your thighs.

He was right.

The entire time he touches you, it feels like your skin was being scorched. Your heart was not in it, but your body twisted in pleasure. You hated that you longed for Daemon, even after the fact you were not enough for him; he was still the only one you, and this moment proved it.

You were brought to tears at how pathetic it was. Tears streamed as you reached your peak, one of the many you receive from your... husband.

He handled you with carnal instinct, just as Daemon did, but unlike him, Dalton did not kiss your tears. In fact, he did not kiss your face once. It is you that initiates such a thing, amidst the throes of your lewd pleasure. He grabs your jaw when your lips connect, and quickly releases his load into you after.

Your peak is cut short because he pulls out just when you reach it.

You watch as he rolls over and goes to sleep without another word.

The next morning, the servants call you Princess Greyjoy and it haunts you.

"No need to look so sullen, wife," you hear over your shoulder.

If the cold from the early morning wasn't enough to make you shiver, the kiss on your shoulder was.

The ship rocks as you tear your gaze away from King's Landing, King's Landing that looked so tiny now from where you stood. A sea of tears laid between you and the home that will never be yours again. You turn to Dalton. He leans his elbows on the edge of the ship and looks up at you, "we can do many things to liven your mood."

You watch him as he rubs your hips. Your stomach curdles but you manage to offer a smile, "I... am flattered, but I do not want to distract the captain of this ship."

Dalton chuckles and straightens up, "trust me. The crew would appreciate it if you did."

You squeak when he yanks you into him.

"Right boys?!" he calls loudly, "shall I make a salt wife out of my rock wife?!"

The crew cheers and it makes your skin burn in mortification.

The next thing you know, you are thrown over his shoulder. He slaps your ass and takes you to his quarters. The crew laughs as he does.

You helplessly grunt when he drops you on his bed-- your shared bed. You silently peer up at him as he stares at you. You are relieved he paces across the room, towards his table. He grabs something and chucks it at you. You flinch but manage to catch it.

He sits on the table as you inspect the pouch. You open it, finding herbs inside.

"I heard you've been drinking that," he says.

You look up at him.

"Haven't you?" he asks.

You smell it and wretch. It smells exactly like-

"Moon tea," Dalton says, making your blood run cold, "for the bastard in your belly.*

You are frozen in your spot. Your stomach drops when he stands and walks over. He grabs your chin. It is not harsh, but it strikes fear in you anyway.

"I asked you a question, wife."

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

"HAVE YOU BEEN TAKING THE FUCKING TEA OR NOT?" he screams, grabbing your neck.

Your hands fly to his grip. Your fingers attempt to pry him away.

You wheeze when he squeezes you. Your flail your legs and try to kick him off. You can't. Just as your vision begins to go dark, he releases you. You fall onto the bed and frantically try to catch your breath. You cough and hear him smash things around the room.

And so you behold the man who said he would not hurt you unless you asked him, brutalize the furniture.

You think your chances are better in the sea rather than on this boat. You slowly maneuver towards the door while he is distracted. Just as you are about to sprint, he grabs you and throws you back down on his bed.

"You stupid slut!" he screams, "you think you can run?!

You try to scream for help, but the pain in your throat when you try to stops you. Not a second later, you scream anyway.

He slaps you across the face, promptly silencing you. The sting is ten times worse than what Daemon did.

"I was promised a Targaryen princess, not some whore of a dragon!" he screams, kicking the chair by his desk across the room.

You feel lightheaded. You see double.

He laughs angrily, shaking his head, "dragon riding, my arse."

Indistinguishable sounds leave your lips.

Your heart drops as he storms over.

"Who's the father of your bastard child?!"

"ANSWER ME!" he demands, grabbing your shoulders, dragging you to your feet. Your head recoils at the sheer force of it. You take a moment to steady your head.

Your eyes search Dalton's enraged features, hoping to chance upon a sliver of compassion... in vain. The sound that leaves your mouth is response to the bruising squeeze of your arms. You cannot help but whimper as tears stream down your cheeks, "you're hurting me."

He is further angered by this. He gives you a powerful shake. Your head lashes back again and you scream.

"Give me a name!" erupts the lord.

You no longer have it in you to hold your tongue, and so you confess, "Daemon!"

Dalton releases you. He is repulsed, "your brother?" He scoffs, "you revolting, little worm," he slaps you again, making you lose your balance.

Before you crash into anything, he grabs you and keeps you upright. You can feel your cheek and lips swell at his assault. You taste iron on your lips.

"And here they had me believing you were some meek lamb," he laughs dryly, brushing your hair back, "you're nothing but a whore, grown from perversion and abomination."

Your expression hardens. You glare at him and rebut, though your head was pounding, "and your sea rituals are more righteous than my family traditions?"

Without another word, Dalton shoves you back, propelling you into his desk. Your skull crashes against the edge with a horrendous thud.

You fall limp onto the floor. Dalton cares little if you were dead or unconscious. He walks out of the room right before he can witness the red staining your white hair.

Dalton is no fool. He knows better than to disfigure a Targaryen princess.

He walks towards the wheel of the ship and continues the course to what his crew believed to be a shortcut to home. In truth, he was bringing the ship to its doom, to face you with with a trail of the sea.

He would crash the ship into a chokehold of rocks, and if you survived, if he found your floating body, he would keep you, as you proved your resilience. But if you were swallowed into the depths, if he was unable to find you in the debris, he would praise the Drowned god for your riddance.

The same want with his crew.

Of course, there was a bit of this that felt like suicide, but he knew he was too vengeful to die, so he knew he had nothing to fear.

When the Greyjoy ship finally reached the rocky pass, Dalton was promptly warned of the danger by his lookout, who he obviously ignored.

He ordered to hoist the sails, and, blindly, the crew followed, even through apparent worry.

It didn't take very long after for the ship to crash into the cliffs.

The crew clamors. They scream and panic, turning to their captain that could not care less. He pretends to steer them to safety, but he actually slammed them further into their demise.

The deck begins to crumble. The mast snaps. The sails break off. Dalton calls to abandon ship.

The crew don't need any more convincing.

One by one, each man for their own, they try to escape with their life.

By the time Dalton jumps off the ship, the thing is half submerged in the water, crumbs of it on the side of a rock.

It was pure chaos.

Dalton swims far enough from the destruction, and knows his god smiled upon him and his decision when he sees a large wooden slab he can climb on.

He does just that and looks out to his crew, helping the ones that manage to swim over, commanding the others calling for help to simply swim or drown.

He looks around, trying to make out a body of a woman, a blob of a dress, a head of silver hair in the aftermath.

"My wife," he screams, "has anyone seen my wife?!"

He wasn't concerned, of course. He just wanted to know his fate as a husband, but this did make for a good alibi.

His surviving men look and swim around for you. They find no trance.

Dalton presses his lips, "little dragon couldn't fly away."

They take refuge on a cliff. Lord Greyjoy tells his crew not to bitch and panic because they will surely be found by a passing ship soon enough.

He had planned this shipwreck after all.

By the time Dalton and his remaining men were saved, a flash of red circled in the setting sky, hovering over the massive rock that held the shipwreck that bore the sigil of Greyjoy.

Caraxes screeches as his rider commands him to get closer to the scene. The dragon hesitates but eventually lands on the cliff. Waves crash upon the area, causing the beast to bleat when he is wet.

Daemon is frantic as he gazes upon the destruction. He is distressed unlike he's ever been. His voice is distinctly desperate and hysterical. He screams out your name, even though it was nothing against the roar of the splashing waves.

He heaves heavily as he erratically decides to dismount and jump into the water.

As he wades, he tries to convince himself that what he was doing was for naught-- perhaps you were not here to begin with. But the gut feeling was overwhelming; it was sickening.

He tries to believe that bottom feeder, Greyjoy, saved you before his ship crumbled. He tries to convince himself that cunt's lust for you was enough reason to keep you alive.

But he remembers the servant he threatened with a knife whilst demanding to know which route your ship would take. He thinks of how he almost shit himself while confesssing to Daemon that Greyjoy planned to pass through a rocky region as a shortcut. But Daemon's flown over that area, and knew it was out of the way to the Iron Islands.

After squeezing out what's left from that servant, Daemon's face falls when he mentions that rusted octopus had an argument with a servant girl that came to serve the princess a cup of tea.

Daemon was no fool. Dalton was a butish barbarian. If he found out you were drinking Moon Tea, he would do his worst on you for blemishing his pride.

And so he swam. Daemon swam, dove down, and searched for your body until he had to stop because Caraxes was getting restless. He commanded him to calm down, but he could only do it so many times until he, himself, was the same.

He eventually gets back on Caraxes. Daemon can't bring himself to leave just yet however, and finds himself praying to whatever god out there to return his love back to him.

Caraxes circles the area one last time before heading off. For some reason, Daemon feels the urge to check underneath a large slab of shattered wood. He commands his mount to lift it, and the dragon screeches as he does what he can with his hind legs.

The sound that leaves the prince's mouth is what could only be described as pure anguish.

A head of silver hair floats up and wafts in the water along with a tattered dress. Your body garnered a horrid tone of grey and you were missing your shoes.

Daemon cannot contain the tears that gush out of his eyes.

Caraxes carries your body in his claws all the way to the Keep.

The way in which he commands his ride to set your body down is frantic and incredibly detailed. Part of him realizes Caraxes probably recognized you, considering the way he laid on his belly and sniffed you as Daemon buckled to his knees and lamented over your frigid body.

He speaks to you in High Valyrian. His salty tears drip on your salt water drowned body. He promises he will never trick you, never argue with you, and never make you cry ever again if only you open your violet eyes.

He rocks back and forth with you in his arms, unsure which of you he was soothing by doing this.

He swears he will turn the sea red with blood and burn the whole Iron Islands to avenge you.

He is incredibly uncomfortable of the chill of your skin. He shakes his head, telling you dragons must not be kept cold. He kisses your face in an attempt to warm it up. He recounts a time where you accidentally spilled candle wax on him, burning his skin, and tells you that you still need to make up for your offence. He tells you he will forgive you if you simply hold him back.

Viserys had to account for three dragons by the time he found out what was happening, one was Daemon, whose grief morphed into murderous spite. He threatened to slay anyone who wanted to take you from him. Not again. Another was Caraxes, who refused to leave his heartbroken rider's side. The last was your dragon, who felt the loss of your connection, and went into a rabid state mourning.

It takes 5 people to secure your dragon in the pit, 5 people to subdue Caraxes, and 3 people to separate Daemon from your corpse.

The king takes a moment to clutch your hand. His face flinches. Where once your hand was so warm, no warmth now remained. He steps back and watches the maesters cover your body and take you away.

[coolcattime]

Home and Free: Chapter Eighteen - Maison des Lunes

Characters: Captain Capsize, Sonja Firefox, Skipper Redbeard, Jordan Captainsparklez, Tucker Jericho, Tom Syndicate, Martha the Mystic, Mot Screziato, Alyssa Countybat, Waglington, Farmer Steve, Prince Andor, Jeriah, Lady Ianite, Lord Dianite, Guardian Furia

Relationship: Captain Capsize/Sonja Firefox, Captain Capsize/Jordan Captainsparklez (onesided)

AO3 Link

Full Story Tag

The Champion of Lady Ianite walked through the darkened stone corridor biting down his unease. With all the preparation he had done for this meeting, he really had nothing to fear from it. Yet he had to admit that the building itself just bought forth a certain apprehension.

It was technically meant to be a place of wellness, somewhere where people with mental maladies could go for help to recover. However, with Monsieur Furia in charge of the place, everyone knew the building functioned far more like a prison. Those taken into the asylum would seldom return. Those that did had never recovered in any way and more often than not had grown worse in their stay.

Perhaps that was why Jordan hated walking through the building towards the office of the unsavoury man in charge. The weeping of those held here was not just audible but echoing, reminding him with every step what kind of fate he was plotting on inflicting on a man for his own gain.

However, despite the great many thoughts that came into his head of the many injustices caused by this place and the general awfulness of his plan, he gave rebuttals just as quickly. After all, the story Red was telling of Capsize’s disappearance was insane, so he may well have wound up in this place on his own merit. And he would only end up here in the first place if Capsize refused his proposal once again. Even she would not be so stubborn.

Those thoughts quite quickly shut up those arguing that no one deserved so much as a risk of ending up in this place. He additionally reassured himself, however falsely, that he had not formed this plan out of spite. That this plan hadn’t been primarily formed due to Redbeard publicly embarrassing him with his lies about Capsize’s feelings.

Though still, there was a sense of satisfaction that he couldn’t shake away no matter how he tried. So, the man thought Capsize would never marry him? Well then, he’d be stuck here in a tiny cell forever.

But, of course, Jordan knew it would never come to that. For whatever reason, Capsize loved her brother. She would never allow him to remain here. More importantly, she loved Jordan. She knew they were meant to be together, and she wanted to marry him. She just needed some prompting to finally admit that.

First of all, though, he had to actually make the deal with Monsieur Furia. Even if the champion was quite sure he had nothing to worry about, he still couldn’t fully shift his nerves. One wrong move and the man could utterly ruin him. But he’d thought long and hard about what he was going to say to persuade the man. If that wasn’t enough, the bribe he’d put together should be more than enough to get him on board regardless.

With that confidence in mind, he entered the office of a man that most in town hoped to never have a meeting with.

“Good afternoon, Monsieur. I’m so glad you could find the time to meet with me,” Jordan greeted politely as he entered the office to find the man in question sitting at a desk before him. Judging by the condition of the place, he sincerely doubted that he had in any way been busy. However, there was no reason to be impolite.

“Oh, I could never turn down such an intriguing invitation,” Furia said as he looked up from the papers he was working on to greet the champion with a smile that utterly repulsed him.

There was nothing about the man before Jordan that was in any way reputable. He was utterly driven by his own self-interest which was mostly the ability to lord power over those who could not fight back. Needless to say, he was not the sort of person that anyone wished to be associated with.

Jordan was no different. But Capsize had left him with absolutely no choice. “Now, what exactly do you need my services for, champion?”

“I’ve been having some troubles in my personal life that I believe you can assist in resolving,” Jordan began as he sat down opposite the man. It was impossible to miss the quirk of Furia’s eyebrow, even in this dim room where he had made his nest. It did amuse Jordan somewhat to have such a feared individual in any way confused or intrigued, but he had come here to do something important. He had to focus on the task at hand. “It’s Capsize you see. Obviously, we’re meant to be, but she’s been playing hard to get. Normally, fine, but this time she’s gone so far as to reject my proposal.”

Though now a couple of months had passed since the incident, the humiliation of being shoved into the mud still festered as though it had merely been a few days ago. Everything had been so perfect. They’d had a great date, he’d gotten a beautiful ring, and he’d had her garden set up in a scene right out of any woman’s dream.

Yet still she had seen fit to reject him when they were so obviously meant to be together. Then she had run off and hid rather than face him and apologise for the embarrassment she had caused and the moment she had ruined.

“An interesting problem, but I really don’t see how I can be of use to you,” Furia said, immediately dismissive or perhaps just disappointed. Either way, it brought an annoyance forth in Jordan who was not used to such a reaction when he spoke.

He knew he should’ve forced Tucker along as back up. Though he doubted the man would’ve been much help with how scared of coming to this place he had been.

Fear was the only reason Jordan could reason out for the man’s actions over the past couple of months. Since the two of them had come up with this plan, Tucker had done everything to delay their actual meeting with Furia. While at first it had seemed that his friend was just practicing an abundance of caution, it had been quite thoroughly dragged out into nothing more than a cause for frustration as time had passed on.

But Jordan could forgive his friend for his fear. It was not as if anyone wanted to make a trip to the asylum. He’d tasked him with keeping an eye on Capsize’s house and to keep the siblings there should they make their return. That way at least he was assisting despite not having the stomach to come to the actual meeting.

However, facing the condescending smile of Monsieur Furia alone, he wished that he’d just dragged Tucker here despite the man’s cowardice, so he’d have some back up. But all that thought did at this point was leave him annoyed.

“As much as your fanatics in town might think otherwise, it isn’t a sign of madness for someone to reject you,” Furia laughed at his own comment as Jordan wrinkled his nose. He didn’t appreciate being treated like an idiot, but he couldn’t afford to make a retort.

He could resist saying the numerous comments that were flooding into his head. He only needed to put up with the man for as long as it took for his plan to come to fruition. Once he and Capsize were married he could say all the insults he was currently just imagining.

“Obviously, she’s unendingly, annoyingly stubborn, but she isn’t mad. That’s precisely why you could be so helpful in persuading her,” Jordan said before taking a pause. He knew once he said his next words, there would no longer be any going back with his plan. If he were to try and back out afterwards, Furia would surely blackmail him and make his life utterly miserable. However, he’d already thought enough about his plan. He had no hesitation left. “It’s Redbeard that’s lost his mind.”

“Oh?” Monsieur Furia lent forward, suddenly more than intrigued. He had almost entirely written off this meeting as a pointless fumbling as the champion dealt with being rejected for the first time in his life. But it seemed the man had a dishonourable streak that he hadn’t accounted for. Still, he couldn’t do something just because the champion suggested it. There was a careful balance in his work in regards to just what the town would accept from him. “I’m quite sure that both siblings are of sound mind. They have some odd customs and beliefs, sure, but nothing that’s any of my concern.”

“I thought so too, but the same night Capsize rejected my proposal, Redbeard stumbled into the tavern raving about a monster,” Jordan said, managing to summon forth concerns that he did not truly hold. That was the role he would have to play for the town, after all. He was nothing but a man concerned for his love’s brother who appeared to have lost his mind.

To Furia, it was not the most convincing of performances, but it was entertaining nonetheless. Wherever the champion was going with this, he knew it was going to be such fun. Still, though, he had the champion very much at his mercy. How could he let the opportunity to toy with the man slip through his fingers?

“Drunken ramblings, surely. The man’s known to drink heavily and tell tall tales. If I detained people for that, the tavern might have to close down,” He laughed. Even though he was not in any way a social man, Furia still knew of Redbeard’s reputation in town. There was little chance he could get away with imprisoning the man if he was just doing what any drunk might do.

Jordan saw this comment as a hidden question, that Furia needed to ensure that his own back was covered. With all the time he had had to think this plan over, he had prepared an explanation already.

“I thought so too, but even a week later, he was still going on about a monster in the woods and other such ridiculous nonsense,” Jordan said, not quite managing to hide his contempt this time as he remembered how the man had lied about Capsize hating him. If that didn’t prove his insanity, Jordan didn’t know what would.

But, of course, whether Red was truly insane or not mattered little. So long as he had the appearance of a madman, Furia would have more than enough reason to detain him. That was all that was needed. “The whole town has been whispering about his fall into madness. But Capsize, she’d never allow her brother to be locked up, she’d take any offer presented to her to help him.”

At those words, Furia paused. The implication was clear and obvious, but he genuinely could not believe that one of the champions of the gods was proposing such a plot to him. It was enough of a shock for him to wonder if this was a trap somehow, though not enough for him to outwardly panic.

“Are you suggesting that I detain Redbeard so you can blackmail Capsize into marrying you?” Furia asked, careful to keep his face neutral. It was impossible to tell whether or not he approved of the plan.

Perhaps that should have given Jordan pause. The mere chance that even a man known to be so despicable might disapprove of the plan he had concocted. But the champion’s mind had been long since made up. If Capsize and Redbeard were dead set on embarrassing him and avoiding the wants of their Lady, he had no qualms about using a plan that would force them to desperation. He knew, after all, that the ends would justify the means.

So, his only response to Furia’s question was to reach for the silver-stuffed pouch on his belt and throw it onto the man’s desk.

Furia, hearing the heavy thump as it landed, had a good idea of what the pouch contained. Still, his eyes gleamed as he pulled it open and confirmed the riches inside.

“For your assistance and discretion,” Jordan said with a casual smile. It wasn’t as if Red would actually spend any time in one of these cells, Capsize would see sense at the sight of the cart coming to take him away. And if she didn’t, it wouldn’t take more than a few days for her stubborn resistance to break. So, it wasn’t as if he was going to do the man any real harm.

“It’s just awful,” Furia said.

For the first time, Jordan panicked. In all his planning, he never once considered the idea of Furia refusing to assist him. Without the man actually threatening to detain Redbeard, his entire plan fell apart. However, his panic was incredibly short lived.

Monsieur Furia’s face broke into a devilish smile. “Truly awful for such a young man to lose his mind like this.”

With that, the asylum director began laughing, unable to hold back his delight at the plan. He could only hope that Capsize would try to stand her ground with her rejection and he’d be able to stretch the fun out for days rather than hours.

Jordan laughed too, relief washing through him. With the deal done and the plan sealed, there was no chance that Capsize would reject his proposal if their marriage would protect Redbeard.

All that was left to do was await the siblings’ return and book the church.

🌹 🌹 🌹

Jeriah could not help but wonder why it seemed as though the entire world had changed in the couple of months that he had been away from the town.

The unusualness had, admittedly, begun far before he had returned. It had started when he had left, expecting a normal enough meeting with those who had taken over running the blood knights in his retirement. Though he was looking forward to a refreshing change from his repetitive everyday life, he knew that it was going to be a few weeks entirely focused on business. Or at least it should’ve been.

Instead, a few days after arriving, he had been surprised by the arrival of Spark Conway. An incredibly welcomed surprise given how long it had been since he had seen his friend in person. Yet everything had spiralled so quickly after their happy reunion.

At first, the two men had just been happy to see each other. It had been years and, even with the mundanity that Jeriah’s life had fallen into, they had had plenty to catch up on. However, the more they had discussed, the clearer it had become that something was incredibly wrong.

It had started with one singular unexplainable gap. A gap in their memories that surely must’ve existed for quite some time, but one that their minds had completely skipped over until they stated it out loud.

Jeriah had always had the distinct knowledge that he had been sent to the sleepy town where he now resided by Spark. His house was in fact owed by the other man, so clearly him being there was of quite some importance. But Jeriah could not recall the reason he had been sent there, nor could he at all fathom one from what his everyday life was in the town.

However, when he had asked Spark jokingly the reason, the man had frozen in place. He had the exact same gap in his memory as Jeriah did.

It was not entirely impossible that they had both forgotten. Quite illogical given how much importance they were both sure the task had, but not quite impossible. However, the gap alongside the itching sureness both of them had that they should’ve been able to recall the reason had gotten them discussing everything odd or unexplainable they could think of.

Some were innocuous, the books that Jeriah didn’t recall buying, similar unexplained belongings in Spark’s home. However, some were far more worrying. For example, Spark’s way of saying ‘his children’ or ‘his grandchildren’ despite how, to their recollection, he only had one of each. That realisation had caused such a horror in Spark that the two had needed to stop for the day as they tried to comprehend just what kind of nightmare could have him forget members of his own family.

For a reason that neither of them knew, their memories had been taken from them. While they had tried to figure out a cause, all they found was a mystery as unnerving as the memories they found missing. The only conclusion that they could come to was that there was something important being hidden from them in the town, likely whatever Jeriah’s mission had related to.

Whatever it was, they needed to investigate it.

However, their meeting had already gone on far longer than either of them had intended to be away for. What Jeriah had expected to be a couple week trip had extended into nearly two months away, the winter solstice’s arrival waking the two into reality from their all-consuming investigation.

Though neither was quite sure how such an amount of time had passed without them even thinking, they realised they could not rightly continue. Both had people that would already be concerned about them, that would only grow more worried each day they didn’t return. Spark certainly had a whole town who would be wondering of his whereabouts, and Jeriah had no doubt that Capsize and Redbeard would be worried by the length of his absence.

Despite wanting nothing more than to continue until they got to the bottom of the mystery before them, lest they forget its existence again, they knew they had to return to their homes. Though Spark made it very clear that he would be riding out to meet Jeriah in the town the moment he cleared up any messes left in his absences in Dagrun and found reasonable enough people to carry on his usual duties.

To try and ensure that whatever had taken their memories the first time would not strike again, Spark sent a letter ahead of himself with a reminder to meet his friend in the town in a few weeks. Jeriah assured he would send another to his friend once he was safely back home, seeing how important investigating further was to him.

With that, though, the two friends had parted ways. Spark back to Dagrun and Jeriah towards the dull town that apparently held something of far more interest than anyone could’ve predicted.

He had expected to return to a greeting by a concerned and likely annoyed Capsize, chastising him for not at least writing if he were to be gone for longer than intended. He’d already planned out an apology that involved recruiting her into investigating with him for the weeks until Spark could arrive. Hopefully the idea of some excitement would coax her into forgiving his extended absence.

Not to mention, it was curious to him that she had also been sent to this town for a reason that was a mystery to her. It was possible that both his and her mission were the same. Even if they weren’t, there was little chance Capsize would reject a chance to alleviate her boredom.

However, she was not there to greet him when he arrived home. Instead, what he found was a nearly crumpled letter that took him from one nightmare to another.

Jeriah.

I have no idea when you will return, but you’re the only person in this town who I believe will help us. Though I cannot afford to wait for your return, I hope that once you read this you will save Capsize from the horrible situation I have landed her in.

I know that the story I am going to write about in this letter is going to sound ridiculous. But I swear to you that everything I am going to describe is the truth.

On the first night of my journey to the market, I found my route blocked and was forced to take an alternative one. An odd forking path that seemed to just be a longer road to the same destination. However, this path led to a castle. One I assumed abandoned and sought shelter in from the storm and a pack of wolves that I had attracted the attention of. However, my assumption was incorrect. The building is the home of a host of enchanted objects and its Mistress is a vicious Beast.

I truly cannot express the sort of monster the Beast is. It's the size of a bear but with the intelligence and speech of a human. It could lift me with one hand but could move silently as if it was nothing more than a shadow.

It imprisoned me for trespassing and the theft of a rose, locking me in cells high up the castle’s tower. I should’ve rightfully frozen to death there. I wish I had rather than what happened in reality.

The next night, Capsize found me. I still don’t understand how seeing that she knew nothing of the Beast and my imprisonment clearly shocked her, but all my pleas for her to leave fell on deaf ears. Even when the Beast found her, she refused to leave. She bargained for my life, none of her deals being taken until she offered to trade her freedom for my own.

You have to understand that I tried to convince her not to. I begged her to just leave me there rather than sacrifice herself. But she refused to listen, and I was too weak from the cold to fight back against the Beast removing me.

I was transported back to town by its magic. I tried immediately to rally the champions to rescue Capsize, but they treated my story as nothing more than drunken ramblings. Perhaps that’s a disbelief I deserve, but I truly swear to you on her life Jeriah, all of what I’ve stated is the truth.

I fear for Capsize’s life. Though I know the quickness of my own near death was due to being soaked through from the night’s storm, I cannot imagine her lasting through the winter in that cell. And every moment of sleep I have managed has been haunted by visions of the Beast tearing her apart for trying to escape.

I’ve enclosed a map marked with the route to the castle. While I am going to head out into the woods myself once this letter is delivered, I doubt my chances against the Beast alone and I know if it finds me attempting to rescue Capsize, I will certainly be killed. I just cannot allow myself to stay in this town when I know she’s at the mercy of that creature. If we are not back by the time you return, it’s likely that I’ve already failed.

I beg you, rescue Capsize in my stead. I’m unsure if even a trained soldier like yourself could fight the creature single handedly, but you have friends that I do not. If you need money to pay for your militia’s services, you can sell any of my belongings that you believe have worth and take whatever you deem necessary from our savings.

I wish I could thank you in person, but if you’re reading this letter, I sincerely doubt I will be able to. But thank you for being a friend to Capsize and thank you for helping her if I have failed.

~Redbeard.

Jeriah read the letter thrice over, but the shaky handwriting did not change. Each time only set the horror further in his chest. Until finally, he had no more denials and sprinted from his home towards that of the siblings. Neither the icy ground underfoot nor the stares of the bustling midday market slowed him. For the first time in decades, prayers ran through his head as he desperately hoped to find the two safe from harm.

The house stood dark and empty. He knew that for a fact without having to enter, and it was almost immediately enough to send him into despair. However, he could not afford to. He would learn nothing more of the situation standing still in the garden. So, he forced himself inside.

It was clear from just stepping inside that no one had entered in quite a number of weeks. A thin layer of dust had begun to settle in a way that he was sure neither sibling would live with. It pointed to just what Redbeard’s letter had said, that the house had stood empty for nearly two months.

He kept moving throughout the rooms, scared that otherwise his thoughts would become full of awful self-loathing for the consequences of his late return. Though none of what he found in any way reassured him, it at least kept his thoughts cycling.

The main fireplace held the long since burnt out remains of wood. A discarded blanket lay in front of it which Jeriah stared at for a beat too long as the idea of an inescapable cold ran through him. Upstairs, an open and half empty chest that contained sailors’ equipment, alongside a sword and a pistol had been pulled into the middle of Redbeard’s bedroom. And there was noticeable mess throughout the home where objects had clearly been taken quickly with no belief that the place would be faced again.

All of this he attributed to Redbeard’s preparation for his own rescue attempt. Though he supposed some of it could’ve been Capsize, her room seemed in relative order and the only things of note he could believe missing from it were her pain tinctures and the book he had gifted her. Neither pointed to her knowing her brother to be in danger when she left.

When had she realised then?

Jeriah sighed as he knew he was asking questions that he could not know the answers to. Questions that didn’t matter anyway. Neither of the siblings were here and clearly hadn’t been for quite some time. Even if the details in Redbeard’s letter were incorrect, it was unquestionable that something terrible must’ve befallen the two.

Normally he would’ve written off the notion of ‘the Beast’ as the man’s panicked mind making sense of watching a natural but terrible fate happen to his sister. After all, it seemed unlikely that such a creature could exist so close to the town without a soul realising its existence. Wolves or a bear or even bandits seemed a far likelier explanation. But he had just spent two months attempting to investigate his and Spark’s missing memories that seemed inescapably linked to this town. Looking at the route Red had marked out for him to follow to the Beast’s castle left him the same itching in his head as attempting to figure out the reason Spark had wanted him here.

It was impossible for him to shake the feeling that the two were linked.

For now, though, it didn’t matter. If Spark had sent him here for some quest linked to this Beast and its castle, the more pressing fact remained that the siblings were in danger or worse. He’d be damned if he abandoned the only two tolerable people in this town.

If Red’s assessment of the creature held true, Jeriah wouldn’t be able to fight it by himself. He’d need to send for help, both from the blood knights and whatever fighters Spark could drum up. As much as he worried for Capsize and hated the idea of leaving her in danger for any longer than he already had, what good would he do if he rushed in alone and was defeated? Even if he hated it, he’d just have to take the fact that there were no signs of a goddess throwing a fit as evidence enough that Capsize was currently surviving and would continue to do so for the amount of time it took him to gather allies.

However, he wouldn’t sit around twiddling his thumbs. Alone he could investigate the woods, at least. To see if this castle truly existed and if he could find Redbeard anywhere along the route. He didn’t know what to think of the man’s chances, but he could force himself to be optimistic about finding Red somewhere out there. It made thinking of rescuing Capsize easier if he didn’t think of the horrid news he would have to give her afterwards.

He rubbed his temple. How had returning home led to a greater nightmare than the investigation with Spark? That was a question he knew had no answer.

And there were certainly no more answers, not here anyways. There was nothing more for him to find in this empty house. He should return to his own to prepare for a trip through the woods.

“Redbeard?! Capsize?!” Or not. Overhearing that call immediately set an anger within him that he knew he was not going to be able to bite down. He had struggled to put up with the champions at the best of times. Now he knew they had left a desperate man with no aid, the small amount of excuse their youth had given them in his mind had been stomped into nothingness.

As Tucker pushed through the slightly ajar door, the only thoughts in his mind were hopes to the gods he had enough time to warn the siblings of Jordan’s plan before the man was done with Monsieur Furia. Instead, he was greeted by Jeriah, the misanthrope’s face stormier than he had ever seen it.

“Oh, Jeriah, when did you get back?” He greeted, more than a little awkwardly as he tried to ignore the way the man was staring at him. He really felt as though the man was considering killing him.

“Less than an hour ago,” The older man said, the disdain already clear in his tone.

He truly had always tried to hold an even temper with the people of this town. If they gave him his privacy, he would keep to himself. But even watching the everyday actions of the champions he had occasionally felt unable to.

Now, after all the years of hearing them lorded as heroes only to have them show such cowardice when they were actually need was enough to break any reluctance to speak his mind. “I came back to quite an interesting letter from Redbeard, about a Beast imprisoning Capsize and how you and Jordan refused to help him rescue her.”

“Err…” Tucker struggled for a response. He had been so focused on attempting to stop or at least slow down Jordan’s blackmail plot that all thoughts of riding out into the woods after Red had slipped his mind. It was not so much that he had forgotten that Capsize was in apparent danger and that both the siblings had been missing for far too long for a lack of concern, but the danger from his fellow champion had been quite consuming in his mind.

Now he had been reminded, though, his mind was racing for any excuse for his inaction despite how there wasn’t one to be had. With how long it had been since he’d seen either sibling, had his attempts to stop Jordan’s plans merely been attempts to defend the dead? The panic that thought running through his head caused broke onto his face and caught in his throat as he tried to answer to the man. “I… Well, I mean, I was going to—”

“Going to?! Tell me Jericho, how long has it been since you last saw Capsize or Redbeard?” Jeriah cut him off with no charity for the man’s hesitation. It wasn’t as if the man had everyday responsibilities. He spent most of his days hunting with his fellow champion or lounging around in the tavern. If he’d regretted his lack of help at any point, he’d ample time to ride out to the woods to try and find either sibling.

“Two months…” Tucker said, squirming under the eyes of the old soldier. His own guilt grew worse now he was facing someone’s judgement. But Jeriah didn’t know the full story, that he couldn’t leave town without their situation being made all the worse. That leaving Jordan to his own devices posed just as great a threat as any other the two might be facing. “But—!"

“Don’t you dare make an excuse! You and Jordan spend your days playing heroes, that requires helping when people are in danger no matter how ridiculous you assume their story is!” Jeriah yelled, causing the champion to flinch, not that he cared about the reaction at all. Frankly, he didn’t have time to stomp the basic idea of responsibility that a god’s champion was meant to hold into Tucker’s head. He had to clean up this mess himself. “Now get out my way. I’m going to the woods to find them. You and Jordan best hope the two haven’t died from your inaction!”

For a moment, Tucker was so stunned and ashamed that he completely froze and allowed Jeriah to push past him. Then his brain took hold, forcing him to remember what would happen the moment Capsize and Redbeard arrived back now that Jordan was meeting with Monsieur Furia. He whirled back to life.

“Wait! You can’t!” He yelled out in a panic as he spun on his heel, grabbing Jeriah’s shoulder. If the man had looked angry before, he looked positively murderous when he whipped back around. Tucker stumbled back, expecting a punch that never came.

“Why not?! Because it’ll make the two of you look bad?!” He spat. He was beyond caring about making assumptions of character about the champions.

“Because the moment they get back, Jordan is planning to get Redbeard thrown into the asylum to blackmail Capsize into marrying him!”

This time it was Jeriah that froze.

“What?” He breathed, barely able to process the statement he had just heard.

Now, Jeriah was not nearly as oblivious to the goings on in the town as its residents tended to assume. He knew of Jordan’s… infatuation with Capsize. The man was less than subtle about it. He’d first met her being harassed by the man’s attempts at flirting. Then once Jordan had realised that he was friends with Capsize, the man had actually knocked on his door and attempted to pry for information.

He’d never asked for Capsize’s opinion of the champion. She’d never wanted to discuss him and since she clearly had negative experiences with the man, he didn’t blame her. However, he knew enough to know distinctly and clearly that she didn���t like Jordan, not platonically and certainly not romantically.

If Jeriah had to guess, Capsize would rather die than marry Jordan. Which might explain the blackmail, but that left the question as to how the champion had landed on such a plan in the first place. Thankfully, there was someone right in front of Jeriah that could provide him with those answers.

Tucker found himself grabbed by the arm and dragged over to the sitting area of the abandoned house. He was shoved into a chair, looking up in confusion as Jeriah sat down across from him. Despite the coziness of his current surroundings, he was quite sure he was about to be interrogated.

“Start from the beginning and tell me how in the hell this happened,” Jeriah said, no longer yelling, but his underlying anger was undeniably still present. He would not be letting the champion leave until he had been told everything he wanted to know about what had happened in the town while he had been away.

Tucker hesitated to start. On one hand, he finally had the ability to tell someone of the situation without fear of them disbelieving him and quickly taking his words back to Jordan. That should’ve been a relief. But he also knew that none of the story he would have to tell would make him look good, none of it would be easy to admit.

However, the old soldier’s eyes were boring into him just as his words were worming his way into his head. At this point, what did he want his title to mean?

“It started the day that you and Red were leaving town. Jordan told me he was going to marry Capsize,” He started, recalling the day through a numbed regret as it felt as though it had been two years ago rather than two months. It had been such a usual and carefree day. How had everything changed so quickly? “He’s always said that she’s just playing hard to get, so I helped him set up his proposal the next day. But Capsize said no.”

He had been so focused originally on the hurt that Jordan has felt. But god, now the terror that had filled Capsize’s eyes when she’d been locking herself in the house at the end was haunting his thoughts.

“I tried to talk to her later, but she was angry about the proposal and that I’d helped. She went on a walk somewhere out of town. I don’t know where exactly, she wouldn’t tell me. That… that was the last time I saw her.”

Tucker found himself shellshocked at that realisation. The last time he had seen Capsize she’d told him she wanted to get as far away as possible because of a proposal he’d helped with.

Jeriah didn’t soften. He couldn’t hold much sympathy for the champion when at least some of the troubles he found himself facing were very much his own fault. However, he didn’t want him stuck in whatever what-if scenario he was currently locked in.

“When did Redbeard come to you for help?” He said with no comfort as he was merely trying to push the man through the story.

“Later that night. I’d taken Jordan to the tavern to cheer him up because he felt humiliated,” Tucker began again, unable to miss how Jeriah’s glare intensified at his words. “And late into the night, Red appeared yelling like a madman, talking about a beast in the woods that had imprisoned Capsize. He wanted me and Jordan to help him save her.”

“And you both refused.”

“Jordan threw him out onto the street, said he was making it all up so Capsize could go to the market and not need to face him for a few weeks,” He managed to croak out. He thought again of his own inaction that night.

He’d felt how cold Red’s skin was. He’d seen the tears in Red’s clothes. He’d heard the absolute desperation in Red’s voice. He had been worried. Yet he had still trusted Jordan’s judgement over his own.

But he couldn’t linger on it. The story wasn’t over, so he had to force himself through. “Then maybe a week later, we saw Redbeard again. Still looking a mess, still going on about Capsize being imprisoned by a beast. But this time, Jordan told Red about the proposal and they got into a yelling match about it. And Red ended up yelling in his face that Capsize can’t stand Jordan.”

There was a lot more to what the man had said, Tucker knew, but the exact details didn’t really seem important at this point.

“Jordan started muttering about Red being insane, which led him to his blackmail idea. He’s planning to bribe Monsieur Furia to detain Redbeard if Capsize won’t agree to marry him,” He finished, his energy completely leaving him. He’d already been exhausted from trying and failing to stop Jordan’s plan from progressing, having to explain how it had come to be left him drained.

Still, though, Jeriah’s opinion on his actions hadn’t changed.

“That all happened in only a little more than a week. You didn’t think at any point between then and now that you should go and look for either of the still missing people?” He asked, not quite demanding an answer but expecting one. It was the recurring sticking point for the anger that wouldn’t leave him. His own anger at himself for not returning earlier was extended to and made all the worse by the champion who had been here the whole time and chosen not to help.

“I’ve been trying to stop Jordan from meeting with Monsieur Furia! He’s already got the support of the town, all leaving him alone would’ve done was give him time to prepare!”

“And where’s Jordan now?! How has trying to delay the meeting gone for you in the long run?!”

“At least I know it’s happened! If I’d left, I would’ve had no idea! What good would it do to find them if Red’s immediately imprisoned or Capsize’s forced into a marriage she clearly doesn’t want?!”

Jeriah bit back insults he desperately wanted to throw. He wanted to call the man a coward, to give a thousand different retorts for what he could’ve done if he had any sort of backbone. But what good would it do now? What was done was done, and Jeriah couldn’t afford to throw away any potential ally at this point.

After all, of everyone in town, it was clear that Jordan was the one that held the most sway. Even compared to his fellow champion, he was the one that people listened to. If he wanted the general belief to be that Redbeard was insane, the only way any of them would be able to dissuade the notion was to possess evidence to the contrary.

“Do you want to actually help Capsize and Redbeard?” Jeriah asked with a far softer tone than he had used throughout the conversation. Still gruff and still angry, but not actively judging.

“Yes! Of course, I do,” Tucker said, not quite snapping. Even if he understood that the question was needed and was deserved, it still tore away at him. He should’ve helped them long before. The shame that he hadn’t was so much easier to swallow if he let it escape as anger. If he pretended that he had just as much a reason to judge Jeriah as Jeriah had to judge him.

“Good. I have a map to where Redbeard say the Beast’s castle is. Ride out with me today into the woods. We’ll see if we can find some sign of Redbeard, Capsize, or this Beast,” Jeriah had no idea the chances of finding anything, but he certainly had an easier time believing he would actually return from his ride to the Beast’s castle if he took the champion with him. All he needed was enough evidence for Redbeard’s story to be plausible, then Jordan’s plan would be foiled.

“Wait, you actually think there might be a beast?” Tucker asked. Though he had certainly feared some terrible incident had befallen Capsize and caused Red’s tale, he hadn’t imagined the story he had told actually being true. For Jeriah to believe such a tale felt unbelievable.

But the old soldier had seen a great many unbelievable things in his years. Monsters were not an unbelievable idea to him. Though, the idea of one being so close to the town without anyone noticing would’ve given him pause normally. Now he had very good evidence that there was something wrong with this town. If the Beast wasn’t the explanation, then it still very well fit into the mystery.

“Over the past two months, my friend and I have been investigating memories of ours that appear to have been taken from us. There’s something in or around this town that something doesn’t want us to know about. This Beast seems as good an explanation as any.”

“Wait, what do you—”

“Capsize? Redbeard?” Tucker silenced himself as Jordan’s voice carried into the house. His curiosity to know what Jeriah had been doing in his absence was immediately buried by the anxiety of needing to face Jordan when they had just been discussing working against him. He was absolutely sure his friend was going to sniff out the fact that he’d turned traitor.

Jeriah, however, held no such fear of facing the man. He’d dealt with a great deal of delusional egotists in his time. The newest really didn’t give him any pause.

“I’ll do the talking. Just assure him you’re still on his side once I leave then meet me in a few hours with a horse and a weapon,” He said in a low voice to Tucker, hoping to ensure the newly arrived champion didn’t overhear. Then he rose to his feet and made his way towards the door, this time with a far more neutral expression.

Tucker too rose to his feet, but he could only follow behind hoping to the gods that Jeriah knew what he was doing.

Jordan wasn’t quite sure who he had expected to greet him, but it was not Jeriah. Frankly, he never really thought of the man when he wasn’t actively lecturing him and certainly hadn’t considered his reappearance within his plan.

Yes, the soldier appearing before him was an obstacle that he hadn’t at all accounted for. He might be a misanthrope within the town, but he was still Capsize’s friend and could prove an annoyance to him should she go to him for help, especially if he believed any of Red’s story.

So Jordan would just have to ensure that he didn’t. He wasn’t about to have his relationship ruined once more after putting in so much effort to fix it.

“Sir Jeriah? I hadn’t realised that you’d returned,” He greeted with a smile as if the two were in any way friendly with each other.

“I can’t blame you for that, I’ve only been back perhaps an hour,” Jeriah said as if he would’ve expected the champion to notice his return at any point. Both men were very much locked in a dance of fake niceties. They could not allow the other to know of their plan or get a suspicious impression of them. So they needed to hide their true feelings from each other. “I’ve only come out here so soon due to receiving a rather concerning letter from Redbeard.”

“Oh?” Jordan said, just about managing to keep his worry about such a letter existing internal. Had Redbeard shared his delusions about Capsize disliking him with Jeriah? If so, how was he ever meant to persuade the man of his good intentions? “A letter?”

“A scrawled rambling about Capsize being imprisoned and his intent to travel into the woods to fight a Beast to free her,” Jeriah did his best to sound as if he held no belief of the story holding truth. He hoped that his friendship with Spark had imparted some of the man’s silver tongue to him. He was absolutely sure that his true worry for the siblings and disgust with the man before him was coming forth, only reassured to the contrary when he saw no doubt on the champion’s face. “I rushed here hoping to find him and stop him from recklessly putting himself in danger and get to the bottom of where such a tale came from. Instead, I found Jericho who informed me he’d been telling the same tale to you both.”

Such a wave of relief washed over Jordan, doubled when he saw Tucker come up behind the misanthrope. Leaving Tucker here to keep watch had been a fantastic idea on his part after all. He’d managed to get the stubborn old man firmly to the opinion of Red’s insanity.

“Yes, we’d thought at first that he was just drunk. But a week on and he was still spinning the impossible tale. The whole town has been whispering about his fall to madness,” Jordan said. It took a great deal of effort to not grin at the development, even knowing such an action would be a dead giveaway. But he really was delighted. Even the closest person in town to Capsize thought Red had lost it.

Maybe Capsize would too. Sure, she was defensive of her brother, but surely even she must have a limit. Regardless of whether she believed or not, though, if even her friend believed her brother insane, she would have no argument against Monsieur Furia’s judgement. Who would she have to turn to for aid but him?

“So it’s as bad as I feared,” Jeriah muttered, taking a breath to keep his rising anger hidden. He just needed to persuade the man he was on side for one conversation. But no matter how he reminded himself, he was still left with a bitter taste in his mouth for the way he was acting. “I’ll ride out and try to find him tonight. Hopefully he’s managed to keep himself safe from harm despite his mental state.”

This was getting better and better. Not only did Jeriah believe Red mad, he was going to deliver him right into the clutches of Furia. Jordan couldn’t have prayed for such luck.

With an opportunity to exit, Jeriah began to walk past him. But as he did, a thought popped into Jordan’s head. If the man was off to find Red, there was a chance he’d find Capsize at the same time. If the two were hiding, it only made sense that they’d be hiding together.

Then it held to reason, that Jeriah would be the one to tell the story of her brother’s madness to her. Jordan needed to make sure that he made a good impression in that story.

“Wait,” He said. Jeriah stopped on the top stair, one below the tiny front porch where the champion currently stood. He turned back to look at the face laced with false concern. “Do you think it’s wise to bring him back to town when Monsieur Furia had no doubt heard of his state? I cannot imagine my Capsize’s reaction if he ended up dragged to the asylum.”

There was a flash of absolute rage and disgust in Jeriah. One that left him wanting to spit at the man for attempting to fain concern for a fate he was busy ensuring the man would suffer. But if he did such a thing, not only would he be wasting whatever advantage this conversation had built him, he suspected that the champion would be rallying for his forced detainment as well.

But he was left with enough anger that he could no longer resist the urge to make the champion squirm at least a little. It might even buy them some time if Jordan felt the need to scramble to improve his plan.

“I can’t very well leave him in the woods to die. No doubt Capsize would have a far worse reaction to that. But should the worst happen and Furia has taken an interest, I have an old friend known to help people out of sticky situations. I have no doubt Spark would be happy to aid his fellow Ianitees should I write to him of their troubles.”

With that, Jeriah turned back to his exit. He had far too much preparation to do to continue playing make believe with Jordan. Hopefully the idea that someone else might be able to help Capsize free her brother would have the champion replotting for long enough that he could find the siblings and evidence of the Beast before he could ever begin blackmailing them.

Then he felt the hard shove on his back and realised too late just how far gone the champion already was.

Jeriah’s words about his friend flooded such a panic into Jordan’s head, one that forced him to act on impulse. Whoever this Spark Conway was, his arrival would ruin everything. His entire plan relied on Capsize only having him to turn to. Another Ianitee would just allow her to keep playing hard to get.

He needed to stop any letter from being sent to him no matter the cost. The easiest way to ensure that was for Jeriah to be out of the picture, no matter how useful he may have been otherwise.

Tucker saw his stance shift, realised that the push was coming the moment before it did, but he couldn’t grab Jordan’s arms in time to stop it.

With the unexpectedness of the shove and ice under foot, Jeriah lost his footing and fell from the stairs to the path below. There was a sharp pain that splintered across his forehead. Then his world went black.

Tucker stared frozen in shock. He prayed, begged for one single favour from Lord Mianite, that the man would get up. Instead, he watched as a deep crimson began to pool on the path.

“No!” Tucker practically flew down the stairs. He crouched by the man, fumbling to find a pulse. Though he couldn’t say he was in any way relaxed from his current panic, there was a small relief to find the man wasn’t dead.

Tucker turned to look back at his friend, sure that he would see shock or regret or horror or just something, something other than the easy smile he actually wore. Every bit of anger that he should’ve felt over the past two months ignited all at once. “Why the hell are you smiling?! You could’ve killed him!”

“He was going to ruin everything. I’m not having some random old friend of his appear to take Capsize’s attention away from me,” Jordan replied as he made his way towards Tucker. Why his friend was making such a fuss about this was beyond him. It wasn’t as if anyone cared about Jeriah anymore than they cared about Redbeard. “Besides, I didn’t really do anything. He slipped on the ice.”

“No! You shoved him!” Tucker argued back, refusing to let him rewrite his actions. He had already let him take this horrible plan much too far, because he wanted to believe his friend or maybe just because he was scared to lose his own standing in the town. But with Jeriah’s anger running through his head, he knew he had to fight back even if it was too late. “This has gone way too far. Capsize doesn’t want to date you let alone marry you! You can’t hurt everyone close to her to force her to be yours!”

Jordan blinked. He stood in stunned silence attempting to process that Tucker of all people had just spoken to him in such a way. His closest friend had just yelled at him. His closest friend was betraying him.

Jordan’s face hardened.

“You can look at me like that all you want! You can try and kill me too if you think that’ll somehow help you get married! But I’m not helping you with this anymore and I swear to Lord Mianite, I will stop you from doing any more harm!”

With those words, Tucker turned and hoisted Jeriah up onto his shoulder. Maybe he should’ve had some fear that Jordan would attack him like he had the misanthrope, but he’d made enough noise that townsfolks were beginning to wander over. Jordan wouldn’t dare attack his fellow champion when there were witnesses.

He had read the situation correctly. Jordan did not follow. Instead, he remained in the garden, weaving a tale to the concerned townsfolk of Redbeard attacking the soldier before fleeing towards the woods. With each word his resolve hardened. If Tucker was going to betray him, so be it. He would not allow the man to ruin the destiny his Lady had laid out for him. He could do this alone.

But Tucker had his own focus, carrying the unconscious Jeriah back to his house, hoping that he’d be able to find first aid supplies there rather than needing to run to the training grounds for them. He really had no idea where he was meant to start with undoing Jordan’s plan, but making sure Jeriah didn’t die seemed like an important step. Then he’d find the map Red had left for Jeriah and ride out to the castle where Capsize was.

He doubted Red would forgive him for not helping immediately when he could’ve. He doubted Capsize would forgive him for how her brother had been treated either. But Jeriah was right, he couldn’t keep playing hero and acting a coward.

As much as he remained unsure if there was really any truth to the tale of a beast, he had to question the itching familiarity he just couldn’t shift at the idea of a castle in the woods.

[oskea93]

Tis the Way the Wind Blows, Hummingbird (Intro)

Caleb Sykes x OC Horizon universe

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ Story will contain moments of physical, sexual, emotional, and verbal abuse, cursing, murder, suicidal ideations, childbirth, scalping, death, etc. Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these warnings. If you've seen the film or just read about it online, you already know that Caleb is a bad guy. He will remain a bad guy throughout this story as well. He will not be liked and will be vile in every way. Just a heads up if you were looking for a happy Jamie story.

Author's note: Hello and welcome to my new fic! So, I went and see Horizon (twice now) and I just had to write about everyone's favorite western villain. Jamie was amazing in this film, like he is in all his moves. Caleb is a ruthless asshole and he will stay a ruthless asshole in this story as well. I started off this story in the future - kind of like mid end just to give a small taste of the drama that will soon unfold. The next chapter will show the relationship between Elizabeth and Caleb - spoiler - it will not be pretty...

● If you would like to be tagged, please comment below ● Taglist: @austinswhitewolf, @carriewritesblog, @isla-bell-blog, @jcbbby, @eve18ahs

“You know that he’ll kill you once he finds you – even gets word that you're in these parts.”

I kept my gaze focused on the snowy mountains to the East of us, the warm spring wind flowing through my red locks, carrying with it a sense of both renewal and reckoning. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the rugged peaks, I felt a surge of conflicting emotions welling up inside me.

"Maybe that's what I want," I whispered, my eyes connecting with the older man's beside me, his weathered face reflecting wisdom and understanding. "Maybe I want him to find me, to confront me, so I can finally make him feel the pain that he inflicted upon me for all those years."

Grady let out a scoff, his voice rough with years of experience and a hint of skepticism. "You thinkin' that you'll be able to kill that crazy sumbitch? That whole goddamn family is off their rockers, Elizabeth. That boy especially – his eyes are wilder than a banshee."

I let out a sigh, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. "I'm not afraid of them anymore, Grady." The truth spilled out, raw and unfiltered, a truth that I had wrestled with for far too many years. "As long as that little girl is nowhere in his sight or the sight of that pack of wolves he calls brothers-" I stopped mid-sentence, a sudden chill running down my spine as our gazes reconnected. "I don't care what happens to me."

The older man stayed silent for a moment, his face betraying a mix of disbelief and concern as my words lingered in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. "You're just gonna let that little girl grow up without a mama? Have her go to some home and let a bunch of strangers take care of her? I thought you had more sense than that, youngin."

"She ain't gonna be with a stranger, Grady," I insisted, my voice firm with conviction as I met his gaze. His eyebrows creased in confusion, a mix of surprise and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "If I don't make it back, I want you to raise her just like you rais-"

"No-" Grady interjected, his hands waving in the air as he took a step back, a look of protest on his wrinkled face.

"Grady, listen, please," I implored, closing the distance between us as I followed in his tracks. "You are the only constant in both of our lives. You're the only one I trust with her – she needs you just like I did all those years ago."

His back, hunched over from years of work, moved slowly with each deep breath as he processed my words. "Emily loves you, Grady, and you love her too. At least if I do die, I will die knowing that my daughter will always be protected and loved."

"I'm too old to be carin for a six-year-old child, Elizabeth," Grady retorted, a smirk forming across my face in response to his protest.

"You've been saying that for years, Grady dear," I remarked softly, my hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Pretty sure those were the same words you uttered when I was placed upon your porch many years ago. Looks like you're still here, sir."

His aging body slowly turned around, his eyes glistening with threatening tears, a testament to the emotions churning beneath the surface. "Caleb is a ruthless man, Lizzie," Grady's tone was low, filled with a mixture of concern and a hint of fear. "He's the lowest of the barrel – capable of doing anything to anyone, including his wife and mother to his child."

I gave him a tight smile, my hand squeezing his bicep in a gesture of reassurance and solidarity. "I'll make sure he draws first."

[librosamarillos]

passed down like folk songs

chapter 39: i will just let you down

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

chapter index

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

“Please bring more pillows. Her grace will need to be comfortable.” Rowan asked one of the maids preparing the rooms for their upcoming guests. She had already seen to Aenys and Viserys’ rooms being prepared, and all that was now left was to ensure the expectant Queen’s comfort during their stay. 

“Right away, my Lady.” the maid closest to her said, heading out to get more pillows. She wasn’t sure if it would be too many, but then Alyssa could remove them as she saw fit.

“Thank you.” Rowan smiled, looking around the room, seeing the bath being prepared with lukewarm water, as per the maester’s suggestions. All was done. She could feel the servants taking discreet looks of her and she tried to not mind it too much. She knew she looked ridiculous, so she could blame no one. 

“My Lady, the King and Queen have arrived.” a young pageboy announced as he ran through the door. Rowan’s breath was stuck in her throat for a second, before she thanked him and began to leave the Queen’s room.

She took a quick, final look in the mirror, taking a moment to straighten her skirts and make sure she looked presentable, trying to ignore her horrid hair framing her face so unevenly, and made her way down to the front entrance, where Aenys, Alyssa and Viserys were stood.

Aenys looked pale, far paler than he’d ever looked before, as well as significantly thinner. He had dark undereye bags that betrayed his lack of sleep, that she could only assume was weeks long. Alyssa, thank the gods, looked far healthier, as well as little Viserys who was looking around curiously. 

“Welcome to Dragonstone, your Graces. I hope your journey has been a smooth and safe one.” Rowan greeted them with a warm smile and a polite curtsy. Aenys returned her smile and opened his mouth to reply, but Alyssa seemed confused.

“Has the Dowager Queen not been made aware of our arrival? Why is she not the one here to greet us?” she asked, looking beyond Rowan, to see if perhaps Visenya was about to make a late entrance. Aenys bit his lip, and Rowan straightened her back.

“She has been made aware, your Grace. She… did not wish to greet you and has sent for me to do so.” she explained, giving the Queen an apologetic smile as she repeated exactly what Visenya had told her to say, albeit without the condescending tone, but Aenys at least seemed to understand that it was implied.

Alyssa seemed displeased with the response and looked at Aenys almost expectantly, but it was clearly not a battle that Aenys wanted to fight at the moment. Instead, he smiled at Rowan, and she could swear his lilac eyes seemed bloodshot.

“Thank you, Lady Evergreen. Our journey has been smooth.” he said, looking down at Viserys, who was looking up at the sky. Rowan assumed he was looking to spot dragons flying over the castle, and she knew he did not have to wait long. While Vhagar enjoyed a more solitary day, most of the unclaimed dragons liked to fly around. Rowan still found them all unnerving despite all the years she spent around them.

“I’ve had the maids draw baths for all three of you. I am sure you must be exhausted from your travels. Please, allow me to show you to your rooms.” she said, leading the way through Dragonstone’s all too familiar halls. 

After showing Viserys to his room and showing his nursemaid where everything was, she showed Alyssa to hers, which was just across the hall from her son’s room. Alyssa seemed happy to rest, though she did not seem to let go of Visenya’s slight. Rowan was certain this was going to become an issue, but she knew the Dowager Queen would love for the fight to break out. Before she could say farewell to Aenys, he stopped her.

“May I have a moment, Rowan?” he asked before she left the room. His servants had just finished unpacking a few of the many cases of things he had brought, but he had stopped them, asking them for privacy. She could only nod.

“Of course, your Grace.” she replied, earning a smile from the King, who let his silent complaint against formalities be known. “Of course, Aenys.” she corrected herself, now earning a nod from him.

He seemed exhausted and Rowan wanted to ask him why not fly to Dragonstone on Qucksilver, who true to her name, would’ve been here a lot quicker than a ship. But then she rationalised it by thinking that after the attempt on his life, he would not wish to leave Alyssa and Viserys alone, and perhaps she would be uncomfortable to fly with him, even though she was still early in her pregnancy. Rowan decided not to bring it up at all.

“Can I ask?” he asked, almost shyly, looking at her face, or rather, her hair. “What happened to your hair?” he asked again, trying to not offend with an amused tone. She appreciated the politeness, but still looked away in shame.

“I…” she sighed. “I just had… a lot of emotions about being back here, and I somehow gained an incredible confidence to make a change to my appearance.” she gave a very watered down answer, trying to fight the embarrassment. “And yes, I regretted it immediately. I know it looks awful. It’ll… It’ll grow back. Eventually, I mean.” she mumbled, praying for that time to come soon so that she’d finally not have people stare. 

“A lot of emotions?” he asked, his tone full of empathy. “About… him?” he asked once more, almost hesitant to scratch Rowan’s open wounds. She took in a slow breath. She understood that he’d want to know, that he was curious. She just didn’t expect it to come up so quickly, but then again, her sudden change of appearance warranted questions.

“Coming back here after what he did… I don’t know. All I could think about was that just outside the castle, he chose to marry another woman.” she finally said out loud. “I thought I was calm, sad but calm, but when I was done with my duties and I was all alone with my thoughts, it all became overwhelming. As if all the memories we had together here have been tainted with grief. As if I have the right to such grief.” she said with a shaky breath. “We… we used to play out there when we were small, you know?” she added, even though it felt like rubbing salt on her wounds. She was not his wife. She was not the one he betrayed. Yet no matter how many times she repeated that to herself, the worse it all hurt.

“Hey, don’t say that.” he approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder, his tone comforting. “You’ve every right to feel that grief. He hurt you.” he frowned, as he thought for a moment. Rowan took another deep breath, trying to shake her head, to pretend she was fine and that it was all fine. “Have you… heard from him?” he asked slowly, like he was unsure of what her reaction would be. Perhaps he was afraid she’d cut her hair again.

“I… yes and no.” she answered truthfully. “He keeps a correspondence with his mother and she sometimes tells me how he’s doing.” Rowan explained, leaving behind the fact that he indirectly addressed her in his letters. It was just too much to talk about with his brother, who he planned to dethrone. “Do you wish to write to him?” she asked, wondering if his question was trying to pry at how easy it would be to send a message to his exiled brother.

“No.” he said a bit too quickly. “No, I do not. I have nothing to say to him, I was only worried about you.” he explained further, as if his defensive tone didn’t betray him. Rowan returned his look of sympathy and bit her lip slightly.

“May I… May I be candid with you, Aenys?” she asked, trying to approach the subject lightly and carefully, so as to not scare him off.

“Of course you may. You always may!” he replied with a small smile. Rowan wanted to return it, but she felt too guilty. She felt there was a genuine foundation for friendship between them despite the formalities that held them back, and they were able to be really vulnerable with each other. Yet, now, she couldn’t be fully honest with him.

“Why not call for him? Ask for his help? Let him bring things back in order?” she asked slowly, hesitantly. Aenys seemed taken aback by her questions for a moment, but he shook his head, a small smile of disbelief on his lips as he walked away from her.

“Of course you’d suggest this.” he sighed, almost disappointed. “Do you wish to see him?” he asked, his tone suggesting this was an accusation. Rowan shook her head, ashamed for bringing it up.

“I am angry.” she started. “You have no idea how angry I am at him for all the grief he has brought upon me, for all he did to Ceryse. But Aenys, you cannot keep doing this. They made an attempt to kill you! How long until they try again? And Aegon and Rhaena? What if they become targets?” she asked, trying to get him to see reason.

“You think I don’t know this? Is it not clear as day that I do not sleep?” he snapped, his voice still low, trying to not shout. Rowan frowned, ashamed at the implications of her tone. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be sharp.” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“But you’re not taking any action! So let Maegor do it. Ask for his help, and then when things are calm again, you can see what to do about his banishment. The city will fall apart if you don’t do something.” she pleaded with him, trying to swallow her guilt.

“You think he’ll actually do it? Come back after I exiled him; after our shouting match?” he mumbled, contemplating for a moment. “He’d sooner laugh in my face for failing than ever complying with my orders again.” he frowned deeply. His relationship with his brother was clearly a very sensitive subject at the moment. It was something they both shared it seemed, a big sensitivity to the topic of Maegor Targaryen.

“He’s your brother. No matter how angry he is, he will not ignore your call for help.” she approached him, trying to reassure him that his brother would return if he called for him to. Yes, she knew that he had much bigger plans than to just help his brother, but she knew that deep down, Maegor also wished their relationship was better. 

“I think if you call for him, he’ll do it. He’d fly here as soon as he had your letter in his hands.” he laughed dryly. Rowan hated how her heart fluttered at his words. It hurt, it all still hurt so much, but she’d be a huge liar to say she didn’t love him with every fibre of her being. “How humiliating that I’d go running back to my little brother, after such a scandal.” he sighed again. “I see them all, you know, my Kingsguard, and how frustrated they are with me. How they’re all silently comparing me to him, and sometimes, I cannot help but do it too. I hesitate, I know, and he does not. The one time he did hesitate, it cost him you, and he won’t hesitate again. That’s why they all would rather have him here instead.” he confessed, his voice slightly above a whisper, leaving Rowan speechless.

Her heart was in a twist, hearing Aenys speak out loud about that fateful day. It was true, Maegor told her himself, that he hesitated to argue further with his father in order to please him, and it cost him their life together. It hurt further to also hear that it was the reason he became so ruthless, even though she knew it deep down. It was too much for both of them.

“Please rest. Have your bath and sleep. Please sleep.” she patted him on the back. He looked so frail up close, it was worrying. She would tell her worries to the maester as well as the ladies in the kitchens. Some more hearty meals, something to give him more energy, it would do him good. Aenys appreciated the kind gesture and offered her a kind smile.

“Let me think about it.” he said. “Thank you once again for your honesty, Rowan. And I’m sorry about your hair.” He escorted her out of his room and offered one last smile before closing the door. 

Rowan felt horrid for knowing about Visenya and Maegor’s goals and knowingly urging Aenys to make a decision that would help aid those goals. She found herself walking the familiar route to Visenya’s rooms to let her know that the King, Queen and young Prince were settling in, all the while she contemplated her own actions. 

Would it not be for the best if Maegor returned? She had to think of the stability and safety of the people, and the huge political and economic unrest that these rebellions would bring to everyone. While yes, her house had the utmost privilege of being well protected, what of those who weren’t? What of all those caught in the crossfire? And the effects all of this would have on the smallfolk, who depended on all the houses to make good decisions?

She hated to think about what would come next, about the conflict between the two brothers once Maegor’s plans became real. Because in what way would there be a smooth transition of power? Still, she thought that Aenys would be much happier without the heavy burdens of the crown. He’d get to sleep calmly and not worry about the safety of his children, perhaps travel around the seven Kingdoms… Perhaps Rowan was deluding herself into justifying Visenya and Maegor’s plans. 

She entered Visenya’s room with a heavy heart, finding her lounging on her chair, a letter in her hands. A sight that was very common these days. She looked up, urging her to come in and sit as well, before passing the letter to her.

“Your father wrote to me. He worries about you, says you haven’t written back to him, or to Erin and Finn.” she explained as Rowan read over her father’s letter. “What’s wrong, my girl? You normally write to them all the time.” she said, cupping her cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Rowan felt ashamed. She had tried to write to her family, and yet when she was alone in her room, all she could do was wallow. She’d lie in bed trying to rationalise all her emotions, and then her mind would take her right back to that altar outside the castle gates and all she’d think about was that day, that decision, that ceremony, that she did not even witness the same way she did Ceryse’s, and yet it hurt a thousand times more.

���Why are you apologising to me?” Visenya asked with a gentle tone. When Rowan did not answer, she patted the space next to her. “Come here, sit.” She complied, and was welcomed into Visenya’s embrace. 

Neither said anything.

She felt that Visenya was, once again, being extra gentle with her, like she was made of glass. She could not protest, as she was sure that she was acting like a nervous wreck. And her father, her sweet father, whose letter to Visenya was full of care and concern for her, his only child? Gods, she felt so guilty. Normally she’d write to her family so often, that her lack of letters now had raised concern. But what would she write? ‘Forgive me father, I was a wreck because I am haunted by memories and I also cut my hair and I look ridiculous’?

Visenya did not need her to say anything at all. She knew. And Rowan could not be more grateful to have her in her life. She gave her the space to wallow and cry, and she hugged her and played with her hair. It was everything she wished her mother could do if she were still alive. Thankfully, Visenya had gladly taken the role. 

“How about tonight you write to your father, hm?” she asked softly, as she moved stray hairs out of her face. Rowan nodded. She had to write back eventually, better start now. “Then you can tell me what Alyssa’s face was like when she saw you instead of me.” she japed, rubbing her shoulder and trying to get a smile. 

Aenys paced around his room. He was restless and even after a bath, he could not wind down to sleep, for there was far too much happening in his mind. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, something he used to relish in before all this mess, looking on expectantly, ready to be let down once more. He found himself on the desk, staring at a bank parchment, quilt in his shaking hand.

It could be a horrible idea, to unleash Maegor in all his anger and resentment onto the realm, to burn all those not fiercely loyal to the crown. It was everything his parents told him to never do, but as he stared at the parchment and thought about the fact that his children were in danger, that his wife could be next, that everything could crumble beneath their feet, what choice did he truly have?

How could he even begin to address his little brother? How could he put into words all the dread that consumed him? Would his brother even accept his plea of help? Perhaps it would be best if he asked Rowan to write to him. He would never hesitate to come to her aide if she were to ask, while Aenys was unsure he could claim the same. 

Dear brother,

Then what? What could he even say that wouldn’t be awkward? He felt like a dog with its tail between his legs, running back to his brother who he exiled for his help. He sighed. Then what was to come if he accepted? Would he bring Alys Harroway back to King’s Landing with him and force him to acknowledge her as his wife the same way Ceryse was? That would cause an even bigger rift between the crown and the faith, along with his good sister’s family. Perhaps if he asked him to return alone? Or even better, if he asked Rowan to write to him and ask him to return alone? Surely he would.

His attention shifted from the parchment to the door, when his guard announced the arrival of his wife. Aenys was surprised to see her walking about, as he had expected her to relax and rest after their long travels. Alyssa looked concerned as she approached him, her eyes searching his face, looking for something.

“I thought you would like to rest, my dear, why are you all dressed up?” he asked, reaching for her hand to place a kiss on when she came close. She was much more dressed up than he was, looking like a proper Queen, while he was dressed down as he felt exhausted.

“I could say the same about you. I thought I’d find you sleeping.” she smiled. He felt guilty as he nodded. He was not fully honest with her about losing sleep. They did not share a room on most nights, much less now that she needed all the comfort she could get, so she did not see him lying wide awake at night. She did not need to worry about him as well. Alyssa’s smile fell as her eyes darted to the parchment in front of him, as she realised who he was planning to write to. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m… I’m not so sure myself.” he confessed. “I thought I could ask my brother to return, to help us. But I fear I cannot find the words.” he explained further, looking back down at the letter, partly avoiding his wife’s gaze. She looked upset.

“Aenys, have you really thought this through? Why not send an army, or call our bannermen? This cannot be the best option.” she protested, looking at him like he was crazy. She looked bewildered that he would actually consider it, as did he.

“He is my brother, Alyssa.” he said, trying to find the right words to explain how he felt, but he could not. His mind was such a mess that he could not trust himself fully.

“Your brother who disrespected and undermined your word? The son of the woman who mocks you and cannot hide her disdain for you, despite the fact that you are King?” she asked, her tone still bewildered. She was right, of course she was, but still…

“I’m thinking of our family, of our children, of you and the babe! Believe me, I would love a better, easier solution, but as every single person keeps reminding me, I am running out of time!” he snapped, immediately regretting his tone, but Alyssa did not waver. Instead, she took his face in her hands, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“We will find a solution, one that will not make the realm hate and ridicule us.” she reassured him as she cupped his cheeks. “But now we must go speak to your aunt. It was a huge slight, what she did this morning. Sending her lady in waiting instead of greeting us herself. No matter how she feels regarding Dragonstone being passed to Aegon, you are still the King. She should not disrespect you like this with no consequence.” she said. 

“I do not have it in me to fight with my aunt.” he sighed, looking away from her eyes. It was already hard enough knowing his aunt still frightened him, just as she did when he was a child, and the fact that he was now here because it was safer, because she made Dragonstone safe, he could not handle any arguments, or her cold comments. He was tired.

“If you do not, she will only get worse. My love, let us go see her and at least hear what she has to say about her actions.” she insisted, and Aenys could do nothing but relent.

She called for the servants to come dress him, as he could not make a statement in his plain clothes. The fine purple robes felt heavy, everything did. His wife was right, he could not keep accepting disrespect, but he was in no mood to make a fuss. 

Accompanied by his Kingsguard, they made their way to the chamber of the painted table. His aunt was dressed regally, a statement of her own, but she was not overlooking the table, rather preferring the window. As always, her lady Rowan was by her side, writing down what she was telling her. Rowan looked up, surprised to see him and Alyssa, and curtsied promptly. Visenya remained unmoving, not acknowledging the King and Queen, a silent challenge to see if he dared to speak. 

“Your grace-” Rowan spoke up, ready to fill their cups, but Alyssa stopped her.

“We would like some privacy, lady Evergreen.” Alyssa said, offering Rowan a kind smile. Rowan did not leave straight away, instead looking up to Visenya, to see what her orders would be. His aunt did not move from her place, but nodded at Rowan to dismiss her. 

She offered them all another curtsy before leaving the room, but Aenys could swear she shot him a worried look, one that told him to watch his step, to not make enemies.

With Rowan gone, the room had an eerie silence. He could hear his own heart beating in his ears. He felt like a child about to be scolded, but Alyssa was angry at his aunt’s blatant disrespect. His wife shot him an expectant look, telling him to speak up. He took a breath and wished Rowan was not dismissed, as she could perhaps keep the peace between them.

“I hope you’re not feeling ill. I could only assume so, since you did not come to greet us.” he tried to sound confident, the way Alyssa needed him to be. His aunt still did not move to face them, but her face hardened. He could feel a lump in his throat as he braced himself for impact.

“Did you find my lady’s greeting lacking?” she asked coldly, her tone harsh. The question was ironic, as it was another challenge to push him further. He felt Alyssa shift next to him.

“It is customary to greet your King and Queen in person.” she said, her voice moving dangerously close to passive aggressive. His aunt, once more, refused to turn. Her eyes were pinned somewhere outside, in the yard.

“Is it now?” she asked coldly. “As you can see, I am terribly busy preparing the castle for potential attacks- I know the concept is completely foreign to you both, but it is a demanding task.” her words dripped with condescension. Both Aenys and Alyssa stiffened, as Visenya slowly turned to face them, looking down at them as if they were but bothersome children and not the King and Queen. “Tell me, how did you manage to humiliate yourselves even more, then come running here demanding I come say hello to you?” she asked.

“What happened in King’s Landing was… unfortunate. As you know, the Red Keep is not yet finished and…” he trailed. It was a lie. What happened shook him to his core, but he had to stand tall, or at the very least try to. “I can only hope your feelings toward me need not be made public. I do not wish to reprimand you for disrespect.” he managed to say, before his aunt let out a cold laugh.

“Reprimand me?” she laughed. “Where did this nerve come from?” she challenged him, but Aenys did not know how to respond, so she went on. “You exile my son, you grant his title to your brat of a son, and yet what do you have to show for it?” she spat, her anger no longer masked. He did not have time to react to the insults before Alyssa did.

“Aegon is the heir to the throne.” she stated, her tone hiding an almost threat, like she was trying to put his aunt in her place. “It is only natural that he is the Prince of Dragonstone. Your husband was the one who planned this.” she said that last sentence with a pointed look, like she wanted to hit her where she knew it would hurt, angered by the insult hurled at their son.

Aenys froze completely when she brought up his father. Alyssa was never this bold or fierce before. She was lively and charming and kind, but never quick to anger. He assumed it was because she was with child, her instincts to defend her children being heightened. Not to mention all the stress of the past moons. He wanted to admire her, had this not been the worst possible thing to say to his aunt.

Visenya’s eyes hardened and if looks could kill, they’d be dead where they stood. Her gaze was ice cold and he could feel himself shrinking in fear as she slowly walked closer to them, until she was standing right before them, towering above him like he was still a small child.

“Strong words coming from a fool. Do you think your boy will even have a throne to inherit with how you’ve been running things? Where is he now? Being chased down by rebels?” she asked, staring Alyssa down. Aenys just wanted to disappear.

“Is this amusing to you?” his wife demanded when she saw the smirk on his aunt’s face.

“Hilarious.” she spat. “It is hilarious to me that you come to my home demanding respect you’ve done nothing to earn, but I suppose it cannot be helped, since you’ve both been spoiled rotten.” she crossed her arms as she stared them both down. Alyssa went to answer, but this time, he interrupted.

“I do not wish to fight, or argue with you.” he said, his tone almost pleading. He could not say the same for Alyssa. “I wish to protect my family from rebels. I’ve tried asking them what they want, to come to me with their concerns, but they only hurl insults at me-” he began to explain, before he saw the flash of anger in Visenya’s eyes.

“You are a fool and a weakling, nephew. Do you think any man would’ve ever dared speak so to your father?” she asked. Aenys did not even have to answer, they all knew no one would dare. “You have a dragon. Use him. Fly to Oldtown and make this Starry Sept another Harrenhal, or give me leave and let me roast this pious fool for you.”

Her words hung in the air and he found it hard to breathe. His first instinct was to say no, to deny her call to violence. But was this not why he was considering calling for Maegor to return? His aunt was right, no man would dare speak to his father the way the rebels spoke to him, and neither would they speak so to Maegor. They knew better.

He could not imagine himself flying into battle with Quicksilver. He flew often, at least he used to, before his father’s death. His mother would take him flying on Meraxes when he was small, until his Quicksilver was big enough to ride, and then they’d take to the skies together. He was no warrior, and neither was his dragon. He could not risk her getting hurt by his own foolishness. He loved Quicksilver, she was a part of him. She flew above their ship the whole time it took for them to sail here.

“Do not speak to him like that!” Alyssa’s voice snapped him back to reality. Her first instinct was to defend her husband, another trait he would admire if he was not worried his aunt would strike them both down with Dark Sister, which she carried everywhere. 

“Or what? What will you do?” Visenya asked, her tone almost amused, like she was arguing with a child throwing a tantrum, which only angered Alyssa more. 

“Please, enough of this!” he pleaded, standing in between them. “The hour grows late, let us all rest. We shall discuss this tomorrow.” he looked at his aunt, trying to silently ask her to see him and not ignore his presence.

“Very well.” his aunt concluded. 

The tension was still thick in the air, but the guard’s announcement of Lady Rowan’s return brought a sense of relief to Aenys. She rushed in the room, not offering any pleasantries or curtsies, instead walking up to his aunt, her face flushed with worry.

“Your graces, forgive me for interrupting, but the news I’ve just received are rather urgent.” she apologised, showing the raven scroll in her hands. Aenys could feel his heart stop- had something happened to his son and daughter?

“What happened?” his aunt asked promptly, meeting her lady halfway across the room. It was then that he recognised the opened seal on the scroll, green, a Hightower seal. He shared an alarmed look with Alyssa, the realisation that something could’ve happened to their good sister hitting them. Rowan took in a shaky breath.

“Lord Manfred Hightower is dead.” she announced to them all, but her eyes were on Visenya, whom she handed the scroll to. “A fever has taken him.” she added, with worry clear on her face. Her mind was clearly going to her friend, Ceryse. “His eldest son, Lord Martyn Hightower is now the Lord of the Hightower, the head of his house, beacon of the south, defender of Oldtown and the Citadel and Lord of the Port.” she finished the announcement, trying to sound as proper as she could.

Aenys was once again speechless. 

taglist:@heartstalked@stupidocupido@discowizard88@slytherisstuff

[cafeinthemoon]

King - Chapter VI

Chapter 6

Wordcount 5,6k

Title A Kingdom of Women

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: Mentions of unwanted pregnancies; multiple pregnancies; basically, Poseidon is not a good man

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: Wow, finally a new chapter for this story! Even I find it hard to believe lol As pointed out by a reader in the comments, this story demands a lot of effort, and one of the reasons is obviously the chapters' lenght. This time, it's longer than all the others, as a compensation for the lack of updates. Tbh many things happened in the last weeks that kept me away from my works, but I don't want to discuss them here. It's not worthy.

Here are some hints about this chapter:

I tried to make Poseidon's character closer to his mythological version, which includes his relations with women. Though he doesn't make a proper appearance in this one, his presence is felt in each event, each sentence. He's the main subject of the conversations, whether in a positive or negative way. I love when this kind of stuff is included in stories to emphasize the importance of a character, and I hope I managed to do it right :)

Here we will have the first solid (or not) info about Amphitrite. I like Amphitrite's figure, and I will turn her into an important part of the structure here.

Of course, the selkie's skin is in her husband's possession. The thing with selkies' skin doesn't sit right to me, and I used this concept to create another source of tension for this story.

Finally, I'm sorry for the big delay and I hope you enjoy this new chapter :)

Yes, you have to stay vigilant, but no one can do this forever. Even the strongest can get exhausted. So, you need to relax. The thing is that you must learn when and where – and with who – you will allow yourself to rest. This can be scary in the beginning, and you will feel the most terrifying loneliness, but experience will come, and you will find balance.

Remember: your home is where your friends are.

When you were sent back to the lodge, the only things you wanted were a bit of silence and a moment by yourself, so you could process the events of the last day, your new position as a married woman and the task that was now in your hands: how would you manage to do something that only the most experienced masters were able to do, you who were never trained in any form of combat, not even in the use of knives? Yes, you did get your wish of not bearing a child answered, but were you really successful in your negotiations with your husband? You doubted that, and as to keep you in your place, he made sure you didn’t think you were.

Well, contrary to your wishes, once you stepped into the room and were left there by the servant (the same who took you to the ceremony’s preparations), you were barely allowed to readjust in it, because Alyssa was just too excited to see you again: ignoring your requests for her to be careful, she left her spot at the window and almost ran toward you when the door was opened, her hands around her belly as to protect the baby from her own recklessness.

– Y/n?! Y/n! Is that really you?!

You sighed in relief when she stopped in front of you with no troubles, but didn’t have time to think of this because the girl wrapped her arms around you and gave you the tightest hug that her condition allowed her.

– You’re finally back! – her voice was a rushed whisper – You should have been sent back yesterday, so when the night passed with no sign of you, I feared that something might have happened to you! But I’m glad you’re okay…

Though you were touched by those words, you preferred not try to wonder what Alyssa had in mind.

– Thank you – you moved away to look into her eyes – He decided to keep me with him for the entire night, so I had no choice. I’m sorry for causing you such anxiety.

You went to sit with her on your bed.

– So, yes, I’m back, but I don’t think okay is the best word to describe myself right now.

The girl frowned.

– No? How so?

You stood in silence for a moment, trying to find the appropriate way to turn your thoughts into words... And, when you did, was solely to provoke in your friend a laughing crisis.

– So… – you started – You told me that many things could happen once I found myself in Poseidon-sama’s presence… But why didn’t you tell me that this included being carried around like a bag of potatoes?

The sound of Alyssa’s laughter filled the enormous room before you could even finish the word potatoes. Her body trembled as she fought to control it, covering her mouth and closing her eyes tight, tears rolling through her hands. At first, you showed impatience – after all, being laughed at by a god by what he saw as fragility was a serious matter to you – but her reaction was so genuine that you just couldn’t stay mad.

– Alyssa, that’s not funny, okay? I didn’t enjoy being treated like that! It was humiliating and I just want to forget it!

– A bag of potatoes! Just imagine the Lord of the Seas carrying one! I can’t!

– Stop it! – you yelled, laughing too.

She took a deep breath and, then, was finally able to speak normally again.

– I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t help it! I was so worried about you and then, when you finally come back, this is the first thing you have to say? – she raised her hands in rendition – It’s just too hilarious!

You rolled your eyes.

– I wish I could see things that way.

Calming down, Alyssa gave you another reason for her attitude.

– Well, actually, it’s not just funny. I’m also surprised that he did this to you as well.

Now, you were the surprised one.

– What do you mean?

– When I was brought to the altar, I was wearing a transparent dress, so the first thing that Poseidon-sama noticed was the size of my legs – the girl explained – He didn’t say anything about them, but his disappointment filled the space between us. When he grabbed my hand and took me to the chambers where our wedding would be consummated, he made a comment about me being too slow and started carrying me on his shoulder – and, as if deliberating with herself, – But you’re a bit taller than me, you know? You must be able to walk faster… – she shrugged – Well, I guess this isn’t enough for him as well… – turning back to you, she suddenly changed the subject – But what about the wedding? The first time you saw him? What did you think? How did it feel like? Tell me everything!

Your cheeks got warm when you recalled the wedding night. You still had mixed feelings about it, so that you weren’t cheering for all that happened, at the same time that you weren’t really sad. But since you were still trying to digest such feelings, you sensed that this wasn’t the time to discuss them; Alyssa could be an understanding friend in case you did it, but you wouldn’t overwhelm her when she was so content for having you back.

– Well, I… Since our family was never devoted to any god, I had no idea of what to expect – you started – I just thought that Poseidon-sama would be similar to the statues we use to see in the temples’ entries and the public spaces. So I was really surprised when I finally saw him – you lowered your tone – He’s beautiful… And with a beauty that’s simply impossible for any human!

– I know – Alyssa commented – He firmly believes that gods are the ultimate bearers of perfection, so he does anything to embody this idea.

You chuckled.

– And I have to say it works in his case. Still, there are some unsettling things about him, such as, when you only take his appearance into account, you might think he’s around our age, but when you look into his eyes, this illusion disappears, and he looks older than everyone, anything you know… – a shiver appeared on your neck and went down your back while you remembered the god’s eyes – Older and terrifying.

Alyssa had an explanation for this.

– He’s one of the eldest deities from Greece, and was chosen to rule over the Domain of the Seas before the mythological ages. Water is a primordial element from all known worlds, including ours, you know? It’s only appropriate.

– Makes sense.

– Besides… you probably noticed that he’s not exactly a mild-tempered man – she lowered her voice, as if afraid of being heard by anyone beyond you.

You remembered the quake on the day you arrived and could only agree.

– This is why I was so worried for you, y/n – Alyssa continued – You’re just so lucky that he didn’t find any reasons to be displeased with you…

You bit your lip.

– Well… maybe he already did.

Your friend opened her mouth and closed it again, and you felt her fear and preoccupation in that small gesture. She asked what were you talking about.

– When Poseidon-sama took me to the chambers where we would have our wedding night, I made him a request – you swallowed – I asked him not to impregnate me.

Alyssa needed to make a superhuman effort to not scream when she heard that.

– You what?! But, how did you…?! – she shook her head – Do you have any idea of what it means to ask such thing from a god? Even more Poseidon-sama?

You let out an impatient sigh.

– I didn’t want to come here and I didn’t want to get married! You already know that – and, calming down a bit, – Not bearing a child was the last hint of freedom I could think of maintaining in this place, so I risked everything I still had (which wasn’t that much) in a deal with him. I’m a merchant, don’t you remember? – you shrugged – This preservation instinct... it runs in our blood.

The other girl frowned, still not believing that you indeed negotiated with Poseidon.

– Well, can you tell me the whole story, then?

– Of course.

And for the next minutes you recalled the events of that night, as well as the mission you received from your husband that morning, moments before he sent you back to the lodge, not hiding anything – except the nickname he gave you. Alyssa listened to each word carefully, not making a single interruption, but the sudden changes in her expression as the story followed revealed everything you needed to know about her feelings towards it.

In the end, by the fact that you returned to the room and the consistence of your narration, she was convinced that the god answered your plead; besides, she remembered seeing a small table close to the bed with a bottle upon it, both similar to the objects you described, and it was easy to imagine that there was a contraceptive fluid inside it.

However, she didn’t think her husband agreed with this deal as if moved by anything that resembled mercy, and she said that to you.

– By what I could see from him, I agree with you – was your reply – The nature of this mission is a proof itself.

Your friend let a hesitant “hm” escape.

– Yes, but that’s not exactly what I’m talking about…

– How so?

She gave you a worried gaze.

– I guess I didn’t tell you everything you need to know about being married with the god of the Seas – she moved upon the bed in discomfort – Look… Having children with desirable traits is not the only reason why Poseidon-sama has so many wives. The fact that most of us conceive in our first time with him makes us… unavailable for quite some time, to start with. There are other factors that might separate him from us, such as sickness and recovering periods between one pregnancy and the next, as well as when his presence is requested out of his domains, mostly in councils at Valhalla, which forces him to stay away for weeks, sometimes for months. For all of this, it’s convenient for him that some his wives are infertile or ask him to not have babies.

You frowned. So, there were women who were unable to bear children among you, and that wasn’t a problem for him? And you weren’t the first to make him that type of request? Well, now that you thought about it, it was only logical that you wouldn’t be: Poseidon has been taking wives for centuries, and you couldn’t suppose that all of them were willing to become mothers.

Besides...

– So, you’re telling me that if I’m not having a baby anytime soon, it means that he will…

It was unnecessary to finish the sentence. Alyssa gave you a silent nod. It was now more than clear that your request wasn’t the most clever decision from your part, something that you could have avoided if you were familiar with gods and their whims.

So, he’s this kind of man, then? Honestly, this side of him was clear for all the time we were together.

Still, you had some counterpoints.

– Alyssa, if I’m not the first to make this type of proposal to him, why did you react that way?

– First, because of your courage, perhaps increased by the fact that you know little about gods. Second, because I could never suppose that he would say yes to such proposal coming from a human – she put her hand under her chin, deliberating – He might have had something in mind… Something that we can’t figure out for now…

– Yes, I see, but there are other things that I can’t ignore. For example, what about Amphitrite-sama? She’s a goddess and his first wife. She is above us. I don’t see why he would chase after us when she’s there for him.

The look your friend gave you told you that you were, for one more time, wrong.

– Maybe it’s time for you to know about Amphitrite-sama, y/n.

Alyssa told you that what existed between Poseidon and Amphitrite was a marriage of convenience: she was the daughter of ancient sea deities, who inhabited those lands long before Poseidon’s arrival, and who offered her hand in exchange of their permanence in them; Poseidon accepted the offer as a way to reassure his dominance over the seas, and it has been like this since then. At first, they even tried to live as a normal couple, but it didn’t take long for both to realize it wouldn’t work, so that today they were just two people who shared the same house, and were more like professional partners then husband and wife.

– Amphitrite-sama’s personal life is a mystery to all of us – Alyssa explained – She’s rarely spotted by any of the other wives, and talking to her is almost impossible for us. Only Poseidon-sama, Proteus-sama and the servants are in touch with her routine and habits. We don’t even know exactly her feelings and thoughts towards us: some of the girls believe she hates us, this being the reason why we don’t see her often, but others think she actually cares for us, because she was the first to know the god of the seas as a man, so she’s aware of what is like to be in our place. I’ve never seen her myself, and I’m not sure of what to think, but I think she uses to spend her time out of here, maybe with her family, friends or a lover. I suppose we will never know.

You, from your part, were sure that enduring days and nights beside a man like the Tyrant of the Seas and being forced to accept the presence of thousands of other women in her own house must have been anything but easy. You were able to feel compassion for the goddess, but tried not to think too much about it.

What really interested you about Amphitrite, to be honest, had nothing to do with her private life or marriage.

– I’d understand if she chose to live her life that way. I suppose I myself would do the same if I was in her place – you commented – But, about her role as the Queen of the Seas... how exactly does it work? What are the signs of her presence here?

About this, Alyssa had some words, but they sounded as mysterious as all the rest.

– As far as I know, she shares the administrative matters with her husband, though he’s the one who has the final word in every question – a strange glimmer appeared in her eyes – But I’ve heard some stories that said that she is the real responsible for the maintenance of the palace’s structure, which includes its physical premises, the organization of the staff and their daily routine… and even us.

– What? – you frowned.

– About this, I have my doubts – your friend shrugged – But some say that most of the servants answer directly to her, and that even Proteus-sama fears her. Besides, there are rumors that she has already helped women and their children to leave her husband’s domain forever, as a way to favor the ones who have suffered and to maintain the order, given that the number of women would always vary like this.

– I see.

– Well, whether these stories are true or not, Amphitrite-sama is the Queen of this place, and we should be careful if we ever have to deal with her.

***

During the period that preceded your wedding, you received all your meals inside the lodge by the same hours everyday: since you still haven’t been touched by Poseidon neither you were given the pair of earrings that identified his wives, you still haven’t the right to join the other women in the great hall for breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Alyssa had the said right, but due to the aching that her swollen feet provoked in case she insisted on the long walk to the hall, as well as to make you company, she preferred to eat in the room, where you had a small table prepared for this.

However, now that you were married and were free from physical restrictions, you no longer had reasons to keep yourself separated from the others, so right in the day after you were sent back, a servant came to lead you to have your first lunch in the hall.

Even though you were expecting for this, your heart jumped inside your chest with the perspective of entering a large place full of people who you didn’t know and who weren’t exactly receptive to your kind. You thought of asking your friend to come with you, but didn’t have the courage to do so: you would have to learn to survive there sooner or later, without bringing discomfort to anyone. But, without you expecting it, she offered herself to accompany you.

The servant raised an eyebrow at her.

– Are you really in conditions of walking to the great hall?

– I am – Alyssa replied with all the confidence – Besides, this is an important moment for my friend, and I want to be there with her.

The servant looked from her to you, then back to her, but didn’t argue. They asked both of you to follow them and closed the room’s door as you walked out of it.

***

The servant pushed the pair of golden doors before you with little effort, but they obeyed immediately, revealing the great hall in its full glory.

Just like you imagined, it was similar to other places you’ve been at, in a sense that it carried cleanliness, organization and luxury as its pillars, making it as beautiful as those other premises, with walls decorated with marine concepts, columns of white marble, large tables of noble woods and objects coated in gold – and it was as full as the center of a human city in a market day.

To anywhere you looked, you saw a mixture of colors, shapes and sounds created by priestesses of the Northern Waters, selkies, naiads and other kinds of nymphs, mermaids who were able to change their scales and walk with legs, and many other women from different regions of the known worlds, all of them wearing pearls like yours. Some would proudly exhibit the jewels as if they were the meaning of their lives, but others seemed to have forgotten about their presence on their bodies, just like the pearls became part of them; in fact, some didn’t wear them as proper earrings: there were girls who you guessed to be from the depths of the seas, having delicate, translucent fins instead of ears, and the pearls were pierced on their upper sides; others didn’t have visible auricular organs at all, so the pearls were on their heads, necks and, in some cases, on each side of their hairless faces, where their eyebrows would be.

The majority of the women, which bodies were of humanoid shapes, had their pregnancies evident, with rounded bellies covered in loosen dresses, like to the one you were wearing right now, but others seemed to be just like you, with no protuberance to indicate the presence of a child inside them; and there were some who, despite resembling the human form, were carrying baskets on the fold of their arms in order to transport eggs, and those eggs were from different numbers and appearances. You didn’t see children at that place, and this corroborated with what Alyssa told about them being taken from their mothers after the period of essential activities between them, such as breastfeeding.

Indeed, the scene was strange and beautiful, so much that if you didn’t know what kind of place you were at, you could be led to believe that you were in a kingdom of women.

As you walked through the main corridor, having the long tables at both sides, you recognized some of the girls who traveled with you, but most of them you were seeing for the first time. From their part, the reactions were similar to what you saw when you entered the carriage: at each step you took, the looks of curiosity, suspicion, disdain and explicit discontentment for the presence of, not only one, but two human beings in that sacred house burned your skin and made your heart beat faster.

You glanced at Alyssa and noticed her nervousness.

– Are you alright? – you whispered.

– Yes – she mumbled back, with her hands on her belly – It’s just that I’m no longer used to the distance between our room and this place.

– I see – you looked ahead, and spotted the space where you were supposed to take your food – Let’s get something for us and find a calmer spot to sit at.

You stopped in front of the large pans and the mixed scent of spices, seeds and meat invaded your nostrils alongside the steam. Everything seemed tasty, though you could barely recognize the foods. Unlike the things offered to you at the lodge – everything specially selected for your species – the foods were all mixed there, so Alyssa instructed you while you filled your plate, indicating what would be accepted by your body and what you were better stay away from. In the end, you managed to get a good combination of exotic seafood and typical spices from Midgard, and went to one of the tables.

***

The meal was excellent, and you were content for finding a good spot to sit despite the crowd around you. In order to not gather unwanted attention (at least not more than you already received), you avoided talking while you were there, unless it was strictly necessary. You were careful not to make a mess, and cleaned after ourselves before leaving the table.

To be honest, the hall wasn’t as noisy as you expected: it was more like a party were only the rich attended, with a display of good manners, elegance and the sound of soft voices spreading across the air. You never enjoyed being at that type of event while you lived with your father, but you knew how to behave, using your ears more than your eyes, pretending to be absorbed in your current task and only looking around a few times to make sure you became part of the landscape.

Still, a human who has entered the hall for the first time couldn’t be as invisible as she wished, and you noticed the occasional looks from the people near you. There was a woman in special, who were sitting on the opposite side of your table, three seats away from Alyssa, who wouldn’t take her eyes off you, even when you stared her back; she resembled a human girl in everything, from her brown, wavy hair to her olive skin, the only exception being the aspect of her eyes, bigger, in the slight shape of almonds, with their outer corners turned up. Alyssa noticed her looks and, moving her lips without letting her voice out, she identified her one word.

Selkie.

You’ve never seen an individual from that people before, but you’ve heard stories about some who has been living among humans since the old times; the relations between the two species were never easy, so that you wouldn’t be surprised if that one tried to bring this old feud to the depths of the sea. You already decided to ask about her later, but soon this precaution became unnecessary, for when you stood up and prepared to leave, the sounds of the room were supplanted by a clear, real voice.

– Another human being among us in so little time? Interesting. It seems that our beloved husband is planning to bring change to the family. For reasons only known by himself.

Your eyes turned automatically to the selkie’s direction, and you saw she was already looking at you, now on her feet. You noticed her swollen belly under a tunic of an opaque fabric that resembled a seal skin. The table was silent as the other women stared at you, some unsettled by those words, others eager to hear your reply.

Alyssa grabbed her plate and was going to walk around the table to reach your side, but you saw the look in her eyes, a quiet plead for you to not listen to the provocations, but you were just tired of that and decided to ignore the advice.

– If you’re going to say that I don’t belong to this kingdom and I have no right to be here – you took your plate from the table – Save your words, because I myself agree with you.

The selkie frowned: whatever she wanted to hear from you, it wasn’t those words.

– What?

You sighed.

– Do you really think one would choose to live in a place where their people are not welcome? – you looked around – Would someone here do something like that?

The woman bit her lip, but kept her composure.

– Whether you chose to come here or not, it’s good that you’re aware of this. You must be a careful girl.

You shrugged.

– Most of the times.

Alyssa, who finally stopped by your side, intervened.

– We’re not seeking for trouble, Melian – she spoke to the selkie – There’s no need for this conversation to carry on.

The other displayed a smile full of sharp, small teeth at your friend, but there was no sign of sympathy on her gaze.

– Why not? We’re having so much fun with it!

You spoke to bring her attention back to you.

– So, is there something you want to ask, or am I allow to leave? – you glanced at Alyssa – I need to take her back to her room.

Melian raised an eyebrow, as if thinking of a new provocation. But, as it uses to happen with people who are used to such things, she didn’t need much time to find one.

– You’re so worried about your human friend, but what about yourself? – and, inclining her head to the side in fake worry, – Don’t you need special care too?

– What?

– Oh, you’re pregnant, aren’t you? – Melian pointed at your ears – I can see you’ve already been with him, but were you able to do your part, or are you just like her, who needed a second trial to do the only thing she’s supposed to be good at?

Alyssa lowered her eyes, but said anything. You gritted your teeth: you could stand people talking at your back and despising you, but doing this with a friend was a different story.

You decided to speak out the truth and see what was going to happen.

– No, I’m not carrying a child and, heaven forbid, I will never do it!

A wave of shocked whispers spread among the girls.

“Is she unable to conceive?”

“Poseidon-sama didn’t touch her? Why did he bring her here, then?”

“Maybe he did touch her, but she didn’t get pregnant!”

“What if she refused to give him children? Can you imagine that?”

“Nonsense! Saying no to a god, and your husband? She could never...”

“If this was the case, she would certainly be punished, but she’s here, safe and sound!”

– Don’t listen to them – Alyssa whispered – They have nothing to do with this.

Melian, whose surprise hasn’t been completely hidden, still had some words for you.

– Is this some sort of punishment he gave you, or are you cursed? Why do you speak of your condition in such a cheerful manner?

– Because, to me, it’s a reason to cheer at – the firmness of your words silenced the whispers and made her swallow – When I was taken to my wedding night, I pleaded to our husband, asking him not to give me children… and he listened to me. I am able to conceive, but I didn’t wish to, so I begged him and got my request answered.

The air was heavy with that revelation. How dare you – was the question in each of the faces turned to you.

– I don’t believe you – Melian spoke between her teeth – If you did something like this, you should be dead.

– Yet, here I am – you hit back – Alive and not pregnant. What are you going to do about it?

The selkie gasped. Alyssa held your arm, as if begging you to leave the hall.

It was when a calm contralto voice raised in the room, and everyone turned to its direction.

– Melian, won’t you stop pestering the girl just because she did the very thing you wanted to do, but had no courage to?

The voice belonged to a woman with blue skin and fins on each side of her head, who was sitting on the same side of the table as Melian and somehow looked older than the women around her. You noticed that she was the only one who hasn’t raised her head to see the argument, but it didn’t mean that she wasn’t paying attention. You found it curious that, despite not having a prominent belly, her chair was positioned at a certain distance from the table.

The selkie turned to her, with a gaze that carried more nervousness than exasperation.

– Suriah, don’t start with your...

– Don’t you know our husband detests these kind of behavior? – the woman, Suriah, interrupted, unaffected – Besides, meal times are supposed to be pleasing, not a source of distress.

Melian’s skin turned pale with those words, less because of fear of the older wife than because of a non disguised anger.

The woman sighed and finally looked at you.

– You’re not just an inexperienced wife, as far as I can see, human – she started – You also know little about dealing with gods, don’t you?

You swallowed. You remembered that Poseidon himself said something similar to you.

– You could say that.

Suriah laughed.

– It’s pretty obvious, judging by the fact that you didn’t just plead to him… – she raised the spot on her face where there would be an eyebrow if she had hair – You tried to negotiate with him, didn’t you?

You gasped. How did she know?

– This type of thing might work among your people, but with gods, specially with someone like Poseidon-sama, things are quite different – she explained – He might have conceded you the favor you wanted, but what he asked from you in return… I suppose it made you shiver.

You didn’t reply.

– You don’t need to be so shy about it – she assured you – There are others like you around here, and they know what it’s like to be in such position. Our husband indeed loves us, but he doesn’t get along with rebel women. In this sense, Melian is in a better place than you.

Melian, who was still in silence, lowered her eyes at those words.

You, from your part, wanted to leave that place and forget about this unsettling conversation at first, but your curiosity, as well as the fact that you needed to gather information, overcame this urge, and you stood there.

– Suriah, right? – she nodded positively at your question – You seem to have experience in matters with gods. Can you tell me more?

Suriah seemed satisfied with your request.

– Of course I can, and I’m going to make things easier for you to understand by telling my own story. When I first came here, I knew the basics about my future husband and the life that awaited me, yet I think that if I knew more, I would never get into this situation – she sighed – Just like you, I wasn’t willing to carry children, so I begged for his favor, he gave it to me… But with a price.

You sensed a tension spreading among the women when the word price reached their ears. Suriah ignored this and carried on with the story.

– There’s a certain game, very popular among the gods, which I won’t bother to describe to you. I should learn the rules in one week and play one time with a subordinate of Proteus-sama, who’s a master at it. The result would determine if my request would be answered: if I won, I wouldn’t be impregnated that year; otherwise, I would have a child for each mistake during the game… every year.

You gasped.

– Every year? – your voice trembled – How is this possible?

Suriah chuckled, not refusing an explanation.

– The physiology of my people is such that allows us to endure multiple pregnancies. If I make love once, I will have one child. If it happens more times, consecutively, I will have the equivalent number of children. This is precisely what I bargained with Poseidon-sama: no child, or the number of my mistakes. And I lost.

You swallowed, but found the courage to ask what you had in mind.

– And how many mistakes you made?

The woman revealed the reason why her chair was distant from the table: she had a basket with lilac eggs on her lap. An unsettling wave of whispers spread among the girls when she raised the basket, and Melian slowly sat down. You couldn’t take your eyes off the basket’s interior, but found yourself unable to count the eggs: you only knew that they were many.

Answering the question you didn’t make, Suriah spoke:

– There are fifteen eggs here – she looked at them with affection – Fifteen beautiful children waiting to be born. Just as there were fifteen of them last year, and there will be in the next one.

Chapter 7

[solarroseart]

Going to desperately attempt to not die of embarrassment before posting this.

The development journey for all my Sonic OCs. More below the cut.

Yeah as a. uh. under 10yo baby. I was not the most creative. Aaron was literally just blue tails until I wised up as a teen. I liked Tails, he was my favorite (still one of my favs) and so I wanted to Have Him. Please forgive my baby crimes.

Anyone who read the tags on the other post and was confused by Athena and Alyssa merging into one character- this is why. They both had. rainbows. I had a lot of characters with rainbows.

In fact, I also had a MLP character who ALSO had rainbows all over her. This character got reposted to one of those edgy "cringe MLP characters" blogs where the people who ran the blog criticized my using the default rainbow gradient. Tween me then went on to bury all of my rainbow characters, including Alyssa.

I also seemed to have misremembered where Ariel (not pictured) was placed in all of this, I think Ariel was actually a precursor to Alyssa, not Athena and Alyssa merging into one character. All the drawings of Ariel that I have stop after 2010 and I don't have any drawings of Alyssa prior to 2011. When that whole thing with the blog happened, I buried both Alyssa and Athena until reviving Athena in 2015 with just red roses this time and Alyssa later in 2019. In her full rainbow glory.

I decided to revive Alyssa because someone I was friends with waaaay back in the day on Deviantart, who loved her design and drew me a bunch of gift art, asked about what happened to her. I was so honored and frankly surprised that someone remembered her and loved her design that much. We fell out of touch again after that, but I am still really grateful to them for that.

Screw the guy who told me rainbows are cringe, you are cringe and I hope you stub your toe.

Anyways I revamped almost all of my characters in 2015, Including Aaron and Athena, though Aaron had turned into something that resembled his current color scheme in 2013. But I always liked the blue, so I wanted to keep some of it. Hence the definitely not an ATLA ripoff tattoo.

Aaron also used to be a fennec fox! Since 2013 he was, hence the ears. But IDW made that confusing and he's always been super tall, which didn't make sense for an absolutely tiny creature. So it wasn't until this year that he became a dingo!

Athena's had her unbloomed outfit for the longest, 2021 is at least the earliest instance I could find of her bloomed outfit but I'm pretty sure I had the idea swimming around in my head for a while prior. I'd have to check my physical sketchbooks to be sure (thankfully I started dating most of my sketches in 2015)

Then earlier this year I. Finally. Decided to give them all proper references. I love my guys, they have been with me a very long time and they are all special to me. I am really hoping to do more with them all soon.

Thanks for getting this far if you did, I hope it was entertaining and if not at least mildly intriguing!

[applbottmjeens]

HELP ME TO BREATHE.

title taken from duvet by bôa

(a/n: as of MARCH 2025 this fic has been rewritten)

tags: (semi canon compliant?? mentions of other ocs, angst, and heartbreak, old fiction, other ocs mentioned.)

summary: post Las Almas, Anna falls apart.

I am falling, I am fading, I am drowning

Help me to breathe

I am hurting, I have lost it all

I am losing

Help me to breathe

It was one thing to see red flags through rose tinted lenses. It was another thing to see the red flags, try to walk away, but end up looking past them anyway.

“I don’t love him.” She’d tell herself with her arms around his neck, lips on his after one of many arguments.

Anna’s disdain for the Commander began not long after they were introduced. Disdain turned to a truce for the sake of working together. The truce turned…into something else.

“I don’t love him.” She thought when he grabbed her hand to stop her from leaving him alone the morning after, gently pulled into his arms.

“I don’t love him.” She assured the 141 when they saw how he looked at the young sergeant after exchanging quips at each other in passing.

She repeated this lie to herself hundreds of times to herself after the events of November 3rd. Her silence is deafening - mind spinning as the team plots their retaliation against Shepard- against him. Logic tells her it’s the only way to stop him. That killing him would turn the tides in their favor.

But her heart. Oh, her heart screams, and she is thankful that they decide not to involve her in the fight. She watches them march out in the skull masks, and when the others return to base alive, she’s relieved and overjoyed to see them safe.

Then they witness the relief crumble into the stinging realization: They killed him.

They killed Phillip. They killed her Phillip.

Sparrow holds her close as she cries into her arms. They know this sound- grief, pure pain as she trembles.

It’s crawling up her chest, making refuge in her throat. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.

He’d fooled her, tried to kill her friends, hurt so many people-

Why did it still hurt?

Why did she still miss him?

“Annie.” His voice is so clear in her mind. It’s an outrage she’d never hear him say it again.

It’s on the flight to Illinois that Anna finally speaks about it. Aly hands her a bottle of water, having cried out enough that day.

“I loved him.” She admits aloud, voice strained and quiet. “I think I still do.”

These words don’t seem to surprise Alyssa, who sits across from her and sighs.

“I know, honey.” She speaks softly. “I know you did.” And he deserved none of it. Even if he didn’t betray them, he never would.

Sparrow sits next to her, the tissue box on her lap as the smaller Sergeant lays her head on her shoulder.

Annabelle glances down, but she doesn’t seem to have it in her to cry anymore. “I think..the hard part is…trying to figure out if…if he was just using me, or…” Her eyes squeeze shut as the memory resurfaces- his hands gingerly holding her face as she cried, gaze soft as he wiped her tears with his thumbs.

“Was anything you said true?” Her voice is so small.

“Baby…” He gazes down at her, something in his baby blue eyes she can’t decipher. “I’ll explain everything in due time-” She takes his hands off of her face. Her face paint had smudged considerably from her tears. “No. I need an answer , NOW!"

“I’ve got my orders, and now you have yours.” He speaks, and she steps back, hands shaking as Alejandro steps forward.

“And who the fuck do you think you are, cabron? My men are inside!” The Colonel exclaims in disbelief.

“I’m afraid not.” The air is so cold now.

“Your men have been…detained.”

The rest is a blur. She remembers Alejandro being restrained. She remembers him shooting at Soap- Samantha, aiming for Phillip's throat - being pushed to run despite her legs wanting nothing more than to collapse. Sparrow had taken out several guys at the gate before she screamed at everyone to scatter.

“Anna…we have to move!” Butterfly urges.

She glances at her reflection on the window of the plane, her sister in arms in her peripheral while she smiles sadly at her own foolishness. What a naive child her heart was..

"The worst part is...If he just said he was sorry - if he just told me he needed me, I would've gone to him in a heartbeat. If he said he was sorry, I would've forgiven him. I would've..." She laughs, pain in her eyes. “He’s..He really got me in the end.”

“I don’t love him.” Anna lies to herself, nothing holding her back from fighting now. “Not anymore.”

[hahagiggle]

Intro Post!! ⋆｡°✩

HII !! We're the Hamsterdance Collective :D You can call us Hamster, or address fronterz by name (which is wats preferred) IRL Scemo. 22 yearz old bodily. This is a WIP i'm kinda distracted rn!!

I have a SOULMATE @profoundlysick <3 <3 who is our syspart but I'm looking for more friends. It'd be nice to meet more ppl like us, maybe... gah. this is all so much tbh. I'm new to this, and being open about it.

Tragic Backstory

We are a DID system :P Im gonna be 100% transparent, we split due to being a victim of a school shooting incident in 2019 as well as repeated violence against us growing up and have TCC introjects as a result. It's been a source of a lot of shame and distress in our life but idkk. i think getting a space 4 them to actually express themselves might Help with internal communication, and to finally face and lessen the trauma. Sorry if that's uncomfortable for u!! Block if u dont want us interacting with ur posts. We're tryn to play nice, and will be on BEST behavior.

Fronters

Adam 🐹 [he/it/none] Adult. AKA. AL, hamster. I'd prefer not to be called by any of my old monikers unless we are close. Hello. I have mixed feelings about all of this. Though, I suppose there is little I don't have mixed feelings for.

Alyssa 🐺 [she/her] Ageweird. AKA. Al, Allie, wolf, wolfie. Adam and I are likely 2 be the most active on the tumblr!! I like scene and emo shit, Animal Jam (NOT giving out my username, perverts XD) and umm. IDK. XD do u want me to reference my old YouTube profile rofl I'm currently writing this intro post ALL by mah damn self cuz IM the responsible one around here LOL can't u deadbeats do anything -eyeroll-

Brenda 🐴 [she/her]

Seung-Hui 👽 [he/him] AKA. Cho.

Robert 🐶 [he/him] Adult. AKA. Robbie, dog, doggy, little bitch.

Thomas 🦅 [he/him] AKA. Tom, Tommy.

Other Tags

💞 RIDEORDIE - syspart tag!!!! Stuff we've saved for them or made by them :P

🏠 Headspace - pix that look like headspace :D for visualizing and comfort lols

All the excess notes will be moved to our individual posts when I/we wanna make that ("ᗒᗜᗕ)՛̵̖ - Alyssa

[novaursa]

hello !! do you think you can do a request where at the family dinner , aemond doesn’t do his speech but instead expresses his desire to marry reader who is rhaenyras oldest and only daughter ? and a little smut but nothing like too smutty please , if you can 💛 thank you in advance !

The Ties That Bind

Requests are closed!

- Summary: After Luke was named rightful heir to Driftmark by your grandsire, King Viserys I, during the feast, Aemond, makes a claim of his own.

- Pairing: niece!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Note: The reader is the oldest child and only daughter of Rhaenyra.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne

The hall is filled with the warm glow of countless candles and the hum of lively conversation, yet you feel the tension woven beneath it all. It has been a long, arduous day. Vaemond Velaryon’s blood still stains the floor of the throne room, though servants scrubbed at it tirelessly. Your mother, Rhaenyra, sits at the high table next to your grandsire, King Viserys, her face a mask of calm, though you know well that her heart is heavy with the strain of politics, the weight of family expectations, and the ever-present danger to her children.

You sit beside her, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, surrounded by your younger brothers. Luke, who has just been named heir to Driftmark, smiles hesitantly at you, as though seeking reassurance. Jace offers him a comforting smile, but you know well enough that the blow of Vaemond’s death still lingers in their minds. Across the table, Alicent Hightower’s gaze flits between her children and your family, her brow furrowing as if anticipating what will come next.

Aemond sits at the far end of the table, quiet, yet his presence is like a storm gathering on the horizon. He catches your eye now and then, though you look away, pretending to focus on the feast laid out before you. You’ve known him since childhood, grown alongside him in the shadow of the Red Keep, but something has changed in the last few years. He’s no longer the boy you remembered—he’s a man now, hardened, sharp, and dangerous.

You can feel his gaze, heavy on you, even as he lifts his cup to his lips, the sharp planes of his face cast in shadow by the flickering candlelight. The toasts are made, starting with the King, who, despite his frailty, speaks with a warmth and hopefulness that rings hollow in the tension-laden room.

“Let us be one house,” Viserys says, raising his goblet with a trembling hand. “Let us honor our blood, our traditions. For the good of the realm.”

The silence that follows his words is filled with unspoken promises and buried grudges. You swallow down the bitter taste of wine, wishing for the feast to end, for the night to be over. But just as you think you can retreat into your own thoughts, Aemond stands.

All eyes turn to him.

There’s a palpable shift in the room. You feel it in your bones as you watch him, tall and imposing, his one good eye gleaming in the firelight. He raises his cup, and for a moment, you think he will speak words meant to inflame, to goad your brothers like he did once before. But his gaze does not shift to Jace or Luke. Instead, it lingers on you.

“I have a few words of my own,” Aemond begins, his voice smooth yet commanding, cutting through the murmur of the hall. The silence that falls is heavy. “My family, my kin,” he pauses, glancing around the room, “I wish to honor my blood tonight. And in doing so, I wish to speak of marriage.”

A murmur ripples through the guests, uncertain and shocked. Your heart pounds in your chest, faster with every breath as his words sink in. He cannot mean…

“I speak not of mere alliances for political gain,” Aemond continues, and his gaze finally locks with yours. “I speak of love.”

The entire hall seems to still. Your mother stiffens beside you, and you feel the weight of her hand on your arm. Alicent watches her son with narrowed eyes, while Helaena seems to shrink into her chair, confused. Daemon, seated across from you, raises a brow in interest, though he does not seem surprised.

“I have long admired you, niece,” Aemond says, and there is an intensity in his voice now, an edge that makes your heart skip a beat. “You are the embodiment of Targaryen blood—strong, proud, unyielding. It is my wish to wed you, to unite our houses in the truest sense.”

The breath catches in your throat. The words hang in the air like a blade, cutting through the festering tension. You glance at your mother, who looks torn between fury and shock. Her gaze is steel, but beneath it, you can sense her worry. This is not what anyone expected.

For a moment, the world seems to tilt. You, a daughter of Rhaenyra, the rightful queen, proposed to by Aemond, the man who once took Vhagar and burned with resentment for your family.

King Viserys coughs, breaking the silence, and forces a smile. “An admirable proposal, Aemond. It... it seems fitting.” His words are strained, as though unsure whether to accept or reject the offer.

Your own voice is caught in your throat, uncertain of what to say. The looks on your brothers’ faces tell you all you need to know—they hate the idea, but they can do nothing but seethe in silence. The politics of the realm are far more dangerous than personal feelings.

Later, when the feast has ended, you find yourself walking alone in the gardens outside the castle, seeking the solace of the night air. The moon is full, casting everything in silver. The tension of the hall still buzzes in your mind, and you wonder what your life would be like if you accepted Aemond’s proposal.

The sound of footsteps approaches, and you turn to see him, his pale hair catching the moonlight like spun silk. Aemond’s face is unreadable, but there’s something in his gaze, something raw and yearning.

“You left without saying a word,” he says softly, his voice far gentler than it had been during his speech.

“I needed time to think,” you reply, your heart beating faster as he steps closer.

He studies you, his eye trailing over your face, as though he’s memorizing every detail. “Do you hate me for it?” he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You shake your head, though you don’t know if you’re lying to him or to yourself. “I don’t know what to think.”

His hand reaches for yours, and though you should pull away, you don’t. His touch is warm, steady, despite the cold night. “I meant every word I said, Y/N.”

“I’m not a prize to be claimed,” you say, but there’s no venom in your words.

“I don’t see you as such,” Aemond replies, his voice soft and sincere. “I see you as my equal. My match in every way.”

The silence between you stretches, filled with the unspoken tension that has existed for years. And before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you. Your lips meet his, hesitant at first, but then the dam breaks. There’s no more uncertainty, no more doubt. The kiss deepens, and Aemond pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

When you part, the air between you is charged, and before you know it, you’re leading him to your chambers, your steps quick and urgent. Inside, the room is dimly lit, the fire casting long shadows. The moment the door closes behind you, Aemond is upon you, his lips crashing against yours, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that matches your own.

The rest of the world fades away as you pull him closer, your hands tangled in his silver hair. His touch is all-consuming, his mouth claiming yours in a way that leaves you dizzy. When you fall into the bed together, there’s nothing left but the sound of your breathing, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your lips.

He moves over you, his touch both gentle and fierce, as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. And when he finally enters you, it’s with a tenderness you hadn’t expected. The world shatters and rebuilds itself around the two of you, your bodies moving in sync, as though this was inevitable, as though this was always meant to be.

When it’s over, you lie together in the dim light, his arms wrapped around you, your head resting against his chest. The weight of what’s happened lingers between you, but there’s no regret. Not now.

[vividaway]

mini analysis on the finale

yall im not even gonna lie..........i liked the season 5 finale. the concept that these are teenagers who have been beaten and worn down to a crisp to the point of multiple mental breakdowns from both marinette and adrien.........like of course marinette didn’t tell adrien. she’s a literal child, and she loves him, and honestly? its really not her PLACE to tell him. emilie knows about gabriels involvement with the miraculous. nathalie knows about EVERYTHING. there are multiple ADULTS who can step in and talk to him about this, and they chose not to. multiple people have said it: of COURSE adrien deserve to know, and i will be very upset if they never write in him finding out. but it also seems excessively cruel to do that to adrien. as far as adrien is aware, his dad was trying. he thinks his dad is a man chiseled away by depression and grief, who turned towards his works to cope with the loss. he believes there was a turning point where his father started to try. he allowed him to go to school, to make new friends and go to their house, allowed him to quit, started to show up to school events, and finally started to show him affection. adrien is none the wiser on WHY, and it feels extremely cruel to take away what little happy moments he had left with his father. what is the bare minimum to us, is literally EVERYTHING to adrien, and to me, that does mean something. to me, seeing gabriel sacrifice himself for adrien and his wife-- means EVERYTHING. it is what differentiates an evil, unrecoverable person, from a dynamic character who was never meant to be a good person. we were never meant to like gabriel. he’s the villain! but that doesn’t mean we aren’t supposed to be sympathetic to certain aspects of his journey.  i really do think his character was written well. gabriel is a bad, unredeemable man, who did one good action. i personally can’t look at gabriel from season one and say, “he shouldve sacrificed his life in place of his wives life sooner”, it feels wrong. gabriel from season 1 was EXTREMELY different from gabriel from season 5. we see him change (for the worse) over the course of five seasons. 

and the thing about how gabriel is written is like, its realistic. gabriel isnt just a cartoon villain from some kids show, he show’s patterns of real life villains as well. the manipulation, the lying, the guilt tripping, the abuse-- all of it. and thats why, i understand why some people are pissed he got redeemed. but for me, i see the build up. lila has the photographs from gabriels house, and she knews he was monarch. on top of this, it seems like she’s the successor to the butterfly miraculous. people know what he did, and its not just the people on the good side. i don’t see gabriel staying a sympathetic figure for much longer. but all this being said, i dont think it was the worst. the pacing was great, and the animation was top tier for me. theres so many episodes where i can predict whats going to happen next, but i couldn’t with this one. some thing about it just felt....special. like if you showed alyssa from 2016 the finale, i could literally die. no need to show a peasant child, just showing Season One Era fans what happened and how it looks and we’d just. die. everything about it 10x better than we couldve imagined. the writing, the animation, the pacing, the score, the dialogue, the way the world has expanded and been built up and how often we’re interacting with “background characters”.  for once, it felt like i was watching a real show, with a plot that made sense, and wasnt a dumpster fire. but...from reading the #MLBS5Spoilers tag....yall do NOT agree with my sentiments! and thats okay! 

[areseebee]

13 books

tagged by @private-bryan, which is the best because i love talking books!

1. The last book I read:

little rabbit by alyssa songsiridej. this was an interesting one. i didn't take to it the way some people did but i enjoyed myself. though tbh i'd just read bad behavior by mary gaitskill right before it which casts the kind of relationships similar to the one depicted in little rabbit in a bit of a different light so that may have influenced my perspective.

2. A book I recommend:

for my writer friends, bird by bird: some instructions on writing and life by anne lamott.

3. A book that I couldn't put down:

i tore through tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by gabrielle zevin and cried at all the parts i was supposed to cry at. but i read it as part of a book club with my two oldest friends and they were pretty skeptical of the whole thing so your mileage may vary on this one.

4. A book I've read twice (or more):

i'm choosing two: call me by your name by andre aciman (this could also have been my book i recommend) and my all-time re-read, a room with a view by e.m. forster. i have revisited it at several different points in my life and always glean something new from it.

5. A book on my TBR:

learning to talk by hilary mantel

6. A book I've put down:

the idiot by elif batuman. i think it just wasn't the right time for me to read it when i last picked it up, but i could barely get through the first 10 pages which bummed me out. elif batuman is a big reason why i decided to study comparative literature and her book of short stories/essays, the possessed: adventures with russian books and the people who read them, was pretty formative for teenage me.

7. A book on my wish list:

i covet all taschen books because they're beautiful, but the one i've currently got my eye on is a garden eden. masterpieces of botanical illustration by h. walter lack because i love botanical illustration and because i want to display it in my home.

8. A favorite book from childhood:

basically anything robin mckinley published before 2005. rose daughter and her damar series were an especially big presence in my young reading life.

9. A book you would give to a friend?

in addition to recommending it, i would also give bird by bird by anne lamott to my writer friends.

10. There is no 10!

11. A nonfiction book you own?

the color of money: black banks and the racial wealth gap by mehrsa baradaran. excellent, excellent book on the history of financial disenfranchisement of black americans.

12. What are you currently reading?

i want to die but i want to eat tteokbokki by baek sehee, trans. anton hur

13. What are you planning on reading next?

probably the final girl support group by grady hendrix!

tagging @strideofpride

[chambuns]

Tag thingy

Tagged by @tobiiios !! Man I’m sorry you always tag me in this stuff and i always forget sO I FIGURED ID DO ONE

Nickname: My name isn’t very good for nicknames?? I had Kanra as an online name for ages but sometimes I get random ones like Kiki and Cucumbers from @bang-kkumchi

Star signs: I’m a Taurus!! Tho I’m p sure im a gemini in both the rising and moon signs which is wild gfchvjh

What I’m wearing right now: PJ’s ofc im a lazy binch

Favourite quote: gcfhjh i got a lot?? idk man I got too many to pick one 

Favourite food: hmmm... I love spicy food (especially Thai Green Curry) and have a big sweet tooth!! Also seafood is amazing!!

Favourite movie: I’m not a big movie person?? which is sad,,,, i dont have a big fave movie sadly... I like Lilo and Stitch?? How to train your dragon??? 

Favourite song: uhhh,, man i got a lot honestly,, I really love NSP’s cover of Africa?? Also any Bang Dream song atm... and Honeymoon by B.A.P

Favourite books: hmmm... If manga counts I’m really into Go-toubun no Hanayome (Quintessential Quintuplets) atm!! 

Language: I’m a basic binch english only speaker sadly,, I did French for like 3 years and Japanese when i was little but,,,, i wasnt good at either oops

What I hate: You know when you try to reheat hot chips??? or basically any hot potato meal?? and they always taste really awful?? yeah i really hate that  

Random fact: about me,,,,?? uHHHH man im not really that interesting,,,, My voice can get kinda loud by accident because my hearing is weird and i cant tell the volume of my voice?? so when i get excited I talk loud by accident!! Which is ironic cause im not a fan of loud noises

Describe aesthetic: A mess of a fluffy pastel aesthetic honestly 

Other blogs: I don’t usually have lots of sideblogs?? i just have my main thats one big mESS tho I have @lemon-dropss as a joint art blog on the side

Hogwarts house: Gryffindor?? Which is really wild to me because I think im a bit of a coward but i aLWAYS GET IT IN THE QUIZ SO IRONIC I GUESS 

Patronus: I dont, remember,,, I’m p sure it was a kinda bird??

Favourite characters: Izaya Orihara, this piECE OF SHIT IS MY FAVE CHARACTER I DFXGCHVJ also!! Shizuo Heiwajima, Aya Maruyama, Zero Two, Nino Nakano, Hina Hikawa, Yuu Koito, Mob and Reigen Arataka

tagging: dfgchvjbk idk man i dont know enough people just do it if you wanna!!

[frankcastleonlyfans]

Dad!Daemon is perfect!!! (mostly dad of a girl) that being said, I was wondering if you could write about baby! Alyssa taking her first steps towards him, please?

hii nonnie!! i love writing this little domestic moments with daemon, and here's how i thought alyssa's first steps went (i wrote it based on your other ask, i really hope you like it 💓);

Daemon Targaryen thought he knew love. Of course he loved you and his son Rhaegon, with his entire self, but when his first daughter was born, he came upon a whole different meaning for that word. In that little baby girl, he discovered unconditional love.

The connection Daemon and Alyssa shared was unpredictable. He named her after his mother, one of the only three women that he truly loved in his life — the other two being you, and now your daughter. She was daddy's little girl, and it was undeniable how much his heart melted for her. His grumpy facade easily vanished once his little stormfire was in his arms.

You had been visiting Dragonstone with your husband, and the children enjoyed the place as much as he did. Daemon would run around playing with Rhaegon and Rhaenyra's sons, and you loved to watch these special moments where your husband wasn't frustrated about political stuff, but enjoying life with his family.

Since you left King's Landing, you've been trying to teach your little one and a half year old daughter to walk. Alyssa had started saying a few words like "mama", "dada", "dragon" and "Caraxes", but most of the time you couldn't understand her baby accent. And just like she was curious about the words, babbling all the time, she was also trying to get on her feet constantly, but always ended up falling on her butt and crying.

Daemon would pick her up to his arms and kiss her tears until she stopped sobbing. He liked to talk to her in high valyrian, even though she had no idea what he was saying. It would take her attention for a few minutes and she'd be quiet just to listen to her father's voice.

"Daor ry zaldrīzoti emagon tīkuni, yn ry zaldrīzoti issi vēttan hen perzys. Īlon issi zaldrīzoti. Ao issi issa byka zaldrīzes." Daemon whispered as he kissed her temples and tickled her belly. (Not all dragons have wings, but all dragons are made of fire. We are dragons. You are my little dragon.)

"Zaldrīzes" Alyssa would repeat between giggles.

After many tries, eventually Alyssa finally got it. She stood on her little feet and looked around the place and searched for her parents. You and Daemon were a few meters away from her, playing tag with the boys. Alyssa thought about walking to you, but she was too afraid of falling without your help. She held on a chair to keep herself balanced and waited for you to look at her.

Unfortunately, for the little girl's patience, you were too busy chasing around the kids. Alyssa yelped loudly, and you finally turned your attention to her. You gasped watching her silver hair glow in sunlight, as she standed a few feet away from where you were.

"Mama!" She shouted.

"Alyssa!" You ran towards her and held her little hand helping her to stay on her feet. She took courage from your touch and gave one step, "Oh, Gods! Daemon! Daemon, come see this!"

Daemon chased after Rhaegon, that approached you. They both stopped.

"Dad, I think Alyssa is walking" The little Targaryen boy observed, getting closer to you.

Daemon's steps became slow, and he fell onto his knees discredited. His smile grew wide once the girl gave two more steps, giggling to the sight of her father.

"Dada!" Alyssa said excitedly.

You walked beside her, until you thought it was safe enough to let her go and try get to him by herself. Daemon encouraged her;

"Yes, 'Lyssa come to daddy. You're doing great, baby. Don't look at the ground, look at daddy." He'd say grinning widely.

She took a few more steps and reached his arms, almost falling on the ground from her own excitement from being close to her father. Daemon grabbed her by the waist and took her to his chest. He kissed her little face many times while spinning her body.

"You did it! My little stormfire is walking!" He kissed her chubby cheeks, while you watched with proud in your eyes, "My brave girl."

[apotatomashedbybts]

Kissing In The Moonlight

➛Pairing: Jeon Jungkook × f!reader

➛Genre: angst; smut; fluff

➛Trope/au: Friends to potential lovers; one night stand

➛Word Count: 5.1k+

➛Trigger warnings:

➥general warning: alcohol consumption, anxiety, longing, mentions of drinking as a coping mechanism, lots of tears, yn is obsessed with JK, Jungkook is a tease

➥smut warning: semi-drunk consensual sex, lots of kissing, hickey, breast play, clit rubbing, fingering, oral (f!receiving), penetration, big dick!JK, missionary position, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (remember, with great power comes great responsibility), creampie, aftercare

➛Rating: 18+

➛Banner: made by apotatomashedbybts

➛Cross post: ao3 | Wattpad

➛Beta-reader: the absolute sweetheart Nixie @highly-functioning-mitochondria 💜💜💜

➛Disclaimer: This story was originally posted 3 years ago on July 17. This is a revamped version of the existing one.

➛Tagging: the person without whom this fic wouldn't exist in the first place, my absolutely wonderful sis Jinny @euphorianyx , and my awesome friends who cheered me on and supported me while I doubted myself - Freya @sugarwithtea , Jiya @btsstan12 and Sana @sweetieguk

And a part of my heart, my precious Hani @kuuipobangtan ! Welcome back! (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)

➛Author's note: This was my first ever smut that I wrote all those years ago. I wasn't quite satisfied with it but I didn't have that much skills either. But I hope this time I sucked less and did it some justice! I hope you enjoy this little piece on Koo's birthday (Happy Birthday, baby).

Please leave likes, reblogs (it helps a lot with the fic reaching more people) and give me feedback (this motivates me to write a lot and makes me a happy potato)

Summary: He was everything you ever wanted. He was everything you lost. But as luck would have it you meet again and all you have is one night with him... or may be forever.

The booming rhythmic sound of the party music echoing throughout this specially rented part of the club wasn't helping at all. To top it off, it was your favourite song that was playing at the moment which had always managed to make your feet make love to the floor.

But today wasn't one of those days; tonight your feet refused to move even an inch. You were too anxious to even breath. 

When you got the invitation to this extravagant bachelorette party that your not-so-friendly friend threw, you were only a second away from turning it down. You were never close enough to her to get invited to her parties. It was pretty obvious that she did this to rub the fact on your face that you were going to die single, alone and pining. So to decline it was your best option until it wasn't. Life had always liked to throw lemons at you and you had always been successful in catching and tasting them - yes, life was sour. 

Your best friend, Alyssa, was going to move to Bolivia permanently after the results of the final year were out. And hence, she wanted to enjoy the remaining of her days in Seoul as much as she could. So she begged you repeatedly until you gave in and agreed to attend. 

But as soon as you arrived, she abandoned you gladly with a not-so-apologetic smile and an indicative smirk when a seemingly handsome guy approached her. 

Now, left alone in the midst of strangers, you slowly fiddled with the half full glass of margarita in your hand  while waiting for Lys to return. With small sighs you took even smaller sips and looked over at the group of friends doing a shots challenge. You wanted to take shots too but restrained yourself because you wanted to avoid getting drunk so that you could leave as soon as Lys returned and reach home safely. 

You saw Lys emerge from the crowd just after half an hour, making her way towards you. You let out a relieved sigh and taunted, "Seems like his magic wore out quickly." 

"Shush! That smile will be gone once I tell you what I just saw!" Her tensed demeanor caught your eyes now so you threw her a concerned and curious look to which she immediately replied, "Jungkook is here!" 

Your steps faltered but before you could grab Lys and decide what to do that guy from before came and started dragging Lys away. You didn't want to hold her back because of your shortcomings so when she looked at you with concern you somehow mumbled, "I'll be okay. Don't worry. I'll just be outside somewhere. Call me when you are done." 

Lys knew you. She knew you were lying about being okay. So she hastily told you, "I'll be back in five minutes, alright? Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back and we'll go home together." 

After Lys was gone you turned around and finished the glass in one gulp. Lys was right. You weren't okay. Hearing the name after so long made your body go weak and a wrecking anxiousness took over you. You didn't know where to look at as your heart began thumping at a mad speed. You kept your palms on your eyes and were surprised to feel the wetness on them. "Why am I crying? I need to calm down and get the fuck out of here before I come across him." 

As you kept your head down in a futile attempt to calm yourself, all the memories started to swarm in along with the name. 

Jeon Jungkook... The name itself sent shivers down your spine. How many years had it been? Exactly three years six months and twelve days. Weird, wasn't it? How you kept track of time even though you wanted to forget it all. How you remembered all about the boy who instantly became the high school sweetheart as soon as he set his foot there, how you instantly fell for him too, how he became your biggest crush, your hidden desire, your guilty pleasure; unforgettable memories that you had always desperately tried to forget. 

Because it was him, his eyes, his smile, his everything that had stopped you from moving on. Those starry eyes and broad smile that had kept you wide awake for countless nights during that time still haunted you. 

You knew that he was never going to be yours. You always saw him as a person who was way out of your league. So what if he used to smile often at you, so what if he had once said you looked beautiful in that prom dress. 

So what... if you shared a dance with him at that prom for the longest yet shortest minute before switching partners - those were just his kindness, that only made the hole inside your heart deeper. And him? Out of your reach. So out of your reach that even after his lingering eyes on you during the dance tormented you, and you could still feel the warmth of his body after he left, you couldn't ask him for another dance that night. 

Confessing to him was like a far fetched dream - you feared of things getting awkward between you two. No matter how much you were obsessed with him, you couldn't read him. You were afraid of losing the only privilege that you got from him - his smile. So you had decided to keep it shut along with your feelings. 

And you were fine with what you had until he abruptly transferred in the middle of the third year of high school. 

The disappearance had left you with a scar that made you hollow from inside. The unbearable crush that he left within you for him ate you slowly and you had regretted loving him the way you did every second ever since. 

The tireless attempts to erase the ocean of feelings that you had hold for him for the past three years had just went in vain. The blind dates that never worked out, the one too many one night stands just made you more miserable as your soul wanted only him. 

You often wondered if you could read him even a little bit, would you have been able to make the slightest place for yourself in his heart. 

You sighed, "Jungkook is here... My Jungkook.." You shook your head as the last part slipped in your thoughts. 

"I can't do this. I can't let myself meet him tonight, in no way. I can't fall in love once again.. I can't...!" You tried to calm yourself down while wiping away the droplets formed at the corner of your eyes and impatiently waited for Lys to return. 

With a small scoff you asked your inner self, "Fall in love once again? What are you talking about? Have you ever even fallen out of love?" No, of course not. 

"Y/n?" 

You were blankly staring at your empty glass when a very familiar voice called you. You snapped out of your thoughts and cursed under your breath, "Fuck! This can't be happening.." 

You were chewing over how you should react while fighting your terribly thumping heart when the voice called out again, "Hey! I know you are Y/n! I'll be so hurt if you say that you don't remember me! I am Jungkook! Remember?" 

You took an eternity to turn around and smiled at him in a constipated way. Your mind was a blur because you wanted it to be and thought that it was dream - a cruel yet beautiful dream. He was smiling at you, the same smile that was engraved in your memory so deeply and you were screwed, that wasn't a surprise anymore, but yes, your emotions were fucked up once again. 

"Hey! Long time Jungkook! How have you been?" You digged out the words from your mouth and signalled the bartender for a shot as you felt your throat go dry. 

"One for the gentleman too, please!" You said before pouring down the shot down your throat at once. 

"Woah woah woah! Slow down y/n. You will burn your throat!" Jungkook looked at you alarmed. 

You slightly shook your head in denial and murmured, "It's to calm me down." 

Jungkook didn't know what to reply to that so he gulped down the shot offered to him and went quite. A few minutes passed, and a couple other shots were imbibed and none of you spoke a word; the only interaction being the awkward smiles you displayed at each other occasionally. 

The silence seemed to make Jungkook a little uncomfortable and he said, trying to sound as much as casual as he could, "It's suffocating in here, isn't it? Wanna go outside for some fresh air?" 

You instantly agreed and smiled at him, more naturally this time. 

The cool breeze outside swam around you two and you felt your nerves untangle from its previous knotted state little by little. 

The road was deserted and the light of the full moon shone over the surrounding area around you two making it surrealistic. You could hear the clear fast rhythm that your heart was playing. 

May be it was the alcohol running in your system or the overwhelming emotions that took over you after having him so near you after so long that you couldn't help but stare at him. Somehow he managed to look more beautiful than you remembered. 

The liquid perhaps made him feel warmer from inside as it did to you and he took off his jacket and wrapped the hands of it around his neck. You continued to look at him, rather shamelessly, and even when he looked at you questioningly and locked the stare, you didn't flinch for once. 

His face was adorned with piercings that suited him perfectly even though you had never imagined him in one. His right arm was covered in colored tattoos which started on his fingers and disappeared somewhere inside his t-shirt sleeves. This Jungkook, in some way, poured new feelings on your existing ones. You thought he was hot. So hot that made your core burn. So hot that made you a little bit braver and you held his hand - a perfect fit. And you pulled him in for a kiss. 

The alley by the road was dark and damp but that didn't stop you from running hands on all over each others body and kissing greedily. After a few minutes, Jungkook gasped for breath and whispered breathlessly, "Wanna get somewhere more comfortable?" 

Closing the door of the motel room Jungkook turned you around and pinned you against the door frame. Your lips met again and you drowned yourself in his taste. His initial taste of the tequila gradually wore away leaving a natural sweetness. 

You moved your hands hastily and took off his shirt and paused before slowly moving your fingers over the smooth skin of his firm chest, eyes arrested on the same. 

With a sweet smirk he held your hand and turned you around so that your back was facing him. You let out a gasp as he pressed himself against you and you could feel his hard-on just above your waist line. 

He let out a low whisper against your ear, "Can't wait to touch me, huh?" and unzipped your black cocktail dress, letting it slip off of your body.

You faced him and asked while looking into his eyes and grazing your lips on his, "Can you?," before putting your hands around his neck and shoving your tongue inside his mouth, not letting him reply.

He grabbed onto your thighs and picked you up with no effort and as you wrapped your legs around his torso he kissed you until you both reached the bed by the big window and laid you down gently on it. 

The dimmed red lights of the room and the moonlight seeping in through the window created an almost fantastical residence of colours - an illusory heaven. 

Both of you stopped for a moment; Jungkook's body hovered over you as he took his time to take in the beauty in front of him, that is you. The moonlight made his features accentuate in a different way which made him unfathomable and bewitching and you heavily doubted whether it was a dream or reality. 

He softly placed his right palm on your chest, right above your heart and looked into your eyes, pausing for merely a couple seconds as if feeling your racing beats. You watched him and did the same. His touch suddenly felt so real, he felt so real that a lump formed in your throat. He was no longer a figment of your imagination or longing. He was here.

His fingers traced lightly over the outline of your strapless bra and stopped over the front lace strings. He undid it without any struggle and tossed it on the floor. His cold rough hands felt so real against your breast skins as he cupped them that you got goosebumps all over and tears trickled down your eyes loosening the lump in your throat. 

He panicked. His eyes showed concern. And he asked, "Am I hurting you? We can stop here if you want to."

You could see the concern that you wanted to see in his eyes for you all those years ago. And tonight those concerned eyes are all for you. You felt your heart swell and you smiled while pulling him in for a passionate kiss, "You are not." 

When he broke the kiss both of you were breathless and your lips were swollen. You let out a pouty whine when his lips broke contact to which he chuckled and with a quick smooch on your needy lips he took off the lip ring. Keeping it on the bedside table he started leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline and neck. 

Pushing away your unruly hair to a side he began sucking on a particular spot on your neck and you immersed into that faint pain. You were quite sure that it was going to leave pretty deep mark and you wanted it more as the picture of it played in your mind. 

He moved slowly downwards, pressing soft kisses on the skin of your collarbone, on the skin below it, on your soft breast; he stopped just before the right areola and looked above at you. Your nipples itched for attention. Finding the frown on your forehead that he was looking for he smirked and his tongue circled around your areola. He sucked on your right nipple, occasionally swirling his tongue around it and then going back to sucking on it, all while kneading your left boob and taking your left nipple between his index finger and thumb and rolling them, pinching them, tugging them softly. Your body shivered at the pulls and you couldn't help but shove your breast more towards his mouth. 

Not wanting to leave your left breast unattended, he switched and placed chaste kisses on it before taking the nipple inside his pretty mouth. He was so engrossed in your boobs that he didn't realise when he had started to grind his cock to your clothed pussy. 

You let out soft whimpers while grinding back to his hard cock, wanting the maximum friction to satisfy your throbbing core. 

Your whimpers got his attention and he slowed his movements to tease you. You wanted to complain and but you didn't want to at the same time. You loved the anticipation as well the attention you were getting. 

Jungkook's hands loosely tugged at the seam of your matching panty and he began to pull it to get you completely naked. While doing so he pressed his pointed tongue inside your belly button. It felt like something pressed your nerve endings and your clit ached. You pressed your thighs together to get some contentment. 

Throwing the panty on the floor he grabbed your thighs and spread them apart. The cold dry air hitting your exposed opening made you quiver. 

His hands loosely caressed your thighs before moving towards your inner thighs and his saliva drew a slick line from your groin ending just above your clit.  

He touched your dripping core with his long cold fingers and spread the wetness to your clit. The touch sent shivers down your spine and he chuckled, "So wet for me, just how I like it." 

He looked at you and you bit your lips looking at him bashfully. You have imagined yourself like this countless times - naked, Jungkook's eyes resting greedily on your bare body. But now that it was happening for real, you couldn't stop the heat burning up your face. 

Seeing you like that his chuckle vanished and eyes grew something dark in them. He moved towards you and smashed his lips with yours. 

One of your hand grabbed onto the back of his hair and one held onto his shoulder. He started rubbing small circles on your clitoris which gained speed and pressure with each passing second. You clutched on him as small yet strong waves of pleasure hit you. Your mind felt foggy because of his tongue working it's way inside your mouth and his fingers on your pearl. 

You weren't ready for the sudden insertion of his long fingers inside you. He entered two digits inside your folds and pumped in and out at a regular and fast pace. 

The heat in your core was torturing. Wanting more friction you started grinding against his fingers; you needed them to go deeper, to fill you up. 

Sensing your need he fastened his fingering and you rubbed your clit to give yourself the maximum pleasure. 

You failed to hold it in anymore. Your gut tightened and you spilled all over his hand as your body shook in brief tremors. 

"The night is still young, love." He gave you a smirk and licked your juice off of his hand while staring deep into your eyes before diving in between your thighs. As you laid down there, blissed out, a weak smile was all you could muster. 

The warmth of his tongue against your swollen clit felt like a balm. He circled around your clit with his tongue long and slow. You felt a build up inside you. He moved his tongue and lapped at your dripping slit. 

You arched your back at the warmth of his tongue as he slid it in and out of your vagina. You clutched his hair lightly in one hand and the bedsheet in the other. 

The building pleasure was so intense that you felt like your nerves were on fire. You were desperate for having him and feeling him inside you so you breathed out staggeringly, "Jungkook, please.." 

He moved his head upwards and asked cheekily, "Please what, love?" 

"Please Jungkook, I need you inside me!" You pleaded in a raspy voice.

"Fuck! If you say it like that I might have to keep you all to myself." He inhaled sharply and let out a slow sigh. 

"Who said I'm not yours already?" You tilted your head and sat up to cup his cheek. You looked into his eyes while caressing his cheek with your thumb gently. Oh, how you wished this wasn't the first time of you doing this. Oh, how you wished this wasn't the last time. 

For a moment, time seemed to stop between you two as you sat so close to each other lost in each other's presence that you forgot why you two were there. Or may be it was because you both remembered why you were there that you paused in each other's embrace like this. And for the first time in that night, you caught a glint in his eyes that you have never seen before. 

Involuntarily your thumb moved towards that small drop dancing at the tip of the corner of his eye but instead of letting you do so Jungkook leaned his face onto your palm and kissed it. 

He leaned towards you and snaking his right hand behind your head, inside your hair, he laid you down and kissed you. You shifted under his weight and holding onto his back softly you kissed him back. He tasted unusually different this time and you assumed that it was how you tasted that night. 

Breaking from the kiss he swiftly took off his ripped denim pants and went to kiss you again. While still kissing you he adjusted himself against your opening. He looked at you and you understood what he meant and you gave him a mild nod.

He slowly pushed his hard cock inside you, giving you time to adjust to his cock. It didn't matter how considerately slow he entered as you gasped nonetheless. Your mouth stayed agape at how big his cock was and how it was stretching you out. 

When he filled you in completely he dropped a kiss on your forehead and started moving slowly. Slowly and steadily he increased his pace. Low grunts left his mouth - his self taken over by the warmth of you that he was feeling his cock engulfed by. 

As his thrusts increased, Jungkook's name fell from your lips like prayer – a prayer in every sense of all your sleepless nights yearning for him, a prayer for every dream you saw him in, a prayer that was being answered for one night. 

Your breath staggered as he probed deep into you, hitting the very spot you wanted him to. 

He held your hands above your head with his right hand and gripped your thigh with his left hand, trying to keep you steady. His hips moved fast and your moans drove him crazy. He loved it how you were a mess and writhing under him in pleasure. 

With hazy vision you took him in and tried to memorise the expression that he was making. Your name in soft growls left his parted lips and his frown looked so nubile as he pounded you and sweat droplets wetted his dishevelled bangs. You wondered would you be able to keep him from haunting you after this? 

Your honey-laced moans and the sound of your moonlit bodies colliding echoed through the walls of the room as the moon moved down gradually. You lost track of the number of times you had came on his cock already. 

"I'm gonna cum, y/n," He hissed letting out a shaky breath and moved to pull out his cock. 

You shook your head mildly and whispered near his ear after wrapping your legs around his waist tightly to pull him closer, refusing to let go, "I want you to cum inside me." 

"B-but," for the first time that night Jungkook seemed unsure of something. 

You smiled at him faintly and reassured him, "It's okay. I am on the pill." 

He looked deep into your eyes as if trying to find the last drop of assurance. He gave you a soft smile, just like the ones he used to give you at the school hallways while passing by and your heart clenched in a very familiar pain. 

You didn't want to see that smile now so you pulled him in for a kiss and Jungkook gladly obliged. 

Pulling out his cock he pushed it in in one go and you let out a low gasp in his kiss gaining a small chuckle from him. 

Jungkook's body tensed and he thrusted into you in frantic motions as he felt your walls clenching around his cock. You felt small shockwaves running through your body as your back arched and your eyes rolled back. He inhaled sharply and with a final thrust he let go of himself and came, emptying himself inside you. 

Placing a sloppy kiss on your lips Jungkook hugged you, while laying on top of you. His heaving body became one with yours as you rested one of your hands on his back and stroked the back of his hair with another, gently, while relishing yourself in the warmth that you were feeling inside yourself. 

A minute or two passed just like that. You let out discontent moan when Jungkook moved to get up. Seeing you like that he kissed your cheek with smile and said, "I'll back in a second."

Well, he took a minute. But he was back, with a wet towel and a mug full of water. You smiled confusedly and raised an eyebrow at him while supporting yourself up on your elbows.

Without saying anything he just gave you a light shrug and sat near your legs. With gentle hands he started wiping your vagina and inner thighs, making them void of his semen. 

The coldness of the damp towel felt comforting. You closed your eyes as you felt restfulness washing over you. 

••• 

The sunlight pouring through the window made you wince and you rolled over to the shadowed area of the bed. Rubbing your eyes you sat up and scratched your messy hair, still sleepy. 

Your sleepy brain played the last thing that happened last night inside your head and it was Jungkook spooning you while you two fell into a comfortable sleep. 

Suddenly you were wide awake and every moment flashed before your eyes chronologically. You gasped keeping your hand over your mouth and asked yourself, "It really happened, didn't it? It wasn't a dream!" 

Your fingers lingered lightly on your lips and neck and you smiled shyly remembering his touch. His smile, his eyes, his moonlight sipped body appeared in your mind. You instinctively looked over at your side and that's when you realised that he wasn't there. 

You called by his name several times but there was no reply. The worst possible thoughts began clouding your mind. You covered your face with your palms and droplets of tears started to fall from your eyes relentlessly. A piercing pain went back and forth in your heart which got more painful with each drop of tear that fell. 

You looked out at the window while desperately trying to stop yourself from crying while hitting your chest with your fist. You scoffed, "He called me 'love'... How foolish of me to think that he even meant it once!"

All of it, all the memories from last night felt like a dream again, a sweet yet brutal dream to you. You thought, "I got too ahead of myself and let him get into my life again... How could I let myself fall for it!? Of course he wouldn't stay! Why would he? I am just another one night stand for him. He would never look at me like I want him to," you tried to laugh it off but it only made you tear up more. 

Wiping the tears you stood up from the bed to get ready to return to your apartment but you flinched a little when you felt a pain between your thighs and you realised that you were still sore. 

You scoffed again and murmured, "You never fail to make a lasting impression, do you Jeon Jungkook?"  

You were struggling with the back-zip while wearing your dress when the sudden clicking of the door made your head snap towards it and you gasped quite loudly when you saw Jungkook entering through it. 

"I'll be damned." You mumbled under your breath and blurted out, "You?" 

Jungkook looked pretty confused as he answered while closing the door behind him, "Yes, me.. Were you expecting someone else?" 

From his expression you could tell that you blurted out in wrong way, so you quickly fixed it, "No, no.. I mean where did you go? I- I thought..." you stopped midway as the thought of it made your tears well up. 

He swiftly moved towards you and held your hands in his and said, "What? You thought I left, didn't you?" 

You nodded your head ever so lightly while looking down and choked back on your tears. 

He turned you around and slowly zipped your dress. You looked up and he looked into your eyes through the mirror you were standing in front of and apologised, "I am sorry.. you looked so peaceful while sleeping that I didn't want to wake you up. I went to buy breakfast because I know you will have trouble moving after what I did last night." He chuckled with a naughtiness prevalent in his eyes. 

You couldn't help but break into a smile as your cheeks heat up. Jungkook noticed you trying to control your bashful grin but before he could tease you any further you hit his arm and said, "I am starving!" 

While making space on the table he said, "I brought some hangover pills by the way. I couldn't find any hangover soup places nearby." 

"It's okay. Those one or two shots don't really matter when you are habituated with more." You blinked a few times in a row. 

"Are you?" He asked. 

"A little bit, I guess..." You replied and tried to blink away the tears that emerged from the memories of those nights when you drank yourself to sleep in your tiny apartment when his memories got too much to bear. 

You asked in a shaky voice that you couldn't hide, "And you?" 

"Same for me." He gave you a quick smile and sat on the chair opposite to you across the small table. 

He looked at you fondly as you unpacked the food. Feeling his gaze on you, you looked at him questioningly. 

"Let me take you to dinner tonight.. only two of us!" He exclaimed holding the gaze. 

Your mind felt light. It was too much of a story-like situation and it didn't feel like a real life to you at all – you going to that party you weren't willing to go, Jungkook suddenly being there after disappearing for three whole years, him approaching you, him staying after giving you the dreamiest night of your life and now this! 

You gulped at the possibility and asked, "A date?" 

He nodded, "Yes, a date!" 

The inner you froze. You wanted to pinch yourself to give yourself a sense of reality but you didn't want to seem too smitten. 

Jungkook was still staring at you for an answer. Seeing you pondering over the answer, he hesitantly asked, "What do you say?" 

And for the first time in your life you felt like you could read him through his earnest eyes.

Leaving him hanging after that would be a crime. So you broke out from your stupor and smiled at him, keeping up with his starry gaze, "There is no way in hell I can say no to that."  

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~●The End●~

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