#and alice our darling

[lunarlivs]

in -83 alice and cissy buy a cottage by the beach in cornwall and move there with draco, to give him a calm childhood filled with swimming in the sea, growing vegetables, food markets, story times and so much love their little home is bursting with it. here’s some of alice’s drawings of that <33

i hope you see the vision because this was so much fun for me

[baylardian-1]

Kinda an unprompted Threshold AU idea I'd had a while ago surrounding Protectors and Kathryn feeling her lil baby kick for the first time. :)

I'd imagined she'd be stirring in bed contemplating whatever future awaits her return to the Delta Quadrant as Fleet Commander when she'd feel a flutter for the first time. And then proceeds to stay up reading and sporadically feeling the sensation. And Philippa would notice the light on outside of her room and goes to investigate.

[manderleyfire]

You'll always be here for me, won't you?

[carriagelamp]

This month I managed to read a few Classic Children's Novels that I've been meaning to get around to for years, so it was very satisfying to finally have them checked off my list!

Early Man: Junior Novelization

This is a novelization of the Aardman film, in which you learn about the secret neolithic origins of football/soccer, in which a timid, bumbling clan of Stone Age cavemen find themselves being overwhelmed by an all powerful Bronze Age empire… a Bronze Age empire that loves football. The only way to save their valley will be for the cavemen to somehow learn this strange new sport and beat the Bronze Age champions.

I really enjoy this movie and I often enjoy a novelization, so I thought I’d see how this one was. And it was… fine. It pretty well expresses the movie in simple language, with no shocks and surprises — though it was Americanized which always gets my goat. If something is written in British English just leave the damn thing in British English, especially if one of the key concepts is football/soccer, it just becomes jarring to “soccer” when the whole movie refers to it as “football” smh

Elmer and the Dragon // The Dragons of Blueland

I read the first book of this trilogy — My Father’s Dragon — a couple months ago because of the Netflix film and quite enjoyed it. These next two books were… fine. The first felt quite fresh and interesting and charming, in which a young boy called Elmer ventures to Wild Island to try to save a baby dragon that’s been imprisoned by the animals there. These next two are a direct continuation of that adventure, but honestly just feel more like additional chapters more than anything, they don’t really stand on their own. In Elmer and the Dragon, Elmer and the baby dragon escape Wild Island and end up having a little adventure with some birds who have a strange mystery on their island. In The Dragons of Blueland, Elmer is called back by the baby dragon to help save his family who are being hunted and are trapped in a cave. 

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation 3

I adore this series, and I’ve talked about it at length before. I can’t believe that this book almost entirely took place in the past and never resolved the cliffhanger from the end of book two, but it just as me desperate to get my hands on the fourth book. The way all the different layers of the past are gradually being woven together to not only give answers but to actually raise more questions is really well done and makes it really satisfying to track how all these different characters connect to each other, and who knows what, and what events happened before and after other events…

I Think Our Son Is Gay

Just a very cute little manga about a housewife who suspects that her son may be gay. The son hasn’t come out yet, and is doing his best to try to cover it up, though he is sweet and very easy to read and not a terribly good liar. This is just the cutest slice of life — the mother accepts her son completely and is supporting him from the background until he’s ready to come out himself.

Julián Is A Mermaid

A lovely and loving picture book about a little boy who is completely enthralled by mermaids. He does his best to get dressed up as one, making a horrible mess in the process. However, when his abuela finds him and the mess, rather than being upset, she helps him perfect his costume and encourages him to do the things that make him feel happy and excited. All about self-love and passions and how children might express themselves in different ways.

I find some books like this can occasionally feel less like fun stories a child would enjoy and more like a lecture directed at adults who are already familiar with the topic, but this one is a perfect balance. It has a message to share, but the art is wonderful and dynamic, and the story is one a child could enjoy and relate to.

My Dress-Up Darling v1

I’ve had a hard month, so my brother bought me the first book of this as a happy day present because he thought it was funny. It definitely was and I think I’ll pick up the next book, it made me giggle out loud.

This story is about a boy who is learning the art of making traditional hina dolls from his dollmaker grandfather. While he loves the work, and is excited to be ready to work on more than just the clothing, he feels like a misfit for this unusual passion. Things change though when he finds his sewing skills suddenly being called for by a classmate who has her own odd passion -- a video game character that she desperately wants to cosplay. It's very cute, very silly, and is absolutely chock full of fanservice if you enjoy some gratuitous, silly sexiness along with romcom.

Nick and Charlie

Like many people I’ve been enjoying the Heartstopper graphic novel series, and finally picked up this little novella that Oseman had written years ago about a snapshot into Nick and Charlie’s relationship. This novella takes place in the lead up to Nick going off to university — Nick’s excited and Charlie’s anxiety over being left behind or forgotten is at an all time high. It was a very sweet and very quick read, I enjoyed settling down with it.

The Secret of Platform 13

I’ve often heard this book called a clear inspiration behind Harry Potter and have always meant to read it — well, now I finally have! I really enjoyed The Secret of Platform 13 and would highly recommend it to anyone that wants a book that reads like good, old-school, children’s low fantasy. I honestly can’t remember the last time I read a fantasy novel that gave me quite this feeling in a long time.

There is a magical world kept hidden safely away from the mundane world, where humans and magical beings are able to live together in safe and happy harmony. Every few years though, a door between the worlds open for a few days, giving a chance for people to crossover. During one of these moments, the newly born prince is brought over… and kidnapped, disappearing into the mundane world and unable to be rescued before the closing of the door. The magical kingdom waits many anxious years for the door to open once more, so that an intrepid rescue party can be sent out to save the lost, kidnapped prince…

Shaun the Sheep: The Flock Factor // The Beast of Soggy Moor

I really love these little Shaun the Sheep novels, between the art and the silly, cute writing style they really capture all the great things about the show. I had read a few of them a couple years back, and decided to finish off the series.

These books are all about Shaun, the de facto leader of the farm’s sheep flock, who is always coming up with schemes and plots and pranks. Along with him is the rather bumbling sheep flock, always ready for some mischief, Bitzer the overworked sheepdog who is just trying to keep order, and the completely clueless Farmer who manages to get into just as much trouble as his flock.

Stuart Little // The Trumpet of the Swan

I got onto an E. B White kick at the end of the winter holidays, because I have read Charlotte’s Web a hundred times, but haven’t read his other two children’s novels. I will say, I can see why it’s Charlotte’s Web that has really stood the test of time while the other two have become a bit more of a footnote. Both were enjoyable reads, but I wouldn’t bother recommending either unless someone really wanted a classic children’s novel to read.

The Trumpet of the Swan is about a trumpeter swan who is born without a voice. Determined to find ways to communicate, Louis goes through a variety of adventures, in which he befriends a human boy, learns how to print, is gifted a trumpet, gets employed at a summer camp, and even saves his love from a zoo. There’s some bits I really like, but then there’s other bits that don’t quite sit right, especially towards the end. It’s a mixed bag in my opinion.

Stuart Little I found particularly disappointing, especially because I assumed it would be like the film that came out in the aughts. Instead, Stuart Little is more episodic than possessing an overarching story, in which the mouse Stuart, born to a human family, goes through a series of odd misadventures that a mouse can get into. Once again, I found the ending weird… E. B. White just has a kind of weird fixation about love and I don’t love how it’s expressed in these children’s books. It feels out of place and frankly uninteresting. Honestly, I’d rather just rewatch the movie.

[nevaehdavis5675]

.•♫•♬•i• made bendy and .•♫•♬•I daughter meet wendy•♬•♫•.♬•♫•.

App I used : gacha club

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats Pt. 2

Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI

Part 1

“Princess Y/N of house Velaryon.” The guard announces.

Rhaenyra’s heart skips a beat, surely he is mistaken.

“Mother,” Y/N says, racing toward her. “Your grace,” she corrects herself.

Rhaenyra wraps her eldest child in her arms. “Mother will do just fine.”

Y/N buries her face in Rhaenyra’s shoulder.

“How did you get here?” Aegon would never let her go of his own free will.

“Daemon,” Y/N breathes. Knowing that her stepfather will owe her for the half truth.

“Where are the children?”

“In King’s Landing.” Y/N tells her, “to keep Aegon’s wits about him in my absence. He wants to come to an agreement, he’s more than willing to bend the knee. I only ask that he and Helaena be spared…as for Aemond Targaryen, he is a murderer.” Y/N’s voice breaks, “we will avenge the murder of my brother.”

Rhaenyra’s strokes a hand over her hair, feeling the dark waves that remind her of Lucerys. “Aegon and Helaena will receive full pardons based on your testimony. Rest assured I appreciate what you have done on my behalf.”

“Thank you.” Y/N pulls back marginally, realizing her mother’s pregnant belly should be between them. “Where is the babe?”

Rhaenyra shakes her head.

Y/N covers her mouth with her hand, “I am terribly sorry.”

“It is no fault of yours, darling girl.”

“I should have been here with you.”

“When I offered your hand in marriage, I had no idea Aegon was capable of love. It has complicated all of this.”

Y/N nods, “speaking of my husband. I should send word that I am well, lest he take out his frustration on Dragonstone.”

Rhaenyra taps her chin, affectionately. “I will fetch a scroll.”

————————————————————————-

Aegon’s youngest son is the only one of his children to share Y/N’s dark locks. His wife insisted they name him Aegon. After my dearest love. She said.

Aegon agreed of course as he can deny her nothing. The child wails nonstop, in the absence of his mother. At all of four months old, Aegon is the only one who can quiet him besides Y/N. As such, the King is now attending the small council meeting with a babe in his arms.

Their daughter, Dahlia, the eldest of the twins will sit the iron throne one day, through his line of succession and Rhaenyra’s. At all of six, she is sitting at the table. His other children Visera and Laenor have not been properly protected under the guard, they too must stay in his sightline.

“Gods be good.” Alicent frowns at her son.

“What is it?” Aegon huffs, arching a brow at her.

“The small council is no place for children, your grace.” Alicent explains. “They would be better tended by their maids.”

Aegon nods, “right. As you all know, two nights ago, the Princess Helaena was attacked in the children’s chambers. Our heirs were threatened and Queen Y/N was taken from us. During which time, not a single guard could be found on the entirety of the royal floor! Because you were-”

Aegon looks to his children in turn, “cover your ears my darlings.” He smiles, waiting until they have done as they’re told, holding his own hand over his infant’s ear. “Where were we, mother? Oh, that’s right, no one was guarding my children because you were fucking the royal guard.”

The council members lower their heads in acknowledgement.

“The men who carried out this attack, entered under the guise of rat catching. I want them found and swiftly executed.” Aegon demands, patting his sleeping son’s leg.

“We have been interrogating rat catchers for days, thus far we have no leads.” Otto explains.

A slow smile spreads over the King’s face. “Then hang them all.”

Alicent blanches.

“Anything else?” Aegon asks, watching Visera begin toying with Otto’s chair.

“A letter arrived from Dragonstone, your grace.” Lord Tyland informs him.

“Oh?” Aegon says, “from Rhaenyra?”

“From Queen Y/N.”

Aegon swallows, “did you read it?”

“No, my King.”

“Good,” Aegon reaches for the rolled parchment.

‘My dearest Aegon,

Please know that I am well. We would like to begin negotiations to end the blockade and create a peaceful transfer of power. This will require your cooperation, I hope you will meet me at Dragonstone to discuss this matter farther.

Forever yours,

Y/N’

Aegon exhales, sharply.

“What is it, your grace?”

“The children and I are off to Dragonstone.”

“Whatever for?”

“To negotiate the terms of Y/N’s return.”

“My King…”

“And if you cannot agree on said terms?” Alicent asks.

Aegon frowns, lifting a shoulder. “To war then.”

“He is unhinged,” Otto whispers to his daughter.

“As I warned he would be.” Alicent rises from her seat. “He is quite…devoted to her.”

————————————————————————

“It has been three days since you sent word to King’s Landing. We must assume Aegon’s silence is his response.” Daemon seethes, around the drawing table.

“Give it time.” Y/N insists, “you owe me that.”

Daemon smirks, “I owe you nothing, spoiled thing.”

“Mmm,” Y/N hums. “My mother does not yet know how I came to be here.”

“And you are not going to tell her. Otherwise, my distaste for your usurping cunt of a husband will be demonstrated at length.”

Sunfyre roars, calling their attention to the nearest window.

Daemon huffs, “I’ll be damned.”

“And he’s brought the children.” Y/N rejoices, running out to join her family.

Jacaerys is already helping to unload her children from the makeshift carriage on the dragon’s saddle.

“Mother!” Dahlia and Visera charge Y/N nearly knocking her backwards.

Laenor runs after them with his little legs as Aegon the fourth, stares at her, babbling in his father’s arms.

Y/N is moved to tears, “you came.”

“You didn’t think I would?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

“It’s a rather large ask,” Y/N explains.

“For you, the world.” He replies, with a kiss to her temple. “Now, where is Rhaenyra? We have much to discuss.”

“Her grace will join us soon.”

Aegon nods, “I request a small audience, before the council.”

“That can be arranged.”

“After which your brother might tend the children whilst you show me your quarters.” Aegon whispers.

Y/N smirks, “of course.”

Part 3

Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight

[seafarersdream]

Heck yeah Freddie Fox!!!!what if reader plays Gwayne and Alicent sister, but their chemistry is sooooo good that the creators had to cut their scenes together because "they're Hightowers, not Targaryens"🤣🤣🤣and the cast are having the time of their lives with that

Me and the Devil (Freddie Fox x Y/N)

Y/N L/N, who stars as Lady Eleanor Hightower, has an absolutely electric chemistry with her on-screen brother, Freddie Fox, who plays Ser Gwayne Hightower, much to the amusement and exasperation of the HOTD cast and crew.

TW // Strong language and profanities, incestuous undertones, sexual tension and innuendos.

The sun was rising behind the walls of the Red Keep, casting long, creeping shadows over the Outer Courtyard. Lady Eleanor Hightower, clad in the deep, grieving olive of her house, stood with an air of weary grace beside her sister, Dowager Queen Alicent. Her face was a picture of calm, though her eyes were heavy with the sorrow of loss and the weight of recent weeks.

“Do you think he’ll bring that dreadful horse again?” Eleanor asked, her voice soft but dripping with that sharp edge she never quite lost, even in mourning.

Alicent’s lips twitched, but she held her composure. "If he does, I’ll have it stabled outside the walls. I’m not having that beast piss all over the courtyard again."

The rumble of hooves on cobblestones drew their attention. The gates opened, and a column of knights in shining armor, bearing the sigil of House Hightower, entered the courtyard. At their head was Ser Gwayne Hightower, his helm tucked under one arm, revealing the tousled auburn hair and devil-may-care grin that Eleanor had grown so used to seeing—when he wasn’t hiding it behind an arrogant smirk.

“Well, well, look who it is. The fairest blooms of Oldtown,” Gwayne drawled, striding over like he owned all Seven Kingdoms. “Alicent, you’re still holding up the realm with that iron fist of yours. And Eleanor…” His eyes trailed over her, lingering just a fraction too long, “Looking every bit the grieving widow. Tell me, how does it feel to be free of that hideous arsehole, late Lord Hastwyck? May the Seven forgive him.”

Eleanor shot him a withering look, but there was a glint of mischief in her eyes. “About as good as it feels to watch you strut around like you haven’t been fucked in months.”

“Oh, fuck off, Ellie,” Freddie retorted, still in character, his grin widening. “Thought all that mourning might’ve taken the edge off your bite, but clearly, I was wrong.”

Eleanor arched an eyebrow, a smirk that could rival his playing on her lips. “And you, brother, seem as full of yourself as ever. Did the trip here inflate your ego even further?”

Gwayne grinned wider, flashing teeth. “Careful, little sister, or I’ll think you missed me.”

Alicent, tired of their verbal sparring, interjected. “Gwayne, you’ve arrived at an important time. Ser Criston Cole has replaced our father as Hand, and there is much work to be done.”

Gwayne’s grin faded into a sneer. “Ser Criston Cole? That jumped-up cunt of a knight? What, are we that desperate, we’re pulling nobodies out of the arse-end of the Kingsguard now?”

The crew, who had been trying to keep it together, finally lost it. Laughter rang out across the courtyard, cameramen shaking their heads as they tried to stay steady.

“Cut! Fucking hell, cut!” Geeta Patel called out, struggling to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She stepped forward, waving her hands as she approached the trio. “Alright, Freddie, Y/N, that was... Jesus Christ, that was incredible. But you’re not Jaime and Cersei Lannister, alright? You’re Hightowers. That kind of sibling chemistry doesn’t fly in this family. Tone down the ‘let’s fuck each other senseless’ vibes, okay?”

Freddie turned to Y/N, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Hear that, darling? We’re too bloody hot for Westeros.”

Geeta rolled her eyes, but she was smiling despite herself. “I swear, you two are going to give me aneurysm. Just... try to remember you’re siblings. No more of that smoldering shit. The Hightowers don’t do what the Targaryens do, alright?”

Freddie put on a mock-serious face, hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear to be the picture of brotherly love. No more dirty looks, no more—“

“Smoldering looks, you tosser,” Y/N corrected, elbowing him in the ribs. “And good luck with that.”

The crew was still giggling, a few members openly impressed. “Honestly, we haven’t seen chemistry like this since Game of Thrones,” one of the grips muttered, shaking his head. “It’s fucking unreal.”

As Geeta returned to her chair, giving notes to the crew, Freddie leaned in closer to Y/N. “Honestly, how are we supposed to act like siblings when you keep giving me those eyes?”

Y/N shot him a sidelong glance. “You mean the same eyes you’re giving me right now? Don’t think I don’t notice.”

Freddie chuckled, his voice low enough that only Y/N could hear. “Well then how about we really give them something to talk about?”

Y/N swatted at him playfully. “Behave yourself, Fox. Or I’ll tell Geeta.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Before Freddie could fire back, Geeta’s voice rang out again. “Alright, enough banter, you two. Places! And for fuck’s sake, remember—you’re Hightowers, not Targaryens or Lannisters!”

Freddie straightened up, slipping back into his role as Ser Gwayne, but not before giving Y/N one last, devilish wink. “For now,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

Y/N fought to keep her expression neutral, but the corners of her mouth twitched with suppressed laughter. She shot him a look that promised retribution later.

As the cameras rolled once more, they slipped effortlessly back into character, their banter sizzling with that same crackling chemistry that had the entire crew both laughing and marveling at just how damn good these two were together—siblings or not.

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On a different day, Geeta Patel was giving final instructions to Olivia Cooke and to Fabien Frankel. “Alright, Olivia, Fabien,” Geeta began, her tone calm. “This scene is all about the farewell. Criston, you’re asking for Alicent’s favor before you leave for war. This is a significant moment between you two. We need it to be subtle, yet powerful. Got it?”

Fabien nodded, his expression serious. “Got it, Geeta.”

Olivia smiled. “Ready when you are.”

Geeta gave them a satisfied nod and turned to the crew. “Okay, everyone, positions! Let’s make this one count.”

As the cameras rolled, Criston Cole approached Alicent with a grave expression, his armor gleaming in the dying light. He bowed low, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “Your Grace,” he began, his tone respectful, yet carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

Alicent looked at him with those sharp, knowing eyes, giving him a slight nod. “May the Seven guide you, good knight,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “And lead you not to shadow and death.”

Criston bowed his head even lower, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I thank Your Grace for her prayers,” he replied, his voice filled with reverence.

Alicent turned as if to leave, her gown sweeping the stones with a soft rustle. But before she could take more than a step, Criston’s voice called her back. “And I would request,” he said, his words halting her in her tracks, “that Her Grace grant me her favor. That her Lord Commander may go into battle with her blessings… in his heart.”

The scene hung heavy in the air, the tension thick between them as Criston’s plea echoed through the courtyard. Alicent hesitated, her hand brushing against the delicate fabric of her sleeve as she turned back to him, her eyes locking onto his. There was a moment of silence, a breath suspended in time, as everyone waited to see what she would do.

She finally reached into her sleeve, pulling out the small, delicate handkerchief embroidered with her initials. The camera zoomed in, capturing the intricate details, the way her fingers trembled just slightly as she held it out to him. “Take this,” she murmured, her voice carrying a subtle tremor, “as a token of my favor. Return victorious, Ser Criston. And know that you carry my thoughts with you.”

Criston bowed his head, taking the handkerchief. “Your Grace,” he replied, his voice rough, “I shall return with your favor in my heart and the victory of your cause in my hands.”

The scene was supposed to be the focal point of the episode—an understated farewell between the Dowager Queen and her paramour.

Or at least, that was the plan.

In the background, Eleanor and Gwayne were supposed to be having a far simpler exchange—just a quick farewell between siblings, nothing more.

The moment the camera panned to them, what was meant to be a brief, subdued farewell exploded into something far more dramatic.

“Eleanor, my sweet sister,” Gwayne declared, sweeping her up in an exaggerated embrace, his voice loud enough to carry across the courtyard. “How will I ever endure the horrors of war without your smile to guide me through the darkness?”

Y/N played right into it. She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes shining with fake tears. “Gwayne, you reckless fool, you’d better come back to me—or I swear I’ll hunt you down myself.”

The crew exchanged glances, trying desperately to keep their laughter in check as the two continued to ad-lib their way through what was supposed to be a simple goodbye.

Gwayne placed a hand on Eleanor’s cheek, his expression one of melodramatic intensity. “If I do not return, tell the world I died with your name on my lips.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” someone from the crew muttered, barely audible over the sound of snickering.

Geeta Patel, perched in her director’s chair, pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Cut! CUT!” she finally called out, though her voice was tinged with reluctant amusement. “Freddie, Y/N, what the bloody hell was that? You’re supposed to be siblings, not star-crossed lovers.”

Freddie turned to Y/N with a grin that could only be described as wicked. “Sorry, Geeta, got a bit carried away there. Can you blame me? Look at her—who wouldn’t fall madly in love?”

Y/N smirked, not missing a beat. “Don’t flatter yourself, Fox. It’s called acting.”

Geeta threw up her hands in defeat. “I swear, you two are the bane of my existence. How am I supposed to get a serious scene out of you when you keep turning everything into a bloody pantomime?”

The crew was struggling to keep it together. Even Olivia, standing nearby as Alicent, was biting her lip, trying to stay in character despite the ridiculousness happening behind her.

Freddie chuckled. “Geeta, darling, I think what we’re doing here is revolutionary.”

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, though she was clearly enjoying herself. “What he’s trying to say, Geeta, is that we’re just too damn good together. Maybe it’s time to change the script.”

“Or maybe,” Geeta retorted, her tone playful despite her frustration, “you two could try actually sticking to the script for once. I’m pretty sure HBO isn’t paying you to improvise a Lannister-style farewell.”

Freddie turned to Y/N, pretending to consider it. “What do you think, Eleanor? Should we behave ourselves this time?”

Y/N gave a mock sigh, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off her costume. “I suppose we could try.”

Geeta couldn’t help but shake her head as she gestured for the crew to reset. “Alright, let’s take it from the top. And this time, keep it in your pants, Hightower freaks.”

Cameras rolled once more, the scene resumed, with Criston and Alicent taking center stage as intended from the start.

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The camera opens on a sleek, modern studio set, the familiar logo of Max glowing softly in the background. Y/N and Freddie are seated side by side, relaxed and comfortable, both dressed casually but stylishly—Y/N in a chic blouse and jeans, Freddie in his usual mix of sharp yet slightly rumpled attire.

The interviewer, a young woman with a cheerful demeanor, smiled warmly at them. “Thank you both for joining us today. Why don’t we start with some introductions?”

“Hello, everyone! I’m Y/N L/N, and I play Lady Eleanor Hightower on House of the Dragon,” Y/N says, her voice smooth and confident as she introduces herself.

Freddie chimes in right after. “And I’m Freddie Fox, and I play Ser Gwayne Hightower, Eleanor’s incredibly charming, dashingly handsome older brother.”

Y/N snorts, nudging him with her elbow. “You forgot modest, Freddie. Always so modest.”

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying their banter. “It’s great to have you both here. So, as you know, House of the Dragon has a massive fandom, and one of the things they love to do is theorize and create ships outside of the canon. They really get invested in the chemistry between characters—and, let’s be honest, between the actors as well.”

Freddie and Y/N exchange a look, both trying to suppress knowing smiles.

The interviewer continues with a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, naturally, people are starting to wonder—could we be seeing the next Kit Harington and Rose Leslie? You know, screen partners turning into real-life partners?”

Freddie, never one to miss an opportunity for a bit of fun, suddenly turned in his seat, getting down on one knee in front of Y/N. With an exaggeratedly serious expression, he took her hand. “Y/N, dearest Lady Eleanor, would you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife? I promise to annoy you, to steal your snacks, and to outshine you in every single scene we ever do together.”

Y/N bursts out laughing, placing a hand over her heart as if genuinely touched. “Oh, Freddie, how could I ever say no to such a heartfelt proposal? But I must warn you—I take up all the covers at night, and I’m not above hiding the remote if you try to switch to football during one of our movie nights.”

The interviewer is cracking up now, along with the crew behind the cameras. “I didn’t expect this, but I’m loving it! You two are absolutely priceless.”

Freddie stood up, still holding Y/N’s hand, and they both gave a bow to the camera. “Well, you know," he says, turning back to the interviewer, “it’s all about keeping the fans on their toes. Can’t make it too easy for them to figure out what’s going on, right?”

Y/N grins. “Exactly. We like to keep things... interesting.”

The interviewer, still grinning, leans in. “So, should we start planning the wedding, or...?”

Freddie looked thoughtfully at Y/N, tapping his chin. “Well, we’re thinking of something small. Just us, a couple of dragons, and maybe a White Walker to officiate. Keep it intimate, you know?”

Y/N nodded sagely. “Very exclusive. Only the crème de la crème of Westeros.”

The interviewer shakes her head, thoroughly entertained. “Okay, okay, I think we’ve just given the fandom even more fuel for their theories! On a serious note, though, it’s clear you two have incredible chemistry. What’s it like working together on set?”

Y/N smiled warmly at Freddie before answering. “Honestly, it’s a blast. Freddie and I just click, and I think that shows on screen. We’ve got a great rapport, and it’s always fun bringing these characters to life together.”

Freddie nodded, adding, “Yeah, we give each other a lot of shit, but that’s part of what makes it work. We trust each other, and that allows us to really push the boundaries in our scenes—sometimes a bit too much, according to Geeta,” he added with a wink.

The interviewer wraps it up, still chuckling. “Well, it’s been an absolute blast talking with you both. Can’t wait to see what chaos you bring to House of the Dragon next season.”

As the camera pulls back and the lights dim, Freddie and Y/N share a quick, conspiratorial glance, knowing they’d just given the fandom more than enough to talk about—and probably a few new fanfics to write as well.

When the interview dropped on the internet, the fandom absolutely exploded. Social media was flooded with clips of Freddie’s mock proposal, and the internet lost its collective mind.

Fans were dissecting every moment of the interview, from the playful banter to the way Freddie had gazed up at Y/N during his over-the-top proposal. The comments sections were filled with fans declaring that they were “shipping” the two even harder now, some even demanding that someone should cast them both in a romcom.

Amid the chaos, Y/N decided to fan the flames a bit more. She posted a cheeky selfie on Instagram, looking effortlessly stunning as always, with a caption that read, “The coolest of the Hightower siblings.”

It didn’t take long for Freddie to jump in on the fun. He reposted her selfie to his own Instagram story, adding the caption, “THE future Mrs. Fox.”

The internet went into overdrive. Fans were tagging each other, sharing screenshots, and even their House of the Dragon co-stars started chiming in with their own comments, playing along with the joke. The whole thing had taken on a life of its own, and it was clear that Y/N and Freddie had become the fandom’s favorite new obsession.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

During a press event, when Rhys Ifans, the man behind Otto Hightower, was asked about his thoughts on Freddie and Y/N’s antics, his face split into a wide, unabashed grin.

“Well, as Otto,” he began, dropping into character with a serious tone, “I have to say, it’s a major fucking ick. Completely inappropriate! Gwayne and Eleanor getting all... cozy? That would make Otto want to strangle someone. He’d be straight to the quill, penning some strongly worded letters to sort that shit out.”

The crowd erupted in laughter, knowing exactly how Otto Hightower would react to such scandal.

“But as Rhys?” he continued, his tone shifting to one of genuine enthusiasm, “I’m all in! I mean, have you seen those two together? The chemistry is off the bloody charts! If they don’t end up getting married after all this, I’ll be sorely disappointed. They’re perfect for each other—on and off the screen.”

His lighthearted comment sent the room into a ripple of laughter, with everyone loving the idea of Rhys being a secret shipper of Freddie and Y/N.

Within hours, his quote—“Ick as Otto, but fuck yes as Rhys!”—became the battle cry of the fandom, plastered across memes, gifs, and fan art that flooded every corner of the internet. It wasn't just spreading; it was detonating.

The whole situation exploded into a full-blown phenomenon, with fans practically canonizing Rhys as the unofficial president of the Freddie and Y/N ship. People started tagging him in everything, from wild fan theories to NSFW fanfiction, with captions like “Rhys would approve” or “Otto hates it, but Rhys lives for it.”

It was unhinged, chaotic, and utterly glorious. Rhys’s endorsement didn’t just add fuel to the fire; it threw in a grenade, making the whole thing go nuclear.

[ellecdc]

hi! so i was wondering if i could make a request of poly!jegulus x reader fic where the reader goes out to maybe a bachelorette party or smth and gets drunk and james and regulus takes care of her afterwards? if not then no worries! hope you have an amazing day!

thanks so much darling! I love our little Jegulus fics <3

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!Jegulus x fem!reader who they pick up from a bachelorette

Regulus tried to ignore the strobe lights and the booming bass that currently accosted his senses as he pushed through the masses of sweaty bodies and drunk people “dancing” in his mission to find you.

Fortunately he needn’t search long.

Unfortunately, his and James’ appearance elicited blood curdling squealing from the bachelorette party you were currently attending.

The bride (Alice) and maid of honour (Lily) started wolf whistling at the two boys and Regulus was certain it was Marlene who started the chant “take it off!”

Much to Regulus’ chagrin and to everyone else's joy, James actually started lifting his shirt before Regulus pinched him harshly in the side.

“James Fleamont Potter, you keep your sodding clothes on!” Regulus hissed before his eyes finally landed on you.

He ignored what sounded like a petulant “I was only giving the ladies what they wanted” from James as he crouched in front of you.

Regulus tried (and failed) to control his love sick smile as your foggy gaze cleared when you realised who was suddenly situated in front of you.

“Regulus!” You cheered, your mouth hanging open in a permanent smile as if you couldn’t possibly believe he was truly here.

“And James!” James added as he sat beside you on the pleather settee and roughly pulled you into his side. 

“What are you guys doing here?” You slurred slightly as you looked lovingly between your two boyfriends. 

Regulus felt his eyebrows pinch, but James - ever the master of nonchalance - simply pressed a kiss to your hair. “You asked us to come for you, angel.” He explained plainly.

Your eyebrows pinched to match Regulus’ as you let out a quiet “oh.” 

“Well, that was ver-very smart of me.” You declared through a hiccup. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” James asked as he rubbed your arm and Regulus confirmed that all of your belongings were safely stored within your purse.

“I was just thinking how much I, how much I would like to be home with my boys now.” You admitted in a sigh, letting your head - which seemed to weigh far too much for your neck - fall onto James’ all-too-willing shoulder.

“Awe, you’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?” James murmured, earning him a snort from Dorcas. 

“Right, you’ve got yourself a real sweetheart there Potter - which one of you taught her how to play poker?” Dorcas sneered, causing James to bark a laugh, you to hide shyly into his shoulder, and Regulus to grin proudly.

“Did you take them for all they’re worth, amour?” He whispered as he encouraged your face from its sanctuary in James with a gentle hand on your chin.

“Of course she did.” James answered for you, blowing a cheeky raspberry over your head at your friends. “She’s an all-star.”

Dorcas laughed good naturedly as Lily rolled her eyes fondly. “That may be; but she’s officially banned from playing with us.”

“Fair enough.” Regulus admitted as he smiled at your petulant pout and helped you stand like a baby fawn in your heels. 

“How’s everyone else getting home?” James asked the other girls as he supported you with a gentle arm around your waist.

Dorcas, Marlene, and Pandora were getting a ride from Barty and Evan, and Lily, Mary, and Alice were getting picked up by Frank.

After far too many hugs and cheek kisses and what looked like the beginning of tears on Pandora’s part as Regulus finally pried you away from the group, you clumsily made your way into the back of Regulus’ waiting car with James. 

“Did you have fun tonight, sweets?” James asked as he ensured your buckle was properly clasped. 

“Oh, yes.” You declared breathlessly; as if being chaperoned to the car, basically lifted in and buckled up was exhausting work. 

The streets were quiet at this time of night and Regulus enjoyed the comfortable silence that came over the three of you as he stole sneaky glances over his shoulder, sharing soft smiles with James at having their girl back.

“What time is it?” You asked urgently; your tone and words suddenly sounding half-sober as you interrupted the serenity of the car.

“It’s almost three, amour.” Regulus answered, peaking in the rearview mirror to see you staring straight ahead and James looking at the side of your face concernedly as Regulus navigated the quiet, lamp lit streets. 

“In the morning!?” You shrilled, causing James to snort a laugh and rub at your hairline with his thumb as he rested his hand at the nape of your neck. 

“Yes, baby. In the morning; that’s usually when the party’s over, yeah?”

“Did I wake you guys up?” You asked far too shyly for Regulus’ liking.

“Of course not, amour.” Regulus responded quickly, which was followed up with a “we stayed up waiting for you” from James.

Regulus heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips, the sound of James pressing a kiss to your hair, and then nothing but the sound of the tires on the road beneath you for a few moments.

Suddenly, disturbingly, upsettingly; he heard a sniffle.

Regulus immediately took his foot off the gas as he looked at you through the mirror to find your face pointed down in your lap and James leaning forward in an attempt to see your face.

“What’s the matter, angel?”

“Do you feel okay?” Regulus asked quickly, worrying you may be sick.

“I feel fine.” You cried quietly; Regulus could just make out what looked like the fall of a fat tear from your eyes where your head was lowered.

“What are the tears for, sweetheart?” James asked again, trying to encourage you to face him which you stubbornly refused.

“Why is she crying, Jamie?” Regulus asked desperately.

He pretended he didn’t see James shoot him an unimpressed look in the rearview mirror.

“Amour?” He whispered which elicited a quiet sob from you.

Regulus - only slightly unsafely - hastily pulled onto a side street and parked the car before he moved out of his seat, opened your door and crouched beside you.

“Amour, please darling. What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel sick?” James asked, still rubbing affectionately at the nape of your neck. You quickly shook your head no.

Regulus was at least a little relieved you weren’t about to sick up on him.

“Why are you crying, mon cheri?” He whispered, moving a lock of your hair behind your ear and tracing his thumb across your cheekbone.

“You guys are so lovely.” You admitted miserably.

“Angel.” James cooed as he roughly rubbed between your shoulders as if trying to ‘shake you out of it’. “You’re crying because your boyfriends are lovely?”

“Yes.” You sobbed and hid your face in your hands.

“Okay, that’s it.” Regulus demanded as he stood and closed your door gently before walking around the car and opening up James’.

“You’re fired. Get out.” He barked simply.

James let out a disbelieving laugh and looked at Regulus strangely. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have our sweet girl sobbing back here.” He explained (overdramatically) as he flung a hand in your direction. “So, you’re fired; you have to drive now.”

James couldn’t help the fond grin that took over his face (the kind Regulus loved the most; the kind that resulted in two dimples instead of just the usual one) as he shook his head in exasperation and acquiesced to his new role as chauffeur. 

“Okay amour, that’s enough now, yeah? You had a good night? Lot’s of fun with the girls? And two boys who love you a lot?” Regulus cooed as he took James’ recently vacated seat.

“I know!” You cried and flung your hands into your lap. “I’m so lucky!”

Regulus made an embarrassingly gooey ‘tsking’ sound as James laughed.

“Thank you, but we’re the lucky ones, angel.”

This just caused you to cry harder.

Regulus could have killed James right then and there if he didn’t look so sodding good behind the wheel of his car.

He’d deal with him later, though; for now, he had a sweet drunk lovie to snuggle.

[bee-the-loser-recs]

~~~~☼ My Soobin One-shot Fic Recs ☼~~~

𖤓 Feelings for you By @txt-trash 19.3k, roommates au, Soobin has a shitty ex, strangers to friends to lovers, hesitant to date at first, fluff, smut, barista Soobin, college graduates, one instant of fake dating

𖤓 Friendly desires By @txt-trash 8.8k, college au, friends to lovers, jealousy, kind of himbo Soobin, flirting, smut, fluff, helping one another get with someone else, accidently falling for each other

𖤓 Alice in Wonderland By @acidsoju 21.1k, basically an Enchanted au, Prince Soobin, fantasy au, royalty au, multidimensional au, Prince Soobin in the modern world, fluff, angst, falling in love, "doomed relationship", slow burn, best friend Yeonjun

𖤓 Lost in Neverland By @acidsoju 22.7k, part 2 to Alice in Wonderland, fantasy au, royalty au, multidimensional au, waking up in Soobin's dimension, fluff, angst, romance, love triangle, mage Beomgyu, second lead syndrome, slow burn

𖤓 Muse [part 1] & [part 2] By @acidsoju 4.9k, college au, smut, poetry major!Soobin x art major!reader, alcohol, struggling to find motivation/inspiration, slight fluff, friends TXT, art major!Kai, helping one another

𖤓 Loser By @acidsoju 4.6k, college au, project partners, fluff, smitten Soobin, slice of life, romance, kind of loser Soobin, alcohol, pining

𖤓 Class Prez By @acidsoju 4.4k, high school seniors, enemies to ??, class president!Soobin, troublemaker!reader, smut, fuck buddies?

𖤓 When your lips touch mine By @wonustars 4.2k, college au, friends? to lovers, classmates, meeting after being stood up, cheering up, smut, slight fluff, undeniable attraction, kind of obsessed with one another, friend Yeonjun

𖤓 Random texts w/ Bf!Soobin By @saursoob SMAU, established relationship, fluff, slight sexual innuendoes, humour

𖤓 Level up By @iicehoon Streamer Soobin, established relationship, they both play videogames, cute relationship, fluff, being on stream

𖤓 Home By @tubatwo 1.2k, established relationship, fluff, slight angst, jealousy, silly flirting from friends!TXT

𖤓 When you forget to switch accounts By @bowlofsoob SMAU, Spotify media manager!reader, accidents, forgetting to switch accounts, fangirling, flirting, meet cutes, cute relationship, sexual innuendoes

𖤓 Awakened desires [part 1] & [part 2] By @lexawoah13 Non-specified au, likely non-idol au, friends to lovers, smut, slight fluff, discussions of relationships, drunk moments

𖤓 Our little darling By @sophvilla Yeonjun x reader x Soobin, unspecified au, bf Yeonjun, best friend Soobin, smut, threesome

𖤓 Truth or drink! Engaged edition By @beom-pyu Part of a series, based on YouTube videos, answering questions, truth or drink game, fluff, suggestive comments

𖤓 Texts with bf!Soobin By @blue-jisungs SMAU, fluff, established relationship, slight suggestiveness, cuteness

𖤓 Lather By @jjunieworld 2.5k, smut, rich playboy!Soobin, strangers to hook-ups??, charity events, raising money, sexual innuendos, other girl idles as friends, bikini outfits

𖤓 Inexperienced!reader x soft dom!Soobin By @txtistheloml Established relationship, straight up smut, pwp, idea of corruption

[loveswrites]

Hi!🫶🏻

How are you? You haven't written in a long time. Btw, i really like your fics.

I was wondering if you could maybe write a poly!cullen x reader fic?

If you don't like it, you don't have to, of course🫶🏻

So I'm Tasty? Poly Cullens X Reader

Time it took me: 1 hour

Word count: 624 words

To Anon: Hey love! I'm doing lovely! Thank you for read my writing! I love when you guys tell me how much you like what I create! I wrote this one just for you. It might be a little short but I heard you guys miss me?

Love <3

“I’m better when I’m with you.” Jasper said, holding your hand as the two of you strolled through the woods. Well the eight of you. You and Jasper just separated yourselves from the group a little. 

“What do you mean?” You questioned looking up at him.

You were the one that had suggested that you guys go for a walk. You were feeling stuck in cluttered sitting inside of your own house all day. You much more preferred sitting in the Cullen's house rather than your own. 

“My thirst for human blood is easier to tame when I’m with you.” Jasper said, keeping his eyes front as you stepped on the wet wooded area.

“So what you're saying is I don’t smell good enough? I’m not intoxicating? I’m offended.” You pouted, crossing your arms. Hearing laughter next to you and a few laughs and snickers behind you made you turn around stopping in your tracks. 

“And why are you laughing?” You yelled slightly offended.

“You feel the same-” 

“Yes.” You were cut off as you continued.

“You think I wouldn't taste good!” You said pointing to each individual Cullen who each had a slight smile on their face. Their golden eyes look at you with so much amusement. 

“I actually think the opposite.” Emmett said, raising his hand.

“Me too, You humble our desire for you a little too much sweetheart.” Esme said, also raising her hand causing Carlisle to laugh a little.

“You were the first human in a long time. I didn't think I would be able to resist.” Rose said, raising her hand as well.

“You think this type of resistance is just here and easy?” Alice said, holding her hand high. 

“Though I would never ‘eat’ you, I’ve seen it.” She smiled. You shook your head as you smiled Alice always uses her powers to see a little further into the future to calm your nerves rather it’s because of a test or if a plane was going to blow up tomorrow. 

“You already know how I feel.” Edward said, raising his hand with a slight smirk on his face.

“I think what we meant was we also feel the same as in your presence. Your presence is so calming and relaxing to us that the urge to ‘Eat you’ As you say is buried deep inside.” Carlisle said, smiling at you. It’s like his Golden eyes shimmered every time you looked at him.

“But trust me it’s still there.” Jasper added, making you laugh immediately. Because as much as he loves you and you knew that for a fact. There are still some times when you can’t be around Jasper Because he hasn’t eaten for a few days.  

The rest of the Cullens nod in agreement to Jasper's words.

“So I am Tasty?” You questioned just wanting to confirm.

“Yes darling. Now let’s go.” Jasper said, throwing his arm around your waist guiding you to start back walking. The sun was creeping back down and with Vampires or not you never liked to just sit in the woods at night. 

“So hypothetically if I were to bake a cherry pie with just a little bit of blood you think you guys would notice?” You questioned walking with Jasper.

“Don’t do that.” 

“A cherry pie sounds good actually.”

“Immediately.”

“That doesn’t look like a good decision, please don’t make that.”

“I don’t think it counts as biting a human right?”

“That would break my no blood streak sadly.”

“You guys are no fun.” You pouted still thinking about it.

“Don’t make it!” Alice yelled.

“Why not!” You yelled back starting a bickering war all the way to the Cullens house.

 Something you loved to do with your anti blood lovers.

[raven-dor]

when you light the candle

in which gwayne hightower finds love in the arms of the targaryen heir, rhaenyra’s daughter

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader

WARNINGS: arranged marriage, allusion to slight nsfw, typical HOTD language, Aegon being a creep, fluff!!

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

AN: in this fic, viserys is dead and rhaenyra became queen (YAY) but her peaceful accession came with a price... also ages for gwayne and alicent are different because i thought it would be weird to have a huge disgusting age gap!!

“My dear-” Rhaenyra sighed. 

“I understand my duty as heir, Mother, but that does not mean I cannot express my grievances.” Her daughter crossed her arms. “You cannot blame me for being hesitant. A Hightower, really?” Her face contorted with disgust. “It feels as if I am being condemned to death.” 

“Y/N…” Rhaenyra fought the urge to laugh. She often forgot how alike she and her daughter were. “My darling girl, I am sorry, truly, but our kingdom needs stability, and this marriage will see to that. You must-” 

“Like I said earlier,” Y/N snapped back, sitting down rather unladylike. “I understand, no need to explain it any further.” 

“Yes well… for what it is worth, I have heard he is a rather kind man.” Rhaenyra scoffed, plucking a grape off the vine. “Shocking for a knight, I think.” 

Y/N smiled to herself, staring into the distance. “I seem to remember one such knight.” 

While her daughter may have resembled her in personality and stature, much like her brothers, Y/N was the spitting image of her father. “He was very kind, yes.” Rhaenyra sat beside the young woman, pushing a stray hair behind her ear gently. “And loving.” She whispered. “Your father loved you very much.” 

Y/N nodded. “I know, Mother.” Holding her hand, she smiled. “He loved you just as much.” 

Rhaenyra could not find it in herself to speak, simply nodding. 

Y/N straightened her dress for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour, or at least that is what it felt like for Jacaerys, who was watching in amusement. 

“I fear if you pull on your fabric anymore, it will fall off.” 

She rolled her eyes, shoving her brother harshly. “When you are of age and put on display for all the eligible young ladies to gawk and stare at, tell me, dear brother, how calm and collected you feel then.” 

“Nervous?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “It is showing, I must say.”

“For the entirety of the court to judge me for this ridiculous dress?” She jutted her hip, glaring. “Not in the slightest.” 

He sighed, extending his arm for her to hold as the grand doors opened. He leaned over whispering in her ear comfortingly. “You’re a dragon, sister. Do not forget it.” 

Taking a deep breath, she stood as straight as possible, smiling like she hadn’t just been spiraling. “Quite a lot of green in this crowd.” Y/N muttered, waving politely as she passed her subjects. 

Jacaerys scoffed. “I expect you’ll be seeing much more in the coming weeks now that you’re marrying a Hightower.” 

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes, pinching his arm discreetly. He hissed, and she laughed as their mother watched from the high table, suppressing a grin. Bowing before their mother, step father, and the Dowager Queen, both tried to sneak a peek at her husband to be. 

Y/N smiled as they stood upright. “Your Majesties.” 

Alicent smiled half-heartedly. It was better than nothing, she supposed. Her brothers did not receive the same treatment, the smiles, the ‘good will’. The Dowager Queen had always had a soft spot for Y/N. 

Why, she had no idea. 

Taking their place beside their mother, Rhaenyra stood, addressing the crowd. “It was not long ago that I myself was in this position. Marriage is work, marriage is patience. Fortunately, my daughter seems to have much more patience than I.” Laughter fell over the crowd, and Rhaenyra gestured toward the Dowager Queen and her family that sat beside her. “Our houses have long been allies, and I am glad to continue that tradition with this union.” She raised her glass, smiling at her daughter as she spoke. “May their marriage be blessed!” 

The crowd raised their glasses in unison, cheering for the Princess, who was smiling brightly, the very picture of nobility and duty. None of them knew the truth: how she really had no idea who she was marrying or what exactly she was getting into. 

After what felt like minutes of applause, Y/N sat down, indulging herself in a rather full cup of mead. “My lady.” She turned around, her breath catching at the sight of the man in front of her. 

He was quite tall, and handsome. 

“I wanted to introduce myself.” 

She smiled, setting her glass down. “You must be Lord Hightower.” 

He nodded. “You are quite intuitive.” 

Oh. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Or observant. It does not take a mastermind to see the resemblance between you and your sister.” 

That was the other thing she could not get passed. Yes, she was two and twenty, practically an old maid, but did that really mean she could get married off to a man only two years younger than her mother? 

Lord Hightower did not look disheartened. If anything, her resistance to his ‘charm’ made him more intrigued. “I wonder, my lady, if I could interest you in a dance?” 

Y/N smiled, annoyance all but rolling off of her shoulders. “I believe-” 

Rhaenyra cut in, staring at her daughter with an intensity that rivaled her dragon. “I’m sure the Princess would be delighted to dance with you, Ser Gwayne.” 

“Yes.” Y/N smiled tightly. “I would love to.”

Gwayne extended his hand, bowing his head, slightly. “My lady.” 

She took his hand, following him to the dance floor. The rest of the nobility followed after, the waltz gently playing in the background as they moved around the room. Gwayne leaned down, whispering in her ear. “You seem rather upset with this arrangement, Princess.” 

She tried not to scowl. “I am merely upset that yet another choice of my life has been decided for me.” Her eyes widening, realizing she had just told her husband to be something she had only told her family. “I-” 

He smiled, shaking his head. “Do not apologize to me. If I were in your position, I would be equally as frustrated, perhaps more.” He whispered again. “I’m rather passionate about these sorts of things.” 

The Princess raised an eyebrow, curious. “You are passionate about what exactly?” 

“Anything you are.” He spun her around, laughing at her flushed cheeks. “I plan to be very supportive of my wife, unlike many of my peers.” 

Her heart fluttered, but her face told a different story. “How… kind of you ser.” 

Jace squinted his eyes, glaring at the Hightower man. “I don’t trust him, mother.” 

Rhaenyra laughed, appreciative of her son’s protectiveness. “You must know Jacaerys, that I would never match your sister with a man I did not consider to be of high moral character.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe me cruel?” 

“No.” Jace shook his head, looking back to the man charming his sister. Or, trying to at the very least. “But still…” 

He hadn’t even kissed her on the lips. It kept racing through her mind as she sat front and center at her reception. At their reception. He hadn’t even kissed her on the lips. She had been walked up the aisle by her brother, stood beside him, prepared herself, and he kissed her on the corner of her mouth. 

What sort of kiss was that?

She was confused, unbelievably confused.

“Are you alright, Princess?” Gwayne whispered. 

She nodded, not knowing whether to feel offended or relieved at his hesitation. “Fine.” 

“Do you need a moment? Perhaps we can-” 

Of course. He wanted to retire and start the bedding process. She almost scoffed in his face. “I need to find my mother.” She didn’t wait for a response, standing up and walking into the crowd. Her mother was fixed in the back of the room, talking with Baela and Jace. Y/N approached her mother, hooking her arm through hers. “May I talk to you?” She gestured toward the two teenagers. “Alone.” 

Rhaenyra nodded slowly, shooing the young couple away. “Are you alright?” 

“I-” Y/N pulled her mother to a secluded area of the hall. “He wants to retire.” 

“He wants to-” The older woman’s face dawned with realization. “I see.” 

Y/N nodded. “I-” She gulped, whispering. “I’m scared, Mother.” 

Rhaenyra smiled, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. “My sweet girl. Don’t be frightened. Truly.” She pulled away, placing a comforting hand on her cheek. “He will not touch you until you are ready, I am most certain of it.” 

“Mother, he is a lord, like any other we’ve come to know. He will-” 

“Do you trust me?” Rhaenyra whispered. 

Y/N nodded, grasping her mother’s hand tightly. “Of course I do.” 

“Then trust me once more. Your husband is a good man, and he will not touch you unless you…” She paused. “He will not touch you, unless that is what you wish.” 

Ah.

Y/N felt torn. He was attractive, she had to admit, and kind enough. But still, she hadn’t wanted to… not again. She squeezed her eyes shut, murmuring under her breath. “He’ll, he’ll find out-” 

She had put her trust in the wrong squire. She was only ten and five and he was sweet, or so she thought. She'd trusted him, and he had used her for his moment of fame, a way to coerce the Royal Family. Daemon had gone manic when he had found out, and the squire… Rhaenyra shook her head. “He will never know unless you choose to tell him.” 

Y/N nodded, smiling weakly. “Goodnight, Mother.” Spinning on her heels, she stalked toward the main table, standing in front of Gwayne. “Shall we?” 

Her husband looked shocked but still nodded. The crowd started jeering, laughing, and making comments about the Princess’s eagerness. That hadn’t made her disturbed.

What disturbed her was that in a few moments, the entirety of the royal court would all be in their shared quarters, watching the bedding ceremony. 

It had been a silent walk, neither of them making an attempt to speak to the other. The maid’s eyes all but fell out of their sockets when they saw the Princess burst through their doors, Lord Hightower diligently following three paces behind her. 

Gwayne had sensed his wife was an anxious woman the moment they’d met, but tonight, that anxiety was pouring off of her in waves. He smiled kindly at the servants, dismissing them from their work. “That will be all for tonight, thank you.” They scurried out, leaving the pair alone for the first time. He looked curiously at the young woman, who was pacing around the room. Taking a careful step toward her, he spoke softly. “Are you quite alright, my lady?” 

“Why-” She stopped, staring at him. “You didn’t kiss me.” 

“I-” 

“I understand that I am quite homely compared to the beauties of Oldtown, but…” She shook her head, stalking toward him with an accusing finger pointed. “You embarrassed me at my own wedding. The least you could have done-” 

“You are not homely, my lady.” He reached a hand out, caressing her cheek. “Quite the opposite really.” 

She tensed, pulling out of his touch. “You Hightowers- you’re always planning something. I am the heir to the Iron Throne, and you would treat me as a common woman, not worthy of your love or respect. Even if I wasn’t heir, you should never treat a woman-”

She was quite beautiful, he’d noticed. Watching her rant about his family filled his heart with something he couldn’t quite place. Her eyes were passionate, full of fire and drive. Her hair was quite beautiful while it was down, so dark and full.

“Are you- are you even listening to me?” 

Gods, she had caught him staring. “I-” 

“I’m sure you are fantasizing about how you will take me during the bedding ceremony, but I assure you, this will be the most uninteresting moment of our married life. Hopefully, I will embarrass you as much as you embarrassed me.” She crossed her arms, satisfied with her dig at his supposed thoughts. While he struggled to find the words to respond, she began to remove her clothes, remaining covered by her thin slip. 

His cheeks grew red, and he raised his eyebrows, trying not to combust. “Bedding ceremony?” Gwayne coughed. His voice sounded as if it was being squeezed.

“Are you playing dumb?” She scoffed. “I am sure you have been to plenty a poor maiden’s wedding night.” 

He tilted his head, thoroughly confused. “I’m sorry if you have been led astray, but there is to be no bedding ceremony.”

“Ah.” She somehow felt… disappointed? “My mother saved me that embarrassment at least.” 

“Well, it was actu-” She stormed past him, slipping on her robe and slippers. “Where are you going?” 

“Away from you. I don’t trust you not to-” 

While she was stunningly beautiful and quickly driving him into a stupor, he could not stand by and let her assume the worst of him. “Listen to me when I say this- I do not ever wish to embarrass you. Ever. It was I who denied the bedding ceremony. The ‘men’ of the court brought the proposition to me, and when I denied them…” His eyes became dark. “That is a disgusting and vile tradition, one that I do not wish to practice.” 

She felt warm, and caught herself smiling. Shaking her head, she pulled her robe closer to her body. “You- you vex me.” 

He laughed, stepping closer to her, a smirk gracing his handsome face. “You vex me just as much.” He held her hand, kissing the back gently. “My lady.” 

“You-” She growled, stomping her foot like a child. “Good night my lord.” Whipping around, she practically flew out the door, leaving Gwayne alone in their chambers.

Saying farewell had proven to be much more difficult than she had thought. But wearing green… she felt like an imposter. She looked down the line, forcing herself not to laugh at Aegon’s fresh black eye. He refused to make eye contact with her, she could not figure out why. The only Greens she had bothered saying goodbye to were Helaena and the Dowager Queen, ignoring her two uncles. They never cared for each other, if anything, she would be glad to be rid of their presence. 

Her brothers stood in a row, each growing sadder as she approached them. Aegon and Viserys did not understand why she was leaving, too young to understand the impact this would have on their family. Joffrey was visibly melancholy, clinging to his sister tightly. He whispered, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Don’t leave me.” 

Y/N smiled, kneeling down to be eye level with her little brother. “I will never leave you, Joff. I’ll visit you often, I promise.” She kissed his cheek gently, standing back up, approaching the two eldest. “Behave yourselves.” They looked at her with watery eyes and stoic faces. “Take care of Mother and the boys. I expect-” They both lunged forward, hugging her tightly. She laughed, ruffling their hair. “It will be alright. I’ll be back.” 

Luke’s face was wet, and he mumbled into the fabric of her dress. “No you won’t.” 

She scoffed. “I will. You just wait and see.” 

Jace let go, crossing his arms accusingly. “You’ll be busy, I imagine. Taking care of your family.” 

Y/N reached out, grasping his hand tightly. “You are my family. Always. I will always be your sister, you can confide in me until we are old and grey. The city of Oldtown is always open to you.” 

She looked back to Gwayne, who nodded firmly, stepping forward to address the princes. “She is correct. Visit whenever you like.” He looked to Y/N, whispering. “We should depart soon.” 

She nodded, looking back to her siblings. “I must leave.” 

Lucerys let go, wiping away the leftover tears that clung to his cheeks. “I’ll write to you.” 

She smiled. “Nothing would please me more.” 

Gwayne held his arm out, but Y/N ignored him, approaching Jacaerys carefully. “I will miss you.” 

He nodded, staring at the ground. “And I you.” 

“Jace,” she sighed. “I do not wish to leave you upset.”

“I am not upset.” He scoffed. 

She laughed, shaking her head affectionately. “I suppose your watery eyes are simply a result of hay fever.” 

His shoulders shook slightly, a smile peeking out from behind his frown. “Have a safe trip sister.” 

She nodded, kissing his forehead gently. “You will be one for the history books, I know it.”

Taking Gwayne’s arm, she looked back at her family one last time before entering the carriage.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

He smiled. “Whatever for?” 

“I know you hit Aegon.” She crossed her arms, smirking. “I assume he was one of the ‘men’ who asked you about the bedding ceremony. Am I right?” He nodded. “That is quite noble of you.” 

His cheeks grew red. “Merely protecting your honor, my lady.” 

She smiled, reaching her hand out, holding his hand for a moment. “You are a much better man than most.” 

“It is not hard to do…” He whispered, his eyes kind. “When one has you as a wife.”

Oldtown had done nothing for the couple’s relationship, if anything, it had dwindled it back down into the nothingness it once was. Gwayne was busy running the city in the wake of his uncle’s death, and Y/N, she knew no one. After becoming the Lady Hightower, her old ladies in waiting were taken away, as she was now too low of a position to house that many young ladies for ‘seemingly no reason.’ That had made no sense to her. She was heir to the Iron Throne, how was she at ‘too low of a position?’ Still…

She was utterly alone. 

She had tried to make an effort, at first. Gwayne had appreciated it, (as evident from his words at dinner), but he was constantly busy, off in meetings or dealing with skirmishes in the city. Perusing the halls of the castle had passed the time for the first fortnight of her arrival. She loved the way the tower seemingly never ended, even when she reached the attic. It felt infinite, full of new corridors she’d never seen before. 

That too grew tiring. 

It began to feel so when she came to know the halls of the tower as well as the back of her own hand. 

After a rather dreary morning, she meticulously planned her escape. Sneaking away from the watchful eye of her assigned guards, she raced towards the stable, mounting her horse and galloping through the great gates. The citizens of Oldtown stared, murmuring about their new lady. Y/N laughed, not caring to think of their opinions as long as the breeze ran through her hair and the sun shone on her face. The surrounding land smelled fresh, unlike that of King’s Landing. She had no real destination, following the well traveled path until she reached a clearing. Tying her horse to a nearby tree, she strolled down the hill, meeting the most tranquil scene she’d ever been graced with in her life. A large lake, rivaling that of the ocean, laid before her, a small island in the middle of it all. 

She removed her robe and garments, haphazardly tossing them on a nearby log. Practically falling into the lake, the water quieted the world around her. A sort of gargled voice rang through the peaceful quiet and she jumped, standing up in the lake to meet her husband's wide eyes. 

“My lord.” She smiled weakly. 

“A guard informed me that my wife was last seen racing out of Oldtown’s gates.” His voice held a sort of humor. “Naturally, I had to investigate the incident myself.” 

She laughed, clutching herself for warmth. “I am sorry if I worried you.” 

He shook his head. “There is no need to apologize, my lady.” He picked up her robe, extending his hand. She took it gratefully, wrapping the warm cloth around her. “In fact, no one would fault you if you had left. If that is in fact-” 

“No!” She yelled, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. “I meant…” She stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. “I am quite content, my lord. I wanted respite. From the tower.” 

He nodded, holding her hand in his. “You are shivering.” 

“I am quite fine, my lord.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I have never known shivering to end in any sort of ‘fine,’ my lady.” He smiled, extending his arm. “Shall we?” 

The couple walked in silence for a moment, enjoying each other's presence. Y/N looked up, clearing her throat. “May I request something of you?” 

Gwayne nodded eagerly. “Anything.” 

Y/N smiled, warmth blooming inside of her chest. “Call me by my name, please. I don’t think I can go another day being addressed as my lady.” She whispered, staring at the ground. “It is quite formal, is it not? For a husband and wife, that is.” 

“I would like that.” Gwayne smiled, lifting her chin with a single finger. “As long as you call me by mine in return.” 

She nodded, fighting the blush that threatened to form. He was rather beautiful, with his freckles and long hair. “I believe that can be arranged.” 

“Gwayne!” She called out for what felt like the fifth time. She had missed his company in truth, and hadn’t seen him in what felt like weeks. (It had been a mere day.)

“Gwayne?” She pushed open a cracked door, grinning. “Are you-” She frowned. The room was empty, except for a portrait. She felt pulled forward, walking further into the room. The woman was stern looking, but beautiful, there was no doubt in her mind. The portraits eyes were bright blue, piercing the very soul who dared to look back at her. 

“I see you found my mother.” 

Y/N clutched her chest, whipping around. “You frightened me!” 

He laughed, walking forward and kissing the back of her hand gently. “I apologize.” His tone was soft, quiet as a mouse. “Did I truly scare you?” 

She shook her head, their eyes locked in a dangerous embrace. "So this is your mother?” 

He nodded, turning towards the portrait. “My father commissioned it mere months before she died.” He smiled, tightening his hold on her hand. “When I was younger, I would find him in here, staring at her likeness." He laughed to himself. "They were quite the couple.” 

“I’m sure you miss her terribly.” 

Gwayne’s shoulders tensed. “In truth, it has been so long that I have forgotten what her presence felt like.” 

That had made her frown even more. “I understand.” 

He nodded. “It is difficult. Trying to remember a parent you hardly knew.” 

Y/N’s eyes watered. “Quite.” Taking a deep breath, she turned towards her husband, her voice low. “You look like the very image of her. Your mother.” 

He smiled. “Is that a compliment, dear wife?” 

She blushed, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could. “She is quite beautiful.” 

“Ah.” Gwayne was now fully grinning. “The same could be said about you.” 

Her blush vanished, and she shoved him away, rolling her eyes playfully. “Do not tease me, Gwayne Hightower.” 

His hand grasped his heart, following after her like a lost puppy. “I would never.” 

The Oldtown Library was the very picture of tranquility. Lord and Lady Hightower had chosen to take advantage of the quiet day, and had been simply enjoying each other’s company for hours. It was so rare to have this time together, and Y/N enjoyed knowing that at any moment, she could call out to her husband and he would answer. 

She hoped he felt the same.

Her legs ached, having been in this position for so long had caused one of them to go numb. Stretching her legs, she walked over to the bookshelf, scouring for a novel she had read in King’s Landing. She groaned, crossing her arms in annoyance. Of course, the novel was on the tallest shelf. 

Reaching up, she made herself as tall as possible, but it was no use. She huffed, whipping around to ask Gwayne for help. 

It was like he had already read her mind, because she ran into his solid chest, gasping at the sudden impact. She knew her cheeks were bright red, but she still looked up at his piercing gaze.

He smirked, whispering. “Would you like some help?” 

“I-” She bit her lip. “My book. I fear it is too high for me to reach.” 

“I believe…” He reached up, staring at her all the while. “That I can be of some assistance.” The book was in his grasp, but she made no move to pull it out of his hands. 

“Thank you.” She whispered back. Her back was now fully against the bookshelf, Gwayne inches away from her. “Are you- Are you quite alright, my lord?” 

Gods, she was perfection itself, her tone sending shivers down his spine. “What have I told you about calling me my lord?” He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “As of late, I find myself…” 

She nodded, eager for him to continue. “Yes?” 

“I- I find myself wanting for you. Wanting to be near you, wanting to feel your touch…” He laughed. “It is quite intoxicating. You have captivated me, body and soul.” 

She felt as if her very skin was on fire. Her heart skipped, Gods, is this what marriage was like? She wanted to capture his lips against hers and bring him to bed. “Gwayne… I-” Of course, doubts flew through her mind. How many women had he said this to before? How many more would he say this to during their marriage? “You do not mean that.” 

“I-” He tilted his head. “I do not mean that you have-”

“I am not… you don’t-” Her eyes started to tear up. “Gwayne, I am not-” 

He leaned down, capturing her in a passionate kiss. Her eyes widened, and she sighed, falling into his arms, which tightened around her waist every moment they kissed. “You are. Gods, if I could worship you, I would-” 

She placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. “Do not say such things.” 

He removed her finger from her mouth, kissing her hand gently. “You will find, dear wife, that I am not a liar. You are as divine as the-” 

Her finger found its way back over his lips. She laughed at his expression, still as calm and patient as the day she met him. There was something new however, a passion she hadn’t seen before. “You- Do you have any idea the things I-” She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself to be brave. “Just-” She surged forward, pulling him back down into her lips. 

His eyes widened, but he did not fight her, if anything, he had pulled her closer. His arms felt perfect around her waist, she’d thought as his thumb caressed her ribcage. He pulled away from her lips, whispering. “What have I done to deserve you?” 

She sucked a breath in. “I- I need to go.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, loosening his grip. “Are you alright?” 

“I just-” She nodded, smiling weakly. “I have a meeting with Lady Redwyne, she-” She turned away, walking towards the door. “Have a good evening, My lord.”

Avoiding your husband was not for the faint of heart. Or so she had told herself as she actively avoided her own. Out of embarrassment or lack of self control, she didn’t know. She felt overwhelmed by his affection for her, overwhelmed when he looked at her with that passionate gaze that made her knees shake. In a moment of weakness (some would say loneliness), she caved, storming into his chambers. It was the middle of the night, the air chilly as she pulled the robe closer to her body. Perhaps she should have made herself more appeasing, but she hadn’t cared. 

She stood by his fireplace, pacing back and forth as she waited for him to return. Her mind started to wonder, where was he at this late hour? She couldn’t blame him, many husbands strayed from their wives.

“Y/N?” 

She straightened her posture, facing him hesitantly. “Gwayne.” 

“Is everything alright? Are you-” He paused, his eyes taking in her figure. “Did you walk through the tower like this?” 

“I-” She smiled weakly. “It was merely from my chambers to yours. I- I made certain no one…” Her voice grew quieter as he walked closer. “Saw me.” He said nothing, and her resolve began to crumble. “I know this is unexpected, but please. Say something- anything would-”

“You look… ravishing.” He swallowed, eyes trained on her. “What have I done to deserve this beauty before me?” 

She gulped, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped. “I thought I would apologize. For my absence as of late.” 

“Ah.” He nodded, inches away from her. “While I can admit I’ve missed your presence, there is nothing to apologize for.” He looked over her figure once more, lazily draping an arm over her waist. “Have I told you you look ravishing?” 

She nodded, crossing her arms. “Yes, you have. I have not barged into your room to be made a fool.” 

“You have not made yourself a fool.” He pulled her closer, a gasp leaving her lips. “I am the fool.”

“How are you-” He lunged down, pulling her lips to his. 

“I now realize that I have not made you aware of how beautiful you are.” He shook his head, walking them toward the bed. “Allow me to show you.”

“Gwayne! What-” He threw her on the bed, hovering over her. 

“You are as radiant as the sun.” He pulled the ties of her robe slowly, heart hammering at the mere thought of her. “You are-” 

“Wait.” She stopped, sitting up. “Can I-” 

He nodded. “Have I-” 

She climbed his waist, straddling him in an instant. Her hand found her way to his cheek, caressing it softly as she whispered. “I wanted to say that I- I find myself wanting you too.” 

He grinned, pulling her close. “I’m glad.” Her robe barely hid her figure, with both shoulders fallen and the rest being held up by sheer will. She leaned her forehead against his, pulling at the robe until it gave way. “You-” 

Her cheeks were bright red, but she did not break eye contact with him, leaning in closer with each passing second. “Gwayne…” 

“Yes?” He whispered, their lips inches apart. 

“I know husbands stray… from their wives. But may you-” She leaned closer to his lips, whispering back. "May you pretend I am the only one?” 

His eyes widened, and he laughed. “Oh, my darling girl.” He kissed down her neck, around her face, everywhere, smiling as she giggled from his affection. “You will always be the only one. Trust me.”

Her heart skipped. "I do."

"Good." He grinned, leaning forward. "Good."

The sun peeked through the curtains, streaming over the couple. Their legs were tangled together, their arms haphazardly thrown over the other, dead to the world. 

Or rather, Gwayne was dead to the world. Y/N watched her husband sleep, staring at his beautiful face, trying to commit it to memory. His freckles were light, but very much visible this close. She reached up, gently pushing his hair out of his eyes. Kissing his forehead gently, she rolled over so she could begin her day. 

Gwayne's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into his chest. “And just where are you off to?” 

She laughed, turning in his arms to face him once more. “You’re awake.” 

He nuzzled his face into the pillow, groaning. “I must say, I’m quite surprised you are.” 

She scoffed, hitting his chest indignantly. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He looked up, smirking. “You were asleep before I could-” 

She slapped a hand over his mouth. “You are much too bold this morning, ser.” 

“Ser?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling her with him as he rolled over, causing a symphony of laughter to leave her. “I beg you, do not ever call me ser again.” 

“If you insist.” She giggled, kissing his neck gently. “My lord.” 

He hummed, closing his eyes. “You are glowing, did you know?” 

“That would be the morning sun, my dear.” Y/N smirked. 

He shook his head, his face serious. “You are always glowing.” A hand caressed her cheek, resting on her jaw as he stared. “As beautiful as the summer breeze.” 

“Gwayne…” She knew her cheeks were bright red. “You flatter me.” 

“No.” He shook his head. “It is the truth.” Looming over her now, he kissed down her neck. “Say it.” 

“Say what?” She whispered. 

“Say you are beautiful and I shall stop.” 

“But…” She gasped as he pulled the sheet down to reveal her figure. “What if I do not want you to stop?” 

“Well then…” Gwayne smirked. “We are at a stand still.” 

She shook her head, pulling him toward her. “No, we are not.”

He grinned. “Then say it.” 

“I-” She gulped, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck as he trailed down her frame once more. “I’m beautiful.”  

Kings Landing felt different, she had told herself while they walked into her mother’s birthday dinner. Perhaps it was the fact that she was walking through her childhood home with her husband, but she felt confident, prideful even. It was a small, intimate gathering, with only her and Gwayne’s family present. 

And by Gwayne’s family, she meant his sister. 

The seating arrangements could not have been more unfortunate, with Y/N sitting opposite of her despicable uncle. 

“I must say…” Aegon whispered. “It is so nice to see you returned a woman grown.” He leaned forward, smirking. “Perhaps later…” 

Y/N scowled. “I dare you to finish that sentence.” 

Rhaenyra smiled, standing up and addressing her family. “It warms my heart to have my family gathered for this celebration.” She looked over at her daughter, eyes watering ever so slightly. “Thankfully, my firstborn, my heir, was also able to be in attendance.” She raised her glass. “I’m glad you were able to join us. It has been too long, my darling.” 

Y/N laughed. “It has hardly been five moons since my departure, Mother.” 

“Yes, well…” Rhaenyra sat down, looking over at Gwayne. “How does my daughter fare in Oldtown?” 

“Wonderfully, Your Majesty.” He looked down at his wife, smiling brightly. “She is the perfect Lady Hightower, I must say.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smacking his arm playfully. “You flatter me, Husband.” 

“I am merely telling the truth.” Gwayne laughed. “I dare say we have not had such a Lady since my dear mother.” 

Alicent’s face dropped, and Y/N smacked his arm harder. “Gwayne…” 

Aegon leaned across the table, sneering at his Uncle. “I must say, I’m quite surprised to see you so inexplicably happy. I’ve heard she can be quite the-” 

Jace slammed his fist on the table, silencing the room. “Watch your mouth.” 

The platinum blonde sat back, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m merely enlightening my Uncle, Jace.” 

“Why don’t you-” 

“It is quite alright, Jace.” Y/N hissed, smiling lightly. “It was a jest.” Gwayne grabbed her hand under the table, caressing the back gently.

Aegon looked unsatisfied. “All I meant to say is that I’m quite surprised you have found love in such a short time.” He looked over at Gwayne, wiggling his eyebrows. “Is she rather-”  

It was now Y/N’s turn to slam her fist on the table. Standing up, she glared at her Uncle, grasping Gwayne’s hand tightly. “I am sorry, Uncle, that you do not know what it is to respect your spouse. I am also sorry that you wouldn’t know love if it stood right in front of you.” She gulped, realizing the entirety of her family was now staring at her. “My husband is a good man, unlike the tales I have heard of you and my poor Aunt. Gwayne is kind and caring and-” She huffed. “I have never loved someone more. I pity you, I really do. Never knowing what true unconditional love feels like because you deny yourself every chance of happiness.” Sitting back down quickly, she grabbed her wine, taking a large drink. Her mother stared, a hand over her mouth that Y/N could only assume was holding back laughter. Her brothers looked shocked, shocked that she was so defensive over a man she hardly knew. 

But she did know him, and he knew her much better than anyone. The chatter started up soon after, but she was frozen in her seat, refusing to see her husband’s reaction. She had never- 

She looked up, jumping when she met his eyes immediately. “I’m sorry if I-” 

Gwayne stood up, grabbing her hand. “Follow me.” 

“Gwayne.” She hissed, “They’re staring-” He walked out of the room, refusing to acknowledge the prying eyes of their family. “Gwayne, I’m sorry if I upset you. I just- I couldn't take it anymore. He drives me-”

Pulling her into their shared chambers, he slammed the door behind him. She walked out of his hold, hugging herself as she watched him stare at her. “Say something, please. I truly am… I am sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” 

He stalked forward, grabbing her face and pulling her to him. Her eyes widened, knees weakening at the passion that exuded from his kiss. They stayed latched to each other for what seemed like minutes, ignoring the world around them. 

“You are an angel, I am convinced.” 

Y/N laughed. “I love you.” 

Gwayne grinned, kissing her quickly. “I love you much more, my love.” 

She shook her head, basking in his affection. “I do not think that is possible.” 

He groaned, laying his head on her shoulder. “Must we go back to dinner?” 

She nodded, raking her fingers through his hair. “I’m afraid so.” 

He shook his head. “Your mother will have to forgive me.” 

She laughed. “For what, my love?” 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder. “I must spend time with my lovely wife at this very moment, or I shall combust.” 

Y/N giggled, smacking his back. “Gwayne!” 

He threw her on the bed, laughing at her flushed cheeks. “You are simply divine.” Crawling up to her lips like a lion to its prey, he practically growled. “I could stare at you for hours.” 

Y/N smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck as she whispered. “Perhaps you could show me how divine I am instead.”

“I believe, dear wife…” He pulled the string at the front of her dress, removing her topcoat. “That can be arranged.” 

taglist: @beebeechaos @i-padfootblack-things

[yrluvjane]

HI LOVE

so

Can i get a Sirius black x fem reader where maybe something happens that is subtle and she gets uncharacteristically jealous and tries to hide it and sirius catches up and reassures her with a million hugs and kisses?

You were at another one of James and Lily's parties, the kind where everyone you knew and loved gathered in one place to celebrate life. The evening was filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. You were enjoying yourself, chatting with Marlene and Alice, when you noticed a strikingly beautiful woman making her way over to Sirius.

She was all smiles and charm, her hand resting on Sirius's arm as she spoke. You knew it was silly, but either way jealousy twisted in your stomach.

Sirius was always friendly, and you trusted him completely. But something about the way this woman leaned in close, her fingers trailing down his arm, made your heart clench uncomfortably.

You tried to shake it off, focusing on your conversation and forcing yourself to laugh at Marlene's jokes. But your eyes kept drifting back to Sirius, watching as the woman continued to monopolize his attention. You felt a tight knot of insecurity forming, a rare feeling for you.

Her dress. Her hair. Her charm.

Sirius' laugh

Finally, unable to take it any longer, you excused yourself from Marlene and Alice and made your way over to Sirius. As you approached, you heard the woman laugh, her hand still resting on his arm. The way you wished to break all her perfectly manicured fingers was terrifying.

"Hi, love," you said loudly, stepping in between them and slipping your arm around Sirius's waist. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Sirius looked surprised but quickly recovered, a smile spreading across his face. "Not at all, darling. This is Liz, an old acquaintance from school, Ravenclaw."

Liz's smile faltered slightly as she looked at you, but she quickly regained her composure. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," you replied, your tone a bit sharper than you intended. "Sirius, I was just thinking we should go find James and Lily. They've been asking about us."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the demand through your eyes. "Sure, love. Liz, it was nice catching up."

But before you could turn to leave, you reached up and pulled Sirius into a deep, passionate kiss, right in front of 'Liz '. He stiffened in surprise for a moment, then relaxed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you. You could feel his smile against your lips, his surprise giving way to pleasure.

When you finally pulled back, Sirius was looking at you with a mixture of amusement and amazement. "Wow," he said, his voice low. "Not that I'm complaining, but what brought that on?....Ohh, were you jealous? My, oh my."

At your glare, he's hand ran up and down your arm, "She's got nothing on you."

You glanced over at Liz, who was watching with a slightly stunned expression. "Just wanted to make sure everyone knows you're mine," you said, your voice a bit more confident than you felt as you pecked his jaw.

As you rejoined your friends, Sirius couldn’t resist leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You know,” he whispered, a playful glint in his eyes, “I’m not sure if that one kiss was enough to fully convince.”

You looked up at him, eyebrow raised. “Oh? And what exactly are you suggesting?”

Sirius grinned, that mischievous spark lighting up his expression. “I think you might need to prove your point again. Just to be...thorough.”

Before you could respond, he gently tugged you back into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a deep, lingering kiss. You could feel him smiling against your lips, clearly enjoying every second of it.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were soft but filled with that familiar Sirius Black playfulness. “There. How’s that for a reminder that I'm the only one for you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a warmth spreading through your chest. “Alright, alright. We've made our point.”

He grabbed you face with both palms and placed a sloppy kiss on your nose. “Good. But just so you know, I’m always up for proving it again. If you ever feel like these losers need another reminder.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, Sirius was yours, and that was all that mattered.

[footballfanficwriter]

Dinner with the Bellinghams

Summary:After being in Madrid for a long time, Denise has invited Jude,reader and their kids for Dinner

"Are you happy to be home?" I ask Jude

"Yeah, It's been such a long time"

We're in England, after not being here for such a long time and it's been some  time since the kids have seen their grandparents

"I'm so excited to taste nan's Chicken Roast, it's been such a long time" Alice says

"Or her creamy mashed potatoes" Alicia replies

I turn to Jude and he smiles at me

"Are we there yet?" they both ask

"That's the tenth time you've both asked that" Jude replies

A sigh is heard from behind the both of us

"We're almost there" I reply

we finally arrive and decide to park In the driveway

The minute the car stops Alice attempts to open the door, but stops remembering that it's child locked

"Dad can you please open the door"

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming"

I make my way out the car and walk to Alicia's side and open the door as Jude does the Same for Alice

The minute the doors open the girls race eachother to the front door and wait patiently for the Jude and I too arrive

Jude knocks on the door and after a minute the door opens to reveal Mark

"GRANDAD" the girls scream and tackling his legs

"My gosh look who it is, you've both grown so much, you lot are gonna be as tall as me one day"

The girls giggle and Jude and I step forward to hug Mark, Jude being the first amongst the two of us

"Hi dad, how are you" Jude says as he steps forward for a hug

"I'm good, just happy you guys are here" Mark replies pulling away from the hug and turning towards me

I step forward for a hug

"You've always been my favourite, between you and Jude" he whispers into my ear

I laugh at his comment

"How are you?" I ask

"Good, you know how it is here, a mad house"

"I'm sure it can't be that bad"

He releases a slight chuckle

"You're about to witness it first hand"

I give him a confused look but don't get to ask what he means

"Alright, come in everybody" Mark says and picks the girls up each resting on one arm and we follow behind

"Grandad, do the Magic trick" Alicia says

"What magic trick?"

"The one you always do, c'mon"

He places the girls down and squats to their level

"Alright", he reaches behind Alice's ear and pulls out a sweet(candy)

"Have you been cleaning your ears lately? He asks her

Alice giggles

"Do me next grandad" Alicia says

"Alright"

He reaches behind her ear and pulls out a coin

"My Gosh, I'm quiet certain that you lot have not been cleaning you ears lately"

Both girls giggle and Denise comes down the stairs

"Are those my favourite girls I hear?"

"NANA"

"Hello my Darlings, My goodness you both have grown so much"

"That's what grandad said"

"Well he was right look at you"

I walk towards her and come in for a hug

"Hi Mom, you alright?"

"Yeah, great, you still need to tell me about you know what"

"Oh yeah, I'll tell you much later"

"Ok"

I step away  and Jude steps forward and greets her

After the greetings, Alicia asks a question

"Did you make your chicken roast" Alicia asked

"And your creamy Mashed potatoes?" Alice asked

"Well actually, Your Uncle Jobe made dinner today"

"What?" Jude and I ask

"Yep, he didn't have any help as well"

"Lord have mercy" Jude says

"Oh c'mon I'm sure it won't that bad, right?" I ask

"Yeah, let's be positive, we don't know how it will turn out" Denise says

And in that moment Jobe walks out of the Kitchen and wipes his hands on the apron

"Hello everyone glad we're all here, Dinner is nearly ready" He says dressed like one of those chefs from ratatouille

"What are you wearing" Jude asks

"My chef outfit, it's great right?" Jobe asks

Jude looks at me with a smirk and I hit his bicept

"Be nice" I say

"Fine"

"Ok if you'd all just make your way to the dining room" Jobe says

We Make our way to the dining room, take our seats and patiently wait for Jobe to lay the food on the table

When he finally does we all look at it in horror

"Bon appetit, dig in"

Nobody moves

A sigh is heard next to me coming from Jude

"Guys, dinner is served" Jobe says with a bright smile

"Right, well here we go" I say reaching for the rice

I take a spoon full and place it on my plate

And everybody else follows dishing up for themselves

I turn towards the kids and ask them what the would like to eat

And they both tell me as I place the food on their plates

We say grace and Denise turns to Jobe

"Are you not eating love?" Denise asks Jobe trying to prolong the inevitable

"No I already had something to eat, so that there would be enough food for everyone, if anyone wanted seconds"

"Well isn't that nice of you Jobe" I say

"Thank you, now go on and eat, your food will get cold"

Everyone starts by going for different things on their plate and placing it in their mouths

Alice starts with her piece of chicken, continuously chewing it with  determination and one of her eyebrows raised

I turn to Alicia and see her trying to figure out what she's just put into her mouth, is it rice,mashed potatoes or both

Next I see Denise and Mark exchange looks and open their pastries that are in front of them to reveal a brown looking gravy with what looks like meat

A cough is heard besides me, coming from none other than my Husband

He's picking at his plate with the same facial expression as Alicia trying to figure out if it's mashed pumpkin or is it mashed carrots and why the pasta is in a ball shape

"So guys how is it?"

"Great Jobe I really like the pasta, really unique way of making it, you're gonna need to give me the recipe for this" I say

Jude and the kids look at me with horror, like I've just said the most diabolical thing in the world

"Yeah, the pasties are really delicious, I like the chicken inside it" Denise says

"That's beef" Jobe says

"Oh, well I like it very much, right Mark?" She asks

"Yep, Most definitely, really delicious"

"And you Jude, how's you meal?" Jobe asks

"Uhm, it's, I can't put it into words, it's just so good that I have nothing to say that can describe the taste, I'm speechless"

"Alicia, Alice?" Jobe asks

"Yeah, I really like the chicken uncle Jobe, my favourite, I wish mommy made it like this" Alice says

"Well I'll give her the recipe and you can have it every night"

"My God" Jude mutters under his breath

"Great" she replies with the brightest smile

"Alicia?"

"I love the Mashed potatoes, it's like nana made them" she replies

We all look at him and he looks proud of himself

"I'll go and get dessert, I made it myself"

"Oh wow, just when you think you've seen it all, there's another suprise" Jude says

"Oh there will be plenty more surprises" Jobe replies and goes to the kitchen

For a moment it's quiet, until Alice taps my arm

"Mom, what's this?" She whispers pointing to her plate

"I don't know love, I'm just as confused"

The silence resumes again, I look out the window and see Charlie the Family Dog watching us from the outside

I turn to Jude and he looks at me and I nod my head towards Charle whose outside and Jude understands

"Alright everyone hand me your plates" Jude says

"Why?"

"Just do it quickly, c'mon hurry up" he says while taking everyone's plate

"Jude what are you about to do" Denise asks

"Has anyone fed Charlie today?"

"No not yet, why"

"Well he's about to get his first meal" Jude says

And quickly Walks out the house through the front door and puts the food into Charlie's doggy bowl

He quickly walks back into the house and hands everyone their plates back and sits back down

"This doesn't feel right to do" Mark says

"The hospital is not too far away dad, do you feel like going to visit today?" Jude asks

"No, I don't"

"Alright everybody, here we are ... crepes" Jobe says

"Now mind you they are store bought so please don't kill me, Plan A Failed, it was suppose to be a trifle"

"Oh, no Jobe sorry, we know how you were looking forward to it, don't worry it's the fact that you made an effort, that what counts" Denise says

"Thanks mom let's dig in shall we?"

"Certainly"

We eat the crepes in silence until Jobe looks at our previous plates from his meal that he prepared

"You guys must have been pretty Hungry, you cleared the plates" he says

"Yeah, the meal was really divine, to say the least" I reply and everyone agrees by nodding their heads

After having dessert we all take time to relax, spending Family time and catching up on the recent events of what has been happening in our lives

"So, what did you do after she went around saying you were sleeping with the boss" Denise asks as we're now sat on the sofa she's referring to the thing I promised I'd tell her later

"I reported her, she had no right, I earned that position fair and square she had no right to sabotage me" I reply

"And where is she now?"

"Fired, they found our she was actually stealing sums of money from the firm"

"What?"

"Yeah"

"Babe, I think it's time to go home, the girls are asleep" Jude says holding each child with one arm as they use each of his shoulders as their pillows

"Alright then I'll grab my coat" I say standing up from the sofa and walking to where my coat is

"Wait, you forgot the recipes" Jobe says

I hadn't forgotten I was just hoping he did though

"Oh snap, yeah hand them over"

"Here I've already written them down for you" he says handing me 2 A5 papers

"My goodness how thoughtful of you"

"It's not a problem, really"

"Alright everyone we're on our way,thank you so much for dinner Jobe"

"No problem, it was my pleasure, do you guys want a takeaway, before you go?"

"No thank you Jobe we're quiet stuffed"

"Alright"

We way our goodbyes and drive to the home we have in England

"Hand them over"

"What?"

"The recipes"

I hand them over to him and he throws them in the bin

"Jude"

"What, we both know you weren't going to make them, they would've probably just ended up in the bin"

"Yeah but what if I actually wanted to try the recipes"

"Don't play around like that babe"

I laugh and take one of the girls from him and we walk upstairs and tuck them in their beds

"They really knew what to say, didn't they?"

"It actually concerns me how good they are at lying on the spot, what happens when they're older?"

"I don't know really, i guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there"

"Yeah, I guess"

[frost-queen]

Witches road // part 3 (Fem!Reader x Agatha Harkness)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic,@alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @erikasurfer, @slythetic , @p0nycurtis , @quailbagutte , @fantasticcroissantpandagarden, @lanfear-is-my-darkmistress , @thefutureisus2020 , @r-3-becca , @fantasticcroissantpandagarden

Summary: the second trial awakens this time a generations curse. Despite the past, Agatha and you keep being drawn to each other. Not sure how much longer thy hearts can keep shutting each other out. [Witches road series]

If one be gone, we carry on, spirit as our guidе.

With an twisted feeling in your stomach, you all hovered above Sharon’s dead body. She for sure was dead. – “Well RIP Mrs. Hart. Shall we go now.” – Agatha said cold hearted. It made Jen look shockingly at her. – “Have a bit of decency.” – she exclaimed. – “A woman’s dead.” – she finished. – “Yes and Teen and Alice are digging her a nice grave. Hoorah to her.” – Agatha replied.

“Agatha!” – Lilia shouted making her groan loud. Agatha’s gaze went towards you for back-up except you gave her none. Simply shaking your head as it was wrong of her to mock a dead one. Agatha sighed deep taking a moment of silence, before being cheerful again. Sharon was properly buried.

Teen locked his arm through yours, leading you away from her grave. Having seen a distance stare in your eyes. Reflected with memories of pain. You followed him obeying, letting someone else take care of you. – “Are you alright Y/n?” – he asked a bit concerned.

You looked down at him with a smile. – “All better now.” – you answered, letting your hand rub up and down his arm. Still locked in arms, you followed the others down the leavy road. Wondering where the road would take you next. Knowing another trial was at hand. It wasn’t a question of what but a question of when.

As if summoned a house stood leading to the end of the road. A breeze of wind caught a few crumbled leaves along the way, sending it flooding over your feet. Looking up, you sensed there was something in the wind. Alice had frozen, staring at the house. – “I’m not doing this!” – she called out, going back.

Agatha rolled with her eyes, going after her. Taking a step forward, your arm slipped out of his. Blinking rapidly, you saw everyone go after Agatha, not wanting to be split up. Teen tugged on your sleeve as you went along.

“Alice stop!” – Agatha shouted. Alice stopped, not out of Agatha’s calling but off the horror she saw before her once more. The house cutting the end of the road. – “Well…” – Agatha said with clasped hands. – “You can run away from it, but the road will always make it work somehow.” – she finished with a wicked smile. It made Alice give her a glance of annoyance.

“The only way is forwards.” – you said stepping to the front to take the lead. Teen right behind you, followed by Lilia and Jen. Agatha closed the line with Alice. The next trial. Fire. As you entered, you felt a soft strangeness over you. One you had felt before at the first house. Looking down at yourself, you saw the change of wardrobe again. Your gaze fell on Agatha as she seemed to have had the same thought.

She curled up a smile upon your appearance, clearly liking what she saw. It made you give her a soft glare before turning away. As the first house, there needed to be a clue. Something that would set up the trial. Alarm it of it’s awakening. Your familiar strayed after you, never going far.

Your familiar hopped onto the music board as you had entered the producer’s room. Letting your finger glide over the buttons, you heard the door behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Agatha had entered. She came leaning against the panel, blocking your path. Her gaze low on you as her gaze slowly trailed up. Focused on your chest, neck, lips then eyes. Something she had buried deep down enough bubbling up.

“What?” – you called out seeing her tilt her head. – “You clearly resent me for something.” – she said, tapping her finger against her throat. Hinting the hurt you had inflicted on her not so long ago. It made you scoff mockingly, turning your head away. Agatha observed your body language for a hint. – “You deceived me.” – slowly coming closer to her. – “You could’ve chosen a different path.” – you made clear poking her in the chest.

“You made me realise one thing Agatha.” – you told her, seeing her quirk her eyebrow up curiously. – “It was all a lie.” – you whispered out, pushing her a bit back. In her eyes reflected confusion and heartbreak. The feeling of guilt if truly she was the cause of your demise. One she still wasn’t sure how occurred. Having been told you were gone. Having taking the road to never return. To leave Salem behind. To leave her behind. Having taken a different path away from her.

Agatha leaned closer to you, cupping your cheeks. It made you draw closer to her as well. Gaze switching between her eyes and lips. The desire clear as a crystal ball within the both of you. Agatha’s lips were near yours, already feeling her breath on yours. – “I haven’t forgiven you.” – you said making her snap out of it. Agatha let go of you as the moment was over. Deep down, you wanted to beg her to hold you once more. To kiss you once more as she has done so many decades ago. Please, please. Another part of you still hadn’t forgiven her. For your faith all started with her.

The playing of a record broke through the enchantment of her past. Cutting through her misery memories. The two of you rushed into the main room where everyone was. – “Turn it off!” – Jen shouted covering her ears up. – “It told me to play it.” – teen said, holding a paper up. You knelt down, covering up your familiar’s ear instead of your own.

Letting it drive your ears insane with pain just to protect your familiar. Agatha was looking your way. With a battle cry, she ran towards the record player, smashing it on the ground. The music or rather backwards chanting disrupted to silence. Lilia, Jen and you looked at each other, briefly checking up with each other. They were all good. The ticking of a metronome made you jump out of your skin. The trial has begun.

What dark ending would it conjure in thy final moments. Lilia’s scream went through bone and marrow. Eyes widening as you saw the smoke lift from her body. As if her soul was being sucked out, lighting the body with it’s weight. Alice jumped in immediate action. Speaking out a charm whilst drawing a circle around her. Lilia suffering from the fires of hell. Having knocked on the gates of hell to release it’s inner fire. Once the circle was sealed it lifted her spirit.

No more screams and no more burning. A moment later Jen screamed, demanding Alice to protect her. Agatha had her eyes on Alice. Knowing what it was. Confronting her about the family curse. A curse send down through generations. Attention drawn away to the floor, feeling the room tilt with an eerie feeling. You sensed it before it even made an effort.

Teen was in the way as you elbowed him away to take his stand. Teen dropped to the ground with a thud. A gush of wind hitting you right in the chest. Picking you up and sending you, breaking through glass. Glass shattering into sharp pieces. – “Y/n!” – Jen, Lilia and Alice shouted loud in a panic. All Agatha could do was stare with shock at the broken glass. Only when the others got in motion, ran she faster to get there before them.

She quickly knelt down beside you, brushing some glass from off your body. – “Y/n?” – she said with worry in her voice. The others kneeling around you. You coughed loud as Alice helped you up. – “I think your curse hit me.”  - you said with half a smile. It made them all laugh out of relieve. You supported on Alice to get back up.

“You need to end this.” – Agatha told Alice. A sternness in her gaze that meant she wasn’t toying around. This could take their soul. Alice shook her head, slowly backing away. All her live she felt there had been devils around her. All curses that wanted her dead before the day was done. Agatha grabbed her firm by the shoulders.

“You must sing the song you’ve despised your entire life.” – Agatha explained to her. Alice kept shaking her head. – “The song was her charm. A protection spell just for you. Have you not wondered why the curse hasn’t taken you fully. Because every day, anywhere there is someone playing your mother’s song.” – her words inspiring Alice.

Her anger slowly settling for sadness. A grief carving in her heart. For it bled deeper than anger. A shift in her gaze gave Agatha the strength that she would succeed. Instruments were divided as you went to sit behind the drums. Waiting for Alice her cue. Lorna’s ballad. Her version of the witches road.

I have learned the lesson of all that’s foul and fair.

Our love was forged in fire, water, earth and air.

The spell is cast, how long it lasts.

Hitting the drums, you followed along Alice’s guidance. Agatha’s singing filling the room. With each word, you felt a shift in the wind. Something present, yet unseeable. Down, down, down the road. Down the witches road. The house shaking. Fires erupted from behind you. Warming your back with a smothering heat.

Rising up to the ceiling like the consuming fires of hell. Hell fire blazing with rage. Hitting the drums harder, you were panted loud. Down, down, down the road. Down the witches road. Your familiar jumped on your shoulder, sending a pressing on your body. Blinking confused, you suddenly got aware of something.

Letting your gaze go down. Vision blurred from the piece of glass you saw sticking out of your side. Blood dripping out. Swallowing nervously, you continued to play the drums. Drowning the vision out, focussing on the more pressing matter.

Alice called it out, her eyes full of horror. Looking up there was the creature. Send from hell to conflict pain. Your familiar hissed at it. The creature screeched loud as it made Alice stop the piano. – “I… I can see it.” – she said in utter shock. Shock that this creature had been tormenting her for so long. – “Keep going!” – Agatha shouted at her. Aware of the fires erupting around them.

Slamming the drums hard, you wanted to get Alice’s attention. Needing her to continue if she ever wanted to get rid of her curse. – “Smoke him out!” – you shouted loud. Alice took a determined breath, playing the piano keys once more. The creature took off flying straight down to Alice. It’s claws burned once it grabbed onto her shoulders.

Yelping it out in pain, she continued. Taking over Agatha’s singing. For Lorna. For her mother she was singing her heart out. Sweat having formed on your forehead, you kept playing, panting loud. From ash thy are born and to ash thy shall return. The creature evaporated into nothingness through the fires of hell.

The piano lifted up, revealing the end. You got up from behind the drums, coming nearer. – “Wonderful.” – you said before dropping to the ground. Having passed out. – “Y/n!” – Agatha called out running over to you. Her hand hovering over the piece of glass sticking out of your body. Your familiar meowing loud, letting his nose brush against your cheek for a reaction. – “Quickly, help me!” – Agatha called out.

Lilia and Jen helping her. Teen picked up your familiar, carrying her while going through the piano. Stroking him soothingly to calm him down. Outside Agatha ordered for you to be placed down. Jen took out the glass. – “There’s so much blood.” – Alice commented with a pained expression.

Agatha stood before you, holding you down by your shoulders. – “Do something. Help her!” – she cried out. Begged. – “Jen!” – she shouted catching her attention. – “Please…” – she pleaded. Begged. – “What do you need to heal her?” – Lilia asked. – “Water and moonlight.” – Jen answered. Alice went to fetch water. Returning back to her with it. With worry Agatha was watching Jen perform the spell.

“Please…” – she whispered lowering her head against yours. Jen rushed to you, making Agatha lift her head back up. Sniffing loud to wipe the tears away she wasn’t aware of were there. Jen dropped the water on your wound. Watching carefully as the wound faded away. No mark, no scar to hint you were ever bleeding. Having set up a little camp for you, Agatha decided to sit with you.

Sit close to you, holding herself as she stared into the distance. Sometimes her gaze would be on you. Keeping a close eye on you. Sniffing loud, she wiped some stained tears away. She took a deep breath, adjusting her posture. Straightening her back, rubbing her hands down her legs when she saw you move.

“Good, you’re awake.” – she said in her cheerful saying you knew were just a glamour. A glamour to hide her true feelings. Sitting carefully up, you still felt a bit out of strength. Agatha kept looking at you, nodding her head with a faint smile. Seeing her lip quiver just that little. Hinting she was doing her very best not to cry.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” – you responded brushing your hands off. Agatha smiled. – “Good, for I’m not letting you.” – she answered. Before you could answer she got up. – “Rest enough for I need your strength later.” – she said walking off. Sitting by your own, you looked around.

Fingers digging through the dirt, turning your wrist, picking up some dirt. Letting it crush in your palm before letting it drop by opening your hand. With a heavy sigh, you got up to join the others. The others were intrigued by your presence You came to sit down with a heavy sigh. Your familiar who was still on Teen’s lap, got up and ran across towards you. Snuggling up to you as you petted it.

“Y/n tell us, do you have any battle scars?” – Jen asked. Glancing to the side, you saw Agatha roll her sleeve back down. With a soft breath, you started rolling up your sleeve. The other’s eyes widening at the scar marks going in thin lines around your arm. Rolling your other sleeve up as well, you revealed the same marks.

“Where did you get these?” – Agatha asked in shock, having never seen them before. Staring in front of you, you were pulled back to the memory. Standing barefoot. The sound clear in your mind, making you gasp loud. A thorny root wrapped around your arm.

Strangling around your arm like a snake slithering. Swaying your hand forward another root strapped around your other arm. Keeping you in place. Fighting to be released. Calling it out with every might as another one strapped around your ankles. Limbs struggling and pushing against the restrains. With a mighty pull from thy earth you dropped with a thud to the ground.

Clawing your way for a grip as the roots kept strangling around you. Screaming and shouting for help. The women in front of you not moving an inch. Standing in a line before you, palms up. Crawling your way out, the roots dragged you over the ground. Dragging, dragging till you tilted down a nothingness below you. The heavens growing smaller as the darkness consumed you.

Strengthened by earth to earth you shall be send.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[milfloveer]

Premonition 🦋

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

Plot: You have a terrible premonition about the person you love

Warnings: angst maybe but comfort and some fluff wins hihi; premonition of Lilia's death

A/n: Alright fam I'm currently in grief for my wife Lilia and I need some comfort and this was what came to my mind, so please enjoy as much as I do

I woke up frantically gasping for air "LILIA! NO!" I scream from the top of my lungs, tears staining my cheeks. The contact of someone's hands— No, not someone's, Lilia's hands, grabbing my face make me look at her face and the world falls on me.

Sobbing my heart out I lounge my body to hers and hug her tightly, crying my soul out as she says sweet nothing against my ear. Our bodies rock back and forward into a comforting movement, one of her hands holding the back of my head and the other on my lower back, pushing me even closer to her, her face nuzzled into the crook of my neck as mine is against her chest.

As I calm down I slightly pull away and look her in the eyes, ignoring the other members of the coven, probably in distress for seeing the scene before them "Lilia, please don't do it..." I sob with tears still in my eyes.

Lilia looks at me confused with her eyebrows furrowed "Do what?" she asks "Please, I'm begging you- I- I need you." I say between sobs, Lilia seems surprised by my words and so seems the rest of the coven "y/n what's going on? What did you see?" Agatha asks a little frightened cause she knows my premonitions weren't a good thing.

The premonition flashes through my mind again and I tightly close my eyes as I shake my head "No- NO! Please, make it stop!" I sob gripping Lilia's hands which were now on my face trying to stop my movements "Guys what do we do?" Alice asks, concern evident in her tone and her question directed more specifically to Agatha and Lilia than to the whole coven.

Lilia looks at Alice and then at Agatha, the later masking her distress and concern by shrugging her shoulders "We can't do anything about it. So we wait." she says, making the others groan and sigh as Lilia refocus on me again. She leans in and lays her forehead against mine making me open my frantic eyes and look at her concerned ones "Please, please, don't do it- don't leave me. I need you." I whisper, barely audible at the end "Why are you saying this, darling. What did you see?" she asks softly and carefully, I take a deep shaky breath before answering "I saw you falling... Sacrificing yourself..." my voice trembles as I try to say what I saw, she frowns "Please, don't do it, Lilia. Please." I beg her, fear evident in my voice and posture.

Lilia still doesn't understand why I'm begging her, why all the fear, the crying and concern from my side about her, we're good friends, but we knew what the road was when persuaded to go by Agatha, to join her coven "But darling, why are you so afraid of losing me?" she asks "Because I love you." I blurted out making her gasp softly with the impact of the words "Y-you do?" she stutters and I realise what I've just said and try to move away from her, but she won't let me "I'm sorry, Lilia." I say trying to contain the tears of embarrassment and rejection "I hope you're apologising for not telling me that sooner, darling." she says, her voice soft, dripping with tenderness and... Love?

My eyes lock with hers as searching for the answer, then I feel her soft and delicate lips against mine. The whole world disappears and it's only me and Lilia at this moment, our lips move delicately, lovingly, like sharing all the feelings for each other without words, it's... Magic. She pulls away and rests her forehead against mine once again "I love you too and I promise I won't leave you, my darling." she breathes out, brushing against my lips and in that precise moment I knew I didn't need to end the road, my heart was complete, bursting with love for the witch in front of me.

[fkinavocado]

a very indulgent exploration of what could've, should've been...

Don't Worry Darling (SPIN-OFF) - Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings / alternatively, read on wattpad

Part One (word count: 6.2k)

“... Jack? Excuse me, Jack? Is that really you?”

The man reluctantly stopped in his tracks and turned around, recognizing the woman but having forgotten her name. “Oh… hi there, uhm…?”

“Emma. It’s Emma. You remember me, right?”

“Yeah, you’re, uhm… you used to work at the hospital…”

Emma approached him, noting he wasn’t keen on breaching the gap himself. Poor fellow, she thought. He looked a mess. She was surprised she’d even recognized him. “Oh, I’m still at the hospital! How are you, Jack? You know, we’re all worried about you. Why didn’t you take us up on our offer, hm? We’d have loved to help you any way we could… It can’t have been easy. Gloria told us she came over once with a home cooked casserole but no one answered the door. She assumed you’d moved. Which is good, we thought. But we couldn’t get a hold of you, you must’ve also changed your number…”

Jack wasn’t really making eye contact. His gaze downcast, a hoodie atop of a beanie on his head and an oversized, worn out puffer jacket that almost swallowed him up. He looked very poorly even hidden behind all that. His facial hair unkempt, as was his hair tucked underneath his beanie, seemingly longer strands of it all messy and straw-like peeking out. His glasses loose at his temples. His face was hollow cheeked and she really feared he wasn’t looking after himself properly at all. But what really stood out to her was the bouquet of flowers he was carrying.

“Yeah… I moved out of there. Too many memories.”

“Those were her favourite… pink roses,” she mused. “You miss her so, don’t you, Jack? You can’t even bear talking to me about her, you poor man, even after all this time… What must you be going through… do you– agh. This is so insensible of me to even ask. Forgive me. But if it’s any consolation, us at the hospital haven’t given up hope. We still think she’s out there, somewhere, our Alice…”

Jack cleared his throat and took a step back. “I should get going…”

“Of course. Do take care of yourself, Jack. And if you ever want to reach out, you know where to find us. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,...” he stammered a bit, not knowing what else to say. He walked for a while in the wrong direction, just in case the nosy woman decided to follow him. 

He hadn’t moved. That would’ve been near impossible, and since he managed to dodge the bullet while the police were sniffing around for the longest time, he figured there wasn’t any reason to do so anymore. But he couldn’t have her know that, which is why he never answered the door to the other woman with the casserole either. 

After making sure she wasn’t following him, he resumed his walk home. He wished he could find some type of work from home. He’d be saving so much time and money on the commute, plus he’d always be there, which was quite imperative, all things considered.

What if there was a power outage? The one time that’d happened, there’d been dire consequences. Consequences he hadn’t had to endure. And he simply couldn’t allow that to happen again.

There were so many things that could go wrong while he wasn’t home.

Plus, if he worked remote he could take on a full shift. As it was, he had to work part-time, which wasn’t nearly enough to make ends meet. But the commute and all the prep he had to do were taking up too much time, time he didn’t want to waste here.

Finally arriving home, he made sure to secure the front door- the lock and all 3 of the bolts. 

Checking the computer screen, he only had 40 minutes left. The woman had made him late, what with all the detours he had to make to be sure she wasn’t following him.

Canned tuna it was, then. Again. No time for cooking. Not that he had much in the fridge anyway. 

He always felt antsy between the time he got back home and logging in. He wanted to get everything done and out of the way as soon as possible- cooking, laundry, cleaning (more like tidying up, the apartment was far from clean even by his standards), everything on autopilot, peeking at the computer screen every now and then to make sure he didn’t miss his log-in window.

With 20 minutes to spare, that was his que. 

“Oh!” He rushed back to the kitchen to retrieve the flowers, then using the keys that he wore on a chain around his neck for safekeeping, he unbolted yet another set of locks on the bedroom door. 

There she was. 

His heart always swelled in his chest seeing her there, safe and sound. Everyday day, without fail, a sigh of relief escaped his lips once he entered the bedroom. He’d probably never stop worrying while he was away for work.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time…” he hummed the lyrics to a song he used to sing to her often, placing the flowers in a vase by the bed. “Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” He sat on the edge of the bed and reached to caress her supple cheek. “But I love you the most.”

Jack knew he did. Who else would do all this for her? Nobody! He tended after her, emptied out her waste bags as well as checked the respective connecting catheters were secure in place, cleaned her up, all without so much as wrinkling his nose. He replaced the IV, taking note that there was some bruising on that arm so he made sure to switch, he removed her compressive socks and massaged her limbs thoroughly before putting them back on, even made sure to hydrate her lips though she was getting all her nutrients through her IV, hell- he thought of everything. He did it all for her happily, and would do much more if needed. 

She’d done so much for them, too. 

She still did!

But long gone were the days where he’d see her come home from back to back shifts at the hospital, with barely any time to get some sleep in before she had to head back, all because she had to support the both of them all while paying off her student loans. 

Medschool was so expensive. Had he met her before he’d have talked her out of that career path. He’d have talked her out of any career! No. That was his job. He was the caretaker. He was the breadwinner. It’d been like that since the beginning of time. It was only natural for the man to provide. The fact that she’d had to for all that time had been killing him, every day that he had to sit at home and wait for her to get back from the hospital only to see her defeated, exhausted, drained beyond belief. 

Resident doctors were paid shit but strung out to the max. Especially surgeons. 

Meanwhile, Jack had struggled to find a job for the longest time. Unlike her, he hadn’t gone to college, let alone university. His parents couldn’t afford it at the time and he knew better than to tie himself up in student loans. He’d had odd jobs but nothing really ever stuck. He had no real skills, and every entry job demanded some form of higher education nowadays.

Plus, someone had to do house chores, cook and clean. And they couldn’t afford help. 

It’d been eating him up inside. It was all backwards! 

All up until he’d met someone online and got to talking over a game of World of Warcraft. This guy swore up and down about this dark web programme he’d found, but it was all very hush-hush, and Jack had to put in some serious gameplay time until he managed to extricate the info out of him.

The guy was very paranoid about telling him and even used a code system for what to look up. Jack took the lead and before long, he fell down the rabbit hole of what he now knew to be the Victory Project.

He got so immersed trying to digest all this new info being thrown his way all of a sudden that he nearly got caught listening to one of the podcasts when she’d gotten home from the hospital one day. He’d even forgotten to call the plumber. Boy- had that pissed her off.

She was already on edge all the time. Never had any time for him anyway- but if she got upset over silly little things she shut him out completely. 

He felt emasculated. Rejected. Reduced to a housewife.

Jack smirked to himself, as he tended to her whilst pondering all that. Securing the straps back around her wrists he mused at how things had changed. “I fixed it for us, I told you I would. Now you’re the one who’s waiting for me just as we speak. And I don’t even come home to you in scrubs, do I? No, I come home to you all handsome, suit and tie and ready to get my fill of you. Never too tired for you, am I darling? You’re such a great cook, god knows my mouth waters just thinking of all you’ve slaved over for us to feast on, but all I wanna do is feast on you instead. Aren’t you lucky?”

Jack watched her expressionless eyes for a moment as if waiting for her to answer him back, and promptly remembered to apply her eye drops, noticing they looked extra blood-shot than normal. He then finally got comfy in bed next to her. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. He was hard already just in anticipation of the way she’d excitedly open the door for him. The door to their lavish home, and their extravagant life together that he’d earned for the two of them. Him. 

He fixed the device around his own eyes and turned it on, taking her hand in his. 

“Welcome to the Victory Project. There are currently 72 active users.”

Nothing beat this. The pleasant, warm afternoon air sweeping through his perfectly coiffed hair as he rushed to get home to her from the Victory Headquarters. Here, the weather was always perfect… whereas, in the apartment, he had to keep the heating on a lower setting, the bill was ridiculous during the colder months. He always had to wear layers and layers, but not in the bedroom- no, he kept a radiator in there. All for her. He had to switch it off for safety reasons while he was away at work but it wasn’t like she was aware of her surroundings anyway! All the more reasons why he had to find something remote so he could work from home and clear up all these little things that bugged him about the whole arrangement. 

But he didn’t want to think about all that, not while he was here. No, here, those problems didn’t exist. This was his preferred reality, this was what he chose to believe was real. All the rest was just a means to an end.

He could feel all his exhaustment leave his body the closer he got to the house. He seldom wondered why she couldn’t have done the same for him coming back from the hospital. Why she couldn’t just leave all that baggage at the door and be glad to be home, back to him, where he waited for her like a lovesick puppy with separation anxiety.

He knew the answer to that now, of course, and that was all Frank’s merit- the brain behind this whole thing. He’d listened to his podcasts for a long while before he enrolled into the program. There was no way she could ever respect him within their given dynamic at the time. The roles were reversed and she couldn’t allow herself to be a woman to her man.

He’d fixed it, though, and boy, had Frank been right.

Every day, without fail, he knocked on the door coming home from work and there she was- all smiles and carefree and so eager to please him, in any way he saw fit. All because she respected him now. He was the man of the house, he was the breadwinner, he put a roof over her head, he got her all her little heart desired and kept her satisfied and happy. 

Which is why when nobody answered the door he was a bit taken aback.

Using his key that he’d rarely ever had to use himself to unlock the door, he let himself in and carefully inspected the silent house.

He knew, realistically, that there was no way something could’ve gone wrong- there was no crime in Victory. No one had broken into their home. But still, he searched the house tentatively. “Alice?”

Everything was spotless, and most striking of all, he couldn’t smell a trace of the homecooked meal he’d so been looking forward to. That tuna was enough to sustain his physical body, but not his large appetite.

Reaching the bedroom, he furrowed his brows with worry upon finding her… sleeping. Passed out on the bed, clad in her street clothes. She’d seemingly come back home from town exhausted and must’ve stretched her bones a bit by the looks of it. 

He contemplated waking her up. Maybe crawling between her thighs and having her gasp awake at the feel of him lapping languidly at her folds. He loved waking her up like that, and she did too. She loved being loved on, and Jack absolutely loved pleasuring her. She was so much more responsive, so much more sensitive to his touch, he could pleasure her over and over for hours on end. Probably ‘cause of all the practice he was having on a regular basis. And maybe he adjusted some settings regarding his stamina while creating his profile too, but at the end of the day, why not? He did it for her. All of this was for her!

Jack grunted to himself before closing the door to the bedroom so he wouldn’t perturb her sleep, deciding last minute to forgo his initial plans. Funny he’d been reminiscing about how things used to be just in time for this to happen all of a sudden.

It must’ve been a glitch in the system or something. This wasn’t in line with what he’d designed for themselves. Here, they were never tired, ill or imperfect in any way. Jack made a mental note to look into this after he logged out.

In the meanwhile- he’d never tried his hand at cooking here, where presumably he’d be a lot better at it than he was in reality. 

Just like with everything else.

*

Alice blinked her eyes awake. She took in her surroundings and hesitantly stood up on the bed in the dark room, letting her sight adjust. 

How did she get back here? Not here, here. She had an inkling of how she’d managed that- but back to the house, from the Headquarters. She couldn’t remember making the trek back.

Maybe she didn’t have to.

Maybe this was the default setting she woke up to everytime after entering… the simulation. Because, what else was this if not that?!

How long was she out of it? Judging by the darkness surrounding her, a good few hours. Perking her ears up, she could hear music- so Jack was home too.

She cradled her knees to her chest, trying to let it all sink in. She hadn’t had time to properly digest what had happened, in her unconscious state.

Hell, she was surprised she could even remember.

But this explained it… explained all the fuzzy deja vu-like flashbacks she kept having. Explained her brain fog and all the things she just couldn’t follow through in her train of thought. Explained why she sometimes couldn’t account for most of her day until Jack came home from work, almost as if she’d been on auto-pilot. 

Explained all the vivid “dreams”. 

They weren’t fanciful dreams, idealistic wishes of a progressive feminist world for which she’d gotten shock therapy at the Victory’s doctor’s orders.

They were her memories.

Waking up tied down to that bed… her own bed, from another life, had been traumatic, but she clearly was still in shock to be so calm about it. 

She hadn’t been calm initially of course- not when she couldn’t move her arms or blink her eyes shut. 

She’d managed to slip out of the confines, her wrists weak and frail and barely recognizable, yanking her IV out of her vein by accident- she hadn’t even known it was there!, all in an effort to get those things that forced her eyes open off of her face.

She’d been hysteric. Tried to muffle her own screams, because she didn’t know who was around to hear them. Tried to calm herself down, but the more she noticed, the more she hyperventilated. Like the fact that had both urinary and rectal catheters sticking out of her. Then she noticed how emaciated she looked, almost like she couldn’t even recognize her own body. She couldn’t feel her limbs, she felt numb and achy all over, bruises all across her skin from sitting still for so long. Her throat was hoarse, she couldn’t really scream that loud even if she wanted to.

She’d fumbled out of bed and immediately collapsed to the floor. She was too weak to stand, and she prayed she hadn’t broken any bones in her fall. She sat there crying in a fetal position for god knows how long, thinking of all the fractures she’d fixed in the OR, and all her knowledge that had gone to waste. 

All her life that had gone to waste!

This room, this bedroom- her old life came back to her in a flash, flooding all her senses. It felt like everything was finally clicking into place, and despite how miserable and utterly devastated she felt, it was a relief to finally figure it out. 

With the way nobody came rushing into the bedroom, she knew she was alone. Unless Jack was at this computer, headphones on– oh god. She felt her mind split into two trying to reconcile the fact that these two very different men were one and the same!

She was alone strapped to the bed- which could only mean one thing. He wasn’t constrained like she was. He hadn’t been forced into this. Unless they were being kept separate… both victims of this sick mindfuck. 

Because… surely– surely Jack couldn’t be behind this.

… Could he?

Scrambling for the door, determined to get some answers, she reached for the doorknob.

When she couldn’t get it to open, she mustered up all her strength to stand up- but still- it was no use. It was locked. And with the way it felt it looked like the door had been tampered with, bolted shut from the outside, not just locked. 

She was trapped. A prisoner in her own home. She eyed the windows next and even if by some miracle they weren’t bolted shut too- she knew she was too weak to try and use the fire escape. She’d surely succumb to her death trying to evade. She needed a plan- a better plan.

Her brain was scurrying to come up with something-anything, all the while dry heaving at the sight of her waste bags still attached to her by those catheters and the overall stale smell of the room, but she knew that with how dehydrated she was, vomiting would take her out completely at that point. She head to keep it together, had to–

She’d heard what she recognized to be the front door. Her blood froze in her veins. She didn’t know who it was, she had no idea who was behind all this. She had no clue where Jack was, if he even was part of this– her heart told her no, he couldn’t have, but at this point she had no way of knowing what was real or not, let alone what this all meant.

She couldn’t risk being found conscious. She was clearly being kept in a comatose state, treated as one such patient at least, and the fact that she’d woken up from that induced state was definitely not intended to happen.

She remembered what had happened before she woke up like this- she’d reached the infamous, off limits Victory Headquarters. Because a plane had crashed in that direction, and the trolley driver didn’t believe her nor wanted to take her there!

She’d made the trek all the way there… it’d taken her ages, in the scorching sun- and finally, finally, she’d reached the imposing building, in hopes of finding some help or at least some answers at that point!

Next thing she knew, she’d woken up strapped to this bed. Her bed, in her old bedroom, from her old life that had been stolen away from her!

She needed to gather as much information as possible, and the only way she could do that was to get back into that bed and pretend she never came to.

There was no other way.

She hurried as best she could, barely making it back to the bed, made sure she was laid out in the same outstretched position. By some miracle, the catheters were still in place, their respective bags on the floor by the foot of the bed. The hardest part was fixing whatever that contraption was over her face and around her eyes. It dug deep into her flesh and she remembered to wipe any traces of tears from her face when new ones began rolling down her face. She was surprised her body could even produce them with how parched she felt. She then inserted the needle back into her bruised vein– which was sure to get infected at this rate, whoever was doing this to her was amateur at best, or they didn’t much care to keep her alive. She didn’t know which prospect was worse. She slipped her wrists back through the strap loops, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious she’d gotten them a bit loose when she struggled her way out of them. 

And then she’d waited. And waited. And waited. All the while a bright red light scanned her eyeballs systematically, no doubt whatever was used to induce her into that trance or whatever it was that created the optimal parameters for the alternate reality to take place. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around it. She couldn’t even begin to understand how it worked- all she knew was that it was all too real to be just a dream. No. That was a controlled environment. The world simulation came to her again.

Her whole body froze as she’d heard the lock, then what she counted to be 3 other bolts on the bedroom door. She could only see directly above her, and that barely- but she could hear him when he came in. 

Smell him, even. 

And it wasn’t the smell of expensive cologne she’d grown used to, but a more familiar smell. A smell that felt more real, more ingrained in her subconscious- that of clothes he’d dug out of the laundry hamper to wear a few more times when everything else was too dirty even for his own standards, mixed with canned tuna and the faintest amount of deodorant that did nothing to mask the fact that he’d skipped showering for a day or two.

Her heart sank when she heard him hum to himself the song that had been stuck in her mind for ages- the one she’d been humming herself but couldn’t remember where she knew it from. This is where she knew it from. It’d been their song, in a way, a song he’d made up just for her.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time… Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” She felt him sit on the edge of the bed and tried her best not to flinch when he leaned in to caress her cheek. “But I love you the most.”

She could feel her eyes well up with tears. Tears she couldn’t even blink away. 

He then started tending to her and she mustered up all of her willpower not to lurch at him when he’d gotten her out of her restraints- she knew she was no match for him, not in her weakened state by any means.

He was doing this to her. It was him! All while declaring his love for her. She felt her heart break into a million pieces, all the while forcing herself not to make any movements and break her cover. Not even when he cleaned her with wet wipes up and checked the catheters, emptying the waste bags. God- she wished she was dead. For a while she zoned out completely, much like rape victims. She just let it happen to her, dissociating from her body completely, mentally checking out.

He’d eventually poured what must’ve been eyedrops into her sockets and that brought her back to reality. Whatever reality was anymore…

And then… to her utter shock, she felt him get in bed next to her. The familiar clank of the device she’d placed back onto herself could be heard and she realized he was putting on the same headgear. 

He was… joining her? He was willingly putting himself through this? Sure, he wasn’t forced into it against his will, there was nobody strapping himself to the bed, nobody feeding him through an IV and treating him like a comatose patient.

But he was entering the simulation the same way she was. Through that headgear.

Is this what he did everyday while he was “at work”? Was this the infamously secret Victory Project that she couldn’t even ask him about- exiting that alternate reality and coming back here?

She heard him switch it on and then the whole room went dark before a projector of sorts played a familiar black and white scene on the ceiling, above the bed. She felt him interlace his fingers with hers and she was done for- she couldn’t fight it. Whatever this was, it was working fast, making her slip into unconsciousness almost immediately.

Followed directly after by her waking up in her other bedroom. Unrestrained. Nothing to force her eyes open. Clean. Rejuvenated even.

But scared shitless.

Traumatised.

Heartbroken.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, trying to make sense of it all in the darkness. Thankful to be able to move freely, thankful to feel like her old self, but well aware that it was all an illusion, that her real self was held hostage somewhere god knows where. Helpless, frail and alone.

She felt conflicted. Why was he doing this?! Why had he done this to her? She’d heard him say he loved her most. Heard he’d brought her flowers, even though she couldn’t even see them. Felt him tend to her, he was doing a lousy job at it but was keeping her alive and she could tell he was trying his best, being gentle, careful, thoughtful even when the reality was he didn’t have to. Not when, for all he knew, she was unconscious. 

This was insanity. 

There was no other explanation. No other justification. She understood the nuances- could see why this was- on paper- a better life. But it was fake! And most of all, it wasn’t her choice!

She’d been forced into it, against her will, without her even being aware of it! Her life had been robbed away from her. Her family, her friends, her hard work. The only common denominator… was Jack.

She didn’t know how to go about it, but if there was any chance of her escaping, she had to play dumb and pretend she knew nothing.

She wasn’t sure how she could face him knowing what she did, but she had to. She had to buy time, enough time until she could put her plan into motion. 

She didn’t know if she’d succeed, but she had to try. She had to. She had to escape, claim her life back, good or bad.

She got off the bed, marvelling at how strong and healthy she felt, as opposed to how she’d collapsed on the floor in her real body. That alone emboldened her, she had to go face the music.

And face the music she did. Jack had put a record on, blasting it at high volume with little consideration to her being asleep. No surprises there.

But as she approached the kitchen, she took in the sight of him… cooking. Or, trying to cook. 

Apparently, you couldn’t tweak everything in this alternate reality. Or maybe he didn’t care to fumble with his cooking skills. Because he’d definitely perfected some of his other skills–

“You’re awake!... I didn’t have time to set the table.”

“What’s going on?” She watched him scurry around the kitchen, trying to do a dozen things at once and failing. 

“Well, I’m making you dinner. Now, we were supposed to have five courses. Unfortunately, I think we’re down to about three.” 

She took note of the mess, especially the way something was about to catch on fire on the stove.

“That– don’t look at that. That course is officially off the menu.”

That’s when it clicked in her brain– the fucker had switched up his accent! He had a British accent here! Oh, she could laugh if she didn’t feel like murdering him. She reminded herself it wouldn’t be the real him she’d be murdering, though. No, for all she knew if she harmed him in any way here, she might end up trapped inside this simulation forever if her plan failed. Or until her real body died, with no one to tend for it, even as poorly as he was, in the real world.

She had to thread carefully. “What happened?”

“I got a little aggressive with the seasoning.”

“How long have you been home?”

“Uh, a few hours.” He proceeded to make even more of a mess in his attempt to jump from one dish to the next. “Okaaay. Nope. Don’t look at that. That’s– Okay, so I’m making that roast, you know the one you made for my birthday? Only with a few changes…”

“I was here when you got here?” 

“Yeah. Asleep in the bedroom. Do you put carrots in a roast?”

“How did I get home?” That was a reasonable question. Last thing she knew of this reality was she’d reached the Headquarters. She needed to know if anyone knew about it.

“Trolley, I think.”

“Wait, so he came out and got me?!”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Jack, I got off the trolley. I saw a plane crash.”

“Alice, I think I would’ve heard if there was a plane crash.”

“No, Jack, I saw it…”

“They tend to be rather loud…”

“... and I started walking–”

“–and hard to miss.”

It was dawning on her that she wasn’t going to milk any info on this out of him. He was going to pretend the plane never crashed, of course, whatever that even meant for this simulation. Or maybe the plane crashing was only visible to her version of this altered reality. She couldn’t know for sure. But he seemed unconcerned otherwise. She didn’t think he knew she’d gone there. She really must’ve re-entered right back into the bedroom, after all, she, along with all the other women, were never meant to go up there, the Headquarters were off-limits.

Meaning that was probably from where the men entered. Since they were the only ones who came and left. The women were probably all bound to their own respective beds back in the real world, they were never meant to leave the simulation. It made sense why she’d found herself back in the house- where she belonged. And it made sense if that was where the man entered and exited since that’s where they all allegedly went everyday for “work”.

Her heart sank at the realization that it was highly probable that all the other women were victims, just like her. Unless everything and everyone else was a simulation around them.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

She tried not to flinch when Jack finally noticed she’d zoned out whilst trying to process all of this, and touched her shoulder, taking a better look at her.

“No…I don’t know–I’m not…”

Before she could react, he pulled her into his arms. That smell of expensive cologne hit her again, overriding the smell of stale clothes and canned tuna from her recent memory. And his embrace felt so familiar, so comforting, that for a moment she allowed herself to pretend like this was the person she knew to love her. The person she couldn’t wait to come back home from work everyday. The person that made her smile and laugh and moan and cry tears of happiness. She knew him well, she loved him with all her heart. And she was reluctant to accept that this man was the same that was keeping her strapped against the bed. Because that was the reality of it. 

But this version of Jack that was holding her felt so real as well…

“I had a really weird dream. A really weird dream…”

“I’m sorry.”

Her heart sank. Was he, sorry? She buried her face deeper into his chest and held her breath, stifling a sob as tears flooded her eyes immediately. She wanted to break down in his arms and ask him why he’d done this. She wanted to give him a chance to explain himself. Wanted for him to somehow, magically, make it all better.

But she knew there was no way for him to do it. There was nothing he could say or do to justify what he’d done to her, even if his intentions didn’t seem as evil as they truly were to him.

Because she knew Jack. She knew he’d probably convinced himself somehow that this was the only way out of the miserable life they were living- and be it as it were, it was her life! He’d had no right to steal it from her like that. 

“Do you know what weird dreams make me? Hungry.” He fed her a carrot he was holding jokingly then turned her around as she chewed absentmindedly, her mind racing, still taking in the reality of what her life was. Or the alternate reality, more like it.

Jack cupped her face, searching her eyes and declared solemnly, “Alice, I want to be honest with you about something.”

She almost choked on the carrot she was chewing on. Was he–

“I don’t think these mashed potatoes are gonna work.”

She swallowed, a bitter taste in her mouth at her naivete. “That’s because you need to boil them first, baby…”

“I knew it… I knew there was a step missing. Such an idiot,” he smiled bashfully.

She laughed at that. A manic laugh, but he didn’t seem to notice. Not at how incompetent he was at such a basic life skill- who the hell tries to mash raw potatoes?!- but at how hopeful she’d been for a moment there, believing he was about to confess everything just like that, out of the blue.

“Let me put a pot on…”

“No, no, no–”

“Come on, let me–”

“Make us some drinks. Relax.” He pulled her out of the kitchen and into the lounge, declaring “I am your chef tonight!”

Lord knew she desperately needed a drink at this point, so she sighed heavily, getting to it, when he stopped her in her tracks, “hey!”

“Hm?”

“You love me?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She replied like she used to, back in the real world. Something she didn’t remember ever doing here, but it just came to her by reflex now that her memory of her past life had come back to her fully. And for some reason that she couldn’t explain, she meant it, still. “The most.”

Jack seemed pleased with her answer, and resumed his ‘cooking’. Alice turned to the whiskey bottle and downed two doubles, one after the other. 

How was she ever going to get free when her stupid heart had meant what she said?

She couldn’t allow herself to be fooled by this false reality any longer. Couldn’t allow to slip into his arms again and pretend he loved her when this was anything but love. 

So she waited. Waited until he fell asleep that night (thankfully all the “cooking” had seemingly tired him out and he didn’t try anything)- praying this meant he was truly asleep.

Got dressed, tiptoed out of the house and geared up for a long journey to the Headquarters. She couldn’t risk taking the car and waking him or the neighbours up, alerting them with this unusual behaviour. There weren't any trolleys late at night by any means- everyone was sound asleep.

Everyone but her.

She was no longer asleep.

A/N: i've been meaning to get to this for the longest while! hopefully it scratches some itches we've been left with. i had fun writing this first part. more to come 👀

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