#and by the maker she was going to do everything in her power to keep them alive

[riboism]

tear you apart

》 mob boss! p.sh x fem. ballerina! reader

》 wc: 3.3k

》 plot: a powerful mob boss becomes dangerously distracted by a captivating ballerina, leading him to abandon an important business deal because of his new obsession. Determined to regain his focus, he confronts her one night after a show, only to find himself even deeper entangled in his desire—and a conflict that could jeopardize everything.

》 content: swan lake ballet, ballerina!reader, mob boss! seonghwa, dom! seonghwa, gloved finger-fucking?? eventual smut

🎧 tear you apart- she wants revenge, sour switchblade- elita, into the woods- bragolin

It was now the final act of the show. Rothbart was defeated, his dark powers broken, and the swan maidens were free at last. In the soft glow of the stage, you and Siegfried danced together, your movements light and delicate, like drifting feathers. Each step felt weightless as you floated through the scene, surrounded by the gentle swell of the orchestra and the dreamy, pearlescent backdrop that bathed everything in a soft, otherworldly light. This was the most serene moment of the entire performance—yet your heart raced wildly in your chest.

Throughout the entire show, a sense of unease gripped you, following your every movement on stage. No matter where you turned or what role you played, you felt his eyes on you, that same piercing, unrelenting gaze that had been following you all season. 

Park Seonghwa always sat in the same seat, just a little off-center in the orchestra, ensuring he had the best view of you. Like clockwork, he was here every Saturday night, with his hair slicked back with precision, dressed in a long, black coat that skimmed the floor, and his leather-gloved hands resting motionless on his knees. His eyes followed you all over the stage, studying your every move, every tweak of your brow, his plump lips parted in fascination. His unblinking, stone-cold expression sent shivers down your spine, and yet, you couldn’t deny the intrigue it sparked in you. His observance of you, so focused and ceaseless, made you feel powerful—seen. As if, in his eyes, you were the only ballerina on that stage, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. You almost looked forward to seeing him in the audience every night, that is, until some whisperings from the other ballerinas during dress rehearsal rattled you. 

"A mobster? Really? I thought those only existed in Scorsese movies," one ballerina laughed softly, her eyes darting nervously to the corner where he sometimes lingered after performances.

"It's true!" another whispered eagerly. "He's part of the Park crime family. Remember when they started cracking down on drug trafficking? Then they suddenly dropped all charges. I heard he paid off half the force. And now—well, I hear he’s eyeing the theater as a front for money laundering."

There was more truth to their rumors than they realized. After his father’s sudden departure, Seonghwa had inherited the mantle, becoming the head of the Park family business—a role he’d taken on with cold, unerring resolve. He was trusted to be the new, pragmatic decision-maker, one who wold keep the family business running smoothly. Everything had been going according to plan, right down to choosing an old, run-down theater on the outskirts of town as his next investment. 

It was a simple acquisition, one that should have been handled quickly. But one evening, he found himself sitting in the darkened theater, watching intently as you stepped onto the stage in your pearly white tutu, your sculpted legs covered in thick stockings, twirling on your experienced tippy toes, forcing him to wonder how you can move so gracefully while doing something that seemed so painful. 

Seonghwa never thought much of performance art; it simply wasn’t his world. His world was dark, brutal, and unforgiving. But from the first graceful movement, and the beautiful melody from the live orchestra, he was captivated with the world of the Swan Lake. You moved with such elegance and emotion that he couldn’t look away, each gesture leaving him more entranced than the last. From that night on, he returned every evening you performed, ignoring his obligations just to see you dance. He became infatuated with the beauty and artistry he hadn’t known could exist. 

The original plan was simple: aquire the theater, reshape it into something profitable, and then use the profits to conceal earnings. But now, the thought of disrupting your world was unbearable. Reluctantly, he abandoned the deal, his priorities now twisted by an enchantment he resented. 

From that very first performance, you unknowingly unraveled the careful fabric of his plans. Seonghwa found himself slipping away from his duties week after week, drawn back to that same old theater. His associates began to worry, questioning his judgement, but he couldn’t help it. He told himself it was just a curiosity or distraction—anything but the truth. You had enchanted him, woven yourself into his thoughts so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to go through with the acquisition. Every time he saw you, he was reminded of what he stood to lose.

His associates were quick to notice his shift, whispering about his lack of judgment and uncharacteristic indecision. They urged him to reconsider, to stay grounded—but he felt himself slipping. Trouble was on the horizon; he could sense it. Part of him loathed you for the hold you had over him, for making him slack off from his responsibilities. Yet, night after night, he was drawn back, helpless against the spell you’d cast, unable to break free, and unwilling to let go.

Seonghwa knew he couldn’t keep living like this. His soul was burning hopelessly, and he needed to put out this fire fast. 

—

It was quiet now, the theater emptying as the final notes of the orchestra still seemed to hang faintly in the air. You slipped into your dressing room, exhausted yet exhilarated, the glow of the performance still warming you as you changed out of your costume. Carefully, you removed your stage makeup, wiping away the traces of the Swan Queen. The transformation always felt strange, trading feathers and grace for the ordinary routine of going home.

You packed your things slowly, placing each item into your bag with a practiced rhythm, already looking forward to the calm of your apartment. But as you reached for your coat, a prickle of unease returned. It was that lingering feeling, the sensation of being watched, that had haunted you all night.

The silence shattered with a sudden, firm knock on the door, catching you off guard. Your heart raced, and before you could even gather yourself to respond, the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. His face appeared in the dim light, and you caught your breath. It was him.

Seonghwa stepped in just enough for his figure to fill the doorway, his familiar dark coat draping around him like a shadow. His expression was unreadable, the same cold, composed look he always wore, yet his eyes held a strange intensity that made you feel hot.

Your heart pounded as he stood there, with his gaze fixed intently on you. You felt a flicker of fear—a quiet, instinctive warning. Everything about him radiated power, a kind of quiet danger that you couldn’t ignore. Yet, having him so close to you now felt exhilarating, almost like you were waiting for him to knock on your door. 

“I hope I’m not intruding,” He apologized, his sharp features now softening in your presence, hoping to disarm you. 

“I’m sorry, c-can I help you with something?”

He paced around your small dressing room, his eyes lingering on the little details—your stage makeup scattered across the vanity, the photo frames of other ballerinas lining the walls. Anxiety twisted in your stomach as you watched him, still unsure of why he was here. Then, he turned to you with an unreadable expression, extending his gloved hand. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice smooth but distant, “Park Seonghwa. I’m from a private equity firm. I know the owner, Hongjoong.” Shakily, you reached out your hand, the leather of his glove feeling cold and unnatural against your skin. You suppressed a shiver as his grip lingered just a second longer than you expected.

“I’m Y/N.” 

"Y/N...Congratulations on being this season’s Swan Queen," he continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You’ve done very well. You must be very pleased with yourself."

You managed a quiet thank you, though the words felt strange on your lips, your usual confidence faltering under his watchful gaze. His praise should have flattered you, but instead, it left you feeling oddly exposed, like he saw more than you intended to show.

He released your hand, but the strange, lingering sensation stayed with you, leaving you both captivated and nervous.

Feeling faint, you sat down on your vanity chair. "So, you know Hongjoong?" you asked, searching for some logic behind his sudden presence.

"I do," he replied smoothly, though there was a slight glint in his eye that betrayed him. "We’ve been discussing a potential business venture together."

The truth, however, was a little more complicated. Seonghwa had met Hongjoong only once, barely enough to call him an acquaintance. From the start, Hongjoong hadn’t seemed eager to hand over his only asset to a man of Seonghwa’s reputation, especially not when rumors swirled about his intention to repurpose the theater into something as mundane as a car wash to serve as a front for his family’s business. But Seonghwa knew how to persuade, and when he named his price, Hongjoong’s reluctance began to waver.

That first night, they’d arranged to negotiate the deal, and Seonghwa had come prepared to secure the theater with his usual finesse. But Hongjoong was running late. Growing tired from standing in the lobby all evening, Seonghwa decided to sit in an empty seat during the show only to rest his feet, but your elegant movements captivated him, and made him forget who he was and why he was there. 

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that made the small room feel even smaller. Your breath hitched as his intense gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The air between you felt charged, the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering cold from his leather gloves.

“But I’m not here to talk about that,” He said, towering over you, “I could actually use your help in something.” 

There was something odd yet inticing about his request. What could he, a possible mob boss, want from someone like you?

“And what might that be?” You asked, your throat suddenly feeling dry. 

He was so close to you now that you could pick up the warming notes of his cologne— spices, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus. You’d seen his face a thousand times before, always shrouded in the dim lighting of the audience, his expression always stoic and muted. But now, with the light catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his plush and perfect lips just inches away from you, he was utterly captivating. You couldn’t look away. 

"You see, I have this problem," he said, pacing slowly around you, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. The air shifted each time he moved, the chill of his absence replaced by an intoxicating warmth as he drew near again. 

"A problem?" you echoed, your voice a little breathless, trying to focus as his reflection loomed behind you in the mirror.

"Mm." He stopped directly behind you, lowering his head closer to the nape of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "It’s you," he admitted, his tone dropping into something dangerously intimate.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"

Seonghwa straightened himself, meeting your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You’re making it very hard for me to focus on my job," he said. His words were as smooth as they were direct. "And when a man like me gets distracted… it causes complications."

He moved again, standing to your side now, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. The closeness was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his presence.

"So," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, "I thought perhaps you could help me resolve this little… issue of mine."

Your mind raced to comprehend the suggestion wrapped in his words. The way he looked at you left no room for misinterpretation, his meaning clear without being crass. You felt a sudden pulse between your legs, forcing you to squeeze your thighs tighter. 

"And how exactly would I… help?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seonghwa tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You’re a clever woman," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your shoulder with deliberate care. "I think you already know."

—

You sat perched on your dressing table, forced to see yourself reflected in the mirror. There was a nervous flutter in your stomach as Seonghwa loomed behind you, his broad shoulders and low eyes making your breath hitch. You watched as he parted your thighs before eagerly ripping at the center seam of your stocking, revealing your glistening cunt to you both. Before you could react, he brought down his gloved hand, tapping on your pulsing clit a few times before pressing down in slow and small circles. 

The coldness of the leather made you gasp, your heartbeat spiraling in excitement. You could see your slick coating his fingers, bringing a faint shine to his black gloves. 

“Such a fat little pussy,” he breathed into your neck, the sudden warmth making a few hairs stand at your nape. He lightly slapped your cunt again, his mouth watering at your chubby, wet folds. “Didn’t think such a sweet little ballerina had something like this between her legs.” 

You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as you took in your reflection, hardly recognizing the scantily clad woman before you. You pressed your eyes shut as he continued pulling a string of shaky, breathless moans from your lips.

“Let’s see how well this little pussy can take me, hm?” He challenged, refusing to wait for your response before inserting a leathered digit into your wet walls. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, struggling to wrap around the thickness of his glove. Seonghwa chuckled at your tightness.

“Please,” You begged, tightly holding onto his working arm. But the desperation in your voice only egged him on. He thrust in a merciless rhythm, the squelching sounds from your arousal sending blood down to his groin. 

“Please what dear? You want more?” Seonghwa grinned devilishly before stuffing in another finger, the sudden stretch sending a mix of pain and pleasure to your core. He worked you open at a brutal pace, soaking in your sweet moans as you gripped onto him tighter. 

You were slowly coming undone, your knees quivering and threatening to cave in. You felt his hand grip onto your inner thigh, holding you open as much as possible for him. It was then that you fluttered your eyes open, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours in the mirror. You felt a twist in your stomach like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You quickly realized that Seonghwa had been watching you in the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he took in every tear tracing your scorned red cheek, the delicate furrow of your brow, and the way your plush, pouty lips let out the softest, most beautiful whines he’d ever heard. Just as enchanting as your expressions were on stage, they were even more alluring here as he ravished you at his will. 

His fingers were so much deeper now, hitting you in all the right places, until the tension inside of you snapped and you finally let go all over his gloved fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sputtered, watching your wetness drip down his gloves. Exhaustion suddenly took over you, forcing your head to fall against his chest. 

“I hope you don’t think we’re finished here,” He whispered, his soft, full lips feathering over your ear lobe, “There’s still a lot of things I need you to do.”

—

You were sprawled out over the table now, your top completely discarded, leaving you in just your ripped stockings. Seonghwa liked the stockings you wore on stage. They were so pearly and smooth, and he almost felt bad for ruining them this way. He leaned down and peppered a trail of kisses under your ear, down to your collarbone, lingering over your hardened peaks briefly, before continuing down to your pelvis. 

You felt a wave of heat spread over you as he kissed around the outside of your cunt before spreading your lips with his fingers, reuniting you with the coldness of the leather. He dragged his long, warm tongue over your hot slit, groaning once your essence reached his tastebuds. 

“You taste just as sweet as you look,” He praised, before wrapping his lips over your swollen clit. He sucked and pulled, swallowing every bit of juice you offered him hungrily. 

Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling as he gleefully lapped away at your cunt. He pressed his strong hands down your inner thighs to keep you still, your puffy pussy now spread completely open for him to devour. He savored every drop of you, like a predator that spent weeks catching its prey.

Seonghwa told himself he’d finally be rid of this infatuation after tonight and return to his duties with no more distractions, but how could he now after seeing you like this? With your body so willing, the sheer afterglow hitting your face and collarbones, the uneasy rise of your chest, and those lustful, messy moans? It all enticed him even further, and he worried he’d never be able to stay away. 

Seonghwa was at his peak now, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He quickly sprang up at his feet, the sounds of his belt unbuckling making your core throb with anticipation. His angry, red tip pressed against your slit, making you gasp at how hot and hard he felt. 

Seonghwa pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch until his shaft was completely sucked in by you. He cursed at your tightness and moved his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth.

“Fuck!” You cried out, curling your toes as he plunged deeper into you. He fucked you hard and rough, determined to take all his anger and frustrations out on you so that he could return to his stoic self. He hated you for throwing him off his game, and he still held onto that hope that he’d finally let go of all his pent up emotions once he finishes fucking your brains out. He just needed to get it out of his system.

You winced at his tight grasp on your hips. His pace was brutal, the sounds of your dressing table rocking against the wall overpowering your desperate screams, yet you refused to open your eyes. You didn’t want to see his face while he thrusted into you with an unspoken vendetta. His gaze alone made you feel even more hot and frazzled. 

Suddenly, you felt his hand creep to the back of your head, pulling your head up by a fistful of strands. You took in a sharp breath, the pain of your pulled hair forcing you to open your eyes at last.

“Look at how good you fucking take me,” He grunted, pushing your head down farther to help you get a good look at his cock stretching out your swollen cunt. “ ‘Take me just like a good girl.” 

Your face grew hot as you watched yourself take him in, eyes bulging at his thick cock that was decorated with pulsing veins and twitched inside of you so deliciously. So drunk off his cock, you found yourself rambling nonsense as he fucked you into oblivion. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me so good!”

You felt you both were melting into each other, your breathing growing erratic and unsteady until you finally lost your composure.

Seonghwa pulled out of you, spilling himself over your wet cunt as he sucked in a breath, making sure to milk out every last drop of his seed. You couldn’t help but watch as he spread his thick, white cum over your swollen pussy lips, your body twitching from the sensitivity. 

When you looked up at him, you found his face flushed as red as yours, his mouth slightly agape, with an expression that caught you off guard. The moody, confident alpha male who had entered your room now seemed unsteady, his composure cracked, leaving him looking utterly broken and confused.

He leaned down, his breath mingling with yours for a fleeting moment before his lips finally pressed against yours. The kiss was seamless, as though the two of you had been meant to move together in this way all along. The warmth of his touch ignited something between you, a spark that quickly became a flame, and a flame that would soon become a raging fire that could never be put out.

Seonghwa's desire for you only intensified in that moment. Whatever his plans had been before tonight, they now felt irrelevant, tangled up in the web of feelings he could no longer suppress. He didn’t know what this meant for his current predicament—how this would complicate everything—but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon. He’s marked his destiny by letting himself be engulfed in the flames.

[adragonprinceswhore]

The Commune

Cult Leader!Aemond x Niece!Reader

Summary: A modern AU where Aemond, power-hungry and high on hubris, is the leader of a commune with a peculiar affection for the Seven.

Warnings: 18+, dark themes (mind the tags!), AFAB reader, depictions of depression, manipulation, coercion, dubcon/noncon, targcest (no description of appearance), fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), facefucking, humiliation, (noncon) spanking, semi-public sex, P in V, breeding kink

Word Count: 19k

A/N: I've wanted to edit this for a while and finally got around to it! It took all week 🫠 I definitely feel like the fic got a face-lift! Enjoy ✨

Leaving

Your heart is beating fast and hard when you wake up.

The shrill sound of your alarm clock does little to ease your tense state, abruptly ruining the quiet calm that had previously occupied your bedroom. Without fully opening your eyes, you reach for its usual spot on the nightstand and press snooze, hoping for a little more serenity before you have to get up and face yet another insufferable day at work.

How could such a dull job cause you so much stress?

Why did it make you wake up each night with a heavy swirl of dread and anxiety tightening in your chest, rendering you unable to fall back asleep?

You’ve never been this tired before, yet you’ve never found sleep harder to obtain.

With a sigh you push yourself out of the warm comfort of your bed. It is so soft and smells like home; laundry detergent and the scented candle you keep on the nightstand.

The forced separation almost makes you cry as your body shivers in your chill bedroom.

Each day as heavy to bear as the next.

You grab the robe you have hanging on the back of the bedroom door and head for the kitchen with slow, heavy steps; dragging your feet behind you.

When had life turned so monotone?

When was the last time you truly enjoyed yourself without thinking about work?

Why did you find yourself in an existential crisis before you’d even had your morning coffee?

You load the small coffee maker, pull out a carton of yoghurt and dump some into a bowl before reaching for the packet of granola standing on top of your fridge.

You grab a mug, pour some coffee into it, and shake up your oat milk before adding a splash.

Same fucking breakfast each day.

Moving to the living room, you curl into yourself on your sofa, turning on the same morning show you always watch as you sip your coffee and feel a tiny bit of relief at the comfort that the warm liquid offers as it slides down your throat.

The unnaturally cheery hosts on TV are in the middle of some segment about reusing egg cartons when your phone vibrates. You already know who it is, tapping on the screen to see “mum” and her usual morning text, asking you how you're feeling and what you have planned for the day.

It's harder to pretend like everything's fine when it's her asking. She can always tell that you're faking it; that whatever you say is just an empty, repetitive attempt at assuring her that you are fine.

You don't really mean any of it.

And she knows.

You shoot her a quick reply, trying to ease her worries but not really having the energy to fully commit,

“I’m good, going to work and meeting up with Sara after”

A small lie, though you are planning on sending a text to see if Sara's available later. Regrettably, your weekly dinners had been reduced to monthly ones, but still.

Do it for mum.

“Have you finished checking the reports I asked you to look over?”

Gwayne does not even spare you a glance as he comes up to your desk in the office, eyes glued to his phone and thumbs violently tapping the screen. He wasn’t the worst boss to have, but he certainly wasn’t nice or understanding either, promptly ignoring any signs of distress you were showing. You know you have been looking worse and worse as the stress of the job has settled in; skin going duller and bags under your eyes becoming more prominent. Yet, he stubbornly says nothing, relying on you to finish work swiftly without ever talking back or asking for some guidance.

“Yes, I just have to glance them over one last time before I forward them to you”, you answer, noticing how tedious your voice has become.

He hums, eyes still on his phone,

“And then I’ll need you to double-check that you’ve replied to any urgent emails before going home today. Would really fuck up my schedule next week if I’d have to keep track of your inbox as well”

“Yes, sure”, you reply before even taking in what Gwayne had told you,

“Wait, what do you mean? Next week?”, you question, seeing him briefly scrunch his eyebrows together before finally looking up from his phone, locking eyes with you,

“Yes, you have next week off, remember? Last chance to use up those paid days off you’ve accumulated, and the union has made it quite clear that we cannot give you a bonus instead”, he rolls his eyes at the last part.

“Week off? But I have meetings lined up next week, deadlines closing in”

Despite knowing that you probably need the break, you feel the familiar tightening in your chest as you consider all tasks you were planning on doing next week.

Gwayne, seeming to be done with the conversation, turns and walks away from your desk, eyes again locked on his phone as he replies, “Then you’ll just have to get it sorted today”

“Well that’s lovely, sweetheart!”

Rhaenyra’s voice sounds relieved when you tell her the news of your unplanned week off. You had been forced to stay at the office for two additional hours just to make sure that you finished up any urgent business, resulting in you cancelling the dinner plans you'd made with Sara and consequently spending another evening by yourself at home.

“Why don’t you get away for a bit? You might enjoy a change of scenery?”, she asks.

You were too exhausted to even think about planning and booking a trip, replying “Yeah, sure” dispassionately as you stir the pot of pasta cooking on the stove.

All you want to do is lay in bed, listen to music and try as best as you can to turn your brain off; to not think about anything.

Contently brainless.

You don't want to think about how you’d gotten your dream job, just to realise that you despise it.

You don't want to think about how every day felt like a repetition of the one before, nothing exciting ever happening.

You don't want to think about the strong suspicion you have that every fucking choice you’ve ever made has lead you to a life that you detest.

“Why don’t you go visit Helaena? I know she’s misses you”, your mothers voice pulls you away from the negative thoughts spiralling in your head,

“I think the place is about two hours by train from Oldtown, out in the country. Maybe some fresh air would do you good?”

You knew Helaena had moved out to the country about a year ago, exhausted and overstimulated from the suffocating drain of the fast-paced city that King’s Landing is. She’d sent you a letter, not a text or a call, some time ago to let you know that she was okay and she’d love it if you came by to visit her.

“Mm, I do miss her…”, you mumble into your phone, thinking of the last time you’d seen her. It was Aegon’s birthday almost one and a half years ago. She’d seemed lost and sad. Like she often did.

Like you often did, nowadays.

“Yeah, maybe that’d do me some good”, you finally agree, hearing Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief at your words. You know she's worried you’d stay home all week, doing nothing but dwelling in sadness.

“That’s lovely, dear! I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to see you. You know Aemond lives there too, right?"

You’d heard that Aemond had left King’s Landing shortly after finishing his PhD as well. You’d been with your mum when Alicent called her, filled to the brim with worry over her overachieving son turning down a position at Oldtown University in order to move out to the middle of nowhere, claiming that he’d be "conducting private research".

You had actually been excited for him to move to Oldtown. Having some family close by would’ve been a nice escape from the loneliness of the city.

Besides, you and Aemond had drifted apart as you both grew older, despite being thick as thieves in your childhood.

Maybe it’d be nice to see him too.

You lean your head against the train window, watching the city landscape make way for the lush greenery of the Reach in late summer.

Being trapped in the city you’d almost forgotten how beautiful it was here; a stark difference from Dragonstone, where you’d spent most of your upbringing.

It's not that you don't miss the sea. As a child, you'd loved the way the harsh, salty winds whipped at your face, leaving you wet and impossibly refreshed as you stared out towards the horizon, thinking of everything awaiting you there.

The potential of what your life could've become felt a lot more comforting than the reality of it.

You hadn't been able to call Helaena to inform her that you’d like to visit. Apparently, she didn’t have a mobile phone anymore, but after sending a text to Alicent you’d gotten a hold of her new number; a landline.

You didn’t know how she managed without a smartphone, but figured that the stress of constant notifications might have made her decide to ditch it.

Grabbing your bag from between your legs, your hand rummages through it in blind search for your pocket mirror.

You pull it out, open it and check your reflection.

Still the same tired face, with dark bags permanently residing under your eyes. You hadn’t slept well last night either, despite having some much needed rest from work.

Why was your body seemingly incapable of relaxing?

You feel around for some concealer, dotting a bit on your finger and patting it under your eye; a useless attempt at hiding the fatigue prevalent on your face.

Defeated, you lean back in your seat.

The train ride's nice. You spend the entire 2 hours and 12 minutes listening to music, watching the scenery flash by.

Thoroughly zoned out, you nearly miss the conductor announcing your station.

You hastily grab your bag and rush out of the door. The station, if you could even call it that, is small; just two tracks going opposite directions.

It's closer to a bus stop, a place where people get off and quickly make way to their final destination.

You spot Helaena immediately. She's standing on the platform in a lilac summer dress, her silver hair shining in the sunlight.

Although you can only really make out her silhouette, she seems different. As you come closer, the wide smile that she sports comes into view.

Gosh, she looks radiant!

So different from her gloomy, distant self back in King’s Landing.

“I’m so happy you’re here!”, she squeals, wrapping you in her arms.

She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, burying your nose in her hair. It feels good to hug someone you care for.

When was the last time you did that?

“Thank you for having me”, you respond as Helaena pulls away, still holding you in her arms, eyes flickering over your face.

Her smile falters for a second before it returns and she starts talking excitedly about her new home, telling you that it’s only a 20 minute walk from the station and you could catch up on the way.

You follow her down the steps from the platform, answering a few questions about work and your life in Oldtown.

She leads you away from the small station, down a path where a few houses lay scattered sporadically.

You can hardly call this a town; far too minuscule. Still, you notice what seems to be a little supermarket, a pharmacy, a gas station and what looks like an elementary school, facing the tiny town square.

“I’ve been hoping you’d come visit ever since I sent you that letter”, Helaena gushes, taking your hand in hers as she led you down a small path going off the main road,

���I just know you’ll love our commune. Aemond thinks so too!”, she continues while squeezing your hand in hers.

“Commune?”, you ask and turn to face her.

She met your eyes and nods, face breaking out into a wide grin once again,

“Yes, Aemond’s research project! You know he specialised in philosophy when he did his PhD in Political Science, right? Well, he got really into the idea of having people live in smaller communities instead of the impersonal and detached lifestyles people pursue in modern cities”, she explains, eyes once again inspecting your face, only to land on the bags under your eyes.

You hum in response, seeing if she’ll continue.

“So, he used some of the money he had stored away in funds and created our commune; a small community where everyone knows each other and we get away from the stresses of city life. We grow our own crops, spend time outside and work together to keep the place running”, she explains, eyes gleaming with adoration,

“He said he did it for me, since he saw how bad my depression had gotten back in King’s Landing”, she adds, and you squeeze her hand affectionately. Aemond had always cared for Helaena, no one else seemed to truly understand her like he did.

“So, you feeling better now? Out here?”, you inquire, gesturing towards the green field you walk through, hand in hand.

You're not really paying attention to where you're going as Helaena guides you. Looking up, you find yourself surrounded by nature; not a building in sight.

The sun shines brightly, illuminating the beech trees towering over you, creating a roof of light green luminance.

“Yes, much better”, she replies with a smile. She seems so at peace here, encapsulating a kind of beauty that comes from within and hypnotises anyone laying eyes on her.

“And this, ehm, commune. How many people live there now?”, you ask, not knowing you’d be spending your time with a bunch of strangers.

Truth be told, you really didn’t feel up for it.

You barely have energy to hang out with Helaena and Aemond. Entertaining and getting to know new people would be especially draining.

“We’re already about 50 people. Most of them met Aemond when he was still in school”, she replies.

As if she could sense your uneasiness, her eyes search yours as she adds, “You’ll love them, I swear! Everyone’s super nice”

Together, you continue your path, walking up a small hill. As you look down, the commune comes into view.

You see small, cottage-looking houses, with large flowerbeds between them, filled with everything from herbs to vegetables.

There's a large building the middle of the field with walls much taller than the cottages. The building's made out of wood; a dark tone that contrasts against the light trees and green fields you’d passed on the way over.

Above the large entrance of the building is a large carving, resembling the seven-pointed star of the Faith.

Helaena, still excitedly chatting next to you about how lovely life is out in the country, pulls you towards the large building in quick steps,

“Aemond's dying to meet you! It’s been so long. I bet he’s in the Sept”, she explains, leading you through the tall, open door.

Your parents aren't particularly religious, which means you hadn’t spent much time in Septs and the like. Alicent’s family, however, were rather devoted; an integral part of the many faith's many fractions in Oldtown.

When you were younger, both Helaena and Aemond had spent a lot of time studying The Seven-Pointed Star. Still, the fact that they'd chosen to construct a Sept in such a small community shocks you.

Maybe they're more dedicated than you’d thought?

Entering the Sept, you recognise the back of a tall man with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long, silvery hair, tied in a low bun.

Helaena calls his name and he turns around, finding your gaze in an instant. His lone, purple eye crinkles slightly as he smiles at you, calling out your name in greeting.

Just like Helaena, he looks radiant; pale skin glowing, dress shirt and dark slacks perfectly ironed, and not a hair out of place.

As a child he was always so moody; volatile and sensitive.

Now, he seems so calm.

Too calm.

Like he was faking it.

“Welcome to our home. I hope the trip here wasn’t too draining?”, he asks, inspecting your fatigued face.

Seven hells, did everyone think you looked like the walking dead?

“It was a lovely ride out here. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the country is” you answer, trying your best to sound cheerier than you look.

He hums at your answer, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. You can't make out if it's supposed to be an attempt at a greeting, or a way to comfort you.

His eye bores into yours,

“We’re so happy to finally have you here. Helaena will help you get sorted in one of our rooms and then I’ll introduce you to everyone”

His hand swiftly leaves your shoulder before he turns around, striding out of the large wooden doors of the Sept.

Reconnecting

After a few hasty greetings, you retreat to the room Helaena and Aemond have assigned to you.

You're exhausted from being bombarded with impressions, and collapse on your bed, finding uninterrupted sleep for the first time in months.

Hours later, you wake up to the sun illuminating your room, a low knocking sound by your door.

As your groggy mind slowly realises where you are, you hear Helaena call you from the outside, informing you that breakfast will be served in a few minutes.

You get up and move to the basin placed in the corner of your room, splashing some water on your face, checking your sleepy reflection.

You instantly notice that the heavy bags that had seemed to be a permanent feature under your eyes have faded slightly, and you look better and brighter than you had in a long time.

Mood elevated, you move to throw on a flowy, knee-length skirt and a linen blouse, reasoning that something loose-fitting would match the sunny, late-summer climate.

Stepping outside, the air is crisp.

The sun provides warmth as it makes contact with your skin, a welcomed relief to the slight chill still lingering.

You notice that the residents of the small community have gathered by a long, wooden table placed in the middle of a field not far away from where you stand. You quickly make your way there, spotting Helaena. Her eyes light up as she sees you approach, greeting you with a wide smile,

“We always have breakfast together”, she explains as people move around you swiftly, placing plates of bread, yoghurt, pastries, fresh fruit and vegetables on the massive table.

You spot Aemond, hands behind his back and posture straigh as he observes the people scurrying around him. He glances at you, giving you a small smile and a nod before he returns to his previously stoic state, observing the residents while they prepare for breakfast.

Helaena reappears next to you, arms wrapped around 5 glass vases filled with wildflowers. You help her place them on the table, admiring how utterly beautiful the set up looks.

The commune, as you'd heard one resident call it, has a simplistic aesthetic. Most rooms are only occupied by whatever furniture’s necessary to maximise functionality; tables, chairs and beds made out of wood, decorated with nature-toned linens.

Yet, there is a beauty to it you’d hardly seen before; an appreciation for a simple charm that's often lost in the hectic mess of cities like Oldtown or King’s Landing.

You take a seat next to Helaena, eager to devour the delicious-looking food in front of you.

Though most residents are seated by now, no one moves to touch the various plates filled to the brim with mouth-watering food.

You look over at the end of the long table and notice Aemond standing, hands still clasped behind his back. He softly clears his throat, and the cheery chatter dissolves in an instance, all eyes shifting to watch the tall, silver-haired man standing before them,

“Good morning. I hope you all slept well and feel ready for a day of prosperity”, Aemond starts, eye moving across the table to acknowledge everyone present.

Most of the residents are older than both you and Aemond. You even heard that a handful of them used to be his professors back in King’s Landing.

You're still not sure how he’d managed to get them all to move out here, but as he speaks, you notice how intensely everyone observes him, taking in every word that leaves his lips,

“Let us pray”, he orders, and each one of your tablemates bring their hands up to clasp over their empty plates before closing their eyes.

Aemond sends you a look you can’t really decipher. You assume he wants you to partake in the prayer, so you lower your head and clasp your hands together as well.

Aemond pays tribute to all seven faces of the new God before thanking all residents for attending, voice calm and steady.

As the prayers end, everyone shifts their focus to the food. You feel unsure of what to try; everything looks so good.

Helaena makes the decision for you, grabbing your plate, loading it with bread and various spreads and toppings for you to try.

“You’ll love this”, she urges as she places the plate in front of you, lilac eyes eagerly awaiting your reaction.

She's right. Everything tastes divine and you eat until you feel like your stomach is about to burst.

Meanwhile, you try to engage in some small-talk with the people sitting closest to you around the massive table.

To your right sits Jayne, a woman you’d guess to be in her early fifties, with sun-kissed skin and kind, brown eyes. She tells you about her tasks at here, mainly growing herbs and flowers.

She shoots a quick glance at a dark-haired woman sitting by Aemond further down the table, explaining that she grows and tends to various plants which are grown at the request of the woman she’s observing; Alys.

After breakfast you offer to help collect and wash up the dishes, feeling a strong need to be useful as you see all residents retreat to their respective tasks for the day.

As you circle the outside table with an already overfilled tray in your hands, you spot a tall figure appear beside you.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

You look to the side and see Aemond standing there. He's wearing a dress shirt and dark slacks today as well, though his hair is left untied, cascading down his shoulders and reflecting the light of the sun.

He offers you a timid smile as he asks, mimicking the way he used to look when he was younger. It's a stark contrast to how he appeared during breakfast; authoritative and intimidating.

You return his smile and nod. Perhaps a walk would do you good.

He instructs one of the residents to take over your work and they do so without protest. You send them an apologetic look and mumble a "thank you" as you follow Aemond, who’s already set sight on the small path leading away from the settlement and towards the compact trees of the surrounding forest.

The two of you walk in silence, basking in the lovely scenery surrounding you. The light green trees seem to shimmer in the sun, and as you make your way into the forest, you spot a small river; surface reflecting the lush greenery of the leaves.

“How is life in Oldtown? Has my uncle been giving you a hard time?”, Aemond asks, eye looking forward as he breaks the silence.

You swallow and mentally prepare yourself before answering, not wanting to let him in on how miserable you’ve been.

“Yeah it’s been interesting. A lot of new challenges but I’m hanging in there”, you answer, and despite your attempt at sounding casual, the sadness residing within you drips through and stains your voice.

Aemond abruptly halts and turns to you, eye boring into yours as he contemplatively licks his lips.

“There's no need for that here”, he states, voice suddenly sterner than before.

“What do you mean?”

Your cheeks grow hot and your palms feel clammy as you grow embarrassed over how easily he sees through your fake cheeriness.

“You don’t need to lie to me. It’s only us here, I won’t judge you”, he replies, maintaining the intense eye contact between the two of you.

It feels like a dam bursts within you; a force so strong you're helpless to it, and your sight turns blurry.

Any attempts you’ve made to appear strong have failed and all that is left is the truth; that you'r stuck in a permanent state of misery.

Broken.

You feel your throat close up and you desperately try to swallow before answering,

“I ha-, have been feeling a bit, ehm, lost”, you admit, and as you finally utter the words, admitting to yourself and confiding in him that you feel disoriented, tears spill out of the corners of your eyes.

You try to take deep breaths to soothe yourself and regain some control over your emotions, but it's too hard.

Why can’t you pull yourself together?

Aemond regards you for a moment, allowing you time to process the sudden crash of emotions overcoming you, before he places a hand on your upper arm, gently dragging his fingers over the fabric of your blouse.

“You’re allowed to feel lost”, he looks into your eyes and there is something there; a tenderness you haven’t seen since you were both much younger.

You can’t stop the tears from flowing anymore as you weakly nod at his words, the lump in your throat leaving you unable to properly answer him. His seeing eye is so gentle as it gazes into yours,

“Many of us here felt lost, hopeless even. But the community we’ve built allowed us to reconnect with our inner selves; helped us feel happier”

He moves the hand that had been on your arm to your face, experimentally stroking your cheek. You lean into his touch by reflex, relishing in the feeling of his warm hand on your wet cheek.

“You don’t have to pretend here, not with me”

As he speaks you move closer to him, pressing your body against his and wrapping your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly, just like you did so many times in your childhood.

He understands what you need and hugs you back, holding you against his chest, softly stroking your hair. And despite the agony in your chest and the lump in your throat, you feel okay; escaping into his warm embrace to momentarily forget all your sorrows.

You stay like that for a while, bodies interlocked with each other as Aemond lets you cry. He doesn't say anything, continuously stroking your hair. It feels emancipating; crying your heart out in the arms of your uncle.

As your tears dry, you gently push yourself away from Aemond’s embrace and run the back of your hand over your cheeks in an attempt to remove some of the wetness. Aemond’s eye still looks gentle as he regards you,

“I know that life's not always what you thought it’d be, and leaving home is scary. But you’re with family now. Me and Hel are so pleased that you’re here with us”

You smile at him, saying a quiet "thank you" as he motions for you to carry on with your walk.

You continue to talk and catch up on what’s been going on in your lives since you last met.

Aemond tells you about his research project; how he believes that modern capitalism renders people mere objects utilised for profit by companies, consequently leaving them lacking agency and without a belief in higher powers, generating a generation of depressed, lost souls.

You take in everything he says. He speaks with such confidence that you feel yourself agreeing instantaneously.

In truth, you also felt like an object at work; a machine there to execute tasks, without any possibility to change your condition.

You listen to him talk so intensively you don't even realise you’re back at the residence.

What sounds like a fight in hushed voices pulls you away from your conversation with Aemond as you look up to search for where the voices are coming from.

You see one of the residents you had breakfast with, Jayne, kneel down in front of Alys, grasping at her apron and pleading to her in a quiet, desperate voice,

“I didn't mean to, please believe me!”

Shocked, you look over at Aemond who suddenly looks stern, wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. His eye's set on the scene in front of you, yet he does not intervene.

As you open your mouth to ask him what's going on, he grabs your arm and promptly leads you into the Sept, closing the door behind you.

“Helaena will meet you here, she wanted to show you her insect farm. Do not leave until she collects you”, he commands, voice stoic but intimidating, leaving no room for argument.

Before you have a chance to reply he quickly opens the door, and leaves.

You spend the afternoon with Helaena, exploring her insect farm and listening to her tell you of all the benefits the farm provides.

Afterwards, you still feel the unease from earlier vibrate within you, causing you to feel restless. In an attempt to be useful, you offer to help some of the residents as they prepare the large outdoor dining space for supper.

You chat with one of the younger people there, a man who appears to be in his early 20’s called Jon.

He tells you about how he met Aemond. As part of his PhD programme, Aemond held some lectures for first-year students, and Jon had attended his class on international conflict and crisis.

They’d started talking outside of Aemond’s lectures and found that they had much in common, especially in regards to their view of the world, and what was wrong with it. Aemond had mentioned his wish to move out of the city with his sister, and Jon was intrigued in an instance.

You continue your conversation with Jon, finding him easy to chat with. He's surprisingly funny too, joking and making you laugh, easing your anxiety. Feeling yourself relax and grow more comfortable, you decide to pry a bit, confiding in Jon,

“I wasn’t brought up with the faith, so I have to ask. Why did you decide to build a large Sept in a small settlement like this?”, you ask as you help Jon place cutlery by the plates on the table.

His relaxed and cheerful demeanour stiffens at your question. His eyes leave the silverware on the table to meet yours,

“You don’t know?”

His face appears genuinely surprised, and his eyes are wide in question. Before you get a chance to answer, a raspy voice interrupts your conversation,

“Jon! How lovely of you to entertain our guest”

The woman who you’ve learned goes by Alys appears, emerald eyes locking with yours as you turn to meet her.

“I’m Alys, it is so nice to meet you”

She stretches out a hand and gives you a practised smile. Her features looks pleasant; far from how harsh they'd appeared when Jayne had been kneeling before her.

You try to smile back at her and tell her your name, though you suspect she already knows exactly who you are. You look over at Jon who appears nervous, hands fidgeting with a fork.

“I believe Aemond wants to see you, in his office”, Alys sight does not leave Jon, eyes boring into him, but you both know she is addressing you.

You can’t come up with anything to say or do; anxious to find out what it is that Aemond wants from you and desperate to get away from the intense, silent fight between Jon and Alys taking place before your eyes.

You shoot Jon a quick apologetic glance before moving toward the Sept, leaving him with Alys.

Aemonds office is located behind the large altar in the Sept. As you approach, you feel yourself grow tenser; stiffer.

You quickly try to run your sweaty palms over your skirt before raising one hand and softly tapping your knuckles against the heavy wood.

Aemond calls for you to come in and you enter, standing awkwardly by the door.

What does he want with you?

Had you overstepped when you spoke with Jon?

Or will he let you in on what had happened between Alys and Jayne when you came back from your walk?

Something about this place and Aemond makes you unexplainably uneasy, but you're unable to pin-point what it is that reduces you to a mess of nerves.

Your eyes keep flicking up at Aemond and down at the floor. You can't maintain eye contact with him, his stare too intense.

Fiery.

“I heard you offered to help Jon prepare supper?”, he inquires. His voice is completely devoid of any emotions, making your uneasiness grow.

He had an eerie calmness to him that did little to soothe you; rather, it made you grow even more restless.

“Y-, yes, well, I only helped him with bringing out plates and such”, you rushedly explain, words pouring out of your mouth, “I'm so sorry if I overstepped or made a mistake, that wasn’t my intention”

Aemond beckons you over, pushing his chair from where it’s placed by the desk, holding out his hand. You grab it without a second thought and he begins stroking his thumb over the back of your palm, looking up at you, a sliver of sympathy evident in his dark gaze,

“Why did you assist him?”, he asks softly and you answer that you just wanted to be helpful; that it feels strange seeing everyone else work hard and not contribute.

Aemond hums and leans back in his chair, hand still holding yours.

“You shouldn’t do other peoples chores for them. Everyone here has responsibilities that they should conduct in solitude”, he explains and you nod, though you can’t understand the harm in helping someone with a menial task like setting the table for supper.

“Don’t worry, no one is upset with you”, he adds to reassure you that you haven’t wronged anyone. You feel yourself relax somewhat, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

Aemond looks you over and his gaze stops at your shoulders, noticing the strain there,

“You are still so tense”, he notes and you hum.

Stress, working at a desk for over 40 hours per week and lack of sleep had left your body in a constant, rigid state.

“Come here”, he commands and tugs at your arm unexpectedly, making you stumble forward. His other hand comes up to wrap around your waist, placing you on his thigh.

He looks into your eyes and the close proximity makes you slightly uncomfortable.

“You’ve always been so nervous; anxious since we were young”, he says as the hand that had been holding yours travels down to rest on your clothed thigh. The arm he has around you midriff tightens as if he’s expecting you to move away,

“Let me help you relax”, he offers, voice soft.

With gentle fingers, he slowly traces patterns on your leg. You do not know what he means by helping you, but you trust him.

He managed to makes you feel better before.

You stay put on his lap and he takes that as permission to continue, letting his hand travel down to where your skirt ends, fingers caressing your knee.

A breath gets caught in your throat as his hand moves upwards, slinking in under the fabric of your skirt; warm palm softly touching the smooth skin of your thigh. Aemond lets out a sigh at the contact and you suddenly feel uneasy, squirming in his grip.

“Aemond, what are you doing?”, you ask, voice slightly panicked.

His arm tightens around your waist as you try to move, hand continuing its path up your skirt.

“Didn’t it feel liberating to ease the pressure within when you cried in my arms earlier?”, he inquires and you look at him puzzled.

He still appears stoic but the pupil of his eye is blown wide; enveloping his iris.

“Let me take care of you. Just relax”, he commands as his hand reaches the apex of your thighs, index finger coming up to touch your bundle of nerves over your underwear experimentally.

You gasp and try to squirm out of his hold again, but he is much stronger; body rigid as he holds you.

He moves his head down to rest in the crock of your neck, shushing your protests. His fingers continue their slow massage over your underwear, and you feel yourself grow wetter from his attention.

Both your mind and your body have frozen.

Although you know it’s wrong, you let yourself lean into the pleasure Aemond is providing you, feeling yourself drift away; mind letting go of your senses as Aemond's touch consumes you.

When his fingers travel to the edge of your underwear, sliding inside, it’s like a bucket of cold water is poured over you.

You regain consciousness, bringing your hand up to try and push his away,

“Aemond we can’t do this, don’t-”, you plea, embarrassed by the fact that you can feel the evidential stickiness of your arousal between your legs.

Aemond tuts at you and pushes his fingers to make contact with the skin of your cunt, delighted at the wetness that greets him,

“You want this", he speaks quietly into your neck, "You need this. Be a good girl for me and let it happen”

You sit in his lap stiffly and as you're about to protest once more, his fingers circle your clit, causing a startled moan to slip out of your disobliging mouth.

Aemond chuckles against your skin and presses a light kiss to your neck,

“I knew you’d like it”

His words feel taunting, and your cheeks sear with shame.

The conflicting feelings storming inside you do little to hinder the arousal you're experiencing.

As his fingers travel down to your entrance, you again feel your common sense slip away and pleasure overtaking you.

He gathers some of the wetness from your entrance and brings it back up to your clit, making you sigh in involuntary pleasure again.

He positions his hand so that the heel of his palm is right by your bundle of nerves, leaving his fingers free to tease your entrance. He stays like that for a while, teasing you while pressing his palm against your clit.

The pleasure builds inside of you at a rapid pace.

He slowly sinks two fingers inside and you cannot contain the loud moan that escapes you, grabbing his arm with both hands. You grip him tightly, but cannot bring yourself to pry his hand away like you’d tried before, the pleasure too overpowering.

He sets a steady pace, palm pushing against your clit and fingers continuously finding that spot within you that causes your thighs to shake.

Your breath grows heavy, pleasure tightening inside you rapidly, and suddenly you don't want him to stop.

You hear Aemond’s breath growing laboured against your neck as well, giving it his all as he holds you in place and pleasures you.

You bite your lip to not let more moans slip out as pleasure begins to consume you.

Why did it feel so good?

Your walls began to contract against Aemond’s fingers as your peak approaches, and distantly, you hear him encourage you to let go.

As you do, you let out a pleasured cry, soaking his fingers. Your body stiffens while pleasure shoots through you; traveling from your lower stomach to your chest and down your limbs.

Your body slumps against Aemond, who moves his face out from the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers,

“Good girl”

Assimilating

You can’t take in anything Helaena is saying.

You watch her lips move, try your hardest to take in her words, but nothing sticks. You hum and nod in reply, but haven’t got a clue to what you just agreed.

Should you tell her about what happened in Aemond’s office?

What if she tells him?

What if she tells mum?

Bile rises in the back of your throat at the thought.

What if your mum found out what her brother had done with her daughter?

What if she found out how good he’d made you feel?

That you liked it.

The only consolation to your misery is the fact that Aemond is sitting where he’d sat before, at the end of the long, beautifully decorated wooden table, looking out at everyone as if nothing was wrong. Like this was any other supper.

Maybe nothing was wrong?

Maybe you'd just imagined the entire thing?

Still, you can't bear to meet his gaze. You continue to channel all of your energy into the conversation you were having with Helaena. Or rather, that she was having with you.

“So when the queen bee dies, her workers will select a new queen from the larva and feed her this special thing called ‘royal jelly’ to make her fertile”, she cheerily says, smiling from ear to ear,

“Everyone here in our community gets to focus their attention on their chosen topic of interest, mine being insects and biology. I’ve learned so much, nature is truly fascinating”

Again, you notice how elated Helaena seems to be here. Her eyes shine as she continues to tell you about her life in the country, tending to insect farms.

It's hard to imagine that this is the same girl who’d been a shell of a person before.

As children, she had developed a tendency to pull away from others, choosing to fold into herself and push the world around her away.

Seeing her this animated and filled with life should make you happy for her.

But it feels off.

The following days go by quickly.

Sensing your need to feel useful, the members of Aemond's commune assign you daily tasks, like helping out with harvesting plants, preparing meals and cleaning up the Sept.

The building doesn’t seem to be used for ceremonies or communal prayer. Instead, the residents utilise it privately throughout the day; though you're not let in on their purpose.

Although not being too familiar with the Seven, you swear you could remember Aemond and Helaena attending services at the Sept when you were younger, not merely going there in solitude. Maybe they prayed together as well sometimes?

Another benefit of focusing on productivity was the distraction it gave you from thinking about what had occurred between you and your uncle three days prior.

Despite the initial disgust you'd felt, you had now decided that if you acted like it never happened, maybe it never did.

You’d sworn to never bring it up with Aemond, or ever tell anyone else for that matter.

He was still the Aemond you’d grown up with; the sensitive boy with a strong will, always on a mission to prove himself.

He’d always been a bit too ‘by the book’. Maybe he sincerely thought that you would enjoy it?

He might've read something about Freud’s theory on female hysteria and the power of orgasmic release, seeing the act as more of a medical procedure than a sexual encounter?

A weak theory, but still.

---

Despite helping out at every corner of the residence, you hadn’t seen Alys since leaving her with Jon.

But this morning, after Aemond had asked you to help the residents clean up the leftovers from breakfast, you spot her standing next to your uncle, talking about something in hushed voices while watching the residents tidy up.

Although you'd only spent a few days here, Aemond and Alys' position at the top of the hierarchy of the small community was evident.

They both had an air of authority about them that was hard to overlook, making the pair appear intimidating in a way that only a strict superior could.

Yet, they both choose to be soft spoken whenever they address the residents, often complimenting them on their diligent work.

Observing the duo, you notice Aemond nod towards you, which prompts Alys to approach, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder,

“I’d like for you to help me today”, she states, and although her voice is soft, as if asking a question, there seems to be no room for disagreement.

She ushers you to follow her as she makes way towards one of the almost overflowing flower beds; copious plants fighting for space.

Like every day since your arrival, the weather is practically perfect; sunny but with a comforting breeze passing through the fields. Alys reaches for two weaved baskets resting against the small cottage wall close by and hands you one before kneeling down by the flower bed. You follow her, admiring the abundance of herbs in front of you.

You’d never witnessed such a variety of plants grow so vigorously together. You’d hardly thought it to be possible. Maybe the weather and temperature conditions here were optimal? Or maybe they’d genetically modified the crops?

Alys' gentle, low voice breaks the silence,

“How has the stay here been for you so far?”

Even though you’d told yourself; decided that you’d never think about what had happened between you and Aemond in his office again, her questions forces your mind back there.

Sitting on his lap. His fingers inside you; stretching you out.

You shake your head slightly in an attempt to erase the thought.

You’re never going to think about that again.

You can’t.

“It’s been great. Everyone’s so welcoming and I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with Helaena”, you reply, focusing on the positive aspects of your visit.

It was all true; during your time here you’d felt welcomed and comforted. Cared for, even.

“That’s lovely”, Alys replies with a smile as she begins to pick basil leaves off the thin stem of the plant. “We’ve worked hard to create an environment where our residents can thrive, just like you seem to be doing”, she explains and your forehead wrinkles in contemplative confusion.

Are you thriving here?

You certainly look a lot better.

Your skin has almost started to glow. You wake up in the mornings feeling refreshed and rested.

But that could just be down to the fact that you’d found uninterrupted sleep. Plus, the appetising food served here seems healthy, consisting of ingredients the residents grew and prepared themselves.

“Well, the fresh air and delicious meals certainly help one thrive”, you reply with an unconvinced chuckle.

Alys’ eyes light up as they sweep over your face,

“You enjoy the food? I’m happy to hear that. I’ve put all of the past year's energy into curating the plants, grains and menu here”, she tells you, pride causing her to straighten up, sitting a bit taller.

“You truly have a gift, Alys. Any tips for an amateur like me?”, you inquire, relaxing a bit now that the conversation has taken a lighter turn.

She smiles at you and pulls out a small, green tin from the large pocket in the middle of the apron she’s wearing. She opens the lid and pulls out brass spoon. It’s filled with what looks like dirt, or clay, and smells similar to a compost.

Your nose wrinkles as she scoops some of the brown mush inside the tin onto her spoon, placing it by the plant's roots before firmly patting it down with the back of the utensil.

“I was doing my PhD at King’s Landing University before moving here. I was researching phytotherapy”, she explains as she scoops out another spoonful of brown mush from the tin and moves to add it to the next plant's roots.

“I was in my final year, fully consumed by my dissertation. Despite loving the topic, I was so stressed by my academic career that I seriously considered dropping everything and moving back to Harrentown. Then, I heard my professor tell me about this brilliant young man in the Political Science department”

Speaking about Aemond, her eyes almost look dreamy,

“His ideas were so radical, yet so natural, you know? He wanted to create a community where people were allowed to pursue their passions without the stressors of modern society. Where the Seven provide enough guidance”

You feel uneasiness creep up your spine. Her facial expression is almost trance-like as she talks about Aemond; as if he's a deity, ready to be worshipped.

“Well, modern society provides us with plenty of comforts as well, don’t you think?”, you counter with a strained laugh, trying to ease the mood a bit,

“What would you do if, like, one of the members got sick?”

Alys huffs a laugh as well and smiles to herself as she eyes the tin in her hand,

“We always get by”

After a quick lunch break, you continue to help Alys with various tasks around the residence; picking flowers, vegetables and herbs for her, plucking out weeds and organising seeds for future harvests.

You’d never seen seeds like the ones she showed you before; pitch-black in colour and almost supernaturally round.

When she saw your expression, she snorted a laugh and explained that they were from Yi Ti, used by herbalists for centuries.

She did not, however, answer you when you asked what they were going to be used for.

Although her presence had felt intimidating at first, you'd now grown calm around Alys. Something about her was almost bewitching.

Like the way her emerald eyes would lock with yours whenever you spoke, or how graciously she moved about the commune, greeting each resident in a gentle voice.

You also noticed that they never met her gaze, eyes cast down as she approached, only uttering a few polite phrases before rushing away.

Feeling more at ease spurred your confidence, and so you ask her what you’ve been aching to know for the past days,

“The other day…-", you begin with a wavering voice,

"-What happened between you and Jayne?”

You try to sound as casual as possible, but it only makes you sound strange.

Alys, who’s been picking some wildflowers from one of the fields close to the residence, doesn’t slow her pace for even the briefest of moments as she answers you, eyes still on the stem of the flower in front of her,

“Nothing for you to worry about”

She plucks the flower and gently places it in her weaved basket before moving to the next one.

“Okay”, you reply with uncertainty, “She seemed very upset though”

Alys finally looks up from the flowers she’s plucking and meets your gaze,

“Actions have consequences. I’m sure you know that. But with the justice of the father and the grace of the mother, mistakes can be forgiven”

Her face is much sterner than before. The comfort of familiarity that had blossomed between the two of you disappears in an instance, and you feel uneasy as her eyes narrow.

“Jayne has been forgiven and we will move forward. Just like how Aemond forgave you”

Alys turns around and quickly makes way towards the Sept, disappearing inside and closing the door behind her.

Forgave you for what?

For what happened in Aemond's office?

Did she know about that?

As the members of the commune prepare for supper, you go back to your room to have some time to yourself, mindlessly scrolling your phone while lying in bed.

The reception out here's not great, and now that you think about it, you hadn't seen any mobile phones during your stay, only a land-line hanging on the wall in Aemond's office.

After what happened with him, your mind had been too preoccupied to put any focus on replying to messages. You see a few from your mum and send her a quick reply to let her know that you’re doing well.

Seeing her name appear, you feel uneasy; like she knows of the secret you harbour. You feel guilty. And disgusted.

A sudden commotion outside throws you back into reality; back into the commune.

You hear raised voices, some sounding familiar, and you swiftly place your phone in your pocket before heading out.

You see Jon, eyes wide and face pale, on his knees in front of Aemond, mimicking how Jayne and Alys had looked a few days ago.

Aemond’s face is hard to read.

He looks stoic, yet his eye is furious; dark gaze glaring down at Jon.

Unlike Jayne, Jon doesn’t say anything. He raises his hands in surrender and locks eyes with Aemond; wordlessly pleading.

But for what?

By now, many of the residents have gathered around the two young men. Some look scared, others intrigued.

“Do you believe the Father to be just?”, Aemond’s soft voice asks, contrasting his utterly frightening appearance. Jon nods eagerly, eyes wide in panic.

“Then you’ll accept a punishment befitting the sin you’ve committed?”

Jon stiffens slightly, but eventually lowers his head in a slow nod. His eyes cast down to the ground; head hanging in surrender.

Aemond hums and pulls out a knife from the inside of the jacket he’s wearing over his usual white shirt and dark slacks.

It’s one you recognise. It had been gifted to Aemond on his 12th birthday by your grandfather, who’d declared that he was now a young man; a young Targaryen man, and therefore needed his own reminder of his Valyrian heritage.

Aemond flips the dagger in his hand as he regards the man before him, holding his hand out in an invitation to Jon. He wordlessly places his hand in Aemond’s, and you can now clearly see that he is shaking.

Aemond turns his hand so that he’s holding the back of it, Jon’s palm turned upwards,

“Mistakes can be forgiven, but justice must prevail”, Aemond speaks. His voice is louder than before to address the crowd gathering around him and Jon. It reminds you of a lecture.

Perhaps this is how he'd conduct classes at university?

The residents around you murmur in agreement. Aemond raises the dagger in his hand, eye cast down to make contact with Jon’s. He’s trembling out of fright and Aemond almost looks pleased at the display in front of him,

“We all need reminders of our wrongdoings, to prevent us from repeating them. Whenever you lose sight of the light, Jon, this will remind you to seek out the guidance of the Seven”, Aemond’s calm voice rings out as he suddenly presses the dagger into Jon’s palm.

He grunts in pain as the blade breaks his skin and blood flows freely from his hand. Aemond’s knuckles are white from the force in which he’s holding onto Jon’s hand, refusing to let the younger man go, staring into his eyes with a look so intimidating it demands submission.

You can’t take in the scene in front of you; can’t comprehend what’s happening.

As reality slowly comes back to you, you try to speak up, try to tell Aemond to stop, but your body doesn’t obey you; frozen in shock.

The other residents watch quietly, not making a sound as Aemond and Jon stay still, blade still penetrating Jon’s palm as his mouth winces in pain.

Your uncle finally pulls away from Jon, gesturing for Alys to move forward. She quickly pulls out some gauze from one of the pockets of her apron and kneels down next to Jon, gently wrapping it around his palm; blood pulsing out furiously.

Aemond’s stoic facade seems to falter slightly as his breathing turn laboured; jaw shut tight. He appears agitated, giving Jon and Alys one final look before stalking away towards the nearby path leading to the forest where he’d taken you for a walk a few days prior.

Your body finally obeys you as you call out his name in an urgent voice,

"Aemond!"

What the fuck had you just witness?

Aemond doesn’t turn around. He walk away in quick, angry steps, silhouette growing smaller and smaller. You throw a quick glance at Jon, whose face is even whiter than before, gauze around his palm already dark red with blood seeping through it.

You cannot bear to take in the gory sight, a thousand questions going through your head. You need answers, so you make your way towards where Aemond had disappeared.

The path into the forest grows blurrier as a thick fog settles over the commune. Still, you make your way towards where Aemond had disappeared, determined to confront him about what you’d just witnessed.

You spot a form in the white mist, sitting on a stump with his head in his hands. You approach quickly, thoughts still spinning in your head.

What was that all about?

Why did you cut Jon?

Why did he agree?

If he did agree, that is.

The fear that was etched on Jon’s face as he knelt before Aemond made you shiver. He’d seemed so scared of him; scared of what he might do to him.

Still, no one had interfered as your uncle cut the hand of one of the members of their community.

Is this the norm?

Aemond looks up as he hears your footsteps approach, face as unreadable as always.

“What the fuck was that, Aemond?!”

Your voice is shrill and accusing. Your eyes seek out his as you stop before him; expression furious and chest heaving.

“You need to call a medic or something, Jon’s bleeding heavily!”

Your cheeks feel hot as fury rolls through your body, setting it alight.

It’s amplified by the seemingly unrepentant state of the man before you.

“Don’t question how we do things here”, he warns, eye just as furious as it had been before,

“Jon knew the consequences of stepping out of line. We all do”.

“What could he have done to make you mutilate his hand?!”, you counter. You still can’t fully comprehend what had happened mere moments ago.

Had you just witnessed bodily mutilation in the name of religion?

Aemond clicks his tongue, displeased with your accusations. He tries to school his face into a calmer demeanour as he looks you over,

“Sit down and I’ll explain”, he offers, gesturing for you to take a seat on the damp grass in front of him.

Despite your initial desire to defy him, purely out of spite, your curiosity wins as you take a seat in front of the stump where he sits.

“Everyone living here has consented to our communal agreement”, he begins. You can’t help the scoff that slips out. He continues,

“One of the reasons why people feel so depressed and out of place is due to the secularisation of the modern world. They’ve lost their connection to the Seven; lost sight of the light. A belief in the divine brings us closer together. Closer to the seven faces of the God”

“You all need help if you believe that physical violence will bring you closer to the gods”

It's hard to hide the disgust in your voice. Aemond’s jaw shuts tightly and the calmness on his face looks forced,

“Help me then”, he bites back, irritation penetrating his serene facade. “Pray with me”.

He grabs both your hands suddenly and traps them in his, lowering his head as he recites a prayer you haven’t heard before.

You try to pull your hands away but his grip is iron-like as he continues to mumble the prayer under his breath.

After a while, he grows quiet, yet keeps the grip around your hands. You look up at him. He's already awaiting your gaze.

Aemond looks like he’s contemplating something; different from his usual, determined state.

“Maybe you should help me like I help you; easing the pressure from within”

His hands pull yours towards the zipper of his slacks. Your body freezes in shock for a brief moment, then quickly pull away from him in reflex.

His grip on your hands is tight. He'd anticipated you'd fight back.

He brings your hands towards his crotch, now in such a tight grasp that your fingers ache. There's a hardness there, and your mouth goes dry, a rush of anxiety go through your body,

"Aemond, no, not aga-", you begin but he cuts you off.

“Would you prefer it if I told Helaena what you let me do to you in my office?"

His voice is foreign; cold and uncaring.

This is not the Aemond you know. The one who let you cry out in his embrace.

This is the Aemond they know.

"Or should I tell my other sister?”

You feel cold all over, shivering at his words.

A threat.

He lets one of his hands leave yours and undoes his zipper. He pulls out his length; already hard and furiously red.

You’re once again consumed by feelings of unreality.

This can’t actually be happening, right?

Aemond grips one of your hands, grasping it painfully hard as he pulls it towards his cock.

He presses into the sides and bends your fingers so they circle around him; much larger hand enveloping yours as he forces you to cool his desire.

He sets a fast pace; letting you know exactly how he likes it. His other hand moves towards your mouth, stunning you yet again as he pushes two fingers into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to pull your head away, he brings his spit-covered fingers down to your hand - the one he's using to pleasure himself with - and smears your saliva over the palm before guiding it back to his length again.

As your slick hand makes contact with his burning flesh once more, he grunts and closes his eyes; brows knit together in bliss. He lets you continue the motion by yourself, hands falling to the sides of his lap.

In the middle of this surreal experience, you can’t help but look up at him, admiring his beauty.

Such an intimidating man, instilling fear in so many around him, currently at your mercy.

You almost feel a headrush at the thought; having Aemond in the palm of your hand. Literally.

The continuous friction of your hand against his flesh removes some of the stickiness, and you hear him let out something similar to a whine as your hand grows drier.

His previously intimidating features suddenly look pleading as he gazes down at you, asking you to just comply.

Just give him this.

Without much thought of the consequences, instead of licking your palm, you move your head toward his length, darting your tongue out and licking a stripe over his tip. He lets out a surprise moan, and the unexpected feeling of pride rushing through your body makes your stomach turn.

You are not enjoying this!

Still, the praise travels down and settles in your core, causing a dull throb to pound between your thighs.

Then why does it feel so good to be praised by him?

You continue to pleasure him with your hand, though Aemond’s eye has traveled down to observe your mouth. His gaze occasionally flickers down to your clothed chest, peeking at the sliver of cleavage visible from above. One of his hands grasp your chin,

“Do that again”, he commands, and the disgust you'd felt towards yourself swirls in your belly again.

You shake your head, “No”

He lets out a grunt, hand still on your jaw as he slowly and firmly brings your head closer to his manhood.

Like before, you try to push away from him, to gain some sense of control, but he is far stronger than you,

“You do as I say”, he counters, and in one swift motion, he pulls your head towards his cock with such force that you nearly knock your forehead against his stomach.

As you part your lips to protest, he pushes himself inside of your hot, wet mouth, sighing in relief.

You feel panic come over you as you try to pull away, but he quickly places both hands on your head; keeping you in place.

“Breath through your nose. Be the good girl I know you are”

He grunts and begins to buck into your mouth.

You place your hands on his thighs in another feeble attempt at escaping his assault on your mouth, but to no avail. He drags your face over his length, palms moving to grab each side of your head as his movements grow quicker. You gag slightly.

“You feel so fucking good”, he breaths out, voice drunk on lust,

“You look so fucking good with my cock in your mouth, you know that?”

It feels like he's mocking you. It sounds like he adores you.

His thumb gently brushes away some of the strands that has fallen over your face.

The want in between your legs throb. The disgust in your stomach rumbles. You know that his words of praise shouldn’t make your underwear sticky.

But they do.

Your eyes water as he continues to fuck your mouth, not giving you any rest. You try to whine against him to make him stop; to at least let you come up for air, but he takes your sounds as moans and groans, moving in your mouth faster and harsher.

Finally sensing your need for a break, he manoeuvres your head off of his cock. You pant heavily as you gulp for air; lungs hurting from the sudden, sharp inhale.

A string of saliva connects your lips to his length, and his eye seems to be even more lust-filled as he moves his hand to caress your flushed cheek.

Even in this selfish, pleasure-driven madness, he regard you with fondness.

“Aemond, please, we can’t do this”, you plea.

His gaze flickers from your spit-soaked, swollen lips to your cleavage, and then back.

He doesn’t grant you a reply as he stands up abruptly, taking advantage of your startled state and shoves his length back into your mouth.

Your hands instinctively come up to his legs to have something to hold onto as he fucks your face with even more vigour than before, swearing under his breath.

You feel disgusted at the vicious arousal pooling in your stomach, seeping out of your core.

How could something so degrading feel so sensual?

How could you feel aroused by your uncle using you like this?

Aemond moves his hands to the back of your head, pushing you so that your nose makes contact with the hairs at the bottom of his stomach. He pushes his hips against you harshly and lets out a prolonged grunt.

You gag and stifle a cough, feeling his hot liquid fill your throat, then your mouth.

He slowly pulls away, hands still gripping your head as his eyes return to their wholly intimidating appearance,

“Swallow”, he demands, placing a large palm over your mouth, blocking your nose as well.

You know that you have no choice but to oblige him and force the sticky, salty fluid down your throat with a wince.

Aemond gives your kneeling form one last once-over before letting out a hum, swiftly putting his cock back into his trousers.

Without another word, he leaves, and you're left on your knees by the stump, fog now so thick that you can hardly see the path leading back to the residence.

You wipe away the spit trailing from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand before standing on shaky legs.

Could you pretend like this never happen either?

As if in a trance, you make your way back to the commune; head filled with thoughts, yet too exhausted to comprehend anything.

You move to the basin placed in the corner of your room, reaching for your toothbrush without looking up at your reflection in the mirror.

You brush your teeth three times, reapplying tooth paste as the lather in your mouth disappears.

You want to get the taste of him out of your mouth.

It doesn’t go away.

Realising that you’ve been carrying your phone in your pocket this whole time, you tap the screen. A few new message from your mother and brother.

You hadn't even noticed.

Without checking, you turn your phone off, tossing it in your bag as you make your way to the bed.

You feel exhausted. Disgusted. Aroused.

This can’t be real.

Forgiving

The sheets of the bed are soft against your skin.

The rays of the morning sun shine through your window, and in the glow of the day’s early hours, you feel rested; comforted by the cosiness of your bed.

As you turn to the side, snuggling into the duvet, you wonder why this comforting place ever caused you to feel unease.

And then you're reminded of last night.

The memory makes a shiver go down your spine and your body trembles; trying to shake the chill away. Still, the feeling crawling under your skin doesn’t quite disappear.

Usually, you wouldn’t be able to sleep in the anxious state you’d been in last night.

Yet, for some reason, as soon as your head touched the cool pillow, you’d fallen into uninterrupted slumber.

Though your mind was spinning from all the conflicting thoughts you were having, your body was surprisingly relaxed; well-rested and freed from tension.

You’re hungry too, you notice. The rumble in your stomach vibrates, prompted by the clatter of the residents preparing for breakfast outside.

Without much thought, you get up, get ready and head outside. The warm rays of the sun greet you and you have to squint in order to see who’s already seated at the long table.

To your surprise, you’re met by the same scene as the last couple of days.

Aemond is standing by the edge of the wooden table, speaking with Alys. Jon is carrying bread in a large basket, carefully placing a few buns in each empty bowl placed on the table. Helaena is fussing over the wildflowers adorning the table, laughing as Jayne tells her something you can’t make out.

The scenery is still perfect, despite what had occurred the day before between Aemond and Jon.

Between Aemond and you.

You walk towards the table and take your usual spot next to Helaena, offering her a strained smile as she greets you. You’d thought keeping up appearance would prove to be a true challenge, but right now you feel oddly at peace; calm even. And hungry.

As soon as Aemond finishes thanking the Seven in his morning prayer, you begin to pile food on your plate.

Everything looks mouthwatering, the freshly baked bread still warm in your hand as you tear it apart and smother it in butter. You usually weren’t the type to have an appetite when you feel anxious or stressed, but today your uneasy state only works to amplify your hunger.

As you eat, the stress that had been causing nervous waves to ebb through your body stills, and you feel more at ease. Your mind is calmer, less crowded with thoughts.

Numb.

As you finish your meal, you look up from your plate to watch the scenery surrounding you, appreciating the lush greenery of the commune that had been lost on you before.

The rays of the sun shine through the gaps between the leaves of the bright green beech trees encircling you, casting a gorgeous glow over the residence.

Gods, it's beautiful here.

You look over at Helaena, whose hair seems to shimmer in the sun. Her smile only highlights her beauty; lilac eyes kind with a glint of something playful.

“Do you want to help me with my insect farm today? I’m going to go check on the crickets now after breakfast”, she asks, tone as pleasant and upbeat as it always is here.

“Sure”, you reply, standing up to follow her.

She walks behind one of the small cottages, and an array of insect farms come into view.

They resemble little houses made of wood, and even standing a good few metres away, you can see insects crawling all over the wood.

Helaena moves between them swiftly, peeking inside to see how her favourite creatures are faring. You’d never understand her obsession with such creepy beings, but watching her now, you feel warmth in your chest. She looks so happy; so at peace.

This really is the perfect place for her.

She beckons you over to one of the miniature houses and you approach her wearily, unable to hide the aversion you felt for the bugs.

Helaena giggles as she sits down on the ground to gain better access to the farm, nodding her head in a silent instruction for you to do the same. You join her, though you sit down slightly behind where she is, hoping she can provide you some distance from the insects littering each piece of wood of the farm.

“Are you sure you have to leave by the end of the week? I’d love for you to stay here longer”, she sighs, eyes fixed on the insects in front of her. She’s brought a small pouch with her which she opens, fingers digging inside for some seeds to feed her six-legged friends.

“I have to get back to work”, you answer, already dreading the inevitable.

The constant stress, the sleepless nights, Gwayne's endless nagging.

Would you be able to sleep as well as you did out here back home?

Would sleep feel as serene?

Despite all the uneasy situations you’d found yourself in, an unfamiliar sense of calm settles on your chest, pushing down your anxiety.

Maybe things would be easier if you stayed out here? Just for a while longer?

You're pulled out of your thoughts as Helaena speaks up again, eyes still on the farm, hand now buried deep within its walls, placing seeds inside for the insects to fight over.

“I think you’d be better off here. I saw you in a dream, you know. You were smiling, wearing a beautiful crown of flowers, holding hands with Aemond”

You feel yourself stiffen.

“He told me you’d come when he invited me to live with him here”, she continues, eyes finally straying away from the crickets; meeting yours.

You want to tell her about what happened, but the words seem stuck in your throat.

Would she believe you?

Would she be disgusted with you?

“Hel, I-”, you begin, choking as tears well up in your eyes. You try to clear your throat so that the lump of sadness suffocating you goes away,

“I-, I don’t think Aemond likes me”, is all you are able to get out as unexpected tears spill out from the corners of your eyes.

You wish you could tell her more, but your body doesn’t obey you; mind feeling foggy and throat closing up.

You can't sort your thoughts, or feelings, out.

“Oh, don’t cry, love”, she says as she wipes away a fat tear sliding down your cheek,

“There's no reason to feel bad. Aemond likes you. He would never do anything to harm you. He cares for you so much”

Though her voice sounds genuine, her gaze seems to drift away as she talks about her brother.

“He’s cared for you ever since we were small, you know. Do you remember that summer when we were all together on Driftmark? Before Aemond lost his eye?”

You swallow thickly at the memory.

“You remember when you two asked me to wed you out on the beach because you wanted to stay together forever?”, she asks, voice gentle and a knowing smile playing on her lips.

The memory causes you to spill more tears. Everything was so much easier back then.

“Don’t you miss how close you two used to be?”, she asks, compassionate and caring.

Yes, you do.

“Yeah”, you let out, voice thick from sadness. “But everything changed after Aemond lost his eye. He-, he didn’t want to spend time with me anymore”

You sound so small; your own words make you feel like a child again, abandoned by your best friend.

“Well, we’re here now, together. So that we can all reconnect. We’ve missed you”

Helaena moves closer to you, throwing her arms around you and hugs you tightly.

You slump against her, burying your face in the crook of her neck. Despite all the weird interactions with Aemond during your visit, Helaena had been a constant; brightening your days and making you feel seen.

She was always so happy to see you.

She was always so genuine.

You pull away once your sobbing ceases, giving Helaena one last squeeze before mumbling a quiet “thank you”.

She smiles, wipes her thumbs over your wet cheeks and locks eyes with you,

“You’ll feel better once you’ve settled in properly”, she says with a smile.

You don’t really understand what she means but nod anyway.

Agreeing feels good.

Agreeing feels comforting.

As you make your way back to your cottage, you spot Jon by one of the flower beds, watering the abundant plants fighting for space in their wooden confinement.

He doesn’t look much different from a few days ago, but when he spots you approaching, his slouching shoulders go rigid.

“Hi”, you say, trying to keep your voice light as you draw near him.

“Hey”, he replies, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Your eyes instantly move to inspect his hand.

The gauze has been changed recently, clinically white and neatly wrapped around his palm,

“How’s your hand?”, you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“Fine”, is all he replies as he walks towards the next flower bed, away from you.

He tilts the watering can, letting the water rains down on the flourishing plants.

“What Aemond did to you-, I-, it’s completely unacceptable”, you say as you trail after him,

“You could press charges you know”

Not that you actually think Jon would, for some unexplainable reason he had seemingly agreed to getting his hand slashed. But you wanted him to understand that this kind of behaviour was inexcusable, even if he'd consented.

Jon’s eyes darken as he turns his head from watching the droplets fall on the flowers to observe you.

“Aemond knows what’s best. No point in me going against him”, he says in resignation, eyes shifting again, looking out at the endless fields surrounding the commune.

“Aemond acted like a fucking psycho yesterday, you don’t have to excuse his behaviour”, you try to assure Jon, shifting your body to move a little closer to where he’s standing.

His eyes go wide in panic, quickly looking around to make sure no one is nearby.

“Do not say things like that”, he warns, voice barely above a whisper.

“Aemond and Alys hear everything. They have eyes and ears everywhere, especially Alys. She sees much and more”

His eyes have grown impossibly large, resembling those of an animal pestered by a predator,

“They say the Father is all-seeing; knowledgeable on all topics. Almighty. There are people here who-”, he pauses as his eyes again dart around in a stressed frenzy, making sure no one is listening in on your conversation,

“- who believe Aemond is the human embodiment of the Father”

Jon’s confession catches you off guard and you let out a snort at his utterance. His panicked eyes narrow in anger at you.

“You haven’t been here long enough to have seen what I have”, he tells you with a sneer,

“You do not understand the power that he holds”.

Though you'd initially thought Jon was someone you could become friendly with, you now find yourself backing away from him and his evident madness.

Aemond might be smart, but he is no deity.

You’re slouching in the rocking chair in the corner of your room, trying to read the book Helaena had lent you.

This is the third time you feel like giving up; mind too fuzzy to fully take in anything you're reading.

Why is it so hard to concentrate?

To distract yourself?

You’d planned on giving your mum a call when you retreated to your cottage, but couldn’t even bear to pick up your phone.

She had a way of knowing what you were thinking, without you even telling her. She knows you so well.

Too well.

She would sense that something's off.

That there's something you're not telling her.

What if she figures out what you and Aemond had done?

You’re startled by a sudden knock on your door.

Quickly standing, you rush to the door, nerves on high alert.

Aemond’s ducks his tall frame as you pull the door open, face level with yours. You feel that familiar shiver run down your spine, making your body shudder slightly.

He looks as impeccable as always; hair half up so that the silver strands stay out of his face, button-down shirt and slacks perfectly form-fitted and ironed to eliminate any trace of a wrinkle; any indication of a flaw. His eyepatch is securely placed over his damaged eye, long scar poking through the sides.

“Can we talk?”, he asks, voice low and gentle.

You’re not sure what to say, and move to the side to allow him inside. For some reason denying him feels out of the question.

You go back to the wooden rocking chair, sitting down and pulling one leg up to wrap your arms around yourself, a meek attempt at shield yourself from whatever Aemond has in mind.

He sits down on the bed, back stiff and gaze darting around the room before settling on you.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday”, he starts, face stoic.

“Thank me?”, you reply by reflex, not entirely sure of what he’s referring to.

He can’t be referring to what happened in the forest?

“Yes. I really appreciate you helping me out”, he continues matter-of-factly. You’re stunned, mouth half-open in disbelief.

“And I wanted to apologise for leaving you after. That won’t happen again”

His eye never leave yours. He sounds so sincere it is hard not to take his gratitude and apology to heart.

Still, the memory of what you’d done causes bile to rise in the back of your throat.

Forgiving him and moving on would be so simple.

“It’s okay, Aemond, we don’t have to talk about it anymore”, you mumble, eyes looking down to pick at the sleeve of the linen blouse you’re wearing.

You’d rather just forget.

Move on.

Never speak or think about it again.

It never happened.

“Alright”

He’s silent for a moment before he speaks up again,

“I also wanted to thank you for coming out here to visit us. It’s been so nice to reconnect over these past few days”

There he is again.

The boy who’d been your best friend all those years ago.

Fierce and attentive at once; contradicting in every way. His timid smile is still the same, just as inviting to mischief as it had been when you were little.

You still can’t quite find the words to engage in conversation with him. Half of you wants to run away from his unpredictability, yet the other half wants to stay and bask in it.

“I’ve missed you”, he continues. You know he is genuine when you look up to meet his gaze.

You’ve missed him too.

“I’ve missed you too”, you confess quietly. You can’t seem to look away from his eye. It's almost hypnotising.

“Wouldn’t you like to stay here for a while longer? I can talk to Gwayne”, he offers.

“Oh that’s not necessary, I have to go back. I already know I have a full mailbox waiting for me”, you quip, trying to sound witty. Aemond’s face remains impassive.

“I always wondered why you decided to work with my uncle. Such a waste of potential”, he muses as he regards you,

“I think you could achieve much more if you chose another path in life”

His expression is serious, still his voice is gentle.

Like he’s telling you, not advising you.

Before you have a chance to reply he speaks up again,

“I’d like you to join a sermon we’re having tonight. You could benefit from some guidance”

You can’t come up with a reason to decline his invitation fast enough, and Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your silence.

“Six o’clock in the Sept”

He stands and reaches his hand towards you, squeezing it in goodbye.

He leaves your cottage and you watch him retreat to the Sept through your window.

The tall building truly holds an imposing aura; the seven pointed star sinister in its daunting simplicity.

Unsettling.

You enter the Sept right before six.

To your surprise, all residents of the commune are already seated, sitting in rows leading up to the unadorned wooden altar; carvings of the Seven decorating all sides of it.

The only one standing is Aemond, right next to the altar.

Next to him is a chair, and as you walk towards where the residents are seated, Aemond clears his throat and gestures for you to take a seat on the chair next to him, facing everyone.

“Please, join me”, he says and beckons you over.

Everyone present is watching you expectantly, leaving you no choice but to join Aemond and take a seat next to where he’s standing.

“Our guest of honour, everyone”

His voice is soft, yet you notice a hint of amusement hiding behind his stoic façade.

He says a short prayer, welcoming everyone to the sermon and expressing gratitude to all faces of the Seven.

“Today, I’d like to talk about forgiveness”, Aemond explains, and you watch as all residents observe him diligently, eyes rarely blinking.

He seems to hold such power within these seven walls.

Such authority.

“Granting someone forgiveness takes strength, given to us by the Warrior”

The residents are silent, but you see a few of them nodding along to Aemond’s words.

Helaena and Alys sit closest to where you and Aemond are, watching you attentively.

“All actions have consequences, and we must be reminded of this to prevent us from repeatedly committing wrongdoings. When I was 10, I was taught the consequences of my actions as my nephew brought a knife to my face, taking my eye”

His tone grows colder as he speaks, and you feel that all too familiar shiver run down your spine.

Only this time, you cannot shudder to make it go away. It stays at the base of your back; taking hold of you and keeping you in a state of acute uneasiness.

“Though I was consumed by hatred after being robbed of my sight, the Seven provided me with guidance, showing me the light in the darkest of times”

Aemond moves to stand in front of you, one hand coming up to pull the eyepatch that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face away.

You hadn’t seen him without it since the accident, and you have to stifle a gasp as you take in the entirety of his face.

The scar that your brother had branded him with is still red, still angry as you follow it with your eyes; starting at his forehead and ending on his cheek.

The socket where his eye had previously been is surrounded by scarred tissue; healed but still furious.

In the empty socket lays a sparkling sapphire, almost appearing alive as the light from the candles in the Sept reflects upon its surface.

The contrast of the beautiful gem nuzzled in the red, vexed scar reminds you of Aemond himself; full of rage and beauty.

“I’ll tell you the story behind this scar”

He moves to stand behind you as his hands rest on the backrest of the wooden chair,

“I was enjoying a day at the beach with my dearest childhood companion-”

His voice is borderline mocking. In your peripheral vision you see his knuckles go white from to the tight grip he has on the backrest of your chair,

“- though she adored me as well, she never defended me against the nasty remarks her brothers would throw my way”

His icy voice heats with anger,

“Having had enough of their torment, I defended myself, much like the Warrior would have. Like the Father, I demanded justice for their unbecoming behaviour. Yet, when I gained the strength to defend myself against my tormentors, the one who was supposed to be by my side abandoned me”

Although you can’t see him standing behind you, you can feel the infuriated energy radiating from his body. You desperately seek the resident's eyes for some sympathy, yet find none.

“That-, That’s not what happened Aemond”, you try to protest, but your voice comes out too weak to truly make an impact.

“Is it not? Then enlighten me. Did you not leave me to defend myself?”

One of the hands he has placed on the back of the chair moves to rest on your shoulder, squeezing it harshly.

“I didn’t-, you were fighting and I didn’t-, I was going to get an adult!”

You sound as desperate as you feel. The gazes of the residents feels burning as they regard you with disapproval.

You still remember how an innocent fight between children had escalated as soon as Aemond picked up a rock, refusing to take in your pleas to just let it go. Not knowing what to do, you’d sprinted towards the family’s summer house to get your mum or Alicent; anyone who could help you de-escalate the madness on the beach.

When you came back, Aemond was on the ground, screaming as he clutched his blood-covered face.

The memory makes you grow cold all over. That had been the worst day of your childhood; amplified by the fact that Aemond had refused to speak to you afterwards. Though your families had managed to mend the broken bond somewhat, Aemond had never looked at you the same.

“The Seven tell us that sins can be forgiven, and though I have forgiven you for this”, he gestures towards his eye, “you were never made to apologise for your transgression. I’d like to offer you forgiveness”

“Apologise to me”

He pushes at your shoulder, gesturing for you to stand in front of the onlooking residents. You heed his instruction, turning so that you're facing him.

"Kneel"

You get down on your knees, looking up at Aemond’s imposing stature. He is frightening, the clearly satisfied state of his face haunting you.

“I’m sorry”, you say meekly; low and defeated.

“Come on, you can do better than that”, he encourages.

His voice is loud and with a hint of poorly concealed amusement.

“I’m sorry”, you repeat, this time louder.

“You’re not going to address me when you’re on your knees, asking for my forgiveness?”, he asks, tilting his head.

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your face grow hot from the feelings rumbling in your chest; rage, sadness, betrayal.

Why is he so intent on humiliating you?

“I’m sorry, Aemond”, you bite out.

He approaches you, hand stretched out to touch your head, gently stroking your hair. He brings his hand down to cup your chin, tilting your head so that you look up at him; meeting his purple and blue gaze.

“I forgive you”, he says, and despite sincerity being evident in his voice, you cannot help but feel like this is all just a farce.

The onlooking residents stay silent, but you feel their eyes observe you like flames against your skin.

The only sound coming from the audience is from Helaena, who lets out a quiet “lovely” as her smiles at you and Aemond. You eye her in disbelief.

Does she not see how fucked up this is?

As soon as the sermon finishes you dart out the door, speedily walking the short distance to the cottage you’re staying at.

You cannot bear to stay in this madness for even a second longer.

You slam the door open, grab your belongings and stuff them down your bag with force.

The sun is setting and you know that there are no streetlights out here, only open fields and forest. You'll need to find your way back to the station alone, Helaena’s clearly as mad as the rest of them.

You peek out through the door. No one seems to be nearby and you know this is your chance to sneak away without being forced to face Aemond, Alys or Helaena.

The sun is hanging low on the horizon as you quickly move towards where you and Helaena had emerged a few days prior.

You walk briskly, the commune growing smaller as you move further away.

The forest that had mesmerised you with its beauty slowly turns terrifyingly imposing as darkness chases the comforts of daylight away.

Though you're sure you’ve been following the way you and Helena came, you soon find yourself at a crossroads in the middle of two paths, not knowing which will lead you back to the small village where the train station was.

As you briefly stop to contemplate your options, a dark figure appear on your side.

Jayne’s eyes are kind as she offers you a curt smile, reaching out to take your hand.

“Come with me”, is all she says before moving in quick steps, pulling you along the path to the right. You follow without protests; you wouldn’t know the way without guidance anyway.

You spot what looks like a street light ahead and you feel your body relax at the thought of being close to the train station, soon on the way back home.

Finally you’ll be able to leave this week behind.

As you come closer however, you start to recognise the small, wooden houses. In the middle stands a large, looming building with lights illuminating the seven pointed star in the middle.

You try to jerk your hand away from Jayne, but her hold on you is iron-like as she pulls you towards the Sept.

“Don’t worry”, she tries to reassure you.

“Soon you’ll realise that this is where you’re meant to be”

Prospering

Jayne forcefully drags you into Aemond's office, quickly exiting to lock the door from the outside. You’re still in shock, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself enough to assess the situation.

Everyone here’s deranged.

You’re outnumbered.

You could fight as hard as you like, and you’d still lose.

You start to nervously pace back and forth in front of Aemond’s large wooden desk, attempting to expel some of the nervous energy within you.

They wouldn't hurt you, right?

That’d be mad.

You think back to the true crime documentaries you used to be obsessed with. The best thing to do was play along with the madness and strike when they least expect it.

Make them believe you’re not a threat so they’ll trust you.

You just needed to keep your head cool and play along a little while longer. Then they’d take you back to the train station and you could go back home.

A sharp rap on the door pulls you away from your thoughts.

You hear someone fiddle with the lock before the door opens slightly and Alys slips through the small crack. You can hear voices outside, but they quickly fade away as Alys shuts the door promptly.

She gives you a nod, expression as calculated as it always is. She’s carrying two wine glasses in one hand and holding an opened bottle of wine in the other.

“Oh relax”, she tells you with a smile,

“Have some wine, it’ll calm your nerves”

She places the glasses on the desk, pouring you both a serving each before putting down the bottle and handing you one of the glasses.

“Here’s to a prosperous future”, she says, raising her glass and giving you a nod. You match her gesture, bringing the glass to your lips as you watch her take a sip.

The wine tastes like the ones your mum usually orders when you go out to eat; rich and with some lingering spiciness.

“Dornish red. Aemond’s favourite”, Alys states. Her delicate fingers are wrapped around the stem as she holds the glass elegantly.

She seems to do everything with grace, never faltering. Never appearing clumsy or out of place.

It's hard not to admire her.

“You know he’s only trying to help you, right?”, she asks.

"I-", you’re quiet for a while as you rack your brain for something to say that won’t upset her, “I appreciate that, but I need to get back home and-“

“Just let him help you, okay?”

Though her voice rises slightly at the end, it doesn’t feel like a question.

You know that there is no room for argument. Alys has maintained her calm appearance, yet her eyes are so expressive; the only part of her face that she can’t force into submission.

Their intensity make the hairs at the back of your neck rise, demanding you obey her.

She downs her glass before placing it on the desk, leaving you alone yet again in Aemond’s office.

It’s gotten dark now, the sole window in the room not providing much light anymore.

You continue to sip the wine in your glass as you lean against the desk next to you. The alcohol might provide you with some comfort; sooth your anxiety.

A soft knock on the door announces the presence of your next visitor.

Helaenas’ silver hair brightens up the dark room as she enters. She’s holding a flower crown in one hand, beautifully crafted with wildflowers you recognise from the bouquets always adorning the table outside.

“Hi”, she greets with a smile.

You nod back at her, still not quite sure how to appraise her.

She’s been one of the people you’ve felt closest to your entire life, yet she seems to approve of the mad things happening here.

How can she not see how humiliating Aemond’s actions during the sermon had been?

“I made this for you”, she says and hands you the flower crown.

As your hands touch, her fingers linger on yours, tips dragging over your knuckles with a feather-light touch.

“Thanks”, you reply curtly, not sure of what to say.

You want to ask Helaena for the way back to the train station.

Ask her to come back with you to Oldtown.

But she’s so different here. She overlooks so much, agrees to so much.

Always with a smile.

“Put it on”, she urges, hands moving to the flower crown to help you place it on your head. You want to protest but you’re so tired of it.

Tired of asking questions.

Tired of going against everyone.

“There”, she says with a smile as she regards you, face even brighter than before,

“You look so beautiful”

“Hel..”, you try, tongue coming out to lick your lips as you choose your words carefully.

She’s still your dear aunt; still Helaena.

“I want to go back home, Hel. We could go together, if you like?”

Despite trying to keep your voice even, you sound a little frantic.

“No you can’t leave now”, is all she replies, dismissing you. She doesn’t appear to be upset by your words though, lips still forming a warm smile.

“Hel, listen. What you’re doing here is not okay. Aemond maimed a man! And he humiliated me in front of everyone. Something’s wrong with him”

Your eyes dart all over her face and stature to assess her reaction to your words. You’re astonished by her indifference, almost like she’s not taking your words in.

She places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly as her eyes lock with yours,

“All actions have consequences. We’re all made aware of that here. Aemond only wants what’s best for us. He’s worked so hard to provide us with this. You should be thankful”

She leaves you alone in the room once more, and as she exits, you hear her secure the lock on the door from the outside.

By the time you hear someone unlock the door next, you’ve finished the glass of wine Alys gave you.

The room is now illuminated by nothing but the light of the moon shining through the window, casting a silver glow over the office.

Matching the man entering.

Aemond’s tall silhouette appears, instantly making you straighten up, dread washing over you.

He has been so volatile during your stay here, making you feel unease by the mere sight of him.

You can still hear chatter and what sounds like furniture being shuffled around outside as the door is left ajar by Aemond, who moves towards you.

He stands so close to you that his feet are touching yours.

His face is stern, looking at you down his nose. Fighting the fright within you, you meet his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction of backing down too easily.

Still, you know that you’ll need to play your cards right, go along with the madness here momentarily, so that they’ll eventually let you go home.

“Why did you leave?”, he asks, eyes never leaving yours.

His voice is that unique mixture of being gentle and stern, demanding you obey him and tell him the truth.

“I tried to leave because of what you did to me during the sermon. What you did to Jon!”

You’re unable to hide the fear-laced irritation you feel at his audacity.

How could he expect you to stay? Wasn’t it obvious why you left?

“I might have been selfish for needing that apology, but it was necessary. Now we can move forward together”

He moves one of the hands he’s had clasped behind his back towards you, gently placing his it in yours.

Your gaze flickers down to where he’s holding you. Your hand looks so small and delicate in his large one. His touch is warm.

You scoff at his attempt to reconcile,

“Who said I’ve forgiven you for what you did?”

“You know you owed me an apology after leaving me alone with your vicious brothers that night”, Aemond says and he shuffles even closer to you,

“Do you think that what happened during the sermon can match the pain I felt when your brother took my eye?”

“N- no, but Aemond-"

“No. You’ll never understand the pain I’ve been through. But I’ve chosen to forgive you, and now we can move forward together”

His voice is slightly strained as he lectures you. His purple eye is piercing, and though you’d wanted to match his strength, you can’t help it when your eyes look down in shame.

“However”, he speaks in a lower tone, thumb moving to stroke the back of your hand,

“I am disappointed in your attempt to leave me and Helaena here without even granting us a proper goodbye”

“You’ll prosper here with us, but you’ll have to follow our rules. Dishonesty is not allowed, and your actions show that you attempted to act deceitfully".

His hand drops yours as he grabs your arms on both sides, swiftly turning you around and pushing on you back with a firm hand so that you're bent over his desk.

You’re too startled to fight back, letting out a yelp as you feel him tower over you from behind. He leans down over your body, hand still firmly on your back, pushing down,

“You have probably heard stories of whipping those who refuse to see the light. But I am no monster, so I will spare you from the whip”, he murmurs next to your ear, hand on your back trailing downwards,

“My hand will serve”

Before you’re able to reply, or even fully take in what he’s telling you, you feel his large palm make swift contact with your backside, the gesture causing a loud smack to echo through the quiet room.

You let out a startled cry in pain as you turn your head to face Aemond, confused betrayal reflected in how your mouth fall open and eyebrows rise.

His hand smooths over the material of your skirt where he’s just slapped you, somewhat soothing the painful sting on your skin.

“For being deceitful, I’ll give you five smacks. That’ll teach you to behave”,

The stoic gentleness of his voice borders on sounding amused as he takes in your shocked face.

Can you still play along?

What will happen if you resist?

While you’re trying to calculate your next move, Aemond’s hand land another harsh hit on your ass.

You sqeel from the pain, but quickly try to stifle the sounds coming out of your mouth.

Your painfully aware of the fact that he left the door ajar.

The residents outside might hear what’s happening. You feel tears well up in your eyes from the humiliation; from the stinging pain on your backside.

Aemond shushes you as he once again smooths his hand over your abused flesh in a comforting manner,

“You’re doing so well, my love” he tells you, eyes meeting yours once again.

You don’t understand why his words stifle the anxiety you feel, but they do.

“Only three more”, he states as he lands another stinging hit on your ass, even harsher then before.

You can’t hinder the tears that escape down your cheeks anymore.

“Good girl”, Aemond coos as he soothes your pain with his palm. Though the fabric of your skirt separates your skin from his, you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

Hearing him praise you shouldn’t sooth your pain, or make you feel better in the slightest, but it does.

You notice the soft look of satisfaction in his eye and you feel proud.

His hand lands on you quickly and you bite your lip desperately to not cry out. More tears slide down your cheek as you give Aemond a pleading look.

“Just one more, and then you’ve served your punishment”, he reassures you as he caresses your stinging flesh.

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the last smack to land and when it does, you flinch before letting out a sigh of relief because you’d done it, you’d taken the punishment and now Aemond would be pleased with you.

The thought makes a warm sensation spread in your chest and when you open your tear-filled eyes, Aemond is already watching you with an expression that feels nothing less than loving.

While one hand stays on your backside to gently caress you, the other travels to you face, cupping your cheek. His thumb runs over your cheek, wiping away some of the wetness.

“You took your punishment so well. You make me proud”, he tells you, and his soft voice sounds so sincere. You lean into his touch on instinct, his palm providing comforting warmth to your cheek.

Being praised by him makes you feel happier than you’ve been in a long time.

It feels so good to be appreciated; to know you did something well. You can’t help but smile as your eyes lock with his. He smiles back at you.

“Now, I’ve got a surprise for you”, he tells you as he straightens up, grabbing your arm to link it with his. You know that there is more you need to talk about; more that’s unsaid. Yet, your mind feels fuzzy and you’re finding it hard to properly sort your thoughts out.

Aemond snakes his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you lean into his warmth; it’s so comforting.

“Aemond, I-, I still need to know…”, your voice dies as you mentally search for a question.

What was it that made you leave?

Oh! Jon!

“Why did you cut Jons hand?”, you ask, hoping that the softness of your voice will prevent his impending irritation. You don’t think you could handle another punishment.

Aemond is quiet for some time, possibly pondering his response, before he speaks,

“Jon spoke out of turn, questioning my roles as the leader of this community. He now understands that everything I do is for the good of the commune and its residents”, he explains, arm still holding you by the side as his palm rests out on your stomach.

“Here in the commune, we know that scars tell a story; they remind us of our wrongdoings and guide us when we stray from the light of the Seven”

He stops in front of the door, turning slightly to look at you,

“You should be grateful I didn’t scar you, like I’ve done to others. Soon you’ll appreciate all that I've done for you”

He pushes the door to his office open, revealing the large hall where you’d been humiliated during Aemond’s sermon.

The residents of the commune are all facing you, watching you expectantly as you emerge from the office.

They’re all sitting on the exact same seats as before. The Sept is dark, illuminated only by the scarce moonlight shining through the seven-pointed star carved in the upper part of the buildings large walls, and by the candles lit across the room.

You see one of the residents standing by the altar where Aemond had stood during the sermon.

You recognise him as one of Aemond’s former professors in King’s Landing. The man is probably in his early to mid-sixties with grey specks clear in his brown locks. He offers you a smile as you approach with Aemond, his brown eyes warm and inviting,

“Welcome”

Aemond leads you to stand in front of the altar, arm still anchoring you to him.

“Is everything ready?”, your uncle inquires as his grip around you tightens.

“Yes. Let’s begin with the seven vows”, the elderly man says before reciting what sounds like a long prayer.

Having Aemond hold you makes you feel secure, and it takes you a while to really comprehend what is going on.

Why are the two of you standing here, instead of sitting with the other residents?

“Do you accept the seven vows, the seven blessings and the seven promises?”, he asks, warm eyes meeting yours.

“I do”, Aemond replies next to you, squeezing your waist in a silent command for you to do the same.

You turn to face him, brows furrowed in confusion.

What is it you’re agreeing to?

Aemond’s patience seems to run thin as you remain silent.

You notice his jaw twitch as he gives the resident in front of you a pointed look, prompting the man to respond in a quick nod before moving to join the onlookers.

Aemond turns to fully face you, yet he doesn’t move his arm, tugging you towards him so that your soft chest knocks against his.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my wife”, he says before he surges forward, crashing his lips against yours.

You stiffen in his grip, trying to back away from him but unable to move in his hold. You hear applause echo through the hall as Aemond retreats, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

You open your mouth to protest, but your voice is drowned out by the loud chanting of the onlooking residents,

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever”

They abruptly stand, chanting over and over as they move towards the large wooden doors of the entrance, going outside to leave you and Aemond alone in the Sept.

Even after the last person has left and closed the door, you can hear them chanting outside.

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever”

The slight tranquillity you’d previously found comfort in vanishes as you search Aemond’s face for an explanation; an answer as to what is going on.

His hand cups your cheek again, the loving look he’d offered you before you left his office still present,

“Your decision to leave tells me that you are lost. I’ll help you. I’ll help you see the light again”

You’re lost for words.

“I’m doing this for you. I know how much you crave to be loved. I’ll give you that. Just trust me”

His reassurance does little to calm your nerves as you feel dread pool in your gut.

“But Aemond, not like this, we can’t-”, you protest weakly. Despite the uneasiness taking root inside of you, your body betrays you as it still leans into the touch of his hand.

“I know how to fix you, just like I fixed Helaena”, he comforts you. His seeing eye seeks yours, silently inciting you to trust him,

“You were made for me, and I for you. I know you’ve been feeling lost for a long time. My uncle told me how depressed you were in Oldtown”

“The mother blessed women with wombs to heal their inner sadness. Becoming a mother will heal you”,

He pushes your body against the altar,

“We need to consummate our marriage, or it won’t be recognised by the Seven”

You feel dread settle in your bones as you take in his word.

“No, Aemond, please-, this is wrong! What would our mothers say?”, you desperately try to reason, panic making your breath quicker as he places his hands on either side of you on the altar; caging you in.

He lowers his head so closely that your noses touch, eye never straying away from yours,

“They’ll understand”

His lips find yours again. You know kissing him is wrong, yet your body melts into his touch as his soft lips press against yours.

Maybe they would understand?

Aemond’s tongue gently swipes over your lower lip, pushing to gain access. As he deepens the kiss, his hands travel down to your skirt, gathering the fabric in his grip before breaking away from you.

You’re both breathing heavily as you stay frozen, taking in each other's expressions. A thin line of translucent spit connects your lips and you notice Aemond’s eye flicker down to watch your kiss-swollen lips.

The conflicting emotions within you rage like the worst of storms, making your head spin. Aemond’s gentle prodding had successfully made you into putty in his hands, yet the uneasy feeling from before remains, steering you away from his control.

“No, no. We can’t, this has already gone too fa-”, you’re abruptly startled to silence as Aemond swiftly sinks down to his knees, pushing up the fabric of your skirt to expose your underwear.

You try to push your legs together but one of his hands quickly dart out to pull down the small piece of fabric separating your skin from his.

You place your hands on both sides of his head in an attempt to push him away, but his face moves towards your exposed centre with determination.

He grabs ahold of the outside of your thighs as he pushes your body towards his face, tongue immediately finding your bundle of nerves, swiping over it in rhythmic circles. Your grip on his head tightens as you push with all your strength for him to back away, but to no avail. He buries his face further into the apex of your thighs as he grips your tights painfully, fingertips leaving colourful marks of ownership.

You whine from the pain; from the pleasure building inside of you as Aemond forces your body into submission. He manhandles your right leg so that it rests on his shoulder, giving him further access to assault you with his mouth.

He sucks on your clit as he brings two fingers up to slide through your folds; the ease of which they glide lets him know the effect his touch has on you.

His fingers find your entrance, pushing inside to instantaneously curl forward, finding that spot inside you that always brings you waves of pleasure. You let out a startled moan as your hands go limp around Aemond’s head, simply resting there.

You close your eyes, violent pleasure making it hard for you to think clearly, just like how you’d felt in his office a few days ago.

Why does he have this effect on you? Why is he so good at this?

Why does it feel so good?

Another pathetic moan leaves your lips as he picks up the speed of his actions, purple and sapphire gaze watching you intently. You close your eyes once again, internally surrendering to his touch.

You want it. You need it.

You feel something ignite within you just as your peak crashes over you. The intensity makes your walls clench around Aemond’s fingers as you gasp in pleasure. Your legs shake from the force and you grab onto his hair for some stability.

He withdraws from you, slightly out of breath, and stands, large frame looming over you.

“No one else makes you feel as good as I do, no one else sees you like I do. We have found each other through the guidance of the seven, can’t you see that? We were meant to be”, he says and grabs your waist to hoists your slack body up on the altar.

He pushes your thighs apart, reaching down to undo his slacks and pulls them down just enough to free his length. It is just as intimidating as it had been yesterday; thick, veiny and ragingly red.

“You want this, I know you do”, he says before pushing inside you, causing you to whine at the stretch. You feel so full, and the impact of your orgasm makes your head feel fuzzy; like you’re floating away. Your walls contract around Aemond and he moans as he lowers his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

“You feel just as perfect as I knew you would”, he whispers in your ear. He draws his hips back, pushing them into yours with such force that your body jolts on the altar. You try to hold on to him with every harsh thrust, but your limbs feel too weak. It all feels so overwhelming, so good, that you can’t bite your lip hard enough to hinder the moans that bounce around the seven walls of the Sept.

One of Aemonds hands come down to draw circles on your clit once more. He pulls back slightly to watch you; to take in your pleasure-drunk expression.

“Let them hear you”, He presses down on your bundle of nerves harsher, still dragging his cock in strong, calculated movements along your walls.

The precision of his touch pushes you towards another peak, but when you feel it nearing, he withdraws completely, eyes flickering down to briefly admire the coat of your slickness adorning his manhood.

He grabs your hips, pulls you down from the altar and turns you around so that you’re facing away from him. Like in his office mere moments ago, he pushes on your back so that your chest makes contact with the wooden surface. He lets his cock glide through your folds before he leans down to mumble in your ear,

“Tell me what you want”

Robbing you of release has left you confused. Resigned and desperate, you let the throbbing between your thighs guide you,

“You, Aemond. I want you”

He pushes inside you again with a pleased grunt, picking up the pace quickly as he fucks you against the holy pedestal. Your hands grab both sides as it rocks in tandem with Aemond’s thrusts. His hand finds you clit again and this time you peak within seconds, pleasure washing over you as your legs turn into jelly.

You feel your legs give in, causing you to slide down on the floor. Aemond doesn’t let you go as he keeps fucking you, following you down to the floor. Your upper body jolts from the force of his movements, slowly slipping down to make contact with the cold stone floor.

He leans over you, pounding into you with force. One of his hands comes to rest above you on the altar, allowing him to fuck you harder, and you whine on the floor beneath him,

“Fucking take it”, he grunts as he goes harder, the contact of his hip bone against your abused backside sending stings of pain through your body.

His fingers find your clit again and you moan in pain-filled pleasure at the overstimulation, one hand reaching for his to push it away.

Aemond tuts behind you, “One more. Be good and give me one more”

You try to turn your head so that you can face him, but you’re unable to move, trapped under his body as he takes his pleasure from you. All you can do is take it; give in.

You cry out as you cum for the third time. Your walls clench down on Aemond’s length vigorously as they coax his release from him. You hear him sigh in pleasure as he fills you.

After a few moments, he pulls away from you, fingers moving to stuff whatever spend has trickled down your thigh back inside. You hiss at the pain. He whispers a gentle apology in your ear, helping you pull your underwear back up.

He stands and reaches down under the altar, picking up the flower crown that had fallen from your head sometime during the consummation. His fingers grasp it gently, placing it back on your head.

He looks so beautiful standing in front of you, the soft light from the candles and the silvery glimmer from the moonlight illuminating his features. He gives you another quick kiss before leading you out of the Sept to greet the residents still gathered outside.

As the two of you emerge from the building, beaming smiles, loud congratulations and well wishes for a prosperous future greet you and your husband.

Aemond never lets go of you, keeping you close to him as he chats with the residents; explaining his vision for the commune moving forward and the new role you’ll play as a permanent resident.

Somewhere inside, you know that you should feel ashamed over what just occurred; over the fact that the residents probably heard the entire ordeal as they patiently waited for you outside.

But all you can feel is bliss; a pleasant calm spreading from your chest. Heating up your insides.

Your life before now had been a long struggle, where you were forced to suffer. Forced to part from your closest childhood friend, forced to pursue a career to feel adequate, forced to live a mundane life in isolation.

Aemond pulls you away from the crowd, leaning down to whisper in your ear,

“Look up”

You see bright, green streaks of light decorate the dark night sky, accompanied by thousands of stars. It is the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

Aemond tugs you even closer to his side, resting his chin on your head as you silently admire the northern lights together. All you can feel is his warmth, the safety of being in someone’s embrace. Of being in Aemond’s embrace.

It’s warm.

Comforting.

Freeing.

Thank you for reading! 🩵

[earlysunshines]

sunshine girl

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you are not a morning person and danielle is an everything person—after working with her you start to like mornings a little more, or maybe just her.

warnings: grumpy x sunshine kinda?? ; reader is hyein's cousin ; soobin from txt and rest of nwjns mentioned ; pining and slowburn, like.. slooowburn ; sooo much fluff like soooooo much… ; loool anything else i didn't mention? ; barely proofread

a/n: fell in love w dani, caved, wrote... dreamy sigh... dani…

there is no universe or alternate reality with a twisted, psycho version of that you enjoys mornings. 

there is no way that you’d deliberately get out of bed just to hear the birds chirping and get up to open the curtains or whatever it is that morning people do to enjoy the grueling hours of 7 - 11am. 

do people actually do this? get up at 7am willingly without benefitting from it? the only reason you’re up is because you need that paycheck to keep you going. the image of the little envelope with your name on it and what you’ve earned renders you awake, at least awake enough to get yourself in the shower, dressed up, and ready to go for opening – you’ve never opened, and even worse, you’ve never met any of the staff that opened either. they can’t be worse than the closers, can they?

as you look in the mirror of your car, it’s palpable that the morning air hates you. your eyes are a little puffy, slight eyebags are visible, and your blinking is slower. you’ve got to get through this, it’s the only way to fit work into your schedule since your classes are all later in the day. 

when you arrive, there’s already someone in your unassigned but basically assigned parking spot – you frown as you back up into a different place. 

after you shift your car to park and check the time, realizing you only have five minutes left before you need to clock in for a six-hour shift, you close your eyes and let your body go limp against the seat. 

–

danielle’s head perks up when she hears the door opening. she halts her wiping of the coffee maker, then turns to see an unfamiliar face – a grin automatically finds its way to her lips.

“hi! you must be y/n?” it’s eight in the morning, you’re barely functioning, and you’re already hit with an overly enthusiastic, excited ray of sunshine; you can’t take the energy, not at this hour.

“yeah.” you respond bluntly, danielle isn’t really phased with the lack of energy that’s being thrown back. “you are?”

she answers with hands clasped together, “danielle! but my friends call me dani.” 

you’re not calling her dani, you aren’t her friend, and she’s just your coworker. 

you walk behind the counter and put your bag inside the cabinet, then grab your apron and put it on. when you turn to the side, you’re met with a shorter woman, her curious eyes, the beauty marks on her face, and a big smile. she puts her hand out and you shake it hesitantly. 

“it’s nice to meet you y/n! have you ever worked mornings?”

“no,” you mumble, unlinking your hands. “only closing shifts.”

“ahh, must be different? i’ll get you situated. i’m excited to work with you!” she says, then walks past you towards the door to the kitchen. she pauses before explaining, “the employees in the back take care of all the pastries other than the croissants and cookies, so we make them over here. i’m going to grab the premade dough and whatnot, you stay here– oh! and could you wipe down the machine? and then just run water for the espresso machine to get the pucks ready.”

you nod at her and she smiles again. you rub your eyes as she leaves your sight, fighting the urge to take a power nap on the counter.

–

the whole morning you’re in charge of drinks right until it hits two in the afternoon. luckily, you’re more fond of being stuck in your corner where the espresso machine is rather than taking orders and socializing with the customers – you wouldn’t be able to greet them as enthusiastically as danielle does with each and every one of them.

you don’t know how she does it.

there's another guy—soobin—who comes in an hour after you. he's a little older, quieter, but all smiles and talkative when it comes to danielle. even as you make drinks and keep to yourself, you can tell danielle's energy is contagious. hearing her and soobin chat freely as they restock pastries and bread makes you wonder if your mornings can be as bearable. if they can do it, maybe you can too.

soobin leaves an hour later than you and danielle, waving to both of you as you two walk out the bakery. 

you fish for your keys and start to walk towards your car, but then your head turns when you hear your name called out. turning around, you spot danielle waving to you, which urges you to stop in your place.

“hey y/n, i just wanted to say that it was nice working with you! i’m looking forward to more shifts with you, have a great rest of your day alright?”

paused in place, you struggle to form words, but you manage to respond a little bluntly, “thanks, i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“bye the way!” she plays with her fingers, “you’re super pretty.” 

caught by surprise, you pause for a moment, clutching the strap of your bag a little tighter as your ears start to warm.

“thank you.”

danielle grins again, and oddly enough, you really like how warm and smiley she is. she's like a beam of sunlight turned into a person. she waves once more before walking in the opposite direction, leaving you replaying the whole interaction in your head the rest of the way to your car.

a small smile finds its way to your lips as you sit in your seat, strangely enough.

–

minji is scribbling in her sketchbook when her roommate walks in, looking a little more giddy than usual.

“dani, hey.” minji greets her, smiling when she does. “how was work?”

“great!” danielle beams, right before plopping down next to her roommate on the couch. “there’s a new member – well, she’s not new, but she just switched to working mornings. today was her first shift with soobin and i, and she’s really good at making the drinks, better than when yeosang was on drink duty.”

“that’s great to hear dani.” minji responds, watching her roommate relax against the cushion. “new coworker seems nice.”

“yeah but,” danielle frowns a little, “she’s not that talkative. she has a tough shell, i really want to know her! she’s really pretty too, like gorgeous, stunning– wow.”

minji quirks a brow. “gorgeous?”

“yes! like, wow, i was taken aback. she looked tired too, but i’ve been tired and i’ve never looked that effortlessly wonderful. i mean, she was making drinks most of the time so she never faced me much. even then, the side of her face is nice and she’s just great to look at.” 

danielles roommate narrows her eyes at her. “right.”

–

the next morning you’re downing two shots of espresso like it’s vodka. danielle watches the whole thing with concern etched into her brow.

“are you okay y/n?” danielle questions, “espresso is strong, how do you do it?”

you nod at her and mumble, “it’s fine.” before you continue to clean the counter, not turning to face her. she frowns at you; danielle will get through that shell. 

soobin is in half an hour later, grinning at danielle as he puts his apron on and saying “hi” to you as well. you respond with a forced smile before plopping the last batch of cookies in the small oven on the counter. 

as soon as soobin is done taking the first few customers, leaving you to finish their drinks, danielle pulls him by the sleeve away from you.

“dani? what is it–”

“let’s go bag the pastries, come.”

“um, okay?” he walks over towards the shelves with her, putting on some gloves before asking, “why are you being so strange?”

“i want to get closer with y/n.” she says with a pout. 

“is that all?” soobin questions her–and this strange behavior. “i think she’s just timid.”

“you were timid too, but it took two hours into the shift for us to start talking about hedgehogs.”

“well, i like hedgehogs. you have to find out something you two like.”

danielle sighs defeatedly. “she barely responds to me unless it’s work-related!”

“you’ve got to give her time, people are different. she’s probably not a morning person? and maybe she sees this as just her job, maybe she doesn’t want to interact with others.”

danielle watches you from where her and soobin are after hearing you call out the name of the order. you hand it over to the elderly woman, who thanks you warmly and it earns a small, genuine smile from you. danielle finds your smile lovely, especially the small dimples on your cheeks that form. 

“you’re going to help me out, okay? we have to warm up to her.”

soobin sighs before bagging a cream bun. “okay.”

–

it’s painfully slow for a few minutes, so you walk out from behind the counter to fix up the pastries that the various customers have disordered. 

danielle follows and you jump when you turn to see her beaming at you. “hi!”

“danielle,” you tighten your jaw. “hi.”

“it’s slow on wednesday mornings, most people are already at work.”

“i figured.” you reply as you close the packaging for the rice doughnut.

“so, how are you this morning?”

“i’m fine, um, how are you?”

danielle smiles; the conversation is flowing in the tiniest bit, but still, it’s something. “just tired, i had a lot of work to do because one of my professors loves to assign things last minute, i stayed up quite late. are you in college too? i kind of guessed that we’re around the same age.”

“i just started my second year.” you answer.

she jumps a tiny bit to show the excitement over a commonality, you think it’s adorable.

“really? me too! what are you studying?”

“english and creative writing–” you cut yourself off when you catch a mother and her daughter in the corner of your eye, shutting down the conversation immediately when they start to walk towards the register. 

you throw a small smile at them and greet them warmly before tak ingtheir orders. danielle huffs, but she’s shining again once she’s realized that your shell has chipped just barely.

–

you don’t work fridays or the weekend, danielle has already been aware of that after checking the schedule. it would be weird in the eyes of, well, many people, but she checks everyones schedule just in case any mishaps occur, danielle is considerate beyond measure.

she’s attentive and notices many things – she’s like that with everyone, but you? you’re different.

sure, she’s attentive to the way soobin stumbles over the small bump under the door to the kitchen each time he has to grab something from the back, how he jumps each time the phone rings, and how often he bags the pastries backwards. with you, however, she notices a lot, she learns. 

two weeks after you two start working together, danielle has managed to learn three things about you.

one: you laugh whenever soobin slips up – or really any little mishap that happens with him (which occurs often) – but you always try to conceal your amusement. two: as soon as noon hits, you’re much more awake, which is when danielle sparks more conversation with you. and three: you both go to the same university, and you don’t know this, but she figured that out before you even told her after catching you in the dining hall from afar.

it’s not easy to miss something – or someone – that stands out so boldly, especially if it’s your charming visuals.

her job used to be something that she’d get done and enjoy while it lasted, but now that you’re thrown into the mix, a new challenge and person is clouding her mind throughout her days. she’s so tuned in to everything about you, for some strange reason. and one afternoon, the rare moment she loses focus – attention slipping away in the heat of a rush – danielle bumps into you, spilling a small cup of hot coffee all over your hand. 

you gasp loudly, clutching your hand and biting down on your teeth as tears start to form. “fuck–”

“y/n!” danielle almost yelps, earning the attention from the customers in the shop. “oh my gosh–” she places the cup on the counter before grabbing your wrist and running it under cold water. somehow, her holding your wrist seems to burn more. “i’m so so sorry, y/n are you okay? i’m so–”

you shake your head and push her hand away from your wrist, wiping away the small tear in the corner of your eye. “it’s fine, it was an accident. you should go help soobin out, there’s a long line.”

she can’t tell if you’re mad at her, it breaks her heart. the tone of your voice is always so hard to decipher, and as much as she wants to stay there and help you out – probably with another string of apologies – you have a point, she should do her job, but you’re burnt. danielle is much more worried about you rather than making money in the moment.

but still, your look and tone sends danielle back to the register, and before she tends to the customer, she looks back at you, pouting a little.

–

as soon as you reach the door to the drivers side of your car, you feel a tap on your shoulder. 

turning around, you’re met with danielle.

“did you need something?” you ask her, tilting your head.

“no, i just wanted to apologize for burning your hand, i’m so sorry.” 

you shake your head. “it’s alright, it was a mistake.” 

“yes, but still, can i make it up to you with coffee or pastries?”

“danielle,” you catch yourself and danielle by surprise when a small giggle slips out. you clear your throat before continuing, “we work at a bakery, i can always treat myself to both of those without charge.”

“well, i really want to make it up to you.”

“you’re really sweet, but it’s alright.” you catch your coworker off guard with the sudden compliment, there’s a small flush that spreads across her cheeks. “besides, my hand feels better.” you show her your hand, putting it out in front of her, it’s still red and swollen. “it’ll heal more. i’ll see you tomorrow, alright? get home safe danielle.”

danielle can’t really respond to you after that, you’re already waving to her once more before heading to your car. she watches you glance down at your hand, gently holding it as you do so. the guilt in her starts to grow even more.

–

hanni watches danielle storm into the house, rub her face with both hands, and plop onto the couch like she’s just gotten rejected by someone as if she were in some type of romance drama. 

“dani? what is up with you–”

“i’m a terrible person! my coworker probably hates me– i’ve been trying to warm up to her these past two weeks and then i go and burn her!”

hanni’s eyes widen, her brows raise, and her jaw drops. “you burned your coworker?”

with tired eyes and a bedhead, minji appears from the hall in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. she groans as she runs a hand through her hair, squinting her eyes. “what’s with all the noise? i’m trying to nap…”

“dani burned her coworker.”

minji’s a little more awake now, tilting her head. “the really pretty one?”

“yes!” danielle groans into the cushion, the bottom of her palms covering her eyes as she lies there defeatedly. when she takes her hands off her face, she opens her eyes to see minji and hanni hovering over as they stand, awaiting an explanation. “i’m a terrible person.”

hanni moves danielles legs over so that she can sit on the couch, putting her legs on her lap as the younger woman loses it. minji sits on the opposite end, putting her legs over on hanni’s lap as well and resting her head against a pillow.

“okay well why are you a terrible person?”

“i spilled hot coffee all over my coworker’s hand! gosh, i tried to apologize and everything, i even offered to compensate for the damage and she declined! y/n has to hate me…”

hanni looks over at minji to pout, then looks back at danielle. “hey, it was a mistake. what did she say?”

“well, she was really normal about it as if i didn’t just burn her hand, she brushed it off like it was nothing. i offered to have coffee with her or share some pastries but then she giggled and was all like ‘you’re really sweet but it’s okay’ and i don’t know, what if burning her hand makes her talk to me less and she hates me forever and–”

“dani.” minji butts in, making the younger one quiet down. “you made her laugh and she said you’re really sweet.”

“and?”

“and?” minji groans, sitting up on her elbows now. “dani, she said you’re really sweet. why wouldn’t she want to talk to you?”

“because i burned her? or maybe i’m annoying and talk too much but i really can’t help it-”

hanni puts a finger to danielles lips, dramatically shushing her. minji laughs at the action before hanni butts in, “dani, first of all; you’re not annoying. second; you’re literally the greatest person ever and i love you and if you ever stopped talking so much i’d have to i don’t know, die?”

minji snorts. “the hell?”

“what i’m saying is no one could ever hate you and honestly if she does; she’s not worth your time. plus, you shouldn’t waste your energy on someone who doesn’t appreciate you. you’re wonderful bro.” danielle’s eyes soften as she looks at hanni, and minji’s bottom lip protrudes from how sweet her words are. hanni sits danielle upright and puts both hands on her shoulders. “how about this: minji and i go visit you at work tomorrow and we’ll be the judge of your coworker.”

“you’d do that for me?”

hanni nods. “yes, but also please hook us up with some free pastries and drinks because i have to do a wrap around on this whole lecture so let's see it as an exchange, but also i love you dani and don’t want you losing your mind over this woman.”

“and i’ll be the judge of whether or not your coworker is as gorgeous as you think.” minji adds teasingly.

danielle smiles from ear to ear, making a small little noise as she pounces on hanni and hugs her like she’s her savior. minji laughs at the sight, smiling as well. 

–

you park near your cousin’s highschool, you always pick her up after opening shifts since the time aligns perfectly. you send a text to your cousin to let her know you’re there and your burnt hand sits on the wheel, so you take a few moments to examine it as you wait for a response.. 

minutes pass before your cousin arrives, knocking on the window and grinning at you, breaking you out of your small daydream.

“hi y/n, sorry i came so late, my teacher was being an ass.”

“language hyein.” you scoff, knowing damn well you curse like it’s your second language. hyein gets into the passengers seat and steals your phone, putting on a song as you start to drive again. “anyway, how was school?”

“oh god, it was so draining today. i swear my physics teacher wants me dead.”

“this is why you don’t take physics as a sophomore.”

“well someone won’t help me.” hyein rolls her eyes playfully, making you giggle. “anyway, school was just school. how was work?”

“it was alright, i kinda– well, my coworker spilled coffee on me. burned my hand a little but it’s not too bad.”

“the tall one? soobin? or was it the pretty one, your little work crush?” she raises her brows knowingly, smirking. 

hyein is one of very few people who you let loose around. despite your age gap, she’s your cousin, and your favorite one too. ever since you moved to live with her and her parents for school, you’ve gotten closer, spending hours rambling and practically getting glued to by the hip. she knew everything about you and what you felt.

she knew how you felt about your morning shifts; you coming home with a smile on your face after work was different. you dreaded work and the people you worked with for closing, all some stupid braindead men that you had to order around half the time. danielle and soobin were far from that. the duo eased your worries and actually did their job relatively well, you were able to do what you loved – stay stuck in the corner making all of the drinks – without worrying about the bakery. it was a breeze, you loved teh switch to mornings other than waking up at a time that has you quiet, moody, and only functioning after at least two shots of espresso.

hyein also knew about the interest you had in your new coworker danielle. you’ve never rambled about someone this much, calling her sweet, lovely, nice – not to mention the whole tangent regarding her eyes and pretty smile. hyein watched you chastise yourself for being so distant and avoidant because of your moods in the morning, comforting you for not being able to form decent bonds and friendships because of how early you had to get up.

you grip the wheel a little tighter. “danielle, it was an accident though.”

hyein eyes you. “so the pretty one.”

“her name is danielle.”

“point proven! you don’t just recognize your coworkers by how attractive they are you know…” hyein teases, “sometimes you talk about her and i wonder if my older cousin can finally be a normal person that’s capable of having a crush on someone.”

you keep your eyes on the road, but use your right hand to push her head playfully and ruffle her hair, earning a whine. 

“just because i think someone is pretty does not mean i like them. you’re so young, you don’t know shit about crushes and romance.”

“stop cursing.” hyein warns. the light turns red and you step on the break, then turn to look at her with raised brows. hyein laughs and cocks her head, giving you stupid puppy eyes. “i know when someone likes someone, or at least when they start to. you think she’s pretty but in a way that sounds like you’re an admirer.”

“what?”

“you tell me you can’t talk to her and look at her sometimes? y/n im sixteen, but im also not new to having crushes, ive been there. you like her.”

“do you want to walk home?”

hyein pouts, crossing her arms and making you laugh in the process. “youre no fun.”

“whatever.” you mumble.

when the two of you get home, hyein steals your keys to open the door to the house. she gets in first, obviously eager to do whatever it is that she’s up to after school — probably calling her friends or laying in bed.

you walk over to the kitchen and run your burnt hand under cold water, clenching your teeth slightly when you feel the stinging. 

in the drawer near you, there’s the first aid kit, over the counter tablets, and other health related items. you rummage through to find the burn relief cream, leaning against the countertop as you twist the cap open. you squeeze out a line of the cream that extends down to the base of your pointer finger, then you begin to rub your reddened skin. 

your thoughts drift to the moment of when you burned yourself—well, when danielle burned you. she had this look in her eyes, so pure and so regretful that it made you feel bad. 

she was so sweet with the offer, she’s ways so lovely. she’s honestly adorable. the way the words rushed out of her, the small pout on her lips and the fact that she offered to make it up to you. every nerve in your body wanted to accept the offer, but danielle shouldn’t have to pay or spend time on something to make things up to someone like you. it was a mistake after all. 

then your thoughts drift elsewhere, from the whole burnt-hand incident and then to the person who burned you–to danielle. she’s bubbly in the mornings and although you used to hate that, her smile and greetings started to wake you up a little more. the crinkle of her brow every time she catches you downing shots of espresso always makes you suppress a laugh, the expression is so adorable and she’s just so—

“stupid hyein,” you sigh to yourself.

youve been absentmindedly rubbing the burn-relief cream in the same spot for almost a minute, all because of your coworker taking over your thoughts. you begin to rub the rest of your hand and add another dot of cream to the lower area of your hand.

hyein’s called you out multiple times for having an alleged crush on your coworker, but you’ve always dismissed it. however, the words she’s said to you before ring in your head in the moment. you crease your brows and purse your lips subconsciously.

“maybe you can’t talk to her because you’re attracted to her and not because it’s 8 in the morning.” hyein shrugs, looking at you as you sit lazily on the couch. she’s lecturing you after another ramble about your day, the mere mention of danielle prompting her to quote on quote ‘educate you’ on what love is. “you talked to your friends perfectly during morning classes from what you’ve told me, maybe you’re just all shy and blushy and—“

you smack the palm of your hand on your forehead to stop yourself from thinking of that memory of you and your cousin.

“i don’t have a crush on danielle… what is she thinking?” you mumble to yourself. you halt your actions after the realization that you’ve just talked to yourself hits. you press a hand to your cheeks, feeling a weird warmth from your skin, making you shake your head and groan. “i can talk to her fine… just fine.”

 —

“morning!” danielle beams as she catches you walking in. you manage to shoot a small smile, danielle likes that you’ve been giving her more of those.

you put your bag in the cabinet, then put on your apron. without turning to face her, you start to speak, “danielle?”

she almost jumps, not expecting you to even interact with her. maybe you needed help with something? or a question regarding the new breakfast pastries.

“y/n, did you need something?”

you shake your head. “no, i just, um— how are you this morning?”

danielle pauses, you turn to meet her eyes and blink as you wait for an answer. your coworker short circuits momentarily before stumbling over her words as she responds, “oh, i’m— i’m great! tired of course, you know with school and all. thank you for asking y/n.”

“did you get enough sleep?” danielle looks at you after you ask that, wondering where all of this friendliness is coming from. she’s not against it though, maybe you’re just awake this morning.

“i tried to get as much as i could.” she says, then smiles. “is your hand okay?”

“it’s fine. i put ointment on it and it’s like nothing happened.” you assure.

without any warning, you disappear into the back, probably looking for dough to bake. danielle is still stuck in her place, blinking a few times before she runs the espresso machine. she wonders for a moment, furrowing her brow at the rare interaction that you started. but then, she’s grinning to herself just thinking about it all.

danielle wonders: maybe you don’t hate her, maybe her roommates were right. 

—

you hear a bundle of voices, three to be exact.  when you look up from the steam wand, you’re met with three women that all look your age—they all probably go to your university, or maybe the other one that’s also close by.

one of them walks up to the register, soobin greets them, but their attention seems to be on you for a bit.

“hi, is danielle here?” one asks. 

soobin nods, still looking at the screen of the register. “yeah, she’s in the back. did you need her?”

“we’re really close with her, could you grab her?”

soobin nods again, humming in response before he walks over to the door leading to the back. 

you continue to make the cappuccino that an older lady ordered a few minutes ago, creating a small lavender looking design with the steamed milk and pushing it out on the counter. 

“for park!” you call out, the lady comes up to the counter in seconds and smiles at you. she pats your shoulder and it makes your heart warm knowing she’s happy with it.

the three girls from before, they continue to eye you from the register until danielle is back, and when she returns, she starts squealing at the sight of them.

“you guys really came!” danielle beams, immediately reaching over to hug them as best as she can with the counter in the way. “what pastries did you all want? oh! i can also grab you drinks.”

the one with bangs nods, then orders for all of them. “mmm i’ll have an iced vanilla latte, minji wants a hot tea and haerin just wants a cookie and iced tea. you know she’s out early today? oh my god, as soon as we heard we scooped her up immediately-“

the rest of their conversation doesn’t process in your head as you start with the drinks. you had just put the puck in the machine, twisted it in place and started to pull the espresso before you feel a tap on your shoulder.

danielle meets your eyes and you feel yourself soften up a bit. 

she tugs on the cloth covering your shoulder just a bit before she speaks. “hey.”

“hi?” 

“can i introduce you to my roommates and our friend? you wouldn’t mind? would you?”

“oh, no— but i’m kind of… making one of their drinks right now.”

“oh, sorry— wait what?  i was going to make them—“

“well since they’re you’re friends i think they’d appreciate their drinks out earlier. and it’s okay, don’t be sorry danielle. i’ll do whatever if it’s not busy and when i’m done.” you swear you see a little more pink on her cheeks than usual, stronger than the blush she wears—you could be wrong.

“right, yeah, do your job!”

you stifle a giggle and purse your lips to conceal your smile, ultimately failing. danielle’s tone and mood are contagious sometimes.

(all the time.)

when you’re finished with the drinks — danielle had lingered nearby here and there as you made them — you placed them on the little counter for danielle to pick up. she had smiled at you, mouthed a “thank you,” and rushed over to sit down with her friends. 

it wasn’t busy at all, the only other customers in the bakery had been a corporate man that soobin was tending to. the man bought a loaf of milk bread and ordered a brewed coffee, soobin could handle all of that. he will handle all of that.

danielle sits with her friends at the table, giggling as she does so and looking as happy as ever. there’s a weird flutter in your stomach, like someone poking you there from the inside and it’s not that it hurts, it’s just odd. 

pretending to busy yourself is something you’re really good at doing, and plus, it’s a great way to excuse your glances toward danielle as she talks to her friends. she’s really smiley and giddy, it’s the cutest thing ever.

a few minutes pass and you’re still bagging some items, daydreaming as you do so. 

(danielle seemed to pop up here and there, strangely enough.

here and there turned into her being the star of the dreams.)

you’re in your own world until a faint “hey y/n!” is muttered into your ear, making you jump and almost elbow your pretty coworker.

“did i startle you? i’m so sorry—“ danielle starts, but you’re quick to cut her off as soon as she begins to apologize. 

“no, no. sorry i was in my own world.”

“i get that.” she chuckles, “hey, most of the things are bagged–i was wondering if you’d like to meet my friends? soobin is cashiering and he should be fine since it’s not too busy so…?”

you take a quick glance and look over at her friends who are looking at the two of you eagerly. the one with bangs has this smirk on her face, making you hesitate.

“please? i don’t know why but–” danielle lies, she knows why. “um, they want to meet you.”

“me?” 

“yes!”

you pause and honestly think of declining until danielle shoots her bottom lip out a bit. in no time you’re biting the inside of your cheek before responding with a nod, and you’re so grateful because she’s grabbing your hand—two fingers of yours—and leading you over to the small table near the windows.

danielle is gripping your pointer and middle finger lightly, but it feels like she has a hold on you as a whole. your body is all warm and fuzzy and your mind is hazy and her skin is really soft and nice and—

“this is y/n!” she introduces, letting go of your fingers. “y/n, these are my roommates hanni minji, and this is haerin.”

“nice to meet you all.” you greet softly with a small smile. they all stare and you feel yourself shrinking under all the pairs of eyes. you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue before clearing your throat. “are the drinks alright?”

minji scans your face, eyes tracing each and every feature before her gaze softens. she nods at you and responds, “they’re great, wonderful.”

you nod at her and grin again, looking down at the table to avoid any eye contact. 

hanni chuckles. “yeah this latte is actually amazing, danielle’s made me lattes before but they’ve never been this good.”

“y/n is really good at making the drinks, practically keeping the bakery in business. i bet our boss is happy with you in the mornings.” danielle completely ignores hanni’s teasing and adds to the praise, making you wave your hand and shake your head.

“ah, no, no. i mean i can only make drinks but danielle is really good at every aspect of her job, she’s wonderful with customers.”

“oh stop–”

“no, you are.” you look up to make eye contact with her, then look over to soobin, who’s brewing another batch of coffee. “soobin is great, but he’s really clumsy sometimes and it’s kind of funny catching him stumbling over words. you’re a natural.”

“you’re so sweet.” danielle mutters in awe before  lips turn up even more, her cheeks flush slightly and her friends all look at each other with smirks on their faces. 

“i um, i try–”

you hear the door opening and two pairs of very familiar voices make you turn immediately. turning around, you see your cousin and her best friend in a group with three others you just barely recognize. danielle spots this as well, she starts to stand before you pause her in the act.

“danielle, i got it.”

“it’s a big group y/n.” she continues to stand up, but when you place your hand on her arm lightly it’s like you’ve frozen her in place. minji and hanni immediately give each other knowing looks, and haerin observes the whole ordeal intensely. 

“it’s my cousin and her friends, you should stay and hangout with your friends. besides, you haven’t had a break today, relax.” your hand slides down to her forearm without any thought. despite the small action, danielle is flustered by it.

“you sure?”

“positive,” you affirm, then look at all her friends. “it was nice meeting you all.”

the group watches you walk over behind the counter, and as soon as you’re at a distance where they can talk without you hearing anything, danielle’s friends – minji and hanni for the most part – go ham on her.

“oh yeah she’s gorgeous.” minji chimes in, shrugging it off like you’re not the prettiest person danielle has seen. “you were right.”

just gorgeous? 

“yeah she’s really pretty dani. and also, she doesn’t hate you, there’s no way.” hanni says as she munches on a croissant, earning a punch to the arm from minji. hanni whines, croissant still in her mouth, “hey! what was that for?”

“finish chewing before you talk! you’re so gross…” 

“you didn’t have to hit me!” hanni groans, nudging minji with her shoulder.

haerin rolls her eyes at the two before taking a sip from her iced tea, watching danielle glance at you. haerin has known danielle for a while, the last time she had been like this was forever ago, this admiration can’t be something that’s purely platonic, not with those dilated pupils and puppy eyes. 

and you, you’re no different either. haerin watches you glance over to make eye contact with danielle, eyes softening and your teeth showing as you smile at her the moment you meet each others features. 

while minji and hanni continue to bicker, haerin continues observing. danielle is making it look like she’s invested in the bickering – which, she very much is; it’s always entertaining when the two argue over stupid things – but her mind is somewhere else.  

“danielle,”

“haerin?” danielle turns her head and hums in response.

haerin blinks. “you like her.”

minji and hanni stop bickering, their presence enhancing the shiver down her spine.

“no, no. i just think she’s really interesting, i couldn’t possibly–”

haerin shakes her head, putting a hand up. “you look at her like she’s… like there’s a halo around her head.”

“i–” danielle turns to glance at you again. you’re laughing with one of the girls, she assumes it’s your cousin that you mentioned. you flick the younger girl’s forehead and she groans, which earns the most pure, natural laugh and smile she’s ever seen on your face. you’re cute, especially when all of your teeth are showing as you laugh. when you make eye contact with your coworker again through waterlined eyes, your lips purse into a closed smile.

danielle is blushing, her cheeks burn, and the vulnerability is displayed right in front of her friends. she tries to laugh it off, but hanni’s jaw drops and she throws a hand over her mouth.

“oh my god.”

minji starts to chuckle. “she has a point, danielle. whether you know it or not, it makes sense.”

“i barely know anything about her, you can’t be serious.” danielle rolls her eyes and pouts. “even if i did, it’d be impossible to even do anything remotely romantic. she’s like stone.

“she was literally everything but stone from what i saw earlier.” haerin comments. “danielle, it’s okay to have a crush on someone, you know?”

hanni hums in agreement. “yup, and you really need to stop that flirting you do with us every ten seconds because it’s grueling and if you’re going to flirt, flirt with someone you actually want because everytime you say anything remotely flirtatious ten years of my life get taken away.”

minji snorts and danielle can’t help but do so as well. “wooow, my flirting is very wonderful thank you.” she crosses her arms and looks over at you again. “and what if y/n doesn’t like my flirting?”

“nah,” hanni sips on her drink. “you called her a good barista or whatever and i saw her like, malfunction for two seconds. she was blushing a little.”

“well she wears blush so–”

“dani, can you–” hanni facepalms. “just, shhh. she doesn’t hate you and you know what, you can build off of that.”

haerin shrugs before taking a few more sips of her tea. “yeah, she’s pretty and smiles at you sweetly. it’s not impossible.”

danielle takes one more look at you, you’re still chatting with your cousin and her friend seems to be joined in the conversation as well. the rest of the group of teenagers have left, so the place is pretty empty. you smile here and there as you clean the counter and wipe the machine, occasionally looking at the two girls who converse with each other.

“okay dani, i love you but i also need to get this lecture noted and also oh my god i have a report due tomorrow and–”

 hanni feels a finger to her lips, similar to how she shushed danielle the night before, but now it’s reversed. minji snorts and haerin laughs before danielle assures, “go, go. i’ll see you later and bring extra snacks hanni.” 

the group begins to clear the table, dismissing danielles efforts to leave it be so she can take care of it. they all bring their silverware and dishes to the little trays near the trash before walking over to the exit, each girl hugging danielle before they all leave the bakery.

when danielle turns around, she spots you still conversing with the girls, but tending to the daily housekeeping simultaneously. you look up and catch her in your eye again, displaying a small, toothy smirk at her.

danielle chuckles to herself, making you do the same even as she moves over to package pastries.

–

today is your offday, so you’d usually wake up two hours later than you usually do for work. but when your phone rings around the same time you’d arrive at work, you groggily reach over to squint your eyes at the screen, reading the contact name that is calling you at this time in the morning:

incoming call: danielle

“does she know im not working? shouldn’t she be off today too…” you mumble to yourself before picking up and putting your phone on speaker. “hello?”

“y/n, hi, did i wake you up? you sound tired, ah, i’m sorry.”

feeling bad, you lie to her. “no, i’ve been awake for a bit now. is everything alright?”

“i just wanted to ask, um, how far do you live from work?”

“less than ten minutes, why do you ask?”

“i’m sorry if this is a big favor but i’m supposed to cover for soobin today since he’s sick. i walked to work since i live a fifteen minute walk away, not too far, but i forgot the keys and it’s storming really badly…”

you’re a little more awake now after hearing the light rumble of thunder coming from outside, it urges you to rub your eyes. “danielle, are you safe from the storm right now?”

“i mean, i’m standing under the little roof thing near the entrance. water can’t get me from here.”

“jesus,” you mutter to yourself, then jump at the next sharp thundering sound that comes after. “i’ll be there soon, okay? i’ll pick you up and you can just give me the directions to your place. be careful, i’m on my way.”

“thank you so much, im sorry again–”

“no, no. it’s fine, i’ll be there, see you.”

before she can respond, you hang up on her, running to the bathroom to splash water on your face and fix your disheveled bedhead up. then, you run towards the entrance of your house and grab your keys that hang on the hook near the door, slide your slides on, and quickly run out.

it’s storming hard, and you’ve already gotten a clue on how bad since you had been pretty drenched from simply walking to your car. 

you speed through the neighborhood and into the main road to get to the bakery faster. desperately looking through the windshield for your coworker, you spot her near the entrance just as she said, then drive up as close as you can.

rolling down your window, a bit of water gets on your face, hair, and the top of your shirt – but it doesn’t stop you from yelling, “get in!”

in a few seconds, danielle is in the passenger seat, her hair visibly damp but not too wet. she runs a hand through it, and it feels like your heart just skipped a beat. her hair is wavy now, more than usual, quite curly. was it always like this? her hair looks beautiful, framing her face perfectly, strands sticking to her skin from the raindrops—like elements of a painting coming together to create something breathtaking.

“sorry, i would’ve asked my roommates but they had some important stuff for their classes and whatnot so they left earlier this morning. i also didn’t want to wake minji up, i know her lectures are pretty bad.”

how thoughtful of her. 

shaking your head, you respond, “it’s fine, i just don’t want you getting sick. i’m glad you called.”

“really?”

“u-uh, i mean, yeah. i’m still not the best at opening and you’re pretty much the best at everything so… soobin and i need you in the mornings. i know im off today but whoever is working this morning probably needs you.”

“aw, that’s so sweet of you.” danielle’s smile grows and grows as she notices everything about you in the moment: your hair is messy, you have some old, loose t-shirt on with some poorly scribbled figure of… you? then, a small giggle leaves her lips once she notices the dog prints on your pajama pants. 

your blush grows deeper with each passing second. “i um, didn’t have time to change. do you want to type your address in my phone or…?”

“you look so cute y/n.” it slips out of danielles lips, but she’s able to play it off well with the little tilt of her head and a sly smirk. it works wonders on you. “i like your shirt and pants.”

you cough to ease your nerves, then shift the stick of your decade-old, hand-me-down five seat toyota to ‘drive.’

“my cousin made it for me when i was still in highschool a while ago. sorry, that’s not important.” you facepalm yourself mentally. danielle thinks this little story is very important, but you cut yourself off.  “do you just want to tell me the directions?”

adorable, danielle almost says out loud. 

“yeah, turn left at the stop.” 

danielle spends the rest of the time staring out the car and gazing out to see the rain that pours down from above. you’re stiff in your seat the whole time, especially when she does that little thing where she glances at you with those pretty eyes occasionally. it’s a simple look and yet you’re flustered beyond words.

you reach an apartment complex and drive as close as you can to the entrance. she gets out and mutters a haste “i’ll be quick” before leaving you alone with a racing heart and flushed face.

when she returns, there’s an umbrella in her hands and the keys to the bakery. once she gets in, you start to drive back.

“danielle?” 

“mhm?”

“is your hair naturally like that?” you ask. 

“ah,” she moves a hand to her hair to run her fingers through, though not without a little struggle. “i straighten it usually, it’s easier to maintain. the rain must’ve made it a little curly again huh?”

“i think your hair is beautiful like that, really.” you admit, eyes stuck on the road. “you look good with any hairstyle.”

“why thank you! i could say that for you as well.”

you scoff playfully, shaking your head as you turn into the bakery parking lot. “right, like my half-awake head is even the tiniest bit alluring.”

she winks at you, leaning in just a bit closer. “i think it enhances the natural allure, no?”

words get stuck in your throat, danielle laughs, and then she waves at you as she gets out the car. the rain has stopped just in time for her to clock in and a little beam of light hits her in the best way possible. you can’t help but stare at her in awe. 

“thank you for keeping me from getting drenched, you’re the sweetest.”

“yeah, i mean, you’re kind of the pillar. our boss isn’t ever here, you’re practically the boss no?”

“you’re too charming, i’ll see you in a few days?”

your mouth opens but nothing comes out for a moment, not until a bright idea pops up in your head.

“i can take you home after work, don’t want you walking in these conditions.”

“y/n,” she starts, looking confused. “it stopped raining.”

“it’s whatever, you know what– i can drive you to work in the mornings.”

“oh, you really don’t have to. isn’t the gas money quite–”

“no, no. i’ll give you a call or text next week, it’s nothing. see you danielle.”

–

little did you know, this would turn into a routine–the small gesture of picking up danielle instead of letting her walk in the mornings.

sure, she got a little less cardio, but she managed to crack that shell open just enough to glimpse what was inside. and everything hidden by your reserved demeanor was everything that made her heart flutter and more. each feature and curve of your face, beautifully highlighted by the soft glow of the café lamps captivated her beyond measure. but what she loved most was your personality—every word, every gesture. it captivated her in ways she hadn’t expected, and she found herself falling deeper with each passing moment.

you were caring, sweet, and had lots to share. there was never a dull moment with you the moment she figured out how to get you to talk a little more.

as for you, mornings weren't dreadful anymore. you started waking up earlier than usual just to make it to danielle's on time. you liked this new routine—seeing danielle first thing in the morning, sharing a coffee with her, chatting while the pastries baked. the smell of fresh coffee and baking bread filled the air, making the workspace warm and inviting. just being in her presence was the perfect start to your day. her laughter and smiles made everything brighter, transforming mundane, tiring mornings into something special.

and what kind of cousin would you be if you hadn’t told hyein everything like the two of you usually do. hyein is on the other side of the couch starting at you smile as you ramble about this routine you’ve fallen into with heart eyes and a wide grin.

“i mean, i haven’t ever liked mornings since her.” you begin, your fingers starting to fiddle with one another. “and oh my god she keeps flirting with me! it’s actually terrible. do you know how hard it is to stay normal when she’s calling me what, a fucking angel first thing in the morning? and it doesn’t help that she’s literally gorgeous, i mean you’ve seen her; she’s straight out of a dream.”

hyein groans as she sits up. “well if you’re so in love, quit complaining to me, you’ve been like this since the month started.”

you sit up as well, furrowing your brows. “what?”

“just ask her out already! it’s clear she’s into you.”

“i think she’s just flirty though.”

“old and stupid oh, you piss me off.” hyein throws a pillow at you, making you yell ‘hey!’ before throwing it back at her face. she laughs before clinging the pillow close. “but really, at least a ‘friend’ date or something… it would bring you two closer. those morning rides aren’t going to lead to anything more than what you already have, probably. plus, soobin and actually working gets in the way of your little lovey-dovey stuff.”

you look at her, biting your lip as you ponder.

hyein is right, hell, she always is. for a child, she’s pretty good with giving advice and an even better listener. she’s your best friend and favorite relative all in one, it would be somewhat betraying to not take the advice.

“well, what if she’s taken?”

“oh my god…” your cousin throws her head onto the cushion of the couch. “she calls you pretty and flirts with you – girl, of course she’s single.”

“okay but… i don’t know.”

“well i know that you’re stupid as hell.”

“language!”

“just check her instagram or something? people with significant others always post something.”

you fall silent, biting your lip again before looking at her with an apologetic feeling in your eye. “i don’t have anything but her number…”

“oh y/n, that’s not a problem at all.” hyein rolls her eyes and scoots up next to you, leaning against your shoulder as you peer over to watch what she’s doing. she holds the phone up to your face to unlock it and taps on the intagram icon, immediately clicking  on the search bar. “do you know her last name?”

“um, it starts with an m i think?”

“you don’t know her last name?”

“why would i know this?”

“do you have an app for your schedules or anything? oh my god, you’re seriously getting on my nerves… i can’t believe you managed to even have a girlfriend for that one year–”

you cringe at the mention of your history with women. “okay don’t mention that please… and fuck her, she was terrible to me.” you frown.

“sorry,” hyein know’s she’s hit a little spot, knowing your past with much detail, then continues. “anyway, let’s just search her up and…” she types in ‘d-a-n-i-e-l-l-e’ into the search and a few accounts pop up. she looks at the small profile pictures displayed and the first one makes her click her tongue. “found it!”

her page is pretty just from the first glance–you two haven’t even looked at any of the posts or highlights either. danielle’s profile picture is jus ther with a beanie over her head and looking at the camera with her pretty eyes and god you almost melt right then and there because no model could top her visuals. 

you reach over to scroll through her posts; she has thirteen in total, and a few catch your eye. one post, in particular, stands out: a single photo of her posing in front of a mirror, wearing a crop top that shows off her slim figure and a denim jacket hanging loosely off one shoulder. she looks absolutely stunning. as you stare at the image, lips slightly parted in awe, hyein looks over and sees your intense gaze. before you can react, you're interrupted by a playful pinch to your cheek.

“you’re so down bad.”

“i’m not!” you scoff, taking the phone out from her hands and scrolling yourself. 

there are photos of her with friends, snapshots of mesmerizing views (though none as captivating as her), pictures with her family, beach scenes, dogs, and several selfies—you find yourself lingering on those a bit longer. her entire page perfectly matches her energy; it's cute and vibrant. as you scroll, hyein catches you smiling to yourself, lost in the charm of danielle’s online presence.

one of her more recent posts, posted about three months ago, catches your eye. it’s her and haerin posing together with haerin’s face being cupped by danielle’s hand as they pose. the caption has your heart sinking a bit (a lot).

“beautiful, gorgeous, and lovely birthday girl💋👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 i love you lots sweetie”

hyein catches the whole thing live, watching your small smile turn into pursed lips. “that doesn’t mean anything y/n, friends can be like that.”

“they’re pretty close…” you swipe to see a picture of danielle’s nose nuzzled into haerin’s cheek and frown. “she’s taken.”

your heart sinks even more just looking at the picture longer, urging hyein to snatch your phone out of your hands and click on the mentioned tags. she finds haerin’s account – it’s public, thankfully – and roams around as you sit there defeatedly.

it’s not looking the best so far, not when hyein clicks on a post with danielle and her group of friends, and after hyein swipes to the next photo she’s met with danielle and haerin hugging each other, cheeks pressed together as they pose for the photo. you catch a glimpse before your head falls over on hyein’s shoulder like you’ve just come back from an unsuccessful war.

“it’s over.”

“y/n, lift your head up! i pose with my friends like this too… maybe she’s touchy.”

“not with me.” you pout. hyein flicks your forehead. “hey!”

“stupid,” she says. “maybe it’s because she likes you and is wary of boundaries. from what i’m seeing, you should initiate.”

“i can’t possibly do that.”

“you’re literally a liar.” she spits out. “as soon as your friends initiate something you’re clinging like a koala, even with me you’re like that.”

you fall over onto the couch, giving up and looking up at the ceiling; your life isn’t over because your really adorable, amazing, lively, vibrant, cute, helpful, captivating, adorable coworker is taken. 

(it’s over.)

hyein allows you to sulk for a moment before widening her eyes and gasping, “wait, i literally know haerin.”

“you do?”

“kind of. i just checked her account on my phone and a lot of people i know follow her, she’s that pretty upperclassman everyone likes. there’s no way she’s dating danielle, like, i have proof.”

sitting up immediately, you crunch your brows. “are you serious?”

“yeah. my friend is friends with her, she’s very much single and i don’t think she wants to mingle.”

“holy shit, you’re serious?”

“language~” hyein teases. “yes, i’m not trying to feed your delusions by the way–i don’t support homewrecking.”

you practically pouce at hyein and tackle her into a loving, grateful hug. she squeaks at the contact, but warms up into the hug. 

“i love you forever, i’ll buy you lunch and treat you to pastries and anything and–”

“it’s fiiinneee.” hyein pulls away and chuckles at you. “i just want to help you out and be happy. and after seeing danielle… she’s really adorable and you’re so giddy for her so she must be wonderful.”

“she is.”

“yeah, all you do is run your mouth about her.”

a laugh is shared between the two of you before hyein reaches for the remote to turn on the tv. you go back to your phone, clicking on danielle’s profile to stalk her again, lingering on posts of herself. you feel your cheeks burning and somehow the little glare your cousin gives you despite her not being in your vision or peripheral.

–

you’ve been reluctant on asking danielle out, even if it’s a simple ‘hangout’ or ‘friend date.’ she’s effortlessly charming as always with each interaction, even getting bold and watching you from over your shoulder at times – everything she does makes your heart beat and beat and beat.

danielle’s been equally flustered and enamored by how open you’ve been with her. the two of you have cracked jokes and shared small stories during the quiet moments with soobin, but danielle especially enjoys you just by yourself. there’s something much more tender about you when it’s just the two of you. you’re physically more touchy wth danielle, and she can’t really tell if it’s on purpose or you’re just touchy like that. you often shove her playfully in conversations, and when you both lean against the counter, you somehow manage to move over ever so slightly so that your arms are touching. 

your coworker has been attentive to all of this, unsure of whether this is just how you are and she’s overthinking things, or this being something more–maybe a sign that maybe you’re into her just a bit.

none of you question it really, and besides, danielles just as touchy. she sometimes leans her head on your shoulder – but very, very briefly – when something is amusing, and sometimes her hands find their way to your hair to fix it, or maybe even to your forearm just because. 

soobin is a bystander, the poor guy thinks it’s just how girls are and is completely oblivious that the two of you are fighting the thick tension in the air.

–

the last coffee beans were grinded, so you tap on soobin’s shoulder and tell him that you’re going to the back to grab more. he nods at you and sends you that pursed grin, you place a hand on his shoulder and thank him.

when you reach the small closet, you find danielle in the room as well, rummaging for packaging and more boxes for the pastries and desserts. she’s oblivious to your presence until you knock flicker the light on and off once, making her squeal and jump from surprise. your coworker turns around and hits the rack unknowingly, when she sees you, she starts to calm down.

“y/n! you scared me!”

you laugh. “sorry, i just needed some–”

above danielle, you spot a bag of coffee beans—at least three pounds heavy—starting to tip. before it can fall, you move without hesitation. you rush over, reaching out and getting on your tiptoes to catch it with one hand just in time.

a sigh of relief leaves your lips, but you catch your breath again as soon as you look back down.

danielle is close. her face is a few inches apart from you and your hand is still up to hold the coffee beans, making the moment much more intimate and nerve-racking than it actually is. she looks at you intensely, her lips parting before her eyes dart down to your lips. 

“y/n,” she almost whispers.

you gulp and look down at her lips, then away, putting your arm down and grabbing the coffee beans with you as you do so. your faces are closer now and you feel your heartbeat rapidly pounding against your chest, threatening to break through. danielle still stares at the features presented to her, pupils dilating.

you break the tension, looking away and stepping back, holding the coffee beans to your chest almost like you’re hugging them. your eyes dart around the room nervously, your cheeks burn like they’re steak being put onto a hot iron skillet, and you gulp one last time.

“the um, t-the beans… they almost fell on you.”

“yeah?” 

“i’m um, i need to uh– yeah, there’s no more grinds and i need to make a latte…”

“right.” danielle starts to smirk, looking at the aftermath on your face. “you do that then. oh, and by the way.”

“hm?”

she steps forward to push hair out your face and behind your ear, her fingers graze against the back of it. “your ears are red–and warm.”

“oh, um, maybe.” you mumble softly. danielle giggles at you before you leave the room, 

–

the two of you don’t speak on the incident the rest of the shift since danielle can tell you’re flustered and she’s also really good at keeping a conversation going. plus, work is in the way at times, so doing your job saves you.

after you two clock out for the day, both of you walk to your car and danielle watches you closely before looking out the window again. you feel a shiver down your spine as you get out the parking spot and the grip on the wheel is tighter the whole way to her apartment complex.

you park in front of the entrance, danielle unbuckles her seatbelt and says, “thanks for the ride.”

“it’s no problem.”

“i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“yup.” 

your coworker narrows her eyes at you, looking at you questionably as if she were expecting something different. she puts her hand on yours, smiles, then gets out the car. 

she starts to walk towards the entrance, and as she walks through the door you huff.

“i can’t be like this, fuck me. another lecture from hyein would kill me.” you groan.

you grab your keys, unbuckle your seatbelt, and get out the car as soon as possible. you sprint towards the entrance and look around for danielle, catching a glimpse of her walking towards the stairs, so you follow after her.

she’s already up a flight somehow right when you reach the bottom of the stairwell, you catch her hair just barely and shout up at her,

“danielle!” she looks down to see you breathing a little heavier than normal. “wait!”

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“i– wait there.” you call out before running up the stairs. danielle doesn’t listen and starts to walk down as well, which leads to you running into her when you clash halfway, accidentally bumping her. “s-sorry.” 

“you’re out of breath.”

inhaling quickly, you nod. “a bit.”

danielle laughs. “why did you run after me?”

“i was um, i was wondering…” you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, struggling to make eye contact with her. “are you um, well, fuck, sorry– okay, um.”

“take your time.” she teases.

you giggle before looking into her eyes and composing yourself. “do you want to hangout outside of work sometime? i really… like working with you and talking and yeah all of it, but work kind of limits a lot.”

she looks at you with a growing blush fostering her cheeks. one good look at you–messy hair tucked behind your ears, the baby tee hugging you, your flushed face from running, the adorable look you give her as you wait for an answer – danielle nods and her teeth show as she smiles at you.

“i would love that.”

“really?” you ask, eyes widening. you shake your head and laugh to yourself before asking, “when is good for you?”

“i’m not doing anything right now, are you?”

“i need to pick my cousin up soon but that’s it.”

“okay! you should go pick up your cousin and we can head downtown?”

“oh, now? today?” you say in disbelief; danielle hasn’t given you a chance to plan or mentally prepare for this. you’re already winded, but this is like a tornado picking you up and throwing you over to another continent. “i mean, yes, that’s perfect, yeah.”

“pick me up later then, that alright?”

“i’ll text you when hyein– er, when i drop my cousin off.”

“perfect, i’ll see you then?”

“yes, mhm.”

–

you’ve never driven so fast, nor have you gotten ready so quickly. your cousin gripped the door handle tightly as you sped fifteen miles over the limit in a neighborhood, glancing at your concentrated, flushed face.

usually, hyein is the one rushing home after school since it makes her homesick. but today, the unexpected sight of you bursting into the house, darting to your room, and emerging five minutes later with a denim jacket, jeans, and makeup on left her wide-eyed.

hyein’s laying on the couch when she catches you fixing your hair in the mirror, clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath.

“what’s up with you.”

“danielle.”

“elaborate?”

“i dropped her home and asked her to hangout and then i was like ‘oh okay when?’ and she’s basically saying that now, today, like later. i have to pick her up like right now– wait, do i look good? too much? too little? is it–”

“you look fine y/n, very pretty. i think danielle will appreciate it.”

“you sure?”

hyein sighs and stands up, you’re a little taller then her, so she has to tilt her head up just barely to fix your hair and pat down your jacket. 

“stop stressing, it’s just a hangout, no? you didn’t say it was a date did you?”

shit. 

“i mean no, but–”

“okay so stop stressing and go pick her up!” hyein rolls her eyes at you. “you’ll do great kid.”

“who are you calling kid?” 

“blah blah blah, go get out the house.”

you look at her defeatedly, brows curled up and a pout played on your lips. hyein simply laughs at you before you grab your keys, tote bag, and head out the door.

-

you reach her apartment complex and spot her outside, waiting while engrossed in her phone. danielle jumps when a car honks at her, but then she sees you in the driver’s seat. a smile spreads across her face, and she runs over to you, her excitement palpable.

danielle gets in the passengers seat. “hello again.”

“hi.”

“downtown? are we going to metro or are you going to park there.”

“it’s a surprise,” you smirk mischieviously before starting to drive. danielle giggles and trusts your little ‘surprise.’

the car ride is filled with laughter as you two sing along to your favorite songs. despite having slightly different music tastes, there are many songs that you both enjoy and can belt out together until you find a good spot to park in the city.

danielle waits for you as you pay for parking, looking out at the social city and lovely views. but one view is lovelier than the city, lovelier than everything really. her lips turn up when she looks at you pressing the button and grabbing the ticket that’s dispensed out. 

you fix your hair. “okay, before we go to the surprise did you want to check out the stores?”

“i don’t go downtown too often, so i don’t know what’s good.”

“me neither,” you shrug, then look around. “the city is big, we can surely find something we both like. i hope you like exploring.”

“if it’s with you, then why wouldn’t i like exploring?”

you're caught off guard by the compliment, opting for a chuckle to hide how it makes your heart run a marathon and your tummy twist and turn.

three hours pass but you swear it’s only been thirty minutes. 

the two of you walked everywhere, exploring small cafes, charming clothing stores, and vintage record shops. danielle made sure to take as many pictures of you as possible, insisting on "capturing the moment" and telling you that you're "adorable." her reasons made you giggle nervously, each compliment warming your heart.

you hold onto danielle’s bag of clothes and trinkets she had bought – you practically had to fight her to simply hold the bag – as you lead her down an alleyway. she’s following you mindlessly, not questioning your sudden change in plans since it must be part of your oh-so-lovely surprise.

“i’ve had a lovely time with you, we should spend time together outside of work much more often.” she says softly, turning to look at you and smile. she’s glowing. 

it's five in the evening, and the sun is beginning to set, golden rays seeping through the little cracks in the alleyway. each beam enhances her already striking features. her eyes shine when they catch the light, turning her brown eyes into a mesmerizing gold. the wind tousles her curly hair, making her even more beautiful with each stray strand. the way her teeth peek out when her smile widens makes your knees weak—you could stare at her for hours.

she snaps you out your trance. “y/n, can i ask you something?”

“yeah, what is it?”

“did you not like me when we first met?” 

you two continue to walk, but you’ve fallen silent. looking down at the ground, you shake your head and turn to look at her again.

“no, no that’s not it.” you shake your hands in defense. “i’m just… not a morning person, and very cautious.”

she giggles, “what?”

“when i did closing, all my coworkers were terrible. it was a nightmare despite being awake at the time, you know? and it’s different waking up so early for me, i’m not a morning person in any way.”

“i’m aware.” danielle interjects, making you roll your eyes and shove her with your shoulder playfully. 

you look around the area, clicking your tongue as everything starts to become recognizable. grabbing her hand, you find a little exit and lead her to a small area overlooking a part of the city near the river. it’s beautiful, and danielle is mesmerized by the view.

from where you both stand, you watch her mouth fall open, her hand almost covering it. she sighs in awe, taking in the scene—the buildings with some windows lit and others dark, the flowers in full bloom, and the trees with vibrant leaves.

“y/n, was this the surprise?”

you start to walk ahead, then turn around and motion with your head for her to follow. she watches you sit down on a rock that luckily has space for two people. she sits down next to you, watching as you prop yourself up with both hands behind your back.

you both sit in comfortable silence, the golden hues of the sunset reflecting off the river and casting a warm glow over everything. danielle’s eyes dart from the view to you, her smile never fading. you catch her gaze and smile back, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. the moment feels perfect–it is perfect.

“this is the surprise, and also kind of my apology for being an ass to you the first few weeks of working.”

danielle admires the side of your face as you watch the view, the sun hitting you beautifully, tracing each feature she adores the most.

“i’m not a morning person, and i guess i was stubborn and always pissy. i didn’t want to talk a lot because i was scared of you and soobin – mostly you – being terrible like the closing staff.” you meet her eyes with your own. “but you’re far from that.”

she does that thing where her eyes soften and her lips form something between a pout and a smile, much like the time she talked about a puppy she ran into on the street. but now, the emotion of adoration and awe is much more intense. her gaze seems to hold a deeper meaning, reflecting the beauty of the moment and the bond you share. 

“y/n, you’re so…” she covers her face with a hand, concealing her blush. “you’re wonderful.”

“i just wanted to share a view i really like with you, since i appreciate you a lot, you know? and we’ve been getting close so… i just… yeah.”

avoiding her look, you turn to watch the view again. yeah, you’d much rather be staring at her while she admires the view, but you can’t possibly do that when the sun is exposing your crimson cheeks.

“can i take a picture of you?” she asks, pulling out her phone. “you’re just so gorgeous right now, i really want to have something to look back on later.”

look back on you? you?

“yeah, sure.” you respond bashfully.

she holds her phone up, then looks at you, grins, and says, “cheese!”

you chuckle and shoot her a lovely, toothy, beaming smile. “cheese!”

–

the two of you alternate between talking and admiring the view for another two hours until the sun starts to set. by then, danielle has ended up close to you, your arms touching purposefully.

as you walk back to your car, a gust of wind brushes past and danielle shivers. she's only wearing a cropped t-shirt and sweatpants, which isn’t ideal for the cooler night. without a second thought, you slip off your jacket and drape it over her shoulders, grinning.

“thank you, y/n,” she says, looking up at you through her eyelashes. “you’re not cold?” 

you shake your head, the warmth from the evening and the moment enough to keep you comfortable. “nope, i’m good,” you reply, enjoying the way she pulls your jacket closer around herself. it looks even better on her.

“i have a longsleeve on, and i don’t want you getting sick dani.”

her eyes widen and she gasps. “oh my god.”

“what?”

“you called me dani!”

you ‘tsk’ at her and shake your head, but smile to yourself. “yeah and?”

“you never ever call me that.”

“well i’m very fond of you now so… dani it is.”

both of you continue on to the car, enjoying each others presence while lingering close.

–

you reach her apartment complex and somehow those five – almost six – hours seemed like they weren’t enough. the last thing you wanted was the night to end, but here you are, parked in front of the entrance.

danielle hesitates in her seat, not wanting the night to end either. “hey, just to clarify…”

“yes?”

“did you… was this a date?” 

you melt. “at first i just wanted to hangout with you, but as soon as you got into my car when i picked you up i really wanted it to be. what did you think it was?”

she relaxes into the seat and lets out a sigh of relief. “oh thank god. you were so adorable and cute the whole time and the thought of this just being coworkers– no, friends, hanging out was dreadful.”

“well then, it was definitely a date.”

she hums before silence follows. you two sit there smiling like idiots at each other, the air filled with excitement and adoration.

“i’ll see you at work tomorrow?” danielle says it like it’s a question, but it’s guaranteed unless something deadly catches you by surprise. even then, you’d still make an effort to see danielle.

“yeah. i’ll pick you up too.”

“great,” danielle mumbles. without any warning, she quickly reaches over, placing a hand on the back of your neck and pressing her lips to your cheek. her eyes close, and you freeze in place as she hides herself by pressing her nose into your skin. “i really, really enjoyed everything. i like you so, so much.”

her voice sends a shiver down your spine, and the feeling is heightened when she kisses your cheek again, lingering before she pulls away.

she winks at you before waving. “have a good night, y/n. sleep well.”

your mouth is agape, and you can’t even move. you sit there, watching her walk back to her apartment complex. she looks back once more to wave and smile again. you’re flushed, your heart racing faster than any f1 car. you realize you’re the happiest you’ve been in ages.

–

danielle squeals as she enters the apartment, making minji and hanni – who are playing some card game – jump and yelp themselves.

“what the hell man?” hanni yells.

“oh my god it was a date.”

“well obviously.” minji responds, watching danielle flop onto the couch. “she ran for you just to ask to hangout, i don’t even do that for you guys.”

“maybe because you secretly hate us.”

“hanni shut up you’re no better.”

danielle kicks her feet, smiling like a little kid and sighing dreamily. minji and hanni give each other a glance, then shrug at each other. 

“she took me to this wonderful view and oh my god it was beautiful but not as beautiful as her like oh my god and talking to her is so fun and natural and she’s so sweet and–”

minji cuts her off, noticing the jacket she has on. “is the denim hers?”

“yes.” danielle says smittenly, she’s lovestruck. “and i kissed her cheek just now.”

“oh wooow maybe your flirting can get you places.” 

danielle grabs a pillow and throws it at hanni, making the trio all laugh together. 

–

work is normal the next day—well, for the most part. it's just much more annoying since the two of you can’t be hopelessly in love in front of soobin and all the customers. after all, it’s a professional setting.

you can’t help but steal glances at her whenever you get the chance, especially when she’s taking orders. she’s so sweet and friendly with everyone, and it only makes you fall for her even more. if hyein were here, she’d probably roll her eyes and pretend to gag at how hopelessly in love you are.

danielle catches you staring after she’s finished putting a customers croissant in their bag, smirking at you knowingly. 

“hey, do your job!”

“oh shut up…”

she laughs before grabbing your wrist, dragging you to the door to the back. she looks over to soobin, who’s cleaning the counters, and shouts, “we’ll be back! i need y/n to help reach something for me.”

he shoots a thumbs up before starting to wipe again. danielle leads you back to the storage room giggling, then closes the door to leave you two alone.

“hey, we’re still on the clock.” you warn.

“i know, i know.” danielle starts to wrap her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. “i wanted to do something i didn’t get to last night.”

you clench your jaw. “right.”

“mhm.” she says, staring at your lips. 

you couldn’t resist any longer. with a surge of giddy excitement, you close the distance between you and danielle, eagerly cupping her face in your hands. as your lips meet hers, they are just as soft and inviting as you had imagined, yet the reality surpasses any expectation. 

she pulls away first to mumble against your lips, “you’re lovely.”

“you’re even better.”

danielle closes the distance, you both smile against each other and savor the short amount of time you both have in the storage closet. kissing her is everything, she’s just perfect.

time seems to stand still as you both melt into the kiss, a tender warmth spreading through every inch of your being. it’s as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the sensation of her warmth, the taste of her lips, and the intoxicating feeling of being so close to someone you adore.

when she starts to cup your cheeks, you conclude that maybe mornings aren’t so bad–definitely not if danielle is in the mix.

[juniperskye]

The Set Up.

Sneak peek: based on the following request: Aaron and the reader are secretly married, and the team try to set them up together (obviously not knowing they are married) and they go on their date that the team set up and they enjoy it and the next day they tell the team that they are married. - I changed it a little bit but I hope you like it!

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Fluff

Word count: 1878

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap (kinda?), secret relationship, mentions of canon typical violence, some language, team members meddling. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The team had been immediately aware of the difference in Hotch’s demeanor when you joined the BAU. You had been bright and shiny, straight out of the FBI academy and you’d had an impressive resume. In all seriousness, Hotch had chosen you to join the team prior to reading your name or date of birth. So, when you arrived with that twinkle in your eye and a hunger to make the world a better place, he knew he needed to protect you that for as long as he could.

Dave was the first one to mention the elephant in the room to Hotch. It had been about six months since you had joined the team. He had cornered Hotch at the coffee maker and outright asked him.

“Do you have feelings for her?”

“Dave that is not an appropriate question and this is certainly not the place for it.” Hotch shook his head, walking away.

Of course he had feelings for you, how could he not? You had been sweet and gentle, and you hadn’t let the horrors of the job harden you. Which is exactly why Hotch had asked you on a date two weeks prior, you had been out a few times since then, but Hotch couldn’t let Dave know. What if it didn’t work out? What if it got out and the bureau reprimand you both? What if it got out and you were targeted because of him?

Those are all the reasons he continued to use as an excuse for keeping your relationship under wraps. It’s been two years, and since then the two of you had become serious, moved in, got married, and were now talking about expanding your family…which of course led to a more intensive conversation of telling the bureau and more importantly the team of your relationship.

On the other hand, Penelope had been working endlessly to set you up with an eligible bachelor she knew, and after many failed attempts and a drunken night out with the girls, Emily had outed the crush you had on Hotch. If only they knew. That was the beginning of the schemes – the team was doing everything in their power to set the two of you up.

They had sent you undercover as a couple more than once, constantly partnered the two of you up on cases, made sure to take all the seats on the plane so you’d be forced to sit next to one another, and left you two to share rooms when it was needed on cases. The two of you found it humorous given that you’d already been doing all those things in secrecy.

It had been a pretty quiet day, you all had been catching up on paperwork, when the girls approached you and unbeknownst to you, the guys approached Aaron. That evening while cooking dinner you and Aaron would share nearly identical stories.

They approached me about a blind date. They said that it was scheduled for Friday at 7pm at Fredrich’s. To look for the

Woman in red and that I should wear gray.

Man in gray and that I should wear red.

At that point the two of you looked at one another and laughed. The team had set you up on a blind date with one another. You both agreed to play into the team’s plan and go on the “blind” dates they were setting you up on.

The rest of week went on slowly, but once Friday came around, the girls couldn’t contain their excitement for you. Emily had reassured you that the guy she set you up with was nothing if not a gentleman.

Morgan had made sure to stop by Hotch’s office and remind him of his date.

“Don’t leave this girl hanging man. She’s a great girl.” Morgan scolded.

“I will be there; you have nothing to worry about.” Aaron couldn’t help but smile as he thought of you.

You’d left work at 5:00 on the dot and went straight home to get ready. Aaron left at 6:15 and adjusted his attire, he removed his jacket and tie, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt.

“Hey sweetheart” his hands made their way around your waist “you look incredible.” Aaron placed a desperate kiss on your neck.

“Aaron, we should really be going!” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

You headed to the restaurant, excited to be out on a date, it had been a while since you had been out for dinner together, with work being so busy. When you arrived at Fredrich’s, Aaron pulled up out front and made his way around to your door. After assisting you out of the car, he handed his keys to the valet and led you inside.

As you made your way inside to the hostess stand you looked around the restaurant. Taking in your surroundings you were quick to notice a gentleman sitting alone at a table for two wearing none other than, a gray suit.  As you were waiting for the hostess to seat you, a woman entered the restaurant accidentally bumping your arm.  At the disruption Aaron glanced in your direction and took note of the color of the woman's dress…it was red.

 Aaron and you shared a look, one that was filled with acknowledgment and laced with a little bit of humor.  When the hostess looked up at you, Aaron gestured for the woman to go first she mentioned to the hostess that she was meeting someone, and he was meant to be wearing gray. The hostess nodded and said he got there just a few moments ago and directed the woman to the table with the man in gray, sitting alone.

When she returned you asked for a table for two and were directed to a small booth in the back corner. You couldn't help the scoff that escaped you looking over to Aaron in utter disbelief.

“I can't believe this…”  you shook your head “they have been trying to get us together for months and they set us up on these blind dates, with random people at the same place this doesn't make any sense.” You finished.

“Do you think maybe they thought that if we saw each other out with other people that we'd come to our senses and ask one another out?” Aaron inquired.

“I mean maybe, I guess they thought that we'd either end up with one another because we couldn't stand the thought of each other with someone else or they thought that we'd end up matching well with the people they set us up with. Either way I think it might be time to let them in on our little secret.” You suggested.

“Yeah, I think perhaps you're right.” Aaron agreed.

Throughout the rest of the evening, you and Aaron shared a wonderful dinner and couldn't help but peek over at the couple that was set up by pure accident.  It made you smile at how well they appeared to be hitting it off and if anything could come of this night you were glad it could be new love for two people deserving of it.

When you and Aaron arrived home that evening you decided to discuss how you would break the news to the team that you'd actually been together, married in fact. You knew it would be hard especially with how close you were with them, Penelope would for sure be the most upset, given that you'd have had a wedding that she wasn't invited to.

Monday morning Aaron and you woke up, got dressed (unintentionally coordinating I might add) and for the first time, drove to work together. You walked in the building together hand in hand, with the hope that your team would be accepting.  Unsurprisingly the first person to notice was Morgan, he had been sitting on Emily's desk and looked over as soon as you two entered the room.

You couldn't tell what they were more shocked about as eyes made their way to you. Was it the fact that this is the latest Aaron had arrived to work since he started at the BAU or was it the fact that you were so openly partaking in PDA. Naturally you were bombarded with questions like; how long you have been together, when you got together, what the relationship status was, if Dave has secretly known the whole time, they all were tossed at you with ferocity. But in the middle of all those questions Emily posed a rather important one, 

“If you two are together, what happened on your dates last night and why did you even agree to go on them?”

“Well, we've been together for quite a while and when we went home the other night, we had shared the information of the blind dates you guys were setting us up on and when we both had the story of me wearing red and him wearing Gray we sort of thought you guys were trying to set us up together.” You explained, “So color us surprised when we got to the restaurant at the same time as a woman in red who was looking for a man in gray.”

“Wait, but what about Mary? Hotch I told you not to leave her hanging, she's a good girl and I've known her a long time.” Morgan warned.

“And what about Ethan, he texted me this weekend saying how great the date went?” Emily questioned.

“Well, we let the hostess escort the girl in the red dress to the guy in the gray suit. So, Ethan and Mary went on a date together. While we enjoyed a much-needed date night.” Aaron clarified.

There was chatter amongst the team trying to break down the information they had just received from the two of you. You could tell they were still confused on some of the details, especially that of yours and Aaron's relationship. You looked at Aaron with pleading eyes, which he returned with a curt nod. The two of you thought it best to explain the situation to everyone.

“I guess we should probably explain ourselves. We have been married for about eight months. We have been together for nearly two years. I know that that probably comes as a shock but given everything we've gone through working here we do hope that you'll understand. our secrecy wasn't because we don't trust you, it was simply to keep one another safe as well as avoid any sort of reprimand from the director.” You informed.

You could tell the team was a combination of many emotions seeing them all flash across their faces, emotions like hurt, understanding, shock, but the most surprising was the love and care that ended on all of the faces in front of you. You couldn't be more appreciative of the people standing before you.

The blind date story was one that the team would go on to tell in many ways; to your future children of how they found out their parents were together, in Dave's best man speech at your vow renewal, and in simple jokes in passing. At the end of the day the team couldn't be happier that the two of you got your happy ending. Together.

[imagine-darksiders]

Tired dad Ulthane and his adventures with the Human Distribution System makes me smile so hard

Whoever was on the Darksiders dev team missed a great opportunity to record ambient voice lines between the humans and Ulthane that play whenever you go to the tree.

Some examples off the top of my head.

"Hey. It's... Ulthane, right? I-I'm Mary."

"Pleasure to make yer acquaintance, Lass."

"Ha... Likewise. Um... Listen, I don't think I ever thanked you... for bringing me to this place. And for, you know, saving my life."

[Suddenly bashful] "Ah, no need to thank me. Just... [clears throat] glad I got to you in time..."

"Yeah... Yeah, me too."

------

"Get out of the way, Ulthane."

"Can't do that, younglin'."

"Bullshit. You can't stop me. I have to go, I can't just sit in this tree while he might still be out there somewhere!"

"If I let you leave this tree, you'll die."

"You don't know that!"

"... And what if he turns up while you're gone? Hm? You think he'd want to find you missin'?"

"Don't do that. Don't use him to make me stay. You don't know what he'd want."

"Would he want you riskin' your life tryin' to find him? Or would he want you to be safe?"

".... I... I.... Oh, Sam."

------

"Hey, how did you get on with that list I gave you?"

"Got most of the stuff on it. The pictures were a nice touch, by the way. Made findin' things a wee bit easier."

"Oh! Well... Happy to help.... So. Um..."

[knowing chuckle] "The supplies are with the other rations, up in the hollow."

"Thanks, Ulthane. You're the best."

"Ach, I don't know 'bout that."

"Literally. The. Best."

------

"Hey you! Giant."

"Tiny."

"Oh, very funny. Say, how come you're not out there searching for more survivors?"

"Just got back. Elanya's goin' out in a bit. Someone's gotta stay behind and protect the tree."

"Some of us can stay and watch it! You should be out there looking for people!"

".... We're doin' everything we can, lad."

"I know!... I.... [muffled sob] I know... I just... I miss her."

"... If she's alive out there, we'll find her."

"Yeah.... sure."

-------

"Hey, big guy? You know there's a demon hanging around right outside the door."

"Aye, I'm keepin' an eye on him. But... if you see him causin' any trouble, you come tell me, got it?"

"Heh. Sure."

-----

"Oi, what's that you've got there?"

"Oh! Um... It's... just a radio... I've been tinkering with it... trying to get it to work. Maybe see if there's anyone else out there... Look. I-I know it's silly, but-"

"No, no, it's not, it's... [deep sigh] Listen, if you... need any help with it, makers are pretty handy. Just have to ask, okay?"

"Oh... Okay. Thanks, Ulthane."

-------

"Still no luck with that... wassit called? A radio?"

"Hmm? Oh... Hi Ulthane. No, no luck yet but... that might just be because they're only able to broadcast on a certain frequency for, like, a few minutes at a time right? Saving power or... something? I-I just need to keep searching."

"Well... All right... But don't stay up too late listen' to it again. You look like you didn't catch a wink o' sleep last night."

"Okay, Dad."

-------

"Say, what happened to your radio?"

"... I tossed it."

"Now why'd you do that?"

"I dunno. Figured it'd be more useful to strip it for spare parts.... I wasn't gonna hear anything on there anyway."

"...Y'know, just 'cause you didn't hear anythin', don't mean nobody's out there."

"..... Hey... Ulthane? Do you think we're gonna be okay?"

"Course you're gonna be okay. You've got me at the helm, don't ya? Old Ulthane's got a plan to set you humans back on track... Just have to trust me, eh?"

"We do trust you. And... thanks. I feel better."

"S'what I'm here for."

-------

[If you find 10 survivors]

"Getting a bit busy in here now, isn't it? A lot of new faces."

"Busy? Hmm. If you need me to carve out another chamber for extra space, I can-"

"-No! Ulthane, that's not... It's okay. I wasn't complaining. Busy is good. I prefer busy."

"... Aye, I'm with you there."

-------

[If you find all the survivors]

"I can't believe there's so many of us now! I didn't think this many people would have survived!"

"Mmhm, the Horseman's been busy. S'nice to have a lot of wee ones knockin' about the tree."

"You make us sound like a bunch of children."

[Gentle laugh] "If you knew how old I was, Lad, you'd feel like a bunch of children."

[kifkay]

the Cloud Tower headcanons

out of the three Magix schools, Cloud Tower has the biggest roster of scholarships and waived tuition fees.

witches are oft mischaracterised by the public. because they draw their power from strong, negative emotions, people incorrectly assume that witches must be either miserable, evil and/or drudging through a miserable existence. because of those biases, many talented young people never even pursue a witch’s education.

the Cloud Tower has been historically a very generous institution, hoping to draw in more students and combat those believes. Under Griffin’s leadership, the amount of given out scholarships is as big as ever and is specifically geared towards financially compromised students, or students in bad life situations. 

Every first year student at the Cloud Tower gets to choose a new name for themselves. It’s a ritual meant to symbolise rebirth; a way to let go of the past and embrace your new life.

of course, you’re not required to go by that name after the “initiation” - but that’s the name your coven siblings will remember you by.

in the last couple of decades, the idea of a self-sufficient, all-powerful witch became extremely popular. if before witches came in covens, nowadays, most prefer to do their bidding alone. this is why most Cloud Tower students are more versatile than fairies, but less powerful since they spread themselves thinner to try and learn a bit of everything.

in order to earn their enchantix, a fairy has to make a sacrifice to save a person from their homeland. in order to go through their final transformation, a witch has to prove their relentlessness and determination; willingness to achieve a goal by any means possible, at the expense of oneself.

the requirement for the final transformation is deliberately vague. it can be grandiose and self-destructive - a last stand, you, engulfed in blazing fire, shielding your friends with all that you’ve got - because worlds be damned, your loved ones are your first priorities. or it can be as uncomplicated as standing up to your shitbag father and trashing your old house; that asshole won’t keep you down any longer. all in all, there’s no right way to be a witch.

student spend their first three years of college on campus. their fourth year, the school finds them an internship. future guardian witches are hired by “hero-for-rent” organisations and sent on supervised off-world missions, alchemists and potion-makers are interned in Linphea, teachers are sent off across dimensions. they come back once every semester, to report their progress, and on graduation. similar system in employed in both Alfea and Red Fountain.

some fairies and witches definitely have beef with each other, and stereotyping/hate-mongering is ripe on both sides - BUT. so many of them are dating each other. just so many. you guys have never been in an (almost, there are still guy and non-binary witches/fairies) all girls boarding school if you think those bitches from Alfea and Cloud Tower are anything but gay.

Griffin is in an attrition war with the fairy-dating witches. they keep sneaking their SO’s into the Cloud Tower, who then have to be rescued because the castle is kind off sentient and keeps trying to eat the intruders-

it’s just annoying to be constantly dealing with! so Griffin literally puts anti-fairy charms on the school grounds.

(but then Griffin also has to call an emergency meeting with the entire school and reiterate that she is not actually homophobic - just against trespassers without entrance permits - and to please, stop sending hexes into her office-)

[darkbluekies]

I love modern Edmund sm, I would like to add to it if you don't mind☝️.

I imagine with younger Edmund ( especially if his parents still passed away when he was young) him needing to get married to add more stability to the throne and what not. All of the royals and distant families throwing their children at him and absolutely rejecting all of him. Partly because he doesn't want to be king, and partially because he sees them all as fake social climbers.

In my mind darling was originally engaged or courting his cousin just like in the normal Edmund fics. Of course Edmund would want the one person who wasn't available, his first scandal would be breaking his cousin and darling up. I also think darling would be a lower member of the royal family, like just barely a part of the royal family and darlings engagement to Edmunds cousin was going to raise their family up in society. That's why I think darlings family would play a part in keeping darling trapped with Edmund. Imagine your daughter goes from a future duchess to a queen in a few short months. There's no way they're gonna let anyone get in the way of that.

In a modern world Edmund has to be smarter. He can't just throw his darling in the dungeon, or murder a whole ballroom. He has to learn to be more cunning, and emotionally manipulative to keep his darling in check.

I also wanted to add to modern Edmund he would hateeeee having cameras around. He hates that everything has to be shared with the public. Especially when Ludwig and Victoria were born. He's worried about his wife, and there are just hundreds of thousands of people waiting to see them. Reporters ready with questions, photographers snapping pictures. He gets very possessive and protective especially when there are cameras.

In the modern world there are more expectations for royals especially a king and his family. More humanitarian works which Edmund hates but his darling loves. He hates having to travel to see different traditions, and meet different people. He wants to stay home with his wife. His darling definitely becomes "the people's princess" which is a name he hates. His darling isn't the people's princess, their HIS QUEEN. He will straight up burn magazines that call his darling that nickname. Darling would try to teach their children to enjoy volunteer work but Ludwig admires his dad too much. Anything Edmund doesn't like, Ludwig doesn't like. Victoria loves being a princess. She loves the attention, she loves meeting new people and being fawned over. She waves to people and is always stopping to talk to people no matter their status. It upsets Edmund but darling loves it.

OH Edmund with a "less powerful darling" would be SO dangerous for him. But also in his favour—"you don't want me to tell your parents you're being defiant, would you?" Because he KNOWS that darlings parents will take his side. I think that's how he would navigate the modern world, making her fully feel stuck in the position. But you're right, he'd be sooo possessive over her, always a hand on her when they're outside, standing before her to make sure paparazzis can't catch her. It's become a second nature, he can tell where the cameras are without even looking.

Genuinly, I think he'd have a phobia for cameras. He's a private person and having to share himself and his WIFE to everyone else feels so intruding for him. He'd hate if the public loved darling but if they hated her that would put them in danger.

Oh Victoria my darling (Fuck off Ludwig) 🥹 she LOVES the attention, LOVES to be in the spotlight. Despite her father and brother, Victoria loves ALL attention and will do everything to keep in it. She'll talk to people, hug them, do charity events, etc because oh how she loves it.

Ludwig would be the trouble maker that everyone covers up because he's the heir. However, this world would understand Ludwig better. He'd feel better in this world. There are people taking mental health serious here.

Always open to talk about modern Edmund 🫣

[avifaunaa]

i tasted ash and knew [ it was you ] [ r.v. ] [ p.3 ]

Authors Note: Well, shit. Glad to see this garnered some attention and that you guys liked it 🫡 as per usual please keep an eye on the content warnings and take care of yourselves.

Some more useless history facts nobody wanted:

• Remedies for illnesses in the fifties were a mixture of at-home and rising industry cure-alls. Many people used sponge baths for fevers and hot water bottles for aches while taking their Asprin. It was an awkward middle ground of well-known techniques and modern medicine.

• Nail care was also becoming more popular in the fifties, as with everything in society now that a war was not a concern. In 1954 a dentist was the creator of the first fake / artificial nail since he was tired of his own nails breaking lmao. Most women took care of their own nails and painted them with practice, for the most part. Women also started reshaping their nails in the process of the upkeep!

• The fairs we know today and see as a sort of larger aspect of a season were a lot more deeply involved in the local communities back in the day. Fairs were used to bring many — or just one — communities together and often made a show of selling local goods by those who lived within the county it was held in. It had a large focus on the region’s agricultural culture as well and it wasn’t uncommon to see livestock at these events. This is how some fairs ended up being hosts to many beloved country events that go on today, like rodeos. The classic carnival rides we love were still used even then — but mostly had limited options that included Ferris wheels, bumper cars, the whip, and some games that may or may not still be found in today’s fairs!

• Cotton Candy was invented in 1897 by a dentist and a candy maker. There’s a joke in there somewhere.

• Funnel cake was brought over to the States by the Dutch as drechderkuche around 1879 and they themselves had gotten it after the dish spread in popularity across Europe after initially being dated back all the way to the medival worlds of the Persians known as zalabiyeh. Only in 1947 did it make a grand entrance to the carnival and fair life as a snack of wonder!

Masterlist

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rio’s really done it now. She’s created a monster of herself and broken her most important rule and revealed her lies to you in doing so: her inability to create life. Allegedly. Death becomes your dueling partner as all you can do is grapple for some semblance of control between her moments of appearance as she works double time to keep you — and now whatever she thinks grows inside of you — alive.

Content Warnings: Dark, so expect the usual — internalized homophobia and gender norm expectations in flashbacks, panic attacks, self-harm [ not graphic but it’s there ], angst, forced impregnation, misuse of magic [ Rio, always Rio ], manipulation, obsessive behavior, threats of violence [ R —> Rio ], Stockholm Syndrome taking effect, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES

Word Count: ~5.2k

2024

You awoke with the curtains pulled open and the sun glaring across your face which really only added to the pounding in the front of your skull that welcomed you back to the world of the living.

Gods — it wasn’t just your head that pounded. Your entire body felt like a dump truck came through the house and just meandered over your unconscious body and left behind whatever was left of you.

The pain alone was almost enough to convince you to go back to sleep, to try and escape it longer and what you knew it would mean by getting up.

Because you remembered last night — down to what Rio had whispered to you with deadly promise and such conviction that it still was too much for you to think about right now.

You should have known better trying to kill Rio. You were smarter than that, most days. You knew to some extent how powerful she was and that you had no true capability to so much as give her a paper cut if she didn’t allow it.

You drew your arm from under you and rested your forehead against it, still facedown against the pillows and refusing to move from your position. That would be . . . It would be admitting a lot of things to yourself, never mind Rio.

The wetness on your skin is how you found out you were crying. Quiet tears, falling directly onto your arm before your brain could catch up with the severity of your emotions.

You dug your teeth into the skin of your arm to silence any noise that would dare try to leave your chest. These tears would have to come and go without trace, and this would be your only acknowledgment that they were ever there at all.

Your body shook only slightly as you willed your crying to end and just let the anguish and loneliness be your friends for this single moment before you had to return to this endless game of brutality with Rio.

When you could cry no more and you were sure you could breath without shuddering, you pulled your teeth from your arm and assessed the damage.

You had dug in deep enough to bruise — it was already turning red and had left deep tracks, unforgiving in the proof of your inability to hold your emotions in.

You wipes the wetness from your arm and did not wince when a throb from touching the mark was returned. It was a small price to pay, and it would be a good grounding-point to slip out of bed.

At least your emotions were back to normal. . . They were regulating now.

That’s what you told yourself as you sat at the edge of the bed and stared at the plants on the shelves across from you on the wall.

The ache between your legs that matches the one deep in your chest beyond flesh and bone were ones that you knew well — from your previous marriage and then with Rio. Both with positive and negative connotations attached — at first.

Now you weren’t sure there was anything left to recover from those feelings. Not when you could reach up to your neck and practically touch the hum of magic that kept you tethered to her.

You flexed your fingers and dug them into the mattress as you tried to even your breaths again. The tears were long gone, but the breathing —

She took, took, and took and never once thought that she was taking. She only cared what it did for her and how it made her happy, to appease her immortality? The despair it brought with her to be alone so long?

You hated that it was you.

You used to love that it was you.

But the thing with Rio is that her affections are animalistic and not grounded in how it will hurt everyone else. You realized that when she collared you the first time and you had to escape under the cover of night and get the magic removed quietly and quickly.

She is selfless in her selfishness and that is her most dangerous attribute. A patient hunter who knows the game after a long time playing it.

“Mow.”

Billy was sitting in front of you, just inches away with intense eyes and his fluffy tail curled at his paws. He seemed almost curious.

You unclenched your fingers from the sheets and reached out, offering a hand passively.

He blinked at you, owlish, then stood and rubbed his head against the stretched hand and down your arm. Loud purrs soon filled the quiet surroundings and his tail vibrated as he chirped at you.

“Are you hungry?” you asked him, watching his flank ripple as your fingers ran through it. Your mind was quickly able to release despairing thoughts and the pit that sought to drag you deep.

A loud mrow was your response and you took that as an initiative to stand and find something comfortable to wear and pointedly ignore the pain left behind by Rio and ignore the fact that it was as though she was never there at all.

1954

You hid upstairs long after Rio had returned from her job. You folded laundry and ironed some, then refolded others again. When that was done and you couldn’t really make an excuse to just constantly fold laundry repeatedly, you locked yourself in the bathroom you had been using and decided to “organize”.

You had heard her inquiring calls from downstairs and had chosen to ignore them in hopes she would . . . Well, you weren’t entirely sure. Your mother’s news had been unsettling and left a sour taste in your mouth.

Why did you have so many lipsticks, now? You had five in your palm and three on the ground where you sat on your knees. They were in varying shades of reds and pinks and relatively new — all from Rio. She sometimes liked to bring you gifts from the store.

Did you really care how many you had? Did it matter?

Your mother said Rio was never married — no records of it were recorded in the archives, no official obituary to be found under the name Vidal. You supposed she could have returned to using her maiden name . . . But —

“Angel?” A rap to the door shook you out of your thoughts and the lipsticks clattered to the floor.

“Shoot,” you murmured and began to scoop all of them up hastily, “h-hang on, Rio. I’ll be just a moment.”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart, really. I was just concerned when you didn’t come to see me when I got home.”

You stacked everything back into place and lifted the container before setting it back into the medicine cabinet-mirror duo and shutting it. Your reflection startled you.

You had regained some flush to your cheeks and a light to your eyes after the death of your husband — even you could see it without it being pointed out. Nobody did, though. It would’ve meant implying something — something that was never meant to be discussed in the open.

But even as you stared at yourself you could hardly believe the difference that you found in your reflection.

“. . . Sweetheart?” Rio prodded from behind the door, tone gentle but more firm.

“I’m sorry, Rio.” You pushed off the sink and unlocked the door, swinging it open and smiling at her. “I haven’t been myself today. I think I’m just a little under the weather.”

She softens and steps closer to you, eyes roaming over you. The inspection felt intimate and you shelved the way it made you feel and reminded yourself that those feelings aren’t natural . . . And you were just a mess in general.

She seemed to be satisfied with whatever she found and leaned against the doorway. “You should’ve called me. Maybe I could’ve brought something home — heated lemonade is all the rage for colds right now.” She rubbed her hands together.

You smiled meekly. “That’s sweet, thank you, but it really only started when — oh, perhaps after I left lunch with Mother.”

She tilted her head, a black strand of hair floating from her updo. “Oh I remember you telling me you were meeting up with her. I’m glad you did — it was a beautiful day.”

You looked away from her and fiddled with your fingernails. Once nervously bitten and torn, now kept well-managed under Rio’s careful eye and money as she ordered you to a woman in town who knew how to do them from her home. You brought your own polish, but she did well with keeping them intact for you.

“It was a good lunch,” you answered carefully. “She — my mother has my best interests at heart.”

“Of course she does,” Rio agreed easily, pushing off the doorway and considering you with that gentle look of hers. “Did something . . . Did you two talk about something difficult?”

You didn’t immediately answer because you weren’t sure you wanted to go down this road with the other woman, in truth. She had been so helpful and the shame that filled you for feeling so useless and meek coiled tight inside of you.

But somehow you found yourself telling her anyway, without considering how you wanted to word it, “We talked about . . . My husband. Settling his affairs, mostly. Making sure I won’t see trouble down the road.”

Rio relaxed slightly as she eyed you. “That’s good, isn’t it? I wouldn’t have been so distressed during that period if I’d had my mother to help me.” She smiled a little, her silent support.

But if your mother was right in that Rio never had a husband — much less a husband that died in the war — then why would she be going through all of this trouble? How did she manage to make you feel so less alone in the agony you’ve been clawing your way out of?

“She’s been wonderful,” you say to her, reaching up to fidget with an earring. Her eyes followed the movement with hawk-like observance.

“Anything else that seems to be on your mind, angel?” Her head tilted slightly, curious and full of wonder. Like she was having a hard time getting a read on you — and maybe she was. Your moods weren’t subject to change so often and this one in particular was rare after moving with her.

“No, no just that.” You released the earring and smiled at her fully, returning to the present to be with Rio fully. “I’m sorry I wasn’t downstairs to greet you. I just got so caught up in finishing some things up here. I have so much lipstick, Rio . . .”

Her gaze drifted to the cabinet thoughtfully then slipped back to you. “Put some on — and dress somewhat warm,” she finally told you, unstrapping the straps that hooked over her shoulders to her pants. “Something pretty for me.”

Your cheeks heated even as you frowned at her. “What ever for? It’s such a waste to use when we’re not going anywhere.”

Rio chuckled. “Angel, we are going somewhere. The fair’s in town, remember? You’ve been eyeing the newspaper article on it all week.”

You brightened considerably in front of her, darting forward to grasp her arm. “Really? We’re going to the fair? You’re sure?”

The black-haired woman grinned down at you, tilting your chin up with a finger, “Very sure — if you can get ready before the field fills up on parking.”

You nodded rapidly and pulled back, filled with a sudden renewed vigor. “Oh I have the perfect scarf I’ve been waiting to match with that pair of pants you got me. The ones with red stripes.”

“You’ll look beautiful, I’m sure.” Rio winked at you and you made a point to ignore the weird fluttery feeling that crossed your chest at the action.

You’d felt that once — an old boyfriend who kissed you under the stars on top of his brand new Chevrolet before he returned you home and made sure to leave some of those stars in your eyes.

You’d married that boy once upon a time, and it ended up nearly destroying you later.

Rio left you to get changed and you busied yourself with finding the perfect outfit for such an outing. It was chilly outside during the day and so you expected it to be even more so overnight. It wouldn’t be wise to go out without layers, even if you planned on some festive rides to warm you up.

Oh and you so hoped they had spiced apple cider that they kept warmed at the stalls like they’ve been doing in the recent years. The drink was dangerously addictive and you indulged in the past when your husband inclined to go with you to the fairs. It always left a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest after having a cup.

You were just pinching the scarf carefully into position when Rio reappeared. She hadn’t changed completely from her work attire, but she did cozy up. She made no move to disguise roaming eyes.

“Hmm I worry for the wandering gazes I may have to hide you from tonight,” she muses lazily.

You despised the way she managed to made you feel things a woman should never feel from another of her gender — despised that you were drawn to the way she somehow carried herself like she owned the world and could protect you from its’ angry realties. Despised the way she wasn’t a man and therefor kissing her is not allowed, not desired.

You despised how you were forced to feel the disgust in your stomach at how heavy with want it left you when you saw her and found what you could never give your husband.

“Perhaps I will be able to catch the eye of a wealthy man,” you got out, refusing to meet her eyes and instead finding your own in the mirror. “And you will surely catch the finest of attentions. You could have anyone you wanted and not blink before it was in your hands.”

Rio hummed at you. The footsteps on the flooring creaked until she was still behind you, chin just brushing over your shoulder as her eyes forced yours to meet together in the mirror. You were trapped between her and the sink, unable to escaped unless she willed it.

Or maybe you just made no effort to try.

“You speak as though I yearn for another man to warm my bed,” the black-haired woman crooned lowly, ruby red lips twisting upwards mockingly, “to handle my finances and give me the world.”

“Surely every woman wants that — wouldn’t you get tired of working?” you asked her boldly despite the tremble that threatened to shake you down. She was so close and you feared she would hear your heart’s cries if she got any further.

“Angel,” she started, the same tone, eyes becoming mischievous and glittering under the light above, “why would I seek out that which I want from a man when I can just get it myself?”

Your throat constricted and for a moment there was a terrible feeling you were a prey to a dangerous, deadly predator.

Rio. This was Rio — your only friend, the woman who shielded you when you nearly crumbled under the weight of the world when you realized what being a woman without a husband meant.

“I just — Rio?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you have any pictures of him?” you asked as you fought off the urge to sink into her from where you held onto the surface like a lifeline. “Your . . . Your husband. You’ve not told me his name, and you don’t even have photos of him.”

Her fingers reached up to capture a stray wisp of your hair that had fallen from the position you’d had it in. She held it delicately and observed it, wrapping it around her pale finger.

“Rio?”

She tugged suddenly and it left a minor sting when she did. Then she released it, tucking it behind your ear with a gentleness opposite of the previous action.

“His name and face live in the past and I seek to march into the future,” she finally told you, however no warmth remained in her voice. Only clear, concrete assurance. “Having either in my present keeps me from which I aim to go, so I decided a while ago to put him to rest for good.”

She moved away from you in order to give you some space and tucked a hand into one of her pockets. “Don’t take too long, Angel. I want to ride the Ferris Wheel with you while the stars are bright.”

She was gone and now alone, you tried to process what she laid before you but found that nothing was answered when you asked her those questions.

2024

You peeled open a can of wet food and scraped it into the fancy cat bowl Rio had conjured up. The little shit had dry food still full, but seemed to think he needed the good stuff two times a day.

Leaving him to scarf down his breakfast, you opened the French doors in the dining room. The dining room which, by looks of it, had been meticulously put back together as though you and Rio hadn’t tried to rip one another to shreds.

You weren’t entirely positive you could claim much of the damage anymore, though, looking back. You had the human ability to shove, break, and throw but Rio was above that in ways that made your predator senses switch into the brain of prey. It made you think of a time you saw a program — a lynx playing with its prey right before it decided to kill it.

Rio had been playing with you — perhaps leaking some frustration without realizing it. But you were stupid to believe that you could have the upper hand in any regard.

Your hand drifted up to your neck and rested there as the hum from the magic collar vibrates against your fingers, a warning that you were touching the invisible but powerful mechanism that kept you caged to this place. To her.

The bird feeders outside caught your attention from the open doors. Ten birds of varying colors, chirping happily and fluttering about as they picked their way around the feeders you filled the day before.

Was this to be your life now?

What did Rio intend to tell you about the status of your job? It wasn’t . . . It wasn’t like you adored it but it kept you busy, you sort of enjoyed it on some days.

A huff greeted you to your right.

Your eyes drifted to the source of the sound and knew it wasn’t Billy — who felt he was too sophisticated for such a noise and was still tinkering about in the kitchen with his bow and bell collar.

No — no, this was not him.

Instead a new object has been tucked into the corner of the dining room. A large, fluffy dog bed of a soft brown coloring and cream innards.

The source of the sound was the sleek looking canine laying there, head on paws and eyes watching you closely.

“A dog,” you said aloud as the two of you stared at each other. He was a light brown with black markings on his long legs and face. Pointed ears and a thin, long tail.

You’ve seen these dogs before — you knew they were used mostly in the military and police force. Similar to the German Shepard but smaller and leaner.

She got you a fucking protection dog — and she did it to taunt you. Because she knows not even the most trained, intelligent dog will be able to keep her from.

“Okay.” You got to your knees and the sun soaked into your body from doorway. The dog watched you. You watched him. He already had a thick leather collar with tags on it and it made you wonder if, like you and possibly Billy, she took him too. “Who are you?”

He didn’t respond, of course.

You got back to your feet and hesitantly made your way over. He lifted his head to watch you until you bent down next to him and carefully scratched behind his ears. He seemed to like it, and so you flipped his tag to read his name. TOMMY was stamped into the gold metal.

“She did you an injustice with that name,” you told Tommy, but kept petting him anyways. He sighed.

You eventually left Tommy alone to nap and went out to sit in the garden, your heart heavier now. The way she used things as a way to mock you was like an extra knife digging deeper and deeper each time she added a new aspect.

You sit for a while then make some coffee and down some plain toast to fight the nausea. You hated how lonely the house you were caged to felt but refused to break and call out for Rio to end the feeling.

You would bear it rather than face her and yourself and the night before. It was all too much and it would explode eventually, with angry sobs and violence like it always did.

But until she forced you out of your self-induced exile of silence and singularity, you would pretend like you’ve handled it and it’s over.

Even if it would never be over.

Rio heard naught when she returned from her duties that night. The lights were on but there was a lack of cooking to be found. None of the smells that brought her a great deal of comfort when you were behind the stove, no warm smile to greet her, and certainly no kiss to the cheek or anywhere else.

“Angel?” she called out, but was only greeted by the dark and watchful eyes in the kitchen’s entryway by the animal she had bestowed upon you before leaving that morning.

He stood stock still and regarded her with a type of cunning that almost made her wonder if she should’ve gone with a dumber breed to avoid issue. His hackles were raised down his spine and a low, vibrating growl was echoing through his chest.

Rio simply stared back at him. “I brought you into this house, creature,” she told him, continuing closer. “Angel please call off the dog.”

“No.”

Ah, so you were just feet away as suspected. A small grin pulled at the corners of Rio’s lips as she came to a stop just inches from the stiff dog. His tail was as rigged as the rest of him — and though Rio didn’t know dog language relatively well, she knew the universal language for “I do not fucking like you.”

“I don’t want to have to take him away after giving him to you so soon, my sweet,” Rio started sweetly, fingers reaching out to the curled lips of Tommy. Her tone hardened, “But I will if you can’t keep him in line.”

There wasn’t a reaction given to her in the first few seconds after she spoke, and the dog had become more hostile in those seconds. Rio was ready to snap him into another room and use that fear when she heard a soft, call.

“Tommy, come.”

Like a flipped switch and without any effort the dog seemed to rear away from Rio as quickly as he had been ready to try and maul the witch. He trotted back into the kitchen and so the pale figure followed.

He curled at your feet where you were rewarding him with slices of raw meat mixed in a metal bowl, prepped ones seemingly laid out for burgers ready to be grilled at any point.

Tommy took the offered pieces carefully from your fingers as you locked gazes with Rio.

“I see you two have bonded once you’ve made your introductions,” Rio concurred as she opened the refrigerator and looked through the contents. All of the bear she had to magic back in was once again gone.

Rebellious, angry little thing you were. It didn’t matter. She waved her hand and a cold beer appeared between her fingers instantly.

“Is there never consequences for what you do with that? you asked her quietly from across the room.

“Mm.” She slowly makes her way over to you, a twinkle of something dark and insidious covering her features. “There’s a consequence in everything of this universe, Angel. If you tie your shoes the wrong way, it can have a massive impact on someone else in another world.”

“Then why the fuck do you be so careless? I never asked — not before when I thought I could love you. But now that I know there’s always a price to the things we do . . . Why?”

The anger, the rage she fell so deeply for — she felt the fire in her chest when she saw a flicker of it again. “Because I can,” she told you simply, lifting the bottle to her lips. “I can, so I did. I have the opportunity and why would I leave it untouched?”

Your hands slammed on the table. “Because it means for every day I get to live someone else dies early!”

Rio rolled her eyes. “Is that what this is about? How long do you plan on mourning over the ones you never know about that take your place? They’re nameless to you and can’t bring the guilt that bears your name.”

“Because it’s my life, Rio,” you bit out. She looked closer and realized you had been crying, “and my ticket was punched a very long time ago but for some reason you won’t take it. You refuse my entry every damn time, and then you play with magic and ignore that it has its own prices and can—“ you suddenly pressed fingers to the bridge of your nose and breathed out shallowly.

Rio removed the rim of the glass from her lips, taking care to observe your actions. You stood without saying a word, eyes closed, as you experienced whatever it is went through your body while Rio simply watched.

And smiled.

1954

The music and the lights were overwhelming in the best of ways. There was so much joy to be found and the giggles of children darting through the crowds covered in cotton candy and fisting sacks of what you assumed to be allowances to go and play games.

You kept a polite distance from Rio despite the pestering urge to hold her hand and lean into her for warmth during the cold night.

You wished you could be a couple — but it simply wasn’t possible. So you maintained your space and pointed out stalls to stop at as she kept an unmoving look of amusement on her face.

You were elbow-deep in overly powdered dish that you’ve never tried — colorfully labelled the Funnel Cake — and you found that it was almost on par with your apple cider drinks you adored so. Rio seemed fascinated with it as well and the two of you shared the one you bought.

You did find the cider you so sought and made Rio get one too, even after she complained of having a full stomach.

“It’s rather good, Rio,” you begged as the two of you stood in line. “If you don’t like it, I’ll just drink your share.”

She arched one perfectly sculpted brow at you as a smile rose to greet you. “Oh, you will will you?” she asked.

The shine in your eyes must have been answer enough, because she ordered two of the drinks but ended up finishing half of it.

She seemed to enjoy it, but relinquished it to you on the claims that she couldn’t possibly fill her stomach any longer.

“More for me,” you commented like you’d gotten away with stealing something valuable. Rio barked out a laugh as her arm brushed against yours.

It was entirely too true that right now, you had no cares about how close she was. You were having fun with her and she with you as you talked and drank cider.

She won a little bottle game that was 50¢ a turn and she didn’t have to spend another quarter in order to fetch you a duck you had pointed out.

“How did you do that so well?” you asked her, beaming as you held the stuffed toy like gold. “I’ve seen children run screaming from their parents once they emptied their pockets.”

Rio tapped her temple. “All in the head, Angel. I wanted to win, so I won.”

“If only it were that easy!”

She simply smiled those red lips at you and pulled you toward the Ferris Wheel. The stars had become as bright as they could be while the fair was open and she wasted no time in deciding on what she wanted to finish it off with.

“Do you fear heights?” she asked you as she waited with two quarters in hand, back of the line.

“No,” you said, and you liked to think you were right in your belief. “No, I don’t think so. Not if I feel like there’s not a reason to be afraid of them.”

If you hadn’t been so focused on the way the wheel was spinning with its flashing lights, you might have been able to catch how Rio seemed to think over your words. But as quickly as the line went, so did your conversations and laughter.

The teenager in a red and white striped shirt waited expectantly at the till as Rio uncapped her hand over his to drop the two coins into his palm.

He led you both through the gate blocking access to the ride and waited for the Wheel to stop until a car came down and emptied the contents of its seats. Then he hastily ushered you in and pulled down the security bar.

“Hands and feet inside, no wiggling around,” he said with a sigh. “Enjoy the ride.”

Rio was startlingly quiet on the way up as she and you both took in the view. It was truly breathtaking -- and you could both see Westview in all it's small twinkly lights the higher up you rose.

Rio nudged you with her wrist. "I can see the house."

"You cannot," you scoffed at her, leaning into her to try and get the same view as she was.

Before you realized what was happening, an arm was being wrapped around your shoulders and you were being tugged close.

"Rio." You tried to tug away from her, a small swell of panic rising as you glanced around. You were close to reaching the top of the ride and the closest to the stars you would ever be for the first time. "Rio, the people above us can see."

"They can't," the older woman murmured as she bent her neck down to look at you, squeezing your hip reassuringly. "I wouldn't let them. It is just us."

"The people below . . ." you glanced down, wondering if the other cars would be able to see and hear you.

"Stop." She lifted your face to yours and gave you the softest of expressions. "Hey. It's okay."

And then she leaned down to kiss you.

Rio and Reader will return in Part 4

PART FOUR

[ivys-garden]

Life Series Recap Finale.

The end has came and went. All Wild cards are spent. Who lived, who died? Brace yourself, its a wild ride.

Bigb

And so the first falls.

First, Bigb says goodbye to himself. Or more accurately, his giant face in the woods. He then meets up with his team, saying how proud he is that they stayed together. For a team who didn't trust him they work very well together and trust each other very much, white Pearl giving Bigb her chest plate to help him survive just a bit longer.

Bigb and his Bestie, Ren, are chosen to be the distraction force so the team can go and put Creakings in the Bammers base. Unfortunately this plan didn't work and so the Team has to wander around and try to find a new plan. During this time Bigb charms his way into Ethos heart and gets some of his old gear too.

He then tries to kill him with a mace. Ethos is a good sport about it though.

But, as they both are distracted by their trivia bots, neither is looking at Bigbshell and it is able to seek up on his human and kill him.

A shame too, he was one of my roots.

14 remain.

Scar

He did it. He built his roller coaster. Sure it took the death of both a dog and a skizz, but he did it. And with a really sick design as well! He was able to launch people F A R with this thing, and the people who rode it really ilenjoyed it, even if bdubs almost died to it unintentionally.

That's not to say it wasn't a coaster of death though, he did try to kill Joel with it, but unfortunately this did not pan out. In fact none of Scars Murder attempts panned out, with both a raid at the Cake Tower and a plan to murder Etho falling through, once due to wild card and once due to Scar being too nice a guy.

But, unfortunately, as Scar is doing a bot, eSCARgo is able to seek up and obliterate him. The coaster lays dormant for the remainder of the session.

13 remain.

Lizzie

Throughout this session Lizzie continues her role as the dastardly planner of the bammers, both in planning how to keep her team safe and how to kill the others.

She plans to use small size to avoid others, acts as snail duty for Jimmy and Scar and Was the one to help Scar finally finish the roller coaster, even losing out a zombified Skizz to be a glorified crash test dummy.

Oh yeah, Lizzie became a lich! Getting a Zombified Martyn, Skizz and…. Huh, guess the Watchers got to that one early. Anyway, she orders Martyn to bring her husband and gem to the mountain so she can blow them up with a newly built trap, unfortunately this doesn't work and the Wild card fades before her Lich-jesty can do anything more with her goons.

Aside from the Zombie shenanigans, Lizzie also plants a trap under the main bridge in the form of a Pufferfish. While her she uses her new shapeshifter powers, which were previously only used to mock Jimmy, to copy Scott's DNA. They then do what anyone would and start messing with people. Lizzie is able to convince Scott to let HER go on Scars rollercoaster so he can brag he's been on it for “marketing “...I think lizzie just wanted to go on the rollercoaster… shame since Scar had already converted it to a murder coaster at this point and she couldn't ride.

And then Scar died. Distraught and Robotizised she calls Jimmy back to the Bam-Bunker…. And then in an instant, Everything is gone.

12 remain.

Jimmy

He made it. He made it to the end. To the finale.

Naturally this makes him a lot more paranoid for both himself and his team. He's way more perspective, picking up on Scott's plan before he even executes it. And of course catching them and grian actively trying to kill them.

That isn't to sat he doesn't fall for traps, he almost kills himself accidentally by opening a trap chest gem made. Ironic with how close the bammers have been with the family, with joel saving Jim from a ravenger and giving him a diamond just this session.

But when Lizzie calls him back to The Bambunker, he responds immediately. But little could they know this sealed there fates. Grian, the maker of destiny, called to Jimmy at this moment, saying how “it was always gonna end this way” before Jimmy finally died. Try to find a more Watcher coded moment I dare you.

Also can we just appreciate how good the Bamboozelers were? One of the loyalist, most successful, well prepared and well planned teams we ever had. Genuinely great job, but still they are first out.

11 remain. So close, fly high next time, great Phoenix.

Impulse

Oh no, impulse.

The Gals weren't too happy that Impulse completely wiffed his Totem, apparently as a result of bad foot coordination and playing Minecraft with footpedels. I'd you ever need a reason to not play Minecraft with footpedels, there you have it. Yknow, apart from that being completely Wack.

Oh but that's not Impulses only failure, as he also revealed that he messed up his pitfall trap. After this humiliation and constant ribbing from his team, Impulse is kind to do some killing. He takes Cleo and Ren to raid the old base, gets ridden by Scott, and makes plans to finally kill Gem & Joel.

His first plan comes when Gem is distracted by Pearl being pathetic in front of her and boils down to just slapping Gem with a sword while Invisible. He thankfully backs off when Gem actually offers to fight back. He instead tries some trivia and almost dies to bees. He then rides Scars rollercoaster to calm down and OH FUCK THE BEES ARE BACK RUN AWAY

OK OK, Impulse has a new plan. Using the stupid amount of pearls he got from last episode he gets onto Gem's old shitty watch tower and builds a super TNT launcher. But, he doesn't watch his six and so iSnail is able to sneak up on him.

Impulse is desperate. Thirsty for blood. And so when he gets the Zombie power, he sticks most of the server on Joel, even joining the fray himself.

But in the chaos, etho gets confused, places just one Creeper and away went Impulse.

Maybe aggression won't win the season this time.

10 remain.

Scott

Scott dying before Joel? It's a Christmas miracle! Wait Scott is being really aggressive as well, we sure this is the same guy?

Scott starts the episode celebrating that his desire to spite us was actually able to keep the team together despite all odds and he reaffirms everyone's complete devotion to each other. Before immediately formulating a murder plot. The Gals go to the Bammers base to spawn every creaking they can, but are spotted very quickly. But if these results one thing scott is, its persistent, so He and Pearl go for round two. But anything scott is is easily distracted, so he ends up using his powers to become.murdr twinsies with pearl and just sit around in a whole as she astrals.

When they realise this plan is kinda stupid they decide to get Gem and Joel with it instead and are immediately discovered. Damn. But they go again next time there away and manage to plant all the hearts

… it took Gem like a minute to dig them all out.

Speaking of easily distracted scott also forgets who he's targeting repeatedly and just goes off to dick around. Doing stuff like riding an invisible Impulse or threatening Scar with a bamming of the mountain

But when Scott gets focused again he does so in a big way, being the only one to be able to go toe to toe with Joel during the massive manhunt for him. And as Scott has him cornered, he strikes Joel down.

Only for etho to academically shoot him.in the neck goddammit etho, again?

Hey at least Scott got to feel what it was like for Joel every season.

9 remain.

Gem

Gem counts to be paradoxically paranoid & bloodthirsty and.eager to befriend anyone who tries to kill her. She starts the session by trapping her own base with trapped chests, historically trapping your own base has been a crazy idea but it actually works very well here, nearly getting bdubs and Jimmy.

Joel then convuces Gem to come congratulate Jimmy on surviving. Resulting in them both reluctantly giving Scar and Jimmy diamonds as a reward. Then Lizzie turns around and sends a zombified martyn to lure them into a trap. Apparently there were no hard feelings about this though as Gem continues to be besties with lizzie literal seconds after she tried to atomise her.

Speaking of befriending your enemies, it's what you all been waiting for, the conclusion to the ongoing jewel box drama….

Gem runs around in a circle calling pearl Pathetic and cute as she tries and repeatedly fails to mace her in the face

Yep. That's how the drama ends. Honesty makes a lot of sense with the series as a whole, we might say that things are dramatic or Angsty or edgy or other words, but in reality everything is stupid and doesn't make any sense, so just have some fun and try to kill your friends!

But eventually Gem would have to die. When talking to etho about how great they all were, Etho just straight up blew her up. Like etho killed her, objectively and intentionally. Her family killed her. Needless to say she wasn't too chuffed about that, or the fact that he joined in when everyone started their manhunt for Joel.

But hey, now shes gotten rid of one unstable alliance and can get a new unstable alliance with Pearl! Yippie! Yeah pearl and gem TRY to become murder besties, despite the repeated interruptions of Joel and Cleo trying to kill one of them.

But, the worst interaction comes as a result of the world itself, as every wildcard becomes active. All at once…. Except hunger.

Either way the result is the same, in the chaos Gem experiences death via…. Vex. Really?

But hey, she died as she lived: not being killed by Pearl.

8 remain.

Etho

What did this little weasel get up to? Well he starts by gearing up his tuff guys with arrows and sending them off to go stealing things before meeting up with Cleo to see if the Gals need him to do anything. Using the arrows he had, bdubs stole and he got from cleo he Carstens a plan to Crossbow span anyone who comes near him. He also builds several traps underground he can activate with wind charges.

Now, Gem & Joel already distrust him now and he hasn't given The Gs ant reason to trust him and he isn't doing himself any favours as immediately after finding out scar rigged his roller coaster to kill people, he tries to get Joel to go on it. Later, when he gets the Zombie power he tries to get Skizz to blow up the car again and gets martyn to go after Scott for punching him off Bam mountain. When this fails, he instead tells them to try and kill Impulse for actually no reason.

Speaking of killing people for no reason, he blows Gem up when she's talking about how good a team they are. And then tries to gaslight Joel into thinking it wasn't intentional. Luckily Ethostropod gives him insta karma.

He then joins in the massive hunt to kill Joel. Using the strategies of Crossbow pelting and Creeper spam, one of which is countered by a Lava bucket and the other of which kills Impulse. He then continues trying to kill Joel and accidentally shoots Scott in the face.

Naturally, no one but his tuff guys are willing to trust him. And as Pearl, Cleo and Ren storm the Tuff Towers, Bdubs and Tango fall back. Etho, paranoid, believes that he's being abandoned, and activates his trap, killing himself.

This man, who tried to weasel into any team he could, ended up only being trusted by the team he shut out.

Etho’s last words were “my team is abandoning me” but they stuck by him. It was etho who abandoned them.

7 remain.

Bdubs

Bdubs marvels at how the Tuff Guys stuck together throughout it all. Reflecting on the start of the session, in that vast green pasture where the horse drama started. Where he said that they weren't a team, that they wouldn't help each other. Was it ever true?

No. Bdubs always wanted this team to succeed and will ensure it does, starting by trying to cripple gem and joel. He and Tango go in and steal anything they can carry, they may have triggered a trap and rolled a Nat 1 on deception when gem and joel returned, but all in all it was a fruitful trip.

After affirming that the Tuff Guys will stick together, he's given Ethos mace and promotions to use it wisely. Of course, as all wildcards are active weapons aren't the only way you can hurt other teams, he also feeds pearl the wrong information so she gets trivia wrong, and is swarmed by angry bees.

After this some relaxation is in order and so he goes to Scar and after handing over his spare boots and a frankly pathetic attempt from Scar to convince bdubs to kill tango, he's let on the rollercoaster of fun. He somehow manages to almost fall off and die. How.

OK back to murder, he sees his sights on Gem, tuning invisible with his powers and aiming to mace her. He misses every shot and Gem doesn't even notice. Pathetic.

Hey, at least he got yo hit etho with it in the end.

And as Bdubs flees from Cleo as they kill his dogs, he finds himself in the spider nest with Grian and Joel. Tango, below him, shoots a wind charge at grian… and accidentally hits Bdubs.

After all the reaffirmation of trust and reconciliation, still the Tuff Guys fall to each other's hands. The irony is poetic.

6 remain.

Tango

Tango spends a good portion of the session gearing up his mates, creating a cow spawner for them and joining Bdubs in fobbing gem, including destroying her own cow spawner.

Aside from that he spends all session just trying to survive and help his team, oh and joining in the manhunt for Joel but everyone was doing that.

And at the very end, Tango got Robotizised.

He heard Etho say he was being abandoned, he ran back to tell him he wasn't, but he couldn't hear him.

He called out for bdubs, but couldn't find him. He was distraught when he killed him and he'll never know.

How fitting that this team in particular would fall to a lack of communication.

Tango scales the mountain, unsure of what to do, and is shot by Joel.

5 remain.

Pearl

Pearl is ready for some bloodshed. She's all for killing the Bammers and Family with Creakings, even if both attempts fail miserably.

Reconvening at the old base, Pearl realises she has the mace power and drags Scott away on a murder camel to mace gems face.

She misses like all but two shots. It's pathetic. Only Gem was rooting for her.

OK, but maybe she'll do better when they hunt for Joel, swooping in to Hotguy him with her flight power… or maybe she'll miss that too.

And then Impulse dies. And Pearl is lost. Unsure of what to do, she and gem TRY one last time to reconcile, and it goes really well! Even if Joel is actively trying to kill her.

But then gem dies. And Pearl is even more lost than ever.

With nothing to lose, the three remaining Final Gals strom Bam Mountain. Pearl tried to get the jump on Joel with an ender pearl and… Falls 5 feet and is one shot by grian.

Well, she died as she lived

Pathetically.

4 remain.

Cleo

Yeah if you've noticed the segments getting shorter, that's because I've already mentioned what most of everyone did. Cleo spends most of her session just helping there team gear up or answer trivia.

She has a cowboy duel with Bigb and Torments Jimmy and Joel with creakings. That's something

Oh and at the very end she summons basically all the servers as Zombies and orders them to kill Gem.

Unfortunately they're all on 4 hearts and have no gear and Scar straight up didn't listen to her so Gem became vex food instead.

And yes, that means that everyone but Tango, Bdubs, Joel, Grian and Gem were all on the Final Gals team at some point since cleo considers the Zombies to be team members

Anyway, she gets stabbed by Joel.

3 remain.

Martren

Something happened to Ren. As he merged with martyn last session, the DNA stayed in his genome. He became a DNA abomination of the class WL-8, known as Martren.

But, was it an accident? Or did be just want to keep martyn around? To never lose him again? Ren came back to save martyn, a man no longer puppeteered by forces beyond their control, to cure the evil that had placed in his heart… but yet it remained, because martyn was always this way to some extent. Always ruthless, always dangerous. And in tye exact moment ren came to terms with this, martyn died. In front of him. Again. After that, why would he ever let him go, even if it meant losing himself?

Anyway, enough being overly dramatic, that's Ren's job! And he does it very well, managing to act out the idea of a man split between bloody vengeance and a desire for friendship perfectly.

Everyone else isn't a big fan of Matren tho, ujderatanvle, this is the weirdest shit ren has ever pulled by far.

Despite being a literal monster, Martren does well for himself, making friends with the tuff guys, Jimmy and The Gs, being fully geared up by the latter

Ren also acts out a meeting between Martren and The Undead Martyn. Which like dam imagine fusing with your pseudo wife and then their Reanimated corpse says he doesn't recognise you and insults your face. I definitely wouldn't go camel boarding with them after that, even if it was to kill Joel

But, as he and the gals stormed Bam mountain, the fire of the beams proved too strong for martren.

At least now he may finally rest.

2 remain.

Grian

Grian starts with a tentative alliance with the Tuff Guys being formed, in which he promises to 100% never try to kill bdubs again.

Yeah he tries to kill bdubs again later in the session. Plops a TNT minecart right in his tower. I mean he's somewhat remorseful, so I guess that's something.

He has no remorse for Jimmy though. He's desperate for him to die. He tries to sneak attack them, but is distracted by running into Impulse and his team. Through, later he is able to rig the Bam-Bunker to explode. Now his family isn't too pleased with him blowing up there only allies, but not much they can do about it.

The especially can't complain as Grian repeatedly saves Joel, such as when he teleported him out of the fray when the entire server was hunting him, nearly at the cost of his own life.

In the end, grian promotions his life to joel as the two of the stand on Mumbo Tower, preparing for war.

But as the dust settles and their enemies lay dead, there is no sacrifice from grian. He tried to shoot Joel down where he stood.

But in the end, there is only one way Grian’s story would end

Like skizz

Like mumbo

Falling to the ground.

1 remains.

Joel Toretto. The Chariot

How fitting is it that the member most Wild, most aggressive, most dangerous, would win Wild life?

And how ironic is it that the only reason he does is by being none of those things?

Across this entire season Joel has been passive, even as Gem was starting drama or Etho was betraying him or people were trying to kill him, he never took action. He stayed with his family, in his ugly car, and simply lived.

This session is no different, he saves Jimmy from a ravenger, he takes gem caving, he refuses to go after Scott. He never takes action. Only reaction.

In other seasons, he'd have gone red early, killed have the server and died by Scott's hand in a Blaze of glory.

But here, by not provoking anyone, he was finally able to win.

He Barely even fights. He turns Impulses snail invisible and hits cleo and ren and few times, but that's it.

Even when the whole sever chases him down, he doesn't engage because it'll he did he would be surrounded and killed. Any beast, no matter how dangerous, can be slain. But you cannot kill what you can't hit.

In a way Joel's journey here parallels Scott's win more than anything he did in any other season. An honurable man never backing down, but never raising his sword.

And so it is Joel who is able to walk down the corridor, to face that red door with everyone watching, and walk into destiny

Unfortunately he himself built destiny, so the trap fails and he looks like a goober.

But hey, finally Joel Toretto can ride off into the sunset in that great big car.

No more players remain. This World Is dead

Until next time.

[himluv]

Wonder

More Lucanis/Rook - and things are getting... confusing for our hapless rogue. @vorchagirl

It was late. The dining hall’s fire burned low, but the coffee was fresh. Lucanis sat at the table working on his shopping list. He’d had several requests and, with the recent addition of Taash and Emmrich, new palates to consider. He would go to Treviso tomorrow to resupply, and to check in with Teia and Viago.

Taash liked spicy foods, so he’d stock up on various kinds of peppers. Emmrich was vegetarian, which meant they needed more beans, lentils, and squashes. It would be good to have extra – he would get Neve to eat a vegetable if it was the last thing he did. 

Assuming she ever came back.

He’d tried to imagine how it would feel if Rook hadn’t come to Treviso. If the dragon had been permitted to lay waste and spread the blight for hours. Just imagining it broke his heart. He couldn’t fathom how crushed Neve must feel. Lucanis wanted to help, but without her here, he wasn’t sure where to start. 

Rook! Spite said. The demon had taken to announcing the elf’s presence whenever he noticed her, like a dog barking before someone knocked at the door. 

Sure enough, she walked into the dining hall a moment later. She wore the linen shirt she usually wore under her leathers, its deep v-neck loose and flowing without her armor’s belts and pouches holding it in place. 

Mierda, she looked good. He wanted to touch her, her skin, her hair. He wondered if her lips were as soft as he imagined them. Wondered what it would feel like to pull her close and know the curve of her body on his. 

Lucanis cleared his throat and frowned down at his shopping list. He needed to focus. But he wasn’t used to feeling like this. Even with Viago, it’d been more about the man than his body. His dark humor and little smirks had been utterly charming. 

With Rook… somehow it was both? She was funny and interesting, her smile brightened any room, and Lucanis could listen to her talk endlessly. But his body reacted to her presence in a way he hadn’t known it could.

Want. Rook?  Spite asked.

Mierda, yes. There was no point denying it. 

Want Rook. To do what?

Maker help him. He was not going to explain sex to a demon. Especially not when his own understanding of the topic was so… limited.

“Wow,” Rook said from over his shoulder. “What did that shopping list do to you?”

He snorted at that. “It’s late, Rook,” he said. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” She hoisted herself up to sit on the table, swinging her feet. Lucanis pointedly did not look at her as she leaned back into her palms. 

Was she trying to kill him? But, of course she wasn’t. She had no idea what power she held over him, and that was for the best. 

“I’m always up,” he said. 

She scowled at that, but didn’t comment. When it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything else, Lucanis turned his attention back to his list. 

Smells like berries and campfire, Spite said. Warm and soft. He took a big sniff, suddenly appearing to stand between her legs, the demon’s face trailing up her body as he inhaled. Smells nice!

“Spite, could you not? Mierda.” That was not helping.

Rook went still. “What’s he doing?”

“Nothing,” Lucanis said too quickly. He stared down at his list and willed himself not to blush. He was a grown man, even if he was inexperienced. He sighed. “Did you need something, Rook?”

“Oh,” she said. 

Lucanis winced at her disappointed tone. It was late. Everyone else was probably asleep, and after Minrathous, he couldn’t blame her for avoiding her dreams. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not very good company right now.”

“Is…” she paused, as if she was uncertain if she should ask. “Is everything okay?”

He sat back in his chair and looked at her. “I’m fine.”

She raised a brow at him. 

He gave her a tiny smile. “Honestly,” he said. “Just…” he shook his head. “Thinking about Neve.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”

Was that what was keeping her up at night?

Smoke and fire, Spite said.  Dreams of blood and screams.

That sounded pretty familiar. Although Lucanis tended to dream less of fire and more of water. 

Spite hissed at the memory of the Ossuary.

“She’ll come back,” he said with a confidence he didn’t quite feel.

“I know,” Rook said. She shook her head. “But things will be different.”

“I know.” There was nothing they could do about that. 

After a moment, Rook peered down at his list. “So, what are we eating this week?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he said. “Why? Was there something you wanted?”

She sat back again, tapping her chin with one index finger as she made a show of thinking. 

This time, Lucanis looked. He let his eyes rove over her, noted the swell of her thighs and hips, how they tapered up into her high waist. Maker, he wanted to put his hands there. To feel her ribcage expand as her breath hitched. Her shirt bared a tantalizing view of her sternum, her collarbones and throat. Lucanis wondered what her skin would taste like. Wondered what sounds she would make if he kissed her in that spot where her neck met her shoulder. 

“There’s this stew,” she said. 

Lucanis blinked, his eyes darting up to her face, sure he’d be caught staring. But she was looking up at the ceiling.

“I used to get it in Wycome,” she continued. “When I had the spare coin.” She sighed. “It had mashed potatoes and this rich venison gravy.”

He suddenly wanted nothing more than to make this dish for her. To see her taste a memory of home, hear her moan in pleasure at something he'd made. Did this count as a fantasy? He wasn’t sure. All of this was new territory for him. 

“I don’t know what it’s called though,” she said. “The stall I bought it from just called it ‘Stew’.” She chuckled at that, the sound carrying a forgotten fondness that seemed to surprise her. “I haven’t thought of that place in forever.”

Lucanis smiled at her. “I’ll see what I can find,” he said. He’d never been to Wycome, but despite their independence, the Marches were all fairly similar. He’d had a similar dish while working in Starkhaven some years ago. If he could find the right ingredients, he should be able to recreate something close. 

Rook smiled, and then yawned. She stretched, bowing her back and rolling her body in a way that Lucanis was most definitely not immune to. He kept his arms crossed and his hands balled into fists, otherwise he didn’t trust himself not to reach out and touch her. 

“Thanks, Lucanis,” she said. 

He frowned. “For what?”

She shrugged. “For listening,” she said. “Even when you don’t want to.”

“I always want to.” The words were out before he could stop them. They hung between them, charged and crackling more than the fire behind him. She watched him with those violet-tinged eyes, and her gaze was so intent Lucanis had to look away. 

He cleared his throat and added a few new ingredients to his list. Venison. Potatoes. Cream. Rook slid down off the table, taking his sudden focus as the dismissal it was. He needed space between them again, or he would falter. 

“Goodnight, Lucanis,” she said. 

He waited until she was at the door to say, “Goodnight, Rook.”

She lingered at the door just long enough for him to glance up and catch her smile. It was more than enough to get him through the night.

[may85]

To Know You Pt1

Summary: Logan is being sent back to stop a mutant from wiping everyone and everything off the planet. He encounters a young Reader in the midst and finally understands her better.

Character: Logan Howlett x Reader

Movie: X-Men

Warnings: None at the moment

Word Count: 609

Photo/GIF credits go to the original maker/owner

You came into the sick bay, carrying a blanket for Logan. You knew Jean had hospital sheets, but you wanted your man to have something that would ground him if things were to get difficult.

Logan lay back on the table, staring at the ceiling until you came into his view. He smiled, opening his hand to you, needing to feel your soft skin.

“Hey Sweetheart,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze.

You leaned over, pecking his lips, “Hey Handsome. I brought you this blanket,”

As you slipped your hand from his, he placed his on your waist as you covered him. Your brow was pinched, knowing that this wasn't going to be pleasant for him.

He'd been taken back into time thanks to Kitty to deliver a message to a young Xavier about a year ago and is now needed to go back once more. This time to stop a young mutant from erasing everyone and everything from existence. 

He squeezed your hip and tried to reassure you, “I'll be fine,”

You cleared your throat and blinked away burning in your eyes. It was all you could do to not cry. This was a dangerous mission.

Fumbling with the blanket to make sure his bare toes were covered you softly replied, “I know… doesn't make this any easier though,”

Logan sat up and cupped your cheek, “I'm coming back to you, Y/N. Nothing is going to keep me away. You hear me?”

His thumb ran over the apple of your cheek as you nodded, “Loud and clear,”

Jean cleared her throat and handed you some electrodes, “Put these on his chest and hook up the wires. Match the colors to pads,”

You nodded, “Lay back hun,”

Logan did as you asked and sighed. He watched you intently as you did as Jean asked. Once the last electrode was on, he gripped your hand, bringing it to his mouth for a soft kiss.

“Be here when I get back?” He asked.

“Of course you goon,” you smiled.

Xavier and Kitty came into the bay, ready to get things rolling.

With his eyes focused only on you, Logan pulled you down to him, “Gimmie one more kiss, sweetheart. For good luck,”

The kiss was soft and thankfully he kept it PG so not to embarrass you in front of Xavier. Like with everyone else, the Professor was like a family member to you… and family meant everything.

“Y/N, Logan. Are we ready?” Xavier asked 

You shook your head no as you and Logan verbally replied, “Yes,”

Xavier, Logan, Kitty and Jean all softly laughed at your antics.

“My dear, Y/N. Everything will be fine,” the Professor patted your arm.

You nodded, biting your lip as you looked at Logan. His eyes on you.

Kitty sat at the head of Logan and popped her fingers before placing them at his temples, “Ready when y'all are,”

You backed away, knowing that the first initial shock will have Logan's claws out. Xavier sat by the side of Kitty and began to speak softly, his voice soothing and very low. You couldn't make out what he was saying.

Logan watched you until his eyes fully closed and his breathing evened out. As Kitty focused her powers, his body jerked, his claws coming out. His body was taught, the veins nearly popping.

You stood there, nearly reaching out until Jean stopped you, “Y/N… look,”

As she nodded towards Logan, you saw his body relax and his claws slowly sink back into his skin.

“We're in,” Kitty said.

“And now we wait,” Professor Xavier said.

Waiting was always the hardest part…

Requests for Logan, Van Helsing and The Drover are OPEN!

[cowgurrrl]

More domestic Joel Miller headcanons because I can’t stop thinking about him

When Tommy and Maria have their daughter, Joel absolutely falls in love with her. You two take turns helping the new parents out so they can get some sleep which means you get to watch Joel hold the tiny baby

He will bounce her around the dimly lit room, humming whatever song is stuck in his head, and his curls are a mess on top of his head and he looks so tired but he’s so happy

As she gets older, she clings to him and cannot get enough of him

One time you were walking through town together and you heard a very loud “UNCA JOE” coming from behind you

Joel lit up like a Christmas tree when he turned around and saw the little girl abandoning Maria to rush across the town square and into his arms

She and Ellie become fast friends and the two become little trouble makers despite their 14 year age gap

Speaking of trouble, Ellie constantly makes fun of how affectionate you and Joel are at home. On patrol, you keep it professional and barely even kiss each other goodbye. But, once you’re in the comfort of your own home, all bets are off

This man was so touch-starved for so many years but now that he has you, he is the clingiest man alive

Joel will come up behind you when you’re doing something and wrap his arms around you, kiss your neck, tickle you, whatever he needs to do to distract you

He LOOOVVVEEESSS laying his head in your lap and letting you run your fingers through his hair while you ramble about your day

Can’t fall asleep unless he’s touching some part of you

He has a horrible habit of smacking your ass any chance he gets (poor Ellie)

“You guys are gross,” she’s yelled across the room so many times you’ve lost count. Joel thinks it’s hilarious each time

“You’re gross,” he’ll accuse before letting go of you and turning to face her. “You don’t have to be so jealous. There’s enough Joel Miller to go around.” He teases before wrapping her in a big hug and spinning her around the room

Her squeals of laughter could power a whole city as she screams at him to put her down

Loves cooking even if it took him a long time to learn

You and Ellie grinned your way through some truly awful meals but he got better and now you actually look forward to when he cooks

Teaches Ellie how to cook even though she’s more impatient than he is

You manage to snap a Polaroid of the two of them at the stove with their backs to you and under it you wrote “Chefs Miller + Williams”

Oh my god the nicknames they would come up with for each other

Ellie Bellie was the first one and then it quickly divulged into Elle Belle, Bellie, Smellie, Smell, Elle, and so many more

At one point, you were each calling her Beleanor Roosevelt

Joel’s nicknames get cycled through pretty quickly: Joey, Jo Bro, Joel Bowl, Bowl, Grumpy McGrumps (curtesy of Ellie), Goel (Joel’s drunk alter-ego) and whatever else ends up sticking

Joel is one of the most intelligent men you have ever met and you would (and have) trusted him with your life but Jesus Christ is he oblivious when Ellie starts dating

Sarah wasn’t really interested in dating so Joel never had to talk to her about anything but with Ellie EVERYTHING is different

Ellie never really came out in the sense that she never sat you two down to have an emotional conversation. She just kinda came home with Cat and told you she was her girlfriend

You were being a typical protective figure for Ellie and asked Cat lots of questions but even then you weren’t sure if you thought Cat was right for Ellie. Joel, however, was surprisingly quick to welcome Cat and didn’t have any qualms about Ellie dating

When you asked him about it later, he shrugged and said, “I think it’s nice that Ellie has good girlfriends like her”

“No, Joel. Cat is Ellie’s girlfriend not a girlfriend”

“I’m lost”

Once you explain it to him, he goes into Ellie’s room and they talk for a long time about God knows what

Joel Miller may be from Texas but that man supports his daughter, no matter what

Neither of you ended up being a huge fan of Cat but once Ellie and Dina start dating, it’s over

Joel invites Dina over for dinner every chance he gets and embarrasses Ellie each time but Dina loves it

Subtly tries to teach Ellie love songs on the guitar

Ellie subtly lets him

You subtly fall deeper in love and the life you have built with them

In conclusion, Joel Miller would be the sweetest little domestic guy if given the chance.

Give me my last paragraph back or give me death 🍓🍓🍓

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Happy Birthday, little finch.

Gif credits

Pairing: Jackson!Joel X AFAB!reader

Words count: 6731

Rating: +18 NSFW, Minors please don’t interact

Summary: Everyone forgets your birthday but you receive an unexpected invitation (wink) that will change the fate of the day.

Warnings: POV second person, smut, little power dynamic, little brat taming, begging, unprotected P in V (please, always use protections in real life!), Reader's age is intentionally unspecified, you can imagine an age gap between her and Joel or not, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), nipples play, Joel comes on reader's tits, just a little of pulling hair, soft!Joel, grumpy!Joel, pet names (little finch, honey, baby, babe), mention of fasting as a sarcastic joke (I don’t condone joking about no one’s eating habits), reader has hair (It is not specified how long they are or what they look like), reader can be lifted by big and strong Joel, reader has a able body, breasts and vagina and she wears a dress, apart from that no other description is given, reader is part of the Jackson community, I don't know anything about Jackson, I only know a few details about second game’s plot (including that detail, yes) so everything I describe is purely from my imagination and may have no bearing on the original Jackson, brief appearances by Maria, Tommy, Ellie and Dina, drinking, swearing, Joel calls reader “little finch” (I came up with this nickname just because my grandpa used to call me with a bird name when I was little and I always found it sweet, so here we go ❤️), Joel can draw (I don't know if it's true but for me it is, okay, allow me). I hope I haven't forgotten anything but if I do I'll add it as soon as I notice.

English is not my first language so please be kind, I always try to do my best, no proofreading (sorry), very little editing, I apologize for any mistakes. I'm writing on my phone, I hope the formatting isn't too bad 🥲

Thank you so much to anyone who will read this, I really hope you’ll like it, kind comments and advices are really appreciated ❤️

I've been listening to Hozier's "Talk" heavily while writing this so here it is, I'll let you know. It's such a beautiful song and I love Hozier so much 🫠

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

You wake up struck by a ray of sunlight that enters faintly through the half-closed shutters and dies right on your face.

You have no idea what time it is and your head feels heavy and confused, you turn over in bed thinking that maybe you can give yourself another 5 minutes but then you hear voices outside already awake and ringing and then you think that maybe it's really late. You sit up and retrieve the clock from the bedside table, it's 7 in the morning.

You get up and go to the kitchen to make some coffee and from the window you see some people already busy doing their work. Some children head towards the building designated as school in Jackson, happily laughing while they chase each others.

You yawn and open the cabinet in the kitchen where you keep the coffee filters, a precious supply recovered during an exploration that you jealously preserve.

The coffee is also the result of a find and therefore it was carefully rationed with the other members of the community.

You are grateful that it exists because this morning you really need it, last night you slept badly, continuing to toss in your sleep and always dreaming of the same thing again and again. You being swallowed up by a hole in the ground and no hand reaching out to help you. Just a great dream.

The coffee maker burbles a few minutes later, releasing the drink you crave.

Temperatures are milder in this season so you no longer need to put on a heavy jacket and snow boots, there is a bit of fresh wind but nothing compared to the harsh winter that has just passed.

Today in particular you feel like dressing better than usual, you go back to your room and open the wardrobe, carefully inspecting the few clothes hanging there.

You obviously don't have much choice because they're all salvaged second-hand clothes, but Maria gave you a nice pair of denim shorts a month ago and they look very nice on you.

You take it out of the closet and place it on the bed along with a white tank top that highlights your boobs just right, it’s nothing particularly fancy but it makes you feel good, you head towards the shower humming softly.

The shower helps you wake up, you dress and you leave the house feeling a bit better.

You meet a couple of people who greet you as you make your way to the library.

You enter, smelling the familiar smell of books and immediately get to work cleaning and dusting the shelves and the floor, like every day.

The morning passes peacefully, only a couple of people come in to borrow books, so after doing your chores you took the opportunity to rearrange thriller’s books section.

You're a bit shocked by the fact that no one told you anything particular but you don't mind, these people have a lot to think about and a lot to do.

When you leave it's lunch time, so you head to the common room.

The crisp air caresses your face and the sun gives you a little warmth that you missed so much, you really love this season in Jackson.

You enter the room filled with chatter that echoes off the walls. You take your place in line and once you have had your portion you sit at one of the tables.

No one reaches you yet. You're alone in a room full of people.

You see him in a corner, sitting with Maria and Tommy and you get lost for a while observing the way he moves his large hands, how his hair rests at the base of his neck, his big brown eyes, so communicative, the way his flannel shirt - which has practically become a distinctive trait of Joel - hug his muscles, the way his lower lip slightly twitch while he’s talking.

You’re totally captivated.

You can't help it and you know it.

Every time he spoke to you, even for just a few minutes, your body reacted unequivocally at his deep low raspy voice, his proximity always caused you trouble.

You like this man, much more than you are willing to admit.

Joel Miller.

You're friends, you might say. As much as it is possible to be friends with a man like him.

He's friendly, but always with an undertone of detachment that you can't define, as if he's afraid of letting himself go with someone and let his feelings flow freely.

And just as you're thinking this, he turns and looks at you for a moment.

You are sitting, yet your knees feel weak and you feel your cheeks redden knowing you've been caught.

You turn your eyes back to your lunch, quickly finishing your meal and bringing your tray back. You leave the common room feeling in a bubble.

It's stupid that he makes you feel like a little girl with her first crush but it always happens, by now you're resigned to always making a fool of yourself with him.

You walk home to do your household chores and then go to the patch of garden you've been assigned to take care of.

You meet various people along the way but again everyone just say hello, you see Ellie with Dina and they both wave at you and nothing more. In the meantime, Maria has left the common room and the only thing she asks you is how the courgettes you planted a month ago are coming along.

It's strange, but you shrug your shoulders and think that deep down today is not such a relevant day for others even if you hoped it would be because you now consider these people as your new family.

You stop thinking about it and focus on the things you have to do but a tiny piece of your heart hurts a little, just a little.

What the hell is wrong with people today? Only a month ago they throw a big party for Tommy and now nothing, not even a hint.

Okay, Tommy is higher rank, he is married to Maria, everyone sees him as a guide just as they see his partner.

And he goes on patrols, certainly offering others a greater sense of security and protection, unlike you who deal with less dangerous things.

That's probably why, you're just a minion in Jackson's pecking order.

You let off some steam by plowing your field with more force than necessary, small drops of sweat slide down your forehead and you end up hot and with your arms aching from the effort.

Stupid girl, stop thinking about it, it's not that important to have a birthday, not in a post apocalyptic world where everyone is struggling to get ahead.

But still, they acknowledged every single special day of everyone’s here before, except yours and nothing particularly relevant is happening, it’s been a couple of quiet weeks.

You're wiping sweat from your forehead with one hand when you hear a voice behind you.

"What are you doing tonight?" It's his voice, you'd recognize his among a thousand.

You turn around stuttering “uh, what?”

And there he is, flannel shirt, curls slightly blowing in the wind, mouth curved in a smirk, dark piercing eyes.

Fuck.

“I asked…what are you doing tonight?”

You feel the nervousness rising in your chest, it's the first time he's spoken to you in a week and you weren't ready in the slightest.

“Uh…oh…nothing special, I guess, I think I'll read a book and go to sleep early”

you say trying to maintain a certain apparent nonchalance.

“You didn't mention dinner, are you going to fast?” Oh, great. Sarcastic jokes, classic Miller behavior.

“No, of course not,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

He chuckles “okay, so, would you like to come to my house? I cook”

Fuck. Is that, a date?

You instantly feel your mouth dry as you try to reply “Well, it’s not like I have something better to do so yes, why not”

You don't want to make it obvious to this man how he makes you feel. There are worse things to worry about in this world, but letting yourself go with someone who always shows restraint only to be rejected - on your birthday, no less - doesn't seem as pleasant.

And that's how you usually communicate anyway, bickering.

Maria often laughs about it, you are both stubborn and neither of you ever wants to agree with the other.

One day she told you that she thinks you'll end up together and you practically laughed in her face. Not because you don't want to, but because you thought Joel didn't even see you that way.

Maybe Maria was right all along, who knows.

“Good, see you at 7”

And he goes.

You watch him walk away for a while, still with spade in your hands.

Suddenly this day became interesting.

You run into the house and take off your dirty clothes throwing them in the basket you keep in the bathroom and go to the shower.

While you're soaping yourself up you wonder what came into his mind.

As you rub your hair, you think that maybe he's making fun of you but Joel doesn't seem like the type to make a prank, he's always quite sarcastic but not a proper prankster.

It's part of his charm, he always looks grumpy but you know he's not bad, the way he looks at Ellie or his brother says everything about him.

He would do anything for the people he loves.

And he’s not mean, he was kind to you too.

You've spent more time looking at him, analyzing every chat you had with him than you like to admit, so yeah, you're pretty sure he's okay.

Once you get out of the shower you open the wardrobe and find yourself contemplating the usual clothes with which you have to make the best of things.

There is a cute dress that you have never worn because you have never found a particular occasion. It's quite short and low-cut, definitely not suited to Jackson's lifestyle, here everyone wears jeans and sweaters or t-shirts.

You think that maybe tonight is the time to dare even if you don't want him to burst out laughing and ask you what you've got in your head.

It's just a dinner.

He never mentioned anything romantic.

You're obviously nervous, because you like him and if it doesn't go well you should continue to see him every day anyway.

In the end you decide to wear the dress anyway but to tone it down with a cardigan and a pair of boots, so as to make it look less like "please fuck me" style.

You shake your head, how much trouble are you going to for Joel Miller.

However, you have to admit that it's the first really exciting thing that's happened to you since you've been here. You thought that surviving was enough so you obviously never complained about it.

You fix your hair after drying it, you look at yourself in the mirror and you think that you're not that bad after all.

It's almost time, you leave the house and walk the few meters that separate you from Joel's house with your heart beating wildly in your chest.

You climb the few steps to his porch feeling insecure and stupid for accepting, who knows what you expect from this lonely man.

You shrug and knock on the door, snuggling into your cardigan in the cool evening air.

You consider going back and pretending you had a mishap, but Joel opens the door.

“Hey, come in” he smiles at you. You cross the threshold timidly as a delicious scent invades your nostrils.

Who knew Joel Miller could cook?

You follow him into the kitchen and Joel pours you a glass of wine.

“Where did you find this?” you ask in surprise. Wine is a luxury that you haven't been able to afford many times in Jackson, usually the only thing they bring back after searches and patrols are bottles of cheap whiskey.

“I found it two km from here in an abandoned shop. It was stuck under a shelf, probably for years”

“Oh, great”

“Well they say that aged wines are better. Like men, don't you agree?” He smiles, winking at you.

He winked.

Fuck.

You try to hide your surprise by taking a long sip from your glass.

While Joel is busy checking on the stew you take a look around the living room.

It's a nice house, simply furnished like all the houses in Jackson, tidy and clean.

There are some sheets with drawings on the coffee table in front of the couch. You know Joel made them because you've seen him several times on his porch busy drawing animals. A squirrel, a deer, a small bird. He's really good at it.

And obviously his guitar, resting on a stand in a corner near the couch.

In a totally cheesy way you would love to hear him play something for you.

“So, do you like wine?”

You turn and see that he is a few steps away from you, glass in hand.

“Uhm, yeah, it’s good”

He gives you a smile “stew is almost ready”

“Can I help you with something?”

“No, don’t worry, you’re the guest”

You see him linger with his gaze on your legs and up to your breasts and you think that the dress wasn't such a bad idea after all.

He is wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans and is breathtaking.

You scan each other for a few seconds, without speaking. You are like two predators sniffing each other to see who will give in first.

“That dress looks good on you” he finally says and for the first time you notice that he is slightly embarrassed. He looks down at his glass and stares at it harder than necessary.

You still don't know why he invited you tonight but honestly at this point you don't even care. He's more handsome than ever, his hair still slightly damp from the shower and pulled back, that little scar on his cheek that you'd be eager to find out the story of, that smile he's giving you and his hands nervously gripping the glass, everything about him draws you in like a magnet.

"Thank you. You're not bad either." You giggle and you know that it’s definitely what you needed tonight. To feel attractive. To feel seen.

He comes back to the kitchen and after a few seconds he calls you “Dinner’s ready”

You sit at the table in the kitchen and he places a plate in front of you that smells of home, of memories and takes you back to when you were little and your mom cooked for you.

It's like Proust's madeleine.

Evoking sweet feelings with food is one of your favorite things to remember who you were, who you loved, and what was before this debacle.

It's melancholy but also comfort in a certain way, it's like holding on to the truest and most authentic part of you, the one that made you who you are today and probably allowed you to survive.

You take a bite as Joel looks at you in anticipation.

“Wow, this is good!” you exclaim “extremely good. Who knew that you were a chef”

“Ha! I’m really not, it’s just a stew and I’ve done it so many time that I can’t get it wrong at this point”

“It's still the best I've had in years, I need to get invited to dinner more often”

You chuckle and then you blush, because you've made it clear that you hope it's the first of many times.

Damn you.

You hadn't had a love interest in years, obviously, there wasn't time to think about that while the world burned and you had to fight to stay alive. But here, in this little bubble, where people have welcomed you and you have recovered crumbs of normality, it doesn't seem too stupid to feel something for Joel.

Is he grumpy? Sometimes. But he is also incredibly generous, to be honest. When you asked him, a formal contractor, to help you create the library he snorted, he told you that it wasn't necessary, that no one would ever go there anyway.

You shrugged and said that you would have done it anyway with or without his help, Maria had already given you permission.

The next morning you got up early to go and clean up the designated building and found him there, he was repairing a damaged window that wouldn't go up or down.

He grumbled when you asked him ironically what he was doing “someone has to stop you from opening a crumbling library”

You smiled, feeling your heart warm.

And so it was every day until the place was ready. Joel showed up early in the morning or in the evening, spent a few hours fixing the steps, eradicating moths, building shelves and cabinets, even a desk for you.

You've never talked in depth about your lives but you still know something you've heard through the grapevine. He's very secretive about his past so you never asked him any uncomfortable questions, the last thing you would want is for him to never share anything with you again.

The time he helped you with the library was the most enjoyable time you've had here so far and that's when you realized that your crush was more serious than expected.

“Do you want another glass of wine?”

“Why not, i don’t have to drive home”

He laughs “Yeah, no fines for you”

“At most a headache, but I'll think about that in the morning”

“Were you surprised when I invited you?”

he leaves you speechless for a moment and then you find, you don't know how, the strength to use irony, like you always do "I've known for a long time that you want me" you giggle and brush your hair away from your face while you say it.

"Oh yes? How strange, I actually thought it was the opposite” the smirk and the deep chuckle he gives to you goes straight to the most private part of you. Right there. It sits on your clit and you feel it tingling.

Fuck, this man.

You never experienced a flirty Joel Miller before and you were actually quite sure he wasn’t even capable of being so but he is.

“Oh shut up, finish eating” you scoff, feeling your cheeks turn on fire.

He lets go for a while and watches you amusedly fill your mouth with his stew.

“It's a pleasure to see you eat, little finch”

He started calling you that when you couldn't move the furniture in the library on your own. "I don't know how you thought you could manage on your own, little finch."

At first you hated it, now you pretend to hate it but you actually like it.

“Stop calling me that!” you still have to keep up a facade after all.

“Oh come on, finch is the cutest bird, don’t be offended”

“I’m no bird” you pout.

“Yep you are, finch. Delicate. Elegant. Pretty. You walk like you’re floating in the light air and your voice is a lovely chirping sound. It gets on my nerves sometimes, but I actually like it. A lot.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

You can't believe he said that.

You feel your heart melt like snow under the sun, your lips involuntarily curl into a smile, your hands tremble with the desire to touching him and between your legs a lustful heat invades you all over.

His face is relaxed, his eyes sparkle mischievously and his smile…his smile pins you to the chair.

You raise your glass in an attempt to drink some courage while he doesn't stop looking at you silently.

Just enough time to bring your lips close to the glass and you find yourself coughing, you're too distracted and the wine goes sideways.

Obviously.

You can't help but look like a fool in front of him, you don't even know how he thinks you're elegant.

“Jesus, are you okay?” he asks in alarm as he reaches up to wrap his arm around your back and pat you lightly.

To your surprise, his large, calloused hands can be very gentle.

“Oh my god, yes, yes I’m okay” you reply between coughs "I'll get over it now"

Now that he knows that you will survive he sits back down to his chair and scrutinizes you with an amused expression.

“Did I go too hard on you?”

“What? No, not all” you reply red-faced, while trying to regain some composure.

“Okay, if you say so” he places a hand on yours gripping the table “Has it passed?”

“Yeah, I think it is” You pour a little water into the other glass he has set and drink, this time slowly.

Finally you feel your breathing return to regularity and your cough gradually subside.“Thank goodness, little finch, think if I should have taken you to the doctor in that lovely dress” and laughs.

You've never seen him laugh so much.

He is intelligible most of the time but tonight he is an open book.

“What's wrong with this dress, Miller?” you ask, ironically, you may be clumsy but not to this point and you want to try to get back at him.

"Nothing. You don't see many of them in Jackson, that's all."

“It doesn't look like anything special to me,” you say, as you realize he's staring insistently at your tits. “Do you see anything special, Miller?”

He shrugs “It’s pretty low cut for nothing”

You bend over slightly, resting your forearms on the table smiling at him, exposing your boobs even more. He is sitting in front of you and still watching at them.

“You're pretty good at it after all, little finch” his eyes have become darker and it's as if a small flame is burning inside them.

You feel a certain pride rising in your chest.

“Now you look like the embarrassed one, Miller, have you seen how things have changed?” Your smirk doesn't go unnoticed by Joel who squirms in his seat as if it has suddenly become uncomfortable.

"Can you tell me something? Why did you invite me tonight?” you’re pushing him, and you know it. And actually, you like it, for once you feel like you have the upper hand.

“Isn't it obvious, finch?” he mutter.

“Maybe, but I'd like to hear it from you. Use your words, Miller, I know you can."

“When you asked me to help you to arrange the library I thought you were crazy. Then I realized I was wrong. It was a nice idea. It was a great idea actually. No one here can go anywhere anymore, and in any case there is nowhere you can go so it is comforting to know that there is always a way to take refuge elsewhere, at least for a few hours, reading a great book. So yes, finch, I like you. I like you because you gave us back some beauty.”

“Fuck Miller, you can make speeches whenever you want”

“It's just one of the reasons I like you, you’re also smart and thoughtful and gorgeous but yeah, that’s it, I’ve said it”

His gaze is languid, you'd almost say longing. Maybe you managed to scratch a small piece of the invisible armor he built to protect himself.

One moment you were bickering as usual and the next Joel fucking Miller left you speechless.

No sarcasm, not an ounce of irony, he sounds sensitive and vulnerable.

It's so strange to see him in this light, the only other time it happened to you you were in the library, he found a children's book and held it in his hands looking at it in silence.

For a moment you could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes, he looked helpless and hurt and then it was the usual Joel, complaining about the mess and the weight of the boxes you had made him lift that gave nightmares to his back.

You get up from the chair without even realizing it, as if it were an involuntary movement that your body needs.

You stop in front of him, who is still sitting, his arms abandoned on the table, his gaze following you questioningly.

You put a hand in his hair and let it run through his dark curls while he instinctively closes his eyes, abandoning himself completely under your touch.

You would like to say something but you don't want to ruin the moment and in any case you can't find any words suitable to describe how you feel.

Moved, yearning, grateful, overwhelmed?

All these things together at the same time.

You let your hand linger on the base of his neck, stroking softly

“Look at me” you whisper.

And his gaze turns, his whole body turns, and you've never seen him so clearly. He rests his large hands on your hips and his gaze pierces you as he lands on yours.

You feel his grip tighten as you lean over him and leave a shy kiss on his lips. Small. Brief. And another, instinctively. And yet another.

And another until his lips part on yours and fit perfectly in a long sigh. He tastes like wine and loneliness and desire.

It’s manly but tender and demanding for more.

Your tongues meet and it's like an electric shock that surprises you but at the same time it's inevitable like when two surfaces rub together generating energy, it is an unwritten physical law that holds you together despite having used all your strength to keep each other at a distance for months.

Now, all you can do is give up.

You kiss him like it's the last thing you do in your life, his eager hands roam your hips, gripping your ass and squeezing tightly.

He part from your lips just the time to stand up and wrapping you entirely in his arms, his mouth searching for yours again, eager, his hands stroking your back while you feel just like a little finch in the most comfortable nest you could find.

“God, I want you” he mutter in your ear nuzzling at your sensitive skin.

“Take me. Just… take me, Joel”

It’s a dreadful need that you feel deep in your bone, the last shred of love you could find in this broken world, a sweet feeling of release that you desperately wanted.

You can’t think straight and don’t want to.

He take off your cardigan and reaches for the hem of your dress and lifts it up roaming your thighs feverishly, squeezing and stroking, his fingers digging into your flesh as you moan softly into his ear. He pulls it up to your waist and you help slide it off your head.

He bends down to take off your boots and throws them on the floor in an unspecified place, then he gets up and takes you back in his arms. He's still dressed while you're almost naked and exposed in a pair of black lace panties and a matching bra. You might be intimidated but you're not. You let yourself be held and explored by his hands. His calloused fingers, rough but gentle, touch you everywhere, giving you goosebumps. He lifts a hand to one of your breast and squeezes it through the fabric.

You can't help but let out a muffled moan while he is filling his hand with your flesh.

“Do you like it, finch? Me squeezing your boob?” he says in a whisper, looking into your eyes.

“Y-yes” you mumble “give me more”

There's a smug, lecherous smile painted on his face as he reaches for your bra and unclasps it with a single gesture.

He slides it off and drops it on the kitchen floor. Your nipples stiffen in an instant, hit by the air, he takes one between his fingers and pinches it, pulling it gently and then his mouth is on it swirling his tongue and sucking it. You squirm at the sensation, digging your hand into his hair again, pushing his face into your breast “more, more” you stammer. You feel his smile spread across your skin and his teeth bite lightly into you.

“You’re ravenous, aren’t you?”

You pull his hair and tilt his face slightly to regain eye contact. “Do you mind?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“Good, you can continue doing what you were doing” you smile defiantly. You like to provoke him, especially now.

“You're bossy for a little finch, I like that”

he smiles back, his eyes shining bright with thrill and anticipation.

He returns to greedily licking and sucking like a thirsty man on your nipples, another loud moan escape from your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so good”

“I just started with you, you have no idea what awaits you” he whispers.

“Mmm then less talking, Miller, show me”

Without having to be told twice, he picks you up, much to your surprise, and places you on his couch in the living room.

“Woah, Miller, easy”

“You told me not to waste time talking” he shrugs. chuckling.

He pulls you to the edge of the couch “spread your legs”

You open your legs a little but he is visibly not satisfied, he takes your knees and opens them more "Like this. Now stay still” he orders.

He kneels between your thighs and pulls your panties aside.

You feel his fingers trail up your thigh, slowly, taking the time to slide lightly over your skin, causing you a mixture of tickling and excitement.

You writhe when you feel his index finger grazing your pussy lips, wandering up and down caressing for a little bit before sliding it between them and wetting it completely in your juices.

“You’re soaking wet, baby”

You can literally feel your cunt dripping when he keeps going up and down, briefly sinking into your hole with the tip of his finger and then on your clit, moving in circle with two fingers over your bundle of nerves.

You’re whining again, you’re growing impatient and he perfectly knows that

“Joel…”

“Yes, Finch?”

“You're doing it again”

“What”

“You know what. Do you want to torture me?”

"No. I just want you to beg me."

“God, you’re impossible” you roll your eyes out of exhaustion and arousal.

He stops completely.

“So are you, babe. Can you please let me do what I know best?”

He presses on your clit with two fingers and you squirm.

“Fuck. Okay”

He starts teasing your clit again, moving his fingers up and down to gather your wetness and spread it all over your lips.

“The thing is, finch, your pussy is so good. Look at her, I can’t rush it. She deserves to be loved nicely and slowly”

He is sitting on his heels just taking his time with you and you can’t be more eager to have him in your hole but you breath, resigned to wait for his pace.

He teases your entrance again, this time with two fingers, pushing in a little deeper.

His thumb is still taking care of your clit, moving a little faster than before.

“Eyes on me, babe”

And you do, you lock your eyes with his and you see hunger and lust and wonder.

He’s admiring you and you feel flattered.

He brings his face closer and sticks his tongue out, licking you from bottom to top and then again, letting it slide between your lips.

His beard is scratching you, his tongue stops on your clit swirling around it, jerking it slowly, again and again until you see him closing his lips on it and sucking gently.

He’s devouring you at this point and you mewl and cry and scream for more.

“Jesus - fuck - oh my goodness”

Your fingers are entwined into his curls and you’re pushing his face against you as much as you can, his tongue is fucking your hole now, he delves into you and lick all he can and you start to feel an incredible warmth rising from your core, in your tummy, to your chest.

He finally lets his index and middle finger sliding into you, pumping slowly in and out of your dripping wet cunt.

“Joel, oh my God I - ha! - I can’t, oh God”

“Yes, you can. Just like that, baby, give it to me” he whispers softly against your skin.

You’re on the verge of coming, the most incredible orgasm is knocking at your senses, overwhelming and brutally crushing into you.

“I’m com - oh GOD - yes,Joel, fuck”

He praises you again “come for me, soak my fingers, come on”

And you do. You gush all over his fingers like it was the last thing you do in the world, your legs shake and your heart reach an impossible pace that leaves you breathless.

He keeps licking and pumping into you until you calm and you can’t take your eyes off him bowed between your thighs, he drives you wild.

He stands up grunting at his poor knees and you giggle, he raises an eyebrow at you

“I wouldn't laugh considering the fact that I just made you scream my name”

He sits down on the couch next to you, circling your waist with his big strong arm and pushing you against him.

You bury your face in his chest “Aw, you’re so touchy, Miller” and you giggle again.

“You’re such a little brat.” He says, stroking your hair “But see? I wasn’t lying. It's been many years since I last did this but I still know what to do”

You raise your eyes at him “yeah, I give you that. You’re fucking good” and you place a kiss on the hairless part of his beard “but I-”

“What?” he interrupts you, looking at you maliciously

You bite your lower lip, feeling hot again just for the way he’s holding you tightly watching you with lust in his eyes.

“I want your cock”

“Oh. It’s time to beg, baby”

“Joel…”

“Beg for it, little finch” he’s smiling but his voice is firm and slightly authoritative

“I never beg” you scoff

“You will start now, sweetie, if you want to see me naked”

You look at him with exasperation, rolling your eyes immediately after “okay, Jesus. Can you please give me your cock?”

“Manners, babe. Ask gently”

You ask yourself what have you done wrong to fall for such an unbearable man “Good Lord”

“Beg with conviction”

“Joel Miller, could you do me the courtesy of fucking me? Please?”

You’re smirking hard. You definitely love to get on his nerves.

“You’re getting into trouble with this attitude, you know that?” He reaches one of your nipples and pinches it hard making you whimper into his arms.

You turn serious, looking him in the eyes intensely, licking your lip before saying “Fuck me, Joel. Please.”

“Mmm yes, just like that baby, it didn't take much”

He finally stands up in front of you. He takes off his shirt, revealing a strong, broad chest.

You can see a thin strip of hair disappearing under his jeans but apart from that he is almost hairless, his skin is delightfully dotted with freckles that make your mouth water.

He throws off his shirt and bends over to remove his boots.

Your eyes linger on his back, on his tense, rippling muscles, you can't believe how gorgeous he is, after all you think it was worth begging for this but you will never tell him.

He unzips his jeans and takes them off, remaining in his boxers. The sight of his deliciously soft tummy drives you completely insane. You’re craving him like you never did with anyone before.

“Kneel on the couch for me, baby” he orders and you immediately do, you turn your head just in time to see him taking off his boxers, freeing his already hard and swollen cock. Your knees sink into the pillows and your hands rest on the armrest, you are completely exposed to his will.

He gets behind you on his knees, gripping your hips and pulling you towards him.

“Fuck me Joel, please, fuck me now” you cry

“Such a good girl, begging for my cock like that. You learn quickly, little finch”

You only feel the tip poking at your entrance, he slides his cock against your dripping folds “Beg once more, babe”

You writhe, it’s more than you can take right now, you want him desperately.

“Please, Joel. Please” your voice sounds distraught but you don’t care, not now.

He enters you with a single thrust that makes you scream “Fuck!”

He’s big, so big that his cock burns in your center.

“I told you you were getting into trouble, baby, if you wanted me to be gentle you should have behaved better”

It's a small punishment you can bear, after a few seconds you already got used to his intrusion, you never felt so full before and right now you couldn’t ask for anything better.

He begins to move slowly, in and out of you, sinking deeper each time and reaching that spot that makes you see stars.

His loud grunts numb your head, his fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts into you, maybe he will leave some marks and the thought excite you even more.

“Oh God, please don’t stop, please”

He’s pounding into you incessantly, every thrust more deep leaving you short breath, you’re so wet that every lewd sounds coming from your cunt is making you feel like you’re on the brink of falling apart.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like that, babe, the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, so perfect for me”

You whine even more at his praises, feeling your pussy clenching hard around his cock.

“Joel please I’m-”

“I know baby, I know, I can feel you, squeezing my cock just right, God you’re taking me so good”

You basically spasm on his cock right now, legs trembling as your sink your fingers in the fabric of the couch desperately trying to hold your posture.

He holds you tightly by your hips, grunting with each thrust into you, hitting your cervix again and again.

“Come for me baby, come all over my cock”

You’re quivering so hard that you almost think of being on the verge of losing your mind.

You cry his name feeling so full and dazed while your orgasm explodes inside you.

He pumps into you until you calm down but he’s still throbbing against your walls “Where do you want me?”

“On my tits - please”

He comes out of you and you lie down on his couch, his throbbing cock is in front of you, he takes it in his hand, milking it a couple of time before releasing his cum all over you. He moans loudly as he paints your tits and chest with his pleasure.

He lies down on top of you, groaning “God, this was amazing”

You feel his sticky seed spreading on your skin but you don't care, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him softly.

He moves to the side so as not to weigh you down and takes you in his arms again.

You hide your face for a moment in the crook of his neck, inhaling his woody, citrusy perfume, with a hint of the natural sweaty scent of his skin. He smells amazingly.

“I could get used to it” you giggle

“Me too, little finch” and he leaves a kiss on your hair.

“Oh, you made completely forgot about it, do you know what day it is today?”

“No, should I?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It’s my birthday.”

His eyes widen, “Really?”

“Yep”

“Well then happy birthday. Did you like your present?”

“It’s the best I’ve ever received”

You kiss him again, knowing how true it is.

“We should take a shower,” he laughs.

“Yeah, you’re… well…all over me…but to be honest, I like it.”

He smiles widely “Come on little finch, I might have another gift for you in the bathroom”

“Oh, then I can’t wait to unwrap it”

[chaifootsteps]

Bit of a quick rewrite of Stella and Andrealphus' conversation from "western energy", featuring caring mom Stella. This also has more leaning into Andrealphus abusing Stella, though not outright said.

“Hiring an assassin won’t turn out well for you.”

Stella rolled her eyes, sipping her tea as Andrealphus spoke. She knew this would happen upon telling her pain in the tail brother about Striker and the assassination attempt on Stolas. That pathetic man had not only cheated on her, but was using Octavia’s inheritance as a leverage over the imp who was being forced to fornicate with him. In the swan’s eyes, killing him meant more to her than whatever she could gain by dragging out a divorce.

“Afterall, you’ve already produced an heir.” Andrealphus continued. “When Stolas dies, his possessions, his duties, his legions, it will all go to… Via.”

“Isn’t that what was going to happen anyway?” Stella asked, once again annoyed with her brother. “Octavia is our heir, not that that seems to matter much to Stolass.” She muttered the last part under her breath.

“Yes, but consider, you won’t get anything if his death happens prematurely.” Andrealphus explained, once again patronizing her. The way he talked to her, it made Stella feel like a child again, being scolded and treated as inferior simply because of her gender.

Once again, Stella rolled her eyes. It’s not like Via would simply get rid of her mother once she took Stolas’ place, but Andrealphus’ words did make her think. Stolas hadn’t even taught Octavia any spells, or anything about her duties as their heir, and that made the swan even angrier. The women of the Goetia were already deemed as nothing more than heir makers, forced to marry more influential and powerful men and then be used as eye candy or tossed aside for their next side piece.

If Octavia took the throne now, without knowing anything about her duties, or powers or spells? It would be a disaster. The other Goetia would deem her as an ‘incompetent woman’ and the poor dear would be forced into an arranged marriage, to someone else who’d take everything that was supposed to be Octavia’s birthright. She would go down as a laughing stock among the nobility, despite it being Stolas’ job to teach her these things in the first place!

“My fiery vixen, we have an opportunity here.”

Stella could see that look in Andrealphus’ eyes, the same one he had when he was going to use her for his own whims, abuse her simply because he could. Andrealphus had always wanted more power, more possessions and legions, and she knew he’d do anything to get it.

Including marrying Octavia.

Her grip on the teacup tightened, but she needed to remain calm. Despite her thoughts of clawing her brother’s eyes out, she needed time. She unfortunately needed Stolas alive, so he could hopefully get his head out of his cloaca and actually teach their daughter. Stella would not have Octavia forced into the same position she was, she wouldn’t allow it.

“You’re right.” She replied calmly, which seemed to shock Andrealphus. “I’ll call it off for now.”

The peacock cleared his throat, trying to get over his shock, which made Stella smile into her teacup. “Very good, I knew you’d see it my way, you saucy minx~” he said as he clapped his hands for a servant to bring them the phone.

His words made her skin crawl, but Stella would endure them for eternity if it meant keeping Octavia safe from him and the other Goetia. Octavia would have her own kingdom, with no one telling her what to do, or who to marry, or telling her she needed to produce an heir. Her daughter would not be reduced to a footnote in Goetia history, Stolas will teach her.

Even if Stella has to force him to.

Oh god, this one made my skin crawl and audibly had me saying "No, no," which is more of a reaction than HB has gotten out of me in years. But fuck yes to protective Stella hating her brother, the Goetia family, and the system that did this to her just a little more than she hates Stolas.

Well done, Anon.

[salmalin]

Fruhtrane's Prayer

Did anyone else who watched AoaB episode 26 way too many times notice something... interesting about the prayer in the scene when they replenish the earth?

The first time, Shikikoza (also spelled Shikikooza and Schicicoza depending on your source) is the one to recite the prayer. Obviously his mana isn't sufficient. (He canonically has less mana than even the lowest-rung med-nobles.) However, I'd like to highlight two things about the prayer, and then what they mean together.

Spoilers for literally the entire series.

Part One: Where Shikikoza Stops

Oh Fruhtrane, Goddess of Water Bringer of Healing and Upheaval And the twelve disciples who serve her Heart my prayer and grant me your holy powers

After the Trombe battle, Shikikoza begins this prayer. At this point the earth begins to heal around the staff of Fruhtrane. Things are going well. As expected, really.

Then, as he begins the next line, he begins to lose his composure.

Why is this important? Because Shikikoza just asked Fruhtrane for something. More specifically, he asked her for her blessing. This is exactly the moment he begins to falter. This is when it starts to get much worse.

The next verse:

Your sister has been hurt by the minions of evil Grant me the strength to heal Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth

He grimaces through the first line, struggles just to get the second line out, then has to stop the spell. He's sagging against the staff, visibly keeping it to remain upright. He has no strength left. This is curious because he just asked for strength. He is literally requesting that the goddess of healing, fortune, and change to bless him with strength, which he then immediately loses.

But that's just mana exhaustion, right? No big deal. That's a canon thing that happens.

But here's the thing.

Shikikoza should have been doing lots of these rituals as a Blue Priest. He should have been praying regularly. He then went to the academy and got his schtappe. He knows his limits. And his limits have only increased since he spent time as a priest. Just the fact that he's allowed to learn mana compression should tell you a lot about his progression. Still, isn't it strange that he can't even make it through the chant? It's one thing to faint at the end—it's another to not even make it through the first stanza with shitty results to show for it.

"But Sal," you might say, "a superior is asking him to basically use his mana until he collapses. Ferdinand knew this would happen. He literally called Shikikoza her foil. He planned this." Of course he did. Ferdinand plans everything. Do you expect anything less from the Lord of Evil? But at the same time, don't you find it interesting that the context within this context is that Shikikoza is asking Fruhtrane, the Goddess of Healing and Upheaval, for a favor?

We very rarely see other people fail to finish a spell in this series. Usually they're just exhausted by it or the effects are pitiful. This event actually stands apart as extra pathetic, in terms of mana efficiency and quantity. Did he know that Shikikoza would be unable to finish the prayer? Shikikoza's reserves of mana would have probably doubled since his time at school, due to his growth period and regular duties in the military. The Ferdinand we know would have accounted for this.

This may be why he was so frustrated when Myne did such an incredible job replenishing the earth. Yes, he was frustrated because it made her a target for the nobility. The disparity was ridiculous, which definitely made many of them consider trapping Myne in a contract to be a (baby maker) concubine. He did not intend for her to show off such a clear difference in mana. This is canon.

And here's the thing.

I don't think he just expected Myne to do less.

I think he also expected Shikikoza to do more.

Yes, Myne has an abundance of mana. But she's never really used it. Her control is gonna be iffy, and her ability to manifest the effects of the prayers should be sub-par, at best. Meanwhile Shikikoza is a noble who went to the academy and spent time in the church. He knows how to use mana. He knows how to implement it and perform prayers. Shikikoza is literally in his element, and Myne can't stop gasping at every little thing. She only performed her first blessing like twenty minutes ago.

But then this happens.

What was once a sad circle of thin grass surrounded by dirt becomes a lush crater filled with green so quickly I had to try several times to get the screenshots. Myne restores the land fully within seconds with a show of power none of the men there had likely witnessed from anyone besides Ferdinand and Bonifatius—characters who are literally in a league of their own. And this is a child.

This is not a level of power a child should have, period. That doesn't even touch on the topic of control. Ferdinand outright says he did not predict this.

Now, stepping back for a second, Shikikoza asked Fruhtrane for a favor. Ask yourself this little question for me: If you were Fruhtrane, would you do someone like Shikikoza a solid?

Mana isn't the only factor when it comes to channeling spells and prayers. The more you pray to these gods—and, more importantly embody their ideals—the easier the spells/prayers under their jurisdiction can be performed. Sometimes you don't even need to pray to them—they will see your deeds and give you their blessing regardless. Furthermore, we later find out that there are ways to lose favor with the gods. This makes magic and prayers in their jurisdiction less efficient and thus more difficult to use.

Now, we learn a lot of things about Shikikoza very quickly in episode 25. First, he is a man who enforces the status quo by actively taking advantage of his rank, to the point where he attacks a commoner who is under his protection simply because said commoner was granted a position reserved for nobility—a position he once held. He wants to show Myne that she is not his equal. Opposing change is in direct opposition of Fruhtrane's jurisdiction of "upheaval". He also draws a knife on a little girl and threatens to gouge her eyes out, which doesn't quite fall in line with "healing", either. Does this mean I'm implying Fruhtrane was hate watching the Shikikoza channel even though he wasn't praying to her, and that he lost her favor/blessing in this moment?

No.

Instead, there's a good chance she's been watching Myne.

Myne had been giving the greeting of the goddess of water for a while as a merchant. This is canonically part of a prayer. Prayers direct the eyes of the gods your way. (Myne also is canonically referred to as Benno's "goddess of water".) I wouldn't be surprised if the goddess saw the entire exchange during the Trombe fight. Especially since it's canon that Myne is the truest believer in the Gods and is one of the extremely few people who actually knows they're real. Her prayers may be the only ones properly reaching the gods. (She takes one look at magic and basically goes, "Full stop, gods are real.")

it is later explicitly established in canon that Myne is the only person who earnestly prays to the gods even when "reciting a spell". And it's not just the voice acting in the anime that makes me think that. (Shikikoza is reciting the prayer like he's trying to get through reading a line he doesn't like in class, while Myne uses inflection like she's speaking in a play.) Later in the series, literally everyone has no idea why Myne is releasing blessings while playing music related to the gods. This is considered so extreme that they're able to market her as a saint. It's one thing to only be earnest when asking for one specific thing in private (Sylvester when he was pursuing Florencia), but it's another thing entirely to actively acknowledge the presence of the gods in every aspect of the world around you. Myne is essentially a devout follower surrounded by uninterested skeptics.

(Ferdinand, by contrast, is an atheist. Not because he doesn't believe in them, but because he doesn't think they deserve to be worshiped. It's a trait he has in common with Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist. Coincidentally, they also both speak with god, tell god to shove it where the sun don't shine, then strike a deal to get the body of the most important person in their life back. Oh—and they have absent fathers who yeah, might have loved him, but whose lack of action in their life leads to extreme bodily harm at a young age due to complications involving their mother. Do with this information what you will.)

To wrap up this part, I don't think Ferdinand anticipated just how badly Shikikoza had pissed Fruhtrane off, and had no idea how favored Myne was by said goddess. (At one point Myne even feels the presence of the goddess of wind while on a hunt for ingredients. I will never let that go. That was so cool.) Both of these things widened the gap even further when it came to performing the ceremony. I like that they also did this slowly. The first ceremony involving a specific goddess we get is a goddess they've been mentioning since the beginning of the story—a goddess so in line with the main character's prerogative that the main character is referred to as her.

Now that we've gotten that info dump out of the way (this was supposed to be like three paragraphs, send help) let's move on to—

Part Two: The Full Prayer

Oh Fruhtrane, Goddess of Water Bringer of Healing and Upheaval And the twelve disciples who serve her Hear my prayer and grant me your holy powers Your sister has been hurt by the minions of evil Grant me the strength to heal Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth In return, I offer you a sacred melody Unleash your supreme waves and offer your pure protection For as far as I seek, cover these lands in your hues

So I realized a few days ago that this prayer is a summary of the events in Bookworm.

Read it again and you'll get it.

Oh Fruhtrane, Goddess of Water Bringer of Healing and Upheaval

Urano appears as Myne, introducing technologies that are foreign to this world. She brings wealth to everyone around her and fortune to the people dear to her. She changes status quos by just trying to exist as she is. All this despite trying to play by the rules. Things that were taken for granted are now up in the air. This doesn't even go into the themes of her upending every community she enters and healing wounds that never got a chance to heal. (Her mother's repeated miscarriages/infant deaths forcing their family to watch children die, Benno's desperation to recover financially after the death of his parents and the woman he loved, Frieda's complete and total isolation, Fran and Wilma's trauma from being sexually assaulted in the church, Gil and Lutz's very real worries about starvation, the orphanage, the relationships of the nobles around her, the fracturing factions looking for direction, literally every retainer she took in from an abusive family, Damuel's place in the world, Angelica's literal entire life no going down the drain, the financial ruin of Ehrenfest, the mana shortage resulting in an approaching mass-starvation— I need to STOP. This isn't even touching the surface!)

And the twelve disciples who serve her

She receives people who support her slowly over the course of the story. By the time she gets to the end of part two she has emotional connections to the following characters who support her:

Lutz, Effa, Tuuli, Gunter, Otto, Benno, Mark, Freida, Fran, Gil, Delia, and Ferdinand.

Hey, look, that's twelve people who directly make sure her health is monitored while having a direct impact on the world around her. What a coincidence.

Hear my prayer and grant me your holy powers

Trust me bro, she hears you. But the lore basically explodes. Mana compression, the truth of the prayers, the truth of the gods. Myne is a busy little bee. Myne figures out how to get their prayers through to the gods at all. This line is doing a lot of heavy lifting. But also it implies that Myne finally has access to magic.

Your sister has been hurt by the minions of evil

Her family is attacked. She is attacked. But most of all, she realizes the whole world is crumbling around her, piece by piece. But more on that later. The point is that Myne is continually under fire until the person closest to her is taken and injured.

Yeah, it's Ferdinand, of course it is.

Grant me the strength to heal Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth

Okay so we've got another line doing a lot of heavy lifting. It's outright saying her home was attacked and needs to be repaired. This can refer to her family, to the fractures in noble society forming between people that should be allies, and the fractures around Ferdinand himself. Each of these things she sets out to heal, even if indirectly or on accident. (See the rant about everyone she's helped.)

Ferdinand at one point directly points out Myne's Geduldh, asking how it is. But Myne doesn't know how to answer. Ferdinand, at this point, is convinced that her Geduldh is Ehrenfest. Originally it was her parents, then the people supporting her in the church, then slowly expanded to Ehrenfest. As Myne's story moves through different stages, her Geduldh shifts, and so does her attention and the healing she brings. When Ferdinand asks Myne this question, she doesn't know how to answer.

This is because, very clearly, her Geduldh is shifting from Ehrenfest... to Ferdinand.

Ferdinand is who she protects next.

In return, I offer you a sacred melody

A "sacred melody" for Myne is literally a prayer. She's saying she'll give the gods mana, power, and influence in exchange for the safety of those she loves. Which is literally what she does. Over and over again.

Unleash your supreme waves and offer your pure protection For as far as I seek, cover these lands in your hues

After receiving the favor of the gods, Myne protects her Geduldh time and time again. And as her Geduldh gets tangled up in more and more political scheming, the reach of the influence she offers the gods increases. Until, in exchange for Ferdinand's safety, she gives them the whole of the country. For as far as she sought—all the way to the sovereignty and the homes of their enemies, and even her own body—she spread the power and influence of the gods under the banner of a Saint.

(It could be argued that Myne follows these beats with every single part—1 through 5—beat for beat. And honestly yeah, that's a big part of why I freaked out and wrote this stupidly long post.)

Part Three: The Symbolism Behind This Choice

Back to the beginning, the words Shikikoza and Myne were each about to speak are very telling.

Shikikoza makes it this far:

Oh Fruhtrane, Goddess of Water Bringer of Healing and Upheaval And the twelve disciples who serve her Hear my prayer and grant me your holy powers Your sister has been hurt by the minions of evil

This is where Shikikoza stops.

This is where Shikikoza stops because the nobility have been seeking the favor and power of the gods while giving nothing in return. They see their home has been hurt and are watching their world crumble because it doesn't even occur to them to upset the status quo. Unless, of course, they plan to commit mass murder. (Which is a violation of the half.) The nobles neglect their churches, kill their own people in large swathes, and abandon the gods while still demanding power from them so they can play their petty political games. Even those who mean well cannot break from the cycle. They refuse to unheave the system their lives are built on.

But Myne finishes the prayer where Shikikoza—where the rest of the nobles—could not.

Grant me the strength to heal Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth In return, I offer you a sacred melody Unleash your supreme waves and offer your pure protection For as far as I seek, cover these lands in your hues

Myne brings the gods back. She makes no demands with nothing to offer in return. It is an exchange. What's more, she fills the roles the nobility has been neglecting for so long. She sets out and heals the world, to the point where her final major act in the books is a country-wide healing spell to revitalize the land. To the very end, Myne prioritizes the health and safety of people, unknowingly filling her role of saint flawlessly, and literally covering the land in Fruhtrane's hues. Everything that happens after that...

Well, that's the epilogue.

Shikikoza cannot finish the prayer because he is not earnest in performing it.

Myne finishes the prayer because she understands you cannot grab everything forcefully from the world around you without giving anything back. She is a merchant. She knows everything has a price.

And she pays it.

I have this thing I say about Bookworm—that Ferdinand is technically the main character. That his mana, intelligence, etc. makes him the main character. And because he accidentally dyes Myne's mana as his own, and because that's a thing usually reserved for marriage, I have an even weirder joke where I say he basically gave her Main Character Syndrome like a sexually transmitted disease. (Taking this series even one degree out of context makes it hilarious. I highly recommend it.)

But here's the thing.

Ferdinand had all the qualities of a main character except for the one he needed. He was trapped in the same spiral as every other noble. He couldn't comprehend that things could be different. Even though he knew they had once been, he couldn't see their world changing, even if he had the ability. He, too, was afraid to upheave the system. He knew things were breaking, but he decided to hide. He was afraid, tired, and wanted to do what he loved where he could minimize his anguish. He saw no future for himself out in the open.

Ultimately, like the rest of the world, he had no hope for change. Not just for the world, but for himself. He saw no future for himself where he could safely eat, or relax with friends, or be emotionally open, or even have someone whom he could afford to love, let alone love safely...

... until this little shit came along.

And she gave him, very literally, a new perspective—the perspective of another world. She gave him options. She gave him safety. She gave him comfort. She gave him kindness. She gave him trust. She gave him love.

And, very slowly, like everyone else she had met, she gave him hope.

Very underrated thing, hope.

Because without hope, no one will take the first step to make change. The world will crumble around you, and you will do nothing, because why would you? It's all gonna go to hell, anyways.

But it doesn't have to.

And that's worth fighting for.

Thanks for making it this far. It's nice to have company in hell.

[dykedvonte]

Silly ask incoming: what video games would the crew enjoy, in your opinion? Especialy, multiplayer games they can play together on their rare breaks? I think Anya eats everyone up in mario cart (she is picking princess peach probably)

-💀

Okay so I know everyone always tries to do cop out answers with saying "They wouldn't play video games yadda yadda" but I'm giving everyone something:

Curly

I think he likes those mindless sort of games. Not like easy but ones where they are a bit methodical.

Likes games with options but also set rules/restrictions. Endless creativity would overwhelm him and make him frustrated as he wouldn't know what to do and when

Honestly? Sims, minecraft, stardew, terria, games where there's options but at the end its like an inverted funnel. Start the same each time but you make it what you want in the end.

I also think he'd love VR type games like Super Hot and Beat saber just for the physicalness and kinda not having to be in reality.

Not into multiplayer too much mainly cause he's actually not that competitive but because he always drags out matches by being the worst

Will happily join a server or world in the games he does play even if it gets abandoned. He's the type to log on for notalgia

Daisuke

We know he's a gamer already. QnA said he likes to go to the arcade and waste time losing.

Also has his little handheld so I think he's into retro games, no specific type just likes how creative they are for how simple they tend to look

Def likes management games. I see him as being into figuring out pro strats and gamer shit like that.

Pikmin, Katamari, Resident Evil, Crash Bandicoot, Spyro, etc... He likes the older stuff with a challenge, but proponent in wanting games to be mean to you again.

Gamer rage but in a sulky way like he misses a jump and just turns off the entire TV

A Mario Party instead of Mario Kart guy. Like the random chance of it all and to get aggressive and hype over like line tracing the mini game

Anya

And if I said Anya is like a strict multiplayer competitive like COD lobby girl then what?

Honestly I think she likes games with a lot of story and depth but has guilty pleasures in FPS and competitive games.

Like those RPG maker games a lot Mermaids Swamp, The Crooked Man, Ai Oni. Not for the horror, its a bit cliche but often time its the real people monsters or tragedy that captivates her.

Me thinks she's the type to scroll like Itchio or Game Jolt and plays whatever's free and looks interesting, gamer in the way she's just played games.

Ofc she's competitive, likes any game where she can show off or win, so she's always upset during chance games. Sorry girl, Daisuke won the draw no mario kart for you

Though I think her favorite would be like fighting games just to have subtle shit talk like "Are you sure you're not just button mashing?" Tekken Girlie

Swansea

This was hard cause like I genuinely think he wouldn't care about games and just plays them in the way like parents beat levels for their kids.

Platformers. Idk why but I think its just like its good hand eye coordination, keeps him feeling spry mentally.

Rhythm games honestly but in the sense of like how like piano tiles is a rhythm game.

He's like basic older man who plays like bejweled, solitaire, maybe even penguin diner.

I know this is almost a cop out but like I can't imagine him like being into gaming even if he was young, like I think he'd like card games, jacks and dice.

Honestly he plays online dominos vs the computer online and complains to his family or the crew (depends on where he is) about it cheating whenever he loses.

Jimmy

For real he's harder than Swansea's cause man doesn't even have hobbies like I don't know what he would actually like and it scares me

I think he's somewhat elitist with his gaming views because he just always thinks he's write but I know he plays everything the bad way

Honestly I think he likes games like Borderlands for the humor and the like fantasy power. Like Handsome Jack's humor a bit too much

Played Halo and Cod but either is so mid it's just not enjoyable enough for him to continue. Like he needs the instant gratification from gaming or he's not playing it anymore

Maybe GTA but again he annoys too many people and gets banned from servers and doesn't care about story mode.

LIkes the sims but in the fucked up girl way where he makes all the sims like live in his basement and paint for him while he get mad over storylines he made up.

I like think they all play monopoly like my family where it takes days because we treat it like real investments and alliances are formed and relationships ruined.