#and then i got to the third time fighting him + the flashback and like. hear me out ok

[aibafiles]

i have begun to suspect that the question is not "where is zagreus" but rather "when is zagreus"

[sunrizef1]

August Part 2 - September

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader, Mason Mount x Reader

Warnings: none

Requested: Yes!/No

Authors Note: part 1 was supposed to be the only part but damn y'all rly wanted a part 2 | Charles is winning the poll as I post this I will provide proof don't fight me

Part 1

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ynln

🎵Superglue - ROLE MODEL

liked by lando sabrinacarpenter and 3,777,101 others

ynln a lil bit of superglue, stick by my side

tagged: zendaya masonmount championsleague judebellingham liverpoolfc rolemodel & carmenmundt

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user1 cute asf

rolemodel its crazy how ur just so obsessed with me

ynln I'm deleting that picture

rolemodel :(

user2 all my favs in one post

lando this is a photo dump and I've seen you in the past two weeks how am I not in this

user3 missing the f1 days 😔✊

user4 Jude!!!!!

user5 amazing how Tucker is just everywhere

user6 love this aesthetic

user7 sorry???? Can we talk about Carmen being tagged on the last slide????

user8 right like what does that mean

user9 these divas

judebellingham if Madrid isn't ur favourite why am I in every post

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user10 why does every person she takes a picture of look at her like they're in love with her

user11 id be in love with her too tf

user12 sue me but I prefer Yn with football than f1

user13 this is so adorable

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ynln

🎵 the one - Taylor Swift

liked by carmenmundt lando and 3,444,879 others

ynln I'm doin’ good I'm on some new shit

tagged: judebellingham logansargeant masonmount & lewishamilton

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user14 oh this is adorable

user15 the song????

user16 it would've been fun if you would've been the one????

rolemodel why am I not in this

ynln get out of my comments

user17 LEWIS??????

user18 is that Logan???? What the hell????

user19 soft launch???

user20 the flowers wrapped in newspaper…. Oh someone is into herrrrr

lewishamilton that's a damn good picture of me

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user21 the Polaroids are so cute

user22 bf core 🤩

user23 her friends are so fun and they have such a cute bond wth

judebellingham ew why does it look like I'm in love with you delete this

ynln delete yourself that's the nicest you've ever been to me

user24 can we revisit the Logan mention????

user25 is this her reconnecting with f1….

user26 Lewis 🤩

user27 this is a soft launch! 🤔

user28 so do we all agree that Charles is the person yn was talking about in the roundtable

user29 had to have been him

user29 he was definitely August boy as well

user30 right cuz the vacations and soft launches being at the exact same time and with the aesthetics

user30 and the fact that Charles got right back with his gf after summer and yn keeps posting August by Ts.… ik what this is

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ynln

🎵 August - Taylor Swift

liked by charles_leclerc masonmount and 4,555,077 others

ynln its august again

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user31 this feels important

user32 ooh aesthetic

user33 Europe?? In August??? I'm getting flashbacks

user34 ohhh I'm getting memories of this time last year

user35 August is slipping back

rolemodel i know what this is

ynln if the comments on this post go away just know it was your fault

user36 who took slide two.

user37 that third picture is so pretty

user38 personally I'm looking at the second one 🤩

user39 her including the song that she took lyrics from after her and Charles broke up is so important to me

user40 love that we've just decided that that's what happened

user41 god the lighting in these pics is insane 😫🫶

masonmount 🫶🏻

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user42 her saying that's its August again which means she's back to what last August was like with Charles 😫

user43 how are the comments still on 😭

lando text me back

ynln no

user44 I can't handle this

user45 I'm going to lose it 🤩

zendaya 😚

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user46 Charles liked this

sabrinacarpenter I'm in love with you

ynln 😫🫶

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maxverstappen1

come interview me 😁

ynln

Fine lol

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ynln

🎵 September - Earth, Wind, and Fire

liked by charles_leclerc zendaya and 6,578,999 others

ynln do you remember? The 21st night of September?

tagged: charles_leclerc

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user47 OMG?????!!!!

rolemodel thank GOD!

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user47 Charles?????

judebellingham FINALLY

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user48 I've never been so happy

lando took you long enough

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user49 we used to pray for times like this

zendaya only took 13 whole months

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user50 omg just a hard launch now

user51 no more of that vague-posting bs

maxverstappen1 oh yay

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user52 max being nonchalant I cant

carmenmundt congratulations!

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ynln love you 🫶

user53 do you remember….? The 21st (7th) night of September?

user54 using September (a song about love) after using August (a song about lost love) ooh what if I go insane

lewishamilton 🫶

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ynln 🫶

user55 even the hard launch is aesthetic

user56 this post is so pretty

user57 the red piano 😭

dualipa happy for you 💕

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user58 yn!!!!!!

charles_leclerc only blue talk and love, remember

ynln how we knew love was here to stay…

charles_leclerc ❤️

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ynln ❤️💋

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Tags: @star73807-blog @leclerc16s @jkoooooooookie @imagine-it-was-us @weekendlusting @linnygirl09 @sarah-thatstings-ann @putherup @meadhbhcavanagh @luvrrish @suns3treading @lightdragonrayne @mxm47max @casperlikej @evie-119

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Light's Chapter 431

Brief summary: CJG talks more with Cale. Cale begins the search for CJS and Sui.

==========

We learned more about what a transcendent was.

A transcendent is a being who is literally beyond everything. Not a god, but a godlike being, unbound by the constraints of any name.

The kind of god you are is quite important. For example, a god of death is very powerful in death, but is somewhat limited in other areas, because there are gods in other areas, so there are many limitations.

But the transcendent is not bound by constraints, so it can be thought of as more free than god, perhaps even untouchable. Of course, since the transcendent is more free than god, it is very difficult to reach that point, and few people know it.

It was the Third Emperor of the Five-Colored Bloods who fought CJG, and CJG described that hunter as very strong and on the level of a god. Their fight got interrupted when the GoC saint and people from the Transparent Bloods came. GoC saint fought CJG then before he got rescued by Aurora.

CJG's various reactions were funny. 😂 Like when he was trying to reveal info and Cale would say he already knew, so CJG said"huh?" multiple times. 😂😂😂 Or how Cale continuously hurried him to talk even though CJG was grumbling that he had just woken up. 😂😂😂

Choi Jung Gun looked at Cale. Then he said, “You're smart.” He gave him a thumbs up. Cale's face crumpled into a murderous grimace. A moment when Choi Jung Soo looked silly in a serious situation. Cale couldn't help but react to Choi Jung Gun's behavior that reminded him of that moment. “Don't be silly, say it quickly.” “Uh, yeah!” And Choi Jung Gun was a good listener. Unlike Choi Jung Soo, he was not mischievous and followed Cale's instructions as obediently as Choi Han.

So CJG was like a mix of CJS and CH? 😂😂😂

Cale: *gets annoyed at the info he learned about the hunters* Cale: (Can't they just leave me alone? I want to flip everything over!) SEW: Let's flip it over? DA: Haha! Let's rule over the gods! Cale: *forgets his annoyance* Cale: ... Cale: (These ancient powers. They're crazy. Let's not be swayed by them.)

Cale's annoyance disappearing because of the crazy APs. 🤣🤣🤣

Regarding the child, Cale replied that he did not know if the child was evil because he had not met them. The child had seven worlds inside them, represented by the seven emotions. A person could become a god's vessel with just one world inside them, but that child had seven, something that a human couldn't do.

So that child lost their own emotions to survive and acted on instinct. In particular, their appetite became strong. CJG said that the child could not become a god if they acted on instinct and not emotion, but at the same time, it would make the child the perfect god too. Or more like the perfect puppet for the hunters.

Regardless, Cale's conversation with CJG felt like 🚩flags for Cale. That he would adopt that child, and that he would become the first transcendent instead of the first wanderer. 😂

CH's talk with CJG was not expressed in detail. Perhaps a flashback would handle that. Cale divided the group into two: CH and HD would find CJS, and Cale, the kids, and Clopeh would find Sui. Clopeh's constant happy laughing made Cale hesitate if he should just go alone though. 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks I'm glad that the talk with CJG was not interrupted. Sure, it was rushed because they had to find the Soos, but at least it was not delayed for the nth time like the talk with the Molans. 😂 Next chapter would be the search for Sui. I'm looking forward to what Clopeh would do soon. 🤣

[writtenbyan-aries]

need a soul crushing colby angst

maybe seeing him again after a breakup and hes like so indifferent and nonchalant while reader is going nuts

∶ Summary: anon sums it up

∶ Warnings: angst, wine, breakup flashbacks, upset reader, ex!Colby, quick talk of depression, kind of a fluff end

∶ Word Count: 3.2k

I wanted to incorporate a song into this and Haunted was the first one that popped into my head because the lyrics instantly gave me ideas - enjoy!

────────── •✧✧• ──────────

For the last three years, you’ve given Colby everything you had to offer. All of your love, time, effort. He got it all. You spent each free moment you had with each other. Went to sleep together. Woke up together. Had breakfast, lunch, dinner together.

Everything. You didn’t think you’d ever live to see what you had with him break.

You were so blindsided by the breakup, that when it happened, it sent you through all the stages of grief.

Denial - For weeks, you kept telling yourself it’s not over. There’s no way it’s over. He’s not gone, he can’t be gone. Telling yourself, your closest friends that he just needs a break, he’ll come back. There’s no way he won’t come back. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that three years was just gone, like it didn’t matter. You kept texting him, asking him to talk more about why he did it, asking him if it’s really over, and you just got the same response back, silence. That then pushed you into the second stage of grief.

Anger - You were angry that he didn’t answer. Angry that he didn’t give you any closure that you felt like you desperately needed. Angry that he could just drop you like you meant nothing. You let him hear it, too. Even if he didn’t respond, you gave him a peace of your mind. You ultimately moved into being angry with yourself, wondering if you could have put up a harder fight for him, and that led you into the third stage.

Bargaining - You became sad all over again, rethinking everything. You kept thinking, what if I had done more and what if we’re only meant to be just friends. You thought you had it all figure out, him all figured out. If you just give him time he’ll come back. But, over time, you felt a huge sense of guiltiness wash over and drown you in his place, leading you into the fourth stage.

Depression - You haven’t left your house in few weeks. Ordered in. Rotted on the couch and in your bed. It took your best friend coming over to tell you that you needed a shower for you to actually get up and get one. You were drowning, feeling like something’s gone terribly wrong. You felt like you had been shattered into a million tiny pieces, and no matter how much ‘glue’ you had, nothing made them stick together. Just when you thought you were getting better, you fell apart all over again. Wanting to text him, talk to him, hear his voice, but knowing he wouldn’t even give you that, hurt you even more. Eventually, with the help of your friends and their pep talks, you gradually floated into the final stage.

Acceptance - It took a few months, but you finally got to a place to where you didn’t cry when you thought about him, or when you seen something that reminded you of him. You were finally starting to feel like yourself again. You avoided looking in your camera roll because you just didn’t have deleting all of your photos in you yet, so you left them go. But you managed. You left your house, accepting the fact that you were a single, semi-healed girl, and staying in the house wasn’t going to help.

It’s been six months since the day you and Colby broke up. Four months of those six, weren’t spent dwelling and laying in a pool of self pity, but the last two you spent focusing on yourself, coping and moving forward.

You were actually feeling pretty good. You had heard through the grape vine that Colby was seeing someone new, but you tried not to let it get to you, no matter how haunted by him you felt.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?”

You gave your best friend, Leah, a confused look, “I’m fine? Why?” You set your phone down and turn towards her. She shakes her head, “No reason, I just- you have your first date with Noah tonight, and I’m just making sure you didn’t have the jitters.”

“I’m good, Leah. I promise. Noah and I have been talking for a few weeks, and it seems to be going well. I told him I wanted to take things slow, and tonight just feels like the right time to actually take things public.”

“Does he know you used to date the Colby Brock?” She raises her brows and you scoff, “That shouldn’t have anything to do with my future. Clearly, Colby wanted to stay in the past, so. Why should I care?”

“I’m just saying, Colby is-“

“Enough about Colby, Leah.” You take a deep breath, “I’m over him. I got myself all healed and glued back together, I don’t understand why-“ you pause and Leah tilts her head, “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“I have to be.” You could feel your eyes burn, but you fight back the tears, “I have to be. Colby moved on, so it’s time for me to as well.”

“Noah is really sweet.” She gives you a soft smile, “I just don’t want you hurting him, or yourself, by rushing into something you’re not fully ready for.”

You shake your head, “I like Noah. Noah.. he’s good for me.”

She smiles, “What time is your date?”

“Picking me up at six, then he said about going to the beach, taking a walk along the shore.” You feel your cheeks grow warm, “It’s new. It’s a clean slate.”

She nods, “Let me know how it goes.”

────────── •✧✧• ──────────

Noah knock on your door and led you down to his car like a gentleman.

The car ride to the restaurant was subtle, full of small talk and him telling you how beautiful you looked.

You felt good, but there was still a little part in you that held onto Colby. More so, you weren’t able to trust anything now, because of what he did to you.

You swallowed, pushing down the thoughts that creeped in and gave Noah a smile, “Have you ever been to this place before?”

He nods, “When my family comes to visit, my mom always takes us here. It’s one of her favorite spots, and mine.” He chuckles, “The food is phenomenal.”

“That’s good, I don’t think I’ve ever been to this place before. I was googling it before you came to get me, it looks fancy.” You glance down at your dress, “I hope I dressed up enough.”

“You dressed perfect.” He smiles, “We should be, ah.” He points, “Here we are.”

Your eyes can over the building. It looked rich.

“Wow. This place looks expensive just by the architecture.” You laugh, “Are you sure you-“

“I’m sure. You deserve a place like this.” He smiles, unbuckling to get out. He walks around, opening up your door. You take his hand as you get out, smoothing your other hand down over your dress.

As you’re walking through the parking lot, your heart sinks as you see a familiar looking car, but as you grow closer, it’s not who you think it is.

You let out a relieved sigh and give Noah’s hand a squeeze. He smiles and opens the door, “After you.” He motions and you nod, “Thank you.” You smile as you walk in, coming to a stop at the host stand.

“Good evening.” The gentleman smiles, “Name for the reservation, please.”

“Reynard. Noah Reynard.”

“Perfect. If you will follow me this way.”

Noah takes your hand and walks with you through the restaurant, stopping at the table, “Thank you.” He smiles at the host and moves to pull your chair out, “Here we go.”

You sit down and help him move your chair in towards the table, “Thank you.” He nods, “My pleasure.” He smiles as he sits down and the host nods, “Your waiter will be with you in just a moment.”

“Thank you.” You give the host a smile and look back at Noah, “What’s good here?”

“Everything.” He chuckles, “I usually go for the lobster and foie gras, but I can guarantee you that no matter what you get, you’ll like.”

“Hmm.” You look down over the menu, “Well see.” You smile as you glance up at him and he raises his brows, “Oh, I see you have accepted the challenge.”

You shrug, “I guess I have.” You laugh and let out a sigh as you continue perusing the menu.

A little bit later, after placing your orders and downing a glass of wine, you were in the middle of talking about where you both grew up.

As you were listening to Noah, someone in the corner of your eye, caught your attention.

Internal panic sets ablaze. You realize you were staring at Noah, but you weren’t listening, “Sorry.” You laugh, “I um, what did you say?”

“I just said that I grew up in Dallas, but moved here when I turned eighteen.” He smiles, “Have you ever been to Dallas?”

You shake your head, “No, I haven’t. But isn’t the saying, um, everything is bigger in Texas?”

“Yeah, yeah they do.” He nods with a laugh, “You said you grew up in Virginia?” You nod, “Yeah, pretty much the same story with you. Well, only the states are different.”

“I knew I’ve always wanted to come to LA, it’s always been a dream of mine to live where there’s sunshine and palm trees.” He smiles, “To think, if we never moved here, we probably would have never met.”

You smile, trying to hold it as you see Colby and his date walk behind the host across the restaurant to a table, his seat, directly in line with your view.

“Yeah, it’s, um.” You laugh, “It’s crazy how the universe works, is the waiter coming back?” You finish your glass of wine, “I need another drink.”

“Yeah, he should be coming back any- oh, here he is.” Noah moves his napkin out of the way and you do the same, laying it on your lap. You smooth out the fabric a few times, taking quick breaths as you try and settle the now full inferno inside of you.

What are the odds of seeing Colby for the first time some the breaking while you’re on a first date with someone new?

Slim to none, you’d think.

“Y/n?”

You look up, Noah staring at you, “Huh?” He laughs slightly, “Another glass of wine, you said?” You nod, looking up at the waiter, “Oh, yes, yes please.” You swallow, “I’m actually- I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick, wash my hands before I, uh, dig in.”

“Are you okay?” Noah furrows his brows and you nod, “Yes.” Your face turns into confusion, “Why?”

He shrugs, “You just seem nervous all of a sudden, I hope I wasn’t laying it on too thick, I know you said you wanted to take things slow.”

“I’m good.” You give him a smile, “Just going to wash my hands really fast.”

You get up, keeping your head down, but as soon as you look up, Colby’s eyes are already on you, and they’re cold.

Just his look alone sent you right back to the day he left.

“No, come on, come on, Colby. Don’t leave me like this.” You sob, “Please, you’re all I want, p-please. We can- we can work this out, please. Colby, I can’t- I can’t do this.”

“It’s for the best, y/n. We can’t- you want more in life, and you can’t get that if I’m not ready.” He runs a hand through his hair, eyes glistening as he locks them onto yours.

“I-I love you, Colby. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. You’re- you’re the best thing that’s ever h-happened to me, I can’t just move on from this, I can’t, I won’t.” You shake your head, walking up to him, “Please. Don’t leave me like this, please, Colby.”

You stood there, watching him, figuratively, walk further and further away from everything you had. His eyes growing colder and colder with each second, almost like he’s making himself not have a choice with doing this.

Your head pounding more and more with each sob, “Colby-“ your voice breaks, “Please don’t do this.” You gasp for air, “What went terribly wrong? We’re all we’ve ever wanted, I don’t-“

“I just know, that right now, doing this will benefit us both.” He closes his eyes, quickly wiping a stray tear away, “I love you, and with that, I need to let you go.”

Your lip quivers as the sobs start all over again, your hands moving to cover your face as you gasp for air. The sound of the door shutting sends you into a full on breakdown.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe with him being gone.

You thought you had it all figured out, but you were wrong. You thought you were good, fine without him. You thought that being with someone else would help, but seeing Colby sit there, with another girl, acting so nonchalant and like he didn’t rip your heart out six months ago makes you feel sick.

You felt like you were spiraling out of control, standing in the bathroom, holding your breath as you try not to let the feelings of six months ago take over.

You were trying so hard not to lose it all over again, and the fact that you had to go out there and act like everything was fine made it all worse.

You calm yourself down, slowly reaching for the lock and twisting it. You move to the mirror, leaning in to make sure your makeup isn’t out of place.

As you turn, the girl Colby is at dinner with, walks through the door. She gives you a small smile and you just stare at her, moving your eyes down to the floor.

She was beautiful.

You swallow, taking a deep breath before walking back out to Noah.

“I thought I was going to have to send in a search and rescue team.” Noah jokes, “seriously, though. Are you okay?”

You nod, grabbing your glass and taking a sip, “I’m perfect.” You smile, fully acting like you aren’t going nuts on the inside, “This look delicious.” You look at your plate and Noah nods, “So, let’s see if I was right.”

“Oh, right.” You laugh, “Yes.” You cut off a piece of your food and take a bite. Your eyes go wide, “Oh, you were right.” You hum lowly, “This is delicious, my god.”

The whole time you were eating, especially before Colby’s date came back, his eyes were on you. Watching your every move, listening to every fake laugh that slipped from your lips.

As dinner came to a close, you motioned, “all of this wine in going right through me.” You laugh, “Do you want me to-“

“I got it. You go, I’ll meet you back here.” Noah smiles, “That beach walk is calling our names, I can hear it.”

You smile, “that’s what I’m most excited about.”

He scoffs, “Well if I would have known that, I wouldn’t have taken a loan out to pay for dinner.” Your jaw drops and he laughs, “I’m joking, I can pay for this all on my own.”

You let out a sigh, “Jokster, I see.” You smile, “I’ll be right back.” You get up, avoiding Colby as you walk by, entering the bathroom.

You walk into the stall, doing what you need to do, and stand up, walking out to the sink. As you’re washing your hands, you stare at yourself in the mirror, taking a few calming breathes as you try to push Colby from your head.

You straighten up, letting out a sigh and walking to dry your hands. As soon as you open the door, you stop, your heart dropping into your stomach as you see Colby standing there.

“I don’t..” he turns, dropping his hands, “I don’t know why I’m here.”

“Aren’t you on a date?” You swallow, trying to keep the upper hand, “That’s what I’m doing here.”

“No i-“ he scoffs, “Yeah, I know that.” He clenches his jaw, “I just-“ he shakes his head and you sigh, “You and I are walking a fragile line here, Colby.”

“Yeah, I’ve known it all this time, as soon as I seen you sitting there with him.” He tilts his head, “I- you look good.”

“Thank you.” You look down, “I um, I have to-“

“Do you miss me?”

You stare at him, “Do I miss you?”

You scoff, “Colby, I-“ you shake your head, “Does it even matter? You seemed to move on rather quickly, sitting there, acting like seeing someone you once gave everything to doesn’t hurt you in the slightest.” You wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything, so you sigh, “but.. yeah, of course I do. I still mean every word I said to you.”

“I’m haunted by you.” He laughs slightly, “I still look for you in everyone I come across, I don’t-“ he shakes his head, “I don’t kn- I was so stupid to let you go.”

“But you did.” You tilt your head, “For months, I was a wreck, thinking I had you figured out, figuring out a way for us to make it work, but in the end, I was the one who looked stupid. Telling everyone that you had your reasons when I literally had no idea why you left, other than you thought I wanted more, but in reality, Colby. I wanted you. No matter what.”

His eyes fall to the floor, his head nods slowly, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?” You sniffle, “I just- I don’t need this. I don’t need you messing with my head, you did that enough when you first sat down at the table.”

You go to walk away but he grabs your hand, and sparks trickle up your arm, “Wait.” He pulls you in, “Tell me you’re happier with him.”

You stay quiet for a moment, your eyes staying on his hand in yours, “He might try to take my pain away and he might make me smile, but..” you look up at him, “the whole time, I’m wishing he was you instead.”

He nods, eyes bouncing from your lips to your eyes and you knew what was about to happen, but you pull away. You clear your throat, “I um..” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts.

“What?” Colby asks, “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

You shrug, taking a deep breath, “A part of me wants to know where we go from this, but then another part of me can’t trust anything now and I don’t want to keep holding onto nothing.” You look up at him and he nods, “Why don’t you just go back to your table, I’ll go back to mine, and then maybe..” he shrugs, “One of us is dumb enough to call the other later on.”

────────── •✧✧• ──────────

Thank you so much for reading! I love you so much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Like and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[ineedhaikyu]

Chapter One

Summary: How does Asahi find himself in these situations? He wasn’t the tough and scary guy everyone made him out to be. Why can’t someone just give him a chance? That’s what he thought until he met her…

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: So much FLUFF! Dealing with self-doubt and anxiety. I didn’t write Atsumu’s slang dialogue but maybe I’ll edit in the future.

A/N: My contribution to Asahi x Reader content. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEST BOY!! GIF credit to @akaashikoutarou

~

Today is the day. January 5th. Everyone’s hard work and determination will be put to the test on this day. A day where volleyball teams from all over Japan, the best from each prefecture, will meet with one another and have a chance to battle on the orange court. 

Today marks Day One in the All Japan High School Volleyball Championship. Otherwise known as the Spring Tournament.

The victor of each battle will be one step closer to reaching the summit, a place that is only reserved for one winning team. 

But until then, each team must go through the wringer and the emotional ties that come when playing the best of the best. Not only are the team members fighting for themselves to place a respectable standing in the tournament, they are also carrying the weight of their school’s pride and honor on their shoulders. The pressure that the Spring Tournament has always been great, but it’s even greater for those teams who are participating for the first time.

Teams such as the Karasuno High School Volleyball team.

A twelve member volleyball team from the Miyagi prefecture. For the past few years, Karasuno has fallen from their powerhouse status, but it seems that has all changed. Because now, here they are competing in the Spring Tournament for the first time in years.

Their methods of offense and defense were amazing to watch. It was almost too beautiful to describe but then again the concept is all the same: just keep the ball in play. 

“(Y/N)-san!” 

The third-year manager tore her gaze away from the orange court to meet with the familiar brown eyes of Miya Atsumu, the second-year setter of their volleyball team. 

“Hey Atsumu.” She greeted the popular setter with a smile before scanning the area around them. “Where’s Osamu?”

“That scrub is probably stuffing his face.” He huffed as he stood next to her. His eyes peered down at the active court. “What are you even doing here?”

(Y/N) followed his gaze and smiled. “Just want to check out the competition. I’m curious as to who our next opponent will be.”

“Who’s playing?”

“Tsubakihara Academy and Karasuno High.”

Atsumu furrowed his brow at the mention of the latter school. He’s sure that Goody-Two Shoes setter came from there. 

“Are they any good?”

He waited for her answer but when he didn’t receive one, the twin looked at her. Usually the older girl always had an answer for his questions, however silly the questions were. It was something Atsumu liked about (Y/N). No matter what silly antics he, his twin, and the rest of the volleyball team partook in, (Y/N) was always there to keep them in check. It was something Aran and Kita, her best friends, valued her for and the coach couldn’t agree more. 

Of course, there were times she played along with their shenanigans. It was why she got along so well with everyone on the team. As a manager, the girl knew there were times to be serious but also to just enjoy the moments with the best team she ever had. Even the annoying moments of Suna and the Miya twins prying into her non-existent love life. Take the conversation she had with them from last week.

Flashback

“You rejected another guy, (Y/N)-senpai.” Osamu commented as he ate his lunch. “How many is that now?”

His twin answered for her. “I’m pretty sure that makes him Unlucky Schmuck #5. But that guy didn’t even have a chance.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) stopped taking her notes and decided to indulge in the conversation. “And why’s that? Kenji’s a nice guy.”

“Easy because he’s boring. You don’t want to date a boring guy, do you?”

“The most interesting thing about him is that he’s on the basketball team.” Osamu piped in, reaching over the table to get some of her chips. “He’s not even on the starting line up.”

“His last post was just a picture of the ocean.” Suna piped in, his eyes showed so much disinterest in Unlucky Schmuck #5’s profile account. He showed his phone to her. “See?”

“So? That doesn’t mean he’s boring. Besides, I like the ocean. That’s why I liked his post.”

Suna rolled his eyes and turned off his phone. He leaned all his weight over (Y/N)’s shoulder. “That’s because you’re nice.”

“Sometimes too nice.” She grumbled as she jerked her shoulder so Suna could get off her and then slap the gray haired twin’s hand away from her chips. She looked back at Atsumu and said, “But I’m still waiting for the right guy to come around.”

The setter grinned. “Then quit waiting because I’m right here.”

Osamu and Suna scoffed, which irked Atsumu. “Aren’t you Unlucky Schmuck #1?”

“Am not!”

“Got the video on my phone if you want to relive it again.” Suna smirked as he taunted Atsumu with a wave of his phone. The video was pure gold. No way was he going to delete it. He needed all the memories, especially embarrassing moments of the Miya twins.

“Well, I’m glad you three are so interested in my love life but I already have my hands full dealing with you guys. I don’t need a jealous boyfriend on top of your crazy fangirls. My anxiety would not be able to handle it. Besides, nationals are literally next week. ”

The twins pouted in unison when the manager mentioned their fangirls. 

“Then get a guy who’ll understand. I’m sure there’s someone-”

“I’m right here-!” Atsumu exclaimed but was cut short when his twin hit the back of his head and at the same time Suna kicked his foot. “Quit abusing me!”

Suna ignored him and continued on. “Whoever this schmuck is, he’s going to be the luckiest guy in Japan.”

“He better be good at volleyball.” Atsumu grumbled, his head on the table. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Osamu joined his twin’s line of thinking. “Preferably from a powerhouse. The guy can’t be from a weak team. And cook some good food.” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at the Miya twins. Of course, they would say something like that. She looked back at Suna and asked, “Do you have a requirement for my future significant other?”

Suna thought for a moment before answering her question. “As long as he cares for you.”

“Thanks Suna.” 

“But the moment he hurts you,” Atsumu began.

“He has to deal with everyone on the team.” Osamu finished his brother’s sentence.

(Y/N) grinned at their protectiveness. “Thanks Unlucky Schmuck #1 and #2.”

“Hey!”/ “Don’t call me that!” The twins exclaimed in unison causing the middle blocker and manager to laugh once more.

End of Flashback

“Earth to (L/N) (Y/N)! Can you hear me, manager? This is future champion setter, Atsumu, speaking! Talk to me!”

(Y/N) blinked and tore her eyes away from the orange court. “Huh? What did you say?”

Atsumu narrowed his eyes and leaned close to (Y/N)’s face, causing the girl’s face to heat up. She quickly stepped back and looked away from the twin’s observant gaze. 

“What?” She asked him.

“Who were you looking at?”

“No one in particular. Just Karasuno's team in general.” 

She answered way too quickly and they both knew it. Atsumu grinned at his senpai’s poor attempt to lie. “Someone caught your eye?”

“Shouldn’t you be practicing your sets?”

“Oh no, don’t you avoid my question, (Y/N). Besides, my sets are perfect.” He turned his focus on the volleyball players that were still competing below. “Who’s the guy? Better not be that Goody-Two Shoes.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brow. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Karasuno’s #9. Kageyama Tobio.”

She looked at the roster and found the person Atsumu was talking about. She then looked back at the match that was still playing. 

“Wait a minute. Is this the same Goody-Two Shoes that you met at the National training camp?”

Atsumu huffed and nodded. His eyes narrowed at the impressive set Tobio just did. “Yeah, that’s him alright. Piece of work that guy. Always setting the ball exactly how the spiker wants it. Such a Goody-Two Shoes.”

“Oh my god, Atsumu. He’s just a first year student. Give him a break.” She paused for a moment before she asked, “Did you actually call him a Goody-Two Shoes?

The Inarizaki setter was just about to answer when he saw the familiar glare on his manager’s face. “Of course not.”

“You’re such a liar.” She scolded him as she flicked his forehead. “You always have to psych someone out and cause trouble.”

“Whatever! It’s not like I hurt his feelings. I was just telling him the truth. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

Just as she was about to reply, there was the familiar sound of a volleyball being slammed to the ground. Soon after, the announcer’s voice echoed throughout the stadium. “And Karasuno’s ace, Azumane Asahi, just did a flawless service ace!”

(Y/N)’s eyes searched for the mentioned ace. #3. The third-year wing spiker. A guy with long brown hair styled in a bun. He looked older than the rest of the team with his tall and strong build and with the service ace earlier, Azumane has proven himself that he’s the ace of the team.

He looked intimidating, just like how Aran would be when he was on a roll. But for some reason, Karasuno’s ace, didn’t scare her. 

‘It’s his smile. He has a beautiful smile.’ (Y/N) thought as she watched the ace high-fived his teammates. ‘It looks like he’s enjoying himself… Having the time of his life.’

The pair of students watched the match until it reached its conclusion with Karasuno winning the second set. Which means they’ll advance to the second round where they’ll face their own team. Tomorrow’s match: Inarizaki vs Karasuno. It will be an interesting match that would guarantee to excite the crowd.

“Well, at least we know who we’re going to beat tomorrow.” Atsumu’s eyes shimmered in excitement, knowing tomorrow’s match will be a battle between setters. He couldn’t wait to prove to everyone who the better setter was. “Come on, (Y/N), let’s get out of here. The team is probably waiting for us to go out for lunch.”

“Sure.” 

As Atsumu led the way, (Y/N) looked over her shoulder where her eyes landed on the members of Karasuno’s volleyball team cheering for joy. The ace’s smile was infectious as she felt her own lips smile as well. 

~

“Hey, Atsumu. You go ahead. I want to buy another T-shirt while I’m here. I’ll catch a bus to the hotel.”

“You sure? I can wait-” Atsumu’s stomach decided it was the perfect moment to announce its hunger out loud. 

(Y/N) laughed as the setter tried to cease his stomach’s rumbling. “Just go, ‘Tsumu. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Fine! But hurry, will you? You know how ‘Samu gets when he’s hungry.”

The two parted ways. It always surprised her how large the crowd gets during intermission. She had to dodge and weave to avoid the hurdle of students carrying band instruments. She was successful and luckily the T-shirt stand was right there. There were so many options to consider and she was just about to make a selection when there was a sudden loud CRASH. 

The noise caused her to stiffen in fright, she looked behind her to find someone had dropped a pair of cymbals.

“Can someone pick those up?” A girl asked her bandmates.

“I got them.” A bright-eyed boy volunteered.

(Y/N) remembered to breathe to calm her nerves as she gave the worker of the T-shirt stand a wobbly smile. “Can I have-”

“Hey, you! Look out!”

While the boy meant to be helpful, everything went downhill from there. When the boy bent down to pick up the cymbals, he accidentally bumped the nearby bass drum causing it to fall out of its little wagon. The large drum began to roll away, causing the crowd to panic. 

(Y/N) looked behind her and saw that the drum was heading right towards her. She was just about to move when she felt a warm hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the way. She watched as two guys her age, one with dark hair and the other with silver hair, stopped the drum from crashing into the T-shirt stand. 

“A-Are you okay, miss?” A male’s voice, deep with concern, asked her. “Are you hurt?”

“Y-Yeah. Thanks for that-” (Y/N)’s ability to talk disappeared when she saw the face of her hero. It was Karasuno’s ace, Azumane Asahi. 

And he looked even more handsome up close. She had to step back - not because she was scared of him but because she could feel her heart going into overdrive being so close to the guy she was beginning to have a crush on.

“Miss?”

‘He’s talking to you, dummy! Talk back!’

“Oh, um, yeah! Thanks again.” (Y/N) gave him a smile. “You’re Azumane, right? From Karasuno? I just watched your match. You were amazing, especially with that service ace.”

Asahi’s POV

A girl was talking to him. 

A pretty girl. Willingly talking. To him. 

It was enough to cause his brain to short circuit. He waited for the girl to come to her senses and realize that she was supposed to be scared of him, like how everyone else he came across. But to his surprise, the pretty girl was still talking to him. She didn’t have an ounce of fear in her eyes and the gentle smile she gave him made him feel better about himself. And to make matters even better, she was giving him compliments.

And he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Daichi and Suga came up on either side of him and saw the girl. Asahi didn’t have to look at them to know his friends were giving each other a knowing smile behind his back.

The two introduced themselves to the girl who in turn introduced herself.

“My name is (L/N) (Y/N). I’m from Inarizaki High School in Hyōgo. I came here with my team.”

“You must be really good if you made it to Nationals.” Suga complimented.

She shook her head. “Oh no. I’m just the manager for the volleyball team. I was just telling your ace here how good your team was during your match.”

“We were nervous at first but we managed to get through this round.” Daichi told her. “The other team surprised us with that underhand serve.”

“Really? You manage to adapt to it very well.”

“We couldn’t have done it without this guy!” Suga slapped his hand against Asahi’s back. “Would you believe me if I told you he was single?”

“S-Suga!” He shouted in embarrassment. “W-Why w-would you say that?!”

“Oh come on, Asahi,” Daichi placed his hand on his shoulder. “It’s not like he’s lying. Besides, we're all single too.”

“Y-Yeah but that doesn’t mean she is.”

“Sorry to break the news but I’m single just like you.” 

He was shocked to hear that the girl in front of him was actually single. She was breathtaking. Literally. And she was so nice to him.

“My team thinks otherwise. They keep pushing me to have a boyfriend, but I have my hands full managing them and their crazy fangirls. A jealous boyfriend isn’t something I need, you know?”

“Oh, well, that’s reasonable. Maybe you need to find someone who’s understanding,” Suga elbowed his side. “Right, Asahi?”

“U-Um yeah?” What is Suga up to?

“It’s a good thing there are guys, like Asahi, in the world. He’s actually quite sensitive. The only time he feels confident is when he’s on the court.”

“Daichi, what are you doing?” He whispered, the heat from his neck began to crept onto his face. Is his face red? Can she tell?

“Oh, no. Look at the time. Daichi, we need to go.” Suga announced, grabbing the captain’s shoulders and pushing him in a random direction. “We have that meeting with the coach. Right now. Remember?”

“That’s right, Suga.” Daichi gave him a knowing smile, a smile that he knew meant trouble. “Asahi, why don’t you stay here with (L/N)? Make sure she’s safe from any more runaway instruments.”

“It was nice meeting you two! Good luck tomorrow! You’re going to need it. The boys of the Inarizaki team love a good challenge. Don’t disappoint them.”

“Right back at you.”

He watched as his friends walked away, leaving him alone with the girl who caused his anxiety to skyrocket to a whole new level. Not even Kiyoko made him feel like this.

“You're lucky to have such good friends, Azumane.” She told him, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts. “I bet there’s never a dull moment when you three are together.”

He laughed as he rubbed his neck out of habit. “Been that way since we were first years. Though the first and second years bring all the crazy.”

“I know exactly what you mean. The second years on the team love making my life crazy. I love them but sometimes they can be a bit much. Especially during Nationals. Speaking of which, is this your first time?”

“Yeah. And with this being my last year, I guess I should be grateful that I’m even here.”

He was so lost in his own world of self-deprecation that he didn’t notice what she was doing. Not until her fist punched his chest. It wasn’t gentle or strong, somewhere in between, but her touch didn’t surprise him. 

It was her eyes that surprised him. They seemed to shine with determination and, for some reason or another, inspire confidence. Even her voice was firm.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Asahi. Your team didn’t get here by chance. You all earned a spot here. You deserve to be here.”

Was it possible for a heart to beat so hard against a person’s ribs? Maybe it’s a medical condition? Because never before had he felt so anxious yet empowered. He wondered if (Y/N) could feel his heart underneath her hand. 

“I’m not saying you should just get over yourself because we all have experienced some level of negative emotion in our lives, right? And it’s not as easy as turning a page in a book. Trust me I know. So believe me when I say this, it’s okay to express those feelings. Maybe one day, you’ll find solace in someone.”

There was another feeling. He couldn’t find a label for it, but he could describe it. A warm sensation that bloomed from his chest to every cell in his body the moment she said his name. Not his surname. His actual name. Asahi. His brain felt as though it had melted inside his skull. But by some miracle, he found his voice again.

“You… You think so?” He asked her. “About me being here?”

Why was he asking her this? Just a few minutes ago, she was a stranger. She could just lie to make him feel better but he had a feeling (Y/N) wasn’t like that. 

“Are you kidding? I saw it with my own eyes.” She stepped back and mimicked a serve. The smile on her lips complimented the excitement in her eyes. “I’ve seen a lot of players these past three years, all of them possessing some kind of amazing skill. But you’re… Special.”

“Because I’m the ace?”

She smiled up at him. “That’s part of it, but if I’m being honest here I think you’re special even without the title of ace. The match from today proved it to me and I’m sure you’ll see it soon enough.”

“See what?”

“Your true self-worth.”

Normal POV

(Y/N) watched as Asahi mulled over her words and she hoped it gave him some confidence. While she didn’t know him all too well, Asahi looked like a nice enough guy. A bit self-conscious about his abilities, but hopefully she helped him loosen the strangling roots of insecurity that surrounded him.

Why did she care so much in helping him? Well, he did save her. The least she could do is give him some encouragement. She frowned at the thought. No… There must be something else she could do to give her thanks…

Her eyes wandered to the T-shirt stand and an idea was formed.

“Hey Asahi-san, let me buy you a T-shirt. It’s the least I could do since you saved me and all.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Really. As long as you're okay-”

She shook her head, grabbed his hand, and led him to the T-shirt stand. “Come on, please. You can choose whatever shirt you like. Consider it a gift.”

“G-Gift?” Asahi stammered and she couldn’t help but find his stammering cute. “From you?”

A small chuckle escaped her lips. “Yes from me. It wouldn’t make sense if it was someone else. Let me do this for you.”

Asahi contemplated for a moment before agreeing. The worker of the T-shirt stand, who watched their interaction the whole time, was extremely kind to them as (Y/N) picked her choice as well. Asahi stood awkwardly by, waiting for the transaction to be finished.

“You two would make a cute couple.” The worker said, quiet enough so only she could hear. “You should go for him.”

“You think so?” (Y/N) asked as she discreetly peered over her shoulder to look at the guy who made her feel all warm and fuzzy. 

“Believe it or not,” The worker handed her the two bags, hers and Asahi’s, “Before the whole chaos started, you already caught his eye. His two friends tried to get him to talk to you but I guess he was too nervous.”

(Y/N) smiled widely at this. Maybe he liked her too? She hoped so because the feeling was definitely mutual. Only one way to find out...

“Hey, do you have a pen and paper I can use?”

~

Turns out the two third-years were heading in the same direction. By some cosmic fate, Asahi and his team were staying at the inn right next to the hotel she was staying in with her own team. So during the whole bus ride there, they got to know more about each other.

Asahi learned about (Y/N)’s favorite foods, hobbies, and even her future dream of attending the university in Tokyo. He laughed at the stories she shared about the Inarizaki team members. And (Y/N) was happy to learn more about him. She learned that he was close to the libero of his team, he has taste in fashion, and that his birthday just passed four days ago.

All too soon, they reached their destination. They walked side by side until they reached the point where the path forked, one way led to her hotel while the other led to Asahi’s inn.

She turned to face him and flashed him another smile. “Thanks for your company, Asahi-san. It was really nice getting to know you.”

“Same here, (Y/N)-san.” Asahi replied, his voice no longer nervous around her. “And thanks again for the shirt. I’ll make sure to take care of it. I want it to last for years.”

“It’s no problem. After all, you did save me.” Her fingers rubbed the plastic material of her bag out of nerves. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Y-Yeah, see you.” 

Asahi’s POV

With her back turned, there was sudden pull in his heart, as if begging for her to stay.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

He was surprised to hear his voice sound so firm but she brought that feeling out of him. He didn’t want her to leave. Not yet. He enjoyed talking to (Y/N). She was so understanding, kind, and ever so confident. Their time together felt so short but at the same time so long. Those moments with her… He wanted more of those moments. 

And the moment his eyes met with her hopeful ones, he knew he had to at least try to ask for her number.

“Yes, Asahi?”

Oh, god. She looked so pretty… He wondered if (Y/N) knew the effect she has on him. The initial confidence he had was beginning to fade, but he steeled his nerves and took a deep breath.

“I was wondering, i-if it’s okay with you, that w-we could-”

“(Y/N)-SENPAI!” A guy with blond hair called out to her.

Right next to him was another guy, identical to the first only with silver hair, yelled, “WE’RE WAITING FOR YOU! I’M STARVING!”

“WHAT ‘SAMU SAID!”

‘They must be the Miya twins.’ He thought.

(Y/N) sighed before answering back, “Give me a minute!” She turned back and offered him a sheepish look. “Sorry about that Asahi. What were you saying?”

Over her shoulder, he saw the Miya twins frowning at him all the while staring daggers in his direction. His confidence, the little bit he had in supply, disappeared into thin air. He stammered out a reply, “Never mind. U-Um… Get a good night’s sleep. T-Take care of yourself.”

(Y/N)’s smile melted. Was that disappointment in her eyes? But she quickly recovered and offered him a bittersweet smile, “Oh, um, thanks Asahi. Good luck tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” She turned around and began to make her way to the twins when stopped in her tracks. “Oh, and Asahi-san?”

“Yeah?” He felt his heart hitch up to his throat when they made eye contact once again. Her eyes were a lovely shade of (E/C) filled with warmth and kindness. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself the next few days. Remember what I said. Your team is lucky to have you as their ace. So do your best tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll do great.” She glanced down at the plastic bag containing the shirt she bought for him. “I hope you like the shirt. Consider it a birthday gift from me.”

And with that, the girl he developed to have feelings for walked away, but not before she gave one last smile that made his heart expand three times its size. 

~

“Asahi! You’re back!” Nishinoya’s loud voice echoed throughout the room where Karasuno's team was staying. “Is what Daichi and Suga are saying true? You met a girl?!”

Tanaka joined in his friend’s interrogation. “Yeah, Asahi! Daichi didn’t want to say anything but Suga said you saved her life!”

“Was she pretty?”

“What school does she go to?”

“What was she like?”

“What’s her name?”

“We need details!” The two second-years yelled out in unison. Their eyes shimmering in excitement as they waited for answers. 

“Uh, w-well…”

“Alright, that’s enough you two.” Daichi grabbed their shirt collars and pulled them back. “Give Asahi a break. He’s had an eventful day.”

“Yeah, come on, Asahi, let's get you a drink from the vending machine.” Suga offered, his hand already pushing him out of the room.

“I’m not thirsty-”

“Yes, you are.” Suga interrupted. “Our treat. Well, Daichi’s treat since he’s buying.”

The trio of third-years walked downstairs and true to Suga’s words, Daichi bought them a round of their favorite drink.

“Okay, spill! Don’t leave out a single detail. I want to know everything.” Suga pressed, just as Nishinoya and Tanaka were a few minutes ago.

“Suga, calm down.” Daichi told him. “You're worse than Nishinoya and Tanaka combined.”

“Oh, come on, Daichi,” Suga complained. “You want to know just as badly as I do.” 

“Ok, fine.” The captain admitted before turning to the ace. “So how did it go with (Y/N)?”

“Details.” Suga reminded him. 

So he told his friends everything that happened when they left them alone. How she raised his spirits, believing in his self-worth as an ace. How her words inspired him. How she made him feel nervous one moment and confident the next. How she bought him a new shirt as a gift.

“She sounds awesome for you, Asahi.” Suga complimented. “And if I remember correctly, doesn’t she fit your description of your ideal dream girl?”

“I mean- Yeah. She’s great but-”

Daichi interrupted him. “But what, Asahi? You're both single and you’re definitely interested in each other.”

“How do you know that? I mean she did say she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.”

“She said she didn’t need a jealous boyfriend.” Daichi reminded him. “You’re the most sensitive guy I know.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“This time it is.”

“Seriously, Asahi,” Suga placed his hand on his shoulder. “Why do you think I highlighted your star qualities? You take other people’s feelings into account. She helped build your confidence. And you just told us, how you had a great time talking to her where it sounds like she did too. You’re literally perfect for each other.”

“You think so?” He asked, sounding hopeful. “I do like her. Do you think she likes me?”

“Dude, she wasn’t scared of you, she held down a meaningful conversation with you, and she even bought you a shirt.” Suga listed, his grin growing by the minute. “(Y/N) likes you.”

The small flame of hope in his heart, fueled by his friends’ words, began to burn brightly. He couldn’t wait to see her again. Even if she’ll be on the sidelines on the opposing team’s side, he’ll still be happy.

“So what will you do next, ace?” Daichi asked, crossing his arms. Suga did the same thing as they waited for a response. “Will you let this opportunity slip away?”

“No way.”

His friends grinned, happy to see their glass-hearted friend sound so confident.

~

It was nightfall. Everyone took a rain check and turned in early, knowing that the next day will be just as hard as the first. The only person not asleep was him. He volunteered to shower last as it gave him the chance to relive the afternoon.

How was he going to talk to her tomorrow? Will she want him to talk to her? His team is playing against hers tomorrow… If they win tomorrow, will she be angry and ignore him? 

Shaking his head at the thought, he finished his nightly routine. He decided to wear the shirt (Y/N) bought for him. He grabbed the bag and unfolded the shirt. Carefully as if it was woven by the most precious fabric in the world. In his mind, the T-shirt was a treasure given to him by an angel.

For some reason, he recalled (Y/N)’s words, ‘So believe me when I say this, it’s okay to express those feelings. Maybe one day, you’ll find solace in someone.’

He hoped she believed that to be true because he might have found that someone. 

The sound of paper falling caught his attention. At first he thought it was just the discarded T-shirt tags, when his eyes landed on a simple piece of folded notebook paper in the sink. He picked it up, unfolded it, and his heart stopped for the third time? Fourth? Maybe fifth?

In clean and elegant handwriting, the note displayed:

I hope this isn’t weird of me to do this, but I didn’t want to lose this chance. So this is me making the first move because while I try to play it cool, you make me nervous. (Hard to believe, right?) Anyways, this is my number: XXX-XXX-XXXX. 

We can just talk if you want. You seem like a cool guy and I still want to get to know you. If you don’t, I’ll understand. Anyways, I’ll cut this note short. Good luck tomorrow! Don’t hold back against Inarizaki. 

P.S: I hope your friends were telling the truth earlier.

~

Normal POV

(Y/N) ditched her cards the moment she heard her phone let out a small ding, signaling a new message.

“Hey, you can’t just do that in the middle of the game!” Atsumu’s voice called out.

She ignored him as she jumped on her bed and grabbed her phone. Her heart was racing as she quickly unlocked her phone, but then it expanded at the sight of the message that read:

Hey, it's Asahi. Is this (Y/N)-san?

Her face broke into a wide smile. Her thumbs danced over the keyboard as she typed out a reply:

Asahi! Yeah, it’s me. I’m glad you found my note.

She watched as the three dots appeared, signaling that Asahi was typing. God, he has no idea the effect he has on her.

It was a nice surprise. A bit of a shock, but it’s very much welcomed. The shirt fits by the way. I think it’s my new favorite. 

Another message appeared after the first and she felt every atom in her body seemed to explode after reading it.

By the way, my friends were telling the truth. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

~

This was the first page of a story where two individuals found solace in one another.

~

Next: Chapter 2

[beaulesbian]

🌘☀️ Some thoughts on Zoro & Luffy and their connection to gods and demons☀️🌒

This post started at first with just a few points about Zoro in the context to Asura/ King of Hell but since then it somehow evolved into connecting bits and pieces between Zoro & Luffy parallels again, I just can't help it, sooo...long post ahead.

Wano + Egghead spoilers

I always love remembering this one of the very first scenes where we (and Luffy) first hear about Zoro, and in the context of Zoro being a Pirate Hunter, even described as a demonic beast or as Koby says "demon in human form." None of this discouraged Luffy upon hearing this, on the contrary - he thought that if he sees for himself if Zoro was a good guy, he would be a great addition to his crew, and then went out of his way to seek him out! And only later we got the explanation that Zoro just couldn't find his way back home. "Roaming the seas" meant surviving for him, bounty hunter meant getting by in life with the skills he knew the best - swords, which is kind of sad when you think about it, but all the more interesting that it was Luffy who found him in Shells town,

where Zoro, a nonbeliever of any gods of higher power, was bound to a cross, and the first thing Luffy pointed out was "he's smiling".

I like to think that the smile might have been one of the first signs important enough for Luffy to choose someone for his crew - not only the kindness that followed when Luffy saw Zoro eating the dirty rice ball, but the smile that's by itself also very connected to Luffy himself:

After that first fight they won together, already reading each other so well, Zoro was the first one to call Luffy his captain (and later at Baratie also the first one to call him the future Pirate King!). He was someone who already fully believed in Luffy's future of reaching his dream without questioning it, perphaps because their drive towards their goals and dreams was very similar. And Luffy was the one who freed Zoro and let him have his swords - his biggest treasures - and gave him back the possibility to go into the world to actually follow his dream!

"One day, he'll show up and take you out under the sun, to the freedom of the sea!" - ch. 1095, Buccaneers about Sun God Nika (flashback with Kuma)

Fast forward to Wano - it's incredible how entangled their stories are with belief in always striving to do better/be stronger/try again next time for Luffy, someone who doesn't care what others think - he just needs to do what he wants and to be free - only for him to awaken his Devil Fruit and his God Nika powers; and for Zoro (a non-believer/apatheist) with how determined he was to successfully wield Enma so he could defeat King the Wildfire even to the lengths of becoming the King of Hell if that was what needed to be done to get Luffy one more step towards being the Pirate King.

Which brings me back to Demon Asura Zoro and where we saw this form throughout the manga:

This whole post started at first as a parallel to my other post about Zoro not really being shown to react to Luffy's Gear 5 (yet, as of chapter 1109), and I kept thinking about Zoro's Asura technique and how he used it so far only three (!!!) times, and there weren't many reactions from the strawhat crew either.

First one was during the Enies Lobby against Kaku, who even calls that vision 'demon-god' (ch. 417). If I remember Zoro was there by himself with Kaku, his crew each fighting other opponents elswhere:

The second time was during their first visit to Sabaody Archipelago, ch. 510, where it was the whole crew against the Pacifistas. The only bigger reactions were Brook and Chopper ("So many Zoros!!" - how cute!)

Luffy went right after Zoro with his last attack against the Pacifistas, so he's either seen Zoro's attack or it just wasn't the time or place to react, which, fair.

and then, third and last time so far Zoro went into his Asura form, it was up against Kaido, ch. 1010, when Luffy was out of it and Kaido was threatening how he would end Luffy in various ways.. which only angered Zoro more ("That's my captain!" - yeah, tell him, Zoro!)

All of these three times we've seen Asura, it was against few of the most dangerous opponents and all three times Zoro had his bandana on, being serious about it. All three of these times he knew his whole crew was fighting for their lives too and were in very real danger. Enies Lobby really changed the tone of the next few arcs with how serious things were about to go; Sabaody was just after Thriller Bark with Zoro being still injured and he knew what Kuma/Pacifistas were capable of - there was real fear and despair. And of course, on Wano against Kaido,. he saw how much damage Luffy took, Zoro could only hope to put more wounds on Kaido to count in their favor.

Zoro knew he had one last attack to try and make some difference in this fight - and this was before his fight with King, so he wasn't fully in sync with Enma yet, but it was good enough to unlock Asura technique - with something more to it.

Apparently along with his haki - not just the armament or observation haki, but the supreme king haki, as Kaido himself is shocked to find out. Zoro wasn't even consciously aware of having/using this haki.

Even the wiki mentions this as Zoro adding the supreme king haki to his Asura attack to strenghten it, or possibly was only able to unlock this technique because of having supreme king haki - meaning he was possibly using it even in both of those pre-time skip situations mentioned above.

The supreme king haki is something people can't learn, but are born with, meaning Zoro probably didn't know until Wano (and still wasn't sure what he did), but possibly learnt to use it instinctively - very much like Luffy on Amazon Lily.)

I already made a post that touched a bit on King of hell Zoro, and other parts around Asura (clearly, i'm never done thinking about that), with a very big possibility/hints that he could come from lineage of people of the D. (asura - enemies of gods - people of D.) - especially if it's connected to supreme king haki as inherited ability (although that isn't confirmed in the manga, as far as I understood).

This brings me to Zoro's family, and specifically Ryuma.

Wano was a great arc that connected things from Thriller Bark -with Zoro returning the legendary sword Shusui back to Ryuma's grave where it belonged.

There was an interesting panel at the end of Wano, where people were celebrating Luffy's victory over Kaido, but were given the name Joyboy as their savior - possibly Momonosuke's doing as Luffy told him not to mention him by name because Luffy didn't want to be a hero.

And in this panel, the peple are comparing this feat of victory to the legendary "God of the Blade" - which is another title for Ryuma.

It's so curious how Zoro is connected to Ryuma, even through span of many centuries and countries across, but still there is that connection, on top of actually fighting Ryuma's zombie on Thriller Bark, and Zoro isn't even aware of it. We only know about it from the SBS corner of Oda mentioning Zoro's family. (SBS corner in vol. 105. Ryuma wasn't mentioned there precisely, but the name Shimotsuki being of Zoro's grandmother and others from Wano, it makes sense they're Ryuma's descendants):

Side note: There's also something really beautiful of how the Shimotsuki line was passed down on Zoro from his grandmother - and his promise he cherishes since childhood being tied to Kuina, someone who wanted to be the greatest swords(wo)man - and therefore Zoro carrying Wado and that dream and promise for her.

Zoro & Luffy

Now to tie it all back to parallels with Zoro and Luffy - I love that there are always these small moment in how similar these two are - in their honest words and actions, in them believing in one another and believing even more in reaching their dreams, their crew and their strengths. In both being so directionally clueless and sometimes outright stupid, yet in certain situations (more so in battles and fights), they are the ones sometimes smartest and most strategic.

Then there's these other similarities between them: how much they don't care about what's told about them or -be it by luck or fate- how things work out in their favor in the end, usually. How both of them don't wish to be heroes, because heroes had to share (food and sake).

How there's that fact that Zoro doesn't know the full context of his powers, especially with his supreme king haki- or that he doesn't want to know the truth or put a name to that ability, because he fights with his swords and doesn't need to put belief of any other powers beside his own strength. (Or maybe he will soon learn how to use it to his (and his crew's) benefit.)

and Luffy, who doesn't know probably anything about Nika- and most likely wouldn't care much about them beside the scope of his new powers. The whole meaning of being something like "sun god" for others didn't register with him yet, and it might never be that important to him personally. Time after time, people around him mention luck or fate, or how people of the D. are the enemies of the Gods - enemies of the celestial dragons, but those don't really matter to Luffy because it doesn't change why he fights and why he needs himself and others to be free and achieve his dream.

How Zoro and Ryuma could be parallels to Luffy and Joyboy - one living in the present, reminiscent of those that lived centuries ago - something about the history always repeating.

When Zoro got to fight Ryuma on Thriller Bark, or even Hyogoro compares him to Shimotsuki Ushimaru (Zoro's great uncle),

and how Zunesha was waiting for Joyboy, how Roger and Oden found messages from Joyboy of his promises to return.

The parallels between sun god Nika and demon god/king Asura are so interesting in their opposites yet similarities. There's still so much we don't know about Nika or Joyboy, but Luffy himself isn't just the perfect picture of responsibility or justice. He's free, and that's the most important for him. He now has the power to do what he really wants to do with his powers, he unlocked that new potential to make it even more fun and even more dangerous against his enemies.

Even if Zoro's saying he doesn't believe in higher powers he embraces the powers that unlocked with Enma and getting him the title of King of Hell, he knows it would be the things that would keep him fighting for another minute, hour, day when it becomes necessary to protect Luffy and their crew.

Zoro may not believe in any gods but he believes in Luffy with all his being.

And in the similar vein, Luffy is the one who always believed in Zoro's strength and capability to protect the rest of their crew when it was necessary, times after time.

It's feels like it's not at all a coincidence that Luffy's whole crew is full of otherness and beings connected to hell/monsters/demons more than anything divine - because lot of the gods in One Piece are mentioned in context of standing above others and above common people - it's a bit flipped of what's good or not, or even more it's never clear because that's life, and those people are just claiming some titles. Eneru being the first example of a "god" the Straw Hats encountered, celestial dragons being called Gods, the Gorosei having each titles of "Godhead" - it's no wonder that Luffy's crew all fights for freedom and reaching whatever each of them needs to achive as their dream,

and includes: a dead man but living skeleton Brook; a demon child Nico Robin; Chopper "I don't mind being a monster for Luffy.'"; Sanji with all his hell fire and "diable" kicks and attacks, along with his non human strength and other abilities; Nami wielding the powers similar to Eneru without the need of both Devil Fruit or being called a goddess, and bringing down lightning on anyone who threatens her crew; Usopp and his powers of nature and plants sprouting new life and strengths from long distance; Jimbei - fishman and former Sun Pirate and also "First son of the Sea"; Franky the more cyborg than a man; and of course, Roronoa "I might as well become the King of Hell" Zoro.

It's not all so black and white, good or bad. Luffy is still everything that makes him Luffy - he's honest and selfish in his selflesness, kind and brave and stubborn, and always knows that Zoro (and his whole crew) has his back so he doesn't have to hold back.

And Zoro is still Zoro despite being able to wield some newer haki powers he's slowly discovering now. He's still getting lost and still is his stubborn self that puts the crew and Luffy above himself, and would follow Luffy into hell if that was needed.

Luffy and Zoro are "just" captain and his first mate, always throughout the story since the beginning. Orphans with such interestingly woven past and relationships around them, who grew up with a big dream they had to go and achieve it no matter what, and found someone just as honest, kind, powerful and trustworthy as they were. But there's that deep and fierce devotion that always borderlines on something beyond just good. They're pirates - because that means being free.

They can be chaotic and powerful, and find something divine in the loyalty of the demonic powers, and something hellish in the god-like entity bringing freedom.

It feels like something Roger said to Rayleigh when they first met - That it was a fated meeting.

[mack-devereaux]

Hiii i wanna ask if ya can write something with Vince? Maybe him getting into a fight (so hot i love it) and hin hurting his wrist are something? And reader taking care of him afterwards. Plleeaassee

Vince Dunn

Omg this is my first request!! I’m so sorry it took so long! Also check out my other fic about Vince. I think they have a similar vibe. But This has no relation to that one. I had so much fun writing this. Just a reminder this is a work of fiction and my imagination, this is not based on true events. Thank you to the anon who requested!

Picture is from Pinterest, no triggers except for cursing and mentions of blood. I think that’s it! Enjoy!

When Vince first moved to Seattle he was excited. This was a brand new team and he had more opportunities to make a name for himself as one of the more aggressive defensemen in the NHL. He had always had a temper on the ice, even in his early days in high school and in the OHL, and he was good at running his mouth. He was always respectful to the medical training staff and the coaching staff, he never took his anger or frustration out on the people who helped him get back on the ice.

Did he cause the fights on purpose? Maybe.

Was he mad about being hauled into the cute medical trainers office to get patched up? Absolutely not. He enjoyed talking with y/n and getting to know her a bit better.

Did he cause fights just to see her? No, he truly has a passion for the sport, he just sometimes got a little too involved with the banter sometimes. However a perk to all this was those few minutes alone with y/n. Although she never really spoke to him much outside of work and was always very quiet he knew how passionate she was about her job. No matter what she was always so attentive to the injury and informative about what she was doing to help said injured player.

Y/n loved the energy of the home games, she typically didn’t get to travel very much with the team, only to close games, but something about the atmosphere of home games had her just buzzing with energy. Most of the time she got to watch the game from the tunnels, it was the perfect spot to see most of the game and it was easy to drag injured players back to the locker room to tend to the injuries. Tonight’s game was a home game against the Colorado Avalanche again, a team known to get the Kraken a little riled up. Just the week prior Vince had gotten himself into quite the scrum and ended up with a cut on his nose while playing against the Avalanche.

*flashback to a week prior*

Y/n was sitting in the medical room at Ball Arena, going through the medical kits organizing some of the supplies. She had heard the roar of the crowd and immediately knew there was a fight that happened. Shortly after that, the third period had ended. Hearing the players stomping down the tunnel shouting and cheering she already knew who was headed her direction.

“Vince..” y/n sighed pulling all her medical supplies back out.

“Don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me” Vince chirped at the girl.

“You’re gonna have some serious damage to your nose if you don’t stop” y/n said as she was washing her hands and throwing her gloves on “I’m surprised you don’t have a permanent scar from how many times I’ve seen it busted”.

“That just means you are doing a great job babe. I’ve got you to thank for keeping me looking good” Vince smiles.

Y/n rolled her eyes and turned around trying to hide her blush. Knowing this was the exact reason as to why she fell for him. He was just so charming. He knew exactly what to say and that’s why she could never date him. That and the fact that she technically worked for the same organization as him. Were they coworkers? No, but surely it was still frowned upon. At least that’s what she told herself anyway. As she was cleaning off the blood from his nose she caught herself admiring him. He truly was one of the most beautiful people she’s ever laid eyes on. Once the bleeding stopped she checked for other injuries, and sent him to be with the rest of the team.

“Promise me you’ll keep out of trouble for at least the next week” she called to him as he walked away.

“For you? Never.” He added with a wink.

*present*

Five minutes left in the third period and y/n had gotten to watch maybe 10 minutes total of the game. Partially because she didn’t like seeing Vince fight much, and because the players definitely kept her busy. This was probably the most bloody noses and knuckles she had tended to in her entire career. Normally the crowd goes crazy and encourages fights, and she definitely enjoyed that. But for some reason she couldn’t stomach seeing Vince getting hurt. I guess she had Cupids arrow to thank for that. After a few more minutes gloves went flying, curse words were being yelled and the crowd went wild. Reluctantly she looked over in front of the players bench and Vince had thrown a Colorado player on his back.

“Oh for fucks sake Vince” she muttered under her breath.

“You got him or do you want me to take care of him this time” the head medical trainer asked y/n chuckling and shaking his head.

Y/n looked across the ice as Vince and the Avalanche player got tossed in their respective sin bins, she sees that Vince has his helmet off and is holding his wrist.

“I think he hurt his wrist, do you see him messing with it?” y/n points to Vince.

“I’ll take a look when we get back there but I’m sure he’s fine. I think you can handle it after that” the trainer says as they walk back to the locker room.

After the game y/n was in her office waiting for Vince, it had been nearly 40 minutes since the game ended. What was taking him so long? She knew Coach had told him to stop by after their after game meetings and interviews. While she was waiting she decided to tidy up and clean a bit. As she was cleaning her desk she found the puck that Vince had signed and gave to her earlier that year.

*flashback to late last season*

Y/n was standing behind the players bench. It was the last home game for the season, then they were headed into playoffs. Looking onto the ice she watched the players warm up and interact with fans. Vince was watching y/n as he was skating in circles, getting a boost of confidence he picked up a puck and signed it with a note. Smirking he passed by and shouted “hey y/n! Catch!”

Panicking y/n shot both of her hands in front of her face as the head medical trainer caught the puck before it smacked her in the face.

“Really Dunn?!” Y/n shouted.

Vince grinned and skated off, shaking her head she looked at the puck she noticed it said “hey pretty girl” with his signature. Blushing she shoved it in her pocket before she could get scolded.

“Oh he’s so got it bad for you” the trainer said.

“Leave the chirping to the players would you” y/n muttered “besides it’s not like I can date him anyway.”

“Technically…”

“Don’t tempt me” y/n sighed “my heart can’t handle the heartbreak that comes with that one.” She continued to watch him skate around and talk to his teammates with a huge smile on his face.

*back to present*

Y/n smiled at the memory. Not knowing she wasn’t alone, because of course Vince would walk in at that very moment. Leaning up against the doorframe Vince coughed snapping her back to reality.

“My God Vince, now you choose to be quiet? You scared me” y/n shoved the puck back into the drawer.

“I’ll make sure to knock next time” he softly smiled. He totally saw that she still had the puck and it definitely boosted his ego.

“Let me see your wrist” y/n said.

“It’s fine” he muttered.

“If it’s fine let me double check then” y/n challenged.

Vince walked over and sat down on the bench in her office, while reluctantly holding his wrist out. He watched her face as she examined his wrist.

“I think if we wrap it for tonight and tomorrow you should be fine, but the swelling needs to go down significantly before you play again. I’ll clear you for practice but you have to be easy on your arm for the next few days” y/n said as she was grabbing the necessary supplies.

“Thank you for taking care of me y/n, I’m sorry for fighting” Vince whispered.

She smiled at him as she sat down and started wrapping his wrist. Knowing full well that he was watching her face closely the entire time.

“I’ll walk you to your car” Vince said.

“I’d appreciate that, thank you” y/n said as she turned back to him after putting the supplies away. With yet another boost of confidence Vince grabbed her by the waist and pulled her face to his and kissed her, she immediately kissed him back. The kiss was short and sweet. Electricity shot through her body and she felt as if she was on fire. After pulling away y/n whispered “we should go.” Neither of them saying anything as they left the arena. Vince was feeling defeated for the first time in a long time, why hadn’t she said anything? Did he over step? Did he make her uncomfortable? A million more discouraging thoughts ran through his head. Him not knowing she was in shock and on cloud nine all at once. Y/n unlocked her car and opened the door. Before she got in she turned to Vince and pulled his face to hers and slammed her lips onto his. Vince cockily smiled into he kiss and pulled her into him as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. After a few minutes they both pulled away, breathing heavy and trying to get as close as possible to each other.

“Thank you for walking me to my car Vince.”

“Let me know when you get home so I know you’re safe.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[macfrog]

la petite mort sex on fire chapter four

bonsoir my children. it's your cool slutty daddy, ceo!joel, back for round two of paris trip. please enjoy, i hope this one causes less confusion but just as much heart failure as last chapter. love u guys long time. literally SO much. 💘✨💓

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you spend your second day in paris being spoiled by joel, who buys you anything you set eyes on. you’ve a treat of your own in mind as a thank-you, later on

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) another fucking confusing flashback, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, more obscene spending, sexy french speaking, sugardaddy!joel, BIG flirting, alcohol consumption, sexy lingerie, lapdance, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected piv sex, titty appreciation, assplay, double penetration, dom!joel, softdom!joel, ripping of expensive lingerie (rip), overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!joel, angst, themes of abandonment, fluff in the end i'm a romantic at heart

word count: 6.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first. “Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.” “Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?” “No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

The late afternoon sun has dipped behind the clouds. The wind’s picked up, too. You’re standing on the terrace of your suite, elbows propped on the metal railing, watching the light slowly drain from the sky, and melt into tiny twinkling headlights on the roads below.

Paris stares straight back at you. Melancholy, in this light. A little faded, worn, a washed gray as she loses her fight with the slow-setting sun. Your eyes trace the skyline, jumping from buildings to streetlights, following birds in the distance as they loop and soar over the city. Free. Held down to nothing, and no one.

When you close your eyes, he’s on the couch beside you. Blue-eyed stare cloudy, eyes puffy and red with tears he’s doing everything to hold back. Calling you sweetheart, telling you we can work through this. He’s got your bare fingers in his, thumbs running across your knuckles, rubbing circles around the empty space on your third finger. You have an impulse to stand up and walk out. You think you might follow through with it.

You don’t even hear him come in, don’t hear him call your name. Only feel when his arm snakes around your waist and he turns you to face him. Your eyes flutter back open.

“Hey,” Joel says, leaning back to look you up and down. “Nice robe.”

His fingers toy with the belt, thumb running across the soft terrycloth.

“You smell like whiskey,” you mutter, hands resting on his chest. You take a deep breath, pushing the relief you feel now that he’s back, down to the pit of your stomach. And then you finally look him in the eye. “How was Jean-Marc?”

Joel shrugs. “Same as usual. Wants to meet you.”

“You mentioned me?”

He bypasses your question. “Said I’d check with you, but he wants to have us for breakfast tomorrow.”

You nod. “Sounds like a nice guy.”

Joel grumbles, his lips tighten, and he looks out over the view behind you. You tilt your head and his hands take yours, dropping them to your side. His eyes fall low, past the tie he was just messing with.

“You gettin’ ready to go?”

“I was about to, yeah,” you reply, breathing a laugh when he starts to kneel in front of you. “Joel.”

“Mhm?” he asks, but he’s not listening, is he? His hands run up your legs, starting at your knees, and push the edges of your robe apart the higher they go.

“We – gotta – Joel,” you sigh, head rolling back, hands gripping the railing.

Joel’s lips part on your inner thigh, his tongue runs along your skin, trailing northward. His hands precede, pushing under your robe now to cup your naked ass, when he lifts his chin and glances up.

“Nothin’ on under it, baby,” he whispers, tsking. “’m I gonna do with you?”

“We have–” you shudder when his fingers move between your legs, “–to go get ready.”

“So go.”

Fucker.

You lean back against the glass, eyes quickly scanning the hotel in front of you, searching the neighboring windows for any prying eyes, but in the slow-moving blanket of dusk, mixed with your will to care quickly depleting, you find none.

Your attention draws back to Joel, whose lips run dangerously close to your center.

“Open, baby,” he says, and you don’t think about it. Your body just does what he tells it to.

Your legs fall open, head lulls to one side, fingers move through his hair. His jaw lowers, breath gently tickling your soft skin, and then his lips cup around your mound.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which quickly morphs into a moan, open-mouthed and broken, when Joel’s tongue sweeps over your clit.

“There,” you whisper, a little more serious than you intended, “do that – again.”

He obeys, wet tongue licking you again while his hands pull your thighs over his shoulders. Your weight shifts onto his body, back arching as he sucks on the sensitive bud.

Your hips roll, needing him a little more and a little further south. And he hears you, again. He takes a hand off of your leg, middle and ring fingers joining together to push up between your folds and inside you, dragging a whine from your lips.

“Yeah,” you moan, feeling yourself driving into his mouth and fucking yourself on his hand at the same time.

“Taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbles, mouth preoccupied.

Your head falls back, body slung over the balcony, thighs spreading ever so slightly to have more of him on more of you. And then your head starts to dizzy, your body hums in pleasure, your cunt starts to throb.

But before it goes any further, he’s pulling away.

His lips leave first. Then he draws his hand from between you, sucks his fingers clean and stands. Is he fucking –

“– serious?” you ask, jolting back to life.

He smirks, tongue pushing around his cheeks. “Hurry up ‘n get ready. I wanna go down to the bar for a drink before the car comes.”

And then he’s turning on his heel, striding back inside.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” he calls over his shoulder.

Your hands hit your thighs with a slap. “Fucking…sadist,” you hiss after him, following him into the warmly lit living room of your suite and down the hallway to the bedroom. Trying to ignore the ache between your legs which only grows worse the more you move.

“I’ll take good care of you later, angel.”

He sits back against the dresser at the foot of the bed, nods toward the black dress you’d laid out on the mattress an hour ago.

“Go on.”

“Go on what?”

“Show me the dress I paid three grand for on you, instead of it laying on the fuckin’ bed.”

You roll your eyes and storm by him, grabbing the black fabric, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

“’n don’t you think about finishin’ yourself!” Joel calls through the door.

“Fuck you!” you throw back, hearing his cocky laugh echo around the room.

You untie your robe in front of the mirror, letting it drop off of your shoulders into a pool of white cloth at your feet. Your eyes flit down your naked body – scanning from your shoulders over your breasts, around your tummy and down your thighs. You slip the black material over your head – a little stretch in it, just enough to mold around your body – and tug it down until it sits comfortably on your thighs.

The smooth skirt sits perfectly on your hips, curving around your ass and pulling in at your waist. You adjust the thin straps, fixing your breasts into place above a cut-out, just revealing enough. Backless, of course, straps crisscrossing over your skin.

It's skimpy, and it’s sexy, and it’s enough to make you look expensive as fuck and also make Joel want to rip it off of you the second you two make it back to the suite.

Enough to make him want to rip it off you before you’ve even left the suite, going by his reaction when you step out of the bathroom. He catches you in the mirror whilst he buttons his shirt, and turns, mouth falling open, eyes dancing all across your body.

You wordlessly sit, slip your feet into the heels you’d chosen, and fish the diamond-encrusted jewelry Joel had bought you from its box – pull the necklace around your neck, clip the earrings into place, and push the bracelets over your wrist. Then, you sling your jacket over your arm, and stand.

“I’m ready.”

“You…” His eyes scan down you again, settling on your chest for a couple seconds. “Yeah, baby. Give me five minutes.”

----------

The hotel bar reflects perfectly the intimidating grandeur of your suite, despite being a small room. It’s intimate, and pleasant, lit in a warm glow, and as you stroll in on Joel’s arm beneath a huge, ornate chandelier, you feel a smile pull across your lips. You’re not fucking sure why.

He leads you over to two heavy leather stools, pulling one out and waiting for you to hop up on it before he sits beside you. He orders two glasses of red wine, and the waiter craftily pours a small drop into one glass, setting it down in front of you and waiting for you to take a sip and approve before he pours the rest.

“Pétrus,” the waiter says, focusing intently on filling Joel’s glass. “Most expensive wine in France.”

You shoot Joel a look, but he’s already lifting his glass, glint in his eye. You hesitantly pick yours up and bump it into his, taking another sip.

“Good?” Joel asks, licking his lips.

You nod. “A little too good.”

He laughs. Then he nods at the waiter, who smiles, turns to you, and winks.

You smile back, a little embarrassed. “Merci beaucoup.”

As the waiter leaves you both, Joel turns, a look on his face you’ve never seen before. “Nice accent,” he says.

You scoff. “I hope it’s a nice accent, I studied it for six years.”

“Studied French?”

You nod.

“When?”

“High school, and then all through college.”

“How did I not know that about you?”

“It’s on my resume,” you say into your wine glass, “which I now know you didn’t read when you hired me.”

“Didn’t have to,” Joel replies. “I took one look at your pretty face ‘n decided you had the job.”

Him and his quick fucking wit. He almost catches you blushing, but you save it by shaking your head, and looking at the striped-wall room around you. There’s a framed picture of a horse on the wall behind Joel. Two men sit in animated conversation on the velvet couch below it, one of them clutching a wine that’s about to spill over.

When your eyes drift back to Joel, his are fixated elsewhere.

“Oh, be less obvious, Joel,” you mutter, corners of your mouth twitching.

“Can’t help it,” he finally draws his gaze from your chest, “they look so good. That dress is…” He shakes his head.

“You chose well.”

“Say somethin’ French to me.”

“Uh, no.”

“Uh, yeah. Tell me I chose well in French.”

“Tell me how the meeting went.”

Joel sits back, pushing air out of his cheeks. “Can’t do that.”

“Then no French.”

“Baby, c’mon. Just for me.”

You shake your head, pouting your lip. “Nope.”

Joel pleads a few more times, promises he’ll buy you more things, promises he’ll order more wine, even promises he’ll fuck you in the bathroom right now if you’ll just say one sentence in French to him.

You don’t relent.

Not until you’re a couple more wines deep, leaning into one another, your knees between his, pointing out other guests in the room and conjuring make-believe backstories for them.

“That one,” you say, hushed, shoulder brushing off of Joel’s, “in the corner, by the lamp. He’s waitin’ for a date, a Tinder date, who–”

Joel snorts. “A Tinder date?”

“–a Tinder date, who used photos of Cindy Crawford on her profile.”

Joel’s head tips back with laughter, his hand steadies himself on the bar. “If Cindy Crawford ends up walkin’ in here, you’re gonna be real sorry.”

You lean into his shirt, giggling into the cotton. When you lift your head, the two of you quietening again, you look into his eyes.

Blurry around the edges, a little too much wine in your system, you whisper: “Kiss me.”

Joel’s head cocks. He leans in, and you lift your jaw. His lips part, breath hot over your red lips, and he says, “You’re gonna get us into trouble, darlin’.”

“Je m’en fous,” you reply.

“Monsieur,” a voice from your right breaks between you, “your car is outside.”

Joel straightens up, clears his throat, and thanks the waiter with another nod. His palm runs along the bar toward your arm, which he takes, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, and he nods again toward the doors.

----------

Dinner was as fucking extreme as all of this has been. Food you’d never seen before, a menu you could barely translate even with language experience. Waiters who arrived at your table if you so much as looked up at them.

And more wine. A lot more wine.

You both stumble back into the suite, arms linked, laughter chorusing against the beige walls. Joel keeps a vice grip on your hand as you spin around him, wrapping you up in his arms when you’re close enough, and runs a thumb across your cheek when you’ve stopped giggling.

“That was fun,” he says, and you nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For all of it. I don’t even know what to say.”

He shakes his head in response. “You’re my guest.”

“Didn’t have to be,” you say, “could’ve brought Martha.”

“Oh, yeah, Martha. She’d be a fuckin’ hoot.”

He lets go of you, your laughter picking back up, and you split off. Joel wanders over to the minibar, and you…you wander off down the hall.

You’ve something in mind.

Safely in the bedroom, you slink over to your case and lift the bag you’d hidden in there earlier. You sneak into the bathroom, closing the door as softly as possible, and whip your little black dress over your head. You turn back to the mirror.

Same reflection as before. Same naked body. A little faded, a little unfocused, jewelry catching the light like stars in the night sky, but the same.

You reach into the white bag, like it’s a lucky draw, and lift out the soft black lace. One by one, you add each little piece – the bra cups your breasts, lifting them just the right amount. The panties sit on your hips, garter belt just above, hooked onto thigh-high, lace top stockings. And finally, the robe.

You tie it loosely at your waist, leaving it just open enough to reveal the balconette bra underneath. One last hazy look in the mirror, and you tumble back out into the bedroom and over to the door.

Your fingers clutch the gold handle, shaking a little. The cold metal bites against your skin, hot with adrenaline and determination. You twist, pulling gently on the door, and wander back to the living room.

The lights are still out, the room dark against the sparkling cityscape. There’s soft music playing, some seventies soul stuff. He’s on the balcony. The sliding doors open wide, sheer curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. His silhouette stands black against the glittering Eiffel Tower in front of him. He’s holding a whiskey.

You slip out from behind the door and let it close over gently, walking slowly across the soft carpet toward him. He can’t have heard you, you’re being too quiet, but he turns anyway, and spots you in the middle of the room.

His eyes rake down your figure, mouth falling agape. Whiskey almost spilling over from how limp his arms fall.

“Baby…” he whispers.

You take another step forward. So does Joel. Your hand reaches for the back of one of the chairs, tucked neatly under the dining table. You drag it along the carpet, setting it just in front of you, facing him, and stand back.

“Want you to sit.”

Joel nods, a voiceless Okay sneaks past his lips, and he sits back in the chair, placing the whiskey at his feet.

The song fades into a steady love song, string orchestra echoing in the background, slow, sultry. The smooth vocals fill the room, quiet and relaxing, and push you nearer him, rounding the back of the chair.

Your hands run over Joel’s shoulders as you curve around to face him, and slot in between his parted thighs. Watching as his eyes shift up and down your figure. Watching as his breath hitches, his chest shuddering anytime you move.

You’re ignoring the rise and fall of your own chest; nerves and desire and complete fucking disbelief at what you’re doing all fighting to break through. Your stomach is flipping, pulse jerking every time your eyes cross paths with Joel’s.

You nudge his legs open wider, lift his wrists, and place his hands on your waist. His fingers pull on the silk belt, loosening your robe until he’s slipping it over your shoulders, revealing every inch of lace and strap of satin to his lust-blown eyes.

“This all for me?” he asks, fucking…wonderstruck. His fingers dance along the garter belt, dipping where it clips onto your stockings.

You cock your head in a shrug. “You paid for it.”

He smiles. As if it’s Christmas and you just gave him the gift at the top of his wish list. And then you bend your knees, lowering between his thighs and dragging your hands down his front, stopping by his stiffening crotch as you go.

Joel hisses through clenched teeth, spurring you on. You palm him through his trousers, never touching his zipper, only letting him go so far as grinding his hips into your hands, before your palms slip down to his knees and you push yourself up.

Joel meets you halfway, leans forward to let your lips ghost across his. Your back arched, knees digging into the plush carpet, you trail your tongue from his chin down his bearded jawline, stopping when you reach the collar of his shirt.

And then you stand again, taking his hands and replacing them on your body. Anywhere on your fucking body. Feeling him on you is like feeling the soothing flicker of the fire after a walk in the freezing cold, and when his palms aren’t pressing against your ribcage, his fingers aren’t running between your thighs, that bitter cold bites back.

Joel hums, still taking you in through glassy eyes. “So…fuckin’ beautiful, babygirl.”

In response, you lift your knees, placing them one by one on either side of his hips. You settle against his body and push him back in the chair.

Your clothed heat lowers onto his waist, lace running across the rough fabric of his trousers, forcing a choked moan from your lips at the contact. Your skin alight, nerves burning with excitement and arousal, the slightest touch only fuels the fire more.

You grind down on him, hips rocking in time with the music. Letting his hands hold you around your back, letting him feel any part of you he fucking wants. His fingers knead roughly into your round ass, and he bucks up against your core.

You hover over him, running a hand from your stomach over your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits through your bra. And then back down again, to slip over the lace of your panties and relieve the tension there even if only for a second before you’re feeling down your thighs.

You link your arms back around Joel’s shoulders. “You gonna pay me back?” you whisper, head lowering to bury into his neck.

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he slurs back.

You suck a mark into the hot skin, breathing against his pulse, “Think you do, daddy. You owe me one.”

His head rolls, bass of his laughter vibrating against your lips. “So fuckin’ slutty, darlin’. You want it that bad?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, lips still tight against his neck, fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt lower and lower.

Joel told Martha he needed you here only to keep him right. Make sure he got everywhere on time, make sure things ran smoothly. Drop off drycleaning, pick it up before he had appearances. Get him pastries from that patisserie he loves around the corner for breakfast. There’s an empty suite downstairs that he made her book for you – an almost three grand per night suite that you both knew the entire fucking time you’d never set foot in. All to keep up with the story.

The story that you’re here strictly on PA duty. Seeing him off in cars, making sure he gets back to the hotel at night. And that’s it. Not buying lingerie with his card, and putting it on for him, and mounting him in the living room of his suite. Not letting him slip your panties to the side and run his cock through your folds, balcony doors wide open, moans escaping out into the late Parisian night.

But now his hands are on you, really on you; strong, wide hands, slipping around your waist, pressing down on the lace of your lingerie, massaging the softest parts of your body and scooping under your ass to align you to his length.

And you’re letting him.

Your hands are sifting through his hair as he breathes you in, his nose buried between your breasts. Your back arches when he finally enters you, giving you what you need most in the form of his thick cock pushing up into your warm cunt.

Like there’s nothing new, or weird, or different. Like this is all you know how to do; all you’ve ever known about him. You’re not in the office; he’s not your boss. He doesn’t tell you to shred files or organize his schedule.

This is what he does. This. He asks things of you with his hands and you fold every time. He runs his lips along the curve of your breasts and peels the delicate fabric of your bra down to wrap his mouth around your nipple, flick his tongue across it until your head rolls back and you’re moaning his name to the ceiling.

“Make yourself cum, baby,” Joel breathes against your hot skin.

His tongue is swirling around your nipple. Teeth grazing the pointed bud. He’s grinning to himself as he does it. He’s fucking lapping this up.

“So pretty when you’re wrapped around me.”

And then his fingers are toying with the clasp of your bra, and as you sink down over and over on his cock, he lets the cupped lace fall to the floor, lips instantly returning to their place on your tits.

You hold his head there, looking down and watching while you slowly bounce on his cock as he kisses, caresses, sucks.

The pleasure boiling between your legs starts to spill over, your body unable to take much more without releasing. And when Joel mumbles against your skin, “Can feel you, darlin’, squeezing me so tight,” you let go.

Your orgasm, nearly four hours in the making, rocks through your body in tidal waves, throwing your head back. Joel’s arms keep you safe on his lap as you writhe, gasping and moaning his name until you can think straight again.

When you come back to, he lifts you up. Carries you like you’re made of diamonds through to the bedroom and lays you down on the soft mattress, calling you angel, telling you you’re the prettiest fuckin’ girl he’s ever seen.

He dips his fingers and traces them along your panties, feeling the mess you just made, humming in amusement. He asks again if this is all for him and when you moan out a desperate Yeah, daddy, he tells you he’s gonna make you cum again.

He takes your waist and flips you over, propping you up on your knees in front of him. He peels the white shirt from his shoulders, tossing it somewhere in the dark room, and asks if that’s what you want – to cum again. Yeah, daddy.

And when he asks who this tight little pussy belongs to, leaning forward to align with your wet mess of a cunt, your thighs spreading to accommodate the size of him, every fucking nerve in your body on fire: You, daddy.

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first.

“Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.”

“Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?”

“No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

Every fucking time. Every mindless, depraved time, you do it for him. Only for him.

You cum again on his cock before he’s even five thrusts in. His words send you hurtling over the edge by themselves; the massive dick burying itself between your legs is just a bonus – and something to let your walls clamp around when your back arches, chest pushes into the mattress, and your orgasm floods over you.

Joel rocks his hips slowly as you come down, cunt swollen and almost agony. His hands run from your thighs up around the globe of your ass, massaging gently. You push back, wanting more pressure from his hands, and his fingers slip against your tight hole.

You jut forward with a moan. A moan Joel knows all too well.

“Easy, easy.” He holds you steady, replacing his fingers against your asshole, pressing delicately. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” you breathe, “mhm.”

“Yeah?”

You’re nodding, though you know he can’t see you in the dark.

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” you choke out. Desperate. Depraved.

He lifts his hand and spits; you feel a bead of saliva dribble down your ass, only to be collected by the pads of his fingertips and dragged back up. Smeared over the ring of your ass, massaged into the sensitive skin around it.

“Daddy…” you moan, hips gyrating.

“’s a good girl,” Joel replies, “just relax, darlin’, you do that for me?”

You can hear in his voice he’s focusing. Eyes glued on your ass, watching as you open up around his first finger, pushing slowly inside.

Your whole body freezes as he enters you. Breath cuts short in your throat. Your mouth falls open, throat constricted around a moan.

“Breathe, babygirl.”

And you do. Well, it’s more of a gasp, a broken whine, and then a long, needy sigh, curled up at the end like it’s a request – a plea for Joel to keep going.

It’s tight. It feels…tender, and overwhelming, and good. More than good. Your hips move backward, pushing onto Joel; a swelling feeling overcoming you, the more of him you take.

“Good girl…” he whispers again.

You’re as fucking shocked as he is that you’re letting him do it – letting him slip inside both holes at once, exploring one while keeping the other content with lazy thrusts.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

“Yeah, daddy,” you tell him, body urging him to fuck you again.

So, he does. His cock picks up speed, finger knuckle-deep, curling around inside your ass. You’re gripping the bedsheets, whimpering softly into them, feeling your stomach tighten as your third orgasm begins to rise.

“Keep – doing – that,” you utter as his hips collide with yours, his thick finger picking up pace ever so slightly.

“Such a dirty girl. So fuckin’ dirty for me. You do this for all of ‘em, baby?”

The laugh you breathe answers his question. No, you don’t fucking do this – for anyone. You didn’t know until five minutes ago this was something you were into. It’s Joel. He’s the only one who could convince you – whether through his words, his expressions, or just his fucking body – to –

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Know you are, pretty girl,” Joel says, “let me feel you. Cum all over me.”

Your body collapses when your high takes over. Electricity thrumming through you, contracting around Joel’s cock and his finger. He coos you through it, whispers words of praise and filth in your ear until you’re no longer screaming, no longer able to hold yourself up.

He slowly removes his finger, soaked with his spit. You whine as it leaves you, missing the feeling, but it’s not long before his hands are on you again, flipping you back over.

He drags the clothes from his legs and pushes you up the mattress, slotting between your hips, one hand coming down to grip the lace front of your panties. He rips it, tearing the material off of your body in one motion.

You gasp, equal parts aroused as you are fucking outraged. You liked those panties. You wanted to keep ‘em.

“Fuck, Joel!”

He pushes back against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to dot kisses along your skin.

“Buy you more, baby.”

“This whole getup,” you moan, “it cost you a grand.”

He lifts his head. “Well, in that case,” he kisses your collarbone, “buy you ten more.”

Your eyes roll back and your head follows, sinking deep into the sheets under your body. You’re sure you know where this is going, what he’s about to ask of you. You’re not sure you can give it to him. Three orgasms deep, you can barely feel when he’s massaging your sex, never mind lining his cock to it and pushing the tip inside.

“One more, angel,” he utters, looking down to guide himself through your glistening folds. “Just one more.”

“Can’t, daddy,” you whimper, but he pushes your thighs up, bending your knees. It’s borderline painful, the stretch you feel when he’s barely an inch inside.

“Yes, you can. Know you can.”

He could fuck you and cum himself without asking you to – and you’d be okay with it. You know it. He knows it. Just a few tight, wet thrusts and he’d be coming undone inside you. But he wants to do it together. Loves the way you feel when you tighten around him, squeeze him, draw his release out of him. Loves the way your voices sound together, the way you grip onto him and pull him flush against your body.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, too. The way he looks when he’s deep inside you, eyes shut, focused on nothing except the pretty noises you make and the sweet way you wrap around him, warm and snug. So you let him take you to the edge again, throw your arms around him, and fall.

Hard.

The shock of it surges through you, stars burst across your vision. You drive your nails into his shoulders, scream out into the night, moans mixed with curses and gasps and – fuck it – cries of daddy loud enough that the thought of a noise complaint at your door floats through your mind.

Joel lets out a deep groan when he cums, filling your tight cunt with his seed, face still buried in your neck. Your legs untense, thighs slip down his waist and onto the bed, your arms unlink from around his neck.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your skin.

You’re panting, chest lifting against Joel’s. He pushes into the mattress and rolls off of you, dropping in a heap to the bed at your side. You lay like that for a while, waiting for the fluttering feeling to subside, waiting for any feeling to come back to your body.

Joel pushes off of the bed and dips into the bathroom, still groaning anytime he moves. Water runs for a couple minutes, a gentle whirring as he cools his face and washes up, and then he’s back in the bedroom, sinking into the bed beside you.

He props himself up on his elbow and runs a hand across your damp forehead, unsticking your hair from your face. Intimate, vulnerable. You’ve slept together four times now, and this is the closest you’ve felt to him.

You push down an ache, different to the one he just satisfied – four times over. No, this is deeper. Somewhere more hidden. An ache for him to hold you, run his hands down your back until your body feels like yours again. An ache for him to take you in his strong arms and keep you still, keep you steady.

An ache that feels…dangerous. An ache you want to disappear. Now.

“You okay?” Joel asks, and you nod.

He studies you for a while, looking up and down your body, smiling to himself. This isn’t something either of you are going to forget for a while.

“What’s this?”

Joel takes gentle hold of the gold chain around your sweat-glistening neck, running it between his fingers until he’s holding one half of a broken heart.

“Notice you wearin’ it all the time.”

You take a deep breath before replying, watching as he looks at it intently in his hand. “My mom has the other half. It makes up a heart. We got ‘em when I was sixteen, right after…”

Joel’s eyes drift up to yours when your sentence crumbles. His soft gaze encourages you to continue.

“…right after my dad left.”

He almost winces.

You’d always hated Wednesdays. Wednesdays meant Math, and Math meant two hours of sitting in total confusion, dodging your teacher’s requests for answers and counting down the minutes until class ended.

But your dad told you that you should do well in it, so you were trying. For him.

One Wednesday, Miss Pepperman handed out the results of the previous week’s test. You’d scored well, maybe not as good as some of the others, but decent by your own standards. You snuck the test paper into your bag to take back home, show your dad. Make him…proud.

When you rounded the corner to your street, his car was in the drive, trunk wide open. Suitcases inside. You caught him leaving as you wandered by the beat-up Toyota.

Your mom wants you in the house, he’d said, a cardboard box of files in his clutches.

You tried to ask what the fuck was going on, but he’d yelled at you and thrown the box into his back seat. And then you brought up the test paper, twisted around to fish it out of your bag, like some stupid C would convince him to stay. He yelled louder, and you disappeared inside like a spooked cat.

Your mom was on the couch, face in her hands. She lifted her head, cheeks stained with mascara and tears. As you sat down beside her, you heard the engine of his car roll away. You never saw him again.

You don’t tell Joel all of this. He doesn’t need to know, and he doesn’t ask. Telling him about the C in Math risks telling him about the way your dad looked at you when you held up the crumpled paper, and that risks telling him about everything you’ve ever held back from saying to anyone, for fear of seeing that same bored, disappointed expression.

It feels like a hand you’re not quite ready to play just yet. An ace or two missing, only a couple of cards off of feeling confident enough to show him.

Instead, you shrug, and say, “That was…thirteen years ago now. And we just never take ‘em off. It’s like our little promise to, like…stay together, or whatever.”

He nods, letting the necklace rest back on your naked chest.

There’s something in the air between you. Quiet, unassuming. An understanding, though you’re not sure what of. But it feels comfortable, which you weren’t expecting when he asked the question. Nobody knows much about you and your dad – not even your closest friends. And here you are, naked and exhausted, letting the words tumble out to none other than your boss.

But he’s so blasé about it, so unperturbed by it that, if he hadn’t been the one to ask himself, you could mistake it for disinterest. He just listens, nods, and lets it pass over. Lets you drop it, when you’re done talking about it.

For the second time tonight, this time a little more sober but a little less guarded, you say, “Kiss me.”

And this time, he doesn’t ask you to speak French. Doesn’t make any witty quip, doesn’t warn you you’re walking dangerous territory. Doesn’t even hesitate, not for a beat. Just leans in, cups your cheek with one hand, and presses his lips to yours.

Warm, sweaty, almost quivering lips. Soft, and kind, and safe. You melt into him, wrapping both hands around his wrist, shutting your eyes and pretending just for a moment that you’re not teetering along a knife edge right now.

You pull back, losing your balance on the tightrope you’re walking, and Joel’s hand slowly drops from your face. His eyes ask if you’re okay, and you nod. I’m fine. This is fine.

“Alright,” he says, sitting up with a sigh. “You want a drink?”

You nod again. “Water, please.”

He strokes your thigh once and walks out of the room, leaving you in the quiet dark by yourself.

You bring your fingertips up to your eyes. Exhale deeply into the palms of your hands. Think about what just happened, and then tell yourself not to think much about it. Think about that fucking twinge in the bottom of your stomach, the one that felt like…yearning. And then tell yourself, fucking – order yourself not to read too much into it, or you’ll drive yourself up the wall.

Because the truth of it is: you’ve one more full day in Paris, and you highly suspect that what happened here tonight, is gonna happen all over again tomorrow. And that leaves room for that yearning feeling to come back. Resurface, like a silent predator in murky waters.

That won’t happen tomorrow. It can’t happen tomorrow.

You stand and throw that white terrycloth robe over yourself, heading for the living room.

----------

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[cherryclitgirl]

THE GODS V

Summary : Most of the records which told the story of the third daughter of Aeny’s Targaryen had been altered, some on purpose while others were changed for safe keeping. Not much is known of the princes during her time at Driftmark, or when she first became Maegor’s fourth wife. But when they sing her songs and tell her story, the word cursed is not missed. Such sad tragedy of a girl condemned to suffer in the hands of the gods.

AN: Hey guys sorry for not updating in a while I got caught up w school and other things, anyways I aged Baelon, Rhaenor and Aella so it fits better. I hope you all have a good Easter! I also made a TikTok account. Sorry for some mistakes!

Tw: Targcest, age gap, child loss.

Tiktok : @cherryclitgirl

First flashback : Alyssa could have not asked for a more patient and understanding daughter. Whose laughter brought her hope amidst the current turbulence. She was gentle, happy and full of life. Her only desire was to make her siblings laugh. Taking the expected role due to her situation the young girl spend countless nights and days providing support to both her mother and siblings. Her uncle had been kind enough to allow Alyssa to return to Driftmark, although he feared the new self appointed king, he was also prideful man who upheld his family and the name they carried.

Daemon Velaryon the older brother of Alyssa Velaryon place his hand on his son’s shoulder. A handsome boy of nineteen with purple eyes and white curls. Tall and lean he wore his sea blue attire with black boots and his sword strapped to his belt. Corwyn was his oldest son and heir who had taken a liking to his cousin soon after her arrival.

His father had allowed such relationships to flourish but once he took notice that his son planned on marrying the girl, he decided to intervene. “She is promised to another “ Daemon told him son his voice firm as his grip.

“Does she know that?” Asked Corwyn as looked up at his father, he was almost as tall as him which added to his confidence. Daemon said nothing and for a moment the only sound was the singing of Skyfyre. The dragon was large but still smaller than Dreamfyre and Quicksilver, nonetheless it provided small comfort to Daemon. Knowing there was a dragon guarding Driftmark soothed the ever so chills he got when the thought of Maegor.

“Not yet” Daemon took his hand off Corwyn’s shoulder, his look drifting to the Targaryen children playing on the beach. Viserys walked alone picking shells and throwing them back into the water, Alyssane was in her wet nurse arms and Jaehaerys sat on his sister’s lap. The children did not belong there, despite being half Velaryon they did not connect to the sea the way their mother did. They were fire and blood, they mounted and tame beast as large as castles. But now they were just children, children in danger who put the entirety House of Velaryon at stake.

He had spoken with Dowager queen Visenya, she had personally asked about his niece, and agreed to convinced Maegor to spare House Velaryon if he convinced Alyssa to give up her daughter.

He had spoken to Alyssa although he did not tell truth, he made sure his sister was aware of the terms she was agreeing. By providing some comfort that Aegon would reclaim the iron throne, she reluctantly agreed for her daughter became ward of Maegor and his wives. Those were the terms Alyssa believed to have agreed to, but unbeknownst to her, Visenya had plans of wedding the princess to Maegor. Plans only Daemon knew about, he would not risk Driftmark for his niece.

The princess handed Jaehaerys back to his wet nurse and watched as her siblings made their way back into the keep. She bit the inside of her cheek fighting back emotions. She could not understand the heavy feeling in her heart. Why she cried in the dead of night, why she felt like an outsider in the places she was meant to call home. Her mind wondered away from the troubles but her body remained and walked the halls of Driftmark. Filled with sorrow and grief she missed her father, and wondered if her mother missed him the way she did. He used to sing songs to her and was gentle with her. Something she missed dearly. The salty air seeped into her nose and her ears welcomed the sound of the waves crashing into the rocks, a few salt droplets found their way to her face and the damp sand stained her blue gown.

Her mother gently touch her arm and felt her daughter tense slightly before letting go. “I did not mean to scare you” her mother said with a rueful smile. Her daughter although physically next to her bore an absent face, she licked her lips feeling the copper taste of blood inside her mouth. She had drifted away and forgotten she was biting the inside of her cheek.

“Has Rhaena written?” She asked her mother, the princess spend more time waiting for her sister’s letter than anything else. Alyssa shook her and took her daughter’s arm “Walk with me” together they made their way down the beach spotting crabs digging in the sand and seagulls flying over head.

“Blue looks good on you” Alyssa complemented, she told no lies. The Velaryon blue looked lovely on her daughter, and she had insisted she wore normal gowns instead of the traditional black mourning gowns. Despite e having six children, Alyssa found herself closer to her second daughter, she loved them all equally but her daughter displayed a different kind of tenderness and innocence. At times Alyssa pretended to ignore the looming darkness that surrounded her daughter, waiting to corrupt her at any moment.

“We’ve been here longer than expected “ Her daughter said as they reached a pasture away from the castle. The damp walls no longer made them feel as if they were being watched. “Things have become quite unexpected during our stay” her mother replied, her soft hands never leaving her daughter.

“We were happier before” the princess murmured. Alyssa breathed and tried to smile despite her inner worries “We were…but now alliances must be made to ensure our safety “ she spoke and her daughter listened. Her daughter was by no means happy and had no more strength to hide it. “You are ten and four and have taken a role of a mother, sister and friend “ Alyssa kept her emotions together before returning to speak “What would you think about leaving this place”

A flicker of hope appeared on the princess’s face. She could already picture leaving Westeros, sailing across the narrow sea to one of the free cities. Braavos, Pentos, mayhaps even Qohor or Myr. Something about escaping all responsibilities excited her, it would not even matter if they spend their lives in hiding it was the fact that they could escape. “Where we go?” She asked with doubt.

Alyssa held her hand tightly preparing for the news, “We would stay here…while you go back to King’s Landing”. In an instant the princess hands pulled away from her mother’s. With wistful eyes she swallowed the knot in her throat. She hated crying in front of her mother, it made her ashamed that her mother could tell she was unhappy. Alyssa cupped her daughter’s face stopping the tears before they could form, her voice tender and grave she tried reassuring her daughter. “You will be safe, under the care of queen Alys and Queen Ceryse”. Alyssa wrapped her arms around her, feeling her soft hair against her cheeks, she could only pray her daughter was showed mercy. If not from Maegor but from his wives.

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The earth shook once Vhagar landed on Driftmark, at least that was what the maids said. In truth Visenya had landed in the dead of night and met with Daemon. On the morrow the princess watched her belongings strapped to a wagon while servants prepared the wheelhouse. But she had not spoken to the dowager queen, in fact she had not spoken to anyone. Not even her mother.

Corwyn found her, away from the keep silently standing by the cliff overlooking an empty island just a few miles from Spicetown. He wanted to speak but nothing would come out, his mind blank and his ears ringing he finally spilled out some words. “It would be good place the build a castle” he said his voice breaking her silence.

“It would have to be a massive castle” she replied “Just like Driftmark”. Corwyn stood by her side his eyes scanning her face as the hazzy feeling began to cause him a small pain. Pain that felt good and often happened when he stared at her for too long. She was graceful but hard read, he could not tell if she enjoyed being at Drifmark. He meant no harm yet it found it difficult to know what she felt.

Corwyn only knew one thing, if she married him she would be happy. She would be safe in Drivtmark and the empty island across spice town would be theirs. Their children would be dragon riders and voyagers of the seas. “Stay” he said his voice not a whisper but a declaration.

Looking at him in confusion the princess finally seemed to come to her senses. Before she knew it he had his hands placed on her cheeks, his eyes full of desperation “Stay, I must do this…I must do this now!” his breathing was ragged and anxious. Afraid someone would see them he swallowed a large knot on his throat. “My heart - cannot bear the thought of you leaving” The words seemed to flow out despite his shaking voice. The princess thought about the time she first arrived at Driftmark, he had greeted and taken her to Spicetowm and even Hull. He knew everyone and everything, every ship and every fish and every merchant. He was meant to be Master of Driftmark and lord of the tides. His people needed him, she knew him as the eldest and most mature out of his brothers. Never once she picture him standing confessing himself she had seen a friendship and he had seen love.

“I will free you, and you will be happy…….you are everything, I’ll be yours if you are mine “ Corwyn was heart pounded loudly in his ears. He had been in awe when she arrived at Driftmark that cold and foggy night, she had been led through the castle doors like a ship docking into safety after a storm. She had not spoken much the first few days, but once he heard the melody of her voice he felt the strange sensation in his heart. The feeling of excitement, a rush to hear her speak again. She did, and every time he had listen. He had never been more silent than when she spoke, he took her from Driftmark to Spicetown to Hull, presenting her to anyone that would listen. His father had warned him but he paid no mind. He wanted everyone to know that once day she would be the Lady of Driftmark. He always watched her even if she didn’t know it ,he prayed to the seven that one day she would be his. He would build her a castle on the empty island where the high tide hit the rocks, a castle just for her. Perhaps it was his mistake, he had allowed himself to be a friend to her when in reality he wished to be life long companion. One day, he always told himself. One day she would say yes to him and he would say yes to her.

Calmly the princess placed her hands over his “You’ve been a wonderful experience, Ser Corwyn.”

Once the adrenaline had passed he looked into her purple eyes and saw a girl, not even a woman. He felt a sudden shame washed upon him “forgive me “ he murmured pulling away “That was beneath me, princess” he cleared his throat feeling embarrassed.

The once fluttering warm feeling in his heart now felt like a sinking pit. He looked away avoiding her eyes, afraid she might see the tears flowing away with the air. He must had been quiet for so long because when he did look back she was gone. Though it would be for the best, no amount of words could repare the damage he had caused.

The princess walked back to Castle Driftmark faster than she had left it. But even in her return no one paid her mind, the servants had learned to leave her alone and most of them found her dull. She only spoke with her siblings and her mother and occasionally members of the Driftmark court. Yet again they hardly knew her, her absence would’ve gone unnoticed if she were to marry a common Lord, but with Dowager Queen Visenya sitting at the high table the princess became the most talked topic.

A feast had been laid out for Alyssa and her family, a feast only her and her children attended. Instead of sitting in the lavish hall of castle Driftmark, the five of them sat in their shared chambers. Enjoying meat pies and roasted vegetables, fruits and tarts. The room was illuminated by the fire which allowed warmth in the cold and damp room. Once before they would’ve sat together enjoying the finest of meats and wines, happily exchanging banters and jests, tales from their father and songs from their mother.

Jaehaerys sat on his chair happily playing around wooden dragon gifted my his sister while Alyssane sat on her high chair digging her fingers into a tart. “You think ser Corwyn would let me aboard one the ships “ Viserys asked his mother who seemed lost in her thoughts.

“I’m sure he will” the princess replied cleaning Alysanne’s messy hands. “You will return? Won’t you?” Asked Viserys worriedly.

“Of course she will” Alyssa replied firmly once she caught on “It’s only temporary “ she added rubbing his back “Now, finish your supper” Alyssa tended to avoid her children gaze’s when she lied, but she looked around at pleased, fully knowing her daughter would return once Aegon reclaimed the throne.

“Come on you” hummed the princess taking Alysanne into her arms “I think it’s time she retires that high chair”

For a moment, a slight moment between the frames of struggle and fear the Targaryen’s dined in peace, occasionally laughing at the mishaps of Jaehaerys and tales of Viserys. The fear that once chained Alyssa had been replaced with hope, hope that her family would prevail.

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It seemed like the sky had turned dull in a matter of seconds, the foggy path leading to the wheelhouse was barely visible, now more than ever the smell of the sea seemed to be stronger than ever,and her poor mother still clutched her hand hesitating to let go. “I will write to you, every day” Alyssa whispered cautiously. Nervously she fixed the sides of her dress before placing one last kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “my sweet girl” she hummed.

Alyssa watched her daughter say goodbye to her siblings hugging and kissing each of them, whispering and promising that she would return. With a knot in her throat Alyssa watched her daughter slip through her fingers, her brave girl she thought as her daughter climbed into the wheelhouse. She did not dare to look away, how long had it been it since her daughter climbed into her lap, how long would it be before she could hug her once more. She watched unable to move or stop the door from being shut. Frozen in pain her heart ached and suddenly the hope she once had was slowly vanishing. Please mother have mercy on her thought Alyssa, it would be just her and there would be no difference. For as long as Aegon did not sat the iron throne, his sister would suffer. Perhaps she would suffer regardless if he sat the throne.

Bravely the princess exhaled once the door of the wheelhouse closed. A thrill of anguish ran through her body, Aegon will come she thought. In the meanwhile she would obey the wives of Maegor, she would be their ward. She doubted that Ceryse Hightower would be there, she had grown around her, in the same halls of the Red Keep. Alys whose name was often slandered seemed to be a rather kind woman from what saw before her uncle was exiled. Her uncle, a stranger to her, someone she never talked but always feared, sure her father had never slandered his name but she did know him and could only picture him as a usurper and pretender. Aegon was the true king and her sister the rightful queen. Her older brother, brave and young would lead an army and sack Kings Landing. She would brave, brave like her sister, her loyalty forever in her family. It would change no matter what she endured.

She would obey and listen to the usurper. She hated treason, the thought of someone being so ambitious that they harm others. The concept of sitting on the iron throne was foreign, she always denied the idea of grasping for power. It was useless to her. Stealing a throne?she thought only a mad man would do such thing.

By the time the door of wheelhouse opened and she was about to get up, the figure of Vinseya appeared blocking the exit “Walk me with me” she commanded stepping away, it was the first time she had acknowledged her, personally at least. The princess stepped out the wheel house her first thought was to look around and once she spotted Skyfyre she felt at ease. The two of them began to stroll away from the wagons and wheelhouse allowing themselves to get further and further until they reach a spot over looking Hull and its busy harbor filled ships and boats, markets and stands, full foods and spices, goods and materials. It was different view for the princess, perhaps she had felt much gloomier when Ser Corwyn took her. Everything seemed much dull and less pleasant when while she was at castle Driftmark.

“You’ve grown into your maiden hood y/n” Vinseya turned to the princess scanning every single detail of her face, her gaze lingered more than the princess would’ve like, studying her gown and its Valeryon colors and patterns and the Jewelry in her hair and hands. She examined her throughly for a couple seconds before finally looking at her,the princess unsure on how to respond nervously smiled “Thank you, your grace” her voice coming out as a murmur to her displeasure.

“It would challenge your position at court, many will question your true intentions with the king but let them think what they must, it is his wives that will decide your faith , jealousy between wives can determine your faith” The princess did not understand the words of Visenya ,her confusion was evident as the queen mother rolled her eyes slightly “You will be with the king, be dutiful and compassionate…gentle, I hear that’s a quality that you have, you will be different but you will not be weak” Vinseya sharpness left the poor princess in a shock and she waited for a response but nothing seem to come.

With no little patience Visenya furrowed her eyebrows and scoffed “You know why you’ve come with me?” She asked and finally the girl answered “To become ward of queen Ceryse and queen Alys” she replied. Visenya wanted laugh maybe even walk away from such ridiculous answer but the honesty in her words made her realize that insipid lord of Driftmark who called himself Daemon Velaryon had lied to the girl. Mayhaps even her mother, it would completely change her plans. The girl was unaware of what awaited her and if she was as sharped tongue as her sister, any marriage Vinseya had in mind would be useless. She kept calm and sighed awkwardly placing her hand on the princess’s shoulder “is your mother under the same impression?” She asked. The princess not wanting to upset Vinseya and still confused on what she meant by ‘dutiful’ nodded.

“No woman would willing..no girl I mean, would willing leave her comfort of her home to marry my son” she said vacantly “This changes everything “ Vinsenya briefly left her side, allowing her to continue gazing into the far distance and into the busy harbor. It would take more bravery than she expected and mayhaps even more cleverness to understand the gravity of her station.

When Visenya returned she held a pouch of coins and vacant expression “Do you see that ship?” She asked looking into the far distance with a simple flag, animals and barrels, meats and fishes were loaded one by one, ready to set to one of the free cities “It will set sail to Tyrosh and then Lys, you heard about Lys haven’t you?” She asked placing her hand on her shoulder guiding her further away “the blood of old Valyria still runs through them, even in the small folk, it’s not the richest but it’s still well advanced” she told her. The princess swallowed hard as Vinseya took her hand and placed the pouch in her palm “You want to help your family don’t you? Unfortunately you and dragon are too young to fight, you thought you were send to become a ward…you poor child. You can take the gold and I’ll see you to Lys, I will tell no one but your dragon must remain here…or you can come with me and you’ll be his queen and live safely and peacefully” The princess did not blink and her glossy eyes looked up at Vinseya with distastefulness, she had been lied to and deceived. Her uncle has plotted against her and her family, he had committed the highest of treason. “I don’t want to his queen“ she said firmly “I want to protect my family.” Visenya sighed this time unable to hide her eyeroll. “I will take your family as my own wards, you have my word”

The princess’s eyes stung from her lack of blinking, she looked down at the golden coins, it was more than enough to leave everything she knew behind “What about my mother? My sister my-“ she shook her head “I cannot abandon my family…. I must protect them” she said handing the pouch back to Visenya. “You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago” she replied guiding her back to the wheelhouse . Freedom was her deepest desire but the love she held for her family was stronger, mayhaps even Visenya related to her. Although marrying her uncle was not her first choice when it came to protecting her family, the thought of being queen consort of the seven kingdoms and having enough power and influence to protect her family made something within her rise. Sure it would be for a time until Aegon took back the throne but she would still taste power. She wanted not the throne and grasping for power was pathetic in her eyes, power was presenting itself to her and she would be a fool if she denied it.

She did not want to be a queen nor his queen she wanted to be the queen.

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Everything in the Red Keep had been changed, from the nobles to her room. Almost every room and hall was occupied with painters and builders who carved into walls and devoted themselves to the Red Keep. The nobles she once grew up around had been replaced with those who favored the king and his queens. House Horroway had taken over the Red Keep as the queen’s family now lived comfortably. “No single trace of Targaryen heraldry remains ” she heard Vinseya say. “I scarcely recognized it” the princess replied gazing up a tapestry of house Horroway. It was insult to Vinseya seeing the banners of her house mingled with the banners of another, a much lesser house in that matter.

Queen Alys had gotten the queen’s chambers that once belonged to Alyssa. As requested by Visenya the princess’s chamber were separated from the rest of the wives although not as grand Visenya reassured her that would change. Although most of the nobles at court had been replaced the very few that remained were to follow where ever the king went. Lucas Harroway the hand of then king waited patiently, he sat the iron through staring down at them as they approached him. His gaze was sharp enough to diminish anyone below him, but not Visenya who did not speak until he rose and descended from the iron throne. “Your grace, princess” he said bowing and barely looking at the girl. “I must apologize for missing your arrival “ he told Visenya.

“You warm my son’s throne while he is fighting for his innocence in Old town, my lord hand. You hang banners and tapestries and bring you flock of hens to the Red Keep, “ She replied, her hostile words not lost on him. “You were left as hand, not as regent. You are new your station but I will not allow House Horroway continue this insult” she sneered.

Lucas shifted and gestured for them to walk out of the throne room. “Not at all your grace” he said defensively “My daughter , the queen has set forth some of the changes, which the king did not deny” he turned to the girl standing behind Vinseya. Her hands behind her back, graceful and young. Her dress a white and pink color with golden embroidered flowers and gems, her silver hair braided in with a shimmering net. Her hands bore rings and her ears pearls with a pink stones. He did not say a word to her but his eyes spoke hundreds. He ignored her for the rest of the walk, it did not matter to her as she ignored their conversation. Only focusing on the changes of the Red Keep. Pausing every now and then on the spots she and her siblings had once shared. Where Viserys read, where Aegon polished his sword, where Rhaena braided her hair, where Alyssane and her mother always sat.

Vinseya allowed her to retire to her chambers leaving both her and Lord Lucas behind.

“You have brought the king a child” Lord Lucas scoffed. Vinseya paused her steps “Mind your tongue, my Lord hand. “ she spoke cooly “She is maiden and the rightful wife to my son.” She continued walking with him until they were away from any passing noble

“Your plans of marrying Princess y/n to his grace are….desparte. Allow yourself to retire to Dragonstone and live as the Dowager queen whilst my daughter grants his grace children” His words were useless to Visenya who shook her head.

“Horroway children, not Targaryen. The king has agreed to the match, he agrees a Targaryen marriage will continue our line before the vulture’s come for what remains of my nephew’s” she said

“You’ve brought that girl in a pathetic attempt to regain favor with the king” he shot back silently seething

“You forget yourself Horroway, I am the mother of your king, I conquered the seven kingdoms with my brother, I will not lose them to you. Next time your tongue falters I shall see it removed.” Visenya said

That night the princess did not sleep, she stirred in her bed feeling the soft mattress beneath her, so soft it began to swallow her. Her mind was full with the thoughts of her siblings, did Jaehaerys and Alyssane miss her the way she did? Was Viserys safe? Were Aegon and Rhaena well?. She felt useless at times, her soul a duality between the love she bore for the family, the need to protect them from harm and obey the law and uphold what was expected of her and an unknamed feeling. A hatred for everything, a feeling that plagued her mind like a disease begging to be let out, waiting to corrupt her and allow it self to fill her with sins. The feeling that made her paranoid, that compelled her to do vile things, A feeling that made her have a need for control , the feeling that at times seemed to pull her away from her sanity.

She stopped dreaming, thinking her dreams would bring misfortune to her line she allowed the feeling to feast on her dreams. She closed her eyes thought about what it would like to be queen, she never imagined it but now that she was in the Red Keep so she allowed herself to do so. It’s not jealousy, she thought as she remembered Rhaena. She would be Aegon’s queen, it was true she had never been jealous of her sister, but now she would allow herself to see herself next to the king.

Since her arrival she had always broken fast with Vinseya. The first morning had been silent and as the days went by Visenya told her tales of the conquest, her passion for magic and her desire to keep the Targaryen line pure. They both sat facing each other enjoying bread ; honey, bacon , fruits and fish. “I was told you were paid visit by the Alys sisters” Visenya spoke as she reached for a glass of water.

The princess nodded as she spread jelly on her bread “Lady Jeyne and Hanna had been dear to me” she told her aunt. Visenya hummed “I would not be too comfortable, your words will find a way into Alys’s ears.” The princess mentally slapped her self for being stupid, of course Lady Jeyne and Lady Hanna would pretend to her friend, her mistake only further proved to Visenya she was just a naive girl.

“We ride for Oldtown in two days time” Visenya told the girl. She princess paused looking confused “But we’ve only just arrived” she protested.

“Indeed” Visenya dismissed. “You will wed the king in the stary sept, and in time you will be the wife he needs” she explained. “I found that my sister was able to gain favor with my brother by using her gentle heart.” She paused her eyes becoming vacant for a moment “Ceryse is a pious woman with a barren womb, Alys and her father the hand , vulture around the throne anxious to see their blood set over ours. Tyanna has her claws on Maegor, even if he constantly reminds me she nurtured him back to health it does not allow her to pour her honey down his ear. Both Alys and Tyanna manipulate my son, it makes him weak.”

The princess looked down at her food and thought about the times her father had been referred as weak. “You want me to love him?” She said raising her gaze.

“You’re perfect aren’t you?”Visenya smiled “I loved my sister, and that love made me care for your father in his final days. But it was the love for Aegon that makes me see that our line prevails. You will be responsible for it, you will care for Maegor, show him a gentle touch and warm heart, you will love him”

Those words looped in her mind from that day on, even when she stood outside the hall of the Hightower in her wedding gown, soon be bound to Maegor . She had no family to walk her down the aisle. She always pictured her fathering doing the honor. The dress was a rich cream color, adorned with dark red and gold embroidery forming a dragon at her bodice, small red wings sewed into the hem of the long open sleeves, pearls and rubies decorated her neck and ears, the half circled headband felt heavy, so many jewels and stones shining brightly. The headband had been a gift from her future husband, it was beautiful that she would not deny. Yet the guilt of accepting from him ate her alive. She would have to love him, loving him would be enough to keep her family safe. She would do her duty even if it meant chaining herself to role she was never meant to play.

Inside the hall Maegor kissed Ceryse’s hand, she leaned into his touch smiling at the pleasant sight of every noble gathering together on the third night of their celebration. She was to return to King’s Landing with him and his two wives, she had promised to accept them, she was his true wife and would not diminish herself to jealousy . He rose from the seat, holding up his goblet full of wine, taking a long sip he gestured the new high septon to come forward. “My Lord’s, ever since the conquest House Targaryen has followed its valyrian traditions, they will not end during my reign, there is only one woman that can bring back those customs “ Maegor’s deep voice boomed around the silent hall, Ceryse’s smile vanished, she looked up at him and back to the large doors puzzled, her eyes landed on Alys who looked absent in the moment.

Alys had prayed her father’s r words were not true, even when her sister’s wrote to her warning her that Visenya had brought forth Maegor’s niece, she still begged him not to marry her, the girl was young and inexperienced, she wouldn’t serve the king much use. Nonetheless she kept her chin high her mask of honor covering the boiling jealousy within her, although her eyes spoke more than she did

Tyanna had never seen a Targaryen princess, the sight of one intrigued her, by the reaction of the women beside her she could envision a silver haired maiden, much younger, much perfect. A graceful princess ready to cast down the queens. She not to far from the truth, she leaned back on her chair preparing for what was to come.

The princess y/n held her breath, her stomach sinking further down. The eyes of the nobles pierced through her she stood by door her ears catching small whispers around her. The hall was lavish, decorated and the torches on the wall shone brightly with white fire, the Hightower’s abilities in Alchemy never failed to amaze her. She dared not to lower gaze, her feet moved on their own, the hall seemed to stretch out making it longer to reach the high seat. She swallowed the copper taste in her mouth. House Stokeworth was the first to raise their fidelity still with the memory of her father. Soon every house in the hall rose, each of them knowing something she didn’t.

She reached the end of the isle, Visenya whispered something to her son and he nodded. Extending his hand to her, he smiled. A genuine smile that brought heat to her face.He was tall, muscular and broad. His silver hair was cut short and the conqueror’s crown rested perfectly upon his head. His armor and cape were deepest of blacks with richest of reds. He was handsome, she felt guilt for thinking he was handsome.

Maegor never paid attention to his niece’s and nephews. They were loud and insipid, his brother never accomplished discipline with them, and for a time he ignored the children. That until he witness his niece lash into Lord Ambrose after he questioned the maiden hood of her older sister. He could not ignore her then, she was different from her siblings and she knew it well. Yet she refused to acknowledge it. She looked at his hand and slowly took it. Her smile was small, her touch was delicate and nervous, pure and perfect. Much gentle than his other wives. He took time to appreciate her, his eyes analyzing everything about her and as the high septon spoke his words and she said vows, his eyes never left her. Beautiful, untouched and perfect. Her gaze was on the ribbon as it was tied to their hands, finally after he placed the clock on her and leaned to kiss, his words found her ear “you did perfect, my dear wife”.

Maegor had savored the kiss longer than she had expected, true she had never kissed anyone but she too felt her lips glued to him, her hand on his jaw feeling the shaved skin. He inhaled her scent of rose milk and honey until he could no longer kiss her. The feast was grand and she sat by his side, she felt the eyes of his wives on her, Queen Ceryse her aunt by marriage, the woman had seen her come into the world, the thought of stealing her husband became split in my mind. Whilst she knew nothing of Tyanna of Pentos, she knew more of Alys Horroway. She recalled the day the her uncle had taken her to wife and although her father was not please he was not angry, her father had never been angry. Yet his council members urged him to punish Maegor, that was the last he saw of the two of them.

Her eyes left the wives and as she scanned the hall she saw him Daemon Velaryon speaking with some of the members of House Velaryon, enjoying himself in the comforts the King had provided. Unbothered with the fact he had lied to her mother and sold her off to wed Maegor. She had a clear view of everyone, all the nobles enjoying themselves eating and drinking she swore she could hear the chewing of those around her. Her eyes fluttered I’m surprised as a large suckling pig was slammed into the table by cooks, its skin greasy and golden. Decorated beautifully with vegetables and fruit. Was it a jest? She thought as she stared at a small flower crown in the pigs head. Was the pig meant to be her? Her paranoid began to set in and the full plate of food below her seemed to grow less appetizing, it’s not like she aten anything or drank anything. “I have something for you” his ice cold voice said leaning to her. She finally tore her eyes from the plate and smile warmly, she would put her best act for Visenya, the wedding meant that she would keep her word and protect her family. “Another?” She said timidly as Maegor glance at her wedding headband . “Yes, another “ he said gesturing a servant to place a small wooden box before her. She slowly opened the hard decorative surface to reveal a large golden necklace with a three headed dragon decorated with rubies and pearls, below it laid other jewels waiting for the be worn. She did not notice Maegor’s smile or the fact that most of the nobles watched her admire the necklace, but if she did she wouldn’t have cared.

Before the feast ended he stood up once more, she looked back at Visenya who gave her a slight nod. She took his large hand and stood up as well and soon all of the eyes watched as they left arm in arm. The chambers were illuminated by the bright white flames hanging on the walls and the walls of the canopy had been let down creating a secluded box for them to enjoy.

He took off his armor by himself, it was her sign to undress as it was expected during her wedding day. The first item that came off was the headband, she took a breath and began to undo the back of her dress, thankful that the handmaidens had done a simple knot. She felt his hand caressing the sides of her hips, slithering up against her, he pushed her hair to side and gently made her face him, his eyes were full of hunger. The last garment fell of her body leaving her bare and vulnerable for him, his large thumb circle her breast with anticipation, he looked from her chest into her purple eyes and she met his gaze with a smile of approval.

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If Maegor loved his niece that would not be known, ask anyone who was not present during their marriage and their words would differ from the reality. Maegor favored his niece in various ways, with the construction of the Red Keep he order the masons to add some of her features into the carved statues. He showered her with jewels, perfumes and the finest of silks and velvets. More to the displeasure of the three queens, he spend more of free time with the young princess.

She would trim his hair, shave his beard, or run his bath, sit in his chamber and attend to him when needed. Although callow at pleasure he found himself to be at ease when he was around her. “Where is your dragon now?” He asked as watched her put down the scissors “ In dragon stone, your grace” she said her fingers lingering on his spiky beard. He hummed in response letting her stay close to him for a moment “Dragons are restless creatures you know? How was it did you claimed Skyfyre?”. She smiled “My sister Rhaena, she placed an dragon egg on my cradle, the egg belonged to Dreamfyre, your grace”

“If you wish to ride your dragon, you may do so but you will not fly away from King’s Landing….Dreamfyre and Quicksilver have gone missing” He stood up from his chair towering over her “Any thoughts of where they have gone?” He asked gently pushing her hair back. She did not look away from and shook his head “ No, your grace.” she stepped aside allowing him to return to his desk. She bowed her head and was ready to leave when he looked back and shook his dead “Don’t, your presence is soothing.”

Her heart flutter and she nodded taking a seat in one of the free chairs. On a small wooden table laid a small pouch with her name written on it “Go on” he said pouring himself wine “Open it.”

She carefully l opened the pouch and inside rested a silver dragon, she cradled the figure and ran her finger down its sharp spine poking her finger. “Do you like it?” He asked to which she nodded happily “I do-“ The door of the room opened revealing Alys. She held a scroll in her hand her chest rising up and down but before she could speak Maegor interrupted her “Go, I’ll call for you later”. Without another word the princess left the door shutting down before her. She didn’t even had time to admire her silver dragon, instead she carefully tucked it away.

She began to stroll down the halls of the Red Keep, up and down stairwells. Admiring the progress the builders had made. Taking note of the details in Maegor’s court. For one Maegor did not have white cloaks following him around, not that it was necessary. His court was large but not many people came and went. Although it was quite active most of them behaved accordingly afraid to upset the king. Visenya had recently left to attend some matters which she did not disclosed with her, and ever since her departure she felt the eyes of House Horroway following her every move. Lucas Horroway she began to loath, the man had refused to host her brother and sister at Harrenhal, causing Aegon and Rhaena to camp outside along with their party. She might had gone her entire life without hearing the tale of it weren’t for Lucas himself bragging about it. There a few nobles she did enjoy being around, her favorite Lord Tymond, younger brother to lord Lyman Lannister had been her companion and suggested she be foster at Casterly Rock, though she knew his true nature it did not stop her father from suggesting a marriage between them. If she could she would summon him to court without a second thought.

She walked until she reached the galleries over looking the gardens, only to find them occupied by Tyanna sitting eating grapes. She wore a long purple dress , her silver earrings dangling as she made herself more comfortable, unlike Ceryse and Alys who wore mostly red Tyanna opted to wear colors of her choosing. Mainly purple which complemented her long black hair. “Do you know what’s happened?.” She snickered

“No…I do not” the princess said walking closer. Tyanna placed another grape in her mouth before her smirk turned into a bitter stare. “You will find out, soon enough” she said leaving the edge.

“You won’t tell me now?” The princess insisted. Tyanna rolled her eyes and rested her hands against the stone edge looking down at the large gardens “No, I will not” she said cooly. “Allow me to speak some wisdom into your insipid mind” said said not bothering to cloak her taunting “You are not special, you may be his niece and enjoy his gifts, you may hide yourself beneath Visenya’s skirt but the longer you womb remains empty, the faster you will become like us” she drolled the princess just enough to scare her.

“I will not.”

“You will”

“There are plenty that look like you in Lys, it won’t be much struggle for the king” Tyanna left her silky dress dancing with the wind as her footsteps became more distant. Deep down the princess was aware of her duty, she felt her face grow hot from embarrassment, Maegor had only consummated the marriage three times since her arrival, she knew very little on how to finish her husband and even less on how take control.

The next morning as one her hand maidens placed her earrings there a knock on the door, the king had gifted her many lavish gifts that perfectly matched her gowns. It was very clear most of them were intended to match her husband’s attire. Still the gowns were too lavish to go unnoticed.

“Apologies for disturbing , your grace” one of the hand maidens that belonged to Tyanna said bowing her head “The queen Alys has requested for you to break your fast along with the two other queens.”

“I have-“ the princess stopped herself and nodded “Very well.” With Visenya gone she need be careful of her words, most which found their way to either Queen Alys or Tyanna.

She walked around finding Queen Ceryse along her way. Who gave her a ghost smile before approaching her “Dreadful is not?”Ceryse weakly joked “I broke my fast long ago, now I’m to indulge myself into whatever Alys Horroway pleases” Ceryse scoffed.

“So have I” the princess replied playing with her rings. “You looked radiant at your wedding day, I could not help but admire” Ceryse smiled. The princess felt relieved that Ceryse complemented her wedding day, it made the guilt of marrying her husband less worse.

“You’ve grown since I saw you last, I expected you to still be a child.” The princess chuckled nervously matching her pace with Ceryse “As most of court does… I find there are few familiar faces left at court, most left after we did”

Ceryse stopped scanning the young girl, she felt slight remorse and gently took her arm “You have me, sweet girl.”

Under a large shade of trees and palms sat Tyanna and Alys talking over shared tarts and fruits, honey and breads, baecon and wine. “I was hoping you would join us” Alys said cheerfully “come,there are news I wish to celebrate.”

“Such news required our immediate attention?” Ceryse asked unamused as she took a seat next to the young girl.

“There is no rush, Lady Ceryse” Said Tyanna lazily “Best we share the news here before they spread.” The four queen’s sat together their conversations split between Alys and Tyanna and Ceryse and y/n. The young girl spread jam on her bread as Tyanna poured her fourth cup of wine. Alys smiled at girl leaning back as if she carried a large burden “You are a beauty aren’t you?” She laughed. “Gods I pray my children bare the Targaryen looks.”

“Don’t we all” Said Ceryse rubbing her temple. Tyanna giggled against her glass and covered her mouth before speaking “How long have you been praying Lady Ceryse? Ten? Twenty years now?.”

“Well my praying has concluded, the mother above has been kind to me” Alys grinned placing her hand above her stomach. The princess who was about to take a bite of her bread froze and felt Ceryse tense beneath the table. “What?”

“The king wished for me to remained abed but, I could not help myself, I carry the future prince of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne,it had to be shared, my son is the future of the realm”She said proudly.

“How do you know?” Tyanna said clearing her throat “How do you know it will have a cock?”

Alys shrugged envisioning her future a smile plastered on her face as she kept rubbing her belly “A mother knows, and I know it”

Skeptical Ceryse adjusted herself on her seat “Are you certain, has Grand measter Desmond even…confirmed your delusions?”

“I would not lie to the king” Alys shot back quickly”I am certain that my delusions - as you so call them are true.”

The young queen had said nothing yet, if Alys was in fact with child then she had failed to do her duty as a wife , she had failed Visenya and her family. Mayhaps the gods had given her a sign to let go of her fears and ensure the king’s favor remained on her.

None of them said a word for a while Tyanna and Ceryse were staring into distance, Alys paid no mind and held her hand on her stomach lost in thoughts, the child was just a seed in her womb and yet the princess could tell Alys had an immense love for it. “The king has also insisted you three serve me during my pregnancy “ Alys informed them. Ceryse maintained herself whilst Tyanna let out a harsh laugh. “Is it the king’s commands?” The princess spoke out to which both Tyanna and Ceryse turned to Alys.

Aly’s eyebrows furrowed “Yes, I am to remain abed and you three are to serve me, along with the midwife, two septa’s and my sisters.”

Ceryse sighed “I have no desire to clean your chamber pot Lady Alys When your…child- begins to grow call on me. I shall come, in the meantime…don’t” without another word the oldest and most graceful of the queen’s left with her head up without feeding into the mockery.

Tyanna the only one who seemed to enjoy the tension leaned back grinning “She amazes me you know? You would think the old woman would already have given up on Maegor.” She turned to the princess who was still watching Ceryse until she was no longer visible.”Mayhaps one day you too will get this privilege, bear the king’s children ” She told the young girl who ignored her. “Congratulations Lady Alys What a blessing this is for you and his grace.” Alys only nodded and allowed the girl to leave both her and Tyanna.

—————————————————————————

Corwyn stood quiet and solemn outside of Alyssa’s bed chambers, it had taken him all the strength to deliver the letter to her. Her daughter had been married to Maegor at Oldtown. He could hear her silent cries against her hands. Corwyn had been left in charge of Driftmark while his father took his seat in the small council, unlike his father he made the stay of his aunt and cousins more pleasant. He had send his cousins to tour the ships at the harbor to prevent them from seeing their mother in her current state. It was what the princess would’ve done. He had cried, his eyes still stung and his nose burned. He would mourn her in silence and accept that she had been married. His last hope rested on Aegon, he had chosen the fasted raven and rider in the night to deliver a letter to Casterly Rock. For he knew her brother would not abandon his sister.

Alyssa covered her face with her cold hands, small sobs escaping her lips. She had made a mistake, she should’ve taken her children across the narrow sea, instead she put her faith in the hands of her brother. He has sold off her daughter to Maegor and Visenya. Her heart ached as pictured of her daughter leaving her arms, she watched and did nothing as she condemned her daughter. Her poor sweet child surrendered by foes and a servant to Maegor.

Rhaena and Aegon sat alone in their quarters reading the letter Ser Corwyn had send.They had come a long way and despite their few allies the urge to act now was more tempting as they read the letter. . “He has taken our birthright and our sister.” Aegon snapped crumbling the parchment into his fist.

“Calm down Aegon, we cannot act so sudden when her life is in the hands of Maegor.” Rhaena insisted crossing her arms as she watched Aegon slump into a chair in front of her. She could tell he was irritated and anxious to leave their quarters just as she was. Lord Lyman had extended their stay, having fostered the Princess Y/n after her attack on Lord Ambrose, Aegon and Rhaena knew he was loyal to their cause. Aegon groaned resting his head against the table, he muttered and mumbled and protested again “We were there Rhaena, while he was off in Old Town taking her to wife, had we stayed longer mayhaps we could’ve rescued her, with Skyfyre on our side, our uncle would not not dare to attack, even atop of Belarion.”

Rhaena hummed, she was not one to feel emotions or sadness but that did not apply to her younger sister. She had cried in private yes, but she would not crumble now. Rhaena had placed Skyfyre in her sister’s cradle and watched as she rode her for the first time, she hated the thought of her baby sister flying to her death. “Y/n is four and ten, Skyfyre half the size of quicksilver, we need armies not dragons.”

Aegon looked back at the sleeping twins in their cradles, the room at Casterly Rock was large to host the four of them, grand and luxurious but was luxury when they could not speak of their plans on the open.At least not with lord Lyman Lannister spying on them.“She’s under Visenya’s ward I doubt she knows we were in Kingslanding.” He mumbled looking down at his hands.

“It was better to have gone without her knowledge, her absence would’ve been noticed faster than our presence.” It was the first time Rhaena was glad her sister had not mettled herself into trouble.

Aegon rose from his seat staring down at his daughters “I wonder if it was our destiny…to reclaim the throne. I shoulve you listen. Left across the Narrow Sea with our children”. He felt Rhaena’s hand on top of his.

“Our mother has placed trust and hope in us, and our sister is smarter than we led ourselves to believe. She would be our ears and eyes.”

————————————————————————-

The princess looked at her perfume Vials and bottles. Smelling each of them before deciding on a the same one she wore on her wedding. Roses and honey, mixed the cherry’s and figs. Her hand trembled as she held up into the light of the torches, it was the hour of the bat and Maegor had not yet returned to his chambers. The nobles began getting themselves ready for bed, Queen Ceryse was most likely in her chambers and she had noticed Tyanna and Aly’s always spend a few hours in each other’s company.

She had lied to her handmaidens and retired to bed earlier than she normally did. With one last look at the perfume she slowly poked her out scanning the hall for any passing servant or guard. Creeping down carefully she found her way to Maegor’s chambers. She was cautious as she knocked waiting for an answer, but only silence greeted her. Satisfied she ignored her nerves and entered his room, the bed still untouched she took out perfume. A whore’s trick -she thought as she began to carefully dab the liquid against his sheets. She knew he enjoyed the perfume on their wedding day. Sooner or later he would call for her. If not she was doomed to offer herself.

Once the hour of the ghost had arrived and she had not been summoned to him. She left her room to wonder the halls searching something that would make him summon her. She was inexperienced but riding a dragon seemed no different than riding a man. If she were to ask any of the queen’s they would lie to her face, diminish her and taunt her with the fact they knew how to please the king.

As her hand reached for her door a large figure covered her shadow . “The hour is late, what might you be doing outside of your chambers?” His Rough voice spoke out from the darkness.

“I could not find sleep, your grace. I had gone for a walk”. Her words only being partially true. She faced him and he was half dress, parts of his armor still on him. He guided her back to his chambers saying nothing until the door of his room closed. There were a few candles lit and pieces of clothes scattered around, he had in the midst of changing. His bed sheets were slightly scrambled meaning he had smelled her. He had gone to look for her.

Her stood over him as he sat at the edge of the bed, taking off his half cape and setting it aside. As she undressed him, his hands began to feel her body, sliding themselves inside her dress her allowed himself to feel her body longer. Until both of them began to slowly undress. He stoop up his large chest against her bare breast, he cupped of them bringing it to his mouth. His mouth carefully biting it, the feeling made her lower abdomen ache. The good kind of pain that corrupted her into wanting more. His lips savored her body, his nose in healing her scent. Her hands did the same, feeling his back and scars. He picked her up with ease and laid her on the bed. His fingers soaked between her legs, she allowed small whispers and for Maegor to have control before she swiftly moved on top of him. The move had been unexpected but he allowed it,he admired the way her eyes shut tightly full of pleasure as she adjusted his hard cock beneath her. There was no tightness around her cunt, allowing him to enter her smoothly. He held her hips in place as she moved smoothly, her hands holding his chest as she enjoyed herself. He sat up holding the back of hair, breathing heavily he listened to the sound of slapping skin and moisture. Each thrust louder than the last as she moved up and down. He began to let himself go deep inside her and his seed began to fill her. But this would not be the last round of the night. His grace Maegor the cruel had been tamed, and he did not wish for it to end. Not now, not never.

—————————————————————————

Although Ceryse had kept her word and assisted Alys during her pregnancy she never stayed too long. The princess found it dull, sitting around Alys whilst she was tended by the maids and her family. Her bump was starting to show and she not allowed to leave her bed and Grand Maester Desmond visited to her every day. At times the princess felt jealous of the proximity Alys shared with her sisters. They laughed and chatted, shared stories of their childhood and picked names for the future heir. The princess missed her sister, dearly perhaps even more than she missed her mother.

She snuck away for a moment with the excuse she was to fetch more tea for Alys. In truth it was a weak excuse and everyone knew it. She was about to push the door open before catching on to conversation between Alys and Tyanna. It was muffled and hushed whispering. She leaned closer and heard the irritated voice of Tyanna.

“You swore to me and now you carry his child. All lies told, all oaths broken.”

“I did no such thing!” Alys voice hissed “My vows to Maegor are stronger than any simple promise” she snapped “You know this.”

“ I swore the same vows” Tyanna snapped this time louder than she had intended. “But I will not wake with him, you may lie as you wish. But we both know you hide your true intentions. We both know what we are.”

“I know what I am, I am the queen and the mother your future king. You would do wise to remember.” Aly snapped back this time more commanding.

Tyanna let out a bitter laugh full of mockery and anger. “Good fortune to you, your grace.”

She heard steps coming closer to door and without thinking twice she ran behind a corner, slightly spilling some of the tea. The hot tea splashed onto her skin burning her, but that did not mattered to her as she tried to process the conversation. It was not her first encounter when it came to eaves dropping, her older sister had shared a similar conversation with her own companions. Although she never asked the princess knew her sister’s true nature. She watched Tyanna leave Alys’s apartments making her way to what could only guess were Maegor’s bed chambers.

She had to spend more time around Alys than she had intended. Neither Ceryse or Tyanna stayed longer and the Lady Hanna and Lady Jayne often retired sooner. Yet the hour was late and Princess fought sleep as she watched one of the maids add more pillows into Alys’s bed. “Where is Ceryse?.” Alys asked the girl.

“She was feeling unwell, your grace.” The girl lied not wanting Alys to question further. In truth Ceryse had spend the entire day in the newly rebuilt Sept and gone directly to her chambers to avoid Alys.

“What of Tyanna?” Alys asked again as she laid back onto the feather filled pillows. This time the princess did not lie “With his grace the king.” In was not rare for the princess to be away from Maegor after she succeeded in pleasing him. But there were current circumstances which Maegor did not need her but did need Tyanna. She could see the coldness in Alys and could tell she felt irritated when y/n was with her. But she never complained.

It had been early on the morrow when Visenya arrived back to King’s Landing. The princess had lost track of how long she had been gone, she would’ve left bed it weren’t for the fact that she slept in Maegor’s bed. Even though she was fully dressed and nothing had occurred she still felt embarrassed of being found in the situation. She gazed at her husband who slept peacefully and slowly rose from bed. Wrapping her velvet robe around herself she walked around the large room. Blackfyre lay on the desk, the valerian steal shinning with the sun light casting a white light around the room. Her fingers itched to hold it, she had never held a sword, dagger or any sharp weapon but the sword was too tempting not to touch.

“Valerian steal cuts clean. A sharp move and you’ll drown in your blood.” Maegor’s yawned as he sat the foot of the bed. “Cat spawn was meant to kill but it my father insisted the king must have it with him.” He walked closer and took Catspawn closer to her. She took it feeling the grip in her hands, it was made perfectly and beautifully. “Will you give me to your son?” She asked placing the dagger down. She felt pathetic asking the question but he just smiled. “My son will have to worthy, like I was.”

She looked at the hilt of Blackfyre and contemplated on staying quiet but the words spilled out her mouth with no hesitation. “What if he’s weak” She asked

Maegor did not hesitate to reply, he was prepared to answer any questioned fired his way. It was how things were done. “Then my second son will hold the crown.”

She thought about Tyanna said, if Alys gave birth to a girl Maegor would never agree to name her his heir. “What if it’s not a boy?”

Maegor stood behind her, his hands caressing her back whilst he kissed her shoulder. “Boy? Girl? What good is a cock when it comes to ruling a kingdom. The lords of the realm think they hold themselves important to determine who should rule, their opinions won’t matter. The less competent a man is the less he deserves to rule.”

She thought of that conversation while watching Alys cry as she turned away maid after maid. Nothing was to her liking, she cried and yelled, tossed things and insisted on leaving her bedchambers. The princess knew that Alys was infact unwell and that her moods had changed, but there a few things that princess found odd.One being Alys commanding a dragon egg to be brought to her. Which was denied by the king himself. “Come sweet girl” Ceryse said taking her arm and leading her out of her room. The princess could still hear the arguing and yelling.

“She thinks it my fault, that I won’t give her a dragon egg” y/n mumbled looking back as Ceryse guided her away. She was well aware that although she was at Alys’s side most of the time, the Horroway queen never once felt responsible for accepting her. Even after spending nearly two months under the same roof, if it were up to Alys, she would’ve already been sent to Dragonstone. “It’s not your fault, Visenya denied her a dragon egg and Skyfyre is too young to even lay eggs. You must learn to ignore her ” she gave the girl a tender hug that almost made her believe she could.

The entire Horroway Household had taken over the castle and everywhere she went their eyes would follow her. Not only the Horroway but her own servants. She had no companions in the keep and even though Ceryse was kind. The last two months have been spend in solitude. “Have you spoke to Visenya?” She asked. The princess shook her head, “She was gone for two months, I was told she would like to meet during supper.”

“You mean well, though if I were you, I would keep my visits to Alys short.” Ceryse was the only one who seemed to make an effort, but even a fool could tell it was all a facade. “She has been told of your visits to the king.” Ceryse let go of her arm and once they were far away from the eyes she spoke honestly and carefully. “The king will soon have an heir, beg to leave for dragon and with Visenya at your side you will live pleasantly and without the burdens. “

“The king would not allow it” she whispered looking at her hands in shame. The inside of her palms red and itchy. Perhaps she had done her duty too well, perhaps she should denied him instead. If it felt good why did she feel so much shame?. Ceryse rubbed her back the same way Alyssa once did “You might find the grand Sept comforting. I will be there if you need me.”

During supper she poked at her goose Infront of her, its grease slipping out bathing the vegetables drowning them in its juice. She was half listing to Visenya that she failed to realized she had stopped talking. “Has Lucas Horroway given you the respect you deserve?” Visenya asked eyeing her closely. The princess nodded “He’s been decent” and he had been. At least to her face, she did know what whispers filled the Red Keep. “Your position will be challenged.” Visenya reminded her. “Alys and Tyanna will not rest they will pour their honey in Maegor’s ear.”

The princess sighed defeated in the constant reminder of her duty. “What would you have me do?”

“You dream do you not?” Asked Visenya.

The princess nodded puzzled at the question “Aegon was a dreamer, Maegor never cared to hear but….you might find it helpful to share your visions with him. “

The princess shook her head “I don’t dream anymore, I haven’t since…. my father died.”there was ringing in her ear and a sinking pit in her stomach as she realized she had stopped dreaming once her father died. He loved to hear her, he would talk to her and they had sat by the fire recalling her dreams. She wondered if he knew what she was doing was for him. For her brothers and sisters to be safe. He would’ve done the same thing if it weren’t for Faith of the seven. They had killed her father, with words and attacks they had crushed the efforts of his reign. Forever her father would be seen as weak.

“It was tragedy that I tried to prevent. It was not sickness that took your father. It was a broken heart”. The princess cleaned off her cheeks and wished she had never spoken of her father. “Listen to me, it was the love I had for my sister that compelled me to help your father, that love is the same love you carry for Rhaena…I will tell you here so you are spared the humiliation. Aegon has gathered an army and will soon but forward his claim” Visenya told her. The tears dried up once she heard those words “What?” She said getting up from her chair. She knew Aegon would reclaim the throne yet the farce she had created in the efforts to distract Maegor was faltering. “The Riverlands and the westernlands have rallied behind him, you must hold your position. In the eyes of Maegor you are much as traitor as your brother…You are your family’s last hope”

—————————————————————————

It had been half a year since her arrival, when her brother and sister put forward their claim for the iron throne everything had changed for her. She was not allowed to leave her chambers or see the king. They whispered about her in the corridors and Lucas Horroway made sure she knew. She had been questioned day and night, watched and ignored. She had been caught in the cross fire between the wives and even court. She was no longer allowed to leave ride Skyfyre let alone leave the Red Keep.

It had been a cold day, the chill in the air even felt in her bones.She had been summoned by Lucas Horroway and the rest of the small council.She had expected for the throne room to be empty unfortunately for her every single noble was gathered in the room whispering and glancing at her every so often. Daemon approached her along with two members of his household. He noticed her flushed cheeks and puffy eyes hidden beneath a lavish gowns and jewels. “Your grace” he said bowing his head slightly. “Your brother may survive Maegor” he hushed grabbing her arm “The Velaryon navy will stand ready if needed”

The princess glared at Daemon and pulled her arm away “No need for empty promises uncle, I am aware of your undying fidelity to the king”

The princess stood alone away from the nobles as they all waited for the return of the king. She looked for any signs that might change the faith of her brother. She had done her duty, pleased Maegor and ensured her family was safe. Her mother had named him king, her brother had named her husband a tyrant. Her efforts had gone unnoticed by everyone. She had soothed his thirst for blood lust. For a moment she truly believe she could distract Maegor.

“You ought to have agreed to Ceryse’s advise”Tyanna hummed “Mayhaps then your mother would have saved you” Tyanna said looking around the packed room spotting Ceryse and her ladies in waiting. “I am loyal to my husband” the princess said warily. Tyanna smiled laughing silently as she always did “sure you are, until it’s time for you hatch a plan against the king. The sister of a traitor never forgets her roots.” She leaned closer making sure no one else could hear them “the king will either have your head or send you away, pray for your life. Ceryse won’t and neither will I.”

Most of the nobles had gone abed by the time the first Raven arrived. Lucas Horroway did not read it out loud but his eyes met her. He folded the letter and whispered to the rest of the lords. It was a familiar feeling, she had felt with her father. She clutched her stomach and made her way out of the throne room, stumbling as she took off her shoes. Her feet could not go faster even as she began to sprint down the corridor. Aegon was gone . His body now beneath the gods eye along with his dragon. Sinking to the bottom of lake for the fishes. She ran faster until she reached her bed chambers. One leap it would take. One leap out of her window and she would die before Maegor got to her first. She buried her hands in her hair tugging at her scalp, she sobbed quietly biting her tongue. She had learned to cry in silent afraid to be seen. In the distance a cry of a dragon was heard, she stumbled to the window waiting to see Skyfyre. But as the dragon dove closer it’s pale blue scales reflecting against the moon she realized it was her sister and her dragon. The archers in the wall and the guards hurried along the wall to prepare for the attack. Dreamfyre dodged arrows and fire, as she princess leaned closer against the window she noticed her sister’s determination and her two young daughters tightly strapped to her. She looked back at her room she heard the sound of swords being drawn and armor of guards clanking on their way to see her. She was ready to leave the castle with Rhaena but as she ready to jump off she noticed Dreamfyre swoop around and ride up the clouds blending with the night sky. She stood there in shock and suddenly realized how close she had been from jumping out, she held to the stone casting tightly as she looked down the high end beneath her. Mayhaps she had hallucinated the moment her sister had not come. The guards on the walls had stopped shouting and they all looked up at the clouds waiting for something to happen. But nothing happened and the door of her chambers flung open with a long bang making her lose her balance and stumble backwards. The guards stormed in without permission lifting her up the floor roughly. “I should lock you in the dungeons myself” Lucas Spat pulling her away forcefully. His nails dug into her forearm his eyes were filled with disgusts as he watched her frighten face. “The queen Alys will allow you to mourn your uncrowned brother, you will do best to remember her mercy when you declare to the king that you wish leave for Dragon stone.” He shoved her away causing her to hit her waist against the table. She caught sight of the guards in the room, all none where of House Targaryen, she understood what ever harm was done to her it would be by order of Lucas Horroway. No one would believe her if she said other wise. She glanced at him through her wet lashes and nodded and did not move until every last person was gone.

The bruise on her waist had began to turn yellow by the time Maegor led his army through the gates of King’s Landing. What ever punishment her had laid out for her was going to be severe. She had not slept nor eaten and did not leave her chambers. Her shook her head when her handmaiden reached for the some ruby earrings or any jewelry that bring attention to her. Mayhaps if became simple the king would ignore her. She walked down the corridors her nose burning and her eyes tired. As she turned the corner she caught a glimpse of herself dressed in walking by she froze and looked back at a noble woman heading the opposite direction. “Do you wish to continue, your grace?” Her hand maiden asked. The princess didn’t say anything but continued walking until she reached the throne room. There he stood his helment on his legs waiting for her. A boy stood by the throne anxiously looking at the ground, when the princess walked closer she saw her younger brother Viserys. She covered her gasp and stopped herself from rushing to hug him “As your king it is my duty to crush any rebellions. Against the lords, against the faith and even against my own family.” He spoke loudly. “My nephew has tested the limits of my mercy and my niece believed herself brave enough to try and attack the Red keep. “ His face was still covered in ash and blood and his armor was chipped and dirty. “Both of were defeated in their attempt to bravery my nephew lies beneath the gods eye and my niece has gone into hiding. I will not waste my breath on that matter, I will grant any man, dog or child forty thousand golden dragons to who ever brings me her to me. “

Lucas Horroway was smiling looking up at Maegor waiting for him to continue. But Maegor rose from the throne and made his way out ignoring his father by law who trailed after him. Viserys followed behind the kings guard until he was yanked into a hug that startled him. “Viserys!” His sister said wrapping her arm’s around him tightly. Viserys was confused but eventually realized who had pulled her away, he buried his face on her shoulder and cried softly. “He’s gone y/n” he spoke catching his breath “Aegon is gone, and so is Rhaena.”. The princess hushed him and held him closer “our mother? Jaehaerys and Alyssane?” Her stomach sank thinking of any possible harm being done the babes. Viserys wiped his nose and clearly his throat before speaking again “To dragon stone, under Visenya’s watch. He chose for me be his cup bearer , I’m to squire for him from now on.” Relieved that Visenya kept her words the princess pull away from her brother and held his hands “I will be here to protect you from the Horroways, listen to what he says and if you hear anything that you ought not to , keep it hidden. Trust no one Viserys” She held his cheek and kissed his forehead “I will call on you soon for now…be safe” Viserys nodded and quickly made his way back to the king’s party.

Maegor had really enjoyed her that night, two weeks after her brother’s death and she had returned to his bed. She laid next to him as he slept quietly, his large chest breathing calmly unaware of any possible dangers. The princess snuck her hand beneath her pillow reaching for a cold kitchen knife. She held close to her chest and peered over to Maegor was still asleep. She shuffled her self closer to him and held the knife with both hands to sooth her trembling. She could stab his throat and watch him bleed out, she would take Viserys and together they would flee. She held the knife over him and closed her eyes letting the salty tears fall. She shoved her blade deep into his chest feeling the warm blood spatter in her face. Maegor gasped trying to fight her but she stabbed his chest again and again until they were both bathing in a pool of blood. He laid there his eyes still opened looking right at her frozen in shock. She pulled back laying agains the bed frame she held the knife close to her feeling the adrenaline rush through her body. She had done it. She had killed her husband.

Shut her eyes tightly feeling the soaked sheets dry off. The fire still crackled and the knife still remained under her pillow. She wiped her tears and felt his side of bed the move “Do you ever sleep girl?” His yawned sitting up next to her. She shook her head and looked back at her husband perfectly alive. Not a single blood drop on him, even her hallucinations she could not kill him. She was not brave enough to break free from him. She wasn’t as determined as her sister nor as brave as Aegon. Rhaena was able to get away and flew across the narrow sea. Visenya had kept her promise and for once the princess felt the control she needed. Her family was safe, her mother need’t to raise against Maegor and her sister could live freely. She had given up her freedom, willingly she laid with Maegor. Willingly she began to love him. “You killed Aegon” she sniffed

“I did”

He felt to remorse and never would. Maegor scooted closer and moved a silver strand out her face. He scanned her face her eyes, her lips and her cheeks. Red as cherries and soft as melodies. How beautiful she looked when drowned herself in tears. “Why is that your family has found the sudden strength to defy me?” He asked lowly.

She cleaned her tears and faced him. Deep purple eyes staring into her soul speaking words she could not understand. “I don’t know” she whispered. “Mourn your brother, mourn his loss. You are queen now. ” He pressed his lips against her damp cheek and made himself comfortable again.

—————————————————————————

The measter had predicted a healthy long summer. Too healthy and hot for the princess who sat in the gardens alone with her brother. Not alone since a few guards stood close. She poured herself more water as Viserys enjoyed a persimmon jellied bread. He was healthy and safe though it was the first the two of them were able to sit together since his arrival. She had convinced her husband for the opportunity which he had given her not before the king’s Raven placed eyes and ears around her. She looked around once last time before speaking to her brother “Are you well?” She cleared her throat unsure on what she could say.

“Am I well?” Viserys snickered cleaning his hands off. “That afraid you are of Tyanna of the Tower” he smirked looking back at some guards. “I’m not afraid.” his sister said defensively “I’m cautious.”

He teasingly rolled his eyes before reaching for another piece of bread. “Well, I am well. Believe me whatever these guards tell her she will twist to perfection if needed.”

“She does that” she agreed taking a sip of the icy water.

“She’s always perched on his shoulder during the small council meetings. Whispering about what she hears.” Viserys said “she belittles those who disagree with her. She also drains the bloody flagon dry.” Viserys did not care to hush his voice and continued eating with no care. He had always been clever and knew how to hit certain nerves, specially when he knew his words would be repeated.

“ Alys Horroway?” He asked leaning back against his chair. “What about her?” His sister replied.

“What about her? She’s taken over the castle, her and her family. “ he said his eyes furrowing at the thought of another House taking over his.“Her father is desperate now more than ever that his daughter is carrying the king’s child “

The princess shrugged “I don’t know if she likes me” she confessed “Sometimes I think she might hate me,she ignores me then she doesn’t” she scoffed “She treats like some naive serving girl then she treats me like some harlot”

“She might be jealous “ Viserys teased “You do look different, have you done something to your face?” He asked. The princess quickly touched her face searching for something “What? What is it” her eyes widen the same way Viserys grin widen. Once she realized what he was doing she threw a hard piece of bread at him.

“Fuck off”

Together they sat chatting away forgetting the guards were ever there. Switching from topics to tales they both enjoyed the rest of the evening before saying their goodbyes. The princess hugged her brother and fix a button on his red velvet doublet “I hear you’re a fancy with the ladies of the court” she teased.

Viserys rolled his eyes playfully but could not hide “Is you so much insist that I am.” Together they made their way out of the gardens and fared each other well. The princess made her way to her chambers and as she pushed the door opened she found Tyanna lounging about on her settee. “There you are” she smiled. The princess grimaced and forced a smile on her as Tyanna a spot next to her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come talk” she said relaxing back “You and your brother had much to say about me during your meet.I found it reasonable to speak so I won’t twist my words” Tyanna moved her long raven hair away from her face, she always kept it down and wore a crown adorned with gold jewelry or any precious stone. She was a shadow in the halls of the Red keep, she lingered around sucking the live of those who opposed her. “But I see that I’ve come in a rather awkward time” she lifted up the silk gown was to wear for the king.

“Get out of my room-“ she began

“How about” Tyanna said getting up “I see the king for you?”

The princess snatched dress from her hand ripping off its decorative jewelry in the process. “Get out!” she hissed Tyanna who got want she wanted and. The raven snatched her forearm closer digging her nails into her skin. “There you are” she whispered. She let go off her and left the room bumping against her shoulder in the process. The smell of vine and roses still lingered after the Tyanna left.

—————————————————————————

Her body shivered as the cold morning air touched her skin. Beneath her was only the feathered mattress. It was a blur as she began to open her eyes. She bare and vulnerable not single item of clothing remained on her body. She fully awaken and looked around for her camise only to find the floor empty and the mattress bare. She looked around but found nothing. She stood in husband’s chambers alone. The bed had been stripped down from its sheets expect for a singular thin sheet covered with the act she and Maegor had performed the night before. But he was long gone, having left early in the morning to join the hunt before the labors of queen Alys began. The door slowly opened one of the serving girls assigned to Alys during her pregnancy entered looking down at the floor. She bowed gently. “Princess- the queen has request for you join the rest of court in the throne room…..immediately after waking up” the quivering eyes off her serving girl landed on an embroidered blanket with the sigil of house Horroway.

The princess swallowed and eyed the serving girl who awkwardly departed. She had two choices, each of them shameful in their own ways. Alys had chosen the moment when most of the nobles would be hurrying around the castle anticipating for the birth of the future heir.

She had endured abused for months, rumors and accusations. She was belittled by the Horroway sisters. Humiliated by the hand of the king. Threatened by the kings Raven. She learned to end her reliance on Ceryse, having been ignored after her constant visits to king. But this moment she was about to live would be engraved in mind.

Ceryse was the first to see her, soon the rest of the court witness her departing from the kings chambers tightening the stained sheet around herself. Their eyes gawked at her just as they had done during her wedding day. No one said a word but cleared her path as she moved down the corridors to the throne room. The walk seemed to never end stretching endlessly until she finally reached the doors of the throne room. Only to find the entire throne room occupied waiting for the king to return from his hunt. She held her face up high ignoring the tears falling down her face. She stood in the middle of the throne still tightening the sheet around when felt the cold breeze, she looked down at herself noticing how thin the blanket had been perfectly allowing anyone to see through it. By the time the labors began anyone who walked into the throne was able to sport her instantly. She endure the humiliation for hours until the birth of Alys had been completed and mumbles Alys failed childbirth began to fill the air. “King Maegor first of his name king of the Andals-“ the commander of the king’s guard spoke loudly as Maegor and his hunting party entered the throne room. He took off his blood stained gloves throwing them at Viserys ignoring Lucas Horroway who looked distraught. He paused in the middle of the room his eyes red with anger. He immediately spotted her by the pillars, soon the eyes his party did too. Her brother Viserys tried to speak but no words came out. Yet he left Maegor’s side pushing away the hand of Daemon who tried pulling him back. “What is the meaning of this?” He furiously waiting for a response.

“It appears your grace that princess y/n made a spectacle of herself “ Lucas Horroway interrupted. Ser Olyver one of the few knights that served Aenys took off his whitecloack and handed it to Viserys who wrapped around his sister. “what’s happened to you?” He whispered covering the areas that were see through. Her feet ached from standing for so long that all she wanted to do was crawl back to her chambers. “She wanted to see me” she whispered back. “Like this?” Viserys frowned.

Maegor walked closer his clothes stained with the blood of what ever animals he killed. “I will not ask again, y/n.”

Looking from Lucas Horroway back to him the princess had little to lose. But confessing to the abuse would only prove to Maegor that she was weak and unable to defend herself. “An act of ignorance , your grace” she spoke. Her face blank and bloodless. “My clothes were stolen by the Horroway maids, and I was summoned by the Alys in an attempt to display power. A simple mummers farce”

Maegor did not care to listen to the explanation given by Lucas and ordered Viserys to escort his sister back to her chamber’s. “You did not give her the satisfaction “ Viserys whispered. “Although that’s not any better but you kept your head about “

“Believe me, it was more shameful to keep my head about. I am only feeding to their whispers “

Ceryse walked past them only stopping for a moment to analyze her, “princess” she smiled bowing her head before walking away with her handmaidens.

“I thought she was the good one” Viserys said looking back.

“Good is an exaggeration, she defends me against their words. Not their actions”

Once they reached her chambers Visenya stood with her hands bloody. “Leave us” she said wiping her hands with a soaked cloth. Viserys looked at his sister not budging at Visenya’s command. “It’s okay” she whispered. When the door closed only and a silenced greeted her, she took a sit on one of chairs covering her chest with the white cloak. “I want you to hear it from me” Visenya said firmly.

“Alys has given birth to a monstrous beast, nine months abed surrounded by the best measters and midwives only to deliver an abomination” Vinseya did not hide her disappointment.

Sighing she sat across from y/n looking at the dirty sheet hidden beneath the white cloak. “You are princess and queen of Westeros , why do allow this to happen.” Y/n could not tell if the disappointment was still on Alys or if it had shifted to her. “What would you have me do” the princess whispered bitterly. “You have left to dragon stone when I needed-“

“You don’t need me. You need to open your eyes and defend yourself.” Vinseya snapped. “Your mother mourns her children but she is safe, You love my son yet you confuse love with duty. You have duties. You will have no allies if you hide under Maegor’s covers. “

The princess swallowed the knot on her throat and bit the inside of her bottom lip. “I won’t, I promise” she said meekly. Her mind drifted to Rhaena, where she was she must be happy. She was not stuck in maze each path leading to various consequences. Rhaena was older, wisers and stronger. Mayhaps if the princess not ten and four then might too have a choice.

“Dark times are approaching, you must act before is too late.”

—————————————————————————

Maegor had punished the measter and those present during the Alys’s pregnancy. The princess took it upon herself to greet the new anointed maester and befriend a few of the ladies at court. The moment she heard the chains shackling she looked up to see Maester Benifer, he was a tall slender old man with small eyes and a head full of grey. He was the old maester who served dragon stone and was chosen by Visenya’s herself. He bowed his head to her and gave a soft smile that reminded her of her father. “Your grace, you were no older than eleven since I saw you last.” She nodded and led him inside the castle her mind drifting yet again to her father, would he look the same as he did the night he closed his eyes. Even when words dracarys left her mouth and Skyfyre burned her father she still had hoped for him to rise from the flames.

“My mother?” She said brushing the thought away “The children?”

“Healthy, your grace. Although Dragon Stone is not by all means lively. The children grow and run happily.” He paused debating if he should continue speaking. “You may speak freely, grand maester. “ she reassured him.

“Your mother was ever so easer to know about your health. Mayhaps writing to her would ease her worries.” He suggested.

“I’m afraid my letters would not arrive intact, with eyes and ears around us. The king’s raven would know my words before they reach my mother’s ears.” She mumbled

“Ah I see” they walked in quietly down the long arched corridors the only sound being from the chains adorning this robes. She escorted him to the small council meeting where the large door remained closed guarded by two white cloaks. She could picture what plots they hatched inside the room. “Your grace-“ Maester Benifer said quietly. He looked at the white cloaks and walked closer lowering his head to her ear. “I speak for your mother when I say, I am glad you have survived these trails and tribulations and have not fallen into corruption.” The princess nodded and blankly spoke loud enough for anyone with ears could hear. “I am loyal to my house and my husband, my one true love”

The morning she awoken ready to call for a maid to take her blood stained sheets but she was left only to the soft sensation of her clean sheets. She laid back into her feather pillow and began to think of Maegor’s large hands wrapped around her waist as he held her down filling her up. The way he gently cleaned her afterwards. She enjoyed riding him and he enjoyed how she rode him.

She got ready with the help of her maids and hand maidens, one of her maids was a young girl about her age with long brown hair and soft brown eyes placed a velvet maroon box Infront of her. “A name day gift, from his grace” she explained. Inside the box lay a simple golden necklace with a red stone, which she recognized. He wore the red stones on his chest plate. Unlike the other jewels her husband had gifted her this was far the most simple and the most with more meaning. She loved the necklace and watched as the maid place it o around her. “Happy fifteen name day, your grace” she said politely. “Thank you” the princess grinned as she looked at her self in the reflection. Through the reflection the young maid noticed one of Ceryse Hightower’s hand maidens take the sheets from one of the maids. Without explanation the young maid rush from the princess side and snatched the sheets from the hand maiden

“Lock the door.” The princess heard the young maid say. A few maids were rushed out but before mysterious handmaiden could leave the maid snatched her arm. “You will tell her grace, you will do so now” she said firmly.

“Lay your hands off me!” the hand maiden protested pulling away.

“That is enough” called out firmly princess as she stood up “What is that you’re doing” she asked the young maid.

An older maid separated the quarrel and bowed her head so low the princess thought she would fall. “My deepest apologies, your grace” the elder maid insisted as she glared at the young maid. “She has just arrived with Grand Maester Benifer“

“I will not ask again” the princess cut her off.

The young maid looking around the room noticing everyone was staring at her specially the young queen. Reluctantly she let go off her arm but as she was about to speak again the princess ordered for the room to be left empty. Once everyone left the maid bowed her head “I’m sorry your grace, it was not my intention…but” she said her eyes meeting the princess.

“But?”

“I was ordered by the dowager queen to pay a close eye to queen Ceryse and her hand maidens…I was told she and her ladies in waiting tend to spread their maids around the castle” she explained picking up the sheets from the floor. “You have not bled your grace, the dowager queen has kept a close eye on your bleeding…and so has Queen Ceryse”. The maid showed her the cleaned sheets, the princess touched them and felt the clean spot she had ignored on the morrow. The thought of being with child was terrifying, Alys mourned her still born child, her mother nearly died when Vealla was born although her sister did not live she could still hear the agonizing screams of her mother. Her fifteenth name day had been blessed with something greater than a necklace.

“I never got your name” The princess told her new maid as they both walked the halls. “Kiara of Myr, your grace” she replied. “You’re from Essos?.” The princess asked intriguingly.

“I served many households before as a serving girl, maid, hand maiden” the maid replied. “I’ve been everywhere really, but Essos would forever be in my heart” she smiled fondly.

“How did you end up with grand maester Benifer?” The princess asked.

“I served a wealthy Captain from Myr for a few years before staying in White Harbor and served as a maid to House Manderly then House Royce, then I servered as the handmaiden to one of Lord Alester Florent’s daughters, until she chose to join the faith. I companied her Old Town, she gave ten gold dragons and wished me good fortune, Then I met Grand Maester Benifer who later offered me a maid position at dragon stone.”. The princess glanced at Kiara who was the same age as her. Kiara had been everywhere and seen everything. Usually girls her age don’t last long in the world but Kiara was different. “You have lived” the princess smiled.

“yes, I have” Kiara agreed.

They walked past Alys chambers where she had isolated herself after her still birth. No one had been allowed in and the court remained oblivious of the situation. Maegor was angry no more than the rest of the Horroway. But Visenya was happy. “Do you know something?” Kiara asked as she guided the princess away. The princess hesitated to respond. She questioned the loyalty Kiara had, sure she had proven her self worthy but was she just another pawn added to keep the princess company?.

“Just the rumors” the princes said quietly while looking back. “The Horroways feed themselves with Rumors” she added.

“Then you should give them a feast.” Kiara spoke no longer smiling.

The princess scoffed and shocked her head “I have enough rumors of my own, anything I know is already known by Tyanna. It would be old news for the court.”

“Your grace, you forget you are the queen. You needn’t to impress the court in your own home. You know many things, things that could harm Alys and her kin” Kiara said holding her hand.

The princess thought of the monster that had been born to Alys and the possible shame it would bring. Failing to give an heir was shameful enough but a monstrosity? For the first time the princess would do something for her on benefit. For the pleasure of fun.

After her meeting with the grand maester he had confirmed her she was indeed pregnant. A whole month she had been carrying Maegor child. It was unreal and to her nothing felt different. But it felt right to tell Visenya the news, this child would carry the Targaryen legacy just as Visenya wanted. “You should be at your name day feast” Visenya said looking over her shoulder as she closed a scroll. Her name day would be a feast with the court just as the princess wished. “I met with grand maester Benifer” the princess told her pondering to wether sit or stand. Vinseya hummed her bright silver hair was now lighter but she still kept the beautiful braids she wore in her youth. “Already, it’s been no longer than a week since his arrival.”

“I have not bled” the princess spoke timidly her hands playing with one another.

“Oh”

Vinseya got closer but stopped half away, questioning if the princess was telling truth. “Are you…certain?”

The princess nodded “He said a month give or take.” Her words had no lies and Visenya was pleased. She smiled and hugged her the way Alyssa hugged her. The princess slowly returned the hug this being the first act of touch Visenya had given her. “Well done, my girl” she heard Visenya say but she was unsure if it had been her mind playing tricks on her.

She danced at the feast, laughed and chatted with her brother. Visenya had also been content, although she not told Maegor the clear change in her attitude was noted. None of the Horroways attended but all the members of the court did. Viserys had been allowed to enjoyed himself as well. This time she did not seat by the king but with her brother. Maegor drank and kept his eye close to her, but she paid no mind. Her name day was her to celebrate and for some odd reason she did not cry, she did not brood but enjoyed the moment. She retired first after ordering Skyfyre be fed three boars and five sheep, and spend more time getting unready laughing with her maids and admiring the countless name day gifts she had received. Gushing over the perfumes and gowns she felt like a child opening the dolls and toys given to her.

She had slept for what felt like hours only to be awaken by Kiara and a member of the king’s guard. She barely had anytime to dress into her gown and stepped out with the jewelry undone and her hair lazily fixed. “What’s happening?” She asked the kings guard as he escorted her down the halls “Your grace, you have been summoned by the king, it is an urgent matter .”

Her stomach sank but Kiara held her arm as made her way to her throne room where the entire household of Horroway there, even the maids, steward and guards. Ceryse looked up slightly her hair was a mess and so was Alys whose nightrobe had been tugged and ripped. Alys had enough with the rumors planted by Ceryse and threaten to kill her not before the guards dragged them both to throne room where the king still drank and chatted with a few members of the court. While Lucas angrily pressed the king to take action against the whore of old town, the whore of Pentos and the whore of dragon stone, Viserys smacked the back of his head with a flagon as he reminded him of his own daughters rumors. Lucas ordered the guards to seize him and beat him. Fortunately Daemon stepped in and Maegor summoned the rest of wives Daemon Velaryon was also in attendance only adding to the crowd of people she did not wish to see. Maegor had a stoic face while Ceryse looked distraught, she was in her night robes along with most the people in the throne room. Viserys was standing next to Maegor his nose covered in blood. The princess let go of Kiara and rushed to his side “Viserys, show me, show me” she said holding his face carefully as he winced in pain.

“Who did this?”

“The guards did, tell her, why you thought it was right to attack the hand of the king” Maegor said looking down at him, not a single trace of emotion.

“He’s a savage!” Alys snapped as she was held back by Lady Hanna.

“He insulted the queen!” Viserys snapped

“Mind your tongue boy” Lucas said loudly.

“He’s harmed!” The princess snapped at Lucas Horroway.

“He insulted the true queen.”

“The rightful wife of queen Maegor stands before him!”’

“The Whore of Horroway”

“This is an act of treason.”

“You forget yourself Lucas ”

“Take her, TAKE HER!” Alys commanded the guards who did move at her order.

As the insulated were thrown Daemon and his guards took out their swords and soon the song of swords being drawn filled the throne room. “SILENCE” Maegor’s voiced roared booming loudly for the men to sheath their swords.

“This pathetic fighting between wives will end, it will end now.”Maegor snapped. Ser Olyver still held his sword along with the rest of the king’s guard. “Sheath your swords my lord’s, before blood Is spilled.”

“Princes Viserys should be sharply punished for his actions “ Alys spoke bitterly.

“He called my sister a whore!” Viserys yelled out.

There were a few murmurs and gasps but Viserys held to his sister pleading to be heard. “You have to believe me, he was angry when I brought up his daughter’s rumors.” Maegor turned to Viserys and the princess “What Rumor?”

. “That Alys Horroway blames my sister for the death of child.”

“Tell me boy, where did you hear those rumors” Maegor questioned angrily

“Prince Viserys-“ Tyanna began

“Quiet woman ��� Maegor cut her off.

Viserys held his face high “From the court.” He said his eyes angrily piercing through the Horroways .”They called my sister a whore, and accused her of poisoning Alys.”

A silence fell over the throne room all eyes falling on her. Tyanna was the only one who looked at Alys, this whole time she had been silent and not her usual self. She hadn’t added to the insults thrown around but had stayed quiet carefully analyzing the room.

“That is a vile accusation” The princess said defensively. But it was her word against the hand of the king and his family. Alys looked at her with disgust while Ceryse stayed silent looking at the floor. Tyanna whispered something into his ear but he stopped her before she could continue. “Tell the truth y/n” Maegor held back his anger. His eye met hers, big purple eyes that belonged to his brother. Terrified eyes of a fawn waiting to be killed. “I swear it, on the memory of my father” her voice sounded so close yet so distant. His throat felt dry as he noted how she guarded her brother. She was his blood, she was his brother’s daughter but Aenys had been weak but the girl was not.

“She tells truth, her grace speaks no lies” Visenya’s commanding voice spoke loudly. She held a small flask whilst grand maester Benifer trialed behind her his chains rattling as he walked. Kiara who had fetched Visenya hurried behind them as well. “As a matter fact grand maester Benifer had just informed me that the princess is with child. But I’m sure the Horroway kin already knew what. Why else would this empty flask lay so close to the princess’s tea. Or mayhaps it was planted? In effort to blame or kill the princess” she scanned the room her eyes landing of the three wives.

“Your still birth is not the fault of the queen but of your choices” Vinseya hissed. “Or do we forget the rumors the Whore of Horroway bathes herself in? Is this what you allow in your home?” She said turning to Maegor. “My dear son listen to your wife, she carries your heir now.” Maegor slowly turned to princess who kept her head high, although Viserys looked more perplexed he did not falter but stood close. Ceryse finally looked up sheer horror in her expression whilst Tyanna processed the words.

“It is done then” Maegor spoke to the rest of the court. “This interminable infighting will end. Let it be known, anyone whose tongue dares to spill rumors. Will have it removed”

“Thank you uncle” the princess soft voice called out.

Before she knew it Lucas Horroway marched towards her with sword in hand, anger flashed across his face. The move was quick before the princess could close her eyes, her face was covered in the real sensation of blood. The blade of Blackfyre barely scraped her tip of her nose in a swift movement no one saw coming. Maegor stepped back and watched as Lucas’s head rolled down into a puddle of blood. The Horroway sisters led out blood curdling screams and sobs. The princess felt her bare feet begin to soak in blood.

Alys pulled away from her sisters and knelt infront of her father rapidly trying to stick his head back together. She looked up the princess whose eyes were red from a few blood splatters, she launched herself at her crashing against the high table. She covered them both with blood as she struggled to pin her against the table. The princess held her as Alys found a knife near the left over food.

“Alys let her go!” Maegor commanded as her guards made a circle around the two queens.

“What more do you want?” Alys cried holding the knife. “My husband, my father, my son. You’ve taken them” she hissed tears falling rapidly. The princess’s eyes focused on the the sharp blade above her, she had never seen so much hatred in someone. Pure anger. “You will have to pay” The blade seemed close to her face.

“Was-“ the princess managed to say “my - abuse not payment enough “

Alys screamed sinking the knife down, the princess eyes widen as she laid on the table a pain growing on her cheek. The knife scrapped her cheek slightly. Had she not move her head then she would’ve lost her face. Alys was thrown back by Maegor who picked up the princess and ordered for her to be return to her chambers. Kiara guarded Viserys as the princess was rushed out, leaving bloody footprints as she and the rest of the court made their way to their chambers.

—————————————————————————

“You won’t scar, your grace” grand maester Benifer reassured her “I made sure of it” he cleaned the last of the blood just in time to watch the sun peak over the city. It’s soft glow casting a beautiful light in the room. Viserys slept on the sofa after he was treated the night before.

“That’s not what I’m afraid of” the princess mumbled. The door opened Kiara spoke out “Your grace, Ceryse Hightower wishes to speak with you. Alone” she said looking around.

The princess nodded and the grand maester left without protest only leaving Viserys who was fast asleep. Ceryse was still in her night robes with a few scratches on her face, her hair pulled and tangled. “Might I?” She asked taking a seat Infront of the princess.

“I am sorry, truly” Ceryse said grimly. “You are a child and…I was deep in my pride to realize I should’ve defend you against their actions” she had not spoke out when the princess was made to walk naked nor when she was accused of murder.

“There was nothing to gain” the princess said truthfully.

Ceryse stayed silent looking at the early morning before speaking again. “Alys has been taken to the dungeons. Men came forward last night and were tortured to tell truth. She won’t have trail. Her faith lies on Tyanna”

“As does mine” the princess said.

“Mine as well.”

“He will put them all to death, and will march to Harrenhal. But it’s not safe here” Ceryse eyes were red and tired. Her golden hair and green eyes still made her look beautiful even in her discomfort. “I would like to know….are we still friends?”

The princess looked at her sleeping brother whose face twitched slightly. She had to make allies and anything that would keep her siblings close. “We are” the princess whispered.

There was a distant cry almost a whisper from the walls of the Redkeep. It would be a horrible death.

It had been nine days of torture for Alys. Her body was cut in pieces and set on the spikes left to rod. The rest of Horroway’s were thrown in a hole to be buried like animals. Even the servants were punished for a crime they did not commit. Viserys had left with her husband to Harrenhal just as Ceryse had predicted. The princess agreed to spend the rest of her pregnancy at Dragon Stone with Visenya and Alyssa. It had been long since she saw her mother last.

After she watched the last of the Horroway Tapestries being taken down she made her way to the garden. The hot day had agreed with her, and the silks of her gown were thin and did not stick to her body. She sat on a chair in the gardens. Bathing in the sun the small pecks of sweat soaked her hair. She closed her eyes admiring the red and orange light the sun casted on her eye lids and began to drift away into peace. It was just her and her unborn child.

End of first flash back

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It had been a month ever since Rhaena landed in the king’s woods. She and her daughter were welcomed by a wheelhouse and their own chambers. King’s Landing was oddly happy and booming with people, traders and vendors sold more than enough to the small folk. Taverns and brothels were packed by visitors who had enough money to spend. The Redkeep stood tall with high towers and long walls guarded by guards. It was changed drastically since she last saw it. The court itself was a maze of its own, with members of great houses to leasers house. She had expected to meet with her sister but to her surprise she never did. Both twins were timid and it had been a struggle to ride Dreamfyre with Aerea who was terrified of Dragons.

Rhaena had left the comfort of Essos to willing return to Westeros. All for a sister who had ignored her if she did not exist. She had not expected a grand welcome by all means but it was strange not to see her sister welcome her. She wanted nothing more than to hug her and feel her closer after so long. Rhaena grew tired of waiting and found the most familiar face she could find. Ser Olyver had greeted her and welcomed her as any other noble would but once she asked about her sister he grew awkward and quiet. “Her grace is breaking her fast with her children, she won’t be able to hold an audience.”

It was all it took for Rhaena to search the entire castle for her sister until she found a gallery overlooking the gardens. Her sister happily cheated with her two children. Children Rhaena had not properly met.

The queen had always been watched by others since she arrived back at court. It was no different to feel someone’s gaze on her. She knew it belonged to her sister and she knew why. She had not ignored Rhaena because she was to marry her husband. She ignored her sister because she had always believed her to be clever and sharp minded. But that brave sister willingly flew back into the dragon’s jaw. The queen thought about the mistake of not writing back to her sister, then again she was her sister not her duty.

It had been years since Maegor took their son Baelon to fight at the marches. A month after they a raven flew back informing her that he had claimed a black dragon born to Skyfyre. It was not the battles that worried her, but the influence Maegor would have on him.

Every day she would break her fast with her children and would dine with them at the end of everyday. Rhaenor had stretched and become a boy of fourteen he was excellent with a sword just as he was with his mind. He was sharp and spirited and devoted to his future role as hand of the king. Lord Edwell advised him as promised and soon Rhaenor knew more of the realms politics than half of the court. There was kindness in him that he always expressed for the small folk. Just like his elder brother, Rhaenor claimed a mud-brown dragon also born from Skyfyre’s egg clutch.

Aella had flourished beautifully into a girl of thirteen. She was the spitting the image of her mother at her age, with the same purple eyes and silver hair. She was clever as she was gentle. Often trailing after gran Maester Benifer. It was rare to not see a smile on her face. She had bonded with the third dragon born to Skyfyre, a white silver dragon who was rather shy. She took after her mother when it came to her gowns, dressing richly she preferred to wear red and black over any other color.

The queen herself had grown very bitter towards most of the nobles. She never forgot or forgave a spite. After the death of her brothers and her son she never wore another color besides black. Still lavished, her gowns kept the same intricate embroidered patterns. The queen abandoned the colored gowns but her love for jewels remained. She had become more paranoid and resentful towards her family, she grew weary that her younger brother would raise his claim for the throne. The words she once spoke against ambition were useless as she was more ambitious than before.

After breaking her fast with her children the queen waited for her sister. Once they were completely gone Rhaena made her way down to the gardens. “I asked for an audience “ Rhaena called out. “you were no where to be found.”

“Why is it that you’re here?” The queen asked placing her cup down. Her sister was older, different. She could look at her without feeling an overwhelming feeling on her chest. But she would not reach for a hug, the days of girls were gone. She had been her sister, they had laughed and cried. Played and fought. They were the same blood but now they were strangers.

“I wrote you, everyday. I went through great lengths to write to you. In return I got nothing” Rhaena frown. “I return to see my sister playing the same game she slandered during our youth.”

The queen chuckled “Suddenly I am to blame? You were not stuck here like me, you were free. I had I’ve been found writing back to you, my head would’ve been on a spike.”

Rhaena shook her head and followed her sister as she tried to walk away from her. “Will we not speak about Viserys, How you lay with the man who ordered his murder. How you walk the halls without a care for his death.”

The queen turned around holding back the urge to fight with her sister. “You were not here Rhaena. You did not see what I saw. His death will be avenged-“

“When? When you stop loving the man who murdered our brothers-“

The queen’s hand move fast gripping Rhaena’s arm so tightly it caught women off guard. “You’ve said enough- “ Her eyes became glossy with anger and she slowly left go of Rhaena’s arm. “Go back to Volantis Rhaena. He will find who your lover is. Unlike me, there are people who will expose your truth.” Rhaena was still in shock at her sister’s slight aggression. The queen walked away never knowing that she was the only person Rhaena ever cried for, even when her husband and best friend died, she shed no tears than when she learned her fifteen year old sister was with child. Maegor’s child. She hated Maegor but if she had to marry a man to help her sister break away from her chains she would.

The queen slammed the door of room and yanked her necklace off. She sat at the end of the bed covering her face with her hands, anger bubbling inside her. She carried the blame for the death of brothers and son. She had lost Viserys days after she lost her child. She hated her sister for returning to the place she hated the most. She hated her mother for running away from Dragonstone. Had she not run she would’ve send a raven and summoned them to Kings landing, she would’ve protected her. She would’ve protected her younger siblings. The queen reached for an empty glass of wine on her nightstand, she never been a drinker. She hated the taste and had no love for wine. But these days it was the only thing that soothed her. She threw the empty glass shattering in the stone floor. She would not cry, no she would not. Not anymore.

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Flashback 2

Viserys gushed at his nieces coos, leaning closer her grinned as she wrinkled her when she sneezed. “She’s so small” Viserys laughed placing a wooden doll in her cradle. He moved quickly to help his sister sit on a chair “I’m glad I’m not a woman.” He teased.

“When you marry, spare your wife this pain.” The princess rolled her eyes. “Mother, please may I hold Rhaella.” Aegon said standing over his tip toes as he tried to reach for his sister. “No, no” Viserys said quickly picking up his nephew. “Go play with her your Brothers.” His said ignoring Aegon’s groans. He sat Aegon with Baelon who was trying to feed Rhaenor a toy. The three boys were close in age and were never apart.

Viserys had not been fond of the Idea of his sister giving Maegor a child. But once his sister returned from Dragon stone holding his nephew he became a loving uncle. He often denied the fact he had cried once he learned that his nephew had been named after his elder brother Aegon. Or that he snuck into his sister’s bed chambers to hold her children while she slept. Never once his sister had to wake up to calm her crying babes. Although Baelon rarely cried, he did not cry when he was born and had caused his mother anguish when she did not hear his wails. He was born blue in face having wrapped his umbilical cord around his neck, once the maester cut it off he reached for his mother’s hand.

Prince Viserys loved his nephews and niece, his death was sudden. He had spend days looking for those responsible for the murder of his nephew and just as he made his way to go comfort his sister he was stopped by Tyanna’s guard who without explanation dragged him to the dungeons. He never saw his sister again.

The princess had been consumed in grief thayt she failed to realize her brother was no where to be found. She had spend her days full of grief over the death of her son that once she learned about the death of her brother she collapsed. Viserys had been left to rot in the courtyard for days after this torture. The princess was left to wail in despair as she begged her brother to wake up. Maegor full of anger after the death of his son did not care for the princess wishes to burn her brother. Instead Grand Measter Benifer made a fire in the courtyard and the princess cremated his body alone. Days later she cremated her son at Dragonstone. Her mother had abandoned her and saved her last remaining children. The princess was left alone again. Only seventeen.

End of Flashback 2nd flash.

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The room was always cold in the mornings, under her pillow nested Aegon’s baby blanket. Soon she would have embroidered into one her gowns. It was always the same dream and the same nightmare. She would dream of her son in a far away place. Lately she hated closing her eyes afraid that her last remaining children would be slaughtered in their sleep. but it was the only way she could see Aegon. She still chased the ghost of her dead son.

After breaking her fast with her children she and Rhaenor took a walk along the walls of the red keep. It had come to her that she never left the Red Keep, unlike Rhaenor and Aella who always toured the city and rode their dragons, she remained closed off. “I was thinking.” Rhaenor said stopping to look at the ships docking. “The King’s wood would be an excellent place to host the return of father and Baelon, we could invite the great houses to send their finest knights for a tournament.”

“You think your father woukd be pleased to be welcomed by a grant feast after his failed conquest.” The queen smiled.

“Dorne is conquerable, but with only three armies and no dragons.” Rhaenor said handing her a few parchments. She heisted to read but his plan was well executed. There were a few sketches of machines in another parchment, one being a large machine with dragon wings and a seat with weapons attached to its side. “Whats this?” The queen asked. Rhaenor shrugged “A dragon, but not a dragon.”

“You plan to use three armies all throughout Dorne.” The queen said scanning the paper. “Will you send this down to the marches?”

Rhaenor shook his head and folded back into his pocket. “Aella said it’s best to keep it hidden someone else will find it. I agree we cannot invade Dorne now, we must wait. “

“There are other ways to get Dorne on our side.” The queen said as they continued to walk back to the castle.

“Such as?”

“Marriage alliances.”

Rhaenor paused but slowly nodded “I should’ve thought of that.” The queen chuckled and soon Rhaenor began speaking of marrying a Dornish princes, marrying the future princess’s to the Starks and the Tyrell’s. “I must tell Lord Edwell.” Rhaenor said kissing his mother’s cheek before sprinting away almost tripping over himself.

The queen has becomes influential during her time as regent. Many had forgotten the death of her brothers and her son but did not. Despite her losses she was still sane. Even when the gods had abandoned her.

Lady Elinor asked for an audience with the queen and they agreed to meet in the queen’s chamber. Eleanor was a beautiful woman with three children, although a widow she had been summoned to marry Maegor to provide him with heirs. The queen loathe him for it, he had three healthy heirs despite the queen preventing herself from getting pregnant on three different occasions. She was fertile woman still in her youth and prime and Skyfyre had delivered more eggs than Vhagar all which remained scattered on dragon stone.

“From a mother to another, I have come to beg for your leave to send my two eldest son’s away from the Red keep.” Lady Elinor spoke holding her fist to her chest. “Allow me to see them leave the gates to never return, if not they will squire for his grace and his children, please your grace.”

The queen paused she had not sat down and Elinor was already imploring her spare her sons. “The life of one’s child is paramount, but what do I gain from sending your sons away?” The queen said solemnly. “Your loyalty?”

Elinor shifted in her sit but did not back down. “Women who have lost are bound together by their will to survive. “ Elinor had the look of a mother who would not be casted down. That made the queen distrust her. There was nothing more dangerous than a mother who loved her children. “When the time comes, and my son takes the throne, your family will back his claim.” Lady Elinor did not have time to speak before the queen left the room without another word. —————————————————————————

Baelon had promised his mother he would only squire for his father, truth was he active on the battle field. He spend more time leading a cavalry than fetching cups and shields. He had seen death up close and had filled the wagons with the bodies of dead soldiers and dug their graves. The comfort of the castle seemed almost foreign to him. He had grown into a tall lean boy of fifteen and a spitting image of his father. He kept his hair short and his armor just like Maegor. Every week he wrote to his mother, he did not mean to lie to her but he knew his mother would demand his return once she learned of his actions. The marches were huge and stretched out for miles, he had gone from Blackhaven to Ashford and down to the Three Towers. The Marcher lords had allied themselves with the crown to prevent a Dornish invasion.

Baelon sought his fathers approval in every way possible, but there were rare occasions where he stood his ground. It was the day of his fifteenth name day, his father granted him Dark sister and knighted him after the battle of Wyl. By the time he was to retire to his pavilion he found his father standing outside .”It is time your mother’s cuddling comes to an end and for you to become a man” Maegor said pulling back the curtain to reveal a naked camp follower laying on his bed.

She was a Dornish beauty with big almond eyes and long brown hair. He had never been with a woman and truthfully he always believed to have been Betrothed to Aella. Once his father left and the woman began to undress him he stopped her, Baelon granted her fifty golden dragons and send her off, he did not care that his father mocked him Infront of entire army, and did not flinch when Maegor called him a half man. But his expression did sour once his father took the whore back to his pavilion. He felt foolish for thinking his father would be loyal to his mother. Even more foolish to realize one of the whore’s at camp had been send away with a pregnant belly. Baelon vowed to father no bastards, take no whores or humiliate his future wife. It was the least he could after what his father had done.

The prince always rode his dragon Nightfyre early on the morrow. His dragon grew quicker by the day and ate the wild animals that roamed the marches. Baelon was sure his dragon ate more than animals. The prince rode high up into the clouds and waited for the morning fog to fade, he could see the small tip of one of the towers at Starfall and the dim light of the Hightower Lighthouse. He spotted a large cavalry marching down to Blackmont, which was strange since their camp was set near Kingsgrave. There would be no attack until his father ordered it. Baelon’s skin began to crawl as the dark shadow of Belarion covered both him and his dragon. “We need to talk, Baelon.” His father said.

Baelon landed Nightfyre in one of the red mountains and walked with his father at the very edge of the cliff. His father placed his hand on his shoulder, his grip a bit firm. “Do you know why I brought you here?” Maegor asked.

“To experience war?” Baelon replied

Maegor shook his head and let go on his shoulder “Long ago before you were born, before I was born. My father tried conquering Dorne only to fail.” Baelon rested his hand on the hilt of Darkfyre and looking into the far distance were the green marches met the large sand dunes of Dorne. His mother had sang him the song, the maesters had thought him the history. “I believe we will prevail, and rule over these lands.”

“They would never bend the knee, even if we slaughtered every man woman and child.” Baelon said watching the Cavalry become smaller and smaller.

Maegor scoffed and patted him on the back “That’s why we’re here, to make them bend the knee. It’s pointless to fight against our army” his father confident tone was slowly convincing him. “Think of finishing what your grandsire started” Baelon stared at his fathers black circlet with red stones, one day the same crown would rest on his head. Baelon was ready to mount his dragon and join the rest of army but Maegor stopped him. “That Dornish whore” he began catching Baelon’s attention. “I won’t ask why you denied her service, but I will admit your mother’s cuddling has soften your brother. “ Baelon’s gaze harden but he didn’t say anything. “You are my heir, you will be a man, mayhaps not now, but you will become one.”

Baelon swallow a knot on his throat and fixed his posture “The other.. woma- whore. She has your bastard.” He said his shoulders tensing back again.

“But you will not be replaced.” Maegor reassured him. “I do favor your mother but…she is just a wife to me. “

“A wife?”

“Nothing more.”

Baelon’s skin crawled at his father’s word.Even if his father was not loyal to his mother he had expected him to view her more than a wife. His mother was dutiful she had cared for his father despite his actions. But she would never be more than just a wife. She was simply another one of his wives. Suddenly the idea of conquering Dorne seemed useless, his father did not deserve to rule a land where women were men’s equal. He didn’t deserve to be near his mother.

Maegor’s grip suddenly tightened on Baelon’s shoulder not allowing him to look away as fire began to grow off in the distance. Baelon came to the realization his father was no longer sparing the towns or villages. He would burn the innocent to get what he wanted.

“Stop them!” Baelon snapped rushing back to Nightfyre but he felt the sharp tip of Blackfyre on his back. “Do you have any idea who were are?” His father cold voice filled his ears.

“We are the blood of old Valyria, I will burn Dorne to the ground if it’s necessary“ Baelon gulp as Blackfyre poke deeper into his back, his skin itched as he felt the sharp blade begin to cut. “I was wrong for allowing your mother to cuddle you, I should’ve prepared you for war. A real war.”

Baelon drew his sword and pointed it at his father barely cutting his jaw in the process. Maegor’s eyes darkened and his fist flew to Baelon’s face making him stumble backwards . Dark sister flew away from Baelon’s hand The prince spat out blood and felt the taste of copper in his mouth. “Fighting me will not save those lives.” Maegor said his fist knocking Baelon into the ground his time. “They will bend the knee or Die”

Baelon felt his face begin to swell beneath his skin and blood begin to fall. His eyes became blurry as they fogged up with salty tears. “I won’t let you” Baelon hissed weakly. He tried to stand back up but Maegor punched him back down. “You want to die for Dorne?!” Maegor snapped “Fine!” His first hit Baelon even harder than the last time.” Whats fifteen more years?” with each punch Baelon sank deeper into the ground “I can always start again, make another heir.” Maegor did not stop his hands until they were fully covered with blood. Nightfyre had tried flying back to Baelon but Belarion had launched itself to the smaller dragon. Baelon’s vision went blank and his body went still. He drifted into a long sleep his body leaving all the pain behind.

Baelon woke up three days later, all he wanted was water and his mother. Nightfyre lay next to him also wounded. His entire body ached and he had no strength to sit on his saddle. He stared up at the sky for hours his face stinging and burning. The sun had done its work for those three days. When nighttime came he dragged himself to Nightfyre whoused his wings to lift him up. His knees were weak but he managed to climb back into his saddle. He managed to speak to Nightfyre, his Valyrian words were barely understandable but the dragon searched the skies until he found the camp. All the soldiers watched Baelon dismounted his dragon with Dark sister in hand, his eyes were both black, both his jaw and nose broke and his entire face was swollen with dry blood. The once handsome face of the prince was now unrecognizable. He used his sword as cane and to guide his way to his father’s pavilion.Ser Corwyn Velaryon was the first to aid him but Baelon refused as he withdrew the tent’s curtain to find his father and a small council gathered around a table. Baelon threw dark sister down to his father’s feet and spat. “You can keep the sword and your whores”

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The small council had already began by the time Tyanna made her way into the room. The queen regent had made it clear that her children were to attend the small council along with the rest of the council. Although she failed miserably at her poisoning attempts Tyanna was sure she would regain her station once Maegor returned. She had become useless as mistress of whispers since the queen had found another alternative. She wasn’t present a court as she used to instead she locked herself in her chambers while the rumors that she dwelled in dark magic surrounded her.

The queen that was once afraid to be near her now cut her leg beneath the table of men. She was undermined, mocked and ignored. The queen found amusement in her misery and filled the hall with rumors surrounding Tyanna.

Grand Maester Benifer glanced at the queen as she spoke with Lord Tymond the handsome young lord from the west. The queen had was a woman and a mother but she still bore the looks of her youth. The princess who was once gentle was caring was now paranoid and ambitious. She schemed and abused her power. Although she was loved by the small folk and had allied herself closely with the Tyrell’s, Starks and Arryn’s she wanted more. Mayhaps it was her time with Vinseya or the loss of her half of her family or simply the abuse she had endured but the queen was not herself. Her true colors slowly slipped, there was no saving the girl who was abandoned by the gods.

“The wedding, should be a grand occasion, King’s landing is prosperous and the royal vault is overflowing with gold.” Lord Edwell said as he took a slow sip of his wine.

“I say we propose a tournament”

“The king and my son will be tired from battle, let us celebrate with a feast a fortnight after their arrival.” The queen suggested

“The people of king’s landing will want entertainment, let us grand twenty thousand gold dragons to the winner, and ten thousand who ever come second.” Lord Daemon suggested.

“The crown is at war my lords, let us save our gold” Tyanna interrupted sitting forward in her chair.

The queen snickered “The crown is not at war Tyanna.”

“We are, you chose to ignore it. Now another one brews in the Riverlands. House BlackWood and House Bracken are yet in another battle, why has the crown not intervened I may ask?” Tyanna spoke this time more louder. “My lords, I ask you let us summon both houses and settle this matter at once. “

The queen raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her wine.“And I will remind you all, The Blackwoods and Brackens have tussled with each other for centuries. “ the queen said. “Should we waste our breaths where we are not needed?”

“Let us be done then”

Tyanna was seething by the time she left the small council, her ears rang and she stumbled back into her chambers. Her hands shook as she open a wooden box with small vails. She picked a soft blue liquid and held up to the light, she had hesitated to use such potent poison. It took a few minutes to settle into the body of the victim but it got the job done. She could do it now, poison the Targaryen queen and reclaim her position but Tyanna knew it was not the time. She simply tucked in inside her dress.

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After many months King Maegor and Prince Baelon ducked into the arbor. The Targaryen banners danced with the wind and the castle began to fill itself anticipation. The summer had come to an end and the year to a close. Princess Aella fiddled with her ring as she waited at the gates of the Red Keep. Her mother was next to her and her brother stood close. Tyanna had not attended the welcoming but her aunt Rhaena and her father’s future wives had. It had been years since she saw her brother and had kept all the letters he had written her. Seeing again made her nervous.

“King Maegor King first of his name” Was all she heard before nothing seemed to matter anymore. Baelon had gotten taller and his face had changed, his nose looked slightly broken and he had a few scars on his face, strapped to his waist was a sword which she recognized. Aella watched her mother hug Baelon tightly and she watched him and Rhaenor laugh and hug tightly. Timidly she bowed before her father before placing a small kiss on his cheek. She looked back at Baelon who was waiting for her with a grin on his face. She could not hold her grace any longer and ran to his arm.

The queen extended her hand for her husband to kiss which she did. He wrapped his arm around her made his way into the castle.”How many men did you put to the sword during my absence, my dear wife?”

“You surround yourself with fools husband, there was need for change.” The queen replied looking back at court who followed them back into the keep. Her caught a glimpse of her sister who kept her daughters close by while her companion Lady Elissa Farman walked next to her. The two sisters caught each other’s eye and awkwardly looked away.

Maegor had spent the evening alone enjoying the silence but Tyanna had other plans. “Tell me, anything that I should know before I marry once again” Maegor asked as he took off his chain mail. Tyanna scoffed and paced back and forth for a moment “I want her gone.” She commanded her face stoned and determined.

“As in?”

“Y/n, I have endured years of mockery during your absence, they whispered about me in the halls, I am undermined at the small council meetings. I am no longer the queen the eyes of the court.” She said slamming her hand against the hard oak table. “I want her gone.”

Maegor laughed and threw his chest plate into the ground. “The irony in this situation has not been lost on me, you cannot handle the idea someone else is more useful” He stood and served himself a cup wine. “Had you granted four heirs I might have consider it.”

“Three” Tyanna murmured. “You have three heirs”

Maegor cleared his throat and stayed silent. He had loved his son Aegon, more than anything. Aegon was his legacy and his heir. She had never seen him more angry and full of cruelty. He lost his son and his mother in a span of days, Alyssa had fled with her children and his wife was full of grief. There was no remorse of hesitation when he ordered for the torture of Viserys Targaryen. “A son for a son.” He had said.

Tyanna had helped him and aid in the corruption of the princess, without her knowledge Tyanna fed into the paranoia of the princess. Maegor had her and would turn her against her mother, brother and sisters. She was the only Targaryen who was cruel but did not yet realize.

“During your absence she has appointed Lords and Ladies to serve her. Yet you do not worry or think of the possibilities she might stab you and take the throne.” Tyanna placed her hand on his back and leaned closer. “She will betray you “ she kissed cheek her smoky scent lingering on him.

“Do not speak of this again.” He warned her.

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The queen was more than content to have her eldest son at court. She had even allowed her children to spend time with their cousins. Lady Jeyen Westerling had began her labors and Lady Elionor was spending time with her sons before she send them away, Maegor was doing his own private matters. Tyanna had been locked in her room avoiding the court. Leaving the queen and her sister to stand awkwardly next to each other. The rest of the court chatted and laughed together at the courtyard whilst the two fiddled with their hands just as they had done when they were young girls.

Up in the sky the dragons flew around chasing one another singing a beautiful melody that attracted the crowd. Skyfyre and Dreamfyre danced beautiful among the clouds just as they had done when their riders still shared a bed chamber.

“Do you still ride?” Rhaena asked breaking the silence. The queen did not shrink “less and less these days”

Rhaenor sat under the weirwood reading to the twins, they were all closer in age and whilst Aera looked bored, Rhaella looked interested and even scooted closer. Aella and Baelon sat by them both of them lost in their conversation.

“She looks like you, that one.” Rhaena smiled at her niece from afar. “She’s good, strong and independent.” The queen agreed. She loved her children but Aella had determination and will to achieve her desires, something her mother admired. She scanned the courtyard and spotted Elisa Farman standing by the drink table, she was from a lesser house but had accompanied Rhaena across the Narrow sea. Rhaena had brought a set of handmaidens and servants from Volantis, the queen has no proof but she was sure the handmaidens were did more than keep her company. “It wasn’t necessary to bring the entirety of Volantis.” The queen scoffed.

“I find it more convenient, I have no taste for these people.” Rhaena said.

“Your taste is quite interesting, it’s more common than I realized.” The queen said nudging her sister to Tymond Lannister. The queen discovered her sister’s secret when she no more than a girl. It had been Aegon’s name day, she had broken her fast and rushed to meet her sister. When she opened the door she was greeted with the sight of her sister cupping the breast of Larissa Velaryon, princess Rhaena had swore it was just a game of girls. The princess was not a fool and knew the truth, soon she became responsible for helping her sister hide her games with the Samantha Stokeworth and Melony Piper.

Rhaena blushed and cleared her throat, “my taste is nothing compared to yours, you are young, graceful and beautiful and Maegor…”

“Maegor-“

“Is past his prime, is the crown?….Sister- come with me, the free cities are full of wealthy powerful men who would drool at the sight of you.” Rhaena said holding her sister’s hands.

“I love my husband.” The queen insisted.

Rhaena choked, her face was full of disbelief and confusion “Are you afraid of him? I can get you out of this.” She whispered.

“I’m not afraid of him anymore” the queen said taking her hands away. “I am his wife. I will not leave him for Volantis.”

“The door was opened for you, you could’ve followed me.” Rhaena said

.“When you left, he made sure no one else could. I am doing perfectly fine in my position, I have done my duty perfectly.” The queen said blankly.

“You haven’t so much as spoken about our mother, is that what you call perfect.?”

“She’s with her children, surrounding herself with treasonous bastards, Rogar Baratheon. Which you stopped to visit.” The queen hissed.

“Gods forbid I visit our mother” Rhaena hissed back. She was slight taller than the queen but their sharp gazes perfectly penetrated into each other.

“Fuck your Gods.” Seeing the queen and her sister was an odd sight. The way the queen looked at her sister one could assume they were strangers.

Kiara came in just in time before the banter could escalate any further, she whispered something into the ear which the queen nodded and left her sister.

Lady Jeyne given birth and had not seen her son before maids came in to take him away. “Whats happened?” She asked weakly as the midwife gently pushed her back into the birthing bed. Kiara stopped dead at her tracks and turned to face her. “The queen has requested that the child be brought to her, immediately.” Kiara closed the doors and locked them leaving Lady Jeyne and her servants inside. Two guards were told to keep watch until further notice.

Lady Jeyne son’s was handed to the queen who had suspicious of her husband. He had chosen to marry Jeyne after murdering her husband, who plot to put Jaehaerys on the iron throne. Jeyne had been pregnant before her husband perished but the queen’s paranoid became told her other wise. The boy was of house Boiling, if he was her husband’s bastard she might have send the boy away, to live as a bastard among the small folk nothing would in the way of having children on the throne, not after she clawed her to the top.

—————————————————————————

The wedding feast was held in the great hall two weeks after the arrival of the king. There was a tension masked by the music and the melody of the singers. Out of the three wives Rhaena was the coldest. Baelon had been quiet during the feast sulking into cups of wine. “He’s embarrassed you, mother “ he said bitterly. “How can you allow this”

The queen didn’t say anything her eyes watching Maegor share a dance with Lady Elionor, her mind went back to her own wedding. Lady Ceryse had been in her place before, so had been Alys and Tyanna. “This won’t matter anymore.” The queen replied. She had never been the jealous type, even when Maegor laid with his other wives she had not care, but she knew Rhaenas true intentions yet she knew nothing about the other wives. It seemed to the queen all she had endured in the hands of Maegor was now useless.

Rhaenor kissed his mother on the cheek and stood up and offered a hand to princess Rhaella who shyly sat watching her twin sister dance her heels away. Baelon soon followed by taking Aella to the dance floor, leaving Tyanna and the queen to sit alone at the high table.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” Tyanna said handing her a cup of wine.

“As long as it hurts us both.” The queen said taking the cup.

Tyanna laughed “Still you cannot seem to allow us to share a simple cup of wine.”

“I rather drink alone.” The queen murmured savoring the aged juice. “The Baratheons, they didn’t bother to send their regards.” Tyanna said.

“It wasn’t expected, they’re traitors.”

“Even when your own sister visited them, allying her self with the traitors?”

“She went to visit our mother, nothing more.” The queen set her cup down. Daemon Velaryon walked to the table bowing at the women “your graces, niece, House Velaryon stands with you during this troubling time.” He said looking back at the new queens.

“Thank you, uncle. You have been kind to us.” She said sighing. Once Daemon Velaryon left his son Corwyn came to meet them. He had aid her son and husband at the marches and ruled Driftmark while his father served the small council. Beside him was a small boy of five clinging to his father’s hand. “Your grace, My son Corlys Velaryon.” He smiled.

The queen smiled looking at the boy, he wore a light blue surcout with the Velaryon sigil. “What a galant knight you will be.” The queen smiled.

“My apologies for my lady wife’s absence, she is with child and unfit to travel. “ Corwyn explain

“She should be resting, the journey is short but exhausting. What have you chosen to name the babe.?” The queen asked.

“Vaemond.” Corlys spoke “I’ve named him myself” the boy said proudly.

“Have you now?” The queen chuckled.

The wedding feast was spend dancing and singing, her children danced with each other and half of the court. After years apart they enjoyed each other’s company and laughed together along with their cousins. The maesters write that queen y/n had been cold to new wives, but maester Benifer writes she had spend a portion of the feast out on the balcony’s sipping her wine.

“You never had a taste for wine, or feasts” Corwyn said leaning over the stone railing.

“They bore me.” The queen said sipping the last of her wine.

Corwyn chuckled his face admiring hers under the moon light. She always looked more beautiful when the night light kissed her skin. Her cheeks were slightly blushed from the wine and her hair was no longer on it’s up do. Her tiara rested slightly crooked on her head. “Allow me.” He said softly. He took it off and admiring it on his hand, her wondered how much it weight on her shoulder. Even after the years apart he still longed for her. The gods could forgive him but the king wouldn’t. The queen looked at him, tall and handsome he looked nothing like the boy who asked for her hand. Mayhaps it was the wine but the rush of kissing him lingered on her mind. Would she enjoy it the way she once enjoyed Maegor.? Why should she feel shame at such thoughts when her own husband would lay with another woman. She did not love Corwyn she never would, she would never love anything like the feeling of Maegor. His grunts and his desperation when he was deep into her skin. Melting into each other as he filled her with his seed just as he done countless of times. He loved to pain her face and take her once more in the bath tub. Suddenly her desire for Corwyn became only an urge to have Maegor pressed behind her. “I’m sorry” she said looking away.

Corwyn had stared at her for so long he didn’t realize she had done the same. “Don’t” he said moving her hair with his hand, she awoken the desire he had buried deep inside him. But she was not his, not here. Not any other life.

Rhaenor spun his sister once last time before this world stopped, Tyanna sat at the high table brooding ignoring a dark beared man whose hand hovered over his mother’s wine. She looked at Aella who danced with her twins and Baelon who clapped along the song. He had never trusted Tyanna, but the man did not belong to Tyanna. He walked to Baelon who pulled him back to dance. “On the morrow you and I are sparring” he grinned. “Not before he rides with me.” Aella said pulling her brother to dance.

“Will there be a tomorrow ?” Rhaenor laughed. He hugged his brother and kissed his sister on the head “And if so, I shall see you then, and if not, then one day.” He smiled. He danced his way off the floor waving at his brother and sister who groaned about his departure. He ignored the sinking feeling and picked the glass of wine, he was sure it was just a misunderstanding and the wine was normal but he still thought about the queen “Mother” He whispered as he filled his mouth with the sweet taste of wine.

“Drinking from my cup?” His mother teased from behind him.

Rhaenor chuckled and wiped his mouth off. “I was thirsty.” He shrugged.

“Your sister and brother will have to be dragged off the dance floor.” The queen chuckled as Baelon threw his sister into the air.

“I won’t.” Rhaenor smiled.

“Retiring early?”

Rhaenor nodded and wrapped his arm around his mother, “What ever happens, Father will realize he needs you more than we need you.” He said hugging her. The queen wrapped her arms around her son. “My sweet boy.”

Rhaenor bowed and smiled he walked off the dance floor and waved at his mother, the grin never leaving his face. “Aegon” he mouthed.

The queen had a smile on her face, she watched her son disappear and head to his chamber. She stood there for a moment as she realized what Rhaenor mouthed, her chest began to tighten and her stomach sank, the feeling felt her Aegon was taken from her. Her sweat ran cold and her feet began to move on their own. Bumping past the guest she felt her legs melt as she began to speed up. Soon she was no longer walking but running up the stairs and down the corridors. Nothing was stopping her and soon her shoes were off, the feeling grew stronger and she pushed the door open to find Rhaenor.

His body twitching gasping for air, his eyes shot red, blood spilling from his nose and ears, the veins on his body visible under his pale skin, “no no no” the queen begged as she cupped her son into her arms, she held his head trying to stop the bleeding but the blood only slipped through her fingers. Her cries were louder than the music her screams louder than the cries of a thousand men in battle. she held him closer begging for him to live. Her ears rang and even as she screamed she felt herself drowning . “My son, my boy” she sobbed clutching him close to her head as his body felt loose, he was gone. Her son was gone. Taken just his brother. The doors opened guards rushed in drawing their swords, “gods be good” Ser Olyver gasped.

The queen clanged to her son afraid to let him go, she ignored the screams of everyone her. She felt her sanity slipping away from her. She knew grief or at least she thought she did. Her father, her brothers her sons, what more would it take for to lose her mind completely. They had taken yet another son. Her most gentle and kind child, the boy had made peace even with the most vile of creatures. His heart so pure but his faith so cruel.

Admits the chaos and confusion she felt her son’s fist clutching a piece of parchment. She held it to read the words Baratheon. His hand writing barely readable. The queen looked to see her daughter sobbing in Baelon’s arms. The guards searched the room and Maegor yelled at Ser Olyver. She took the paper and hit and helped Kiara lift Rhaenor onto to his bed. Her paranoia had severed her right, the pain she felt watching her son peacefully sleeping on his bed turned into hatred. Pure hatred

The castle gates had been sealed and the red keep became a labyrinth of chaos. The throne room had been sealed closed and the three black brides and their children had been questioned as long with everyone else in the red keep. The queen was the last to enter her gown and hands covered in her son’a blood. Her heart twisting and turning with each step she took. The queen made her way to her children who were being shielded by Kiara and Grand Maester Benifer. She ignore what ever Maegor had to say, each new bride had been question and each noble had been threaten. The queen did not care for Lady Jeyne or Lady Elionor, not even Tynna. She wanted those responsible for the death of her son to he punished and her husband had not served justice the way she would’ve wanted.

“Let it be known, anyone found guilty of the death of my son will have their heads removed. “ Maegor warned the court. The queen felt anger rise within her, the old Maegor would’ve stopped at nothing to find those responsible for the death of her son. But not he simply threaten the court and the whores he had chosen to marry. The queen had swore to never take the child of another woman but only honorable people kept this oath’s.

“That is insufficient, our son is dead my king. Threatens will not serve justice.” The Queen insisted leaving Aella and Baelon’s side.

“I know, Y/n but what will you have me do, I can’t bring the boy back back to life.” Maegor hissed.

“No because he’s been murdered. There is a dent to be paid. I shall have one of her child’s head is return.” The queen spat turning to her sister. Gasp and murmurs filled the throne room and Rhaena stared at her sister in disbelief.

“Ser Olyver bring me the head of one the twins.” She said to the old commander. “My dear wife” Maegor began but the queen cut him off “I will give her the privilege to choose which twin.”

“mama-“ Aera and Rhaella hid behind their mother their faces full of tears and fear.“You will do no such thing” Rhaena said firmly as she and Elisa stood Infront of the girls.

“Stay your hand.” Maegor said firmly.

“It is my commanded!” The queen snapped.

Ser Olyver gaze from sister to sister remembering his vows and promise her made to king Aenys. But was he to do when he needed to protect each sister from some another. He cleared his throat and finally spoke. “He is the king, your grace.”

The queen had only hatred in her eyes and the need felt her power slipping away. “This matter is finished. Anyone who dares to spill Targaryen blood under my watch will be punished.” Maegor’s voice boomed loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“Thank you, your grace.” Rhaena said softly.

No one had enough time to blink before the queen snatched Cats paw from Maegor waist, she ran to her sister the dagger in hand and pulled her by her hair pushing her daughters in the process. Chaos erupted around them and the two women fought shoved one another just as they had done when they were girls. Only now one of the sister wanted to kill the other. The queen was determined to kill one the twins or her own sister but her son would be an avenged. Her eyes were full of rage as she screamed trying to stab Rhaena. The queen was quick but Rhaena was stronger and stood her ground holding her sister in place. One arm tightly held up the queen’s arm while the other tried pushing her back. Kiara and Elissa had their own confrontation and both woman ignored the king’s shouts. “What have you you done” Rhaena cried.

“What haven’t I done?!. For you- for the family! Just to be betrayed in the end! ” The queen hissed viciously “I’ve stayed to suffer the consequences of your own actions.” The queen eyes were glossed with rage and hatred as she pushed the dagger down ready to stab her sister on her face. “You side with enemy and expect no punishment. You never do! Now you take my child and expect for yours to live.” The queen said her grip of the dagger not faltering. Rhaena looked into her sisters eyes and saw pure madness. It was not the rage of a bitter sister or a cold hearted queen but the rage of grieving mother.

“Sister” Rhaena begged softly

But the queen pushed the dagger down just in time for Ser Olyver to pull her away before she could stand her sister again. The sound of flesh cutting was heard in the silent throne room and Rhaena lowered her arm, her face was intact but her her arm suffered a large cut that bled out onto the floor. The entire room was divided and swords had been drawn. The queen watched her sister bleed but still held on to the dagger. Her children rushed to her not having seen that side of their mother. Rhaena knew her sister hated her with every inch of her bone and the regret of returning began sinking on her. Her sister would never forgive her, blood had been spill and queen was covered in it.

From afar Maegor locked eyes with Tyanna who had watched the chaos unfold. He had never seen that side of his wife but if she was capable of killing them she was capable of betrayal. He could have her hung but it would not change a thing. Tyanna had believed herself to be clever but she was not clever enough to predict the death of Rhaenor. She knew Rhaena sealed her faith once she visited her mother at storms end. The told stag had been clever to turn sister against sister beating Tyanna at her on game. True she never loved any of Maegor’s children but she wouldn’t have killed them after they were born, instead she had always aimed for the bitch that bred them. She looked at the poison tucked inside her dress admiring the vail. There was no need to kill the queen, she had already died inside.

—————————————————————————

Baelon did not sleep, he stayed up watching his sister sleep peacefully. His mother had sat alone staring into the fire until it burned out. The silent sisters had mended Rhaenro’s body but his mother commanded his body remained intact and dressed in his finest clothes. The small folk morned the prince the court cried for him. But Baelon had lost his last brother, his best friend. He wondered if Rhaenor was with Aegon and if they were happy. Rhaenor dragon had cried and flown all over since his death, he was restless and untamable. Baelon silently cried in his mother’s arms until his body could no longer bare it.

A man had been arrested by the kings guards and killed by Maegor, the maesters write the queen ordered for his blood to be brought to her so might bathe in it. On that account grand Maester Benifer does not disagree.the old Lord Celtigar felt the death of the prince as the loss of a son. The boy had followed him around for most of his life. Months before his father returned to marry his new wives Rhaenor approached the hand of the king and grand Master Benifer to write a series of letters defending and backing up Baelon Targaryen’s claim to the throne. The plan was to write a total twenty five letters that were divided evenly among the three men. In the end they wrote eighty five letters in the span of six months, Lord Edwell fell sick after writing five, Grand Maester Benifer wrote twenty nine Prince Rhaenor wrote the other fifty one.

Rhaenor’s body had been burned using his mother’s dragon. His body laid peacefully on the wooden planks, his arms resting on his stomach holding a wooden dragon. The air thicken with the heavy small of flesh and hair burning away. The Red keep never again felt the kinder and pleasant since his death. The prince never grew old he remained forever young.

Following the days after the death of the prince the tension between husband and wife grew thicker by the day. The queen attended the small council meetings but remained cold towards the court. The death of another son had turned her heart into stone and soon rumors began to surround her. Y/n the cursed. Unlike the death of Aegon, Rhaenor’s death had left nothing but hatred and anger. With every passing moment she thought about punishing Rogar and his brood of stags. For her sake and sanity Maegor send Rhaella Targaryen to serve as a septa and Aeria Targaryen remained at court. Lady Jeyne and Lady Elionor followed suit sending their children away afraid that the queen would slaughtered them in their sleep.

It had been the hour of the owl and members of the small council had been summoned to meet away from the preying eyes and opened ears of the red keep. Grand Maester Benifer, Lord Tymond, Lord Edwell, Ser Olyver, and Lord Daemon all met the queen in a small room just below the dungeons. Illuminated by a few torches they all stood around the table waiting, they had met very few times to discuss matters beyond the realms interest. “Your grace” each lord said as they watched the queen enter. Kiara had secretly met with the lords privately and informed them of who she believed was responsible. They had doubted the hand maiden but once she showed them the parchment with the words Baratheon they were all convinced.

Lord Edwell was the first to speak“Prince Rhaenor was like a son to me, his death was an unexpected tragedy. Call the banners your grace, House Celtigar stands at the ready. We shall root Rogar Baratheon out of his castle like Aegon the conqueror did in days of old.”

“Days you yourself witness, my lord.” Lord Tymond grinned.

Lord Daemon cleared his throat “Now it’s not the time for jests Lord Tymond. Lord Edwell is right, I have send my son Corwyn to Driftmark to ready the ships if needed.”

“House Lannister pledges their support your grace” Tymond pitched in. “Before his death prince Rhaenor was wise to leave letters supporting prince Baelon’s claim.” Grand measter Benifer spoke. “But what will we must do with prince Jaehaerys and his sister.”

“What is necessary, a living claimant to the throne cannot be let free. It only invites battle and blood shed.” Lord Edwell said looking at the queen.

“Your grace- prince Jaehaerys is your brother by blood and dowager queen Alyssa is your mother, think of your sister Alyssane.” Benifer insisted.

“The king did not wish for the murder of his son, grand measter. Will you deny his that? ” Lord Daemon said.

“Your grace-“grand measter Benifer was cut off again. “The thought is unsavory but we must do what is needed.” Lord Tymond said growing impatient. The queen looked at grand maester Benifer her gaze harden no longer holding the innocence she once had. She was no longer a girl of fourteen but a woman grown. A woman who had lost what she held dearly. For once the old maester did not the queen to look at him.

“I want Jaehaerys Targaryen and his bitch mother.”

[misty--nights]

So I'm watching the show yet again (usually I struggle watching shows, I don't know how I've managed to watch it twice already and still want to watch it a third time), and here are some things that I've noticed in episode 1, after the read more because it got longer than expected.

Charles calls himself the brawn and the protector of the two, but it's Edwin who goes all serious and says "I would not let that happen" when Charles asks what they'd do if Death came for them. I'm sure/concerned that he'd try to fight her if she ever came to take them...

Edwin knits!! When they are wearing their disgusses to get the demon out of Crystal he knitts while Charles reads the newspaper. Granted, you can only see him doing for a short moment, so I don't know if he's doing it properly, but I like to think he is. I have many thoughts about this, but it would take over the whole post. I'm still willing to make a whole post for it if anyone is interested but yeah. Bottom line is, Edwin can knitt!

The tone of voice that Crystal uses when she first wakes up in the Agency and in her walk with Charles is really different to the tone she uses the rest of the season. In hindsight, it's pretty obvious that is her mean girl tone, but still, I just think it's a nice detail.

Edwin takes Crystal's coffee cup when she takes the mail? We've just stablished he's not going to drink it, so is he just being petty? Is he going to throw it away or hide it just to be a nuisance? Is he investigating what she got? This boy, I swear...

I know people have pointed out all the Clue boards in the closet, but there's also a ouija board there? Hilarious. Maybe some ghosts prefer communicating with that instead of speaking? Or Charles got it because he thought it was funny and then never got rid of it?

I like that the thing that convinces Edwin to take the Becky Aspen case is Charles asking if he's going to let a little girl die. But more importantly, the title card right after that says "three flights". I've had this question for a bit, but what do they do during those flights? Do the boys spend those just standing in the hallway next to Crystal's seat? Do they sit in the cockpit? Do they hide in the bathroom until someone comes to use it? Do they hope for empty seats they can use? I don't know, every possible version of their trip is so funny to me. I know ghosts don't get tired like alive people, but the idea of them just standing awkwardly off to the side for more than 10 hours is hilarious.

No big detail here, I just love Crystal's purple coat thing she wears in this episode. Never really noticed that it has like flowers embroidered at the bottom, and the color of the whole thing is so nice.

"Maybe he's our fucking demon now." Crystal I love you, that is one of the funniest lines in the episode. I also really like that she gets to be angry and scared. Even if later Jenny talks her down from the worst it, it's not her anger that she points out, it's the fact that people are just like that and how the boys act is nothing personal. Her anger is not directly attacked (except by Edwin, but that's just him being petty), because she gets to be angry about all that's happening to her.

The flashback to Edwin's life at St. Hilarion's changes the video aspect (is that the proper term for that? It makes the screen square like in older films is what I mean.) Also he card for that flasback specifies "Edwardian England" even while having the date at the bottom. I don't know, it made me chuckle that they felt the need to clarify the era even while having the date there. They don't put "modern day England" for Crystal's flashback.

With the way the cat reacted to the sardine, I'm willing to bet he would have told Edwin everything without the binding spell if Edwin had a few more fish for him.

When they're talking behind the shop and Crystal says she gets angry, Charles looks down and takes a bit to respond. I think this is the first time he relates to her. The first time he can call that pull twards her something more than mere attraction. He has this very vulnerable look when she says it and then immediately shows her his parents and tells her something he's never told anyone before? This boy saw his anger in someone else and thought maybe it's fine for him to be angry too.

Is it a trick of the light in the scene where she meets Niko, or does Crystal have a septum piercing?

"If you're sticking around, you gotta let us in." Charles, I love you, but you are the last person who should be saying this. Specially after that sad look he gets when Crystal says it must be hard not being able to talk or hug his parents. You just agreed to what she said, as if that were the truth of why you check on them, what do you mean "you gotta let us in"? (I do get that they haven't known each other for long so he's not going to open up about all his trauma, but precisely because of that, it's wild for him to expect her to do it.)

I never noticed Charles quickly returning the mirror to normal when Edwin comes. I'd noticed the audio cue for the mirror changing back, but I never noticed Charles moving to do it and he looks so panicked about it.

Considering how Edwin is about touch, the fact that he lets Crystal take his hand when she tells the that the case matters is huge.

Why are they planning down at the shop when they have Crystal's room all to themselves? Besides the ambiance, of course. I think Jenny's reaction is completely justified.

Esther leaves her turntable on when she goes to the post office. Is it for Monty? The atmosphere? Did she just forget?

Not a new discovery, just a reminder of something I really like. There's this very specific editing thing (like the quick cuts between the instruments and then the opened lock, I don't know what to call it) that they do pretty much every time Charles picks a lock / opens a door, and it makes me very happy each time. The sound they use for it is perfection.

Edwin's attention to detail is insane. The fact that he can recall one cupboard is further forward than it was in the plans is really impressive.

Charles sounds so done when he throws the magic backpack. "Put her in the bag-of-tricks backpack." Man, I can hear the eye roll in that sentence. Good to know Edwin isn't the only bitchy one in this relationship.

And that's it for episode 1. I think I might do this for the others as well as I watch them. It was really fun to do, and it forces me to pay attention to the details, so I think it's worthwhile.

[wm1nqlv]

been rereading tgcf and I wanna talk about it.

Ultimately it is a tale of resilience and perseverance and the strength and power of actively choosing kindness, breaking out of trauma cycles and of course forging your own, third path.

volume 6

SPOILERS

.

.

Just before arc 4 you get this whole xianle trio reunion and hc chase shenanigans. The cave of ten thousand gods is great because finally xie lian knows the truth (or half of it), hua cheng is embarassed, scared and vulnerable but he still won’t just cower in the corner. He takes care of xie lian even if his old friends think he’s nuts and want to protect xl from hc. But they never even listen to what he thinks or wants. (Ofcourse sometimes people don’t recognize it themselves if they’re being harmed.)

Anyways everything’s out in the open and feelings and care get returned, hooray!

Then in the flashback we see the trio again and their dynamic, their positions, the hierarchy between them, even as theyre facing poverty together, Xls leftover naïveté and ignorance and what formed the dynamics of their present.

„Xie Lian had always believed in "forever" —friends would always be friends forever, with no betrayal, no deception, no breaking up. Perhaps there would come a time when they had to part, but it wouldn't be for a reason like "things got too horrible."”

The absolute heartbreak of friendship breakups. And yet even though he truly saw them as friends how could it be when there is such a clear hierarchy between them? Mu Qing had to take care of his own mother along with Xie Lians parents and the three of them. Feng Xin couldn’t even tell him about Jian Lan. He was trying to earn money for them and for her at the same time. And he stayed unwaveringly beside him until he could not recognize xie lian anymore.

In arc 2 we saw who xie lian was 800 years ago and some of what knocked him down. But now we see he’s still a (defeated) crown prince and newly fallen god. He has to adjust to his new life. He’s proud. He’s humbled but still far away from his present day personality.

We see how much more he had to endure. Trauma he had to go through that no one even sees. That time when white no face/bai wuxiang would show himself to him but no one else could see?

He was (left) alone in his suffering, (besides a ghost that he couldn’t even recognize), but how could anyone support him if they did not know or understand what was going on? So with there being no one left to comfort xl beside white no face after everything, xl even feels touched by it in a corner of his heart. But still clearly and continuously sees and rejects him for and fights against the monster he is.

This is where the choosing kindness and overcoming trauma part comes.

To seek out and recover goodness and your own heart.

And how significant one act of kindness can be, how much it can move.

“One person. Just one. Really. Just one person was enough.”

Him choosing to wait for just one person to show and prove their humanity, proving with all his effort white no face still could not simply turn him into a copy, make him turn against his own humanity in the long term.

We also see the contrast of true harmful of obsession and stalking and true but not unseeing love and devotion. The little ghost fire and Wu Ming loving and wishing to protect him without even letting him know who he is.

Removing themselves when xie lian tells him to and yet also having a mind of his own and doing things against what he’s told. (The wall of ghost fires, the flower, the end.)

He sees xl but he doesn’t stop believing in or loving him. And the tragedy is that it is exactly what xl needs in that time but he can’t recognize it because of his trauma.

Is Hua Cheng boring and slightly codependent because of that? Because he is focused so much on Xie Lian? Maybe but I think because he does have so much of his own mind and makes his own decisions, against what xl tells him to or makes him look good, like in the beginning of the volume too, I think he’s interesting and sometimes seeing your loved one go through the worst will just do that with you. (Also he has his very own ideas about heaven and the systems in place and built up ghost city on his own. He doesn’t even agree with or want to follow xls path for himself. But what we also always see is their mutual respect for one another, never trying to change the other or force them.)

Let me know your thoughts if you want!

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

26 - Callsign: Sunshine

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky, OMC Captain Bodhi 'Sunshine' Denson x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: All kinds in this one! We've got heavy alcohol comsumption, SMUT, protected!piv, typical fighter pilot violence, AN ACTUAL FIGHT with blood and punching (and one cheap shot) mentions of death and cancer treatment

A/N: This one is gonna hurt. And it's not Jake this time. (Well maybe a tiny bit)I told y'all Bodhi was important. This is all flashbacks but they're super important and it's kind of wrapping up some plot points and connecting some things. As always, comments, likes, reblogs are most appreciated! Check out the other two parts of this story by heading over the the Masterlist for Twisters/TopGun Crossover!

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @barnesboo1967 @dizzybee03 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989 @khouse712

Sam never thought she'd see Bodhi again after that night, but she did. A couple of weeks later, it was spring break, and she'd come home, and to the realization that her father might not make it to her graduation. He was currently undergoing a round of chemotherapy, which seemed to be helping significantly. So, they wanted to keep it up until he was at a comfortable place, but there was no way he could get on a plane in his condition, with his destroyed immune system. 

Sam went to a bar that night, not even one she knew, and had too many drinks. She was about to text her mother to come get her, which was the most embarrassing thing ever, when she felt a hand at her back. It equally startled and comforted her.

“Samantha.” It was Bodhi. His smile was warm and inviting and Sam nearly fell into him. She giggled and he took a hold of her, steadying her. 

“Too much to drink again, honey?” He mused. 

“Hi Sunshine, what brings you here?” Sam hadn't put together just how drunk she was until she heard herself slur her words. This was bad. 

“Well, sweet girl, I think I might be here to save you from yourself.” Bodhi said, as he guided her away from the bar and threw some cash toward the bartender. He gave him a thumbs up and shooed them away. An easy smile crossed Bodhi’s lips as he helped her onto the sidewalk. “I’ll drive you home, honey.”

He ushered her carefully to his truck and the whole way, Sam was laughing and telling him how sick her father was, how good she was doing in school, and how terribly sad she was that her father was probably going to miss her graduation. 

“I’m sure he’ll figure a way to get there. If I know anythin’ about Iceman, it’s that he’s always reliable.” Bodhi said, as they got to his truck. Sam turned in his arms, letting her lips fall toward his. It shocked him and then he eased her away for a moment.

“Honey...not like this. You’re way too drunk.” He said softly, running a hand over her cheek. There was a sadness in her eyes that he hated to see there. He wanted to make it better but he knew he couldn’t do a damn thing. 

“Take me to your place.” She slurred and Bodhi sighed. His place was closer. He helped her up into the truck and then drove. Back to his tiny studio apartment. It was the third floor, and had a great view of the ocean. Bodhi helped Sam up the stairs, careful to not let her trip. Once they were inside, he settled her on the couch.

“Can I see your phone? I'll text whoever you need me to.” He said and Sam very willingly handed her phone over.

“Just text my mom and tell her I went home with Nat. She'll know who that is.” Sam said, laying down on her side. She coughed and heaved, causing Bodhi’s eyes to widen and run to the kitchen. He grabbed a large pot, figuring if she was going to throw up, at least she could have something to catch it in. He was in for a rough night. He sent a text to her mother.

Sam: staying at Nat’s tonight

It took a few minutes but her mother responded with no more than an ‘okay’ and that was enough acknowledgement for Bodhi. He gave Sam her phone back, and then he sat down next to her. She smirked and sat up, reaching for him.

“Ohhh Sunshine...Sunshiiiine.” She chimed, making him chuckle. He shook his head as she latched onto him and leaned in to kiss him.

“Honey, we can't.” He said softly, running his knuckles over her cheek as her mouth connected with his messily. He allowed the kiss but when she let her fingers drift down to his belt, he stopped her.

“Sweet girl...if you really want me that bad, you can have me in the mornin’ when you’re not drunk. I ain’t takin’ you like this.” He pulled her against him and she struggled for a moment, clawing at his shirt. She just wanted to have sex. Meaningless sex, and he wasn’t having it, and she wasn’t understanding why through the shroud of alcohol, but she’d come to her senses in the morning.

She fell asleep sprawled on top of him.

Halfway through the night, she woke up, puking in the bucket, which then woke Bodhi up. He took her to the bathroom and held her hair as she vomited several more times. He wiped her mouth and chin off. He helped her out of the pretty dress she had been in and into one of his old t-shirts. He got her water and brought her to his bed and tucked her under the covers. He dumped the bucket in the toilet and then washed it out and placed it by the side of the bed. He climbed under the covers next to her and rubbed her back until she fell asleep again.

When the sun shone through the windows in the morning, Sam had a ripping headache and her throat hurt. She rolled to face the handsome pilot. He did not stir, only breathed softly next to her, an arm draped over her. She was dizzy and she decided to crawl out of bed and find the bathroom. The studio was small, so that wasn’t hard.

After she found some mouthwash and took a quick shower, she headed back to the bedroom, where Bodhi was still asleep. She cuddled up to him under the covers and after a little while, he awoke. He shifted and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. 

“You’re not burning up anymore.” He whispered and she cocked a brow.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice raspy. 

“You were so drunk. You were pouring sweat in your sleep. I had put a cool cloth over your forehead to help.” Bodhi explained as his arms came to wrap around her. 

“Did we...” She asked, and Bodhi, seeing the worry in her eyes, comfortingly rubbed her back.

“No honey. I wouldn't do that to you.” He said softly, bringing tears to Sam's eyes. She tentatively stretched towards him and he closed the rest of the distance to kiss her. 

“Like I said last night, if you still feel the same, you can have me now, since you're not drunk anymore.” He mused, his voice taking on a slightly husky quality whether he meant it no or not. It sent a jolt straight through her core, her abs tightening with the thought of him inside her again. She did want him. She wanted his musky, mature scent caging her in on all sides. His muscular, lean body protecting her, and moving against her. She wanted his breath heavy in her ears, whispering sweet nothings to linger in the space between them. 

“Oh Captain...my Captain.” She sighed, pulling him in for a torrid kiss that set both their bodies ablaze. Bodhi climbed over her, fumbling in his bedside table for a condom. He was quick to roll it on, slow to slide inside of her, and even slower to fuck her. She whimpered beneath him, her nails grazing over his chest, rapidly pressing him toward a point of no return. 

It was not long before she sighed, his callsign slipping from her mouth, which in turn sent Bodhi over the edge. And as they fell asleep, Bodhi whispered ‘think I might love you a little bit, honey’ without realizing it.

That was the last time Sam would ever be that drunk again. However it was not the last time she would see Bodhi. In fact, she would see him several more times. They would have ‘meaningless sex’ several more times. Sam kept telling him ‘can’t have feelings’ and ‘can’t keep doing this’ but she kept going back for more. Bodhi treated her all the same though. 

His lingering touches when they were together, his gentle presence beside her, made her feel protected. Even though the feelings weren’t reciprocated in the moment, Sam could maybe admit there was something there, between them. To Bodhi, it was all the same. Whether she loved him or not, he treated her the way a man should treat a woman. With respect. With reverence. And he showed her what she could have, if she would just let her guard down. If she would just let him in. If it had been another time, another place, maybe it could’ve worked. But all he hoped for was that in time, she would find the right man, and she could shake off her armor and let him in.

And then, Bodhi’s jet would have mechanical failure and he would go down somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. The funeral was quiet, some of his squadron and Samantha, Maverick, and her father. That was when she realized just how little Bodhi mattered to anyone. But he’d been important to Sam.

And Samantha would realize that she should’ve loved him. She should’ve given him more of herself. She should’ve stopped telling him she didn’t have feelings for him, because she had. She should’ve admitted to him and herself the feelings that she had, because they were more than just liking him. She had loved Bodhi, just too little and too late.

So when she sat at the Hard Deck that evening, and Jake Seresin made his intentions very clear right then and there, she decided to give him a chance. She gave him the chance that she didn’t give Bodhi. For the memory of Bodhi, for her Sunshine, she would love Jake Seresin in all the ways she wouldn’t let herself love Bodhi. It was what he would’ve wanted. If it wasn’t going to be him, Bodhi would’ve wanted her to find someone to love and to heal. In some ways, she thought maybe Bodhi had sent Jake to her. Maybe she saw just a little of Bodhi in Jake.

🛩⚓️🛩

Several months before the incident between Sam and Rooster...

“Delta One inbound. Missiles locked. Standing by for go.” Jake said through the comms. 

“Delta Two on your left. Weapons envelope. Missiles locked. Defer to Delta One.” Austin said, his gaze shooting toward Jake’s jet. 

Austin Arin, callsign ‘Pope’, had been Jake’s wingman for a while now and the two had a great bond. Jake, who was hesitant to trust anyone other than himself, trusted Austin implicitly. They’d been sent overseas, somewhere in the Pacific for a mission. A strike on a carrier connected to nefarious sources in the Middle East that was prohibiting supplies from being brought into the ports closest to where US bases resupplied from. 

It was going to be a dogfight. Jake knew that. Austin knew that. And it was as if Bradley didn’t. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw was flying as a third, behind Austin. It was the first time Rooster was flying a dual F-18. For Charlie, his backseater, this was the first time they’d flown together. It had been a last minute decision from the boat, having had two pilots come down with illnesses unrelated to each other. One pilot was headed home and the other was manageable on the boat, but there was no way he’d be flying this mission.

“Delta Three Weapons Locked. Defer to Delta One.” Rooster said and the boot acknowledged all three planes. 

“Delta you are a go for attack. Fire at will.” The Commander said and Jake punched it, heading toward the battle zone in the air. There were several enemy fighters. 

“Bandit on your nose Delta Two. Evade!” Jake said, successfully warning Austin, who dove out of the way. Rooster followed and Jake took out one bandit, Austin taking out the other. There was one more, but it seemed to skip in and out of radar. It came up behind them and Rooster evaded. Their goal was to destroy the carrier deck of the enemy boat so they couldn’t launch any more planes. 

As they got closer, more fighters were launched in quick succession. Jake, Austin, and Bradley called for back up and their commander sent another team out.

“Delta Three head to target we’ve got this.” Jake said, with Austin posting up beside him, their wing tips close. They glanced over at each other and saluted then dipped away from each other. Rooster flew toward the enemy carrier evading several bandits as he went. He fired a missile, blowing a huge hole in the deck of the carrier. It wasn’t enough though, because as soon as his second volley of missiles was launched, they catapulted what looked to be some of the last of their fighters. 

Austin was taking out planes left and right. Jake would slide in at the last second and distract them while  Austin dove down below them or above them and fired. The other team had arrived in time to help get rid of the majority of the bandits, but as Austin got out of Jake’s range, it was now on Rooster to help him. 

“All Deltas flow to carrier. Target is destroyed.” There was cheering that could be heard over the comms, and everyone complied. The spare team headed back first and successfully landed on the carrier one by one. Then Jake touched down and just as he was about to exit his jet, there was chatter over the radios.

“Delta Two defending! I need help! Delta Three where are you!” He heard Austin’s voice over the radio and his heart stopped. He saw flares and only saw one jet but as he looked closer, there was another jet behind Austin.

“On my way Delta Two, Still five miles out. Evade!” Bradley said and Jake’s heart sank.

“Delta Three where the fuck are you! Get here now!”

“Delta Three! Delta!” 

Static. 

Then silence.

Jake looked up in the distance just in time to see the explosion before anyone heard it. In a ball of fire and smoke, Austin ‘Pope’ Arin died for his country. Jake watched as Delta Four launched and took out the bandit, just as Rooster showed up. Both jets landed a few moments later and as soon as Bradley stepped down from the ladder, Jake was on him.

“WHERE THE FUCK WHERE YOU?” Jake yelled, pushing Bradley. He fell to the ground and got right back up, grabbing Jake’s flight suit and pushing him against the ladder.

“I was on my fucking way! We had an engine issue and I couldn’t push the jet!”

“THAT’S BULLSHIT ROOSTER. YOU FUCKIN’ KILLED MY WINGMAN CAUSE YOU JUST PERCHED ON THAT GODDAMN TRIGGER. YOU WERE LATE. YOU’RE ALWAYS FASHIONABLY LATE!” Jake’s rage could not be contained and he jumped toward Rooster, his hand connecting with the other man’s face hard enough to draw blood. Rooster drew back and got a few punches in before Jake had him on the ground again. He kicked Rooster in the ribs and then pulled him up by his collar and threw him against the nose of the nearest jet. Rooster wobbled as he stood, landing one more good punch to Jake’s gut, but it was Jake who landed the knockout blow. He hit Rooster square in the jaw and Roos saw stars and fell to the ground, blood dripping from his mouth and nose.

“I swear to fuckin’ god, Rooster, the court martial is worth it. You killed my best friend, you ignorant fuck. You’d better stay the fuck outta my way from now the fuck on.” Jake’s voice had evened out. It was almost calm as he wiped the blood from his own mouth. He rubbed his stomach and groaned as he headed toward medical. 

No one helped Rooster up immediately. Because they sort of knew Jake was right. Bradley had gotten there too late and left Austin open without help. Jake had every right to do what he did. And Rooster was the only one who thought otherwise.

Back home, Austin’s funeral was hard for Jake. He met Austin’s mother, giving her the folded flag. He punched his wings into his best friend’s casket. Jake was given a service medal. He didn’t want it though. He didn’t feel like he deserved it. 

🛩⚓️🛩

Samantha needed to talk to someone. She found herself driving to the cemetery. Her legs carried her down the rows to the small stone set in the ground, where there was no body buried. They’d never found him.

She knelt down and placed her fingers over the cold stone, tracing the words etched there.

“Capt. Bodhi ‘Sunshine’ Denson, 1976 - 2022, VFA-151 Vigilantes, Beloved Pilot”

Sam always wondered if Jake knew him. 

“Sunshine...Sunshiiine...” She sung softly, tears stinging her eyes. “I should’ve loved you better. But I know you’d be happy to see me with Jake. If I could ask one more thing of you...please protect him and bring him back to me...” 

A gentle breeze blew, caressing Sam’s cheek and she let her eyes flutter shut. She swore for a moment that the scent of Bodhi’s cologne, a musky, woody warmth, floating to her nostrils, as if his spirit accepted her request. The breeze rustled the leaves above and a few fell, one landing on top of Sam’s hand.

“Thank you for sending me Jake. I know it was you. It was your last act of service. Rest well knowing he’ll take care of me just like you would’ve. I loved you, Bodhi. I always will.” She kissed her fingertips and then touched the stone. She took the leaf that had fallen and placed it on the dashboard when she got into her father’s truck. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, and glanced back at the dogs sleeping in the back seat. Only Rocco stirred, giving a small whine and a wag of his tail. 

She then drove back to Jake’s, laid back in his bed, and waited for a miracle.

[roseadleyn]

Lidia‘s SA was handled even worse. Sjm would have lidia fuck Ruhn in mind at the same time she’s getting SA‘ed by her ex. Lidia never received proper time to heal from that sh*t. The moment Ruhnlidia made up in the third book they had mf sex.

Nesta had sex with Cassian right after getting SA‘ed by that weirdo kelpie from the lake, and that other time when Lanthys made her see that vision in which he SA‘ed her too. The SA from Tomas was also never properly acknowledged.

At least Gwyn had 2 years to recover. Most SA survivors in her books don’t receive much time to at least process it all before fucking. You’re telling me Rhys is all cool with going down on Feyre after 50 years of SA? Feyre can easily forget the sh*t Rhys did to her utm? Great.

If Gwynriel is canon, Sjm will most definitely fuck up her trauma like she always does.

Sjm: „Oh you were touched against your will?“

Sjm: „Here have a cock. That will heal you quickly!“

Worst of all is that the sex is always so… rough? Specifically for Nesta. At least worship her and make her feel safe instead of dicking her down like she‘s a good one night stand. Poor girl.

ya i'm just realizing that gwyn is at least not as bad as nesta or feyre or lucien or rhys or lidia. i haven't read any other sjm books but i know abt lidia and that's insane 😭 it's like she doesn't know how to write intimacy. it's like she thinks emotional connections only exist in sex.

it was insane how feyre only rescued lucien from being raped because she remembered her darling rhys and not because lucien is her first friend and also it's just the MORAL THING TO DO

( also why is it that everytime a couple fights in sjm's novels, they always have sex when they make up? i get that angry makeup sex is soo hot etc but like can no one have a conversation? can she not show how sometimes issues are talked out not fucked out? )

do NOT i hate how she wrote nesta i hate everything abt it. nesta was assaulted by tomas and when he found out he restrained her against the wall??? in the same manner tomas would have?? also i'm never going to forget how cassian tugged at the skirts of her dress and asked her 'what're you hiding under all this anyways?' without her consent, during a time in which they didn't like each other, and he was there on diplomatic purposes.

and i just checked but literally RIGHT after she was sa-ed by the kelpie, cassian not only had sex with her but he left her without any aftercare. bed still warm. rough sex as if she's a one night stand. she's sexually assaulted and then left wondering if cassian was 'punishing' her by leaving immediately. ugh i despise him i hate him.

and rhys? he literally has one (1) traumatic flashback to his trauma and whoop that's it yall we're done. and feyre wearing the same clothes she was wearing when she got assaulted for rhys, even though rhys was the one who assaulted her.

it pushes an extremely unhealthy narrative. very young girls (literally 15-16 year olds) read these books and they'll think these toxic, unrealistic, unhealthy dynamics are normal. it's so concerning and i hate the entire genre of dark romance for it but that's a story for some other angry rant

i hate the rough jackhammering sex. i fear she's gonna do the same shit with elain and lucien (😭). nesta deserves to be worshipped and praised and then given plenty of aftercare free my girlll

( for acotar stans who for some reason go into anti tags: do not interact u will be BLOCKED !!! okay bye 💋 )

[romance-rambles]

modern* cael | a guide to handling your girlfriend's amnesia

Whilst attempting to recover your memories of your father, you end up losing your memories of the past few years instead—including the part about how you're on your way to be the future Mrs. Anselm.

8.1k, mostly fluff + slight angst + some suggestive stuff, flashbacks + amnesia, takes place sometime after hot springs event, reader is mc, series: none

"WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I lost my memories?"

A question, innocently asked. Cael thinks nothing of it at the time—thinks nothing at all, actually. The sky is blue, the grass is green, you love him, and he loves you. Therefore, there's only room for one answer, the same one as yours.

"I'd help you get them back," he says. Gently. Patiently. Though you seem to have come to terms with the fact that the amnesiac Cael you saw was your own doing, the experience seems to have to left you clingier than normal. "I'd tell you about all that we've seen and done together. The good, the bad, and—"

Even in the darkened room, he thinks he can see you grin.

"And the weird?"

He chuckles softly. "It sounds like you have ideas."

You start exactly where he expects you to, with the man who was once Darya's lover. An orb-shaped third wheel that gave relationship advice—and pestered Cael every chance he got. When it came time to part ways with him, you were rather sad.

As if, to you, Darya's lover was no different from a friend you made on one of your own journeys.

Next on the list is the time they both spent in White City, as beautiful as it was when it stood tall and proud. But rather than the cleansing ritual that demanded all travelers leave their negative emotions behind, or Darya coming to destroy the city, having lost her mind after the loss of her lover, what sticks out to you is—

"And you were so young! And this tall." you exclaim, gesturing in the dark. A dreamy sign gives way to a fit of giggles. "You were so cute."

Trying to fight back a smile in your presence is a fool's endeavor. It spread across his face anyways, warm and fond—and though you likely can't see it either, he feels as if you simply know. You snuggle closer and hum in satisfaction.

"I see," he says, amusement dripping from every syllable. "So, in your eyes, I'm no longer cute."

A muffled protest escapes your lips, though undoubtedly half-hearted. From your voice alone, he can tell you're pouting, happily unhappy—an oxymoron, if he's ever heard one—that he's derailed the conversation.

"You're always cute," you murmur, and he takes his victory with a faint laugh.

MEMORIES ARE A FICKLE THING, fragile yet everlasting—it takes great skill to painstakingly manipulate every element of someone's past to offer them a coherent illusion. To this day, Cael isn't sure how his senior managed to wipe your memory so thoroughly that no traces of your father remain. Even he, arguably an equally skilled prefect, cannot manage such a feat.

And yet, here he is, against his better judgement, fiddling around with your memories in hopes that he can undo Prefect Crimson's finest work.

Fitting for such an endeavor, a pile of notebooks containing information he compiled on the subject sits nearby, on the floor beside your bed. The pillow cushioning his knees, though unnecessary, deflates as he stands up, wiping the sweat of his forehead awkwardly. You insisted upon it, though he's half-certain you were teasing him for his age, and he found he couldn't deny you in that moment.

The thing is, one hand rests on top of your forehead, though the ritual has long since concluded. The other hand holds onto yours, having never given up your warmth for even a moment. Even when he felt his ponytail loosen, he merely gritted his teeth and soldiered on.

As he watches your peaceful form, he can't help but sigh.

When you brought up the possibility of re-tampering with your memories, he'd been hesitant. You did not remember the times your heart could not forget Godheim, but he did. And from then on, he simply had no reason to mess around like that.

All this to say, he, Prefect Silver of the Thousand Empires, is afraid of messing up—not for the first time, in these past few months.

"Cael…?" A groan—and the faint squeeze of your hand—draws him out of his thoughts. You blink blearily, your free hand coming to rest on your forehead as well. "What…"

"That's right," he says, squeezing your hand back, "How are you feeling?"

"My head…" You complain. "Where exactly did I fall from?"

Almost immediately, you attempt to sit up. Cael presses down on your forehead gently, quietly reminding you to rest for a bit longer. You comply, without complaint, though a frown tugs faintly at your lips. In his heart, he harbors no doubt on whether you consider him fussy; still, he accepts your silence gratefully.

"Cael—" After a few minutes have passed, you call his name again. "—where are we? This doesn't look like my room. It doesn't seem like a hotel either."

And with that, his heart drops.

If you aren't pulling his leg, it means something definitely went wrong. The fact that you remember him at all is a good sign. That narrows the amount of explaining he'd need to do by a lot. There's also the simple fact that he's not sure he'd be able to keep a straight face if you forgot him.

"What's the last thing you remember doing?" he asks.

You frown, watching him as though he's the one who's lost his mind. "We were about to go to France for the summer. For Van Gogh, remember?"

"What year do you think it is?"

"2022…?" This time, you actually do sit up, your hand removing his own before he can make a move. It goes back to where it sat on your forehead, your grimace saying much about the state of you. "Did something happen? You look…pale."

Cael bites back a grimace.

"I'm fine," he says reassuringly. "I simply…wasn't expecting that answer."

Raising one eyebrow at him, you joke, "How hard did I hit my head? What is it, 2035?"

Somehow, it manages to pull a weak smile out of him.

YOU'RE STILL A GIGGLY MESS, by the time you let him go.

And if someone is to assume that phrase implies that his limbs are no longer bound, they would be incorrect. Though his hands are now free, you waste no time in throwing your legs over and in between his own. He thinks he should snap a photo of this moment, for the next time you complain that Beanie feels more like his cat than yours.

Like owner, like pet seems to ring true in this situation.

"You know—" The words come out with a gasp, a brief prelude of silence before you devolve into another fit of giggles. You're laying on your back, and the start of your next sentence is marked by the sound of your hand hitting the mattress. "—I think the first thing you should do is tell me that we're dating."

He quirks an eyebrow, well aware of your motives. And though you can't see his expression, he knows you've read him correctly when you shift your head onto his shoulder. Your hair is soft, and tonight, it smells the same as his own.

These days, he can understand your shy mood during hotel stays when the two of them would use the amenities offered, instead of bringing their own.

"After all, I used to write Mrs. Anselm on the margins of my notebooks."

Cael snorts, shifting his arm to accommodate the way your hands insist on wrapping around it. "And now you scribble it every else."

And he does mean that.

He's seen his last name traced on napkins at a restaurant and on the base panel of your laptop. On the fabric of your tights underneath a table—and on the smooth pages of your textbook during class. Your phone case is not immune to the treatment either, and by now, half the student body must be convinced you're in a tragic love that will never be reciprocated.

"Well, it's not like we can let anyone know!"

The vision of you, with your lips pulled into an angry pout and your cheeks puffed, comes to him easily. It becomes the catalyst for his laughter, soft and gentle—enough to disarm you completely. Yet, by then, you've already pinched the inside of his arm.

You rub at the spot gently, as though a pinch from you has ever left him wounded.

"In a few years," Cael promises.

CONTRARY TO YOUR WISHES, CAEL does not start with the part about their relationship.

Understandably, you have questions, and many of them center around your college of choice. From the day you learned of his workplace, St. Shelter Academia became the school of your dreams—you were hardly subtle about it, and perhaps you never intended to be.

For the you facing him now, the thought of them going their separate ways may as well have be a nightmare. One carefully concocted to attack your worst fears, head on. So, Cael softens his tongue the best he can, hovering somewhere between the man he is now and the man he once used to be, and you look at him as if he hung the stars and the moon.

And in the middle of his detailed explanations, which he suspects you've half-tuned out, you notice something tucked away in your desk drawer.

You've been fluttering around the room in a daze for a while now, thoroughly enraptured by the design sense of your future self. It was only going to be a matter of time before the topic began shifting towards Godheim—and all that entails.

"What is this?" you ask, flipping through the pages of volume three of your manga. The curiosity in your eyes dims the more you make sense of its pages, until you look upon your creation with dread. "Is this…my manga? Why is the heroine with the emperor?"

Cael is sitting on the edge of your bed, his legs crossed neatly at the ankles. He lets you run through your thoughts out loud. Some of them are borderline conspiracy theories, and others make his smile falter, though not enough for you to be able to see his grimace.

His favorite one, in a dark humor sort of way, is mind control.

You—the one from 2025—would find it quite funny.

"No to all of those," he cuts you off.

You've been pacing around the room, with your hands in your dark hair. They form little pigtails, the kind you always complain you can never get right. He worries for your hair. For you, and the headache you'll have later.

"Quite a bit has happened in between," Cael says calmly, as the memories of that time flood his mind. What he remembers most is that meteor shower, the moment when the cracks seemed to begin repairing themselves. "There was a period of time when you and I did not speak to each other."

You bite your lip.

"But we're fine now." There is no question in your words. Only a statement, spoken in a distressed tone. And the answer you seek is a resounding yes. "Or you wouldn't be here."

As if sensing his owner's emotions from downstairs—or perhaps Beanie is simply tired of being excluding—a meow sounds from outside the door. A question, and the sound of his paws scratching at the door.

Let me in, a voice that sounds remarkably like your rendition of the cat's human voice yowls in his ear.

"Is that…a cat?" you ask. Your earlier worries seem to have disappeared, replaced with pure, unadulterated excitement at having a furball of your own. "Do I get a cat?"

With an exasperated sigh, he opens the door for Beanie.

The spoiled cat walks in, rubbing his chubby cheeks against Cael's leg. To him, the scene feels not unlike the first time you met Beanie. You crouch down beside the cat, eyes sparkling in delight. This time, Beanie does not spurn you.

Instead, he merely looks at you curiously, as if he can sense that you aren't quite the same human who feeds him every day.

"Hi kitty," you whisper, your hand hovering in the air, above his fur.

"This is Beanie." As he introduces to you the second love of your life, Cael mimics your sitting position and smooths over Beanie's fur. "He's yours."

FOR A FEW MINUTES, THERE is silence.

Then, the discussion begins once more. The subject, this time, is Beanie. A long-running joke in their relationship is that Cael happens to be the favorite parent—and you are simply someone who feeds Beanie every so often, with startling regularity.

Every time you bring it up, he becomes more and more convinced that it's perhaps rooted in an actual insecurity. Like now.

"Do you think Beanie will still like me?" you ask, a yawn interrupting you halfway.

Cael suppresses his instinct to mother you in favor of answering your question. Telling you to go to sleep has never actually worked—he's not so much of an idiot that he can't figure out why you're always tired in the morning, even when he's not staying over.

"I don't see why not," he says sincerely, remembering how despondent the little guy was when you were in the infirmary for three days—all thanks to Cael's most obnoxious colleague. "He adores you."

"Mhm, I know." Your voice is soft. He thinks you might be thinking of the same thing, or the other times you returned from your long journeys. "I won't make him worry."

The silence that follows tricks Cael into thinking this is the end, once again.

But you still have more to say, and he wonders how much of your own worries have yet to be revealed. You must've worried about how to break the news to Beanie—that perhaps Cael wouldn't be in his life in the same way as before.

"I won't make you worry either," you promise.

His gaze softens. "I know."

WHEN YOU REPEAT HIS WORDS back at him, it becomes easy to see why you're skeptical of the truths he's revealed to you. The first time around, when he informed you of your mother, you had already witnessed the depths of his cruelty and learned of his mission. Your travels through Godheim—through its past and its future—also lent him much credibility.

Right now, Godheim is simply the nameless otherworld of your manga. And its trio of protagonists—the maiden, the emperor, and the knight—exist only in its pages, as a mimicry of the love triangle that actually existed.

Or, from the perspective of someone stuck in 2022, the love triangle that will one day exist.

"So, you're actually an alien," you repeat slowly, as though it may make him reconsider his words. It's the same tone he used on you when you mixed up the laundry detergent with dish soap. "I'm also an alien, but only half. And I tried to stop you from destroying the world?"

Unfortunately, as he happens to be very correct, it does nothing to hinder him. Rather, he feels a childish part of him that once went dormant with the fall of White City quietly urge him to be, in your words, a smartass.

"A world," he corrects.

You shoot him a withering glare before proceeding to match—and perhaps exceed—his energy. "Right. A world. The world of my manga, which I wrote."

Cael nods thoughtfully, ignoring the way your glare transforms into the most incredulous of expressions. "That sounds right."

"I'm starting to wonder if you're the one who hit your head."

"LET'S SAY THIS DOES HAPPEN, and you do lose your memories," Cael says, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Would you believe me if I told you about what transpired in Godheim?"

You've wrapped yourself around half of him like an octopus, in such a way that the only comfortable place to put his other arm is over you. The digital alarm clock to his right reads 1:00 AM, but the only symptom that can be attributed to your sleepiness alone is your vaguely nonsensical declarations.

Like the one you shoot off in response to his question, one paired with a snort and, he imagines, a roll of your eyes.

"If I can land you as my boyfriend—" Taking a moment to nuzzle into his shoulder, you pause. "—aliens kind of seem…more realistic, don't they?"

Raising an eyebrow, he parrots your words back at you, in a tone that makes it plainly obvious what he thinks. "Aliens. More realistic?"

To the average human living on Earth, aliens are fantastical creatures of all shapes and sizes—some with, and some without, the intelligence they themselves possess. The most common are colored green, with a penchant for shapeshifting. And if not, then it means they usually do not possess a humanoid body.

Cael, as someone who might be considered an alien himself, would argue that you getting a boyfriend is a far more realistic option for a girl who knows nothing of travelers and prefects—and the empire they belong to.

"Trust me on this one," you say, your voice half-muffled. "It might come in handy one day."

He thinks of his own devastation in Godheim, when the timeline would renew, leaving only the memories of a past that no longer existed in his mind alone. That must be the closest to what you felt when the Cael of your own creation could not recognize you. If he never witnesses such a thing again, it might still be soon.

"I hope not," he mutters.

You laugh. "Me too."

There's a joke at his expense waiting to be made. And you're hardly one to disappoint. Your voice pitches higher, taking on a distinct quality that can only be described as baby talk. You let go of his arm and lay your head down on your hand, propped up by your elbow.

"Can you imagine forgetting about the cutest—"

The positions flip.

As he pins you in place, you giggle, unaffected by the implied threat. It takes kissing you—on the lips, on the cheeks, on your eyelids, and anywhere else he can find—to get you to abandon your train of thought, but even so, his hard-won peace is only temporary.

The moment you pause to catch your breath, undoubtedly smiling up at him with a mischievous grin, is the moment it goes away.

"Sometimes, he even gets jealous of himself."

AFTER FORCEFULLY CHECKING FOR ANY bumps on his head and finding nothing at all, you observe him suspiciously. Beanie has already left by now, having realized that there's nothing of importance for him in the room. It's just the two of them, and whatever dialogue that must be going on in your mind right about now.

At some point, the two of them had swapped positions. You sit on the edge of the bed now, and Cael stands nearby, one hand in his pocket. Every so often, you remember to kick your legs in the air aimlessly.

In this way. an eternity seems to pass.

Cael waits for your verdict with all the eagerness of a man heading out to the battlefield, one wrong move away from losing a limb. He's taken back to the months when the two of them were only cordial, hardly as close as they once were—and definitely not as close as they are now.

Finally, you seem to reach a consensus with yourself.

"What else?" you ask, with a sigh. "I've never known you to pull my leg. Any other riveting stories you have for me?"

By his calculations, the next time that he can fix his mistakes will be a week from now. The cooldown has nothing to do with any energy exerted on his part, but rather, what your body is able to handle. In theory, the procedure itself should be a quick fix.

And, well, he did promise you he would tell you about your relationship status, if you ever happened to forget.

"You have a boyfriend," he says carefully, keeping a close eye on your expression.

"Oh," you say, sounding disappointed. He wonders about your reaction to his next words—if you'll perk up like a dying flower exposed to magic. "That's nice. I'm sure he's nice."

"It's me," he adds.

The current expression on your face speaks much about the state of your mind. You blink rather forcefully, and your tense smile seems to be permanently frozen onto your lips.

"…It's not nice to pull someone's leg like that, Cael," you chide him. "Aliens, I can believe—"

He quirks an eyebrow. "You can believe aliens?"

"But this is—" Sputtering, you begin to gesture wildly in the air. "Is this April Fools' day?"

Your words from before echo in his head. Aliens kind of seem…more realistic, don't they? To think you would be right about that—Cael watches the current you comb through your hair and wonders, not for the first time, about your priorities.

By now, you've started searching for your phone. It occurs to him that perhaps you weren't joking when you asked him that. But, by the time he opens his mouth, you've already learned that it's actually March right now.

"It is not," you mutter, sounding shocked. You don't even seem to have the strength to point any more. "You—we—we're dating."

"That's right," he says gently. "If you're curious, I—"

"Prove it." You cut him off, all of a sudden, your words carrying an intensity he doesn't often see. "If we're dating…then you've probably kissed me before, right?"

"HAVE I EVER TOLD YOU that you're a good kisser?"

"A few times," Cael says, sounding faintly amused. "What brought this on?"

You have your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. From where his hand rests just below your shoulder, he can feel your chest rise and fall. Every so often, a small exhale escapes your lips, when you remember that holding most of your breath in is bad for you.

You shrug. "I was just thinking, if lost my memories, I wouldn't know you were a good kisser."

He waits for you to continue your train of thought. But you offer him nothing more in regards to your stray thought—instead, you're oddly silent. Still, he knows better than to assume the discussion's end.

Burying his face in the nape of your neck, he waits.

"I think—" Your hands assume a more comfortable position on his back. "—that might be the first thing I check."

Cael raises an eyebrow. "And nothing else?"

It's said that a person's personality is often tied to their memories. So, upon losing their memories, it's entirely possible for them to act like a different person. Assuming the premise of the situation you've put forth involves you entirely forgetting him, he can't help but doubt the validity of your claim.

If you retain your memories of him, however—that may be a different story.

"You can be the responsible one." As you giggle, your hands curl into fists. And as you begin to count, you put down a finger for each number. "One kiss. Maybe two."

"I can't imagine that an amnesiac faced with a man claiming to be her boyfriend would be so quick to jump into my arms," he says dryly.

You hum one of the love songs that have been playing everywhere recently. It's your politest way of telling him that he may be correct, but he is also very wrong. On his back, your thumbs and index fingers form the shape of a heart, after a few clumsy attempts at drawing one instead.

"Why not?" you say finally. "As I recall, someone else we know seemed to really like me."

Cael can point out that it was his adult self, with his adult self's feelings, all he wants. The truth is, he isn't really sure if that's the case. It's evident that there's much he doesn't know about his life before the Empire—and then there's the complicated matter of you traveling back in time to meet him.

If the day comes where it turns out his younger self was somehow involved with you, Cael doesn't think he'd be surprised.

"I think I'd really like you too," you murmur. "If there's such a thing as soulmates, I'd like to think that's us."

LUNCHTIME SEES HIM IN THE kitchen, his hair still tied up and an apron tied at his waist.

Yesterday, you said you would want something unhealthy and easy to cook. Something greasy and fried, so thoroughly awful for your body that it would help you cope with what you'd lost. So, he bought a frozen pack of fried chicken and french fries—and he decided against getting buns, just to keep things simple.

He's in the middle of frying the first batch of chicken—having gotten himself out of the previous situation by half-jokingly instituting a one kiss per day limit—when you poke your head into the kitchen.

"So…boyfriend." You step out from behind the wall. "Can I help in the kitchen?"

The gleam in your eyes only promises disaster upon him. It's almost as if you never lost your memory at all. Muscle memory prompts you to tie your hands behind your back and lean forward, the very picture of innocence—in a few minutes, he suspects your arms will be wrapped around his waist.

Your definition of helping tends to be loose at times, but you've spent enough time in the kitchen that he feels comfortable assigning you to the chopping station.

It is then he remembers once more that this simple moment of domesticity is all too new to you.

There's a smile on your face, giddy and uncontrollable. Ordinarily, you'd feign a pout. Insist there are other ways you can help—ones that involve holding his hand, leaving you to grab whatever is he can't at the moment.

His lips thin into a straight line, a compromise to the frown that wants to come out instead.

You don't notice. You're already reaching for your designated apron. Once you've tied it around yourself, you flash him a bright grin, and he can hear your thoughts—the very same words you said the first time you wore it.

We match.

A week, he reminds himself.

Soon, lunch is fried. The unhealthy aroma of frozen fast food wafts through the first floor of your house, and he suspects the same is true for half of the second floor. He did make sure to close all the doors in the house so the rooms, he figures, should be fine.

And as he's setting up the table, you seat yourself in your chair and stare. More of that muscle memory, Cael thinks. He's used to being stared at—you've never hidden your thoughts on his beauty.

And yet, somehow, a simple compliment leaves him at a loss.

"Have I ever told you," you whisper, as he walks away to grab something, "that you look beautiful with your hair tied up?"

There's a lump in his throat. It stops him from offering you a snarky Often. So, he smiles faintly at you and hopes you don't notice what it's meant to hide.

EVEN WITH GREASY FAST FOOD in front of you, you can't seem to take your eyes off of him.

There's something almost reverent about the way you watch him. It takes him back to a time when you knew nothing—and believed wholeheartedly that Cael would always be there, no matter what.

Enough time has passed that the knowledge of how the next week will play out has begun to settle in. Part of it still feels like a dream, as though he might wake up and you'll chase the faint ache in his heart away with a steady stream of kisses.

When he vowed to be his most authentic self in front of you, you had already seen the worst he had to offer. The only place to climb, at that point, was to climb up.

In the present, Cael isn't sure how much of the world-destroying alien part of his explanation has stuck.

"Cael," you speak up suddenly, setting down a half-eaten piece of chicken down on your plate. "Are you really my boyfriend?"

Upon finishing up the piece in his own hand, he asks faintly, "Is it that hard to believe?"

You snort. "You've seen yourself in the mirror, right?"

At the end of the day, you are his girlfriend. It isn't so much of a surprise that the you in front of him and the you locked away in your memories are so painfully alike. Even down to the way your gaze changes, a hint of incredulousness swimming in your purple eyes.

He regrets not asking what he should do if you remember him—just not as your boyfriend. It should be fine to treat you normally, right? You've only lost your memories, and nothing else.

And in the event that he can't get your memories back, it might be a good idea to start getting used to this.

"You're beautiful," Cael offers, his longing evident in every syllable of his confession.

Scarlet blooms across your cheeks. Suddenly, you're a bit shy, tucking a strand of dark hair behind your ear. For a moment, normalcy seems to return to the household.

Coughing politely, you mumble, "I wasn't fishing for a compliment."

The thanks that follows your words comes out as a whisper, almost imperceptible, if not for the fact that he knows you so well. He feels himself relax a bit as he bite into a singular fry.

He's not giving you enough credit—you've already proven you're willing to love his flawed self. More than that, you seem to take an immense amount of glee in finding out that he is, in fact, not perfect. Even now.

And then, you open your mouth, and it's enough to startle him into forgetting what it is he was worried about.

"Does that mean I get an extra kiss?" you ask eagerly, your earlier shyness having vanished in only a moment.

Almost automatically, in a bland tone, he answers, "Ask me tomorrow."

"Okay!" you reply cheerfully, as if you didn't believe, for a moment, he'd say yes.

WHEN NIGHT FALLS UPON HARP island, and you begin to yawn, it becomes increasingly obvious that they must discuss living arrangements. And the opportunity comes when you rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.

For most of the day, he helps you familiarize yourself with your current friends and acquaintances—and lets you mourn the loss of your old ones. And then, there's the matter of your tstudies. You deliberately chose a weekend after your midterms, when your load would be the lightest.

But you need to know where your classes and what they're for, with only a day in between today and Monday.

Needless to say, you're incredibly spent.

If the expression on your face is not enough to sell it, the way you cling to him does.

Affection has always come easy to you. And when your walls are at their lowest, it comes pouring out of you, aimed at the nearest you hold any ounce of affection for. When Cael first properly entered your life, he deduced that allowing such a thing would increase your trust for him.

So, for you, his only boundary was meant to ward off any romantic pursuit.

It worked spectacularly—that is to say, not at all.

"Cael…" you mumble. "I'm sleepy. Can we stop?"

The clock reads 11 PM. Though you act differently, he's aware that this is perhaps the earliest you'll be sleeping in a while. Holding back a sigh, he turns off his laptop, then turns to you.

"You've had a long day," he says, finally, his tone gentle.

"Mhm, can you carry me up? And…" You yawn, cutting off his exasperated response. "Can you stay?"

Cael wonders what might be going through your mind right now. Without his deduction abilities, he feels oddly vulnerable—a notion he hasn't related to in months.

"Alright. It might be good for you to have someone familiar with you tonight," he says, painfully aware of how much he misses his own version of you. "I'll sleep on the couch. So, come get me if you need anything."

"No…" The noise you make vaguely resembles a whine. You wrap your arms around his neck, hands grasping at the fabric of his collar. "Stay. A little longer…"

He can only smile weakly. "Just for a little bit."

"Mhm…I'm not gonna—" A yawn cuts off your words. "Don't wanna wake up."

In the end, Cael must concede to you and your vice grip.

When he sets you on the bed, you cling to his shirt and refuse to let go. You've done this before a few times, mostly after you began dating him—and he, a Prefect of the Thousand Empires who could easily remove himself from your grasp, has never had the heart to escape.

In the week that follows, all his nights happen to follow a similar pattern.

HERE ARE THE FACTS: CAEL goes to sleep with one girlfriend and one cat. He wakes up with one of them laying on top of him. Given their distinctly human-shaped form, it is definitely not the cat. In addition, he locked Beanie out, in case it could be overwhelming to wake up to that.

Therefore, Cael's girlfriend is, for some reason, laying on top of him, their legs tangled together and her intense gaze boring holes into him.

"Good morning." You've stacked your hands on top of each other—and on top of him—which is the base upon which you rest your chin. "…boyfriend."

Bleary violet eyes blink up at the woman trapping their owner in place. Cael's arms, however, are the only part of him that can freely move. And move they do, of their own volition, gingerly wrapping around your waist as they do every morning.

"Good morning," he croaks out, vaguely aware of the troubles awaiting him for the next week. Liore will almost certainly know that something is wrong with you, as will the paragons. That, however, is for future him to worry about. "Go back to sleep."

You ignore him, and the very clear message his closed eyes send. Poking his cheek, you tell him, "Let's go on a date."

Cael cracks one eye open. "Right now?"

"I have to get used to things at St. Shelter, don't I?" Your eyes are sparkling. They're beautiful, like amethysts in the sun. You're beautiful. He wants to sleep. "You're the only one who can help."

He has to be responsible.

With a sigh, he opens his eyes. "I'll make breakfast. Give me a minute."

The world immediately goes dark. Cael is, of course, aware of the dangers of leaving you unattended when you're brimming with energy. Tiredly, he drops a kiss on your forehead and tightens his grasp on you.

Not another word escapes you for the next hour.

THE CUP OF COFFEE IN HIS hand is still warm, by the time the two of them find a bench to settle down on. To call the whole experience a date, in Cael's opinion, is pushing it—interrogation is, perhaps, the better word for it.

For example, on the way to the park, you asked him about how he slept in today.

In your memories, he wakes up as the sun rises, and he's at your house before you even wake up. You once told him that you sometimes pretended he stayed the night. That if you came down at 3 AM, you would find him snoozing on the couch.

You never did, because he never stayed.

In some ways, at that time, you were a nine-to-five and he wasn't keen on working overtime. And when it did become appealing, he justified his distance with the impending goodbye. Wendy would soon no longer need Peter Pan.

Another thing you seemed to be curious about was his suddenly snarky personality. He was still the same gentle Cael you remembered, but different. Even now, as Cael analyzes your words, it seems clear you didn't mean different in a bad way.

Just different.

"So, what else do we usually do on a date?" Although your coffee is already on the cooler side, you still blow air into the cup. "Lunch?"

"Sometimes," he says. "Maybe a movie that's playing right now."

You hum. He wonders if you're remembering the time you tried to scare him by taking him—or, more accurately, begging him to take you—to a horror movie. What happened instead was that Cael had to check the backyard for any serial killers and groggily comfort you at 4 AM via the phone after you woke up from a nightmare.

"That movie would never have scared you, huh?" you ask.

He grimaces, thinking of all the inaccuracies he could've pointed out back then. "I've seen much worse."

At this point, the only horror story he can't tolerate is the thought of losing you. Not through a break up, or even in this way, with you having lost your memories, but through death—something so permanent he would have to take over the Empire to bring you back.

He thinks you—the 2025 you—have caught on, especially after the fiasco that was Spirit World.

You bob your head up and down rather seriously.

Birds are beginning to gather near their bench, likely recognizing you from all the times you've fed them before. Before leaving the house, Cael made sure to grab some breadcrumbs for your bird friends, knowing how you tend to be. Even before coming to Harp Island, this was a habit of yours.

Having taken a sip of his coffee, he's about to start digging through his bag when you ask a different question. Predictably, one that he chokes at, already anticipating how you might tease him.

"Am I the only girlfriend you've ever had?"

BARRING A FEW INCIDENTS, MOST of the week goes by quietly.

The threat of being possibly exposed leaves you hesitant to leave the house more than strictly necessary. So, although Cael went through the specifics of an average week in your life, you make use of approximately a quarter of that information.

You pass half the time by going through your stuff. The other half is devoted to pestering him for dates, usually in remote places, where the chances of running into someone are nil.

You seem to really like Greece.

You tell him it'd be nice to have the time to hunt down a flight and sit tight for hours—and there's a wistful tone to your words when he allows himself to scrunch his nose. It makes you laugh too.

And, three days before the deadline, Cael is in his office, preparing a few things for his next lecture, when a familiar ring tone cuts through the silence. Right now, you should be on your way back from your last class of the day.

The contents of your call could be anything from being "kidnapped" by Lars to actually being in trouble to having no explicit purpose at all.

"Hello?" he answers, glancing distractedly at the email from his TA about a question from one of the students. "Is something—"

"You're Emerald?" a familiar voice half-shrieks in his ear. "The award-winning artist Emerald? My favorite artist ever, Emerald?"

As usual, he lets you run through your thoughts out loud. Your chatter serves as the backdrop to his prep work. He catches the words idol, boyfriend, and dream crop up a few times. It's only when you drop Liore's name that he pieces together what might've transpired.

The local art gallery is hosting an event where they'll be showing off some of his newer works, post-hiatus. It isn't for another month, but the tickets for it were given to him in advance—a fact that you mentioned to the older woman when she offered to buy you the tickets.

You did, of course, exclude the part about it being a date.

"It slipped my mind," he responds apologetically. "I'm sorry."

And it was, in fact, a genuine mistake on his part. Given that his identity as an artist rarely cropped up in his day to day life—unlike, say, the fact that he was a Traveler—he hadn't seen the need to bring it up.

You're silent for a few minutes.

"I'll forgive you," you finally respond. "But only if you give me another kiss."

"You know I made that up, right?" he asks, unable to contain his amusement. Cael pulls his phone away from his ear. "You don't have to barter for a kiss."

Your silence soon turns into sputtering.

That's the only response he gets out of you for the next five minutes.

SOON, THE PROMISED DAY COMES, bringing with it a light drizzle.

You settle down on the bed, eyes closed, with all the bravery of a soldier going to war. Your only request is a kiss—and whatever thoughts are swirling in your head, you don't say. And as for holding his hand, you don't ask; your fingers simply grasp his hand tightly, like they had week ago.

The next time you open your eyes, Cael gets a sense of deja vu.

"Cael…?" You blink blearily, your free hand coming to rest on your forehead—where, once again, his own hand sits. "What…"

Squeezing your other hand tightly, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

"My head…" You complain, attempting to sit up. Once more, he gently forces you back down. "Where exactly did I fall from?"

As you grumble about being able to sit up and that you're absolutely fine, Cael breathes a sigh of relief. At the very least, you still remember him. And given how freely you can complain about him, he suspects that you might've recovered all of your memories back.

"What year do you think it is?" he inquires carefully.

You look at him like he's an idiot. Cael doesn't budge on requiring an answer. Instead, he squeezes your hand encouragingly, the expression on his face quietly asking you to humor him. A long-suffering sigh escapes your lips—and that's when any doubts about your memories wither and die.

"It's 2025. We were—" As a realization dawns on you, the blandness in your tone transforms into disappointment. "It didn't work."

"What do you remember about the last week?"

The expression on your face implies much about your thoughts at the moment. You open your mouth, undoubtedly prepared to give him the wrong answer, and then you seem to realize something.

Eyeing him warily, you ask, "What happened last week?"

It's as good a confirmation as any that you don't remember losing a few years worth of your memories. Cael settles down on the edge of the bed and recalls how clingy you were in that time.

As it so happens, you often tend to be all bark and not bite—until you're so used to the action in question that it becomes instinct.

"Well…" he starts, a faintly amused smile on his face. "For starters, you really liked calling me your boyfriend—"

THE NIGHT BEFORE IT ALL ends, you ask him a question—one he suspects you've been holding onto for a while.

The two of you are lying in bed, separated by the eternal third wheel that is Beanie. And if ever there's a reason to stop sneaking him treats, it would be for this. But, for a destroyer of worlds, as you like to point out often, Cael is surprisingly soft-hearted.

One distraught mewl, and it's game over for him.

On the bright side, you no longer have the twin bed he prepared for you, back when you first moved into this house. After the first couple of sleepovers, it became evident you needed a bigger bed, especially if Beanie would keep crawling into bed halfway through the night.

So, you went out and bought yourself a bed—and when Cael came over the next time, the layout of your room had changed drastically.

Never let it be said that feeling shy about something has ever prevented you from doing said thing.

"Cael…" you whisper, and rustling sounds ensue. In your attempt to shift onto your side, he hears your elbow hit the backboard. "What if—what if my memories don't come back?"

His gaze is fixed onto a point in the never-ending darkness, where the ceiling should be. In the silence, he can clearly hear your soft exhales—small reminders that you seem to have forgotten how to breathe. He shifts onto his side, and sure enough, his hand finds yours, curled loosely into a face on top of your pillow.

"Then you'll still be my girlfriend," he says carefully, then pauses. "Just—with a few holes in her memory."

Cael has pondered that same question as well. Many times, in fact; whether over a cup of coffee or in the middle of a lecture, the reminder that you've lost your memories has a tendency to creep up on him.

How will they explain it to everyone, knowing that you haven't left Harp Island in quite a while?

What would be the easiest way to help you relearn the basics of your life, knowing that you nearly fell asleep the first time?

Going forward, will living together—as addicting as it is—be the new normal? Should he start looking for an apartment the two of you can share? How would they explain it if anyone asked?

And sometimes, a little voice creeps into his mind, and it asks, What if you change your mind?

But you haven't yet. In fact, Cael suspects those same thoughts have been running through your head as well, down to the little insecurities that he can't seem to shake.

"More than a few," you murmur softly, squeezing his hand.

He closes his eyes and squeezes your hand back. "Hopefully, not more than right now."

"I think you'll be fine," you say, your words succeeding a nervous giggle. "You have a very pretty face."

A sense of deja vu washes over him and, along with it, a familiar kind of sadness. He's reminded of your previous predictions—and of the way he has to remind you of them. For as long as their relationship grows, the number of inside jokes they accumulate will grow as well.

But the ones they already had might be lost.

He can't imagine his mocking impressions of his past self will land quite as well. This, in a nutshell, perhaps describes perfectly the answer to your next question.

"What's it like to have someone forget about you?"

"Strange," he says, condensing his rapid fire thoughts into only a single word.

It is neither a good thing nor a bad thing. Except it is a bad thing, because this whole fiasco occurred due to his mistake. But that's not your fault. If anything, the blame lies with him. But if he said that, you would deny until your face turned blue.

When you ask him to qualify his single-word statement, Cael naturally struggles to describe his feelings—in a way that won't make you feel bad.

Eventually, he settles on:

"You still remember who I am, don't you?"

In your voice, he can hear the slight downward curve to your lips and the way they flatten every so slightly into a straight line. And with a sigh, you flop onto your back loudly, sending a shockwave through the mattress. Your hand slips out of his grasp and makes room for its twin instead.

"I'll put that down as 'undecided'," you say, and sigh #2 soon follows.

But silence does not.

You call his name once more, still in that fretful and plaintive tone. "What if I get my memories back, but I don't remember this past week at all?"

"Then I'll tell you all about it," Cael answers easily.

For a moment, you ponder his words. If he could look into your eyes, as though the room was illuminated by the lamp in the corner of your room, what sort of emotions would he see?

"Okay. Don't let me forget about it, okay?" you tell him sternly. He's about to ask what that entails, in a teasing tone that's sure to have you reaching for a pillow, when you add, jokingly, "I can live without the embarrassing stuff."

He smiles and lets his silence do the talking.

You acquiesce to your fate rather easily, with a sigh. "Then, let this be the last time we have to deal with any memory shenanigans…"

"Indeed," Cael says, and hopes for it with all his heart.

— happy (very belated) birthday to the local caelmc art dealer, @nekonyaniii!

[hestzhyen]

Already Waist-Deep

Hi internet void. Please allow me to kagura my bachi all over the place for a little bit. I've got a bad case of the brain worms about these boys that I haven't even had together for 20 chapters yet, so let me ramble a little bit about why they're already so compelling as not only a duo, but a ship.

First off, a caveat. Kagurabachi is a Weekly Shounen Jump (WSJ) action series. That means that if romance is ever addressed in the series itself, the protagonist is going to end up with a girl. Doesn't matter how underdeveloped or lackluster his relationship to her is, or how flat she is as a character. Invest lightly and come along for the ride without any expectations of m/m ships becoming canon. (That said, it might not be the worst thing in the world for our MC to end up with a girl in this case- more on that later.)

Second, I don't really ship that often. Not seriously at least. I need more than two guys being close with each other to start wanting them to be a pair, y'know? So I hope you understand the intensity of the material Hokazono-sensei has been giving us the past few chapters. I am on the brink of going all-in on HakuHiro/ChihiHaku in less than 20 chapters, it's that insane.

Third, I will be talking about current developments without marking potential spoilers. There are only 38 chapters out as of writing this, but there are at least two reveals that would be better appreciated going in blind. Spoilers for the oneshot Farewell! Cherry Boy are also a thing near the end.

Okay? Okay. Let's begin.

Who's Involved? First up is our protagonist Chihiro Rokuhira, an 18 year old boy and the son of a famous swordsmith. He was raised with genuine love and care by his father (no idea what happened to his mom yet), taking care of their day-to-day life while learning his father's trade. And from the very first chapter he is steeped in tragedy as he witnesses his father's murder and life's work being stolen. He then sets out on the long, fraught road of vengeance.

Sounds grim and not exactly compelling, right? Especially when this scene from the first chapter was making the rounds being memed to death:

But there's much more to Chihiro than meets the eye. Flashbacks to his time growing up show him being a natural caretaker to his dad and their fish- cooking meals, keeping his dad on task, and so on. We see glimpses of underlying tenderness when he meets and rescues Char, a sweet little girl with her own tragic past. And we get some insight that he might not be quite as resolute as he's projecting himself to be when he faces off against Sojo, a fan of his father who worships a much different version of the man than Chihiro knew. And now the Rakuzaichi arc has definitively shown us that Chihiro isn't as collected as he seems. One of his father's killers easily cracks the mask and shows us Chihiro is really just a desperate kid with a heaping helping of trauma, then Tenri's pointless sacrifice shakes him to his core. But despite it all he's still doing determinator things in the most badass way possible. Chihiro has layers, man. A lot of them. And the best way to understand our protagonist right now is through his foil: Hakuri Sazanami.

Who is Hakuri? A 17 year old boy with a special lineage, but he's a loser who needs to be saved from common thugs. A pathetic guy who latches on to Chihiro and doesn't take the hint when Chihiro literally runs away to ditch him. An utter failure to his family. A lost puppy looking for a samurai.

Hakuri Sazanami is one of the best goddamn foils I've seen in shounen manga yet.

Let me tell you all the ways I love the writing around this kid and Chihiro because MAN I can't even contain all these feels.

What's Going On? From the start, Hakuri looks like he's just another person for Chihiro to bail out. He witnesses Chihiro's awesomeness fighting Sojo in the streets and decides to imitate it by standing up for a little girl being kidnapped. Instead of winning out, though, he's captured and kicked around. Once he's coincidentally rescued by Chihiro he's immediately all-in on tagging along and keeping Chihiro in his life. Look at this pitiful guy:

Chihiro decides to hear him out due to his connection to the Sazanamis, the Big Bads of the arc. He's initially put off by Hakuri's intensity but brings him along anyway, as Hakuri's insider information regarding the Sazanami family makes him useful. Then, as Chihiro wavers under Hiyuki's assault, Hakuri is truly useful for the first time:

And it only gets better from here. We see Hakuri hanging off Chihiro's every word trying to be as useful as possible for his samurai, striving to do anything he can, though it ends up with him forcing Chihiro to give up his precious sword Enten in exchange for his life. (Yes, Chihiro "buys" Hakuri from Hakuri's own family.)

Later on during the invasion of the auction is where things go into overdrive though. We see their character arcs start to invert and shape each other's as the action unfolds and Hakuri's own tragic past comes to light, eventually awakening him to his special abilities. Chihiro's bravery and strength help him pull this off and finally defeat the older brother that tortured him in the name of "love". Hakuri ascends to being the strongest Sazanami since the progenitor that started their line centuries ago. He's the Special Boy!

All this to say that Hakuri Sazanami isn't just a deuteragonist or a foil…

He's the goddamn heroine.

Kagurabachi's Built Different What makes a shounen series heroine? Firstly, they support the main character without getting involved in most of the heavy fighting. A shounen heroine will usually at most have a fight against another girl while the Big Event is happening nearby, making sure the main character has the spotlight. Second, most of the value they bring to the protagonist's story is emotional. They encourage him, validate him, provide a bit of a refuge for him to safely let his guard down. They can get him to express softer emotions that he wouldn't normally show around others. Third… they're the love interest. Hinata, Orihime, Chichi, and now… Hakuri? Really?

We know the third one will not happen for HakuHiro in canon. But what about the first two? Well, let's recap what Hakuri has done for Chihiro so far.

Hakuri can defend himself now, but his most useful ability is access to an interdimensional storehouse. Given the way that his magic works -he needs to prioritize maintaining the storehouse or using Isou- he'll likely be the means of keeping the enchanted blades safe rather than a front-line fighter. Support-centric character that will still get some combat time against lesser opponents: check.

Hakuri's given Chihiro some much-needed direct emotional validation that he hasn't gotten from anyone else yet. ("You saved me." … "That katana suits you.") Hakuri's words fortify his resolve and Chihiro later pays it back by trading Enten, an incalculably precious sword and memento of his father, for Hakuri's life. He even uses the same phrase when asked why he'd do that for someone as worthless as Hakuri ("That guy… saved me."). He later reaffirms that Hakuri's encouragement gave him the courage to let go of Enten in the first place:

This is AFTER we see Chihiro open up to him for the first time just minutes after they met:

Chihiro's been a stoic good guy with buried trauma up until this point. But somehow Hakuri is the first person he outright admits his fears to- not Shiba, not Hinao, but the freaky kid he just rescued. Emotional support pillar: check.

"Well that's not enough!" you say. "That's just taking some moments and doing that thing you said you didn't do- smushing boys together just because they're close!" OK but look at how Hakuri thinks about Chihiro:

Chihiro has been his inspiration from the first time he saw him. It can be read as admiration and hero worship, but doesn't that feel like selling Hakuri's feelings short when remembering how devoted he's been since they first met?

And just look at Hakuri's face here, he's beaming when Chihiro busts in to save him just like he believed he would:

Mostly, though, Chihiro is the one who gives Hakuri strength in the moment. The Ice Woman broke him free of his family's mentality, and now Chihiro gives Hakuri what he needs most: hope. Something he never had before, which doomed his relationship to the Ice Woman; he couldn't prove to her that there was more to life than despair because that was all he knew… but that completely changed once he met his samurai.

And that's been their thing through this arc. Each one is giving the other the vital thing they needed to grow and keep going. When Hakuri was struggling at the start, Chihiro was his guiding light towards a better future. And when Chihiro struggled in the aftermath of Tenri's cruel death, Hakuri pulled him along so they could finish the job. They're in perfect sync now as they take down the Rakuzaichi. Don't just take my word for it, check out Hokazono-sensei's color page for the most recent chapter (38): https://twitter.com/KaguraShiba/status/1804898273859445181 From Hella (KaguraShiba): >Kagurabachi Ch 38 JP Color Page 「阿吽の呼吸で薙ぎ払え」 "Two people dancing to the same beat, mowing down enemies" >阿吽の呼吸/"Aun no Kokyuu" Synchronized breathing >Or when people are the most in tune with each other >阿吽の呼吸/"Aun no Kokyuu" Is a Buddhist expression in Japanese meaning something close to "harmonizing in sync together" >"Aun" is also used to indicate an "Aun relationship", indicating an inherently harmonious relationship or nonverbal communication Yeesh. But holy shit it's paying off. In chapter 38 these boys are already in harmony- Hakuri registers Chihiro into his storehouse (yes they both "own" each other now) and sends him in to fight his father. During the fight, Chihiro trusts Hakuri to interpret his intent and it works. Chihiro wordlessly tags a bunch of grenades with his spirit energy and Hakuri pulls them out into the real world to bomb the shit out of the Rakuzaichi audience. They didn't plan this beforehand- they had no idea Kyoura had fucking grenades laying around in there. But they're close enough to understand each other's thoughts already. Peak soulmate material right there!

What's got me most interested now, though, is how they will pull/push each other after this arc. Chihiro's going to be focused more than ever on tracking down his father's killer and the swords. But Hakuri, well… I think it would be very interesting if he starts to become a despair monster. A reflection of Chihiro's state at the very start of the manga where nothing mattered to him except exacting revenge. We're seeing shades of this in the most recent chapter (38) where he's slumped over and obviously depressed about how all this is turning out. He's going to end his family's cruel trade but at what cost to himself? Will Chihiro see some of himself in Hakuri and be able to help him out, or at least promise to find relief from the pain together? Obviously a Bad End where Hakuri takes himself out is in the cards given Hokazono-sensei's previous works but… on a meta level, I think his storehouse ability will keep him relevant. I mean yeah he could be used to slap Chihiro across the face by showing what a bad end for his revenge story could look like but I think (hope) that won't happen. [Note to future self: I give you permission to go batshit insane if Chihiro stops Hakuri from committing sudoku.]

And this is where my brain worms are coming from. In just under 20 chapters we have an extremely strong set up between them- so much room for them to teach each other; push to grow and pull back from the brink when tragedy strikes again.

But where's the real meat, you ask? The actual literary analysis in this gushing rant about how much I love these boys I barely know? Well, fine. Buckle up because it's time for some…

Daddy Issues The Rakuzaichi arc really digs into comparing Chihiro's affection for his dad to the Sazanami family structure. And I gotta talk about this because it's the key aspect that makes Hakuri such a brilliant foil.

First off, the similarities. Chihiro and the Sazanami kids are all intensely devoted to their fathers. All of them were raised with love while learning the intricacies of their family trade. We see the Sazanami kids getting praised for doing well, just like Chihiro. Hakuri and Tenri were even told they were special. During the arc, the Sazanami kids put their lives on the line to defend their dad and family legacy with zeal matched by Chihiro's intensity to avenge his dad. When he falls, Tenri's final words are apologizing to his father.

It's truly heartbreaking that Kyora never really loved them back.

You see, the Sazanamis are one of those families that put their lineage and craft over everything else. Every member of the family lives for ensuring the Rakuzaichi auction goes off without a hitch. One of the clan is chosen to inherit the storehouse, and the rest are trained to defend it to the death. Kyoura, the current patriarch, has no compunctions about letting his son Tenri die just to delay Chihiro and the gang for a few more minutes. He had his kids put their lives on the line to defend a storehouse door that he had already broken in secret- making it completely useless. And he's equally cold when it comes to children who can't perform to standards like Hakuri. Once Hakuri (apparently) fails to manifest an ability for sorcery, Kyoura turns a willfully blind eye to the abuse his kid starts to suffer. He knowingly lets Hakuri be tortured by his older brother for years and does nothing, then disowns him once some "merchandise" kills herself in front of him. There's no love for children who can't be useful to the family's traditions. And yet any love that does exist between father and child is manipulated as seen here:

What the fuck man.

So Hakuri is going into this arc firm in his conviction to end his family's evil ways. He's been abused physically and emotionally for at least five years straight; he knows his father doesn't love him. But even now when he's about to bring the whole place down with Chihiro, he's still yearning for his dad's praise. Hakuri's family is fucked up bad and he needs a hell of a lot of healing after all is said and done.

Meanwhile, every flashback with Chihiro shows us that he was truly loved and cared for like every kid deserves. His dad wasn't perfect but he was exactly what a parent should be- kind, understanding, and supportive. His goofy advice helps Chihiro to this day. Chihiro and his dad had a genuine father-son bond that was broken by tragedy and thus Chihiro's desire to do right by his father's memory is driven by grief, first and foremost. So when we see his expression after Tenri's death, we know why he's so badly shaken. They clashed out of love and duty for their fathers, supposedly prepared to pay the ultimate price. The Sazanami version of "love" is a very different, much less wholesome version than the kind Chihiro knows… yet no less effective in terms of motivation.

You can practically hear his heart breaking for Tenri. And his inner thoughts in the next chapter say it all: he was naive to think he could enact revenge while holding fast to the kindness he grew up with. Chihiro's kindness that he learned from his father is a liability to him in this situation. In contrast, Hakuri knew from the start that he had to finally give up the last of his familial affection. He hardened his heart and steeled his resolve to do whatever it took.

Both Chihiro and Hakuri knew what it was like to be loved. Hakuri's version might have been twisted, but it was still painful to have that bond suddenly broken. And now we've seen Edgy Revenge Man's inner softness hold him back while Silly Soft Guy has a heart colder than the arctic. I go absolutely feral comparing and contrasting their situation and how their positions have reversed. Yeah, Chihiro's going to be the action guy who saves the day but Hakuri's the reason he can do it. Hakuri's surprisingly strong core has pushed Chihiro to put his feelings aside to get things done. I can't fucking wait to see how this arc ends and where these boys end up. What will the the most important thing Chihiro takes away from Hakuri here? I hope it leads him to be a bit more openly compassionate and soft around his allies- Hakuri's situation being a lesson in not letting your family's bonds overtake everything else. For Hakuri, well… I think being around Chihiro, Char, and the rest will help him heal. But I hope it's Chihiro that keeps him stable as the person that can relate to him best.

Meta Ramblings Whew. Now then… Yo dumbass writing this, we're not even 40 chapters in yet. Don't you think it's a bit too soon to start getting hyped for a character that could be shelved as soon as the arc is done?

It's interesting to see the themes and characters Hokazono-sensei's reused in Kagurabachi. From the four one-shots available to read, it seems like he's is interested in writing about characters encountering tragedy through various kinds of love. I think it's intriguing that three out of the four end in despair, and the one that doesn't still involves a fair bit of sadness. It's a bit early to say about Hakuri's circumstances since this is only the second proper arc in the series, but given Hokazono-sensei's past works, I think Hakuri is here to stay. For one, Hokazono-sensei seems to love his color-coded foils (Chain, Enten, Roku no Meiyaku). Farewell! Cherry Boy also explores the circumstances of a blindly loyal boy who feels useless being given his first chance to prove himself… I think this is a theme that Hokazono-sensei is revisiting in a more in-depth fashion with Hakuri, so there's a good chance there's more planned.

And just for fun, if we want to look at his romance stories… Madogiwa de Amu is all about one person being the other's greatest hope, their reason to persevere in the face of hardship and seeing that reciprocated in turn. Complete with the weaker person becoming strong enough to protect the person who inspired them first. Hmm. (Hopefully it doesn't end the same way though 'cause man, I can see Hakuri doing something similar right now…) It's also not impossible for Kagurabachi to touch on love given we see Farewell! Cherry Boy incorporating love as the crux of the narrative, despite starting as a gangster story. The true MC is quite like Chihiro as well in terms of motivation and action plan.

I also think it's impossible to overstate how important it is for Chihiro to have a friendly peer to compare to, narratively speaking. Char is a woobie, Shiba's an uncle figure, and Hiyuki is set up to be the aggro rival/frenemy. Hinao could become more than a side character but it seems unlikely at this time. Chihiro needs someone his own age to just be himself with. And that, I am 99% sure, will be Hakuri. A guy who's suffered just as much as he has. Someone who knows what it's like to have a famous last name and lineage to protect. An equal who's unquestionably on his side, who will lift him up when he's down, yet will still need some protection and care. So yes I think Hakuri will be sticking around to be Chihiro's foil. He might take a back seat at times as heroines do, but he'll still be there to support our sad boi through thick and thin.

Anyway that's why I'm ready to jump feet-first into this ship. It's got all the hallmarks of a wonderfully strong bond and I hope we get to see these boys comforting each other for years to come. If you read all this… thank you? Maybe get yourself checked for brain worms? And tell everyone you know to read this amazing action-packed tragedy laced with BL crack cocaine.

[year2000electronics]

I’m also gonna propose the OTHER side of the coin.

Mom!Tippi

Wouldn’t it be so tragic if Timpani had been that much closer to Bleck this entire time? If potentially Luigi were to meet and befriend her, neither having the slightest clue who the other is, prior to the events of SPM? And by the time they do all realize who everyone is and fully reunite, they only have like 5mins max to cherish it before two of them have to sacrifice their lives to save the third :)

Then on the other hand it’s also lowkey kinda hilarious?

Tippi is just kinda going through the motions with the prophecy. No memories and very little sense of self, she’s putting all her focus on the Pure Hearts and stopping the Void. Very… clinical-like. And gradually she starts to open up more to Mario & Co, grows a bit more lively and starts remembering things.

Like her lost love.

So imagine her surprise as things are starting to click and she’s piecing things together, and for the latest piece to the puzzle, there’s her exchange with Bleck when the group’s confronted by the Count in Sammer’s Kingdom. And then he not only mentions the name “Timpani”, which is very familiar for some reason, but also mentions a son.

There are many questions once she’s got her full memories back. At least she thinks so, but she certainly doesn’t remember having a child with Blumiere before they were torn apart and she was cursed to wander dimensions forever! Who IS this child? Where did he come from? What does this mean? Does this make her a mom? Will the child want her as a mom? Can she be a good mom? This was way less terrifying and complicated when it was just saving all reality from violent oblivion!

At first she thinks it’s Mr. L based off observations from the heroes’ fights against him. But then surprise! It’s actually Luigi! The sweetheart boy she’s known and befriended a few years prior to the adventure… how they were this close to have preventing it altogether had they figured it out sooner.

Picture the final thing that confirms for them both without a doubt their shared connections to Blumiere with the MOTI song that’s the duet to the Memory/Bounding Through Time track. A cherished melody between the lovers when they were together, that was also used as a lullaby for Luigi as a kid when he had nightmares.

Btw Luigi and Tippi being amnesia buddies throughout Ch7 Underwhere and Overthere segment is super cute. Criminal that this wasn’t capitalized on in the game either, like c’mon! Amnesia Buddies! Just supporting each other and helping the other get through the more intense flashbacks when they hit in addition to quest/adventure stuff.

Makes Luvbi’s teasing comments hinting that Tippi’s got a crush on Mario, Luigi or both a lot more awkward, tho.

That awkward moment when you accidentally call your mom friend “mom” out loud to their face, but it later turns out she was your actual mom the whole time.

It’s hard to hug on account of Tippi being a butterfly Pixl, but she carries the intent when she sits on Luigi’s nose and stretches her wings out across his face as best she can.

…I have far too much to say on potential relationships between characters that barely interact canonically.

AW YES... let tippi and luigi bond theyve earned it

i think the funny thing about that, too, is that even though tippi and luigi don't get much together, tippi does have some VERY strong opinions on mr. l (calling him greasy, saying he's weak, and her tattle on him specifically says he has 'no other outstanding features of note') so if she thinks mr. l is bleck's son (instead of luigi) i'm sure her first reaction would be... Interesting... LMAO