#but I did enjoy Union X from what little I played

[bluebeary-jay]

Face to face

Din Djarin x f!Mandalorian!Reader

Summary: as riduurs, you and Din can finally show your faces to each other without suffering any consequences. but when the time finally comes, your insecurities and fears of rejection come into play, threatening to ruin this important moment

Tags: just pure tooth-rotting fluff, Din and Reader being insecure, they're sweethearts though and so in love, Din being a supporting husband <3, mandalorian customs are probably half-accurate but i did my best in research 😌

Word count: 3K

A/N: haiii guys!! long time no see 🤗 i had this idea ever since i watched s2 of the mandalorian almost a month ago and i'm finally done! thank you to all who stick around and i really hope you'll enjoy my first attempt at writing din (feel free to let me know what you think 🤭)! i love all of you darlings 🥰 and as always, happy reading!! 💕

Din Djarin wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone, but he always wanted a family. The memories of his parents were hazy, but he remembered how much they loved each other and in the depths of his soul longed for a connection like this someday. Being the bounty hunter didn’t give many opportunities to look for a relationship, however, and with time he abandoned the hope for a place and people he could call home. He convinced himself that he was content being on his own.

But then the Child came along, and with it everything has changed. This little wrinkly womp rat became the most precious being in his life and Din was ready to die to protect Grogu – but he never expected that he’d also meet his future riduur because of the kid.

He did. You, a fellow Mandalorian Din spoke to only a couple of times in the hideout on Nevarro, decided to help him on his quest, and from this moment on he didn’t stand a chance. You were everything Djarin admired – brave, compassionate, skillful and kind – and though you both respected the Way of the Mandalore and never removed your helmets in each other’s presence, he knew in his soul that you were beautiful as well.

It was a long road to come to terms with what he felt for you and gather the courage to actually let you know it. But it was all worth it just for this moment when you exchanged your vows and he officially became yours, and you his. Now you were his riduur and he finally had every right to admire and cherish you like you deserved.

And most importantly, he could finally see you. The pair of you talked about this moment a lot during the nights spent on the Crest, tangling your fingers together when the ship was flooded with pitch-black darkness. Din used to whisper to you of his dreams, how he longed to run his eyes over your uncovered body, taking his time to commit to memory every little detail of your physique and expressions. You, with a giddy and wistful tone, told him how impatient you were to at last find out how his lips would feel on yours and what color his eyes were. Even when you both knew you were going to marry, you didn’t rush things and never removed your helmets until your union became official.

But you did see each other’s faces, once, though not in a conventional way. Din remembered it clearly as a day, though his eyes – as well as yours – were covered by a piece of a material the entire time. Both of you were desperate for each other that night, the tension hanging above your heads straining the resolve about waiting. And then came the moment when you didn’t fight it anymore. Instead, you both sat down on Din’s cot and without your sense of sight spent the next hour talking and trailing fingertips down each other’s faces.

Din reminisced about this moment a lot of times. He tried to remember the shape of your features to create a full picture of you in his mind while he laid alone in his bed, longing for your vicinity. Even if your bodies were separated only by the layers of beskar, it was still too far for him.

He didn’t have to wait any longer now.

It was the day of your wedding and Din Djarin never felt happier than in that moment when you recited Mandalorian vows and he got to touch your bare hand again, not covered by a glove, to put a custom-made ring on your finger. It wasn’t a necessary but he wanted to make this day memorable and meaningful for you. A few tears of joy were shed, but his face was still concealed by the helmet, allowing his emotions to take hold of him.

He hadn’t let go of your hand since the small ceremony (if one could even call it that) ended, and you squeezed his palm every few steps as you walked toward a house that was going to be your home for the next couple of days. The Child was being taken care of by other Mandalorians so that you could be completely alone for this special moment.

You were buzzing with excited energy for the whole week prior to your wedding, but now Din could sense his partner’s nervousness. He wasn’t exactly surprised – after all, it has been years for both of you since anyone saw you without your helmet on. But with every moment that you neared the bedroom, you seemed more insular, more withdrawn and hesitant, and Din started to really worry.

“Are you okay, cyar’ika (darling)?”

You slowed down, not answering right away, which caused Din to furrow his brows with confusion. Maybe you didn’t want to do it after all? Maybe it was too sudden for you? Or maybe he came off as too eager?

“Cyar’ika,” he repeated softly, wanting to put you at ease – but it didn’t seem to meet the target. “If you’re not ready…”

“No. No, I’m ready. I just…”

You trailed off. Din wordlessly guided you to the edge of the bed, cradling your hands in his – one gloved one and one not. The light of the setting sun flowed in through the small window and reflected off the hard beskar you both wore, bathing your figure in a beautiful golden light.

He was already so in love with you. What could possibly be the cause of your hesitation?

“I’m just nervous,” you murmured at last with your head bowed, looking at your joined hands. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?��� the Mandalorian repeated before he could think, and shook his head slightly. “What are you… What are you talking about? Why would I ever be?”

You lifted your gaze, and though Din couldn’t see your eyes, he could almost feel the weight of your fears on his own shoulders. The modulator in your helmet was hiding any trace of it, but he knew you long enough to recognize the tiniest shift in your body language.

“Ner kar’ta (my heart). I could never be disappointed with you.” He laced his fingers with yours, once again admiring how perfectly they fit together, and lifted them to his chest. “You own my heart and soul now, and nothing will change that.”

He hoped to soothe your nerves, but you were still silent. It wasn’t at all what Mando was expecting from this evening and he was at a loss for what to do to fix it.

“Would it help if I showed you my face first?” he asked after some time, and your head snapped up.

“No.” Even with the modulator, your voice clearly sounded broken and regretful, and it was wounding Din more than anything else could. “We were supposed to do it together.”

“We can,” he assured quietly, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. “But the most important thing to me… is for you to feel comfortable during it. If you want to wait–”

“I don’t.” You untangled your hands from his hold and instead brought them to his chest, placing them on the beskar breastplate. He couldn’t wait to take it off and feel your touch on his skin. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t marry you and make you my riduur.”

You leaned forward and lightly bonked your helmets together, a sweet gesture Din loved since the first time you did it.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum or’atu an mayen. (I love you more than anything.) More than life itself.”

“I know,” he answered simply and delicately brought your hands to the edges of his helmet. It was obvious what he was offering you. “That’s why I’m willing to do it for you.”

You were still, not daring to move, and Din nodded slightly to show you that he’s certain of his decision. His heart was beating heavily in his chest, though, and he could feel sweat forming on the back of his neck.

Showing your face to others was one of the worst crimes in Mandalorian culture, but doing it with your riduur was the highest honor that not everyone was fortunate enough to experience. But Din Djarin was among the lucky ones. Even though it was not in a way he always imagined, he didn’t care as long as you were happy.

You gripped the edges of his helmet tighter and a high hiss sounded, a telltale sign that the metal piece was ready to be removed. And slowly – so very slowly – you did. Din felt a flow of cooler air on his hot skin: first his chin, then his cheeks, finally his forehead…

And lastly, he inhaled shakily before lifting his head to look into the void of your visor.

A second passed by. Then two. Then ten, though Din felt like it must’ve been a full minute now. And still you didn’t move, just watched him silently, motionless as a statue.

The Mandalorian swallowed with difficulty, starting to feel very self-conscious. The crisp air cooled the sweat gathering on the nape of his neck and he had to use all his self-control not to fiddle his fingers nervously. He felt so naked and exposed under your gaze, though he absolutely shouldn’t – you were his riduur and there was no reason to feel ashamed or insecure with you. But he couldn’t help worrying: what if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you didn’t find him attractive at all?

Then a movement of your hands drew his attention and he watched, transfixed, as you slowly started to take off your glove, tugging one finger off at a time. Once your hand was freed from the confines of the protective material, you flexed your fingers before lifting both of your palms to his face.

Even though Din was acutely aware of your every move, he still somehow flinched in surprise at your touch, causing you to freeze and search his eyes with the air of concern around you. He quickly gave you a small nod, silently begging you to proceed, and, thankfully, you did. Your fingertips traced his cheeks, so delicately it almost tickled, brushing down the path to his stubble, and then back up to the arch of his nose and eyebrows. Djarin’s eyelids fluttered closed and he let out a shaky breath, giving in to the most amazing sensation that your touch was.

“I knew you had to be the most beautiful being in the galaxy,” you whispered from under your helmet with a voice filled with a plethora of raw emotions. Din regretted not being able to see your face at that moment, but if it would help you feel more comfortable in such a memorable and important situation, he was ready to do anything for you.

“I’m sure you’re a million times more radiant, cyar’ika,” he said back. His voice was weirdly weak and raspy, sounding strangely to him – probably because he knew there was another person hearing him without his helmet on. “Even if I don’t see your face, mesh’la (beautiful), today or ever… The love I have for you will never change or waver. That I promise.”

“It won’t exactly be fair to the Creed if I don’t remove my helmet in front of my husband,” you answered, half-teasing, but Din knew there was a real worry behind your words.

“You know very well there’s nothing said about it in the Creed.” He opened his eyes, offering you a small smile. “And I don’t remember our vows mentioning it, either.”

You clicked your tongue with exasperation, but Din also saw your shoulders relaxing, a sign that some of your nerves ebbed away.

“Gev bic (stop it),” you laughed, letting your hand fall down – but before it could happen, Din caught your wrist and lifted it back to his face. He slowly kissed the inside of your palm, down to the veins disappearing under your sleeve, his eyes fixated on your visor the entire time. His smile grew slightly when he felt a shiver run through you.

“I love you, ner kar’ta,” he whispered. “Even if you’re a half-Hutt under your armor.”

“Don’t push it.”

You let go of his hand and Din’s face fell, fearing that he really went too far. He reached for you but stopped when you straightened up and took a deep breath, your hands going to the last thing that separated you from him – your helmet.

He held his breath and his heart beat erratically as he watched you. He tried not to blink, not wanting to miss the moment when he finally got to see your face. Just the fact that you were willing to do this meant so much to him, but…

Slowly, you took your helmet off and placed it down on the mattress right next to his. Then, a pair of irises gazed into the depths of Din Djarin’s heart.

…you were wrong.

Oh, how wrong you were.

There was no mistaking it that you were by far the most breathtaking sight the Mandalorian had ever laid his eyes on.

The Maker must’ve been overly generous, or maybe favored you, for looking at you… it felt like coming home.

You stared at him with gentle, tentative eyes of the most beautiful color in the world, and Din would’ve gladly lost himself in them. Your lips, so tempting and soft-looking, were parted slightly as you awaited his reaction, but he couldn’t move. He just watched, spellbound, and wondered if this truly is reality and not some cruel, elusive dream.

He hadn’t felt such awe even when he saw Grogu doing his magic for the first time. Hadn’t felt such elation even when a new skin made of beskar was forged just for him. Had never before felt such love in his life.

You were a wonder. A miracle.

“Cyare?”

Your voice sounded almost fearful to your ears, but you couldn’t help it – Din seemed unable to utter even a word, and panic started to flood your veins when you noticed tears gathering in his dark, beautiful eyes. “Din–”

But before you could move away, he slipped off the bed and knelt by your feet. You were so taken aback by this action that you didn’t even react when he cradled both of your hands in his and pressed lingering kisses to your fingers, one after another.

“If I could, I’d marry you all over again,” he rasped, meeting your gaze with so much love and adoration in his brown eyes that it took your breath away. “How did I get so lucky…?”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you let out a breathless laugh of relief, your pupils darting across the lines and grooves of his face. “You… you’re not just saying that, right?”

“Cyar’ika, look at me.” He gently tilted your chin up, making your eyes meet his. For a second he faltered, parting his lips in wonder at the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, before he swallowed and gazed at you again. “Do you doubt my words?”

No. There was really no questioning his motives. You knew Din was as honest as one could be and there were only your own insecurities at play here. But the longer you looked at him, his expression so full of love and devotion, the less relevant your own doubts were becoming.

You couldn’t think of anything else but him.

“I really want to kiss you,” you whispered instead of answering, and his face broke into a wide, joyous grin. “Can I–?”

The Mandalorian didn’t even wait for you to finish – the second those words left your mouth, he surged forward and pressed his lips to yours forcefully, eliciting a surprised sound out of you, which soon turned into a needy whimper. You didn’t give him a chance to back away and instantly tangled your fingers into his hair, moving clumsily to be closer to him.

But when you attempted to climb onto his lap, your breast plates collided with a metallic clank, forcing the pair of you to put some space between you. Din huffed with frustration, while you laughed and cupped his face in your hands.

“You’re quite impatient for a bounty hunter,” you accused him playfully, nudging your nose with his. You took a deep, calming breath, wanting to surround yourself with the smell of him completely, but your riduur didn’t let you indulge for long.

He moved quickly and, without a warning, kissed you briefly again – and then one more time. It was more like a light peck, and you longed to feel his tongue inside your mouth once more, but at the same time relished in every sensation that his lips brought. Every touch he gave you was something infinitely precious.

“I’ve waited longer than you,” he murmured. His hands were already moving, taking off the beskar on his forearms and shoulders, reaching where he could without removing you from his lap just yet. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, cyar’ika.”

You smiled widely and looked up from his deft fingers to throw another teasing comment, but in one second you lost your train of thoughts.

Because Din was blushing.

The feared Mandalorian’s face – a face you were finally allowed to see whenever you desired – was sprinkled with redness across his cheeks and ears. And you were the cause of that.

The thought of it almost caused your eyes to water.

“What are you looking at, mesh’la?”

Your eyes found him again and you smiled brightly, causing Din’s heart to skip a couple of beats.

You took his stubbly chin in-between your fingers and brought his lips closer, planting a soft kiss there that had the Mandalorian melting. He covered your hand with his, feeling the band on your finger under his own.

A miracle.

“I’m looking at you.”

[thebadboyfanclub]

You Bled For Them, You Decide Pt.2 (Daemon x Reader)

So a lot of people requested a part two of this and had some requests on what should it be about, the stakes were high so I hope I did not disappoint you. Enjoy!

Part one

(Y/n) was not a fool, she was sure that the second she steps foot in Targaryen ground all eyes would be on her, the mystery woman that managed to tame the rogue prince. She despised that nickname, (y/n)s opinion was that her dear husband had simply leaned towards violence to make up for the pain he had felt, Daemon was a passionate man which meant he loved as deeply as he hated, she knew Daemon would burn the seven kingdoms to ensure that their family is safe, he was a man of honour.

“Do you truly believe a character like prince Daemon has settled?”

“It certainly looks like it, he hasn’t stepped away from her and the children for longer than a minute”

“The children… well at least with this union no one can question their true parentage”

Otto whispered the last part only for his daughter queen Alicent to hear. Everyone was at awe how none of the kids had inherited their mothers features except small details,(y/n) adored the fact that they looked like the father, she was unaware what a big role on their safety that played.

“I believe we must introduce ourselves, would be interesting”

Alicent suggested while her father hummed in agreement, in almost complete unison they began to walk towards the couple that was pre occupied with the king.

“Alicent and Otto, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Daemon questioned ironically, (y/n)s eyebrow was raised in confusion as she looked up at him for clues about the sudden change on his demeanour.

“Prince Daemon, it’s been so long since we last saw you, you were newly widowed at the time”

“Widowed?”

(Y/n) never pressured Daemon to speak of his past, he revealed what he wished while he laid on her chest and let her to brush his silver hair with her fingers. Daemons eyes squinted at the smart remark Lord Otto had thrown at him, he was looking for a way to cause a problems in his marriage.

“Your lady wife seems oblivious to the fact that you were wed prior”

Alicent noticed, (y/n) tried to keep her composure and patiently wait until they are alone to question her husband. Daemon was ready for war, they were pushing the boundaries in order to get what they want, to destroy what he worked so hard for and he wasn’t going to stand for it.

“I was forced into a marriage for alliance that is correct, (y/n) is my first true match, I thank the Gods for sending her to me every morrow”

Daemon was being genuine, his lady wife had been a miracle, the Gods took pity on him and showed him what it is like to have a reason to come back from battle alive. Daemon took his (y/n)s hand in his to place a kiss on her knuckles, (y/n) smiled even though her mind had stored the new information for another time, it wouldn’t be wise to pick a fight while attending a funeral.

“Such tender words, I am glad you have left your infatuation with princess Rhaenyra behind you”

The sentence that was spoken from the Queens lips made (y/n)s blood ran cold, the woman that she had just been introduced to had an affair with Daemon? It could not be, she was a married woman, the daughter of his own brother, “no that wouldn’t stop him, he is a Targaryen” she thought as her hands started to shake from anger. Thankfully her eldest daughter cut the conversation short before push came to shove and (y/n) showed her temper, the girl was panting while her cheeks were severely blushed from running around, she hadn’t been this blissful in weeks.

“Mother, can me and Aemond go play in the shore?”

“Aemond?!”

Daemon exclaimed, earning a side eye from everyone, if he had it his way his children would never play along side Alicents children, maybe little Heleana would be an exception but that would be it, especially when it came to his precious daughters he hated when they would be boys around them, even worst if they were hightowers.

(Y/n) did not spare a look at her lord husband, she simply tucked away a few strands of hair that seemed to stick on the young girls sweaty forehead and smiled lovingly, Alyssa was in much need of a companion, she loved her siblings but she would always have to take care of them.

“Of course my little deer, better yet I’ll come with you. I would love to meet your new friend Aemond”

-

(Y/n) had managed to discreetly slip away from everyone, she found joy at watching her daughter play carelessly with her new friend, the timid Aemond that barely raised his gaze to (y/n) when introduced, still he ran with Alyssa around the shore as they had both taken their shoes off and splashed in the water.

(y/n) could stay like this together, away from everyone with her family while they enjoyed the simple things life had to offer, it’s what her and Daemon had in common, although she could identify that Daemon had missed his brother, perhaps he missed princess Rhaenyra as well.

“Come along sweetlings, it’s getting dark”

“Mother please just a few more minutes”

“Fine, I will make sure your siblings are sleeping and then I will come back to escort you”

“Thank you lady (y/n)”

Aemond replied with the utmost respect. (Y/n) simply smiled as she turned her back on the children, with the assistance of a kind knight she was guided to the room (y/n), Daemon and little Johanna would occupy for the night, she had already peeked inside the other rooms for her children to find the sleeping peacefully.

To her misfortune she never had great memory when it came to directions, getting lost by turning left instead of right or was it right instead of left? She cursed under her breath for not looking around for clues when she had the chance.

“I need you uncle, I cannot fight them alone”

“You know I would support you if war occurred Rhaenyra”

The voices that reached her ears made her come to a halt, her back found the cold wall to rest so she can listen to her husbands conversation with the princess, she had put on such a brave fight to forget what was said about their affair before (y/n) came to his life, excusing it as a spur of a moment and feelings long forgotten, now there she was hiding in the dark to catch them whispering.

“I do not need you as a soldier Daemon, i want us to bind our blood”

“Rhaenyra”

“Do you love her?”

Tears welled up in (y/n)s eyes, this could not be. He brought to his homeland just to embarrass her? To parade his children and leave (y/n) in the dust? Did she marry such a cruel man? She felt like her heart was going to come out her throat at the sound of those words.

“More than life itself”

“So my love for you meant nothing?”

“You were a child Rhaenyra, we both made mistakes”

“You did not love me?”

“Of course I did”

“My love?”

(Y/n) came out of her hiding spot, she wasn’t going to let the princess sway her husbands words, Daemon had declared his love and the princess did not want to give up, she was toying with (y/n)s wedlock like the life of her and her children including the pain this will cause meant nothing.

Daemon focused on his wife, smiling at the sight of her, Rhaenyra turned to face her as well, Daemon could see that (y/n) heard everything, he identified the fire of fury in her eyes, she appeared with reason.

“Where are the children my dear?”

“Alyssa is playing with Aemond, I will go to collect them now but I have seem to get lost within the castle”

“I shall escort you then, excuse me princess Rhaenyra”

Daemon took (y/n)s hand in his as they left Rhaenyra in shambles, he left her for (y/n), his morals did not buckle at the slightest, not even for Rhaenyra.

As they turned the corner (y/n) took off her polite mask, her hand gripped on to his as she held him back from walking even further, Daemon felt his heart skip a beat at the fact that (y/n) was clearly upset. He did not prepare her correctly for this visit, he should have known that the greens would try to tear them apart.

“A wife? An affair? With your own niece at that”

“All before I met you my love”

“That’s not my point, I looked like a fool in front of everyone. Here I am, your wife that did knew nothing of these acts of yours, we are a union and we appeared weak against the hawks eye”

Daemon had guessed she would be frustrated about the acts, he couldn’t be more wrong. (Y/n) had heard of tales about her husband, his thirst over women, she only cared about how she appeared like their union was fickle, that they were secrets between them.

Daemon let out a breath before he took (y/n) for a hug, she did not respond immediately but gave in to wrapping her arms around him after a moment.

“I apologise my love, I will fix it”

“You better or you will have to start looking for a third wife”

Haste heavy steps pulled them apart from one another, curiosity taking over them as they waited for the person to appear. A knight stood before them, clearly stressed, (y/n)s heart clenched tight.

“The kids”

“Your children are alright however you must follow me”

The couple ran to wherever the knight guided them, (y/n) was the first to burst in the room, Alyssa stood next to her friend Aemond who was getting stitched up in the eye. (Y/n) skipped over to her and instantly started looking for wounds, Daemon took in the room as everyone gathered, Baela and Rhaena crying in their grandmothers arms and Lucerys had a nose bleed as he was also crying.

“I am unharmed mother”

“What happened? I told you to be careful with Aemond”

“It wasn’t my fault, Aemond claimed a dragon so we went for a flight when we got ambushed by the others that claimed Vhagar was meant for Rhaena and I… mother I swear I tried to defend Aemond, it was four against two”

“It’s alright my dear, you did your best”

Alyssa spoke honestly, Jacaerys had restrained her when the others attacked Aemond, everything happened so fast she did not have time to process what to do, she did everything she could to defend Aemond, now he had lost his eye.

(Y/n) hugged her daughter tightly, thanking the Gods for sparing her daughter from harm. Everyone was occupied with blaming one another to notice (y/n) wince from pain, her labour had started, she had been through this multiple times she had knowledge of the pains starting early, it was not the time to focus on that as of yet.

“It was my sons that were attacked and forced to defend themselves, vile accusations were spoke from prince Aemond”

“No he did not”

“Alyssa”

“No mother they attacked him”

“He held a rock”

“After you started beating him and then you took a knife out you meant to kill him”

Alyssa was furious, she had seen everything and was appalled by such hostile behaviour especially within family members. Alyssa had grown into an environment that love and respect was shown to everyone, to be met with such hatred was a new found grown for the young girl, Daemon smirked at her daughter fighting against princess Rhaenyra and cutting her off before she could finish, Alyssa had a backbone stronger than any child her age.

“My king this is the highest of treachery and since the girl wants to take prince Aemonds side I ask both of them to be questioned for their treason”

“my child nor any will be questioned like they are criminals, I would have hoped for a woman of such high rank to have some respect for a child that has been permanently scarred from your own kin”

“Are you accusing me of something lady (y/n)?”

“I am defending what’s right which is what my daughter did as well, you are protecting your own and so will I”

“Enough!”

The king intervened. Daemon tried to bring (y/n) back from her anger by placing a hand on her shoulder, truly he did not want to do it still he worried over how heavily pregnant wife, she should not feel any type of uneasiness at such delicate state.

He was certain (y/n) could stand her ground and defend their family better than anyone, a side of him relished it when (y/n) pushed back at others and protected their children, her fire and quick tongue was his favourite things about her.

“Lady (y/n) is right, princess Alyssa has done nothing wrong”

“She stood against the heir”

“She defended her friend, titles don’t mean shit to our family pri- ow”

She could not hold back any longer, she felt liquid ran against her leg as the pain similar to knife cutting her belly made her lose her cool. Daemon was quick on his feet as (y/n) put her hands on her knees to hold herself up against the pain, daemon wrapped his hands around his wife to help her up, worry written all over his face.

“What is it my love?”

“My labours started”

“Maester-“

“No maesters, take me to my room now”

She interrupted the queen, everyone stood still not knowing what to do next. Alyssa stood next to her mother so she can rub her belly to soothe the pain, she had been present at the birth of her siblings for as long as she remembered, it was almost muscle memory now.

“Lady (y/n) I promise you i am very experienced with delivering babes for the royal-”

“Oh Fuck off will you? I said no fucking maesters, Daemon please hurry or I will push this babe out for your entire family to see”

“As you wish my love”

In one swift motion Daemon swooped (y/n) from her feet to rush her to the privacy of their own room, Alyssa followed quickly with queen Alicent, the Maester and princess Rhaenyra hot on their trail, as they were all amazed by (y/n)s resilience they wanted to witness the woman giving birth on her own, as (y/n) breathed heavy she leaned her head on her husbands shoulder.

“This is going to be a quick one”

(Y/n) could time her pains growing stronger at such short period of time, her babe was rushing to come out to the point (y/n) did not think she would make it to her room.

Fortunately she was wrong, as Daemon kicked the door open to quickly lay (y/n) in the bed Alyssa sat behind her mother to help her sit up while the mothers back laid against her daughters chest. Alyssa admired her mothers strength more than anything, she viewed (y/n) as the strongest person alive and loved that she was allowed to be included to the birth of her siblings, secretly scheming to follow the tradition of a private birth.

“Everyone out”

“The maester should stay in case of any assistance-“

“Daemon I can feel the head”

(Y/n) screamed from the pain, roaring her babe out that did not wait for anyone or anything. The family quickly forgot the presence of outsiders as they supported (y/n) for her birth, (y/n) held her daughter with one hand as Daemon lifted his wives dress to help her with any way he can.

“Almost there (y/n), give it one strong push and you will hold our babe in your arms”

He encouraged her while Alyssa stroked her mothers hair with her free hand. The trio that stood a few meters away were like statues, the queen was deeply moved by the love that lingered in the room and Alicent clenched the charm of the seven that hang from her neck, her children’s birth so strongly connected with the people in the room, the family had a bond that was rare in this world.

Soon enough cries of the babe echoed in the room as everyone in unison let out a breath of relief, (y/n)s lips curved to a triumph smiled as she saw her babe for the first time, Alyssa kissed her mothers forehead as encouragement for a job well done, amazed at the view of another sibling brought to life.

“Praise the mother”

Alicent spoke as she was the first to approach (y/n) who stretched her arms to hold the baby, tears appeared on everyone’s cheeks except the maesters and the only thing you could hear was the cries of a newborn babe, what a magical sound that was to a mothers ears.

“A princess is born to driftmark, Maester let everyone know (y/n) delivered her babe”

Rhaenyra instructed, she internally admitted defeat since there was nothing she could do anymore, watching Daemon so involved in the birth and cry tears of joy as he held the bloody babe in his arms was enough proof of there romance having no chance of reconciliation. Daemon sat next to (y/n)s bed as he observed his wife holding their babe in her arms and their eldest holding her mother in her arms with her eyes full of love.

“Well done my moon, what a gift you blessed me with, another beautiful and heathy daughter”

“Welcome to our family Maegora”

(Y/n) whispered as she held her baby, Alyssa gasped at the choice of the name, Alyssa had suggested it a while back and her father had laughed at the choice and the fear it would install to everyone’s hearts.

Daemon was actually fond of the name, still he had a habit of teasing his children so he just leaned to kiss (y/n)s lips, she was so beautiful after she delivered their children, a glow unlike any other as the light of candles was the only source of light, his devotion to her was as deep as any religious person, his heart only beat because hers did.

“You are radiating my love”

Requests are open!

@slutmeoutsworld @ayamenimthiriel @the-phantom-of-arda @babystudentroadthing @pearlstiare @bxdbxtxh15 @lazypinkpig

[yan-lorkai]

Hello , i hope your doing great . Would you please do a scenario for yandere undertaker and yandere sebastian (separately) x fem reader. Reader doesn't want to marry them so she tries to run away away at the wedding day but fails and gets captured ? Thank you ❤

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, fem reader, kidnapping, implied murder, threats.

Marriage is nothing more than a union between two people before God, so for Sebastian this does not carry the same meaning. For him, marriage only symbolizes what in his conception is already true: that you are his in every way and now the marriage certificate proves it. Even if you oppose to this marriage, Sebastian doesn't care.

Although he would love for you to give your opinion on the decorations or the type of cake you would like have at the wedding, he knows you are still in denial so he plans everything himself. From the hanging chandelier, to the flowers in the bouquet, to the dress you're wearing that he sewed himself, every little detail meticulously planned to be perfect.

He knows that humans like to be surrounded by their parents, relatives and friends on a special day like these, and if you had behaved they would all really be here. But it's better this way, just you, him and the priest who officiated the ceremony. That way he doesn't have to kill your parents and friends in front of you when you shout and scream about everything you've been through with him. Even though part of him wished this had happened, with no one else out there waiting for you, looking for you, praying, you would have only him. Only him.

Maybe he would kill them and return to your side, blood dripping from his hands and face as he kisses and touches you. Maybe he would even tell you what he did and how he did it to observe your reactions. If you like to act like he's the biggest evil in the world, maybe he'll give you a reason to hate and fear him. Maybe, but he won't act on those thoughts if you don't force his hand. The same hand with which he fixes your hair and makes your makeup, circling you to get a view of you from all sides.

"I will wait for you at the altar, my dear," His tone was soft, but there was an implicit promise of death in his eyes, a bloodthirsty glint that you had been able to witness many times before. Just for a second longer Sebastian stands there, looking at you through the mirror and then he smiles and leaves.

Your heart beats quickly inside your chest, it beats like it has never beat before. Your nerves are on edge, but you have to calm down and take a deep breath. You know what Sebastian is, you know how strong he is, but you know that an opportunity like that is unique and you must take advantage of it. You must escape now.

Running away isn't hard, well, actually it is a little, because you're wearing a dress and high heels but you kick them all and hold them hem of your dress up. And you run. You run as you never ran on your life. You know Sebastian is busy with tons of things, plus you are supposed to come a little late, as you are the bride. But you clearly underestimate him.

He may not be with you physically but as a demon he has his ways of knowing where you are and how you are, he can feel your heart beating, he can taste your fear and apprehension. And he loves it, he loves knowing your fear him, to know you are opposed to this marriage, given time he knows you come around.

But for now he enjoys the chase. He excuse himself for a moment to go meet you halfway through your attempting escape. You can hear his beautiful little laugh, can see his shadows but when you look behind your shoulder there's nothing there. He is playing with you, getting you even more frightened before trapping you in his arms so tight not even air can arrive at your lungs. His hand closes on your throat as he look at you, eyes red with animalistic excitement. "Dear me, look what we have here." He muses, watching you breathe hard, beads of sweat running down your forehead.

"Sebastian... What a pleasure to see here." Your reply is sarcastic, weak. But it makes him smile as he caress your face lovingly, as lovingly as a demon can, though you feel dirty at every touch, at every moment you're trapped under his creepy stare.

"You run away like a little lost mouse so I've came to get you back right where you belong. Don't make things harder than necessary, darling." It's his final warning. You know, you can feel in your bones that if you are to try anything again he would retaliate.

He has been doing a great job at keeping his demonic tendencies in check even when you snarled and yelled at him those past few weeks. But there truly nothing you could do? There was nothing you could try? His hand held yours, guiding you, the oppressive silence making you even more uncomfortable.

And when the priest asked "do you accept this man as your lawful and only husband?" All you could do was stare at him, tongue numb, members tired before answering. "I do."

And like a mouse, you were caught in Sebastian's trap. One you could never escape.

⠀⠀

Marriage. What a strange concept. Why people get married, that's what Undertaker thought when checking humans' memories. They all got married, they all had children, they all had their ups and downs together, yet they loved each other. Is love really that essential for humans? He didn't know, but he had a lot of questions to ask. And many of them answered themselves when you appeared in his life.

You had recently lost someone and like a wounded bird, you walked into his funeral home. It was like destiny. It was like a lever had been pulled in his brain, like he could finally see colors and feel the warmth of the sun on his skin after so long without those things. He was drawn to you, enchanted by your words. And everything else was history.

Undertaker knew that humans are fragile and fearful, and he tried to woo you the right, human way. Giving you flowers, walking with you, hearing you talk. And everything would have worked out if you hadn't discovered that he wasn't human, that he was a Shinigami and desperately tried to get away from him. He didn't want to kidnap nor threaten you but he grown desperate. He didn't want to lose the feelings you gave him, he didn't want to let you go. So he did what was necessary, he gave you a new home, he gave you books and lines for you to sew and weave if you wanted. He gave you everything you wanted but your freedom.

A marriage was bound to happen because he wanted you to experience this little enjoy. But also because he wanted to tie you to him even more, to make you his wife and be able to truly calls his wife. The ceremony is not as beautiful and organized as Sebastian's, but he supposes is the thought that counts. He buys you a really cute white dress and make-up, and he lets you get ready alone. As the bride and the groom can't see each other till they're both on the altar or something like this, honestly he doesn't understand this saying. Why can't he see you? He wants to see you!

But he controls himself, he has to. He stands on the altar with the priest at his side. He hums and waits impatient. Meanwhile you is running away so hard that everything else turns into a blur, people, voices, sounds, smells, everything is a blur as you run and pray for someone to save you. Anyone. Tears flow from your eyes when in the distance you see his silvery long hair and dangerous green eyes staring at you. You tremble, biting your lip so hard not to scream that you can taste blood on your tongue, you force your legs to work more than they can handle, you're sure later on your feet would be filled with blisters but you don't care about it now.

Though it's not enough. It's not enough and you hated it. You hear him mumbling while he catches up with you, a part of you is surprised he isn't actually going to pull his scythe from wherever he keep it and reap your soul right here and now. The part of you who is still in love with him wavers for a second, you think only for a second if it's worth to try, if you actually can win against him, if can actually escape and your hesitation is all he needs for him to close his arms around your body tightly. He breathes hard, warm air hitting your neck as you feel him still against you, afraid of losing you. Afraid of losing everything.

"Why did you run, sugar? Wasn't I good enough for you? Didn't I treat you right?" He was whispering right at your ear. And that was much more scarier than having him screaming or having him threatening to hit you. "Don't you love me anymore? That can't be, right? You must be a little scared, oh sweetheart I know marriage is a big step but everything's going to be fine. I can take care of everything, leave all the work to me."

As if to made you pity him even more, you could little tears streaming down his face and onto your back, timidly, slowly. A sour taste lingers on your mouth. You can't escape now. You can't escape now that he is so on alert, every little move you make would be under his eyes. You can't escape now but you certainly can play your card right. And the right thing to do now was surrender yourself. Surrender and wait for an opportune moment.

For now you let him fix your dress and hair carefully, and then drag you to that damned altar. It's suffocating, insufferable. And there's nothing you can do about it. He holds your hand as he slips the ring into your finger and look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

"I do." You say as you stare at him. In the future your attempt would be successful but for now you may entertain him.

[just-a-ghost00]

Do you stand a chance with this person?

If you're feeling a bit lost about a connection and where this is going, we'll try to see if this is worth your time and energy. Pick one of the following emojis : 1🕷️  2🎃 3🦇

Group 1 - Pink Spider ~

9 of cups, Justice, The Sun, Hierophant, The Star

Well, this looks pretty good for you group 1. Not only do you stand a chance but the outcome could be even better than what you ever dreamed of. This person thinks and feels positively towards you. Their intentions are genuine and serious. They want to do right by you. This connection has potential for a succesful committed relationship. With the Star card, I get the feeling that it may take a while before you come into union with this person, especially if there is an important physical distance between you. Little TMI : the song linked to your group is from Japanese artist Hide (X-Japan). This song is a metaphorical one. It talks about a pink spider whose perception of the world is narrowed down to its web, the web representing the lies it tells itself or told by others. Looking at the sky from the web, it wishes for wings that it doesn't have. It is afraid to take risks and get hurt, but by looking at the butterflies and birds soaring high, the spider still envies them. One day a bird flying by, seeing the sad spider, advises it to take a butterfly's wings and come fly with them. Though this is going to hurt the butterfly, the spider desperately wanting to fly takes the wings, appologizing for its deeds. "It's not that I want to hurt you, but I don't have wings and that sky is just so high..." says the spider. To which the butterfly answers "you can take my wings, but you'll find out soon enough that flying isn't as easy as you'd think". As expected, though having the butterfly wings, the spider still can't fly. Still looking at the sky, the spider sees the birds immigrating to the South flying by its web. The end of the song is a bit confusing. The lyrics are "ano kumo ga toori sugita" and the word kumo can both be translated as cloud or spider. So the meaning of the lyrics could either be "I wanna go over to those clouds" and in this case this would be the spider's thoughts. But it could also be translated as "I wanna go over that spider" which in this case would be from the bird's POV. For some reason I felt like talking about the lyrics translation of that song would be relevant.

Confirmation signs : ladybugs, flowers, doves, books, trees, distance, social media, Leo, Taurus, Aquarius, Libra, starry skies, goats, letter S

Group 2 - This is Halloween...

6 of cups , knight of pentacles, 6 of swords, king of wands, 9 of wands

You could stand a chance with this person however this would take a lot of effort and patience from both sides. There's a lot to heal for this connection to be fruitful. There would definitely be chemistry and passion but there would also be a lot of challenges and tensions if you were to pursue this connection right now. It would be best to work on yourselves prior to being together. But what you do is up to you. This connection would potentially require you to leave a connection or situation. If you pay attention to the song related to your group, there's an underlying energy of fear and tricky energies. It's like a lot of frightening things are lurking in the shadows and to be able to fully enjoy the journey, you have to be able to overcome your fears and tame the demons hiding under the bed, the ghosts of the past trying to haunt you and so on. Also, this song happens at a kind of masquerade / parade where all spooky creatures are playing games and hiding behind masks, especially Jack Skellington who pretends that he enjoys his role in the community when he is thriving for something different and new. So this could be relevent to your situation with this person.

Confirmation signs : repeating 6s, earth signs, fire signs, books, religious people, clouds,

Group 3 - For Gotham !

7 of swords, King of swords, Hierophant, Tower, Ace of cups

To be honest, your chances are thin. I can't say no. But I can't say yes either. I feel like this person would love to be in a romantic relationship with you. But they are so scared about the idea that it seems impossible for them to welcome you in their life. With the 7 of swords and the King of swords, I get the impression of someone doing everything in their power to hide their true thoughts. Someone deliberately lying and acting unkind to somehow protect the other from their shadows. Maybe they struggle with mental health issues and they don't want you to witness the mess they're in. They don't want to let you in. I feel like losing you because of who they are would shatter them. So they put up a wall between you. The Batman reference was no coincidence. I intuitively picked up on it before I proceeded with the reading. This person really gives me Bruce Wayne vibes. They pretend like all is fine when they're falling and their world is in ruins. They love you but they would rather die than let you know. They would rather you believed you were insignificant to them so you could move on in your life and be happy without them because they don't think they have what it takes to make you happy, no matter how successful they can be in life.

Confirmation signs : flowers, nightingales, churches, wings, air signs, Taurus, dragons, sea shells, lotus flower

[the-owl-tree]

reading the star excerpt (link here)

i quite like the prologue. i like curlfeather taunting splashtail, i like his insecurity being exacerbated. i think it actually hammers in how young and out of his depth he is

which....sucks the rest of the books portray him as this manipulative mastermind. he's much more fun of a villain when you can see him scrambling for power (and losing it)

which makes the whole riverclan as poor victims kind of suck. icewing rightfully calls out her clanmates for being cowards for uh- *checks notes* using mothwing as target practice?? sorry we're going over the top evil i see. anyways, my point is....yeah, riverclan IS complicit in this, they DO have a choice to say no. splashtail doesn't even have enforcers like brokenstar and tigerstar did, it's literally just one guy - heck the warriors themselves are the enforcers.

fear becomes a limp excuse at this point. you guys gotta unionize or something.

i think the book is really struggling to make splashtail's NO MISS OHKO X9999 ULTRAKILL ATTACK an actual credible attack. look i get it they think he has nine lives, but the three of them could take on a teen i believe it.

i think because this arc won't acknowledge that riverclan is complicit in letting this fester, that they wanted this kind of leadership, it makes him fall flat. how much scarier would it be, more gray it would be, difficult, and so and so on if the clan rallied behind their leader because of the prior events? i get it, they're playing into the fear angle, but there NEEDS to be some more willing participants or this doesn't work.

the closest we get is this exchange but like. guys. the gathering exchange was stupid as hell.

also, you'd think every brit was the worst dog owner in the world LMAO these boys are screaming and straining on their leash while the owners chatting away. every dog in brit is some cat mauling beast i guess.

i was so ready for repetitive "why should we do X??" let's fight about it for the next few pages that it was a fucking relief that cloverfoot was just "yep bring them in!". fucking uh flashbacks from bramblestar's leadership lmao

the phrasing on this made me snick. "behaved so badly" makes it sound like she was kind of unruly, not plotted to overthrow her leader lmao

i dont wanna nitpick, i am actually enjoying that the plot is moving and that things are happening but like....minor waste of a shadowclan pov. you'd think with how often they like to make references to past events, sunbeam being a shadowclan cat could absolutely come in handy in this situation (considering they once had nightheart explain shadowclan history to a shadowclan cat) but when she wonders if riverclan can ever repair itself, it really doesn't come up. idk, i guess i think she could've had a more optimistic perspective but ultimately it really isn't the biggest of deals.

uh oh guys something ELSE happened?? wanna know what happens??? well go buy IVYPOOL'S HEART ONLY FOR 25.99 AVAILABLE NOW AT RETAIL OUTLETS CLOSEST TO YOU. BUY NOW BUY NOW BUY NOW BUY NOW. DON'T YOU WANNA KNOW WHERE ICEWING IS GOING???? OOOH BUY OUR BOOKS!

Oooh the Gathering trap is actually good, ignoring how a lot of them get thrown the idiot ball a little bit to make it work. I figured it out quickly (even though this arc loves having shit happen offscreen), it's nice to see some trickery for once! only real drawback is the books once again going "what did splashstar do to riverclan??" as if he's mind controlling them. I'm gonna actually hold out on hope that this is a set up to Frostpaw realizing her Clanmates haven't been mind controlled or whatever, they're doing this because they want to, because splashstar's ideals appeal to them after everything.

it probably won't happen but i wanna hold out hope.

tentatively interested! preparing for status quo disappointment!

[thefloorisbalaclava]

triumvirate [simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader x könig]

▸pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader x könig ▸words: 2,758 ▸warnings: porn without plot, just straight up SMUT [threesome, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, anal play, anal sex, titjob, cumplay, spitting, simon is in charge, spitroasting, aftercare] ▸summary: in a whirlwind of adrenaline and lust, you have a night you won't soon forget

▸a/n: i wish i had some deep explanation for why i wrote this, but i don't. this is extremely self-indulgent, but if someone else out there enjoys it then it's a win-win.

[masterlist]

How had it begun? How had it ended up here? What do they call it when your adrenaline pumps after doing something wild?

Getting one’s blood up is all you can think of, but you don’t think that’s right. It’s not like you have any time to think about it—not when you are caught in a flurry of discarded dirty boots, and tac vests thrown and forgotten in some corner. Not when these two men stand before you, undressing you with their eyes.

They both wear masks—one wears a balaclava, and the other prefers his sniper hood. One wears the Austrian flag on his sleeve, the other the Union Jack. Those were their differences. Their similarities? Their stature, preference for working alone, and stoicism.

What’s on your sleeve again? You can’t remember. Hell, you can’t even remember your name right now. All you can focus on is how your chest is heaving and how you are ready to give yourself to these two men—your teammates—without a second thought.

“What is it, love?” Simon asks, the balaclava shifting with each movement of his mouth. You stare up into his eyes—pools of ink, no, more like a black hole pulling you in and tearing you apart. The eye black is smeared and fading from the skin around his eyes. Somehow, he seems softer without it, but you know he is still Ghost.

“You are not afraid of us, are you?” König asks, and you shake your head.

“Nervous,” is all you can say.

“You don’t have to,” Simon says soothingly.

“I want to,” you say.

“Can we undress you?” Simon asks, and you nod. He shakes his head, “We’re gonna need words from you tonight, love.”

“Yes, you can undress me,” you say breathlessly.

They both approach you. Anyone else would be terrified to find two tall, broad men charging towards them, but you felt a pull towards them. You stand your ground as their large hands reach out to you. One turns your head, and now you’re looking at Simon. His balaclava is pulled up over his lips.

When did he do that?

He has beautiful lips. So full. And you bet they’re soft, too. He bends to kiss you. Soft lips confirmed. He is such a good kisser—gentle with a hint of need.

Another hand grabs the back of your neck gently and pulls you away. You’re looking into new pair of eyes now. Green? Blue, maybe? You can’t tell in the lighting, but he’s pulling your head towards him as he carefully lifts his sniper hood. He kisses you. His kisses are a little needier than Simon’s, sloppier too, but you like it. A moan escapes him, and you smile inwardly.

“König,” you breathe when he pulls away and he closes his eyes briefly.

“I want to see you,” he says, hands moving quickly to your belt as Simon handles your shirt. Your pants fall to your ankles, and you step out. Simon throws your shirt behind him, leaving you in your underwear.

“Die schöne,” König gasps. You are not sure what it means, but it must be good, judging by the look in his wide eyes.

“What about the two of you?” you ask. You walk over, and Simon follows your every move. He pulls on the hem of his shirt then it is up and off. You work on his belt, and he looks down to watch.

“Come here, König,” you say, and he is at your side in a jiffy. You turn away from Simon for a moment to work on König’s belt. He is breathing heavily, and it makes you worry.

“Are you okay?” you ask, and he nods a few times. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Please don’t,” he huffs.

“Okay.” You pull on his belt and look at Simon, now standing in his boxer briefs…watching.

König fumbles with getting his shirt off while also trying to keep his sniper hood on. Something about the anonymity turns you on.

Simon is not shy about the erection lying against his thigh in his boxer briefs. “See something you like, love?”

“Maybe.”

You look at König again, who is also in boxer briefs, and notice that he can’t hide what is in his underwear either.

“What should we do now?” you ask.

“Lie down,” Simon tells you. He is a man who knows what he wants. “Wait.” He walks to you and reaches around to unclasp your bra. You feel a presence behind you and look up to find König. There’s a smile in his eyes as he traces the waistband of your panties.

“May I?” he asks.

“Yes.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he tucks his fingers into the waistband and pulls down. Instead of letting the panties fall on their own, he lowers himself to slide them down entirely and helps you step out of them.

His face is level with your ass. Suddenly, you feel something slightly wet touch it. When you turn and look down, you see König is pressing a kiss to your behind. He couldn’t resist.

“Now…” Simon grabs your attention, “Lie down.”

You do as you’re told, purposely crawling onto the bed with your ass facing them before rolling onto your back.

“Don’t be a tease.” Simon climbs onto the bed, and König follows. “Tell us, love, what do you like?” Simon asks.

“Uh…” Your mind goes blank.

“I’ll make it easier for you. Would you like to suck my cock while our friend there goes down on you?” he asks.

You nod slowly. “Yes.” A sudden rush of heat moves throughout your body.

“Good,” he rumbles low in his throat. You watch as he pulls down his underwear and springs free. As you expected, he is big with a lovely vein, just begging to be licked. He notices how you stare at him.

“Don’t just look, love.” He moves closer, and you immediately wrap your hand around him. There is a slight sound from him, and when you spit on his cock, he curses lowly. You stroke him a few times before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

“There we go. Fuck. Spread your legs for him,” Simon commands, and your legs fall open. You feel just how broad König is as he pushes his head between your legs, his shoulders pressing your legs even wider. He looks up at you sucking Simon’s cock then sticks his hand under his hood. When he takes it out again, he starts stroking himself. You assume he either licked or spit in his hand.

You can only see König lift his hood slightly before Simon grabs your cheeks to turn your head back to him.

“Don’t get distracted,” he grunts, pushing himself into your mouth deeper. With a hand on your head, he guides you—fast, slow, shallow, deep—it is all up to him.

You discover that he likes to hear you gag and gets you messy, with saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth and chin onto your breasts.

You nearly lose focus again when you feel König’s tongue on you. He gives you slow, tentative licks to see how you react. You whimper around Simon’s cock, and with a glance down, all you can see is König’s head moving between your legs; his hood is hiding everything else from you.

And that turns you on. You can feel him but can’t see him.

His licks become greedier, and the sounds he makes tell you that he is getting just as much pleasure out of it as you are.

Simon thrusts into your mouth, holds you there for a few moments, then pulls out, leaving you sputtering and gasping. Without a preamble, he straddles you, blocking your view of König’s head between your legs.

“Push those tits together,” Simon tells you. You do it quickly, and he slides his cock in between. “Tongue out.”

As he thrusts between your breasts, he makes sure the tip of his cock touches your tongue each time.

König is still between your legs, sucking on your clit as if he is being fed from it. With a cry, you cum, your legs closing around his head. He doesn’t seem to mind because he grabs your thighs and holds them there. When he finally moves from between your legs, he’s breathing heavily; his eyes closed in bliss.

“You taste…so good,” he breathes.

“Can I try something?” you ask Simon.

“What?” He doesn’t stop fucking your tits even as you slip a finger into your mouth to get it wet.

“I know how to make you feel really good,” you tell him before reaching around to get to his ass. You look for any sign you should stop, but he keeps thrusting even as you put your finger against the tight hole. The only thing you hear from him is a grunt as you slowly push your finger in.

“Is that okay?” you ask.

“Mm,” he grunts.

You know you find his spot when he lurches forward and has to grab the headboard for balance.

“What the fuck?” he gasps. You move your finger back and forth over the spot, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Sh-Shit,” he groans.

König slowly makes his way up the bed and kneels close to your head.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” you ask, and he nods. He holds it for you as you slide your mouth around him. You moan around him, and his hands move to your head.

“Good multitasker you are,” Simon comments. “All right, all right. Stop,” he says. “That’s not how I wanna cum.”

He goes silent, watching how you suck König’s dick. Then you feel another hand on your head and realize Simon is guiding you along with König.

“Don’t be afraid to get deeper, mate. She can handle it, can’t you, love?”

“Mm mm,” you affirm.

“See?” He moves his hand away and gently turns you onto your stomach, making you adjust how you are sucking König off.

You feel Simon grab your ass, playing with the cheeks before spreading them apart and spitting between them. He does it twice more, then spreads it around your tight hole.

“Look at it, clenching around nothing. You want something in there?” he asks. Before you can pull off König to respond, he pulls himself out of your mouth. He seems fascinated by what Simon is going to do to your ass.

“Yes,” you whimper, throat raw.

“You hear that? She wants something in there.” He presses his finger against the tight ring of muscle, and you relax for him. “Oh, good girl. Greedy little hole.”

You turn your head to watch Simon, and your body shifts slightly. König presses a big hand to your lower back to keep you in place while also causing your back to arch more.

“Easy now,” Simon coos as you take more of his finger in your ass. “Something tells me a finger isn’t enough for you.” Both he and König look at you.

“Please,” you beg.

“Up on all fours. Now.” Simon snaps his fingers, and you move quickly. He is still behind you when you look back.

“Tell me you want more,” he says.

“I want more,” you murmur.

“Hmmm,” he sighs before slapping your ass. He ensures you’re watching as he spreads the cheeks and spits again.

When you turn forward again, König is kneeling there, his cock inches from your face.

“Go on,” he urges, placing a hand on the back of your head.

It is a distraction. As you focus on getting his length in your mouth, Simon positions himself behind you. You feel something prodding at your ass, definitely larger than a finger. You whimper around König’s cock.

He pushes in slowly, having to stop now and then. He is overcome by how tight it is and doesn’t want to finish too fast. Once fully seated in your ass, he starts a slow rhythm, a moan rumbling in his chest.

König’s hand is still on your head as Simon’s thrusts push you forward. You gag as a particularly hard thrust forces his cock down your throat. He pulls out to check that you’re okay.

“Mm hm,” you stammer, lips, and chin covered in saliva. He bends to kiss your lips quickly before bringing his cock back to your mouth.

You are being spit-roasted by two masked men, you think. They are not strangers to you, however. One sighs encouragingly sweet words to you in German while the other encourages you in English. The voices start to blend in an unlikely melody. The sound of the headboard hitting the wall keeps the rhythm.

Simon is pumping faster now. Harder. Your eyes roll back as König touches your cheek, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth.

Suddenly, you hear Simon growl, and something warm and wet splatters across your back. He squeezes out every last drop onto you before spreading your cheeks again, admiring how he’s stretched your hole.

König pulls out of your mouth and takes Simon’s place behind you. Instead of your ass, though, he rubs his cock along your pussy before lining himself up and pushing himself in.

“Fuck,” you cry.

His hand starts on your lower back then you feel it slide up. You look over your shoulder and see that he’s rubbing Simon’s cum all over your back.

Simon tilts your head up, so you’re looking at him. “You’re a good girl, huh?” he asks before bending to kiss your lips. He swirls his tongue around your mouth, closing his eyes to your taste. When he pulls away, you whine.

“You like kissing me, love?” He drags his thumb along your chin, wiping away the spit that had dripped down your chin earlier when König had his cock in your mouth.

König is loud behind you—grunting and groaning with each thrust, mumbling things you do not understand, but they still turn you on. Simon slides his hand under you and between your legs, finding your clit with ease. He rubs in small, firm circles.

“Gonna…cum,” you cry.

“Good,” both men say in unison.

“You feel her walls clenching around you?” Simon asks König.

“Yes,” he grunts, thrusting into you faster, his balls slapping against your pussy as Simon plays with your clit. Your eyes roll back as you reach back to press your hand against König’s stomach. It’s a plea for help and a silent way of telling him not to stop. König grabs your hand roughly but then laces his fingers with yours in such a loving way, even while doing something carnal.

Your mouth drops open silently at first, and then you let out a long, loud moan followed by whimpers when the man behind does not stop. You’re his fuck toy now. He’s using you to get himself off.

You fall onto your forearms, but Simon holds onto you and puts a hand on your neck.

“Just a little more. You can handle it, can’t you?” he asks, and you nod with tears in your eyes.

“Feels…good,” you cry. “Gonna cum again.”

“That’s my girl.” Simon kisses you deeply, swallowing your moans and whimpers, then presses his forehead to yours. “Take it,” he whispers.

“Fffffffuck!” You’re cumming again, nearly collapsing onto Simon.

“Here it comes,” König exclaims before pulling out of you and finishing on your ass and pussy. He uses his fingers to push some inside of you.

“You are like a work of art,” he tells you, rubbing your ass soothingly. You can only speak gibberish in response.

“Easy, girl.” Simon lowers you to the bed, lying you flat on your stomach. He stays close to you, petting your head as König walks to the bathroom to find something to clean you up with. He throws a washcloth to Simon, who uses his to clean your face.

“Head up, love. Look at me,” he says, tucking his fingers under your chin to help. “There you are.” He wipes your face gently and then kisses you before pulling his balaclava back down.

König takes care of your ass and pussy, ensuring he is careful but thorough. Simon wipes your back down.

“Is she okay?” König asks.

“Right as rain,” Simon answers, petting your head again. “Right, love?”

“Yes.” You give him a weak smile, and he gives you a wink. “Thank you.”

Both men join you, surrounding you in comfort, safety, and warmth as you drift off.

[myeagleexpert]

【ＨＥ　ＳＡＩＤ　ＴＨＡＴ　ＡＮＤ　Ｉ　ＷＯＮ＇Ｔ　ＦＯＲＧＥＴ　ＩＴ】

You know those important parts where you use the highlighter to highlight something important? So, my dear player, that's what we have here. Some interactions between the characters x yuu and the interactions between them that make me think a lot about the character they are!

Pt1: Heartslabul - Savanaclaw - Octavielle ( You're here!)

Pt2: Scarabia - Igynia - Pomefiore - Diasonia ( Loading...)

Wₕₐₜ ₐᵣₑ yₒᵤ dₒᵢₙg ₕₑᵣₑ? ₜₕₑ Qᵤₑₑₙ wᵢₗₗ cᵤₜ ��ff yₒᵤᵣ ₕₑₐd!

"Trey enthusiastically said he’s going to bake a strawberry tart for my birthday party. Make sure you come to eat some too. …Well, it not like it’s a Rule of the Queen of Hearts or anything"- Birtday Union

"Thank you for coming to celebrate my birthday. …Eh? You’ve hidden my present somewhere in the Heartslabyul dormitory? I see now. The answer to the riddle on this card must reveal the location of the present. Heh, you’ve sure come up with something rather interesting. Well, since you’ve gone through the trouble of planning this for me, I suppose I’ll just have to play along."- Birtday Union

"You are as energetic as ever today, I see. No, this isn’t any sort of rebuke. I truly do hope to see you enjoying my birthday party to the fullest."- Birthday Union

((he deserves to have more light and fun moments, and eat lots of strawberry pies))

"Don't worry, if you get lost, I'll come searching for you. I'm pretty used to looking after my siblings, so I'm sure I'll find you quickly."- Playfull Dress

"Thanks for celebrating my birthday. But I have to say, I wasn't expecting you to have my gift delivered to my dorm like that. You should have just handed it to me directly, since we were meeting up, anyway. Was I shocked? Well, yes... Ah, so it was supposed to be a surprise present! Haha, oh man. You're always finding ways to startle me."- Platinum Jacket

"Riddle’s got a pretty tight handle on everything, there’s not much for me to do as his Vice Dorm Leader. I’m basically just here as decoration." - Cerimonial Robes

"You want to take a picture of me? You’re the record keeper, so just do as you like. …It’s more nerve-wracking if you know you’re being watched, you know?"- Outdoor wear

"Oh, good timing. Help me carry these dishes. Of course, there’s some for you and grim too."- Outdoor Wear

"Hm, you want a scarf? Well... Oh, maybe if I ask Sam, he can lend you a spare one. Just wait a sec."- New Year Attire

"Do you have any plans for the winter this year? If not, what if you got a temp job at a cake shop...? Haha, I'm just kidding."- New Year Attire

((he's so big brother material, I love these little moments of him being so attentive))

"Amusement parks are so rad～! Why don't we take a selfie together right here at the gate? Think of it as the first of many to remember today!"- Playfull Dress

"Oh hey, think you'd want any popcorn? If so, tell me your favorite flavor. Your boy Cay-kun'll get it for you."- Playfull Dress

"Thanks for coming to celebrate my birthday! I’m super stoked! You’re gonna give me whatever I want for my birthday? Well, if you say that… it might make me want to ask for something huge. I’m kidding, don’t worry! How about we go skateboarding together? We can do some sweet tricks and post some pictures online!"- Birthday Union

" “#Birthday #NRCUnionJacket #SpecialMadeForCay-kun” …You know I totally gotta brag about today’s special outfit!"- Birthday Union

" Why are you looking at me like that while petting the tsum? You’re making Cay-kun feel so conflicted～"- Tsum Event

"Pfft, your hair is all over the place from all the wind. Sooo laaame… Eh, mine, too!?"- Playfull Dress

"The whole point of birthdays is definitely the presents. So what did you get your dearest friend Ace-kun, then?"- Birthday Bloom

"I’m good with not dating anyone yet. 'Sides, I’m already busy looking after you lot."-Suitor Suit

"A word of warning. Until I say it’s safe to, deeefinately don’t look up at the ceiling… Juuuust kidding! Haha, did that scare you?"- Halloween

"The basketball club's most promising rookie has arrived! You better not take your eyes off my fresh plays, 'kay?"- Club Wear ((He's a little shit, but I'd root for him in the front row))

"Practicing passes with Floyd is basically a matter of life and death. But that's 'cause he's always throwing them at breakneck speeds!"-Club Wear

"Hey, we should all play basketball together sometime soon. If we invite Deuce or whoever, we can probably get a 3-on-3 game goin'.-" Club Wear

"Are you going to come cheer for me at my next track meet? Then, I definitely can't do anything uncool. Just you wait and see how I do!"- Club wear

"You want me to show you the awards I've gotten from my track meets? You bet! I was hoping I'd get to show you."- Club Wear

"I bet if you, me, and Grim just go ham talking about all that happened today when we get back to school… Ace’ll get crazy jealous."- Rabbit wear

"I think I was able to help my mom feel a bit of relief. And that’s because you all came with me, so, thanks."- Rabbit wear

"I can’t believe you’re here to wish me a happy birthday… Today’s such an amazing day. …Oh, shoot. I definitely have some kind of weird look on my face right now, don’t I? Sorry, I just got so happy I couldn’t help this wide grin. Anyway, thanks so much, Prefect! I’ll make sure to keep doing my best to be someone deserving of your celebrations!"-Birthday Union

((he is my good little boy, I love him, Deuce you live in my heart))

​🇹​​🇴​​🇳​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​​🇹​, ​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇬​​🇷​​🇪​​🇦​​🇹​ ​🇯​​🇺​​🇳​​🇬​​🇱​​🇪​, ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇸​​🇱​​🇪​​🇪​​🇵​​🇸

"They got bone-in meat to eat right there, and you still order the salad. And that's why you're a herbivore."- Playfull Dress

"You don't have to call my name over and over again, I hear you. I'm just staying silent so I don't ruin all your amusement park excitement."- Playfull Dress ((Are we going to delude ourselves and dream that he was admiring us the whole time? Yes))

"A horror attraction? Sure, I'll tag along with you for that, 'cause I bet I'll get to hear some good screams from you herbivores."- Playfull Dress

"You have my utmost gratitude for such a splendid celebration. …There, I thanked you. I’m not saying it again."- Birtday Boy

"You want to make me happy? Hahah! What fine intentions coming from a herbivore. I’m looking forward to it."- Birthday Boy

"Sneaking up behind me like that, were you attempting to surprise me? Aah, my bad. I’ll pretend I didn’t notice, so go on, continue."- Birthday Boy

"You’re just going to carry drinks around and not even toast with me? Hey, bring a glass for yourself too."- Birtday Boy

"Did this sword catch your eye? The motif of the hilt seems to be a jellyfish. I can let you borrow it, but don’t swing it around."- Halloween ((Would you also have a jar of dirt too? Asking a friend))

"You can’t trust someone who smiles all the time, like Jade. Usually guys like me end up being the more trustworthy ones, you know?"- Halloween

"Doesn’t matter who the opponent is. The only one deserving a win is me"- Beastly Garb

"Magic is strictly forbidden in Catch the Tail. Maybe I’ll train you up for the next one… I kid, this ain’t ever happening again."- Beastly Garb

"Back home, there were a ton of people who took issue with my sense of fashion. You wouldn’t do that to me, hmm?"- Gala Couture

"The rich folks from the Scalding Sands are much richer than royal families in other countries. If you want to butter someone up, you’d have better luck with Kalim"- Gala Couture

"Well, aren’t you super meticulous on something as simple as a cake cutting. I don’t really care how you do it, but just get it done before tomorrow comes."- Blooming Birthday

" I had Cater delete all the pictures he took. Obviously, I asked him nicely. Yeah, that’s right, I’m such a shy boy."- Blooming Birthday

"If you’re going to act all high and mighty, I’m going to expect something grand from you, y'know? So hurry up and bring out my present, already."- Blooming Birthday

"Wouldn’t ya believe it, Vil gave me a sewing kit. Something this special deserves to be shoved in the far back of a drawer for posterity."- Blooming Birthday

"If it’s survival, leave it to me! My experience is different from all the other guys."- Outdoor Wear

" You wanna know the trick to fishing? Hmmー …How ‘bout I trade you for those nuts you’ve got in your hand?"- Outdoor Wear ((What nuts? THESENUT--))

"Grim-kun stole your food? Guess it can’t be helped, here, I’ll share my grilled fish with you. Now you owe me one! Shishishi〜"- Outdoor Wear

"Shishishi, you totally remembered my birthday, right?"- Union Birthday ((It's marked on my calendar, my hyena))

"Thanks for celebratin’ my birthday with me! Since it’s my big day, we should go grab some grub and… Ah! Oh noooooo, this is sooooo terrible, I forgot my wallet… I guess I can’t buy… Eh, you’ll treat me? Really? Maan, it’s really great having such a generous junior like you! C'mon, let’s go, let’s go. Shishishi～" - Union Birthday

"Can’t believe a talkin’ portrait wished me a happy birthday… ’S not something I woulda ever been able to imagine happenin’ to me while I lived in the slums."- Union Birthday

"The guys in the magical shift club gave me some powdered sports drinks. I love gettin’ practical gifts like that!"- Union Birthday

" If you’re gonna come check out our practice, make sure you bring us refreshments! Like sports drinks, nutritional jelly drinks, or even doughnuts!"- Club Wear

"My nickname “Disc Thief” is pretty well-known, so maybe I might get scouted by some pro team with their eye on me… Nah, that’d be too good to be true."- - Club Wear

"We can hear Leona’s voice pretty good even when we got noisy spectators durin’ a game. Guess lions just got a healthier roar to ‘em." - Club Wear

"Even if you can’t use magic, you can still join our club. We got a ton of stuff for a manager to get done!" - Club Wear

(Leona simps… do you think his snores are loud too? And during… NO I DIDN'T THINK ABOUT THAT)

"Hey, are you here to celebrate my birthday? Thanks for coming all this... Wait, you just wanted me to show you my homework? Do you own homework! Geez, don't mislead me like that... ...What is this box? Is it a present? O-Oh. Then, I'll gladly take it... Hey, you didn't do all this just to get a kick out of how I'd react, right?" -Platinum Jacket

"Ah, you wasted no time in coming. …You’re not scheming to horseplay around on my birthday, are you?" - Union Bithday

"You want me to take a picture of in this outfit and send it to my family? …Well, I guess that’s fine. Th-Then… please take one for me." - Union Bithday

"Thanks for the birthday wishes. …Something I hope for in the coming year? I want to grow some more. Eh? I’m already big enough? …I’m not talking about my height! I mean I want to mature more. Whenever you’re around I end up feeling so dazed. It must mean I’m relaxed around you. Thanks." - Union Bithday

((i mean… he's already our big boy… I hope the wolf form grows bigger and bigger too, my cute puppy))

((I feel like Yuu feels lighter and more playful around Jack, to the point of making pranks and having fun together <3))

ɐɐǝs ǝɥʇ ɹǝpu∩ ɐɐǝs ǝɥʇ ɹǝpu∩

"Oh my, I see how your eye shines so... If you've taken a liking to that painting, I shall order a reproduction for you. At a discounted price, of course." - Platinum Jacket

"Young love is wonderful. There is no end to the troubles that come from it, so it's quite a favorable emotion for those of us who impart counsel." - Platinum Jacket

"Laying out on the beach to watch the sunset is actually rather lovely, isn't it?"- Beach Wear

" The water around this island is unbelievably delightful. The water is warm and there are no predators. It is a far cry from my hometow."-Beach Wear

"If I were to describe the Coral Sea in one word, it would be "vast." If you ever decide to visit for a vacation, you may come to regret it. "- Beach Wear

"What could you possibly... ...Oh, it's you. I thought it may have been Stitch-san coming to pester me once again."- Beach Wear

"You may leave it to me to lead us in this dance. Allow me to show you just how much effort I've put forth."-Masquerade Dress

"You wish me to take your picture? Of course, I don't mind whatsoever. Now, what should I ask for in return?"- Masquerade Dress

"Oh, my, are you sharing your pastries with me? I would be elated to take some off your hands. It is rather nice that I can try so many in smaller portions."-Masquerade Dress

" What is it? Eh, oh, I look good in this outfit? ...Fufufu, whatever are you scheming? Please, do tell."-Masquerade Dress

"Jade poured this tea as his gift to me. Only... He had this strangely good-natured smile on his face as he did so. ...Would you care to drink it?"- Bloom Birthday ( you littl-)

"I don't understand why candles are inserted into the cake... Sure, it's lovely to see the flames dance in the dark, but it ruins the cake's presentation when it comes time to eat it." -Bloom Birthday

"Something I would like? ...Then, please sing a birthday song for me. Come, you'll sing for me, won't you?"-Bloom Birthday

"Azul can grant any wish," they say. ...Would you like to see if the rumors are true?- Ceremonial Wear

and this duo dialogue? BOYYY

Azul: I am so honored to be paired with you, Jamil-san.

Jamil: Get moving instead of just flapping your lips, Azul.

(suck this up octoponk)

"Down in the ocean depths, the Sea Witch's favorite lipstick is very popular. The container is even shaped like a seashell... I recall gifting it to my mother once, as well."- New Year ((I have a wish for my birthday present, and I think you do too))

 "Do go on, Tsum-san, do whatever you please. It's alright, I shall be watching over you."- Tsumsitter ((Go ahead little creature, spread chaos, I'll be admiring your work))

"Allow me to show you how wonderous the mountains truly are. I do so hope that you will want to join the Mountain Lovers Club afterwards."- Outdoor Wear

"I brought along a very large backpack, but it is mostly empty. That is so that I will be able to bring home some of the nature's bounty as souvenirs."- Outdoor Wear

"It is more crucial to use your intellect when it comes to potionology, rather than magic. Since you have no magical abilities, don't you think this would be the perfect subject for you?"- Lab Wear

"Could you tell me your favorite dish? It may be a good addition for the Mostro Lounge menu."- Lab Wear

"Have you ever heard the phrase "haste makes waste"? ...Never mind, how foolish of me to ask."- Lab Wear

"In the Mountain Lovers Club I founded, we study the flora that we've collected. ...Oh, does this pique your interest?""- Lab Wear

"May I help you? ...I'm afraid it is somewhat difficult to continue exercising when you're staring at me so intensely."- Pe Education

"You are quite... No, nevermind. You do realize that courage and recklessness are two different things entirely, yes?"- Pe Education

"You wish to climb Moln Mountain? I understand how you must feel, but... Snowy mountains are quite dangerous. It may be better for you to build up your climbing experience little by little first."- Apple Boa

((I don't know about you, but Jade's sentences wander from a nice person to someone suspicious)) ((Do you want to know something? Everything that comes out of his mouth is a trap, suspicious as hell))

"Here, Shrimpy-chan, you can have my fries. Nah, you don't gotta thank me. I just couldn't finish 'em 'cause I just slathered something spicy all over it." - Playfull Dress

" Y'know, I really like big and hefty shoes like these～ I love the way they make big, strong stompy sounds when I walk～" - Playfull Dress

"My shoes and jacket sparkles just like scales! Humans have it so good～ They can just swap up their scales whenever they want just by changing clothes." - Platinum Jacket

Beach Wear Vignette - Dialogue

Floyd: 'Cause, I mean, if someone tells you not to do something, doesn't it just make you want to do it more?

Stitch: Yahahahaha!

Floyd: My pops and mama always told us that it was dangerous for us kids to go by ourselves, so we shouldn't go near it.

Stitch: Grrr, rargh!

Floyd: Hmm? Oh, it's nothing like that. That whole thing where the humans and merfolk were afraid of each other is stuff from a long, long time ago.

Floyd: Folks've been comin' and goin' between the land and sea for a while now, ever since the mermaid princess married that human prince.

"Aha. I'm all ready to go, but is the party ready for me?"- Bloom Birthday ((Chaotic child detected))

"Ah, hey, it's Koebi-chan. So you're gonna give me whatever I want as a present? Then, tell me a fun story you know from up here on the surface. ...What, you weren't expecting me to ask for somethin' intangible? I mean, this is waaay better than getting somethin' I don't need. But I ain't gonna let it slide if you tell me a boring story. Mmkay, you can go ahead and start now～"-Bloom Birthday

"Maaan, passing practice is so boring 'cause it's too easy. Koebi-chan, wanna play 1 on 1 with me? I'll go a little bit easy on you"- Club Wear

"Hm, I don't see your mouth watering. You saying my food tastes bad?"- Apprentice Chef

"I make a ton of grilled sandwiches. I ain't got a recipe or anything. Just toss in some leftovers and grill 'em and you're done."- Apprentice Chef

"Jade'll put shiitake mushrooms in pretty much anything, so I got to the point that just lookin' at 'em pisses me off."- Apprentice Chef

" You make real great-lookin' faces when you're eating, Shrimpy. Didja like my cooking? 'Kay, then next time, I'll make you something even better."- Apprentice Chef (( PLEASE DO ))

" Next time, you should go up on stage, Koebi-chan. I'll be expectin' a fun show."- Port Wear

" Ehhh, my ribbon's crooked? I don't have a mirror, so I can't see it... Shrimpy-chan, why don'tcha fix it nicely for me?"- Platinum Jacket

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

[inktog]

Came for the Yuri, Stayed for the UBI

(assorted thoughts)

When I Win the World Ends is a delightful enough read for the dynamic between its protagonists: valley girl empath X repressed misanthropic hermit. And they were rivals—oh my god they were rivals.

—

If you root around in my brain long enough you will find a thin file labeled "Ideas for a slightly grittier, more realistic Pokemon world." I suspect many fans have their own version of this file. I particularly enjoyed Bavitz's because Bavitz runs with the prompt in exactly the opposite direction you'd expect from a video game adaptation—leaning into the numbers and crunch. It reminds me of glowfic, the way it doesn't just take seriously, but also rationalizes and extrapolates from a system not designed for such scrutiny.

To give a concrete example:

The thirty-second pause between turns in this fun little game called Pokémon battling wasn't just to give trainers time to think and announcers time to announce. The regimented structure mandated discipline from the Pokémon, which in turn ensured they didn't go, like, feral from bloodlust. If Scizor had its way, it wouldn't stop after one attack, but Dad did train these guys well.

I dunno, I just think it's neat! I similarly appreciated the in-universe explanations for the retroactive Fairy typing and for every generation introducing a new gimmick™.

—

I want to be careful here, because WIW leaves open the specifics of its economic and geopolitical worldbuilding. We don't know how far the peace and plenty experienced by our characters actually extends—clearly not everywhere.

And yet I am drawn to the most charitable interpretation of Bavitz's Pokemon world: that despite its fits and starts, its broken promises and secret wars, it is actually, meaningfully better in some ways than the real world. The emergent pseudo-utopian themes—

How do you spend your life when the world is basically pretty okay? When humanity's worst instincts have been sublimated into sport? When it feels like history has come to a standstill?

—are hands-down my favorite aspect of this fic, and the reason I expect to keep coming back to it. It's an inspired union of setting and theme: the bright, smiling, play-violence Pokemon universe as a glimpse into restless abundance.

—

When I Win, The World Ends. For RISE it's literal. For her competitors it's the death of meaning—what a sham if Aracely Sosa sweeps it with her daddy's Pokemon. But for Cely herself it's a promise:

Become the most special person in history

Quit while you're ahead.

When I Lose, The World Keeps Turning.

[hamsternella]

Unrequited ━ V (V for Vendetta) x Reader

tw: v being obsessed, unrequited love, obsession, murder, non-con kissing, non-con touching, angst, this is something I wrote in -like- a really short time, plus english is not my first language- sorry

Terrifying. If I had to use one word to describe V, it would be 'terrifying'. He was tall, always dressed in black; with the mask of an icy smile, drawn like a deep cut on the white surface. He was the image of an idea, not even of a human, and yet I had come to like him even a little. It wasn't impossible to love him; it was just complicated. We would coincide in mundane situations as one who shares a special moment with a friend, we would look into each other's eyes -or where I thought he would have them- and we would extend the same hand to seal a pact. An implicit agreement that implied union, loyalty and affection. I considered V as part of my family; even if for him that term was alien to his principles, and therefore incompatible with his nature.

Betrayal, unfortunately, never comes from the enemy.

The Gallery of Shadows was awash with a soft melody. I had to maneuver the jukebox to reduce the words to a murmur, until I hit the echo of footsteps that were alien to the song. A new melody; a particular rhythm. When I turned around, V was standing in front of me.

''What brings you here, dear friend?'' he asked with strange tension in his voice, ''I thought you'd be busy tonight?''

I hid my hands in my pants pockets. I hid the trembling to my fingertips, the fear.

''No, not tonight,'' I replied. ''I find greater joy in sharing a moment with you, as usual.''

''But we have not shared such moments, I'm afraid. You have found so-called joy elsewhere, have you?''

''I live my life, V. Although I understand that for you such a thing is impossible, considering the events.'' I let out a sigh. The taste of a coffee candy I had eaten hours ago was still occupying my throat. ''May I know what you've been doing two days ago?''

''I don't like your tone; I don't understand what you mean by this.'' V stretched out both arms for a moment, admiring the gallery like someone presenting a play on stage. ''I have swum among books, enjoyed good movies, and even indulged in lonely nights, in the moonlight and the murmur of hidden maces… as is usual for me.''

He shrugged one of his hands into a fist, delicately superimposed on his chest. A barely noticeable bow shook a couple of hairs above his mask. I gritted my teeth.

''Why? What is the reason for this question? What's more, do you seem a bit upset?''

''Not at all,'' I replied dryly. I held back the fury, intermingled with fear; confusion eating at my insides. ''It's just that yesterday… let's say, a somewhat interesting story came to me. Well; a rumor, more like.''

''A rumor. What kind of rumor?''

''I don't want to play theater anymore,'' I whispered. ''Tell me, V. Please tell me you didn't do it.''

''I can't deny something I don't know, my dear. What kind of rumor?'' he repeated approaching me.

Not a scent, not even the remnant of a perfumed essence like that which comes from the flesh. It was like a shadow, he moved, felt and expressed like a concept. He was an idea, not a person; he didn't have the qualities of a human related to his nature. I had to remind myself of this every day to prevent something like this from happening-but it did. It was happening. And as he came closer to me; as one of his hands ran gloved fingers along the contours of my face, following the path of the tears, wiping them away, I found myself once again surrendered to fear. To doubt, and terror, and sadness.

V was a reminder of the faces of a sleeping society that I refused to face all the time. He was molded for it; I had to get used to it, give up pieces of myself, renew myself; belong to a section of that darkness that so characterized him.

I humanized the beast, and another paid the consequences of his hunger.

I couldn't pull away from his hand, and I could only keep my head fixed in one direction: the hollow of his eyes.

''I don't have to acknowledge your crimes,'' I continued in a whisper. ''I may know of them, but it is not in my judgment to determine their validity. I am not God; I do not come from a divine court. But V, this… this thing you have done is not right.''

''You're feeling terrified, dear,'' his voice darkened, losing itself in a hoarse sound. Danger. The truth was scary. ''What are you afraid of, if it's you and me in this room? It's been us against a system, and I don't think that's what you're afraid of right now.''

"Don't ignore me… Don't fucking ignore me, V.''

My body reacted on its own, but his hands rushed to my arms, clinging to them, bringing my body to an even greater state of alertness than before. His fingers caressed my skin over the fabric of my shirt, bristling my flesh. We were almost glued together, body against body; our breaths gently altered, increasing in rhythm little by little.

''Yes,'' he whispered, ''it was me. I killed him.''

''Oh, God!'' I burst into tears. Had I been on my own I would have fallen to the ground, but V kept me standing. ''Why… why, V. I can't… I don't want to believe it, I- God…''

His arms went around my body, forcing me to arch my back. My hands fell on his chest, where I hid my face flooded with tears. His hands tangled in my hair, tracing a back-and-forth motion down my back; they sought to shelter my pain in a false sense of protection.

''But I was good,'' he continued, his voice descending to an almost desperate pitch. ''He felt no pain, though I wanted, God, how I wanted him to realize it; to look me in the eye, to feel the same despair I felt…''

''You are a sadist!'' I pounded his chest with my hands made into fists. I pushed him, I screamed at him, I drowned in hot tears. ''What kind of desperation? You've killed an innocent man in cold blood! You've killed him, you've left a family without their father! V, for God's sake!''

There was a struggle. V tried to keep me glued to him; he struggled to hang onto my neck, my waist, my arms; he gasped in desperation, brutally shaking what was left of me in his arms before I managed to wiggle out of his grip.

''I was merciful. I could have been a monster, but I was good, and I let him sleep.''

''You killed him,'' I spat angrily, ''but you come and dare to stage a pitiful theater where you consider yourself the victim. What did he do to you?''

''Oh, no,'' he laughed; ''not to me. It was to you.'' He took his time to catch his breath. He had to brush away the locks that had fallen over his mask. ''It's embarrassing, I have to admit, but true that I've come to notice how much you've been isolating yourself from our cause. You've disappointed me a little; but I still like you.''

''Do you still like me?'' I repeated with a choked laugh. ''Still? Fuck you, asshole. What do you mean by that, me, away from the cause?''

''It's not that I question your loyalty, don't think that, please. But this little whim had to come to fruition. You could have risked everything.''

''Whim?'' I took a step back, took a breath of air, and when I least expected it I let out a laugh. A hysterical outburst. I had to cover my face for a moment to calm down.

A silence settled between us. It was V who broke it, slightly hesitant.

''Did you love him? Did you love that man?''

''Of course I loved him!'' I let out a cry, shedding a torrent of tears, silent this time. ''V, I haven't committed any crime. I… I just wanted to try, and live, and feel whole and... I don't know, all of this all of a sudden… I don't understand,'' I looked straight at him at the mask. He had his fists clenched on either side of his body. ''I don't understand what I did to deserve your mistreatment; this way of punishing an innocent, even.''

''I couldn't stand it. Every man has a limit.''

''You are no man, V; you are a monster,'' I said. ''You have robbed a father of his family, a noble man of his own life. You have robbed him…''

''He stole you from me!'' he interrupted me. His voice bounced like an echo in the distance, barely audible. ''I saw you first; I gave you a reason- a reason to live. We were supposed to be companions, something beyond such a banality as… that.''

''A banality, like what? Huh?'' I walked up to him, hitting his chest with my fist. ''What a banality you say! Is it love, is that it? Is it your envy? What is it, V? What's the bullshit reason for you to ruin people's lives, thinking you're an out-of-touch hero.''

His hand flew to my face, cupping it by the cheeks. He had taken me by surprise and the force was so great, the pain stabbing into my flesh, that I was left only to hang on to his arm.

''You're not mine,'' he whispered, the voice raspy, ''but I like to imagine that you are. And it's hard when you're fluttered with petty reasons. Yes, what I did wasn't right; but having you by my side feels like something that's right, and that's enough.''

''You're making me hate you, V,'' I said haltingly.

''I'm glad to know that I can still awaken in you the feelings that really matter.'' He fell silent. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something, still holding my cheeks. ''I love you.''

I closed my eyes, completely surrendered. My arms fell limp and my heart stopped. What I suspected with a terror crackling in the corner of my mind was suddenly a painfully palpable reality. In front of me, V; with his feelings and the mask of a smile suspended in the icy material. V and the words embedded in my ears like his fingers to the flesh of my face.

''I love you,'' he said again. ''I love you, my dear.''

''Stop,'' I begged. My voice sounded like a sigh. "Shut your mouth. Don't say it anymore.''

The pain eased as his fingers released my cheeks, both of his hands cupping my face gently; his body clinging to me, his hips pushing against mine. My back hit a wall when we had no room to spare, but he didn't stop. The coldness of his mask brushed my lips, and all I had left to do was close my eyes. The impact was soft; and the kiss, almost nonexistent. The simulation of a creature trying to imitate something human; unbecoming, then, of himself.

My first kiss in years lasted as long as a sigh. I didn't remember the flesh being so hard and lacking that particular flavor. I felt miserable just looking back and finding nothing but empty, hollow eyes. The same smile. I hated it.

''You don't love me,'' I whispered.

''I really think I do.''

''This is not love. You're taking over something you think is yours, V.'' I held back a shudder as one of his hands brushed my neck. ''I don't love you.''

Silence. Suddenly a murmur, very faint, and it was our feet. My body fell over his; the cold of his mask against the side of my face, his arms around me. A half-hearted embrace. I felt his heart, but I couldn't find my own.

I closed my eyes when I felt the tremor. It was him.

''I know,'' he replied.

[cowgurrrl]

Okay this is very random but I recently discovered a song called “Dangerous Hands” by Austin Giorgio and for some reason I imagine rockstar!Joel having actress!reader be featured in the song and the music video like soon after they get back together and the music video is like the big announcement that they’re back together and idk I just love that so much! If you enjoy the song I think that would be a super fun story, can’t wait for the proposal/wedding content for OFTM though!!

Sorry this took literally so long but the wedding content for OFTM is coming soon!! I’m writing it now but I hope you enjoy how this came out 🥸

Thank God I Found You

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: this ask

Warnings: none! Just fluff :-)

"Do you know how many other actresses there are in Los Angeles?" You ask, and Joel groans from his place on the couch. Daisy runs toward him, thinking he's in trouble, and you laugh when she lands on his chest. 

"But why would I hire someone else when I could hire you?" He asks, his voice a little strained with the forty-pound pitbull on his chest, as you perch on the back of the couch to look down at him. 

"Because nobody except for our families knows we're back together." You say, petting Daisy. She leans into your hand and slumps against the cushion with an overdramatic harumph, making both of you laugh. 

It's been almost six months since you and Joel got back together, and somehow, nobody knows. You've managed to keep it under wraps with strategic NDAs, at-home date nights, and keeping each other off social media. It's been peaceful getting to reconnect without public eyes on you, and you want to keep it that way for as long as possible. However, it's been getting harder and harder to keep it a secret. It's exhausting always waiting for someone to talk to a news outlet or for one of you to slip up on social media or in an interview.

Joel planning a music video for "The Yellow Subway" has brought all those feelings to the forefront. He wants you to star in it, playing yourself, considering how the entire album is about you. He's even talked about paying you, ensuring it's union work, basically giving you any and every incentive possible to get you to do this. Still, you're hesitant. Ever since your last Shakespeare in the Park in New York, you've vowed never to work with another partner again. It's been seven years, and you know Joel would never do anything close to what your last boyfriend did, but there's still that fear.

"This could be how we tell everyone," he suggests. "Could be kinda cool." You take a deep breath and slide your hand from under Daisy's head to play with Joel's hair. He puts a hand on your hip, and his thumb kneads circles into the muscle. 

"I read the script." You admit quietly, and he raises his eyebrows.

"You did?" He asks, and you nod. "What'd ya think?"

"I thought it was familiar," you say, and he laughs. It's true. It's basically a visual retelling of your time in New York, and it wouldn't be hard to trace the timeline, lyrics, and story to you. The song is also named after the yellow Q Train you took from Hell's Kitchen back to the Upper East Side. "But I also thought it was really, really beautiful." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"So, what can I do to get you to do this?" He asks softly, adding a little more pressure to your hip, and you sigh. "A million dollars? A trip to Bora Bora? Sex every day for a year?" He lists, making you laugh. You occupy your mind by tucking a curl behind his ear and focusing on his touch.

"You really don't think going public will change anything between us?" You ask, and he sits up, agitating Daisy enough to make her get up and walk over to her bed. 

"Do you think it'll change anythin'?" 

"I don't know. We were public before, but that was different. It wasn't on our terms. We were literally forced to be seen out together," you shrug. "And I kinda like our little bubble. It's quiet. It's just for us. We've never had that before." You say, and he nods. You swing your legs over the edge of the couch and slide into his lap, your mind still whirring with thoughts as you straddle him. It's not that you don't want to share your love with the world. It's that the world got pieces of you before he did, and vice versa. But you also don't want to always be looking over your shoulder for sneaky paparazzi and nosy fans. If you're going to go public, you want it to be on your terms. 

"If you don't wanna do this, you don't have to. We can… keep our bubble for a little bit longer." Joel says as he kisses your cheek.

"But then you won't have an actor for your video."

"A little birdie told me there are a lot of actresses in Los Angeles lookin' for work," he teases. "I want you to feel safe and comfortable for as long as possible. If that means keepin' things quiet for a little while longer, that's fine. I just care about makin' sure you're happy." 

"How are you so perfect?" You ask, and he laughs.

"Could ask you the same thing," he deflects, locking his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest. Daisy snores lightly from the corner of the room, but other than that, the only thing you can hear is his breathing and the ticking of his watch. Everything you see, feel, and smell is Joel. "I love you." He whispers.

"I love you, too." You whisper back as you push his too-long curls out of his face. Then, like time slowed down just for you, Joel brushes his lips against yours and kisses you. You think this is your favorite way to kiss him. So much of your early relationship was about how fast you could get through dates and obligations, and everything went by so quickly that you barely had a chance to catch your breath. Since you've been back, everything's been intentional and slow, like if things pick up too fast, too soon, this will disappear. Slow kisses, movie nights with the girls, pool days with Daisy, holding each other just because you can— all gone in the blink of an eye. You wish you could freeze those moments and replay them forever so you never forget what they looked and felt like. 

"Wait," you say, suddenly pulling away from Joel's lips. He furrows his eyebrows and pouts but doesn't say anything, so your thought doesn't run away. "I have an idea."

For the next three months, you and Joel spend time capturing those quiet, intentional moments of intimacy. He gets clips of you and the girls dancing in the kitchen to an ABBA song while cookies bake in the oven. You get clips of him strumming guitar by the fire pit in his backyard with your legs laid across his lap. At one point, Ellie even picked up the camera and got clips of you two working together to set up your Christmas tree, playing with Daisy in the backyard, and even watching the New Year's Eve fireworks from the balcony. It's a messy, complex, blurry snapshot of your lives, and it's perfect. 

A year to the day since you and Joel got back together, the music video for "The Yellow Subway" premieres as an anniversary present. It opens with Sarah's beautiful cursive handwriting announcing, "A year in the making." Then, as pieces of your shared life play, Joel sings the song he wrote when he thought he would never see you again, let alone get to hold you the way he does in many of the clips. You each post it to your Instagram with pride and only a little bit of (healthy) fear. You caption yours, "To the love of my life, thank you for being patient with me. I will always get coffee with you." Joel captions his, "You're my favorite secret. I love you, pretty girl."

Your posts blow up with comments, reposts, and likes, and the music video surpasses one million views overnight. Neither of you really cares about that. The only thing you care about is the fact that the entire world knows you're back together, and nothing has changed. You still fall asleep in his arms that night and make breakfast together in the morning. 

You're unsure what the next year of your lives will look like, but if it's anything close to you sliding Joel a cup of coffee while he cooks eggs for you and the girls, you think that's pretty damn good.

[nicomundthered]

To Be Hunted

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

warnings: angst with happy ending, animal death briefly mentioned.

summary: from the prompt- Arthur teaching the reader (his girlfriend) to hunt.

word count: 5,217

a/n: repost from ao3.

Masterlist

It was late July, and hot as the fire Uncle just crudely pissed beside. Everyone sat miserably waiting for the scouting party to return. Dutch decided it was best to move camps, needing to be closer to some sort of wealth, so the ‘men of the camp’ were out searching for greener pastures. Or really just some place the gang had yet to tap dry.

You had been riding with said gang for the past eight months. 

After your life didn’t quite end up as you planned, you kinda stuck with the mindset of: this world is rough so you gotta be tough. 

Which really had already built you up too much. In truth you were found walking aimlessly in the Heartlands, after your horse had collapsed, dead. 

If it hadn't been for Arthur being kind enough to take you to the gang, who knows where you’d be by now. 

The fact was nobody gave damn about you, until he found you.

And you’ve enjoyed your stay for the most part. You had food, a place to sleep, and probably the most beneficial you had constant protection. However, you didn’t want to sound ungrateful or spoiled or anything, but Dutch was very protective of the ladies, and did not want them involved with much of anything. A little pickpocketing here, a little playing a damsel in distress there. But that was really it. 

As a general rule he wanted all of you doing the domestic work, while the men got their hands dirty.

He meant it nobly you supposed, but for a woman like yourself, it didn’t sit right. You missed doing things, and going places. Even if it were risky or out of your comfort zone. You just felt like you could do, and perhaps be more. 

That was all until you started going steady with Arthur. Then little, by little, you had picked up more responsibilities. Small, unimportant things if you looked at the big picture, but better than cleaning Bill’s soiled union suit.

You mainly helped steal livestock. Always late into the night, and always with Arthur by your side. And on the very rarest of occasions you’ve helped with some homestead robberies. They were a little more intense, and you could tell that they made Arthur a nervous wreck. 

He had given you one of his revolvers and had shown you all the basics, but you still weren't great. If practice makes perfect, then how the hell were supposed to learn?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard horses and laid your eyes on Arthur leading the group. His freshly cleaned blue shirt was brown with mud and his coat was missing. 

They hitched their horses, all looking very irritated, and seemed to be avoiding Arthur’s gaze.

“What the hell happened?” You called out while making your way to them, eyes worriedly searching Arthur for injuries. 

“Damn O’driscoll’s.” Arthur stormed past you infuriated. He made his way to his tent and threw his hat onto his bed. Then he kicked the side of his trunk while muttering all kinds of things, then sat down with his hands in his hair, and his elbows resting on his legs.

You were frozen to the spot, not sure what you should or shouldn't do. This was, for sure, uncharted territory. Arthur didn't lose his cool. 

Hosea walked up and stood beside you. “We were ambushed. Those damn Irish bastards somehow knew...If it hadn’t been for his quick thinkin’ I reckon we’d all be dead right about now.” He gently patted your shoulder and left you alone.

Your relationship was still pretty new. You’ve known that you’ve liked him since meeting him but it didn’t get serious until a few weeks ago. 

And boy did it get serious, fast.

At first he seemed reluctant. He liked you, but you had to keep convincing him that you wanted the relationship. And then, after some questioning, and maybe even an ultimatum, he had told you about Mary and the damage that she’d done...and then, then he told you about Isaac. 

You're not saying that you fully understood. You couldn’t, you had never had nor lost a child. But it helped you recognize and understand certain behaviors and tendencies of his. When he’d pull away from you, or why it took him so long to kiss you. Or, sometimes why he needed space. He was, at times, the most self loathing person that you'd ever met. It didn't necessarily hurt your relationship but it did make it, at times very challenging.

It happened the first time, a couple of days after he told you about his son. In a way, the confession freed him. He touched you more, albeit in private, but that was fine by you. 

Then he asked if you wanted to take a trip to Strawberry. 

You were excited, not having left camp in what felt like months. He bought you dinner, and offered to buy you a new outfit, but you declined. You hoped to soon earn your own money and buy your own clothes. He worked too hard for the gang to waste his money on a dress, when people in the camp were hungry.

He was anxious about something, and you weren't sure what it was until he nervously rubbed the back of his neck and stated that it was getting late, and that he could buy a room if you wanted.

You blushed and nodded ‘yes’ that you wanted to stay. He moved so quickly to pay that he almost tripped over his chair.

He grabbed your hand, his palm was uncharacteristically sweaty, and the other couldn’t stop fidgeting with his collar. As he led you up the stairs into the small yet cozy room. 

It was your first time sharing a bed and you were worried it would be awkward. Especially because of how different he was acting.

You both stripped down to your underclothes. He complimented you and told you how beautiful you were. You both got under the covers, you were too worried that you were somehow pressuring him into this. 

But in reality he was just waiting for you to make the next move. 

The room was cold and Arthur was warm, and before either of you knew it you were snuggled closely, drifting off to sleep.

You woke to the sun creeping in from around the dark drapes. Disoriented at first until you felt his strong arms holding you firm against his body. You turned slightly, just enough to look at his face.

He looked so peaceful, something you weren't used to seeing. Dutch was gonna work him to death. And that was the thought that urged you forward. You softly kissed his brow, and then placed one on either side of his slightly parted mouth.

His eyes opened slowly and when they locked with yours, he could no longer hold himself back. His mouth explored, and his full concentration was solely on you. 

The only way to describe that morning was, you, for the first time in your life felt complete. 

Ever since your trip to Strawberry your relationship was different. He had developed an appetite that only you could satisfy. He still wasn't keen on public affection, he just wasn't comfortable with all the wondering eyes. 

So you were the one that insisted on letting the camp know he was yours. It made you proud, and you knew that deep down Arthur was thankful for your boldness. So you’d grab his hand or reach up to kiss him anytime you felt that he needed it, or whenever you did, it didn't matter who it was in front of.

Though, you were still not sharing a tent. You wanted to, but didn’t want to push him into anything he wasn’t ready for. 

That was the imbalance of your relationship. He sometimes wouldn’t talk, and sometimes neither would you.

As you watched him sitting on his cot, you realized that for as long as you've known him, you couldn’t recall ever seeing him like this. You didn’t know what he needed, and you didn’t want to make the wrong move. He truly was fragile. More so than anyone knew, anyone but you.

You slowly walked over to him, his head still hung low. “Arthur, you ok?”

He looked up hesitantly, the untrained eye wouldn't have noticed, but you saw the extra moisture in his eyes.

He plastered on a fake half smile and said “Would you want to go hunting with me tomorrow?”

You were taken aback and felt your eyebrows pinch together. “Arthur?...”

You gasped as he suddenly reached forward and grabbed both of your hands. “I just really think we should go hunting.”

“O..ok. Whatever you want to do tomorrow sounds good to me.” You tried to smile, but you felt it fall flat. Something wasn't right, and you were more than worried about him.

He stood abruptly “Good, we’ll leave first thing in the morning.” He kissed you on the top of your head and pulled you into a fierce hug that almost winded you. Then as quick as it happened, he let go, and walked across the camp to Charles.

You couldn’t sleep. Anxiety found its place in your chest, your breath was short, and your heartbeat felt a few beats quicker. 

The hours ticked by slowly until the moon disappeared and the sun lit the sky a soft pink. 

You sensed his presence and heard his footsteps, before you heard him gently calling your name. You turned over slowly pretending you had just had a good night's sleep.

He looked fully prepared for the day. Hat and coat were already on, and you looked over to your horses only to see that they both were saddled and ready.

“You about ready to go?” 

You stood slowly, feeling probably how you looked, tired. When you studied his features from under the brim of his hat, you noticed that he didn’t look much better.

“Let me change and eat something.”

“Here.” He passed you a can of biscuits. 

You looked at him a little angry at his impatience.

“Stew ain’t done yet, and I want to get out of here before Miss Grimshaw gets mad at me for takin’ ya.”

You nodded accepting both the biscuits and the explanation. 

You wore your favorite outfit. It was a black buttoned up top with dark jeans that you liked to tuck into your black boots. It matched perfectly with your black hat that had a green ribbon around the base. You liked to call it your ‘outlaw’ uniform, because you always wore it when you were ‘outlawing’ (plus it made you feel badass), but Arthur hated that. 

He hated what he felt that he made you into one. He hadn’t though, you would have become one, one way or another, either that or died. It was truly inevitable. 

When you met him at your horses, he looked you up and down, a not so subtle frown on his face. He had grown to hate the outfit. It wasn’t that you didn't look great, it was the implications of it.

“I don’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to ruin any of my other clothes.”

He exhaled out of his nose and moved his horse forward, not even waiting for you to mount.

You stroked your horse lovingly, stuck one foot into the stirrups and then swung the other leg over until you were sitting high on his back.

You didn’t rush to catch up to Arthur. If he wanted to ride with you he’d have to slow down to your pace. You were gonna savor every second away from those annoying people you called your family. You weren't going to let his strange mood ruin your fun.

After a few minutes he seemed annoyed that you weren't beside him, so he turned around making a big circle and until you were riding alongside him.

It was then you noticed that he had two bows and what seemed like an excessive amount of arrows. You felt a thrill, more than a little excited to learn something new.

He led you to a spot not too far away from camp, maybe forty five minutes. And if you considered your slow pace, not far at all.

He offered to help you off of your horse, the first sign of your Arthur that you've seen in what felt like a long time. You accepted his hand as he helped you down. 

He smiled at you as his hands naturally found your hips. He looked like he wanted to say something but instead he reached behind him and handed you the bow. “Charles made this for ya.”

“For me?” You looked at the dark wood with little vine-like carvings. “Wow, it's so beautiful.” 

He swallowed thickly, and his eyes wandered not being able to look at you for too long. “You can thank him when we get back”.

“Oh I definitely will. I’ve always wanted my own bow.”

He looked back to you, the same strange expression on his handsome face.

“We’ll follow the sun a bit.” He pulled out his binoculars and looked ahead. “There’s always deer around these parts.”

“Should I be taking notes?” You were trying to poke fun to lighten the dark mood, but either he didn’t hear the humor in your voice, or maybe he didn't think it was funny.

“Nah, you've got a good memory.”

He then taught you how to hide your horses, but to never hitch them. That way they'd be able to come when you whistled. Which was very important when you had a large animal carcass. 

Then he led you, on foot, through some trees, until you came upon an area of dense brush. He crouched and you copied him. 

“Alright. Now I’m gonna teach you about tracking.”

You nodded like the diligent student you were. You liked ‘instructor’ Arthur. He was demanding and intense. It turned you on…

“You even listenin’ to me?”

You blushed and ducked your head. “Of course I am.”

“Then what did I just finish sayin’?” He stood, cocked his hips to the side, and then placed both hands on his gun belt.

You stood and tilted your head in an attempt of defiance.. “You were talkin’ about tracking.”

“What about it?”

After your long pause, he grew slightly frustrated. He took off his hat and pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his face and back of his neck. Then he messed with the fold of his hat before placing it back on his head.

He did the action to calm himself down. You suspected that it stopped him from fussing at you.

“Look, if you ain’t gonna take this seriously…”

“I want to learn.” 

“Ok then.” He went on to explain how to track, and all the things you could find that animals left behind. Fur, droppings, and all kinds of fun stuff like that.

After tracking for a few minutes, he found a trail. He expertly followed it, speaking lowly, but still giving you plenty of pointers along the way.

Then he looked back at you and brought one finger to his lips. You quietly caught up. There were five deer, spread far enough apart to see individually, peacefully grazing on grass.

He whispered so softly you could barely hear him. He explained how to pick the right one to kill. You wanted to make sure it wasn’t sick, or had a fawn nearby. 

He grabbed his bow, briefly showing you how to hold it, grabbed an arrow, and stood. Then he pulled the arrow back with his strong arm, gave a quick whistle, and when the deer looked up he let go. Killing the animal instantly.

The whole process was a bit sad to you. But the way that Arthur handled it, was the most humane way to do it. You needed to eat, the deer was food, and Arthur didn’t let it suffer.

You had never killed anything so seeing the animal laying there was a different experience. You ate animal every time you ate stew, and to eat stew someone had to do the exact thing you had just witnessed. 

It was something that you’d get better at, you’d already felt less squeamish the more you looked at the dead animal. 

“If we come across some more before it gets too late, I’ll teach you how to skin it, and the cleanest way to get its meat.”

Before you could protest the morbid idea, not quite trusting your adjusting stomach to go that far, he whistled loudly and after a few seconds you heard his horse galloping.

He took the arrow out, wiped the blood off, and placed the deer on the back of his horse. You went ahead and whistled for your horse as well, for some reason you wanted them to stay together. Then you both lead them to a secluded area, so you could continue your hunt.

“Ok, this next one is all you.” He gestured for you to take the lead.

You gulped. You had paid attention, you truly did. But having to remember things on the spot made you slightly nervous. That and the fact that Arthur wasn't himself. He was more intimidating and serious and that made you more than a little anxious. You didn't want to disappoint him.

At first you were doing great. After a few minutes of looking for droppings, you had found some, and that made the trail pretty clear. So you followed and followed, until you lost it completely.

He was positive and encouraged you. Afterall, this was your first time doing so. Frankly, he just seemed happy that you’d remembered some of his lessons. 

Then a couple of hours later, you had lost count on how many animal turds you had inspected, you had finally found a small herd.

You smiled back at him, and as he caught up looking at what you'd found, he briefly let a smile escape through whatever was going through his head.

“Now what?” You stood close to him and whispered.

He nodded to your bow, which you pulled out, and went a step ahead and retrieved an arrow as well.

He stood behind you, so close that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. He gently placed your arms where they needed to go pressed his body firmly against yours, pulling the bow back. 

You held your breath as you felt his strong arms guide you, and when you felt his warm-calloused hands grip your hand and then your hip, you couldn’t help it, a little moan escaped as you looked up at him.

Unfortunately for you, this was at the same time he chose to release your arrow. It flew and fell a good ways away from the deer, causing the herd to disperse.

“Goddamnit!” He yelled.

You jumped at the unexpected outburst. 

“Why can’t you just pay attention!?” He threw your bow down and started walking the opposite way, back towards the horses.

You stood frozen for a moment, and tried to understand what had just happened. Then when you were over the initial shock you picked up your bow and followed.

When you caught up you walked backwards so that you were facing him. “What the hell was that Arthur?” You were angry and your voice let it show.

His brows were pinched tightly and the brim of his hat was pushed down lower than usual.

He ignored you, and continued walking with long strides.

“Hey.” He didn’t stop. 

“Hey!” You stopped in front of him, causing him to run into you before he looked up and stopped.

“What?” He had the nerve to grumble at you.

You took a deep breath and calmed down before speaking. “Look, I don’t know what's going on with you…”

“It’s nothin’.” He cut you off sharply.

“Well it's obviously something.” You took off your hat so he could see your expressions more clearly. “I know that I ain’t a natural or nothin’ but you don’t have to treat me like an idiot. This was my first time, and you know that.” 

“You were distracted. You weren’t even paying any attention.” His voice was harsh and absolute. His eyes avoided yours.

“Yeah that's cause this guy who i've been courting had his big strong arms on me.” You said in a southerbell voice, while fanning yourself with your hat dramatically. You regretted it immediately when he didn't even smirk.

“Look I’m not going to apologize that I'm attracted to you.” You took a step forward getting just in his space. “And when you put your hands on me, I think of all the things those hands have done and can do.”

“A lot of killing.” He murmured

“Yeah...that’s true. But that ain’t quite what I was thinkin’.” You stood on your toes and kissed him. 

It was the first time he hadn’t eagerly responded to one of your kisses, and an icey fear shot through your veins. 

You took a giant step back. It all made sense now. “Are you trying to break up with me?” Your voice sounded dead to your own ears.

That got his attention. His whole face crumbled, and your Arthur came back. He took off his hat so that you could see him as he could you. “God no. How could you even ask that?”

“Well you seemed to be pretty annoyed with me.”

“I...I ain’t annoyed.” He sighed and shook his head.

You placed your hands on your hips, and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m really not.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“It’s not an easy thing for me to explain.”

Your face cooled down and your hands dropped by your side. “It’s ok we got time.” You looked up at him pleadingly. “Talk to me, please.”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head. He knew that he had to come clean, but he wasn’t sure he could do it. He looked around for a comfortable spot. “Fine. Let's go sit under that tree.” 

He walked you over to a smooth boulder, under a big tree. You sat down side by side, thighs barely touching. 

He placed his hands in his lap, as his fingers played with a tear in his pants. 

You wanted him to speak first, no you needed him to speak first. Even though he said he wasn't ending things with you, it still felt like it. So you waited and waited, until he finally cleared his throat a few times and started to speak.

“Yesterday, when we was out lookin’ for a new camp.” He paused and worked his jaw a few times. “Everything was fine one minute. Bill was saying all these ignorant things and Hosea was schoolin’ him…” His eyes squinted at the memory. “And then out of nowhere, we were surrounded by O’driscoll’s.”

You laid your hand on his thigh, and without a second thought he grabbed a hold of it tightly. You felt a little less scared at the reassurance. His hand in your hand made the world feel right again.

“Dutch froze. He looked so shocked and angry. Like he couldn’t believe this was happenin’ to him.” His gaze was on the horizon, it looked as though he was reliving every detail.

“And then what happened?” You asked as your thumb rubbed circles on the back of his hand.

“He, he pulled out his guns and just started shootin’ em’.” 

Your eyes widened. “Without trying to talk to them first?”

He shook his head. “He didn’t even try.”

“That doesn't sound like Dutch.”

“No it doesn't.” He sighed heavily. “Everyone but Dutch ran for cover. He just stood there in the middle of the field. Guns blazing. He looked insane, I don’t think he even blinked. I told everyone to cover him, while Charles and I went around them and flanked the bastards.” 

“I’m glad at least you had a plan.” You said proudly. You knew that it wasn't important to him, but you always felt that he would make a good leader. He had something most leaders didn't, he actually cared about people.

He gave a humorless chuckle. “I suppose.”

“Why did you show up so dirty?”

“I came up on a group of them. I started shooting and then this sonofabitch tackled me from behind. We fell off of a small cliff and landed in mud.”

You panicked slightly. “You said you were ok.”

He turned, his piercing eyes stared straight into yours. “I’m fine...I know that we only fell for a few seconds but, but for the first time in my life...I was scared I was gonna die.”

“Cause he…”

“Cause I was afraid I couldn’t get back to you.” His eyes welled with tears and he quickly looked away in frustration. “Damnit, I’ve just never felt this way before, and I don't really know what i'm saying or how to say it.”

You sat quietly trying to take the confession in. Did you make him weak?

“...and if all of us would have died. What would have happened to y'all back at camp?”

“We would have figured something out.”

“None of you can even hunt.”

Then all the pieces fell into place, and the picture was clear. “Arthur I’m a grown woman..”

“And you're mine to look out for.” He squinted like he didn’t like how that sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No you are right. I am yours. Always. But you don't have to always look out for me.” 

“I do though.” He turned fully towards you taking both your hands, reminding you of yesterday. “Look if I die out there, doing god knows what.”

You violently shook your head as tears welled up in your eyes.

“It, it could happen. And we both need to face them facts. If I were to not come back...I, I can’t die thinkin’ that you was left alone, not knowing how to defend yourself, or how to find food.” He leaned into your palm as you wiped a tear. “I ain’t strong enough for that. It scares the living shit out of me.”

He returned the favor and wiped some of your falling tears. “Don’t worry about me like that. I’d figure it out, you know I would.”

“I can’t help it. Leaving you would be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, and knowing that I made you an outlaw. Knowin’ that you couldn’t find honest work, or an honest husband because of me...”

“It ain’t your fault. You saved me.”

He pulled you to him. Unable to continue. He just wanted to forget everything. 

The hug was fierce and you held on for dear life, and you heard him whisper, mostly to himself “and you saved me.” He was anchoring you at this very moment, without it you don’t think you would have been strong enough to stay upright.

“And I couldn’t help but think that I never would have gotten the chance.”

“What chance?” 

He pulled back so he could look at you. “To tell ya how much you mean to me.”

You smiled. “I would have known.”

“I love you.”

You smiled wide. Your whole body felt warm and your heartbeat quickened. “I love you too Arthur. So very much.”

He kissed you. It wasn’t gentle but it also wasn’t rough. A perfect balance. 

He kissed you until you felt his ridgid shoulders soften, and all the stress of yesterday disappear. 

He looked in your eyes and spoke softly. “I’m so lucky.”

“Make me a promise then, please.”

“Anything.” He responded resolutely.

“If you ever have something like that going on in your mind you talk to me. Ok?”

His eyes hardened a little.

“I’ve spent the last twenty four hours worried about you. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn't eat. I even left the biscuits you gave me back at camp. And if you would have just told me how serious this was to you I would have been a better student.”

He smiled. “You were a fine student. I was just a little impatient is all.”

“No I most certainly wasn't. I was far too distracted by the teacher. Even if he was a little impatient.” You winked playfully. 

He smirked.

You turned serious again. “Promise me. Please?”

“Alright I promise. But you have to know by now I ain’t an easy man to live with. Sometimes I bottle up and I’m not exactly sure why. And I'm definitely not used to being loved...It feels amazin’ don't get me wrong, I just ain’t used to.”

“Then I guess I got to work on you then.” 

Grinning at your playful tone, he started kissing you again.

It was much, much later before you both returned to camp. The sky was purple and stars were becoming visible. The campfire was blazing, and, thankfully, the night air was much cooler.

You brought back two deer carcasses. Mr. Pearson was very happy and began prepping them right away.

After dropping off the deer, Arthur grabbed a beer, while you walked over to your bedroll. You packed all of your stuff and just as you stood, Karen walked up with a knowing look about her. 

“And where do you think you're going?”

You stood proudly. “Arthur and I are sharing a cot.”

“About damn time.” She laughed while sashaying away, looking for trouble. 

On your way to his wagon you passed by Charles, who was carrying a load of firewood.

“Oh Charles, thank you so much for the bow. It is the most beautiful one i've ever seen.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you liked it. Arthur made me build it so fast I was worried I wouldn’t have time to add the details.”

“It’s perfect, honest. Thank you.”

“You are very welcome. Anytime you need something like that let me know. All I ask is to give me some time in advance.”

You chuckled. “Ok no problem.”

You made your way over to his wagon and paused while looking at all of his stuff. It wasn’t the first time you studied his pictures, but it was the first time you noticed Mary's was missing. 

At the start of a vulgar campfire song you looked over to your strange family. Arthur was probably on his second beer by now, and judging by the way he was enjoying himself it would be far from his last. 

You sat a few of your beloved trinkets down on the table next to his flower in a jar. Set a picture of your parents next to the one of his mother, and placed your bow next to his in the corner. Then you shoved the rest of your things, and your clothes under his cot. You’d have to get some storage of your own soon.

You stood back admiring your work. Everything of yours looked somehow better mingled with his.

Satisfied with how everything looked, you made your way over to the campfire. He saved you a seat, greeted you with a big slightly drunken smile, and offered you a fresh beer.

After a few bars and a few beers, you found yourself happily singing along.

----------

[neon-pink-skies]

Bakugou x Reader (Fluff) Quality time

It's fluff time folks with your favorite Boom boy, Bakugou! Basically, the reader and Bakugou decide to stay at the dorms and spend some quality time together as the evening goes by. This will be pure fluff and gender-neutral so I hope you guys enjoy it! Word count: 1,072

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It was a nice, warm Sunday with you and bakugou sitting on the couch of the common room in the UA dorms, watching a random show on one of the channels out of boredom. You were leaning on the armrest with a bigger cushion supporting you as bakugou was laying with his back on you, giving you the perfect opportunity to play with his soft blond hair mindlessly as you watched the show.

Both of you soon got slightly invested in the show the longer you guys watched it, when a longer ad was now playing, you both began to speak in union at the same time. ''Can you believe what that guy did?!'' You both looked at each other quietly for a second before bursting out in laughter.

His laughter was loud yet contagious as you both came to the brink of tears. Your laughter died down as you wiped the tears that had formed at your eye away and so did bakugou while setting his head back down carefully on your stomach looking up at you with a smug smile. ''Already crying out of laughter (Y/N)? weak.'' He chuckled as you hit him playfully on his arm earning another, louder chuckle from him and you smiled with the sun hitting your face just right.

Bakugou smiled to himself, admiring the pretty view of your glowing face and sparkling eyes as you looked down on him.

''Oh, come on you are no better!'' You corrected him as you looked at him with a slightly disapproving smile. He chuckled with a smug look on his face as he acted dumb, ''I don't know what you're talking about.'' The both of you continued to playfully bicker at each other while waiting for the show to continue but bakugou got different plans as the bickering turned into a little fight, with him provocating you by poking your sides or arms until you would do the same back to him. You got a little annoyed at him and started to wrestle him, causing you both to try to pin each other to the couch as your fighting got a little rough.

When you had him pinned you smiled in a proud and triumphing way. ''Ha, I got you now!''. But that smile got quickly replaced with one of surprise as he rolled both of you over and he pinned you now, admiring the view he had now. It was his turn now to have a proud look on his face, ''Don't talk too soon when you hadn't pinned me properly.'' You rolled your eyes at him pointing out your mistake and huffed. Bakugous face relaxed with a soft smile, ''You look really stunning right now, you know?'' You definitely weren't expecting that from him right now but smiled back at him, returning the compliment, ''Thank you, you do too'', as you both were just looking at each other in silence before he spoke up again.

''I know I am because I'm the most good-looking one in the whole school!'' He stated confidently with a smug look on his face as you laughed making him scoff with a smile.

''Are you gonna lay down now or what?''. You asked him and held your arms slightly out and up to him, wanting to continue to watch TV as the ads had stopped and the show continued.

He smirked and laid down on you without another word, wrapping his arms around your torso. You continued to play with his hair as you watched the show, a gentle smile appearing on his face when he felt the warm and soft touch.

You both soon stopped watching Tv and settled for just cuddling with you lying on him this time. He was already sleeping with a hand behind his head and the other placed gently on your back with a relaxed face. The sky turned into a beautiful orange tint as the sun set on the horizon, filling the room with an almost magical glow and making the simple moment more special to you.

His gold-like hair and flawless face were highlighted perfectly with a soft glow as he was asleep, making you admire how calm he looked now in contrast to when he was grimacing all the time with anger. You continued to admire him quietly before you also fell asleep him his arms. When some of your classmates came back later that evening, they couldn't believe what they saw in the living room and took a few pictures after they awwed at the both of you sleeping comfortably in each other's embrace. They quickly made their way to their rooms together as they knew bakugou would explode if he would find out they took pictures of the both of you. When it was morning you and bakugou had prepared breakfast for everyone as you guys were the first to wake up in the living room. You were sitting at the table with the others, next to bakugou as it was unusually quiet for everyone. Normally at least one would ask what lessons we had, that someone being kaminari as he has poor memory but even he didn't say anything. ''Okay, why is it so quiet? Everyone would be talking loudly by now.'' you pointed out as you drank (Fav/Drink) while looking suspiciously at everyone at the table as they avoided your gaze. Mina was the first to speak up out of everyone with a small smirk. ''We came home yesterday night and we found you and bakubae cuddling on the couch, wanna explain (Y/N)?''

You and bakugou froze for a second and your face turned red from the slight embarrassment of getting caught, while bakugou was on the brink of yelling and setting the whole table flying with his explosion.

When you noticed him getting that angry from Mina's sudden and bold question you simply put your hand on his shoulder so he wouldn't at least blow up the table. You cleared your throat before you answered her, ''I don't think there's anything to explain Mina.''

She and a few others were laughing or chuckling at your vague response before everyone slowly started to talk with each other, filling the room with a comfortable atmosphere instead of the awkward silence of earlier, glancing at Bakugou who was also looking at you with a smirk, making you smile in response and take another sip from your (Fav/Drink).

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Heyyy it's me again, just wanted to say thank you for reading and I hope you all like this fluff I wrote! I had a bit of trouble trying to write pure fluff but I think I did really well for my first time :D

[electronicgrowth]

Burned

A/N: I have no idea where this fic came from. I wrote it when I was drunk tbh. I may add to it at some point idk. I kinda love the whole dark!Aemond thing. Also, I picked names of Greek origins for my female original characters because Rhea is a Greek name. So, I just kept that theme up. And I played Hermia in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream in high school, so the name is dear to me. Aemond Targaryen x f!Royce!Targaryen!originalcharacter. 

Summary: Daemon Targaryen’s daughter that he had with Lady Rhea Royce gets caught in the middle of the Dance of Dragons. She doesn’t want to be involved. And she really does not wish to involve Runestone in a petty Targaryen squabble. What happens when Aemond forces her to pick a side? 

WC: 4.8k

Warnings: non-con, rough sex, breeding kink, (a little) biting, absentee father bullshit (thanks Daemon), also incest (cousins) but it’s HOTD so you already know lol

Hermia Targaryen had never considered herself a true Targaryen. She had grown up at Runestone, away from her father, Prince Daemon. She had been born only months before her mother died, or was killed, depending on what you chose to believe. Her mother gifted her with a name better fit to House Royce than House Targaryen. She even had dark curls. The only tell, aside from her Valyrian surname, were her eyes. Hermia had unique eyes. Closest to her iris the eyes had a hazel color, but it melded into a deep purple. The kind of purple that only Valyrian’s had. 

Mia grew up far from the influence of her father. She was raised by other members of House Royce. And while she felt the loss of her mother, she never felt that for her father. She did not attend his second, or third wedding. She had also never met his two most recent children. She met her half-sisters only once, at their mother’s funeral. She had met Daemon’s step children. But that was when they were simply her cousins. She would travel to and from King’s Landing as a child. She would visit her aunt, uncle, and cousins at least once a year. Aegon couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to her until she puberty. Then he paid far too much attention to her. Helaena had always been kind and they shared a kinship as the only girls in the keep, but they were interested by vastly different things. Daeron had always been too little, so she never really got to know him. And Mia found Rhaenyra’s children to be grating and needy. She enjoyed Aemond’s company, despite the fact that he was a rather mercurial child. They had fun together and Mia was a shoulder to cry on whenever his brother or cousins picked on him for not having a dragon. House Royce did not wish to wed Mia to Aegon, such a union would take her away from Runestone for too long. So, Aegon wed Helaena. And Aemond truly believed that he and Mia would one day wed. He would be Lord of Runestone with her. And they would have countless children. It was all he dreamed of. 

But then the visits stopped happening. And Aemond heard tell of a betrothal. A wedding followed closely behind the news of a betrothal. A man from a vassal house of house Royce was to be her husband, House Tollett. The Royce’s had insisted on the union. No man outside of the Vale was considered for Mia’s husband. Despite the fact that she had already been married, she retained her name. She’d had one daughter. But her husband had died in a hunting accident, leaving her a widow at twenty, before the birth of her only child. 

Mia named her baby Eudora. It was a traditional name for house Royce. It also meant ‘excellent gift’. And Dorie was an excellent gift to Mia. The sunshine for all her cloudy days. Dorie had inherited Mia’s dark curls. But was fortunate to have gotten her father’s bright blue eyes. Dorie was everything to Mia. And Mia saw no point in marrying again, she had her heir. All her energies were devoted to ruling Runestone and raising her daughter. Dorie was to take the name Royce upon taking over Runestone. 

At the age of four and twenty, Mia received her first ever letter from her father. The letter was beseeching Hermia to back Princess Rhaenyra as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, House Royce had already received a raven from King’s Landing stating that Aegon was king. The letter further explained that the crown had been supplanted from Rhaenyra, and as his daughter, Daemon expected Hermia to offer Runestone’s support of the Queen. 

Mia wrote her father back to simply say that Runestone had no interest in participating in the petty squabbles of the royal family. And she would not subject their resources or their people to a war that truly had nothing to do with them, beyond taxes and whose ass they would have to kiss. Mia thought that was the end of it. And for a while it was. 

Until Mia got news that Prince Lucerys Velaryon was killed at Storm’s End by Prince Aemond Targaryen. The details were vague, but it seemed as if the pair’s dragons were involved. She felt justified in her decision to not get involved with the issue of succession. But then, another raven came from King’s Landing. The Hand of the King was asking that Mia bend the knee to Aegon. She responded in a similar manner as she had to her father. She stated that House Royce wished not to involve itself in the fight. She was not expecting a reaction from the crown. She knew Aegon. She had met him a few times when she went to visit King’s Landing. But she hadn’t been there in over ten years. She barely remembered her cousins. 

It was a cold, cloudy day. Not so cold that snow could be sustained, but cold enough that the air had a bite to it. Mia had taken Dorie out to ride. Both mother and daughter loved the feeling of the wind in their hair and the sting on their cheeks. Hermia had just arrived back at the castle with Dorie. Her cousin, Gerrold, was nervously milling about the barn. 

“Cousin,” she chuckled, “You look nervous. What ever is the matter?” She lifted little Dorie off the saddle as she spoke, setting the child on the ground. 

“My Lady. Prince Aemond is in the hall,” Gerrold said apprehensively, not making eye contact with her. 

“Prince Aemond? Here?” Mia asked, she was confused. When was the last time any member of the royal been to Runestone? And Prince Aemond? He had never even been to the Vale before. Dorie could not read her mother’s change in mood and decided to interrupt her mother’s nervous thoughts.

“Mama,” the little girl began, pulling at her mother’s riding tunic, “may I have some cake for lunch?” Dorie had a mischievous look in her eyes. 

“Darling, it sounds as if mama has some business to attend to, perhaps, Septa Erydice could go with you to eat a proper lunch,” Mia suggested. Dorie pouted up at her mother, but she did not argue. Dorie’s handmaiden met the trio outside the main hall, to take the child to lunch. Mia wished that she had an opportunity to change. But protocol demanded that she meet the prince immediately. Yet she took off her outer clothes to avoid smelling of horse, leaving her in a long, knee-length tunic and slacks. She took a deep breath and pushed the doors open to the hall. The hall was long, stone. The windows were high, so dull light from the cloudy day struggled to light the hall. The torches were nearly always lit. Although, there were three torches that had clearly burnt out. Mia flushed in embarrassment. That would never happen in King’s Landing. Prince Aemond did not turn around. Surely he had heard the door open. But he stayed where he was, gazing up at the stitched House Royce coat of arms that was hung upon the stone wall. All she could see was his long, sleek silver hair and dark clothing. 

“Prince Aemond,” Mia called. Finally, he turned to meet his cousin. Mia was shocked at how handsome the prince had grown to be in the last ten years. He had sharp facial features, and lips that, if they belonged to anyone else, Mia might desire to kiss. He was practically other-worldly beautiful. The only thing that marred his appearance was the scar that ran down his face, and the eyepatch. Souvenirs from the loss of his eye in childhood. Although, Mia thought the scar and eyepatch just added to his mystique. 

“Lady Hermia. How nice of you to finally join me,” Aemond chided, his perfect, pink lips moving into a smirk as he spoke, “And in your riding clothes no less.” 

“I apologize. If I had known you were coming I would have been here to greet you. In a gown, of course,” Mia countered with narrowed eyes. Mia walked forward to stand next Aemond. He stared down at her in amusement, for he was much taller than her now, almost the opposite of the last time they saw one another.

“How can I help you, your grace?” She asked, impatiently, spitting his title at him with disdain. 

“I wish to speak about your response to my brother, King Aegon,” he replied. 

“You will have to be more specific, Your Grace. I am in correspondence with many people.”

“Your response to his demand that you bend the knee.” 

“What of my response?” 

“It was unacceptable.”

“Unacceptable?” Mia laughed, throwing her head back. Aemond looked over her shoulder at Gerrold and other men that had entered the hall behind her. 

“Perhaps, we might speak alone, cousin,” the Prince suggested. Mia exhaled in annoyance, before turning to speak. 

“Leave us,” she commanded her men. Gerrold hesitated. The last time he left a woman of House Royce alone with a Targaryen man, she died. 

“Gerrold, it is fine. Please go.” He nodded at the younger woman before leaving. 

“Speak plainly,” Mia commanded. Without any witnesses she shirked the politeness that should have been reserved for a member of the royal family and adopted the tone of an older cousin chastising a younger cousin.

“King Aegon wishes to know who you declare for.” 

“As I said in my raven, I will not declare for anyone. It is not in the best interest of House Royce to supply either side with our resources or men,” Mia said with a roll of her eyes. 

“You expect us to believe that you will not declare for your father’s wife?” 

“My father,” she laughed bitterly, “I would never declare for that man’s side. He killed my mother. If I were to declare, I would declare for Aegon merely to spite my father. But truly, I do not wish to be involved.” 

“Again,” Aemond explained in a condescending voice, “that is not an acceptable answer. You have to declare one way or another.” 

“No, I do not. I may be a Targaryen in name, but I do not wish to be involved in this family drama.” 

“You may not wish it, but you are a member of this family, my Lady. You must choose.”

“I must? From what I hear House Arryn has declared for Rhaenyra. Should I not follow the lead of our overlords? We are simply a vassal to a bigger house.” Mia countered. 

“Perhaps, it is the fact that you are a member of the family that no one has involved you,” Aemond suggested, “But the Hand of King remembers what your father said about your mother, and the Vale, during the reign of King Viserys. He had no love for your mother or your home. It would be in your best interest to declare for King Aegon.” 

“Oh? And pray tell, what could King Aegon offer me?” 

“Would you not wish for the advancement of House Royce? The King could make your house overlord of the Vale.” 

“I do not wish to supplant House Arryn as the overlord for the Vale.” Aemond chuckled at her response.

“You are a woman. Without a husband. You have only the backing of your own house. Do you truly believe that all the members of this house wish to have a woman leading them? Aegon could reaffirm your position. Help you keep your seat. He could even help your house advance, then who would speak out against you?” Aemond said. 

“I have heard no rumblings of discontent from members of my house. I have served my house to the best of my ability.”

“Then perhaps, I shall offer you safety for yourself and your daughter. I came here on Vhagar, my Lady.” 

“Is that a threat?”

“Perhaps,” Aemond chuckled. 

“Do you threaten every house that does not declare for your brother? Or am I just lucky?” He laughed at the question. 

“I would say you are quite unlucky, my Lady. Where is your daughter right now?” 

Mia’s eyes widened. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your daughter. Eudora, isn’t it? Do you know where she is? She may be with her handmaiden as you bade her. But whose to say I came alone?” Mia turned and was about to run to her daughter’s rooms. 

“Ohh, kēlītsos. Not so fast,” Aemond laughed. He was quick to grab her by her waist, pulling her back into him, her back to his front. He towered over Mia, he had to bend forward to bring his lips to her ear.

“Kēlītsos,” he said again— what did that word even mean?— “You will escape today with your life. But only you and your daughter. This visit was not to negotiate with you, rather to distract you. Your cousin, Robar Royce, wrote to the King with terms of his own. He wishes to be the head of House Royce. He wishes to rid this house of its two Targaryens. And in exchange for supplanting you, House Royce will bend the knee to King Aegon.”

“What use is Runestone to your cause that you are so determined to win our favor, even if it means stripping me of my birthright?” Mia asked as she struggled in Aemond’s arms. 

“It is a foothold in the Vale. So very close to Gulltown. We can take the Vale from the inside,” Aemond had pulled Mia back further into him, arms tightening around her waist, “Robar suggested that we kill you and your daughter, but now I think that I have a better use for you. Lord Borros Baratheon declared for my brother after I offered myself in a marriage pact. But I care not for any of his plain daughters. I offered Lord Borros a fortune to get out of this betrothal. And I’m so glad I did. How better to ensure the loyalty of House Royce than to marry their Lady. To elevate you to a princess would elevate the entire house. Although, once we wed you’ll be a princess so the responsibilities of running the house will be far too involved. So, you would have to release the title of Lady of Runestone to Robar.” 

“No, no,” Mia struggled against Aemond’s grip, “I will not wed again.” 

“Your love for your first husband too great?” Aemond mocked, as he breathed in the scent of her curls. She smelled so sweet. 

“No, my love for my daughter. I am committed to her and my house.”

“Your house would sooner see you and your child dead than continue to have a lady running it. Would you truly die for your house? When it cares so little for you? When you have a child to protect?” Aemond wrestled Mia to the ground. He straddled her hips to pin her down. His hands grabbed hers and stared down at her. Mia’s eyes were wide with fear. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this. I will take Dorie and leave. Or I will bend the knee to Aegon. Whatever you want.” Mia suggested in panic, her legs flailing behind Aemond’s back. 

“I could allow that,” Aemond considered, “However, you are a Targaryen, even if you don’t look like one. And I wish for my children to have Valyrian blood from both of their parents. And if it’s whatever I want, I have something very specific in mind.” Mia was attempting to tug her hands from Aemond’s as he spoke. It was all for naught. Aemond moved and gripped both of Mia’s hands in one of his above her head. His free hand slid to his cloak, he pulled out a blade. Mia froze, her heart beat erratically in her ears. Mia was regretting that she took off her outer wear, as Aemond easily sliced open her tunic. He licked his lips at the sight of her bare chest, before returning the blade to its place under his cloak. His free hand groped at Mia’s breasts, playing with one before the other, making sure to focus on her nipples as he went. His hands were rough, callused from years of sword training. He smelled like smoke and leather. It would almost be comforting, if Mia weren’t so alarmed. Aemond traced her upper body almost in reverence. His hand trailed down her belly to the ratty, old trousers she was wearing. He released her hands, both of his hands went to pull her trousers off. Mia took the opportunity to scratch at Aemond’s face. He hissed in anger, before pinning her hands back down at full force. Four scratch marks raked down his face.

“Careful kēlītsos. I can make this nice for you, if only you submit to me,” he hummed as his nose trailed along her jaw, “Or if you continue to fight me, I can fuck you bloody. It doesn’t matter to me, I’m going to take you either way.” Mia whimpered. “Sagon nykeā sȳz hāedar.” 

“I-I don’t know w-what you’re saying,” Mia admitted in a breathy voice. 

“You don’t speak Valyrian?” 

“No, the masters here don’t know the language. I had no one to teach me.” 

“I’ll have to teach you, then,” Aemond murmured as he reached for the shreds of Mia’s ruined tunic. He quickly tied her wrists together, before Mia could even react to having free hands. With both his hands free, Aemond returned to Mia’s breasts. With one hand he squeezed one breast, but he brought his lips to her other breast. He began suckling gently. It vaguely reminded Mia of breastfeeding, except it felt good. He laved his tongue over her nipple as he worked. Mia unwillingly began to buck her hips, searching for friction. He released the nipple and began sucking a bruise onto the underside of her breast, making eye contact with Mia as he did so. Then Aemond moved his mouth to the other breast, but rather than take her nipple in his mouth, he bit down gently at the top of her breast. And he bit down hard. Mia screamed, shocked by the sudden onset of pain Not only were impressions of his teeth left, but she was bleeding. She whimpered a bit, before Aemond returned his hands to her trousers. He moved so that he sat on his knees between Mia’s thighs. He made quick work of removing the trousers, revealing Mia’s long, supple legs. And leaving Mia totally nude on the rough, cold, stone floor. Aemond’s eyes raked over the figure of the woman in front of him. Her breasts were perky despite already having had a child, her tummy soft, protecting her thick hips. Hips that would give him heirs. She would have no trouble birthing children with hips like hers. And of course, between her legs, was the most perfect cunt Aemond had ever laid eyes on. And she was glistening already. 

“Gevie,” he murmured in reverence. He had been waiting to take Mia since he was twelve years old. Since he lost his eye. Upon seeing the confused look on Mia’s face, he explained, “Beautiful. Gevie means beautiful in high Valyrian. Although beautiful doesn’t begin to describe this body. It’s perfect. These hips were made to bear my sons.” Mia panicked at the final sentence. She wriggled, trying to get away from him. She had no wish to bear his sons. But his grip was far too strong for her. Aemond could no longer contain himself. He leaned forward to press his lips to Mia’s. She didn’t respond as his lips moved against her mouth, until he bit down hard on her lower lip. Hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled her mouth. 

“Kiss me,” he commanded, barely pulling back from her lips, one hand tightening around Mia’s throat. She gasped before throwing her head forward in panic. Trying to comply quickly. Aemond claimed her mouth, moving his tongue against hers. Even with the taste of blood, she tasted so sweet. The hand that was around her throat moved down to rub Mia’s clit. Unintentionally, she began bucking her hips. Aemond smirked into the kiss. She liked this, that much was evident by her little moans. She was so clearly trying to silence any sound she made, trying not to give him the satisfaction. That wouldn’t do. 

Aemond plunged two fingers into Mia. And she let out a surprised squeak. He quickly pumped his fingers in and out of her, his while arm moved with the rapidness of his ministrations. She got wet quickly. 

“By how wet you are, I almost think that you like this, kēlītsos. Kitten,” he explained the Valyrian word before she could even think to ask. 

“No,” she whined, shaking her head quickly. Her long, curly hair was starting to fall from the single braid she’d had it in to ride. Aemond moved to release the remainder of her hair from its tie. Aemond thought she had beautiful curls, he wished to see how wild her hair would look after a long night of taking her, claiming her, filling her. Gods, what would she look like satiated? What would she look like begging for him? What would she look like pregnant? Feeding his son from her breast? The thought alone made him thrust harder into her.

“Oh, you want it,” he responded, her legs were starting to shake. She was close. Aemond pulled his fingers from her heat and she let out a disappointed huff. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock. I know you want it.” Mia trembled. “Come on, sweetie,” he whispered, “Just say ‘please’ and I can make you feel so good.” 

Her resolve broke, “Please Aemond.”

“Please what?” He prodded. 

“Please Aemond, please fuck me,” she begged. 

Finally, Aemond sat up on his knees to remove his own cloak. He was done playing. He pushed his slacks down just enough to release his cock. He was beyond pleased by the surprised look on Mia’s face when she looked down. He knew that he was well-endowed comparatively, but she looked positively shocked. 

“That— that won’t fit,” she gasped. In her shock, Mia inadvertently stroked Aemond’s ego with her comment. 

“Oh, but it will,” Aemond laughed wickedly. He ran his cock along the lips of her pussy, spreading her wetness. 

“Did your Lord Husband have difficulty fitting inside you?” He mocked. 

“No, but—“ Mia cut herself off. Aemond rested the tip of his length against her entrance. 

“But what?” He feigned innocence, but his eyes glowed with mischief. Mia shook her head, she didn’t want to answer, but it didn’t really matter. Aemond knew. 

“Let me guess,” he chuckled, “Your husband was far smaller? I wonder, did your husband ever get you this wet?” Aemond traced one finger along her slit, before bringing the finger up to Mia’s face and showing her all of the wetness he had collected. Mia simply trembled. Aemond slapped her across the face. She let out a shriek. 

“Answer me when I ask you a question,” he commanded, angrily. Mia noted how quickly his mood could change. 

“No. No, he never got me that wet,” she finally admitted. 

“He must have barely touched you then.” 

“He would only kiss me before he went inside me,” she explained. 

“What a pity,” Aemond tutted, “I bet you look beautiful when you cum. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you enjoy my cock, even if you think you don’t want to.” And with that final sentence he thrust into her. Mia screamed at the intrusion. He didn’t immediately begin to move, but that was to be the only reprieve that Mia was to be granted, because he began to move shortly after. He began to thrust in and out of her in earnest. Tears leaked down her face. The stretch was painful. But underneath all the pain, was a sliver of pleasure.

“Gods, you are so tight,” he moaned. His mouth latched to Mia’s neck where he started to suck numerous bruises. He wanted— no, he needed to mark her. In this moment, Aemond knew that Hermia Targaryen was his. He just needed to show the rest of the world. And her, apparently. 

With steady thrusts the intense pain began to subside, giving way to pleasure only. Without the distraction of pain, Mia had to come to terms with the fact that wetness was leaking onto her thighs and to the stone floor beneath her. She glanced down to where she and Aemond met, and she could see that she wasn’t the only one being coated in her wetness. His cock, his pelvis, even his thighs were wet. He caught her looking down at where they were joined. He was quick to cup the back of her neck, so she would be forced to watch herself take him. 

“Look at how you take me, kēlītsos,” he groaned, “Enjoying yourself so much. Your cunt just keeps pulling me back in. So wet, so tight. I’ve been dreaming about taking you like this since the first day I met you. And by the way you’re taking me makes me think you’ve thought of it too.”  

“No,” she whimpered in response, but it wasn’t convincing at all. The entire hall was filled with the sound of Aemond’s hips meeting her’s and the squelching from her wetness. 

“Oh yes.” His hand reached down to rub gentle circles on her clit. Then Mia’s legs began to shake. Something was happening. There was a tightness in her lower belly. A pleasurable fire. Mia began gasping and moaning, the moans becoming higher pitched each time Aemond bottomed out inside of her. 

“Shit,” she gasped. Aemond simply smiled, his long silver hair sticking to his sweaty neck, but that didn’t stop him from thrusting harder. 

“Ohhh, are you going to cum, sweetie?” He cruelly mocked, “That’s okay. Let go for me.” It wasn’t long before the spasms started. Mia had never felt anything like it. Her legs shook and her insides quivered. She let out the most beautiful sounds as she came around Aemond. His hips faltered as she rode out her orgasm. “Doesn’t that feel so good, sweetie? Only I can give you that.” 

Tears streamed down Mia’s face, she was half crying, half moaning. The pleasure was intense and unbelievable. How could he be making her feel this good? She didn’t want it. But it was so, so good. And that was what made it all so humiliating. She didn’t want to feel good, but she did. What did finding enjoyment in this savage ravishing of her body say about her as a woman? It wasn’t even just that physically it felt good. It was erotic, she didn’t want it to end. He was so handsome. The kind of man she had dreamed about marrying as a little girl. She wanted Aemond Targaryen to fuck her like this everyday of her life. The unfairness of it all made Mia cry harder. Yet, Aemond was still chasing his own release. 

“I’m so close,” he moaned, “Gonna give you my seed. Get you round with my baby. Would you like that kēlītsos?” Mia shook her head rapidly back and forth. “Oh, I think you would love it. And I’m going to make sure I get you with child. This cunt is far too sweet not to thoroughly enjoy. Not to fuck everyday.” 

“Please, Aemond, don’t,” Mia begged. She hadn’t said his name yet. Aemond’s hips stuttered. 

“Say it again,” he commanded. Mia looked up at him, extremely confused. 

“My name. Say my name,” he demanded. She hesitated. “Say it.” 

“Aemond,” it was half a moan and half a plea. 

“Gods, my name sounds so good when it falls from your lips,” he groaned, he was picking up his speed again, hand roughly gripping her hips. His grip would undoubtedly leave bruises. 

“Beg for my cum,” he commanded. Mia sealed her lips tightly shut. Aemond started to punctuate his thrusts sharply, before slapping Mia across the face again.

“Fucking beg for my cum.” He slapped her as he finished that sentence too. 

“Please give me your cum,” she whimpered out, stuck between wanting this to be over and never wanting it to stop. 

“Oh, kēlītsos. I think you can do better than that.” 

“Please Aemond. Please cum inside me. I need you to come inside me,” she begrudgingly moaned. 

“You are mine,” he growled, hips stuttering as he chased his high, “Mine. Mine. Mine.” He groaned and grunted as he finished. His cum flooding Mia’s cunt. Aemond panted, trying to catch his breath, before claiming Mia’s lips. 

“All mine,” he hummed as he pulled out of her. He stared at his cum leaking out of her. His eyes flicked up to her face. Her cheek was red where he’d slapped her. Her lips were swollen where he’d bitten them. Her eyes were watery and rimmed red, this only serves to bring out the purple in them more. She was gorgeous. And now she was his. 

Author’s note:

Sagon nykeā sȳz hāedar= be a good girl

[profeyandere]

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐂. ─── ☾ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 ²

ʟɪɴᴋꜱ ↪ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴊᴜᴅɪᴄᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜱ ↪ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.4ᴋ ↪ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ ᴄᴏʟʟɪɴꜱ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

A small and lopsided smile delicately and angelically decorated your jovial face, showing something more in you than your usual seriousness or disgust for the company of others at social gatherings or parties of the people closest to you. Your heart, finally feeling happy and euphoric about the scene that was presented before you, did not stop beating against your fragile and warm chest, making you think at times that it was very likely that in a matter of minutes, you could faint due to lack of air or a heart attack. That last assumption was too extreme and exaggerated, and it almost made you laugh because of how imaginative you were and how melodramatic you could be, but it was inevitable to show that side of you that you had so hidden when you saw your dear brother wrapped in the arms of the woman he loved, finally enjoying the first dance they shared as husband and wife. The couple looked at each other with affection, which was obvious from the moment Fitzwilliam asked to woo Elizabeth, but now it was different. You could see with perfect clarity the love that one transmitted to the other with the elegant movements of their joined bodies, whether it was through their joined hands or the clash of their bodies when Darcy wanted to spin his current wife, and you could not stop to see those smiles. Your brother's pale, glued lips showed the happiness that was palpable in his person, perfectly completing his being with a touch that made him look more attractive and special than he already was, while your sister-in-law's bright and teasing smile shamelessly showed how happy and lucky she felt to finally be with the man she had worked so hard not to fall in love with. Watching them both, you knew that it was impossible to control the feelings that developed in those around you because the two of them were a clear sign that no one was capable of fighting what was in their hearts.

You weren't aware of it, and very few would be sure of it, but your eyes sparkled with emotion when you saw the small bubble that had engulfed the newlyweds, even if that detail seemed to be something quite minuscule compared to the perfect scene taking place in the center of the large ballroom, there was a person, a little man in a simple suit who kept his gaze fixed on your person. Before his eyes there was only something more beautiful than the union of the people who were enjoying the dance piece that formally made them a perfect couple, and that 'something' was you. Your face, your brilliant eyes that seemed clearer in the light of the candles and the lamps that decorated the room, and the beautiful light-colored dress that you were wearing at that moment made you look like a queen, a goddess, or an angel fallen from heaven to bless the whole world with your radiant beauty, as natural and graceful as that of a swan finally showing its wings as it takes off for its first flight. Mr. Collins had the happiness of being able to get to know you correctly, going to the house where you lived with your brothers to be able to share several afternoons with you, whether it was playing countless games of chess or the happy checkers with which he always beat you and giving long and leisurely walks in the great gardens of Pemberley, Derbyshire, as you searched for a way to establish a moment of peace and quiet to talk to each other without your younger sister's cheeky smile or your older brother's sharp, cold stare at Mr. Collins.

Those two relatives of yours were looking for a way to torment you once they found you alone in some room of the house. Ever since that conversation so far back in time that you had with Mr. Collins about his possible marriage, or future proposal for a hand, towards one of his cousins, he had given in to your wishes and had taken your advice as if they were orders that he really should follow as if he was a faithful servant of yours; Georgiana often teased you about it because, in her view, no man would have agreed to a woman talking to him that way and most likely would not have paid any attention to you, he was too likely to ignore your advice, but he took it and promptly denied his wish to marry one of his cousins because of the disgust you seemed to have shown at such an idea. You never mentioned or questioned him about why he had listened to you, what it was that had pushed him to ignore society's expectations and listen to you, specifically you of all the people in this world. On the one hand, he had had Lady Catherine, your aunt, behind his back, scandalously encouraging him to marry as soon as possible, and, on the other hand, he had found Mrs. Bennet, his cousin's wife and mother of the newlywed, who was constantly after him insisting that he marry one of her younger daughters, but it wasn't until he found you that he realized that his life did not have to be as two women wanted, no matter how much one wanted. One of them would have offered him so much help and was someone he truly appreciated and admired.

Your sincerity was what he needed to get out of that little hell, and it was what saved his cousin Elizabeth and the other girls from marrying him.

A wave of applause brought the clergyman out of his thoughts, who promptly joined the ovation as he joyfully congratulated the newly married couple who shared a little kiss as a sign of his deepest love and affection. Collins couldn't help but feel a slight pressure on his chest as he watched his cousin enjoy her husband's company, hoping deep inside that he might be as lucky as Elizabeth to woo Darcy and thus, try to show his affection towards you and charm you with his attentions.

"I thought that at some point you would be the one to take the step, Mr. Collins, but I see that you are still proud enough not to go over to talk to the person you are burning with your eyes."

Your voice, remarkably serious that contrasted perfectly with your mocking tone and the mischievous smile that you shamelessly showed, caused his body to begin to tense and become more and more rigid until he was completely stretched out in his position, almost becoming a little taller than you by a couple of centimeters. The cleric's mind began to race a mile a minute, trying to find an ingenious response to your simple words that, being as true as his affection for you, could show you how aware he was of your presence with him and that there was no been surprised.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His tone of voice, slightly muffled, caused a soft laugh to escape from you, which quickly dissipated into the air and was barely heard thanks to the festive atmosphere around you, which was made even happier when some relatives and friends from both sides of the couple gathered on the large dance floor to enjoy the music.

"I accept your apology," you murmured, nodding gently in his direction. That statement made the man understand that his assumptions about your discomfort were correct. His face quickly showed a sad face at the thought that he had made you feel bad by looking at you, but you made sure of it in a few seconds and continued speaking to try to calm his afflicted heart. "If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was come over. I thought we were close enough that formalities were out of the question."

"Although that's true, I'm afraid to remember that we were in the company of your family and mine," he indicated, briefly lowering his gaze to his hands before placing them behind his back without realizing that your gaze full of surprise was fixed on him. "Furthermore, as a higher-ranking member of society, you should be the one to make me feel blissful in your presence."

You couldn't help it, your eyes moved by themselves, and you rolled them for a moment when you heard him.

"I hope you'll forgive my expression. What nonsense," you said while you shook your head softly, turning your gaze to him quickly with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Since when do you care so much about decency and society when we have shared afternoons in solitude, with no one else us? You have come to my house, as I have to yours, and we have enjoyed the solitude and the company of the other. Why is now different for you, if I may ask?"

Mr. Collins remained silent for several seconds, not knowing exactly what to answer because you were right. Ever since that surprise meeting at the party where he finally met you, he couldn't help but feel attracted to your ingenuity in knowing how to escape from situations in which you didn't feel comfortable, your rebellious attitude towards what society dictated, and the maturity that society had given him allowed him to see the fact that marrying just any woman would not bring him the happiness that every human being deserved. When he saw you, he could only think how lucky he was to be able to enjoy your company in the large garden of your brother's house while you talked about his progress with Lady Catherine and what he was getting with his work within the church, while that you only listened attentively. If you were similar to your brother in anything, apart from the serious face you used to show everyone around you, it was in your ability to listen attentively and carefully to others, soaking up their achievements and feeling proud of them, even advising them if possible.

When the man was ready to answer you, having finally managed to compose himself from your sudden question, he felt a strong pull on his wrist that led him to move towards the small dance floor where a large part of the bride's family was enjoying a party calm music, as well as lively, with the other wedding companions. Your little sister, your adored Georgiana, had arranged for your courageous and agreeable conversation partner to share a little piece with each of his cousins, dancing among them like a dizzy duck that doesn't quite know where to move; You couldn't help but feel bad for William, but the little laugh that escaped your lips wasn't something that went unnoticed by him. Just hearing from you more than your small voice in a clipped, authoritative tone was music to his ears.

"Dear sister, you are too mean," you spoke mockingly, losing sight of your partner.

"What's wrong with wanting your loving and shy boyfriend to share a room with his cousins?" She questioned in the same sarcastic tone, making you roll your eyes when you heard the title that Collins had acquired in your relative's mind. True, you two were pretty close, it was almost scary how well you knew each other, but he never seemed to take that kind of interest in you because if he did, why hadn't he already asked your permission to woo you?

"Georgina, it would be better for everyone if you stopped making such absurd ideas about my relationship with Mr. Collins."

The young little woman Darcy glanced at your perfect profile and how your eyes almost seemed to sparkle. Georgina was not a silly girl with the idea of getting married as soon as she got the chance, being the complete opposite of her sister-in-law's young sisters, but she was observant and quite like you in the more serious aspects of her current life and want to wait long enough to find, in his brother's case, his Elizabeth or, in your case, your Mr. Collins, but her assumptions couldn't be wrong, she refused. For her, in addition to Lizzie and her brother, the unique couple that you and the cleric made was quite pleasant since the male's submission together with your dominance caused the relationship to be quite balanced, in addition to your respective knowledge on various topics that interested the other made your conversations enjoyable and quite fluid, but what most managed to distinguish that possible affection that you had towards the man was in the brightness that your eyes had. Fitzwilliam and you had always been more serious than her because you were older since he had to be the perfect man and you the most educated damsel in the entire region, so you had learned to show only one side of yourselves, a little shell that seemed to crack little by little when Elizabeth and William respectively arrived, and the crack caused your eyes to shine like the brightest stars in the firmament and your hearts to open wide to the new experiences that the sun could bring you. love.

"Like I'm lying," she murmured gracefully, being subtly scolded by you with a little touch of your shoe against hers. "You can't say I'm lying, everyone knows it."

“It's not that simple, Georgina, and I don't think it's very appropriate for you to press the issue any further."

That blunt statement of yours went unnoticed by the young woman, who simply shook her head when she saw how stubborn you were. Many times she did not know who was worse, your brother or you.

Spotting Collins again among the great mess of people on the dance floor, you quickly made your way through several of the guests to reach him and move him away from the crowd, seeing his face completely flushed and slightly sweaty from his obligation not to decline any dance offer that he found with each step he took. You could almost laugh again when you saw how he was breathing but, as you had seen in him, it was not easy for him to have to have several conversations at the same time while having to try not to step on women's feet.

"Let's go outside, you need to give yourself some air," you murmured once you had managed to reach him, gesturing with your hand towards the nearest exit that would take you to the small garden outside the building where the party was taking place, allowing him to then to be able to breathe some fresh air and be able to calm their nerves while it was just the two of you.

Seeing Collins nod in agreement gave you the break you needed because you, like him, needed to get rid of the accumulation of emotions that you had felt throughout the day, even if you had not been the protagonist of that evening; Nor would it surprise you to see your brother looking for an outlet to relax before returning to attend to all the guests who demanded his attention. Your heart began to beat more strongly as the minutes passed, while you were alone again in a comfortable silence, going out to the aforementioned garden, allowing you to observe with intensity some of the small flowers that had been taken care of for the very special occasion that was happening that day and enjoy the warm and soft breeze that enveloped you that summer night. Your breathing was not agitated, but you felt on the verge of a mental collapse as you stopped by Mr. Collins's side when he felt far enough from the building and comfortable enough that he could breathe easy and regain his relaxed, placid countenance.

Somehow you couldn't help but think about your sister's words and, therefore, your relationship with the cleric to your right. As one of the women belonging to the Darcy family, London, and the whole world hoped that tomorrow you would be engaged to a man of equal or greater social status to your own, not to a mere clergyman who depended on your aunt to take whatever decision regarding his life; Of course, he was faithful to it, you just had to remember how he used to talk about you the first times you shared a snack at her house, but you made him understand that only he could and should decide who he should marry or when to do it. The only thing you were trying to show him was that he shouldn't be after a woman who told him how to make his life, which you achieved after much persistence and after showing him other pleasures that were deprived of him because of your aunt. You could not aspire to marry Collins, but rather a friend of your brother's or some other bourgeois or marquis your aunt approved of, but your heart seemed complete only when your eyes turned to that man who had seemed so strange to you when you met him. You met your mind only thought of a man when the subject of marriage was mentioned by your aunt and only a name escaped from your lips while you dreamed of the day you would get married. There was only one man in your life who could make you happy, and he was in front of you, as clear as it had been to your sister from the beginning.

"Looks like you needed a moment too," Collins mentioned, drawing your attention. "Don't get me wrong, I just want to point out that you seemed a little out of sorts."

"There's something that bothers me, but it's not important," you commented without giving too much information, seeing the question look that Collins had, making you sigh and knowing that at some point you would have to mention it. "Would you risk everything you have if you believe you truly love a person? Just like my brother did for your cousin."

Mr. Collins seemed to think about it for a couple of seconds, at least that's what you supposed when you saw his frown.

"Well, I suppose so," the cleric replied, making you nod gently at his words. "It's complicated, I guess. Is it good to take a risk? It's possible. Up to what point? Don't know."

"I could lose everything for him," you said quickly, surprising him with that sincere statement. "He is not what my aunt would want for me. He is very different from what she would expect, and all she would do is give him a heart attack as she knew, and that fact came true."

Mr. Collins couldn't help but look at you curiously, wanting to know more about that stranger who was your lover, but also afraid of what he had wanted so much to never come true.

"Your brother did it, you can always lean on him."

Your gaze strayed back to him before turning your gaze forward, being able to make out on the horizon the large whitish ball that had appeared a few minutes ago. Everything seemed to be going in your favor, even if your respective doubts and fear were afloat and in some way had shown themselves over the months when you met, but one of the two had to take the step and, as happened before and in several times, it had to be you.

Your delicate hand, which was then intertwined with the other, slowly slid and touched one of his fingers, surprising him with the sudden touch, but which he did not reject. Your hand managed to wrap around his with an elegant movement and, as soon as you knew it, he had wrapped yours with his; With a simple handshake, you both felt how your hearts became one that full moon night, and it was when all your fears seemed to vanish with the breeze of that summer night.

[tharkflark1]

Now that I’ve completely caught up on KH (and even played most of em), I think I can finally give my reviews on each game in the series! Then I’ll rank em at the end!

I only got into the series about a year ago and I love it to bits! So this will be from the perspective of someone who never rlly played it as a kid nor had heard of it until recently. ^^ however it should be known that knew the the entire KH plot line before playing them outright.

KH1 - The only KH game I’d played before I truly knew what it was. I remember seeing it and playing a bit of it in elementary school cuz some friends had it, but I never knew what was going on so I never finished any of the worlds ^^’.

It’s definitely the hardest game out of the bunch. Not because of anything it does but simply it’s just so barebones in terms of battling compared to future games in the series. That’s not to say it’s not fun tho: probs my favorite time grinding for synthesis items. I’d say this game is my fav grinding experience. Plus Cure not taking up ur entire health bar helps KSNDKSNSKS

As for story: A great way to start off the series. You get introduced to your main guy, your little meow wow: Sora. And then there’s his jealous gay best friend, Riku. And probably my fav version of so far and pretty snarky girl best friend, Kairi. This game is pretty good on its own in terms of story but it really shines in how it influences all the other games in the series. I’d say playing through all the other games made me appreciate it so much more as well as create a baseline of “innocence” for the Destiny Trio to fall back on and acknowledge. And DI is just a beautiful place in general, rlly want to explore it freely someday.

My only real gripe is that Ansem SOD, tho mentioned throughout the game, is not overly built upon as a final antagonist. Maleficent, I feel, is much more satisfying to finally fight and defeat because she’s been messing with Riku’s head and planting Heartless everywhere with her other bad guy friends. Ansem SOD’s final fight is on Destiny Islands tho so he gets some bonus points.

KH Re:CoM - Truthfully, I haven’t finished it but I’m at Marluxia’s final fight, and I feel like I can talk about the gameplay in general.

The card system is a huge obstacle to get around at first, but once you get the hang of it it’s actually quite enjoyable! Finding out new ways to defeat ur enemies almost instantaneously plus needing to solve ur way out of bosses is so much fun! I could probably spend my days just grinding in that game

Story wise, the push off for this wild story as a whole. It’s this eye opening “oh shit this was going on the background of KH1 the whole time???” Kind of feel. Naminé and Repliku are great. You get introduced to Axel, Larxene, Marluxia, Vexen, Zexion, and Lexaeus… only for all except for Axel to parish, and Sora to forget he ever did that in the first place skdbdjdbs

Riku’s character arc also starts here, and his and Mickey’s friendship is rlly sweet. And it rlly shows that Sora’s opinion of Riku is rlly important to Riku. It’s just all rlly insightful to what exactly started KH1 and everything else.

I probably sound like everyone else when I say that the only thing holding this game back is the vastly different gameplay. I think I’d love to see someone recreate CoM but as a normal KH game

KH2 - The longest one. Only because like, you have to go through each and every world twice (sometimes 3 times) over, and it has the largest amount of any worlds in any KH game. Grinded to level 99 and have barely attempted the super bosses ;0; Also, Lingering Will’s Portal never showed up so I have to beat the game again >:/

Gameplay’s pretty fun! It’s your normal KH almost button-mash style. The gummiship is a lot of fun too, but still more tedious than anything. The infamous Drive forms make their appearance, and they’re pretty swell. My fav probs ended up being Limit and Anti form, but Anti form is random so ;-;. He hang by him foot I don’t know how you couldn’t not love him. Easiest time getting ultima weapon here.

A great villain cast. All of them have such interesting personalities (especially once I got to Days) and designs. They make you wonder who and what they are. Why they’re doing all of this. Honestly, I can’t pick a favorite. This game does a surprisingly good job at letting you kinda get to know each Org person ur fighting before you defeat them. It’s wild.

Holy shit Roxas. Nomura just hands you this wonderful lad before he kills him 2 hours later. It’s same with Axel (if you hadn’t experienced CoM before this). Dude is just trying to get his adopted son back, but he eventually realizes there’s no point and sacrifices himself to save Sora. It’s pretty touching (especially, again, after Days). The game is rlly the one that gets you feeling. Riku’s being a dumb-dumb through out this game, but he’s still a wise ass and it’s pretty great. Kairi, uh, Kairi’s pretty cool in the manga. I feel like neither explain when and how Naminè merged back with Kairi before they shake hands at the end of the game.

My gripes. I was told by a lot of people that this was the best KH game, but I’ll have to disagree. The way I would explain this game is just, tedious. There’s practically nothing happening inbetween Sora waking up and major plot point areas. You’re forced to got through almost every world twice. Leveling up drive forms gets specific and almost annoying (unless you know a glitch to get around the form level part. Which I had to look up). Even with this story, I’m just supposed to accept that Roxas and Naminè can never be their own people again? Like, I get that it’s supposed to be bittersweet but it’s played so oddly. I dunno, I can’t rlly explain it.

I know some peeps have said that the games stopped being good after KH2/Days and should have stopped, but I’ll have to wholeheartedly disagree. Though it has its satisfying moments, I don’t think I would have enjoyed the series as much as I did if it just, stopped there. This is probably my least favorite entry.

348/2 Days - I didn’t play it but I watched someone play it AND I watched the cutscenes.

The Tetris system seems fun! I do have a DS so I hope to play it some day. I will say, when Nomura and friends have to make the gameplay different to work on a different console, they rlly make it work. I’ll be more in-depth on this when we get to BBS. Also I love that each character has joke weapons. Amazing.

The story alone makes me wonder why CoM was remade but not Days. I would have KILLED to see Lexaeus back hand Roxas or the “Roxas, that’s a stick” line fully animated. It’s a playable tragedy where no-one wins in the end. Xion is forgotten. Roxas loses his memories of the past year. And Axel loses both of the kids he cared about sm. The lights of his life while in the Org. It rlly makes Axel’s actions all that more heartbreaking in KH2. But, I do not recommend doing Days before KH2 as Days spoils some plot points in KH2.

Again, I would love to actually play it someday. So I don’t have much gripes. Maybe I’ll update this more when I finally do.

KH: BBS - My favorite. Also the first one I actually saw someone play. You play as 3 different characters with 3 different play styles and it forces you to compensate. And it has the melding system. I will get to the melding system.

Story is one of my favs and introduces a whole new trio: Some parents and their adopted son LMAO. Plus you have old man Xehanort and Eraqus and the Unversed (I want a flood plush so BAD), and a new addition to the Heart Hotel: Vanitas. He’s such a little gremlin but also a blast to fight. Especially as Aqua. His attitude kinda reminds me of Larxene, and he’s a breath of fresh air in terms of personality. He bounces off the optimism of the protags rlly well. Love him <3

This is probably my fav trio? They are, the best. We have girlboss Aqua and her himbo husband Terra. And the saddest boy to ever live, Ventus. I’d kill for all of them. And like, it has baby Destiny Trio and young Saixel like, how much more could u want???

The gameplay is the best out of the bunch. I love the melding system. I love having the command deck. Shotlocks??? Stupendous. I played this one on Critical first, so I’m not sure how much I can talk about in terms of difficulty, but it was challenging enough to let me rlly enjoy the gameplay itself. And with playing through it practically 3 times over: it rlly helps u nail down the specifics.

My gripes are few but common amongst other peeps. I do wish we could have seen more of the trio’s friendship. Like Ventus and Aqua being friends more often would have been cool. Honestly just, more Aqua hanging out with them. And there’s no, recipe for melding stuff so you have to either guess or look up online how to get the best commands.

Other than that: ( Shakes this game in front of ur face like a pack of saltines) play ittttt

KH:ReCoded - Same as Days: watched the cutscenes and someone play it. It’s about this little dude who doesn’t know what the FUCK is going on but he’s there to help I guess?

Again, I can’t say much of the gameplay but it looks fun! Similar to Days but it’s more circuit board-esque. Love to play it someday for real!

Story: tbh it’s kinda lack luster but it REALLY gets you used to the concept of data worlds and how they work. Plus it introduces the Book of Prophecies and what the hell Maleficent is doin.

Data Soriku my beloveds <3 They are like, if Riku realized he was gay rlly early on and everything didnt get swallowed up by darkness. Wonderful. I hope to see them again :( Also what was up with Sora’s heartless evolving into a Darkside. Is that foreshadowing??? Should I be scared for my son o-o’’

Don’t skip it! Plz it’s actually quite good and both Data Sora and Data Riku are wonderful characters.

DDD - The gay one. Holy shit. Riku you poetic gay I’m going to put you back into the closet myself

Story: A really great way to focus on two different characters in different way — Sora’s being about his Heart Hotel and Riku’s being about his internal struggles. The concept of dream worlds are introduced here and while I’m still very 🤔 about it, theyre very interesting. This game rlly shines in how it writes Riku and is more focused on him as a whole. He’s pretty much the main protag of this game and his goal to find himself and Sora.

Gameplay: they got rid of the melding system :( but the Dream Eaters are super cool! It plays very similar to BBS but no shotlocks but it also has ✨Flowmotion✨. I love just launching myself into space with it. I also love naming my dream eaters and hanging out with them.

Gripes: Commantis. That’s it. That’s my gripe. It makes me wanna never play the game again. It’s such an insanely hard boss and for no reason!

0.2 - Short but does a brief character study on Aqua while she’s stuck in the realm of Darkness. Also the official KH dress up game.

Story: More a character study and a demo for KH3 than a whole game. Aqua’s thoughts and feelings on what she’s done, and she’s clearly got depression or something. I need her to be hugged and loved STAT. Also I’ll beat Yen Sid and Rickey Rat with my bare hands ☺️

Gameplay: You can complete it in a couple hours depending on how slow u are or if you wanna get all the outfits. Rlly wish they could have kept even a little of the dress up options going into KH3 but oh well. It’s weirdly laggy at points but I do LOVE the mirror puzzles. Again, more things I wish were in KH3.

Gripes: I don’t rlly, have any? It’s a good warm up going into KH3 with situation commands and everything. Some of the outfit challenges are fuckin WILD tho. Like you gotta defeat a certain boss with a finisher or not take damage during boss fights. Fuckin WILD

Great warm up game! Wish it was longer tho :(

KH3 - the big boye. The largest lad. The first game I ever actually paid attention to and actually caught my interest.

Story: It has KH2's problem i feel with everything at the start and end being important and then dying down in the middle. But I feel it does WAY better than Kh2. Nothing feels overly tedious and all the worlds and characters are a delight. One of my fav versions of Sora where he's still the happy-go-lucky son boy but theres some underlying sadness to him that accumulates until he breaks towards the end. It's great characterization for Sora, and I can't wait to see what Nomura has in store for him.

Also we get to save everyone and every time we watch Terra burst into tears I start crying. And the the Sea Salt Trio hugging ;0; Honestly? The end of this phase of KH is such a breath of fresh air. I’ve seen some peeps say that Roxas and Xion coming back demeans their sacrifices, and while I get that, I feel like the story of KH pushed so hard that Sora wanted them to be real again that them not coming back would have felt empty. Also KH as a whole puts this “everyone deserves a chance at life” thing out there and it makes me cry.

Gameplay: there is,,, so much. And all of it rocks. But keyblade transformations have to be my fav. Oh and Rage form; my little scrunkly <3. The game makes each keyblade viable and fun and it’s just so good. And they even made the Gummiship fun!! Say what you want about the story but holy shit this game is just a delight to play. I have yet to test Critical mode but I’m so ready. I’m gonna get Oblivion so badddd.

As for the Superbosses: fun. I can’t just keep saying that word over and over again but there’s rlly no other word to describe it! I’ve only done 3 so far (funniest defeat being Vanitas who got crushed by Meow Wow ass) and can’t wait to do the rest (I fear Yozora tho >_>’)

But I’m the best at cooking! That egg breaking mini game is my fav <3

Gripes: The DLC paywall probs. Kinda annoying but not the worst thing in the world. And like I said before, pacing’s rlly odd. But def a solid 9/10.

Melody of Memory: the rhythm game

Another one of those “if you don’t like the gameplay it’s rlly not worth buying” but I’m a HUGE fan of rhythm games. So I love it.

Rlly recommend getting headphones to play it. Also if ur having trouble hitting the notes you can adjust the timing in config!

Love that we got a 7 sec update this year for it and it was just Ienzo, Even, and Ansem freaking out over static KSJDKSNSK

Gripes: none rlly. Everything is enjoyably challenging. Not a whole lot of plot stuff tho. Very bare bones in terms of lore

Final ranking (from least to most fav)

KH2 -> CoM -> Days = Re:Coded -> 0.2 = DDD -> KH1 -> MoM -> KH3 = KH: BBS

[anika-ann]

In the Name of the King (S.R.)

Type: medieval/fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 13,000 * 

Summary:  Sir Steven Rogers, having risen from common people, now one of the most trusted knights to prince Anthony. You, nothing but a servant, albeit to Princess Maria herself. 

Love blooms in any place and it cares little for the rules of the court – much like your Steven. Then again, war cares just as little for any feelings you and your knight might harbour for each other...

Warnings: 18+ for NSFW thoughts, talk and sexy times in making, inexperienced and rather reader, probably desperately era-inaccurate, blood and mention of violence, death, religious ambiguity, tooth-rotting fluff, angst, language, (reader has hair long enough to be braided)

A/N: This is sort-of a song fic for it is based on a Czech song. You can find it here. I took the liberty to loosely translate the lyrics for you throughout the fic.

* A/N: If you prefer reading it in two parts, the best part for a split is after 5,5k words – you will find a gif there. Divider’s mine, btw. Enjoy 🥰

Another bolt of lightning illuminated the room. You rolled around in your small bed, squinting against the violent light leaving you blind when the darkness of the night took over again. Your heart, already racing for it was filled with worry, jumped at the clap of thunder – as did you.

A bad sign.

A warning from the Gods.

They should not be out there, settled in a camp and preparing for battle. Storms like these were meant to make mankind bow in front of higher power and yet the cavalry had left in the morning, several troops heading to the West to protect the borders of the kingdom against Hydra, against the self-proclaimed king Pierce.

Gods, how you wished he would get struck by lightning for all the misery he caused to so many people, his own and others alike.

As if the Gods heard your thought, another clap of thunder seemed to shake the castle walls – a scolding for your blasphemy. You should not wish harm to another human being.

Then again, you should not pray to the old gods in the first place, but to the Lord, who shall save your soul from eternal flames of hell. Such were the ways of new religion; yet, it was impossible to let go of the ties to the dogmata you had been raised in.

And so you prayed to both. As fresh light exploded behind your closed eyelids, you prayed not for another man’s harm, but for one’s safety.

You shuffled on your bed, kneeling up, clasping your hands together, whispering under your breath as not to wake the two women sleeping beside you.

Please, bring him home. Protect him. Please, please, please. Should any harm come to him, the world would cease to make sense. Keep Steven safe.

Your Steven.

Your knight.

Your sun, your moon, your stars; with his smile shining as bright as all these combined, surrounding you with gentle warmth from the very first moment he had set his cerulean eyes on you and kneeled by your side to help you collect what your clumsy hands had spilled.

It was early morning, the sun barely peeking out from behind the horizon, colouring the East walls of the castle in orange and pink, the warm sunrays pleasant on your skin as you carried Princess Maria’s breakfast tray. You could not but smile at the gorgeous play of colours; and yet, your gaze wandered as you heard the grunts of effort mingling with light-hearted laughter from the grassy training areas.

A maid could never think herself anywhere near equal with the knights, therefore it was considered unthinkable to harbour feelings for any of them – the laws of the court would frown upon such union. And yet, you were only human of flesh and blood and the warm liquid rushing in your veins always felt hotter whenever you set your gaze on the well-built men.

Their physique easily made for a woman’s heart to race, the heroic tales of their bravery only strengthening the sentiment, as did the tales of their gentlemanly ways. You had witnessed differently, many of them acting overgrown children, but it would be foolish to deny that they were a sight to behold, every single one of them.

One in particular, however, stood out; for he was not only a handsome man, but an extraordinary one. The story of his heroics was spoken of long after it took place, long after his ascension to knighthood.

Of common origin, Steven was the only son of the town’s most valued blacksmith; Steven himself was adept at forging a sword, armour or a shield of the highest quality, but apparently also at wielding it – alert and bright.

Attentive to his surroundings, he had been fast and strong enough to prevent fatal consequences of the attack on Prince Anthony during his visit of the town where he was ambushed by two slayers of the Hydra kingdom. He stopped a deadly strike when dashing between a slayer and the prince, strong arm wielding the shield he had finished earlier that day.

Of all knights, Steven was most loved by the common people for while the rules for knighthood had not changed with his actions and he remained the only one graced with the honour to date, he had proven that a man, no matter of how humble origin, was capable of great things.

A knight from the people. A humble hero.

His features were sharp, but his eyes spoke of softness; he did not seem to lack determination, on contrary, his lineage forged his desire to fight for a better world. Of tall build, he held his head high – an aristocratic face lined with sandy chin-length hair – but for he never forgot where he had come from, he did not look down at people.

You had never spoken to him, but you had heard his voice before; deep, pleasant, respectful. Falling for him despite the distance between you had been as easy as dangerous for your heart. You were but a maid; had you been in love before he was knighted, then perhaps the circumstance would be different, but you had not met him before then. And so you were destined to long him in silence, busying yourself with serving to Her Grace Princess Maria.

Such was your goal at the moment; you were carrying breakfast, you reminded yourself, vainly, of course. The sight offered to you was too distracting to ignore.

As your gaze lingered on the expanse of Steve’s arm swaying the unsharpened training sword with ease, you lost your step – and sent the tray and its content flying, the metal clinking loudly as it hit the stony path.

All the knights’ heads snapped to you in an instant, alert, causing your face to be set aflame under their scrutiny; and as you swiftly kneeled to gather the utensils and food with a silent curse and prayer that most of it was salvageable with another wash, booming laughter hit your ears, causing your cheeks to burn in shame.

“Well done, my friends, our training must truly be aesthetically pleasing!” Prince Anthony’s voice called out, followed by another roar of laughter that chased tears of humiliation into your eyes you barely kept at bay.

Your shaky hands frantically started gathering the fruit – grapes, apple, pear, hopefully not too bruised – as you made to ignore the quickly approaching footsteps. You refused to look up, shame settled deep in your stomach as you assessed the damage, the smallest relief when you found the slices of bread still wrapped in cloth, albeit considerably less white now.

You felt the large man kneel by your side before you registered the hand, clad in fingerless leather glove, appearing in your field of vision. Only when the man begun to gather the scattered grape berries, you dared to look up; and the time must have stopped.

Your heart certainly did as your gaze was met with a pair of the most beautiful kind eyes without a trace of laughter. You lost the reigns of your body – it froze, your mind occupied fully by seeing such grace from such short distance. You had never noticed how plush and alluring his lips were, framed by a short beard; how handsome his face was when one corner of his lips curled up almost uncertainly.

It was the unusual emotion in his smile which pulled you back from your reverie. A knight was kneeling by you, the kingdom’s hero, helping you clean up the outcome of your clumsiness.

How kind of him – how below him  

“Oh, Sir Rogers, you must not bother-“

“But I must,” he opposed before you could even finish your sentence, sincerity lacing his voice and by gods, his voice was like velvet lined with silk. His gaze flickered back to the group of knights whose eyes you could feel at you still, intent. “Do not mind the blockheads that are laughing instead of helping a lady.”

A giggle of surprise escaped you, your hand quickly covering your mouth so no one could see; but Sir Rogers could and a smile broke out on his face, a boyish grin sprinkling his eyes with laughter and pride, warm and inviting.

By Lord, he must have been the most handsome man to ever walk the world, more so when he smiled like this. And he called you a lady – you, but a maid.

“I am hardly a lady, Sir Rogers,” you whispered bashfully, your lacking status bringing you grief like you had never experienced – a reminder.

But a mere smile from the man, and you lost the ground under your feet, your heart on your sleeve for him to take, no matter how unthinkable your romance would be.

His fingers took a gentle hold of your wrist, eliciting a gasp from your lips at the tender touch; he spilled several berries into your hand, thumb brushing your sensitive skin, sending the sweetest tingle up your arm.

A blissful smile fought its way to your face despite all reason.

“Well. Your beauty rivals one of a lady. … especially when you bless the castle with a smile like that.”

Oh, your heart fluttered like butterfly wings, your gaze instinctively searching his for the faintest trace of a jest; yet, you found nothing but sincerity.

“S-sir Rogers…”

He released your wrist, already having you mourn the loss; instead, his nimble fingers found one of the loose cornflower blossoms which had broken away from the small bouquet you had gathered to bring with the breakfast. He twirled it in his fingers for a moment, almost absent-mindedly, before his smile softened.

“This one might be broken, but perhaps it could serve its purpose in your hair at least?” he suggested, beckoning lightly to your braid.

Before you could as much as realize he meant it, he reached out, careful fingers – surprisingly so, for such a strong man – stuck the stem to the base of the braid behind you ear, sending your heart into frenzy when the pads of his fingers accidentally brushed your cheekbone.

“Lovely.”

A thank you never spilled from your lips for another voice rudely interrupted your intimate conversation.

“Steven! We fighting or picking flowers?  Get your pert arse in here!” Sir Clinton howled, causing you to wince – and the dream world Steven had created for you, one where he could harbour affections for you, started to disperse like a morning fog.

“He’s charming a girl for once in his life, give him a moment!” Sir Barnes, prince’s most entrusted Knight, cried out.

His exclaim was followed by a wave of suggestive boo noise at which Sir Rogers finally tore his gaze from yours, staring at his friends.

“Well if you acted more like knights and less like barbarians, making fun of a lady like that, perhaps I would have taken more haste to come back to you!”

All he earned by his chivalrous defence of your long-lost honour was a chorus of “oooooh” and perhaps later, he would be laughed at just as much as you had been when you had tripped. Yet, he seemed to be bothered little by that fact.

He shook his head, expression speaking of an apology not needed.

“I’m afraid I have been summoned, as rudely as it was.”

You gathered the last items, carefully laying them on the tray, a sad reflexion of how it had looked before you lost your balance and practically fell to Sir Rogers’s feet. As if it was not too late for that.

“Thank you for your assistance, Sir Rogers,” you thanked him sincerely, astonished to find him swiftly rising to his feet – and offering a helping hand you could not dare to refuse even if you wished. His strength made itself known as he pulled you to your feet with little effort on your part, causing your head to spin, the brief curtsy you gifted him at last feeling like a daydream. “You- you are most kind.”

The breath-taking smile shone the force of thousand suns, yet caressed you as gently as a summer breeze. “It was an honour, my lady.”

“I am not a-“

“I hope to see you again soon,” he spoke before you could protest fully, laying his arm over his middle, gracing you with the tinniest of bows you were not worthy of, “smiling just as beautifully.”

With those words, he turned back to the prince and his knights, leisurely running back to the group.

As you walked away, you could not but waver at the corner, casting a last glance at the man; Sir Barnes mimicked a curtsy and proceeded to punch Sir Rogers in his shoulder with laughter. Sir Rogers pushed him away with a playful scowl, gaze wandering you to.

You rushed away, smiling to yourself for the rest of the day, embarrassment long forgotten.  

Smiling you were not tonight; fear had seized your heart, consuming you by every moment as you silently stepped out of the princess’ maids’ room, leaving Wanda and Carol sleeping peacefully despite the rumble outside – and in your heavy heart.

You missed your Steven greatly whenever he went, but you understood his duty. Tonight, however, something hovered in the air, an aura of something ominous which had you losing sleep. With a candleholder burning in your hand, you wandered the corridors, nodding to the guards on patrol.

“The seamstress is awake,” Pietro, Wanda’s brother, uttered knowingly, beckoning the direction of Natasha’s chambers.

Perhaps it should have not surprised you that Sir Barnes’ beloved, too, could not find peace on this trying night; and as much joy as it brought you to find yourself not alone, a suffocating feeling squeezed your chest tightly for it meant she might sense the same unease surrounding tomorrow’s battle.

Yet, you headed for her chambers, nodding at Pietro in thank you.

 That night, we were all losing sleep it was as if God sent the storm to warn us; oh foolish men, there is no peace in a war I, too, laid down my life in the name of the king.

 The warm light of the candle was casting long shadows as you walked, reminding you of how the light and darkness played on Steven’s handsome face last night. The princess had been laid to sleep, providing you with a few moments to spent in your beloved’s presence before he would leave to fight for his country, yet again, and you were not one to waste the chance.

Goodbyes were never easy. Whether it had been just a chance meeting after the fateful breakfast incident, meetings when Steven would insist you called him his name, offered you a flower of a compliment in exchange for your smile or whether your encounter had been planned when he revealed his intention to court you, rules of society damned. Whether you were to tell him goodbye for several days due to an upcoming quest or just for the night. Whether the goodbye consisted of words, a touch, a kiss on a cheek or lips… never easy.

Yet his absence left larger ache in your heart the deeper you were falling in love. Every goodbye seemed harder than the previous one; last night parting made for no exception.

“I will think of you every moment I am away,” he promised sweetly as he sneaked his arm around your waist, sitting on the bench by the dying fire in the kitchens, long abandoned by the cooks.

Your body, pliant to his touch, melted into his strong form, arm laying over his torso, temple resting against his chest as you sighed, feeling your worry heavy in your stomach.

“As much I appreciate the sentiment, please do not, Steven.”

You could almost hear his frown as he nuzzled your hair, his lips brushing your forehead lovingly.

“Why not, my sweet?  Will you not think of me as well?” he questioned, voice wavering despite his teasing tone.

You swatted his hip gently, soothing the attack with a caress then.

“You must know that is not true. I—you must focus. Be careful. So you can come back to me,” you whispered, doing your best not to let the depth of your anxiety show.

Steven carried enough burdens for the time being, he needed not your fears to add to them.

“Oh my sweet…”

His fingers slipped under your chin, leading you to meet his gaze, a smile playing in the corners of his lips; not even his beard could hide his amusement. You pursed your lips in slight offence – his safety was no laughing matter.

“Please, Steven. I could not bear any harm coming to you. Be careful.”

His thumb brushed over your lower lip, his smile only growing, wandering gaze warmer than the remnants of fire.

“You know I will, my sweet. I have a duty to my king and I have a duty here, to you,” he muttered, gaze flickering to your lips, following the motions of his thumb as he felt the softness of your flesh.

You had not enough time to process the words before he leaned closer, capturing your lips with his in a kiss, hand moving to cradle the back of your head, parting your lips to engage in a dance of love which could have consumed all your thoughts, all your worry – and yet, the anxious feeling only dug its claws deeper, chasing tears into your eyes.

Steven released you to breathe the moment he felt the salt of your tears, sighing as he tucked a lose strand of hair behind your ear. Still, a smile adorned his now kiss-swollen lips, condescending and kind at once.

“Promise me?” you demanded, the prickle of his beard leaving your skin tingling, your heart racing.

“I promise, then. Do not cry, my lady…”

Oh, the traitor… the corners of your mouth twitched, the difference in your status having turned more of a teasing matter than anything else.

“Steven, you must stop this. I am not a lady.”

“Oh, but you are?” he opposed with a twinkle in his eyes before his lips went to catch the tears from your cheeks, drinking them as if they were nothing less than ambrosia gifted by the gods.

The warmth of his lips and the burn of his beard combined with his jesting drew a giggle from your lips, turning into a breathless moan when his strong arms winded around your waist, pulling you into his lap just like several nights ago.

Dirty, dirty cheater.

His lips found yours again, playful nips causing more giggles spill right into his mouth.

“Am I, truly?” you asked doubtfully. “What are my possessions? What lands do I own and command, Sir Rogers?”

“My heart.”

The jesting and games left as swiftly as they arrived, silence filling the room, your heart stumbling in your chest as you felt your expression morph into something much softer.

How had you ever stood a chance of not falling for this man? For his strength, for his beautiful brave spirit and his gentle, gentle heart? A heart he claimed was yours to own and command?

You let your fingers map out his handsome features, running tenderly over his forehead, brows, the nose of a true aristocrat, his pushy lips; a careful touch which had him flutter his eyes shut, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, the fire as if accenting his beauty, revealing his soul to entice yours to entangle with it forever.

“It shall be my most prized possession, then,” you whispered, barely audible, his hand blindly reaching for yours to kiss your fingertips, one by one, the tender gesture tugging at your heartstrings.

He looked at you then, with overwhelming affection that would choke you once he left in the morning – but you could not think of such things now. He was here still. And he was yours, as you were his.

“Good,” he hummed. “Should you trust me with yours-“

“I do-“

“I shall ask for it in front of the Lord and the gods themselves.”

Your lips parted in surprise, your heart suddenly so loud you could almost hear it, breath catching in your throat. Surely, he did not mean-

“Once I return, I shall ask for your hand, should you agree, my sweetness,” he promised, eyes wide and sincere, stunning you into silence lasting long enough to have him hesitate. “Do you not-“

Oh, how could he even question your wish to marry him!

“I do! I--- but Steven, you are a knight. I would spend thousand lifetimes with you if I could, surely you must know-“ you babbled, his index finger covering your mouth before you could explain.

You would love him always, day and night, from summer solstice to winter and back, and you cherished every moment--- yet the void between you was immense.

“I will settle for one lifetime. You know Anthony cares little for rules and I am but of a common origin myself. What kind of a monster would stand in the way of our love?”

It was not until morning when you realized the answer to his question; when you watched him from above as he stood in the courtyard by his horse, fastening the scabbard to the saddle and tugging at the leather, checking it would hold as they would ride.

You hated seeing him leave more than ever – you dreaded the moments his horse would canter out of the castle’s gates, rushing so willingly to face dangers the other kingdoms posed; to serve his king, your king, to protect what he held dear.

His gaze travelled up the castle’s walls, lingering at the windows of the princess’ chambers – the very windows you were watching him from, stealing last glances as your heart wept and trembled in fear for his life, longing for him to keep the promises he had given you last night.

With the prince’s command, the knights and soldiers left but ache and dust behind, along with an answer.

War.

The biggest and only true monster standing in the way of love was war.

The word resonated with you, leaving you weary and in frenzy at once, as you reached Natasha’s chamber, not needing to knock for her door was ajar – as if she knew you would be coming; as if she did not want to be alone either.

You slipped into her chamber, welcomed by a humourless but gentle smile.

“A pleasant night, is it not?” she hummed noncommittally, “leave the door open, please. Just in case…”

Just in case there would be any commotion in the castle. Perhaps the knights and soldiers would come back, accepting the warning from the Gods. Perhaps, perhaps…

Natasha’s room was relatively spacious for it equalled her craft-space. Besides a small bed with a solid wooden frame, several tables stood covered in pieces of fabric from simplest to the rarest ones, embroideries, bobbin lace, silk. Dresses in various state of completion laid over them or hung on improvised metal frames imitating princess’ lean figure. Silver and golden threads shone in the warm lights provided by a few candles by the stony walls, flickering to life as another lightning erupted behind the window, followed by a distant clap of thunder.

The storm was leaving. Could that be because the danger was not as great or that the gods had given up on the king’s army since they were not heard out?

“Personally, I would say a long night. An ominous one,” you whispered, earning a sigh.

Natasha ceased her work on a lovely silvery embroidery, laying the tambour frame on the nearest flat surface and rose to her feet, a silent offer you accepted with gratitude for the arms you longed to find yourself in were miles away.

She reciprocated the embrace firmly and you felt an ounce of your fear fall from your shoulders for now you shared the weight of it – yours and hers alike. Her goosebumps matched yours as she slipped hr arms under the flimsy shawl you had taken to cover yourself form gazes of the guards. Both of you wore but in simple nightgowns besides it, yet you sensed cold was not to blame for the prickle of her skin either.

Losing sleep with anxiety and intrusive thoughts were at work instead.  

“The weight of fears is lessened when one’s hands are occupied,” she informed you as she let go, brows furrowed with worry still, sighing. “But what of mind…”

Oh, you wished…

“I must try to busy my hands too then, at least.”

At your words, Natasha’s lips curled up in a smile yet again as she handed you your very own tambour frame which you kept in her chambers for such occasion, for sleepless or nightmare-filled nights such as this one.

You found your seat by hers, not fully across, not fully by her side, assessing the floral pattern you had started almost a month ago.

Natasha had been kind enough to sneak some of the royal threads for your work, expensive ones; threads no one would miss nevertheless for Nat was likely the most trusted woman in the castle besides the cook and the princess herself.

She jested you only deserved the very best for your wedding gown once Steven would lay his heart to your feet and you had been working on it since with the deepest care. Tonight, however, tears burned in your eyes as you observed it, the pattern as if mocking you with Steven’s entirely serious promise.

“He shall come back,” Natasha spoke, your expression not escaping her sharp attention. This of all her qualities was what made for her unparalleled ability as a seamstress – her attention to detail. “They all will, Steven and Bucky included.”

Bucky. Sir Barnes. Natasha’s beloved. He too was likely to be pestered about courting a seamstress, but Natasha was well-loved among the noble – the court would never bat an eye and passed no judgement, yet Sir Barnes had not yet asked Natasha’s hand in marriage. She rested unbothered by such; for all you knew of your friend, she would have asked his hand in marriage should she decided she was in a rush.

The thought made you smile for you were aware of the fact Sir Barnes would have said yes and thanked her, worshipped her more than ever. Their love was strong… and word had it that they shared a deep bond beyond pure love, crossing the lines of physical and perhaps the lines of proper. Natasha had hinted at such herself before.

Should you marry Steven as you wished, you were willing to cross as many lines as necessary yourself. You were willing to do just about anything to ensure he would not change his mind, that he would not be plagued with as much as a seed of doubt.

You believed your most trusted friend could be of assistance… without passing judgement.

“Natasha?” you spoke without looking up as you focused on continuing the cornflower with your needle. “I heard rumours.”

“Oh? Of what? Do tell, my dear. I am always happy to learn of the whispers laugh over them at times.”

You felt the blush creeping up your neck, your stomach twisting in embarrassment. Perhaps what you had heard was nonsense – something to laugh over as Natasha just said, nothing but a foolery you had believed in your naivety and inexperience.

“I must say now I am truly curious for your silence lasts too long. And you seem ashamed… just tell me,” she prompted you gently.

You noticed from the corner of your eye she had stopped working, only adding to your nerves.

Your felt the tips of your ears burn as you attempted to keep your tone and expression nonchalant nevertheless, clearing your throat.

“I heard rumours of… making men happy.”

“That does sound promising. Gold, glory or a woman can do that do them.”

You chuckled despite yourself as she deadpanned, some of your embarrassment melting away.

“I overheard a servant talking of ways a woman can please a man without… without sinning? As in truly sinning in the eyes of the Lord? Have you ever, uhm, heard of such thing?”

Silence settled over the room, hanging heavy above your heads.

The storm had left far enough so that no claps of thunder reached you anymore, no bolts of lightning interrupted the intimate atmosphere.  

Nearly pricking yourself with a needle in anticipation, you opted for ceasing your work, hesitantly looking up, meeting Natasha’s curious eyes with a sparkle of mischief that had you lower your gaze again.

“I have. And they are true,” she said simply at last, sending your heart racing.

Oh. So it was the truth then. There was an experience more pleasurable for men than you knew, places where Steven might appreciate your lips more than on his cheek, in his hair, on his mouth or even his neck. Your temples pulsed with the intensity of each beat of your heart at the revelation.

“Do you… do you know of it, Natasha?” you asked, fingers toying with the fabric in your lap.

“I do.”

Your head snapped to her; she was smiling playfully, head tilted to side – a cat that got all the cream and was bragging to her less sneaky friends.

You huffed and pursed your lips, not liking one bit to be made fun of; yet, you needed to know. And so you eased your offence, looking at the redhead pleadingly, baring your heart to her; for you knew that despite her smirk, she would never truly laughed at you.

“Would you please, please, tell me? I… he promised me yesterday. That he would come back and ask-“

“To marry you? Good Lord! Steven promised to marry you at last?!” she gasped, her eyes truly sparkling now, all teasing gone.

You nodded, unable to prevent your lips from forming a smile at the thought, and continued.

“I want to be a good wife to him one day…. but I would like to show him I will be able to make him feel good. What if he wonders if I can please him? He promised me everything and I-- I want to give him the same. Gods know marrying someone of my status will come with burdens and judgement… I don’t… I don’t want to disappoint him, to make him question his decision.”

Natasha’s booming laugh was a reward for your honesty, startling you.

Was this the first time you appeared utterly stupid to her? Silly? It was such a painful feeling… But once her laughter died down, she observed you with kindness, grinning wide and shaking her head.

“I cannot imagine a world in which Sir Steven Rogers could ever be disappointed in you. That man would build a ladder tall enough to reach the stars should you ask him to bring you one.”

Oh.

The shame dispersed in a blink of an eye, warmth enveloping your heart instead. Was that how Steven appeared to others in regard of his feelings for you?

“But very well. I shall tell you – he is only a man, after all. He will appreciate it, of that I am certain. But know, he can please you in a very similar way. And he should – sin or not.”

“…does Sir Barnes please you in such way?” you asked on a whim, taken by surprise at her revelation.

“Oh, but a lady does not kiss and tell!” she mocked offence, her coy smile answering your question. “Perhaps he shares the secrets of his mastery with Steven and you shall be very surprised when you succumb to him.”

The mere idea – so strange and yet incomprehensibly arousing since you had no experience with it nor you could imagine drawing pleasure from such activity – chased blood to your cheeks, having them burn hotter than fire.

The longing for Steve’s presence hit you sharper than the edge of his shield and sword combined, leaving your head swimming and your chest aching.

“He must return home safe first,” you murmured, exchanging a gaze of understanding with your friend, followed by her smile when you asked an innocent question. “Would you pray with me later?”

“I will. And they will. But now… I shall share the wonders of driving a man mad in ways he will thank you for.”

And by gods and Lord, she did.

 Strange cavalrymen are racing from the forest in our eyes, but droplets of fear – here, to kill is no sin. The very first shot has silenced my heart I shall not return home; my time has come.

(In the name of the king!)

Little did you know that in the darkness of the night, cut by bolts of lightning, howl of the wind, distant claps of thunder and the aroma of rain in the air as if warning them not to go into the battle, Steve laid awake, his thoughts were with you as well.

The tent shared with the rest of the knights protected him from the disgrace of a weather raging outside, light snores a strange lullaby Steve had grown almost fond of during the years of comradeship. He could recognize every single one of his friends by that sound alone, distinct to each; and despite that fact only strengthening the sense of belonging and his gratitude to be given the opportunity to become a knight, he longed for nights to spend with you at last.

The idea brought a smile to his lips; you would lie beside him, facing him, wide eyes watching him with affection, drunk on the pleasure he would have given you but moments before, warm palm gently laid on his cheek as if begging him to kiss your wrist. He would oblige – he would always give in to whatever you asked – but in the end, he would wrap his arm around your waist and roll you over to pull you to his front, align his body to yours, inch by inch. He would drop a goodnight kiss to your bare shoulder, causing you to shiver and snuggle ever closer and let the sleep take you both.  

And in the morning, he would wake only to make love to you again, because he would be allowed; because you would be married at last.

He had promised you as much last night and it was a promise he intended to keep. Just like he had promised himself he would bring all the pleasure he ever dared to think of, clinging to his mind ever since the night you had treated his wound from training, giving him but a taste of bliss.

The way you lowered your gaze when he called you beautiful still, the shape of your lips when you smiled, your tender hands scratching at his scalp when he kissed you.

The warmth of your body seeping into his skin.

He could only imagine how much warmer and inviting your heat would be once he was allowed. Oh Lord, how he had wished to have been allowed that night…

The way the torches illuminated your face made him yearn to pick up a piece of charcoal and a scroll of parchment meant for significant documents to capture the alluring image of you – an image which to him felt just as important as a treaty between kingdoms.

It was rather unusual for him to see you from his angle for normally he towered several inches above you, having you have to tip your head back to reach his lips. You had seated him there, however, and your expression left no space for protests once you learned he had been injured in the evening training, grazed by a little too sharpened sword which cut through his armour, made for a bruise and broke through his skin as well.

You were no physician, you had said, but you could clean and dress a wound like this.

A frown to your brow clouded your soft features with disapproval as you placed the bowl of warm water on the only table in the room, careful not to tip over the small vial of alcohol you had obtained for him. You pulled at the white cloth thrown over your shoulder, dipping one of the edged in the water before glancing at him and halting in your movements as if seeing him for the first time that night.

“What weighs your mind, my sweetness?” he asked silently.

“You not being careful enough,” you retorted as if on instinct; and then your teeth pulled lightly at your lower lip, indignation melting into bashfulness. “Uhm, I believe you will have to- to take off your shirt.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Steve’s lips. That did sound reasonable, yet he felt a slight pull at his nerves as you did at the realization.

You had never seen him bared of his garments, never seen his upper body exposed – or his lower half for that matter. He feared not your judgement for that would be ridiculous. But perhaps he did feel a bit anxious to fulfil your expectations.

A baseless worry, truly; the moment he slipped his shirt off, gritting his teeth at the pull at his cut, you were left staring at him, suddenly mute, lips parted with a soft sigh that spoke of everything but disappointment.

Steve would have been a liar should he say he did not feel pleased, his ego stroked gently. He had worked for the strength in his upper body his whole life and he worked hard for he had been born a weakling. Now muscles adorned his torso, a prove of power he had when wielding a sword and a shield. And by Lord, by would wield it for your eyes only had you always watched him with this silent wonder.

“Did cat get your tongue, my dear?” he teased lightly, unable to hide the smugness when you tore your gaze away from the newly exposed skin, caught staring. “I would never use my strength to hurt you.”

“I know,” you squealed before clearing your throat and composing yourself. “I was merely… assessing the damage.”

He was sure you were.

“Of course. Do you need me to strip anything else-“

“No--! This… this will certainly suffice. Thank you,” you smiled at him shakily, feeding his ego further with your embarrassment. “Just sit back for now, Steven, and let me clean the wound-- oh.”

You tilted your head to side curiously, gaze zeroed above his left hip.

Steve knew instantly what caught your eye.

The black lines were thick despite the size no bigger than his own palm, a small work of art many still frowned upon. You did not seem offended nor, Lord forbid, horrified. Merely curious – perhaps even fascinated.

“May I?” you asked in a whisper, already moving forward and reaching out your hand.

Steve gulped.

Yes, you may, by all means, he longed to say. Touch it, trace every line with your fingers, with your lips, your tongue even-

“Of course,” he rasped instead, scolding himself for his dirty thoughts.

Yet, as if you heard what was on his mind, the pads of your fingers brushed over the tattoo, a featherlight touch in a place where your skin had never met his before and set it on fire.

“A wolf?”

“Yes.”

You pursed your lips lightly in a sign of disapproval and so Steve rushed to explain.

“Bucky often jested we were a pack of wolfs rather than a group of knights and so we all chose a wolf. Do you… not like it? “

You met his gaze briefly, shaking your head with a shy smile, taking your touch away; and he already carved it again.

“No, it’s beautiful, just… a little aggressive.”

“Well, wolves are fierce warriors. Strong, loyal,” he pointed out, hoping you would not miss the weight behind his next words. ”Protective of their own.”

Their own. His own. You might not be a fellow knight nor family nor his wife yet, but he would lay his life to protect you should it be necessary.

And you could bet the royal jewels he would fight aggressively had anyone tried to harm you.

“Then you could have not chosen better,” you whispered, laying a kiss to your fingertips before pressing them to the artwork again, having Steve’s breath catch.

He wished you would kiss it with your lips directly – but then you would have to kneel in front of him, giving him a completely different idea as to where your lips could be and the imagery alone would be permanently etched into his mind.

So perhaps it was for the best that you had not, for he felt his arousal growing at the thought alone; instead, you moved to take care of his cut.

Your dominant hand dutifully wiped around the wound first, tender but thorough, your focus as sharp as one of an archer aiming to hit the middle of the clout. Your other hand rested against his shoulder for balance as you stood between his legs crouched and a little twisted, your position slightly awkward and no doubt uncomfortable.

“Sit, my sweetling.”

You gazed up at him, eyebrow raised questioningly, as surprised by his suggestion and he was for a moment.

Needless to say that at the moment, he was eternally grateful that Bucky and Clint had left for the town’s tavern, celebrating news of Clint’s wife Laura finding herself with her first child – leaving you and him alone.

“I must not block the light and have to be able to reach the bowl. I cannot very well sit, Steven,” you explained softly, blinking when he grasped at your hand and tugged at it lightly.

“You will not block the light,” he opposed, closing the gap between his thighs and leading you closer to stand by his legs and pulling at your skirt a fraction, “if you are sitting, straddling me. Come, my love. It shall be much easier for you.”

Your eyes grew adorably wide at his suggestion, softening at the endearment. Reluctantly, you obeyed, climbing over him and lowering your weight on his thighs, leaning onto his shoulder as not to fall. Steve welcomed the weight you brought with you, your breaths fanning his face as you shifted in attempt to find a comfortable position.

You met his gaze with an apologetic smile as if you had not just gifted him with your intimate proximity.

“Am I not too heavy like this?”

Oh even if you were, Steve would never dare to tell you in order to keep you so close to him for the rest of his days; let alone when you moved a few inches and brushed his most sensitive spot.

Oh Lord, he was going to hell, but it mattered not if he had his time with an angel before he would go.

“Like a feather, sweet. Comfortable? Stable?”

He placed his hands on your waist to ensure better balance and you smiled at him, gaze flickering to his naked chest, a gorgeous flush rising to your face.

Yes, he could go to hell for at the moment, he was having a taste of heaven.

“Yes. I shall work now.”

Steven wanted not to show he felt the sting as you continued cleaning the wound; but he found out letting you see him vulnerable was not the worst thing possible to happen.

When a hiss escaped his lips at the burn of alcohol, your eyes snapped to his with an unspoken apology; and his pain was soothed by the softest of kisses.

He stole several more from your lips, squeezing your waist, toying with the hem of your bodice before he let you continue, demanding such compensation every time you made his jaw tick with pain; and with each kiss, his hunger grew, each encounter of lips longer than the previous.  

The moment you were to take a fresh cloth to finish cleaning with water once again, Steve knew he could not let you. Not yet; he drew too much pleasure from this, having you, his dutiful carer, seated in his lap, soft and tender and unwittingly seductive.

Your lips had grown swollen from the kisses, calling for him to taste you again – and Steve was not one to ignore a call like that.

With a small noise of surprise on your part, he claimed your mouth again, hand reaching to cradle your face, gentle thumb stroking your cheek and coaxing you into giving in. Your body melted into his, pliant, lips succumbing to his advances and he felt something in him roar, a proud primal thing boasting at your trustful submission.

His arm wound around your waist firmly, pulling you chest to chest, your gasp of surprise swallowed by his mouth, your hands catching on his arm and in his hair, making him groan at the sensation which sent an impulse straight into groin.

It made his pants too tight all of sudden; he had no doubt it did not escaped your attention.

Yet you did not protest, your breathing turning heavy, your heart hammering against his chest and under his palm laid on your neck. You seemed to force your grip on him to ease, grasping at remnants of sanity in the whirlwind of need – and so he followed your example and released your lips for a moment.

“My love, my sweetling…” he whispered, drunk on the assault of sensations, drunk on everything that made you you.

How sweet you were, so effortlessly, unconsciously alluring to all his senses. The scent of your skin, the taste of your lips, the tender heat of your touch as you mimicked all little acts of affection he had ever shown you, your lips, hesitant and shy, wandering to his neck or the hollow of his throat to treat him.  

The most beautiful sight, eyes unknowingly blown with lust and wide with surprise at once as you felt his arousal he simply could not help, not with a temptress like you in his lap. Innocent but quickly learning from him, from others too no doubt – for you recovered from your shock, your trembling hands settling on his shoulder for support, grinding against him and by Lord, Lord, he wished to take you right there.

He had women in the tavern touch him before for money, he had eased the pressure in his loin thinking of how sweet your heat would be, but he would never – he could never. Not before he married you, not before he promised his love to you in front of the whole world.  

Yet, the way your eyelids fluttered shut at the foreign feeling, your lips parting with a shaky exhale at the first taste of pleasure, had his hands travel up your waist, teasing the underside of your breasts. He craved to taste you there too, almost as much as he longed for the ambrosia awaiting him between your legs, a cure which would make all the pain above his collarbone disappear completely.

“Oh Steven-“ you whispered as your thighs trembled when his hips buckled up, his name on your lips like an oil to the fire and a gush of wind strong enough to put the fire out at once.

He could feel the pressure in him building, his hands twitching to untie your bodice, ruck up your skirts and pull his pants down to remove all barriers between you, just him, you and absolute bliss--- but he could not, fuck, he must not do that to you.

He seized your mouth with his to swallow your sigh of pleasure; a desperate claim with a smidge of teeth for he felt his control slipping and he needed to take reigns of his desires at once, before he’d do things that could grant him instant gratification but would make for regrets later on.

He grabbed your hips, forcing his own to cease the instinctive motions, preventing your own as well.

A small pitiful sound which almost broke his resolve for it had his blood boiling escaped your kiss-swollen lips, leading him to stray from your mouth to your neck, heavy breaths expanding his chest as much as they did yours, every inhale of yours causing your breasts to brush against his naked chest.

You shall not give into temptation, you shall not give into temptation—

“Lord--- my sweet, my sweetling, how you tempt me,” he panted into your skin, unable to resist a small taste of it, one last time, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“I must not dishonour you in such way, but…” He dared to look up to your flushed face, instantly regretting it for the acute need in his groin grew tenfold at the sight of your own desire written all over your features. “Lord knows it is the most difficult and yet the sweetest trial I have ever faced. You are beautiful, so beautiful…”

He ran his fingers over your cheek, over the slightly irritated skin where his beard scratched when his lips had sought to drink from yours, the corners of your lips now lifted in a shy smile.

“As you are handsome… how hard it is not to give in to a sin. I have never known until I met you, Steven,” you admitted, somehow appearing abashed and pleased at once.

His beautiful kind bashful minx of a woman. How could he not fall in love with you?

“I feel the same, my sweet. I love you. I thank the Lord for you every day.”

Your eyes shone with affection as you cupped his face and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

“I thank the gods and the Lord for you and your love every day as well. I love you. You must be more careful, Steven,” you whispered, gaze flickering to the wound you had not finished cleaning, worry clouding your features.

Oh should you always react in such way, curing him with loving kisses and the same passion you had shown him a moment ago, Steven thought that he should be, as matter of fact, much more careless.

But he could not tell you that – and he would not. He would soon put a plan in motion to spend the rest of his life with you. What kind of a fool would he be should he not try his hardest to make that life as long as possible?

“I will, my sweet. I will.”

Momentarily soothed, you kissed his lips softly and returned to your original task.

Should he keep his promise, Steve needed to catch a shut-eye at last – and chase those sinful memories away.

An early morning awaited them, the last training and a battle to be won to earn his reward; to no longer think of you, but to be graced with your presence… and to be granted your hand in marriage as well.

To reach victory, however, every single man, every knight and soldier, had to be in their best shape, in their sharpest minds, for Hydra could be cunning and unpredictable.

Defeat was not an option for Steve; he had too much to fight for.

For his king.

For his kingdom and the people.

For you.

Oh you.

How you would cry upon learning how desperately outnumbered the Starkerbürg army was. How you would weep, precious tears running down your face once you were to be informed of the victory coming with too high of a price.

Your tears would make for an ocean when you would see only a handful of men coming back, Natasha’s beloved a picture of blood and grief as he had witnessed Steve being one of the first men to get hit.

You would have drowned in your own tears if you only knew Steven’s last thoughts belonged to no one but you. The last thing he had seen looking up into the morning sun as he lied on his back, body too heavy to rise once more and fight, was your loving smile.

Steve could not bear to see you crying; so he was grateful for leaving this world with your smile in his thoughts instead.

 Do not weep for me, my beautiful Marian, when the tower bell rings to honour soldiers, proud My heart is silent, but in you there shall remain all the words that flare up like fire.

The storm did not return the following night – yet the uneasiness in your heart found you in Natasha’s chambers again, frantically working on your embroidery for busy hands were meant to settle an unsettled mind.

You retreated back to your simple bed earlier than the previous night however, your body feeling the consequences of missing sleep the night prior, exhaustion wearing you down and sweeping you to dreamland as soon as your head touched the sheets.

Yet, you were woken up with the first chirps of birds, the castle still wrapped in dark shadows – but lively with a haste that could only mean one and one thing only.

The troops were coming back.

You threw away your flimsy cover, searching for your shawl in a haste, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest with anticipation.

They were back. Steven was back!

Wasn’t it too early for them to return? Had something gone wrong? Was he injured during the battle? Had he lost a dear friend?

You caught Wanda’s sleepy eye as you stumbled out of the room, noticing Carol’s bed already empty – she always had been a light sleeper so the commotion in the castle must have intrude her rest before it did yours.

The corridors were brimming with servants and guards, all taking haste to gather in the courtyard by the gate, heavy footsteps and the rattle of armour ominous as you were still wiping sleep from your eyes and hurried along.

Gods please, I am begging you, Lord – let him be alright. It is but all I ask. Perhaps a cut for me to clean with care and love, a bruise for me to kiss tenderly---  grant me the sight of him, standing tall and healthy, smiling with relief to be home.

Breath had nearly left you by the last stairs, every beat of your heart almost painful against your ribcage, but you cared little for it, willing your feet to hurry still.

They had returned! Only a few more steps and you would be able to see them, dealing with neglecting the princess later on after your soul would meet its other half, chasing all worries away and wrapping you in his love instead. A few more steps only, to find peace-

You gasped as you found yourself in the courtyard at last, your soul nearly leaving your body in fright at the sight of several men looking a miserable excuse for knights – clothing torn, bloodied, articles of armour missing, two horses barely limping by their side.

Prince Anthony in the centre, supported by Sir Barnes and Sir Barton. Sir Drax leading the horses. Your eyes skimmed over what you believed was Mr. Thorn, Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Richards and a few men you did not recognize for their beaten faces or for having never met them before.

Cold seeped into your bones upon seeing that there were not more than thirty – and they appeared to carry themselves with the last remnants of strength, attempting to support one another.

There was no doubting whether there were others on their tail – they were not.

A pained cry erupted from your throat at the sharp pain piercing your chest, hand grasping at your sternum as to sooth it as the realization dawned to you.

No more men were coming. The pitiful remnants of an army stood before you by their prince, their future king, whom they protected with their lives--- and many loyal soldiers and knights were left behind, having kept their promise and laying their lives in the name of the king.

Steven was one of them.

Another sob escaped your lips as you rubbed at your breastbone, scratching that terrible itch that seemed to be spreading through your veins, burning and so devastatingly cold against the tears springing from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks.

Your lungs ached as you took a hungry gasp for air, violent tremble seizing your body, your head shaking of its own volition, stubbornly rejecting the plain facts laid in front of you. You understood – you understood in an instant, but your mind, and more so, your heart refused to acknowledge the gut-wrenching truth.

He was gone.

How could he---how could he be gone? He had promised! He had promised to come back and to be careful and to love you and to ask your hand in marriage for he cared not for who you were and who was him, only who you were together, he-

Steven was an epitome of strength and bravery and loyalty and trust and all the virtues known to man. How could he… how could he simply cease to exist? That must have been gods’ mistake for certain, for it made not an ounce of sense.

Steve was a knight, a fierce warrior, protective of his own as his comrades were supposed to be and yet they were standing there and he was not--- how could that be?

Surely this must have been but a nightmare. A nightmare your tired, fear-clouded mind had invented to make for an encounter all the sweeter, sweeter than Steven’s lips… sweeter than his promises.

Then why were you still dreaming? How had the terrible ache not tugged at your hand and pushed you back to reality?

Was your fear truly so paralyzing it had trapped you in your nightmare?

A flash of red hair caught your eye, Natasha’s hasty embrace nearly causing Sir Barnes topple over and the truth of the terrible scene in front of you twisted the knife in your chest.

There was no denying anymore; there was no waking up from this.

This was the price you paid for war: love. Your love was no more.

“What is it like?” you whispered shyly, teeth worrying over your lips as you wondered whether you had the right to ask.

You toyed with the soft ends his hair, a little too long perhaps, but only adding to the air of a nobleman he might be not, but certainly resembled. Steve was simply too handsome of a man to be a commoner, you would think people believed; and despite his heart of gold, his gentle hands brushing over your cheek as you laid on the grass only a few moments from the castle’s gate, you had to agree.

His beauty rivalled the sun itself; and his love bested the one of the sun as well.

“How-- I mean… on the battlefield. What is it like to fight?”

He tilted his head to side, frowning at you as he appeared to contemplate your inquiry – perhaps an inappropriate one. Yet you could not seem to help it for you wanted to know him more, you wanted to know everything… you wanted to be close to your love even at times when you were not for he had rushed to defend the crown and the kingdom.

“I apologize, I-“ you hurried, only to be interrupted with a shake of his head, sending his golden locks flying adorably.

“It is… loud. Chaotic. Cruel sometimes,” he tried to explain, cerulean eyes filling with an absent look, pulling him away from your happy moment.

And yet, his embrace was as tender as ever as you laid your heavy head on his chest.

His fingers slipped under your chin, insistent to see you instead of the horror which was no doubt etched in his mind. You were certain a single look at the terror would haunt you – left you terrified for your every breath. How could Steven simply lie here with you, heart on his sleeve, kind and inviting?

“And do you not… do you get scared?”

It must have been written in your eyes. Or perhaps Steven was such talented observer, reading between the lines, reading in your deepest thoughts; for he saw a plea and not another question.

Your plea of please, say yes. Tell me that for all your bravery, you do feel fear. Tell me that for all your heroism, you are only a human made of flesh and blood and strength and weakness and dreams, as am I.

“Sometimes, yes,” he admitted with a self-deprecating smile. He grasped your wrist in his long fingers tenderly, ran them over your palm and then fingers, only to bring them to his mouth, kissing every single fingertip. “But then I think of you.”

“You do?” you queried, doubtful and confused.

“Yes. And it gives me strength. I think of you, my sweet,” he whispered sincerely, “and my father and the kids playing pebble toss and five stones and… I recall in the midst of chaos what is it we fight for.”

Touched, you strained your neck to steal a kiss from the lips spilling the tender words, words speaking of Steven’s good heart; words helping you remember just how good of a man your Steven was.

And how your heart, whenever in his orbit, belonged to him more than to yourself.

He pecked your lips, smiling wider then, honest, and dropped a kiss on your nose.

“And I am not alone. Tony, Bucky, Clint, Drax, even Peter or Scott and others. They might all be dollop heads…” You failed to stiff a giggle at his choice of words, knowing he was not mistaken. “But they are skilled fighters. I shall not trust them with saving me lunch, but I trust them with my life.”

Skilled fighters they were, such you had had the chance to witness before. It stood to reason to believe Steven then. The knights could protect each other, having each other’s back, fighting all for one and one for all.

And so as difficult as it seemed whenever Steven had gone, you knew he trusted his friends – and you shall try to do the same.

The words Steven had spoken to you that day echoed in your head, bouncing around like little goblins, mocking you for your and Steve’s naivety.

I trust them with my life.

How foolish a man of his wits could be? How could you have allowed his empty promises to lull you into peace of heart?

I trust them with my life.

There was no denying Steven put his faith in those who were not worthy of it.

And for his foolery he had paid the highest of prices. His life. Your love.

Through the mist of your tears, you noticed the valets letting flags down the balconies; already signalling kingdom’s grief for the fallen men. Black as night and yet not black enough to capture the true nature of sorrow.

You blinked away the salty droplets burning in your eyes as people passed you, leading the survivors to the doctor’s chambers. Cries could be heard from several houses as the news spread like wildfire, burning everything in its wake, leaving unhealable scars.

Sobs shook you, but no one acknowledged you; each of you were overtaken by your own sorrow.

Sorrow was a lonely work after all, for everyone was destined to mourn in different manner, grieving different things… and different people. Sons, brothers, fathers. Husbands and lovers.

Lovers.

Your love. Your Steven.

A caress of a wind carrying his name ruffled your hair.

The night had just barely begun tuning into a day, the lower castle wrapped in shadows and darkness when the commotion disturbed your sleep and but upon learning the appalling reports of the army’s pitiful victory, the night seemed to cling to its reign.

Yet now, the wind made to disperse the heavy clouds which had surrounded the castle in sympathy. Sharp cold light of the sun broke through, a dawn of a new day; a beginning of an end. You let the violent intrusion of light fall on your face, eyes fluttering against the assault.

So bright… too bright in comparison to what your world had become.

Perhaps this was your punishment for praying to Lord and the old gods still at once; perhaps you displeased one or the other by not worshipping them and them alone.

Or perhaps the power of all of them together was not enough to protect your beloved Steve; perhaps the gods were just as powerless and helpless as any mere mortal like you.

Who even knew if there were gods and how mighty they were; what you did know with certainty was that they were not enough to protect Steve in life.

And so you fell to your knees, with no regard of getting in the way, clasped your hands together and prayed for Steve’s soul in death.

May the Gods protect him from ghouls and evil spirits. May the Lord grant him entry to the gardens of Eden, for his soul deserved peace and eternal love.

One day… one day you would hope to join him in afterlife; until then, you shall stay in the purgatory of living in the senseless world without him.

In the world where pointless wars slaughtered the mattes of love and tore soulmates apart.

 With the last shot fired, the once lively meadow burst into quiet tears and embraced the bodies of the fallen and the winners – whom there are none for a war is not won when lives are the price to pay. And all the beautiful Marians, who received the report of our death just as night melted into day, lifted their inquiring gaze to the skies and in that moment, the sun rose.

Despite the truth settling in, despite every passing day screaming the loss the whole kingdom had suffered, your life, suddenly dull, resembled the strangest of fever dreams.

Your mind received the message of reality clearly and undeniably; yet there remained an immense rift between the thought and your heart. In your heart, you could not yet accept that Steven was no more; where your thoughts kept humming with grief, your heart awaited Steven’s return, welcoming smile and pretty words to wrap you in affection.

It was simply such an ungraspable idea, a world without him. Incomprehensible. Impossible.

And yet your mind accepted it, perhaps for Steven loving once seemed just as imaginable.

But before your heart could be ripped apart by harsh facts, you tucked them into an imaginary drawer in your head along with your grief to hide it from sight – for a mere glimpse of it hurt too much.

You busied your hands during your days and attempted to engage your mind as well; yet every night, images of horror awaited you, haunting.

Steven’s motionless body swimming in a sea of blood, vultures circling above him to swoop down in order to feed on his flesh. The tattoo of a wolf adorning his torso coming to life, climbing out of his skin only to tear away a limb to present it proudly to the pack and begin a feast with a growl.

You were waking up with tears drenching your face, screams on your lips which you profusely apologized for to your friends in the morning, earning their forgiveness and endless pity.

Steve’s absence was ever-present; while no longer amongst the living, you saw him everywhere.

You had always thought his eyes were the colour of the sky; yet these days, the skies were the colour of his eyes. The golden threads Natasha laced Princess Maria’s wedding gown with were the colour of his hair when the sun shone bright and painted a halo around his handsome face.

The apples you brought to the princess for breakfast were the colour of Steven’s kiss-swollen lips. You took a bite of the ones you carried back, untouched, but it did not taste nearly as sweet, prompting you to burst into inconsolable sobs, infecting the cooks who had lost their loved ones as well with your tears. You longed for Steven’s lips to kiss your tears away, for his tickly beard to sooth their burn on your skin.

Your only fortune, should you choose to find joy in the smallest of things, was sudden haste to marry king Howard’s children for the kingdom needed swiftly strengthen its alliances; prince Anthony was to marry princess Virginia of Pottenberg, whereas princess Maria was to be wed to prince Steven of Strangerlands.

The preparations for a royal wedding which was to take place in the castle, along with packing and readying the princess for her journey, left only little space for your grief to overwhelm you.

And since you were one of the princess’ maids, you were to prepare yourself for a journey as well.

While you might have not possessed much, there were items you laid into your pitiful excuse of a luggage with great care; you set the hand-made embroidery for a wedding dress you shall never wear, for you no longer had your groom, on the very top of your bag. You ran your fingers lovingly over the pattern of meadow flowers you had chosen to for it reminded you of your first interaction with your beloved and swallowed your tears.

Foreign lands with foreign customs would have scared you only a few days ago, yet now they were a promise of easing your pain. In the walls of the new castle, you would see the ghost of your Steven less frequently for he had never walked its halls.

Leaving, as intimidating as it might seem, would bring you relief.

The loud crash of the chamber’s door against a wall startled you, having you swiftly cover your embroidery with the nearest cloth, your head snapping to the source of the noise.

Met with the flushed face of your closest friend, you blinked in surprise at her wide-eyed gaze, swiftly drying your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“Why would you make such noise, Wanda? What is the matter?” you asked silently, clearing your throat when the swallowed tears made your voice hoarse.

“The--- the- I,” she panted, clutching at her chest as she tried to catch her breath, shaking her head wildly, causing you to feel worry instead of sorrow for the first time in days. “You are needed outside right away!”

To say such order struck you as odd would be a gross understatement.

As it was, you could not imagine a single thing you could do for the princess outside for you were certain she was having tea with her father and her brother before they would be forced to part. And if any help was needed at a request of anyone else, then surely your presence specifically was not a necessity? Wanda herself had just run up all the flights of stairs – she could have done the work in your place, could she not?

Why would she come for you instead? You possessed no special skills to make you any more desirable than Wanda – on anyone, truly.

“Me? Now? What for?”

In lieu of an answer, your friend simply gestured with her hands vaguely, the movement incomprehensible for you.

“Just take haste, for Gods’ sake!” she cried out exasperatedly, the smallest of smiles passing her lips at your gaze widening as well.

Wanda even more than yourself, was raised within the old religion – to call upon the gods felt not in character for her for she knew better.

You willed your feet to move despite how heavy they seemed for the past few days; haste would then be too strong of a word and yet, you tried.

The corridors were lined with royal colours of red and gold, the servants tasked with decoration for the royal visit and upcoming wedding dutiful as always. The preparations and anticipation had made the castle buzzing at last despite the tragedy striking barely a week ago – yet, now it seemed fresh excitement hovered in the air.

Had the party on the behalf of Pottenberg arrived without your notice? You had been so lost in your own thoughts lately it would not be too surprising should you be honest with yourself.

If that was true, you certainly did have to take haste.

Running your hands through your hair, quickly pulling it into an improvised half-braid, you hoped to look presentable enough not to be ejected by the royals. You attempted to straightened your skirt a bit as you descended the stairs, quickening your steps.

Taking a deep breath to stand tall despite feeling yourself anything but small, you stepped outside with your head held high so you could lower it in a curtsy when the situation asked for such display of submission and servitude.

Confusion had your head spin slightly instead as no horses, no carriages and no gleam of luxury which came with royalty appeared in sight.

Instead, you were met with a crowd of servants and townsmen, surrounding a group of people who looked as if they crawled out of hell itself. Dirty, bruised and bloodied, too pale to appear anything but sick and yet, tired smiles seemed to adorn---

Your heart gave out, a painful skip of a beat that made you truly dizzy.

You recognized them.

Your eyes searched every face frantically, some of them swelled with brutal bruises beyond recognition, yet you were certain these were Sir Lang and Sir Quill, then Ethan from the stables-

Oh gods.

Your palm was over your mouth, muffling the sob before you realized it erupted from your throat.

He was a horrifying sight; smudges of dirt he had clearly attempted to clean, hair on his left side stuck in a dark lump due to dried blood, as was part of his entirely unkept beard, the thick crimson seeping into once white under armour shirt where the blood trickled down his neck and shoulder.

Exhausted red-rimmed eyes, limp posture with his arm hazardously fastened to his chest by torn fabric, several shallow cuts peppering his arms, dirt cloaking the remnants of his trousers and shirt where the terrifying amount of blood – his or his enemies’ – hadn’t already stained it. Normally standing tall, his figure sagged at the moment, shoulders slumped as he barely remained on his feet.

And yet, by lord, by gods, he was the most beautiful you had ever seen him, his injured arm clinging to his chest which was rising and falling with only slight irregularity of his breaths.

He was still breathing, his heart was still beating – and yours thundered in your ribcage painfully as you choked on air and sobs.

Steven looked marvellous in his misery, because despite the weariness in features, his eyes lit up upon seeing you, his lips curling up regardless of the split--- he lived, he lived, he lived.

Your feet, having taken roots in the ground, moved of their own accord at last, carrying you to him swiftly as the soldiers hopped away, clearing your path with weary attempt at a smile. Your hands tore away from your chest and your face as you came to a halt in front of your beloved, eager to touch, aimlessly searching for a place to feel him without causing him pain.

Solving your dilemma for you, Steve was kind enough to reach out with his uninjured hand, cradling your wet cheek gently. You minded not the tremble in his fingers, covering his hand with yours, eyes fluttering shut to fully revel in the sensation you had believed you would never experience again; a sensation you had only had the fortune to savour in your dreams.

The sudden surge of panic had your eyes snap open, afraid you were still in the dreamland.

But you did not have to fear; Steve’s warm eyes observed you with endless affection still, melting into your touch as your hand found its way to his own cheek. His lips brushed your palm lovingly before he gently pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours with a breathy hiss of pain.

It was the display of agony he must have been in with every breath and the smallest of movements which finally untied your tongue, a waterfall of words falling from your lips.

“Steve---Steven, Steve, my love, what—how-“

Your fingers slipped to his nape, his pulse racing under your palm, the most precious thing you ever felt, only causing him to lean closer, nose brushing yours in a tender act of affection bringing fresh tears to your eyes.

Thump-thump-thump went his heart, a chant of love and life.

He was alive. Your beloved was alive.

“Druids. Luck. Divine intervention. I do not know, but it matters not. I am here,” he whispered, voice no less firm than within a battle cry.

I am here.

A promise. A declaration of love.

You found yourself yet again at loss for words, another sob escaping you instead. There were no words you were familiar with to do justice to your joy at this reunion. After countless of days, endless days of grief, he was standing there, holding your face in his hand and your whole heart as well.

Steve was alive.

“I made you a promise,” he continued in husky voice, “I told you I’d call upon your hand. It was all I could think of in the face of… of what I thought was the end.”

You squeezed his hand as to stop him, for it mattered not, not at this very moment, not ever, you would give him anything, everything, regardless of whether you were courting, married, or sneaking around and being the subjects of slander at the lower castle and the court alike.

As long as you should keep him, as long as he kept breathing, it mattered not if you could chant his name as you were now; falling from your lips like a prayer to whatever ancient force that brought him back to you.

And yet, you should have known better. Your Steven was a force of nature himself, stubborn and determined and proper. Time waited for no man and Steve could no longer wait for when fate would try to separate you again. He had to act in this very moment.

“Will you marry me, my sweet?”

You laughed, the joyful sound absurd in the circumstance; but your heart could burst as the reality of Steve holding you and asking you to marry him sank in at last, feeling as if the sun itself settled in your chest.

What choice did you have? What else could you possibly say when the gods were so merciful to give you a chance at bliss of spending your life side by side with a man you loved?

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

Cheers erupted around you, words of how sappy your future husband was, yet you could not care less, whatever the meaning the word possessed.

You had your Steven back; you had your heart sown together at once, waterfalls of grief turning into tears of undiluted happiness. Long path lied in front of you and it was not to be an easy one; Steven proposed, yes – in shaggy clothes, bloodied and dirty and with no ring to give you.

His proposal was far from flawless indeed; however, it was a promise. Not a promise of perfection, but a promise nevertheless. A promise of a beautiful life, for it would be with him.

And as you had learned upon daring to doubt him… your knight would always keep his promises to you. For that, he was a man far more noble than those who were born with nobility in their blood.

And he was yours. Always and to the end of the days – yours.

As much as you always would be his.

 Do not weep for me, my beautiful Marian, when the tower bell rings to honour soldiers, proud, My heart is silent, but in you there shall remain all the words that flare up like fire.

S.R. masterlist

Sequel - In the Name of All That’s Holy

Thank you for reading 💗 Feedback to this 13k beast is appreciated!

As you can see/hear, the song does NOT have a happy ending, but I just couldn’t… 😭 I couldn’t break her heart like that (AND MINE). Also, I was sent a cute knife along with a message as not to hurt knight Steve (yes, my beloved, I’m looking at YOU) 🤭

If you felt a bit of himbo energy from the knights in the beginning, know that Merlin is to blame. As he is for “dollop heads”.

(I never found whether the choice of a name ‘Marion’ has any particular meaning. I’ve always imagined her as a loyal woman in love, waiting for her kingdom’s hero to come home – I translated as Marian, for the resemblance with Lady/Maid Marian tied to Robin Hood legends. Up to interpretation.)