#but we can never know unless we see inside the author's head

[ceescedasticity]

I generally agree with this but am hesitant to condone blanket condemnation or even derogatoriness because "overt thematic structures on which the entire narrative is built" may sound objective, but it is not.

you cannot headcanon your way out of overt thematic structures on which the entire narrative is built

[zara-renata]

Q&A with Sylus Qin | ao3 | the Sylus series

Summary:

Sylus cares for your injuries and feeds you a meal. After he shows you a part of his home that you didn't know existed, you finally ask him why he was so cruel to you when you first met him. Sylus does his best to answer with as much honesty as he can right now.

Notes:

Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV Enemies-to-friends-to-lovers slow burn This story contains: hurt/comfort, allusions to wild speculation regarding Sylus's lore, mention of bodily injuries, canon character death, grief, canon violence toward mc, a meal and drinks laden with heavy-handed metaphors because the author has no self-restraint, lots of plants, sexual innuendo as a treat, alcohol use, and promises to treat each other with more care and honesty moving forward. I wrote this before I did Sylus's POV, and then both parts together seemed a little too long to force readers to endure so I split them. I hope the continuity makes sense.

“Can we talk?” you ask Sylus, as he leans against the doorframe, a lovely dream of silver hair, otherworldly eyes, pale skin and silver fur across his large pecs, arrowing from his navel to beneath his black, silken pants.

“Sure, kitten. Right after I bandage your feet.” He strolls into the bathroom, heading to the large black marble-topped vanity. He opens one of the cabinets and pulls out a large first aid kit and brings it over to where you’re sitting.

“So I’m not wandering around, bleeding all over your nice floors?” you ask, laughing softly, as he once again kneels before you, silver head bowed over your injured feet. You let your gaze drift from his soft hair to his strong shoulders, his big hands cradling your foot. Sylus on his knees does nothing to diminish his formidable presence. If anything, this position of supplication seems to highlight the inherent threat in the broad line of his shoulders, his powerful arms, his long legs folded beneath his big body. It’s like witnessing a dire wolf on a leash, a prehistoric creature bound only insofar that it’s willing to let itself be bound. You find yourself wanting to pull him to his feet, because you never want to see Sylus at anyone’s mercy, ever. Not even yours.

“Because the only blood that should be soaking your feet is that of your enemies. Otherwise, I refuse to see blood anywhere on you,” he answers, as if that’s a totally normal thing to say to someone. You just stare at his bowed head.

As he gently spreads some kind of soothing balm on the bottoms of your feet and wraps them securely in long stretchy bandages, you hear soft piano music drifting in from the bedroom. He must have put on a record while you were finishing up in the shower.

After the final bandage is secured, he rises to his feet. “Are you hungry?” he asks. You hadn’t thought about it, but now that he has mentioned it, you find yourself feeling almost dizzy with hunger. You nod, and shift to stand, but he just makes a “Tch” sound and scoops you into his arms.

“Are we done asking for permission to touch me already?” you ask him without any heat.

“You can just assume that until I’m satisfied that your feet are healing well, you will not be walking on your own two feet,” he informs you, which is such an absurd thought that it makes you laugh. “And from now on, you will tell me no if you honestly don’t want something from me.”

“Is that so?” You stare into his serious face, trying to figure out what is going on inside his head.

“Deal?” he asks gravely. He’s not joking. He wants this from you, and you realize that this is his way of asking for it.

“And if I say no, but don’t mean it?” you ask, curious.

“Don’t,” he says softly, with that same strained tone in his voice from the roadside. “I could use my aether core, and figure out what you really want. But I promised you that I wouldn’t, unless you ask it of me. Guessing whether you seriously don’t want something from me is a game I’d rather not play going forward.”

If you agree in good faith, then you will be agreeing to allow him to do the things for you that you want from him. And in doing so, it will serve as an admission to him regarding what you want from him. There will be no flimsy cover of token protest to shield yourself from the vulnerability of revealing your true desires—there can be no more lying to him, nor to yourself.

This idea terrifies you. But you’re so tired of being afraid. And it’s not like Sylus hasn’t been able to see through you regarding so many things, even after he stopped using his aether core on you. Is it so unfair of him to ask that you are honest with him, when all you’ve wanted from him this whole time is to figure out what he wants, which is essentially his honesty in return?

You’re terrified, but you feel brave, held tightly in his arms right now. Maybe you’ll regret it later. But that’s for future you to deal with.

“Okay, Sylus. Deal.” You rest your head against his warm pillow of a shoulder, and feel the way his chest expands with a big breath. “But as much as I’d like to use you as my personal mount until my feet don’t hurt anymore, you really can’t carry me everywhere for the next week. I have to get back to Linkon City. Work starts again the day after tomorrow.” You pause, trying to figure out what day it even is. Everything is such a blur since what feels like last night, but has it been longer? “Or even tomorrow,” you mumble. You feel so, so tired just thinking about it.

“Personal mount, huh? I guess I can offer personal mounting services upon request,” he says thoughtfully as horror rushes through you at what you just said. But Sylus seems unruffled as he continues. “And no, you don’t have to get back to Linkon City.” He strides into his bedroom and settles you on the freshly made bed, which apparently has had its silky black sheets changed because they’re not damp at all from your nightmare sweating. You blink up at him as he turns to fetch a large silver tray from the low table in the sitting area, and then brings it over and sets it on the bed next to you.

You’re so relieved that he treated your accidental innuendo so casually that you just pretend it didn’t happen. “Yes, I do. This was the last weekend of my leave. I’ve got to get back to it on Monday,” you counter, eyeing the food on the tray—thinly sliced steak, chunks of steaming baguette slathered in what looks like herbed butter, and strangely, an entire pomegranate, split in half. Some seeds have already fallen from the rind, and lay scattered like little jewels around the plate.

Sylus ignores you and sets a large glass of water on the nightstand next to you. “Do you want anything else to drink? I have a full bar,” he gestures to one of the huge, heavy pieces of wooden furniture that you didn’t recognize as a vintage booze cabinet until he pointed it out. 

“Damn, Sylus, is your liver okay?” You eye the size of that thing.

“Asks the hunter whose feet are shredded to bits after a midnight jaunt in the cold with no coat or shoes,” he sniffs. “Fine, but I’m making myself something. Eat.” He stands and heads over to the cabinet, opening it to reveal bottle after bottle of topshelf liquor. He tilts his head and hums a little tunelessly as he makes a selection.

You don’t have to be told twice to eat. You take one of the beautiful silver forks lined neatly next to the plate and start shoving steak into your mouth.

Having finally selected something and dumped a few fingers’ worth of liquor over a tumbler filled with ice, Sylus returns and sits next to you on the bed, back against the huge black leather-padded headboard. He quietly waits for you to finish stuffing your face while sipping his drink.

After you’ve demolished the steak, a few chunks of bread, and half the pomegranate’s seeds, you lean back as well, just basking in the feeling of calm, sated exhaustion. Sylus turns his head against the headboard and regards you with his bright, bright eyes.

“You wanted to talk,” he says.

“I wanted to talk,” you repeat.

He peacefully takes another sip of whatever he’s drinking. You close your eyes. Breathe deeply. The scent of the alcohol is heady, spicy. You open your eyes and return Sylus’s gaze. The words are stuck in your throat. You let your focus drift over to the bookshelves lined with books that look like they were chosen for aesthetics rather than content. They all have some combination of black and red designs, it’s ridiculous. 

Your thoughts on the stupid books are interrupted by the sensation of calloused fingertips running along your jaw. “Look at me,” Sylus says softly.

You have to do this. But you can’t get the image out of your head of Sylus’s long fingers drifting down the spines of those books just as they’re now drifting along your face. The way your heart was racing as you tried to sneak up on him for the brooch, which was your lifeline out of the hell you were in. Your only ticket to the auction, to answers to questions that had plagued you for months, to going home on your motorcycle instead of in a body bag, according to Sylus’s threats at the time. You don’t want to be in this room. You don’t want to be in this house.

You turn your head to look at him, and he must see it in your face. Suddenly his evol is lifting the glass from his hand, and at the same time he is leaning over, pulling you back into his arms. He lifts you, as he did before, one arm under your legs and the other cradling your shoulders. He pauses, slipping back into his houseshoes, and carries you out of the bedroom. This time, he takes you further into the house, down hallways you don’t remember walking down before. Eventually, he brings you into some sort of large …mudroom? The worn tiled floor is shockingly colorful, with a drain in the middle. Stacks of pots and bags of what look like dirt or fertilizer sit haphazardly on a long wooden table. An extensive hose is coiled beneath a huge farmhouse sink along one wall, and the wooden counter is covered in gardeners’ tools and watering cans. Wide windows above the sink look out into the dark night. Galoshes and rain boots are lined up neatly along the wall near the door. It’s homey in a way the rest of the house isn’t. Lived in. A bit messy. You like it very much.

Just as you think Sylus is going to make you have this conversation in the equivalent of a gardener’s shed, which you honestly wouldn’t mind, he continues to the door on the other side of the room. Again, he pauses to switch out his house shoes for a pair of galoshes. He looks a little silly, wearing the garden shoes with his silk sleep pants and nothing else, but as usual, he doesn’t seem to care what anyone else may think. The scarlet-ink tendrils of his evol then throw open the door and all of the thoughts in your head evaporate like rain on a hot summer day.

Because Sylus has just thrown open a door to another world—the heat and humidity hit you first, a soothing contrast to the chill air of the rest of the house. And then the smell—earth, decay and growth, a cacophony of floral scents. You turn your head and take in the slate-colored pebbled pathways leading in different directions from the door Sylus has just brought you through, winding through huge tropical plants, leaves heavy and dripping with moisture. Colorful birds twitter and shriek and coo as they shift in the trees overhead, flying under the soaring ceiling of what you now realize is a huge greenhouse. At periodic intervals along the path, torches in a modern, savage style, similar to the chandeliers in Sylus’s house, illuminate the way forward and the surrounding plants.

You just take it in, overwhelmed by the riot of life and colorful beauty of this veritable oasis in the desolation of the N109 zone and the contrast it poses to the austerity of Sylus’s dark, sophisticated home. Eventually the plants along the path Sylus has chosen thin and part to reveal a large pond, covered in gigantic flowering lily pads, a fountain in the middle. The fountain itself is a flowing sculpture, two figures locked in either battle or embrace. You’re overcome with a strange sense of familiarity— something about each figure’s proportions in relation to the other—how one has to look up into the face of the other—you look away. The flow of water from the fountain is a constant, soft hush underlying the birdcalls and swaying leaves, the skittering of little animals unseen under the vegetation. 

Next to the pond is a clearing built from the same bright, multi-colored patterned tiles as the mudroom. In the middle, there stands a large blond wooden garden bed, complete with a canopy and flowing gauzy drapes half obscuring the bed itself. As Sylus carries you closer, you realize the bed is also a swing.

“What in the garden fuck-bed, Sylus?” you breathe, because what the hell else would he use this thing for? Is this where he takes his dates for romantic wooing?

He looks at the bed. And then looks back down at you. “Well, kitten, it can be if you insist. That wasn’t my plan for tonight, but I’m nothing if not adaptable.”

You roll your eyes and poke him in his big man bosom. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t have that thing installed specifically to seduce dates out here in your own wild sex jungle.”

“Not everyone gets as excited about plants as you do, sweetheart. And I had it installed because even I like to relax in nature sometimes, without having to go for a ride north of Linkon.”

“But a… swinging bed?” You look back at it dubiously. It just seems so wildly romantic to you.

“Do you like it?” he asks, settling you down on the surprisingly soft mattress, covered in white linen sheets. Unlike his bed, this thing is piled high with pillows. You immediately roll over and bury your face in them. You hear a soft laugh from above you. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You just sigh happily.     

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink? I also have a bar here,” he says, and you laugh out loud. 

“Of course you do.” You finally look up from the pillows and see him through the bed’s drapes as he stands behind what you now see is very obviously a bar, built from the same light-colored wood as the bed, wooden stools lined up along its counter, torches on either side providing ambient light that is reflected off the neatly lined bottles of liquor.

“Okay, Sylus. I want a cocktail, with a little umbrella and a fruit skewer.”

“That can mostly be arranged. But you’ll have to be more specific. What kind of cocktail?” he asks with a slight lift to his full lips. He opens one of the cabinet doors and you see bottle after bottle of juice and other mixers.

“Surprise me,” you say, rolling onto your side so you can watch his big hands pull out a deep red bottle of juice and some sort of storage container. 

He nods. “Fine, but if you don’t like it, I don’t want to hear any complaints.” 

“No deal. I reserve the right to whine very loudly if I don’t like it.”

“Is that so? Not really the whining I’d prefer from you,” he says, smiling in a way that reveals one sharp canine. As your brain short circuits, he continues. “I guess I’ll have to do my best to please you, to spare the birds from having to endure the consequences if I fail.” He proceeds to competently mix the drink, shaking it in a cocktail shaker and pouring it over ice in a low, heavy bottomed glass.

You’re shocked as he digs around in a drawer and pulls out a little black umbrella, plopping it into your drink as a final touch. He then grabs a glass for himself, pours from the same liquor bottle that he used to make your cocktail, and brings both glasses over to you. He sets his own on a little table next to the bed, and hands you yours. He then sits next to you on the bed, one leg crossed beneath him, one foot on the ground.

You sit up, taking the offered glass carefully, and stare down into the ruby colored liquid. “Where’s the fruit skewer?”

“The fruit’s in the drink, you spoiled creature. Try it.” He picks his glass back up, but just looks at you. Waiting for you to drink.

You take a sip. It’s delicious—not too sweet, a little bitter. And strong. You can feel the warmth of the liquor spreading through your belly. You swirl the liquid, and little pomegranate seeds bob to the surface.

“I’m sensing a theme,” you murmur, looking back into his satisfied face.

“Must be your imagination,” he sniffs. “It’s an Old Fashioned, made with pomegranate juice. In case you were wondering.”

“I was,” you smile. “And thank you. It’s delicious.”

He looks pleased. He holds his glass up. “Toast with me.”

You eye him. “What are we toasting?”

“You,” he says simply. You wait. He just looks at you. 

“And what have I possibly done that deserves toasting tonight?”

“You’re here right now, with me. That’s enough for me.”

Your heart, which had been quiet ever since you crossed the threshold into the greenhouse’s mudroom, kicks a little. He sounds so terribly sincere. You lift the glass to his, and he gently taps his against yours.

He then brings his glass back to his lips. He pauses, inhales deeply, and takes a drink, closing his eyes. 

You both sip quietly, listening to the sounds of the fountain, the fluttering of birds’ wings. Your gaze drifts over the array of orchids growing at the edge of the clearing, nestled under huge palms drooping over clusters of fruit you don’t recognize. You love it here. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so relaxed while being surrounded by nature. There have always been other people present in the public spaces you would visit to try to get away, on your precious days off. Their presence, the possibility that they’re observing, judging you, as you try to enjoy the botanical garden or hiking trail is always a constant itch under your skin. The closest you have ever gotten to this feeling of riotous life, space, and peaceful solitude is from the houseplants hanging in your bedroom.

You’ve had half the cocktail now, and a pleasant heaviness weighs down your body. You look at Sylus. “I think this is enough, for now.”

He nods, and takes your glass from you. He sets his own down, and goes to the bar again. When he returns, he hands you a glass of water. “Drink.”

You nod in turn, and empty the glass. And then you sit, fiddling with it.

“It’s time, sweetheart,” Sylus finally says. “Tell me what’s on your mind now.”

You take a deep breath and clutch the glass. You can do this now. You can’t look at him as you speak, but you can say what you need to say amidst all this life, with the soft linen against your skin, and Sylus’s steady presence at your side.

“I don’t understand how you can treat me with such kindness now, when you were so cruel to me when we first met. You scared me, Sylus. You hurt me. You treated me like something inconvenient that you had stepped in and needed to scrape off the bottom of your shoe, except you also needed something from me. And now, you wash my feet for me. You hold me when I’m tired. You treat me like I’m someone you care about.” You look back at him, suddenly overcome again with the images flooding into your mind again, of what it was like to be in his grasp the first time you were in this house. You take another shaky breath. “But nothing has changed. I’m still me—the same person you strangled within five minutes of seeing me for the first time. I resonated with you after the auction, so you didn’t have to do anything else to ensure that I’d be able to resonate with you again. I can’t reconcile these two Syluses,” you finish.

You wanted to have this conversation. And now you’re having it. You watch as he gently takes the glass from your hands and sets it on the side table. He then turns on his side, so he’s fully facing you. He leans down and gently coaxes you down next to him, so the both of you are sharing a pillow, sharing the same breath. The bed slowly sways with the movement of your bodies. He runs his fingers from your jaw, down your neck and over your shoulder, until his hand comes to rest in the dip of your waist as you lie on your side facing him. The tie of your silken robe has loosened, and the dark fabric pools in the small between you.

“I will answer your question, as best as I can right now.” He pauses to make sure you’re focused on him. “I didn’t realize at the time how much I was hurting you when we… first met. All of my intel led me to believe that you’d respond better to a challenge than to honey. Especially because you were convinced that I was behind the bombing that killed your family.” He runs the hem of your tank top between his fingers, knuckles brushing the skin of your stomach. “Would you have believed me, if I had insisted that what the Association had told you about me was wrong?”

You think back to your certainty, at the time, when you first kneeled in front of this man. The months leading up to that moment, hearing rumors about Onychinus, how dangerous and ruthless its leader was. The certainty, and the hate that underpinned every move you made as you prepared to infiltrate the N109 Zone. No. You wouldn’t have believed him if he had tried to deny everything you were convinced was true. You shake your head, just a little, still searching his face. He looks so soft, in the warm glow of the torches and the riot of green surrounding the bed.

“No. You wouldn’t have. So, I weighed my options in terms of strategy. I couldn’t quickly convince you that I wasn’t the completely depraved boogeyman you had been led to believe, nor could I convince you that I wasn’t responsible for what happened to your family. But I needed you working with me, and not against me. If I couldn’t ask you nicely, I needed to leverage whatever I could get to force you to help me. Answers to your questions, the other half of the aether core, and your own freedom from my terrible clutches was that leverage. I also needed to see just how strong you were, because I knew the aether core was in your heart and that you probably had capabilities you weren’t even aware of based on the discrepancies between my intel about you and what I know an aether core can do. So I was placing all my bets on … motivating you to fight back, forcing you to reveal the true extent of  your strength so I knew what I was working with. I was also hoping that you would come to realize the true extent of your strength that you weren’t even aware of in the process.”

You soak in everything he has just said. It seems so preposterous. “So that’s why… you threatened me? Taunted me? Called me a disappointment? Threw me in front of that huge mech to see if I’d live or die? Deprived me of water? Starved me?” You clench your teeth, trying to keep the tears from flowing again. You’re so done with crying for the next century.

“Yes,” he says, simply, red eyes seeming to glow as they search yours. He moves his hand back to your face, cupping your cheek in his big, warm palm. “What you didn’t know at the time was that I was prepared to intervene the moment it looked like you couldn’t handle it. But I knew you could handle it. I knew you could handle everything I did to you.” You feel your lip trembling, and his gaze drops to your mouth. “I just didn’t realize how much it would cost you to handle it.” His thumb runs down your cheek and sweeps along your lower lip, pressing gently. “I believe that the end justifies the means. That a certain level of collateral damage is inevitable, and even acceptable, if the reward is big enough. But if I could go back and do it again,” he pauses, watching his thumb as he continues to caress your lip. “I don’t think I’d be able to do it again. Even if it was the most efficient method at the time to find out what I needed to know, and to compel you to work with me.”

Despite the aching tenderness of his touch against your lips, you scowl at him. “Sylus, you choked me until I blacked out. In what universe is that just ‘challenging’ me to realize my inner strength? I can’t respond with some sort of magical anime transformation into some final badass form if I’m fucking unconscious!” you bite out. For the first time in this whole conversation, he looks a little sheepish.

“Sweetheart. I’m not a good man. You know this. Even if the Association’s intel is exaggerated and wrong ninety percent of the time, I do bad things to get good results. And… sometimes, I get carried away. And I was…” He pauses, and you’re flabbergasted that this typically smug, arrogant, self-assured asshole is actually at a loss for words. “Would you buy it, if I told you I was excited to meet you?”

“You’re asking if I believe that you were excited… to meet me. And so you choked me?” you ask dubiously. 

“Maybe I was excited to meet you. So I might have misjudged how long I could… squeeze before you really blacked out. Usually I have much more control,” he shrugs, as if discussing his golf swing and not his knack for strangling people.

You try to imagine that he was so excited to meet you and therefore choked you out in the same way an overeager puppy will bite too hard and pee on your shoes. How nice would that be? If this was all some huge misunderstanding. That his cruelty was an accident, and not intentional. But he asked if you’re willing to buy it—he has not said that it’s the truth. And you’re not buying it. He was so intensely cruel, from the very beginning. It wasn’t fake. His reputation as Onychinus’s brutal leader is not a misunderstanding, even if it’s not the whole truth. And neither is the fact that he strangled and starved you.

“So you want me to buy the assertion that you were so happy to meet me that you accidentally strangled me to the point of unconsciousness and so committed to the bit of being a villain that you then proceeded to traumatize me with starvation and violence for the next three days.” You stare into his ridiculous, beautiful, red eyes and feel that same sense of unreality that is so often paired with this man. Wine and cheese. Guns and ammo. Absurdity and Sylus. You let yourself believe this comforting lie, just for a moment. “I wouldn’t even know how to process that.”

As always with Sylus, you can’t help it. The noise that comes out of your throat isn’t human. You snort, the laughter violently trying to escape your body. You laugh directly in his stupid handsome face, because you’re so close to him on the pillow, and you’re loud. You hear the sound of birds suddenly taking flight, probably startled by the sounds coming out of you. You laugh, and laugh, and laugh. He watches you carefully through it all, as if he can’t quite believe how easily you’ve swallowed his lie.

After a long, lovely time where you just release the rest of all of the months of tension that you’ve been carrying, deep deep down, you raise your hand and bop his nose. “Do I need a rolled up newspaper to swat you if you ever get over-enthusiastic again and decide to put me in a full nelson or garrotte me because you’re so excited to see me?”

“If you’re ever on the other side of my garrotte or in one of my full nelsons, sweetie, the newspaper will not help you,” he grumbles. He slings his arm over your waist and scoots closer to you. “And I’ve seen you with little dogs. Mosquito, was it? Termite? You’d never swat one with a newspaper.”

“Cricket, you barbarian. But you’re not a little doggy, are you?” you tease, bopping him on the nose again.

He catches your finger in his teeth, and this time he bites down. You shake your hand, trying to dislodge him with a laugh. He lets go. “No, I’m a big, bad man,” he smiles softly at you.

“Yeah, you are,” you agree, just lying there, taking in his long, uneven nose, the dark sweep of his eyelashes. “So you get the newspaper.”

Sylus groans. “I can think of other things I’d much rather get,” he murmurs, eyes trailing from yours to your mouth and back again.

For a moment, you’re paralyzed, caught in the intensity of his gaze. Even now, how he manages to make an innocuous statement sound so… you refuse to think about it. He’s your friend . You’re having a serious conversation. A conversation that needs to be finished, properly.

“But Sylus, I don’t buy that explanation. At all. You need to try again. And be honest, this time. It’s only fair, since you’re asking me for honesty moving forward. I don’t believe you when you tell me that you never would never have let me actually get hurt. That you were just so eager to meet me that you lost your self control. Because you did actually hurt me. And I don’t believe that you were just testing me, and that you just wanted to be my friend, all along. Because you could have tested me in other ways. You didn’t have to go to such extremes to see what I am capable of.”

The amusement fades from Sylus’s face as you speak, and when you’re done, he looks… relieved. “It’s true, I didn’t want to be your friend,” he begins, and absurdly, your heart hurts a little. Well, that’s okay. You didn’t know you wanted to be his friend back then, either. He’s quiet for a long breath, and then he sighs. “You’re right. I was eager to finally meet you, but nothing I did to you was an accident. I needed you to believe that I was your villain. I thought you would collapse without the hatred keeping you strong. I was mistaken. That is the truth. And that’s the only part of the truth I can give you, right now.”

You close your eyes. Is this enough for you?

He speaks into your silence. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I treated you with such violence when we first met. If I could go back and do it again, I’d do it differently. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that, no matter how confident I was in your ability to handle it, and no matter what I was feeling at the time.”

You open your eyes and search his face. He just looks back at you, a sincerity in his expression that rarely comes through. “So are you telling me that this is the real Sylus? Who you’ve been to me, since the auction. And the Sylus I first met… that’s just you when you wear the mask of Onychinus’s leader?”

“No,” he says, to your relief. Because you don’t believe that he’s only one, and not the other, no matter how much easier that would make having him in your life. His denial proves that he is having this conversation in good faith—he’s not trying to convince you he’s only a good man who sometimes does bad things, and that all the horrors are simply a mask. “I’m insisting that I never expected to be able to hurt you as deeply as I did. That no matter what, I didn’t want to hurt you as much as I ultimately have.” He strokes your side with his thumb, for once not looking into your eyes. His gaze elsewhere, somewhere past you. “I am not a good man. I am not the supervillain you thought you were facing during those three days, but I am Onychinus’s leader, and all that such a role entails—it’s not some mask I put on. It’s who I am.” His gaze returns to you, as if asking a question.

“I know.” You whisper, and you think the relief intensifies in his eyes. “I just needed to hear you admit it.”

He nods, just once. But you’re not done.

“But you need to understand. Although you’ve explained what you did to me, your reasoning behind it… and although you’ve apologized for it—it doesn’t erase anything.” You watch him carefully, trying to read into every breath, every lift of his brows, the tightening around his eyes, the dilation of his pupils. “You did hurt me. I trust you when you say you didn’t intend to hurt me to this extent, but you did intend to hurt me. You didn’t stop yourself. And that was when we hadn’t even really met, when you had no reason to hate me. I hadn’t done anything to you at all. What happens, when you do finally get angry with me? What happens, if I ever manage to hurt you?” You’re shocked when you see an almost imperceptible flinch when you say that he had no reason to hate you. But it’s so brief. He glances away, but looks back at you almost immediately. He moves his hand to your cheek as if he just wants to feel your skin under his fingers, and then grasps your jaw in his rough hand. Gently, but firmly. And then he speaks, with the solemnity of a knight pledging an oath to his sovereign. 

“I would let you carve out my heart with your blades before I would ever intend to truly hurt you, regardless of what you make me feel. And you can’t hurt me in any way that would change that fact.” When he finishes, he lets his hand fall back to your waist.

There’s more to this. There’s more to what he has explained. The feelings he mentioned earlier, after he explained his strategy. You don’t believe that his brutality was a result of over-eagerness to meet you—it was some other emotion. Something that felt a lot like barely controlled rage, or grief. His subtle reaction to the idea that there was no reason for him to be so malicious towards you. The fact that he seems to be so invested in you, when you’re just… you. An average hunter with no special qualities besides the aether core in your heart. An aether core which is more of a liability than an advantage at this point, judging by the way your heart is aching. Just you, with enough emotional baggage to sink a warship. 

Your mind races, trying to sift through every mission you’ve ever been on for the Association. Trying to pinpoint if you could have ever crossed paths with Sylus before, without knowing it. But there’s nothing. He was a phantom to you, ever since you first heard his name. Something in you knows that he will not answer, even if you ask. So you don’t. This has to be enough, for now. You have to choose to trust the parts of the truth he’s telling you now, even if it’s not the whole truth, or you have to walk away.

“I know there are things that you’re not telling me. And that’s okay. There are things that I don’t want to know—now, or ever. Partially because if anyone ever figures out that we have a connection, and they want me to roll over on you, I don’t want to have that information in my head. I want plausible deniability. Not only for my work, but in case someone else tries to pry something out of me with force. I don’t want to be able to give them what they want even if I wanted to, if they break me.” Sylus’s brows furrow, and his hand tightens on your waist. “So I’m not going to ask you to explain. And I’m telling you now—I only want to know the details of your life as Onychinus’s leader that you think I absolutely need to know.”

“And the details of my life, apart from being the leader of Onychinus?” he whispers.

He sounds so different when he speaks softly like this. Accessible, instead of so far away. Within reach, instead of flying so far ahead of you.

“I want to know everything you are okay with sharing,” you answer. Because it’s true, and a lot less unhinged than saying, everything, everything, everything .

“Does this mean that you’ll stop trying to leave me?” 

You think back to earlier tonight, when you thought Sylus was going to tear you apart for hurting Kieran. For damaging the car. For simply being a nuisance. You were prepared to let him, because you care for him and you felt like it was deserved. You’re tempted to tell him the rest of it. Because even if you accept the punishment as just—your parents leaving you behind, probably because of your fucked up heart. Your partners cheating on you, because you were physically or emotionally unavailable. Sylus’s fist, for hurting someone he treats as more than an employee. You have always been willing to accept the punishment. But after, you never let yourself be caught in that same situation, with that same person, ever again. If you ever knowingly run into your parents on the street, you’d just keep walking. Past lovers who cheated, you cut so thoroughly from your life that it was like they never existed in it at all. You know yourself. If Sylus ever treats you the way he did when you first met—he will never see you again. If you deserve to receive pain from him, you’ll take it. But then you’re gone. Your heart hurts, considering saying these words. As a warning, and a promise, that you’ve never offered to anyone else. 

Sylus’s strained voice interrupts your thoughts. “Is this your answer?”

You follow his furrowed gaze and see the swirling gold and scarlet shackles tying your wrist to his.

Apparently it wasn’t a choice at all, to answer him truthfully. “Yes,” you say, and feel like crying at the thought of having to leave him behind. But you will, if you ever fall from this strange pedestal he seems to have placed you on, and turns on you in the way you’ve seen him turn on those he considers not worthy of his respect or his generosity. “If you ever hurt me like you did when we first met again. Do you understand?”

He closes his eyes, inhales sharply. As if something hurts. When he opens them, you’re shocked by how bright they are. “I understand.” He pulls his hand to his chest, dragging your linked wrist with it. He then presses your hand over his heart. “If I ever hurt you again, you have my permission to rip this out, with your bare hands.”

The idea of Sylus hurting in any way—and worse, the idea of his pain being at your hands, upsets you so much that you feel like crying again. You press your hand gently into his chest. “Why can’t you do anything like a normal person? Do you always have to be so extra?” He lets out a little huff of surprise. “It’s enough that you’ve said you’re sorry. And that you’ve promised not to treat me like that again. I don’t want your heart on a platter.”

“Too late,” he murmurs, leaning in until his forehead is resting against your chest, right over your own heart. He’s still clutching your hand to his own chest.

You have no idea how this happened. You have no idea what he means when he says that it’s too late. As if you’ve already ripped his heart out, and carry it with you on a silver tray like the one he served you food on earlier. How did you acquire the affection of this wild, dangerous creature when all you’ve managed to do is not get killed through the blur of grief-filled days since you met him? You can’t make sense of any of it, right now. You’re so tired, from tonight, from all the nights before, stretching back through the months since your family was murdered. But you have the feeling that right now, Sylus is also exhausted, and is carrying a sorrow that you’ll be lucky if he ever shares with you. All you can do is press your hand more firmly to his body, to lean into him in return, to let him take whatever comfort he can from your own body, as you both lie here, tied together by shimmering strands of energy and heartache, surrounded by all this thriving life nestled in a barren wasteland.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

the kraken's girl

pairing: alien!Seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: smut, mild fluff and mild comedy. minors dni.

warnings: monsterfucking, tentacles, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), double penetration, male masturbation, oral sex (f rec), dirty talk, multiple creampies, brat!reader, switch!cheol, exhibitionism

word count: 3.4k

summary: neither you nor seungcheol expected to blow up twitter after your sex-nanigans. but that didn't stop you from meeting up again.

Author's note: happy halloween beloveds! this is the next installment of Vodka Slime. major thanks to @gyuwoncheol and @smileysuh for proofreading and screaming in my draft loves🥰

disclaimer: the twitter usernames used in the fic were randomly picked, any resemblance with real twitter usernames is 100% coincidental.

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

Fifty thousand followers. Fifty fucking thousand new people followed your Twitter account within a single night, all thanks to the two minute clip you uploaded before falling asleep. 

Your head is spinning with shock and excitement, arousal coursing through your body as you read the retweets one by one.

“GIRL WHO IS THIS”

“monster cock at its FINEST”

“me when me when me WHEN”

“eating a brick wall as we speak”

“i’ve never felt more submissive and breedable in my life before”

You giggle every time you scroll down, biting your thumbnail and kicking your feet like a kid who did something naughty. Although you’re not a kid anymore, your tendencies are definitely on the naughty side.

As if on cue, you receive a message from Seungcheol, who also retweeted your post on his account.

cherry_csc: we really caused a ruckus huh

You rapidly type back.

prettylilfreak: ikr ppl were STOKED

You receive another message from him.

cherry_csc: we can always make another one yk? 

cherry_csc: if you’re down i’m down too

You rub your thighs at the thought of fucking Seungcheol (and his tentacles) again, but this time, you’re not 100% sure about filming it.

prettylilfreak: why don’t we discuss it over brunch? i know a place that makes mean choco waffles

prettylilfreak: unless aliens are allergic to waffles or smth

cherry_csc: if i told you i have never eaten waffles before would you believe me?

prettylilfreak: i’ve seen worse from you tbh

cherry_csc: ok fair point

cherry_csc: send me the address and the date, i’ll be there

prettylilfreak: cool, see you soon <3

You search for the restaurant and book a table for two, sending the info of the reservation to Seungcheol a few seconds later. You close your phone and let it plop down next to your pillow. You lay flat on your bed with a stupid grin on your face, your insides still squelching with need.

You turn your head towards your nightstand and open the last drawer where you keep all of your toys. 

Just a quick one won’t hurt, you think and grab the tentacle-shaped dildo, licking your lips.

If only it was as good as the real thing.

“Damn, these waffles are really amazing.” Seungcheol gulps down a hefty bite of his choco waffles.

“I told you so! They are delicious.” You mirror his actions.

“Although I think you taste better than the waffles.” He sends you a wink and you nearly choke on your food.

“Damn, no need to die from waffles!” He passes you a glass of water and you drink it all in one go.

“And there was no need to spit out stuff like that without warning!” You try to clear your throat.

“Sorry, that wasn’t my intention.” He rubs his neck awkwardly.

“Waffles and choking aside, I think we should pick up the conversation from where we left it off.”

“You mean the Twitter DMs? Sure, I’m all ears.” Seungcheol wipes his lips with a paper towel.

“So, about that….I must admit that I had one hell of a time with you that night, and…”

“And?”

“And I definitely wouldn’t mind if we repeated it.”

Seungcheol licks his bottom lip seductively.

“But I have a condition.” 

“Name it.”

“I don’t want to film anything for my account.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh. I certainly didn’t expect that.”

“Are you disappointed?” You toy with your fingers.

“What? No, of course not! It’s your account after all, you’re calling the shots in the end.” He reassures you. “Can I ask why though?”

“Let’s just say that I want to….experiment with you.” You rest your face between your palms.

“Experiment? What are you, a NASA researcher?”

“No, but you left some unanswered questions and I want answers.”

“Oh, so that’s what it is about.”

You smack your lips. “I’m glad you catch on quickly, it saves me a lot of talking.” 

“You need to clarify some things first, sweetheart.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Seungcheol.”

“I beg to differ, doll.” He purrs the petname on purpose and you feel a chill running down your spine.

You stuff your mouth with more waffles, chomping on them like a starved animal to avoid answering to Seungcheol.

“You’re so stubborn, but I guess that’s part of your charm.” He plays with his bottom lip as he watches the cutlery in your hands move with light speed.

“Eat as much as you can, doll. You’re gonna need a lot of energy for later.”

The fork and knife fall from your hands and clack on the plate as you try your best to swallow the bite in your mouth.

“You….need to be restrained.” You point your finger towards his face in a menacing way.

“Hmm, I can think of a way.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You can always fuck around and find out.”

You stare at the smirking man in front of you, contemplating his indirect proposal.

“You motherfucker.”

“How the fuck do you afford an apartment like this?!” You yell as soon as you enter Seungcheol’s home.

“I might be an alien, but I’ve been on Earth for over a decade. I think it’s enough time to learn how to make money.” He replies as he takes off his shoes and jacket.

“I don’t think I want to indulge my curiosity about your personal life right now…” You mutter.

“I know you don’t, Y/N.” He grips your thighs and puts your legs around his waist, carrying you like this all the way to the bedroom. 

“I guess your tentacles and cock aren’t the only strong parts of your body.” You grip his shoulders as he carefully lays you down on the double-sized bed.

“Not to brag, but I spend a lot of hours at the gym to keep myself in that shape.” He grins and rolls his hips against your crotch.

 You suck a harsh breath through your teeth. “If you do this one more time, I swear to God I won’t be able to hold back.”

“That’s okay, doll. That’s why I’m here -  To keep you in check.”

Seungcheol frees himself from the iron grip of your legs and straightens his back. You feel slightly intimidated by his muscular build, but the intimidation molds into heady arousal when he discards his clothes one by one, until he’s utterly naked.

“Your turn, baby. Take them off.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You taunt him.

His voice grows stern. “Take off your clothes or I will rip them to shreds.” 

You swallow thickly and take off your t-shirt, followed by your jeans. Your hands shyly creep behind your back and they toy with the clasp of your bra.

“There’s no need to be shy with me, Y/N.” Seungcheol kneels on the bed and cages your legs with his muscular thighs. “Now, take off the bra like a good girl.”

You exhale shakily and unclasp your bra, you slide the straps off your shoulders and remove it from your body, your nipples perking up.

“Perfect. So fucking perfect.” Seungcheol mutters before he pushes you towards the headboard and climbs on top of you.

“Don’t you want me to take off my panties?” You ask.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you want to slide your big, mean cock inside my pussy, Cheol?” You pout your lips on purpose and roll your clothed pussy against his naked shaft.

“I don’t think it’s going to happen today, doll.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Then why the f-”

Seungcheol shushes you with his finger on your lips. “I’ll make it all worth it, I promise. Now, I want you to sit across the headboard. Can you do that for me?”

“You better keep your promise, otherwise I’ll block you from my socials!” You crawl on the other edge of the bed with a grumpy look on your face.

Seungcheol gets comfortable against the headboard. “This is barely our second time together, but I don’t plan on dumping you, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes. “The way I’ve heard the last part so many times from other men.”

“First of all, I am not a feeble human, even if I have human appearance. And most importantly…” His tentacles appear from his back and slide around his thighs.

“No man would ever do the things I’m about to show you.”

“That sounds pretty ambitious to me, Cheol.”

“I am ambitious, doll. And meeting like-minded people strengthens my own ambitions.”

You flash a sultry smirk. "Good to know we're on the same page."

The tentacles keep gliding over Seungcheol's body, leaving a slimy trail on his skin.

"Remember when you asked me about my tentacles spitting stuff?"

"I do. And what about it?"

"Watch and you'll find out, doll."

You nearly gasp when two thick tentacles wrap around Seungcheol's thighs and hold them apart, exactly the same way your thighs were spread. 

But he doesn't stop there.

Another tentacle binds his wrists above his head, rendering him completely helpless and exposed.

"Sheesh, didn't know you had an exhibitionism kink going on, Cheol." You rub your thighs together.

"I've never done this before, so consider yourself lucky." 

"You've never jerked yourself before?"

"More like I've never used additional help to jerk off before."

Two more tentacles appear in front of him, one morphing into a literal fleshlight and the other approaching his rim dangerously.

"Are you sure you wanna do this, Cheol?"

"One fucking hundred percent, doll."

The fleshlight engulfs Seungcheol's cock completely and the other tentacle slides into his hole simultaneously, making him cry out in pleasure.

"H-Hah, ah, f-fuh…."

"Shit, Cheol, that's-"

"Nothing I cannot handle, s-sweetheart."

He bites his bottom lip when the fleshlight starts sucking his cock and the other appendage thrusts in his ass rather strongly.

You never expected him to pull off this stunt and truth be told, it has you soaking through your panties and clenching around emptiness.

He's struggling to keep his eyes open from how good his own tentacles are making him feel - sweat has started to form on his forehead and neck, his skin turning glossy.

"Does it feel that good?" You ask him, rubbing your thighs together.

"Stop pretending to be sympathetic, I know you enjoy w-watching me like this." Seungcheol groans as he digs his nails into his palms. "But yeah, it f-feels good." His thighs jolt with each thrust and suck delivered by the tentacles occupying his sensitive spots.

You're certain the fabric of your panties has turned into second skin from how much you've soaked them and you haven't even been touched yet. This is the first time you're affected by a man to this degree and you almost feel embarrassed. Almost.

"Fuuuuck, that shit is so good." Seungcheol leans his head back and his puffy lips fall apart, deep moans filling the room with the same speed his tentacle is filling up his hole. The fleshlight picks up the pace and starts sucking his cock harder and his hips buck up, but the slimy restraints keep him down effectively.

"A-Are you cumming, Cheol?" You ask him, "Because I might do so, untouched."

"Don't you fucking dare." He growls at you for a split second, but his expression forms into one of pure bliss as he finally reaches his climax, loads of cum being milked from his cock.

You fist the sheets beside you and bite your bottom lip to suppress your whines as you watch Seungcheol lose control thanks to his own tentacles, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to calm down from his intense orgasm. The tentacle that was torturing his hole retracts slowly and your eyes fixate on the slimy residues all over his cock and ass. The restraints on his wrists and thighs disappear as well and his arms drop down on his sides with a loud groan.

Blond hair streaks are stuck on his forehead, sweat is dripping down his chest and his breaths are ragged and heavy. 

But his gaze still lingers on you.

"That was….fucking insane."

"I take it you…. enjoyed the show, doll?" 

You spread your legs and show him your drenched panties, a low whistle blowing from his lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I don’t want to sound greedy or anything but… I’m kind of suffering here.” You point towards your pussy and he gives you a lopsided smirk.

“I know you are. But worry not, the real fun starts now, Y/N.”

Seungcheol snaps his fingers and two tentacles attach themselves around your ankles, dragging you directly in front of him. You yelp when he puts his hands on your waist and he flips you over with little effort, propping your ass up and pushing your waist down.

He runs his hand from your waist to the curve of your ass. “Mmm, that’s a pretty arch you have, baby.” 

He squeezes your flesh and gives it a sharp smack, a gasp echoing in the room. You wince away from him, but his hand on your waist keeps you in your place.

“Stop teasing me and fuck me already!” You whine in defeat.

“How do you want me to fuck you?”

“I don’t care! I just want you to fill me up until I can’t think straight anymore!” You shake your ass in an attempt to entice him.

“I can definitely do that, doll.” Seungcheol uses both hands to rip your panties apart and throw them on the floor. He pries your lips apart with his thumbs and hisses when your slick runs down from your entrance and glides on your clit.

“But I might have to get a taste of that pussy before fucking it.”

He catches your honey with the tip of his tongue right before it falls on the sheets and moans at the taste of it. He slowly rolls the tip around your bundle of nerves and you bite the sheets to muffle your noises. 

“I want to hear your voice, Y/N. It’s unfair to hear it only through your twitter posts and not directly from you.” He actually begs you and it has you keeling over.

“What’s unfair is you trying to beg me to moan, when you know I can’t resist your pleas, Seungcheol.” You grumble, yet you push your ass closer to his face. “Now, I would like you to use your pretty mouth to- AH!”

Seungcheol grips your ass and smothers his face in your drenched cunt, his tongue rubbing your clit and his nose nudges your hole. You can feel the curves of his lips savoring your juices and you can hear the sloppy noises they create - pure music to your ears.

“So, mmfh, fucking delicious…” He purrs against your pussy, “Makes me wanna - umffh- keep you by my side forever.”

Your walls clench harder than before and so does your heart - but you choose to shove that piece of information in the back of your head. It’s a bit early for that, you think.

You let out a particularly whiny moan when he circles his tongue around your hole and he laughs when more of your slick gushes out, but this time, he lets it drip down on his lap.

“I don’t know what’s messier, my tentacles or your pussy?”

“S-Shut up!”

He slaps your ass. “Don’t talk back to me, doll.”

“Or what? You’re gonna rail me until I pass out?”

Seungcheol clicks his tongue in annoyance and musters the strength he has left in his thighs to climb on top of your body, as if he’s about to mount you. Your breath hitches in your throat when he plants one hand next to your head and uses the other to pull your head back.

“That is actually a wonderful idea, sweetheart.” His lips barely touch the shell of your ear, but his voice is enough to make your spine shudder.

You open your mouth to give him a snarky reply, but the oxygen is knocked out of your lungs when two of his tentacles fill up your ass and pussy without warning, fitting tighter than a glove. He lets go of your hair and cages your wrists with his hands, rendering you immovable.

“See what happens when you talk back to me, doll?”

“F-Fuck, s-so f-full….”

“Yeah? You have no idea how full you’re gonna be after I’m done with you.” 

You can feel his cock resting on your ass and twitching with need.

"Remember when you asked me if my tentacles can spit stuff?"

"Y-Yeah?" You try to keep your brain intact, but the tentacles thrusting in your holes make it hard for you.

Seungcheol presses his lips right behind your ear and sucks on your earlobe. His voice has dropped to a mere whisper.

"They do and it's all mine."

Your eyes start fluttering when you feel his thick cock slide between your cheeks and fuck them as if he was really fucking your pussy - even if he somehow does it.

The tentacles ram you almost violently, the little suckers gliding against your walls. You're at Seungcheol's mercy, unable to move, unable to think and unable to form coherent sentences - just a pretty little toy for a hot alien and his slimy tentacles.

And you fucking love every single second of it. 

"C-Cheollie, I wanna cum! Please!" You cry out, hands fisting the bedsheets.

"Yeah? You're close, sweetheart?" 

"Fuck, I am!"

"Go on then, let go for me." He kisses your temple and fucks your asscheeks harder.

You finally cum and it hits you like a raging waterfall, your entire body shaking and trembling like an autumn leaf trying to stay on the tree before it's blown away. 

"Hang in there, doll, we're almost t-there." Seungcheol's ragged breath fans over your cheekbone, his hands letting go of your wrists to grip your waist.

His tentacles come to a halt and throb inside you, pumping your holes full of his cum, until a few drops start slipping out.

Fresh tears run down your cheeks when the tentacles detach from your holes, wincing when the sticky mess flows out of you. Your moans are growing louder every time Seungcheol's pelvis slaps against the curve of your ass, his nails digging in your skin.

"Such a great fucking ass, all mine to fuck, ugh!" He throws his head back as he cums, splashing his load all over your back and ass, painting it white. He pumps his cock with his hand a few times before smacking the tip over your ass.

"Cheol…..I can't move…" You pout your lips tiredly.

"I know, baby, I know." He gets up and pats your head before disappearing from the room.

A few minutes later, he comes back with a clean towel and the feeling of the soft cotton wiping you clean from the sticky mess covering your back and private parts almost puts you to sleep.

"Hey, don't fall asleep yet, I need to actually wash you." Seungcheol gently rubs the towel over your spent holes.

"Will you carry me to the bathroom?"

He lets out a chuckle. "Well, it's not like I have any other choice, since you technically can't walk."

"I wonder whose fault is that, huh." You mumble against the mattress.

"I'm sorry, doll." Seungcheol swipes your hair away from your face, "Although I did enjoy fucking you dumb."

You support your upper half on your arms. "To be completely honest, I really enjoyed it - hell, I asked for it."

He catches your lips in a short yet gentle and sweet kiss, melting into his pillowy lips.

"We can always-"

"Repeat it?"

"No," Seungcheol picks you up in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. "I mean, I would love to, but I would prefer to take you out on a proper date first."

"Oh? I didn't know aliens had romantic tendencies." You joke.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Y/N. And I'm pretty sure there are lots of things I don't know about you."

"Are you saying you actually want to get to know me better?" 

"Yes. To put it with your words, I'd like to experiment with you."

You look away purposefully. "I might be a tough formula to crack." 

He carefully puts you in the bathtub and kneels in front of you, his eyes meeting yours.

"Consider this challenge accepted, doll."

[sansaorgana]

— DAUGHTER OF THE MOON (II)

PART ONE || PART THREE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader (Celebrimbor's Daughter)

SUMMARY — Annatar manages to seduce Lord Celebrimbor's daughter but her visions might interfere with his plans. Unless he can make her believe that the evil her mother was warning her about is nobody else but Lord Celebrimbor himself.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Reader's appearance is not described and her mother comes from a group of Elves that I came up with myself for the sake of this fic and its plot – the Moon Elves. I made Mirdania a bit of a mean girl here and idk I kinda feel bad about it but I also kinda don't lmao 🤣

WARNINGS — Reader's mother is dead ("madness" + suicide), manipulation, gaslighting, Reader has a vision / "is going mad" (she's basically Mirdania in this scene)

WORD COUNT — 5,190

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DAUGHTER OF THE MOON (II)

Lady (Y/N) interpreted his forehead kiss as both, so it seemed – both the blessing and the sign of his personal adoration. Whenever Annatar looked at her now, she was looking down, shyly. He could hear her heartbeat quicken its pace and he had to fight very hard not to smirk.

In fact, he was seeing her more often now. She was finding excuses to visit her father in the forge nearly every day and Celebrimbor was too busy to notice that his daughter was acting unusual and strange.

One time, Annatar overheard two women gossiping about his new friend’s daughter.

“Lady (Y/N) seems to be quite fascinated with Lord Annatar,” one of them chuckled quietly, not knowing that he was standing nearby. “Did you see her yesterday? Bumping into him as if it was an accident… She is not an actress good enough to pull that off.”

“Oh, I did see. I do wonder what her excuse will be today,” the other one giggled and covered her mouth. “He is so kind and patient for not rejecting her already because she is starting to get annoying.”

“Well, she is Lord Celebrimbor’s daughter. I suppose he cannot just–”

“Please,” her friend interrupted her. “He is the emissary of the Valars. He is above Lord Celebrimbor,” she insisted and Annatar could hear jealousy in her voice. He knew her because he worked with her in the forge. Her name was Mirdania and she had a crush on him – as silly as it sounded but it was true.

He was trying to charm everyone but it was not his intention to bring the romantic feelings out of his every victim. However, sometimes, not everything was going perfectly well and according to the plan.

“I cannot blame her,” Mirdania’s friend added, sadly. “Lady (Y/N) has been in so much pain after her mother’s passing and her father has always been the most overprotective but also neglecting her because of his work. Lord Annatar is the very first man her father trusts around his daughter and who pays her so much attention.”

“It is not very kind to gossip about your Lord’s daughter like that,” Annatar decided to step in with his hands clasped behind his back. His smile was gentle but his eyes showed a bit of harshness as both of the women looked at him in terror.

“L-lord Annatar…” Mirdania bowed down. “Forgive me, my Lord, I… We…”

“We have so much to do and I am certain that gossipping is not something we should bother ourselves with whenever we get a free moment for ourselves,” he insisted, calmly.

They both walked away as fast as possible, ashamed and with their heads kept low.

Jealousy was an ugly thing, Annatar thought. Lady (Y/N) was the most special woman inside this city – half Moon Elf after her mother, with powerful blood inside her veins and her hands blessed with so many talents. She was also a daughter of the Lord of this city and she had the biggest amount of power out of all women there. Of course they were jealous of her but they did not fear her, therefore instead of admiring her, they were whispering such nasty things.

Annatar felt bad for (Y/N) in a way. She deserved so much better and he would give it to her. He was sure that she would never deny such a gift.

“Lord Annatar!” Her voice made him turn around with a wide and kind smile. Here she was, walking towards him with her skirts gathered in her hands and yet another excuse to spend time with him on that day just like the gossipping women had suspected.

“My Lady,” he nodded at her. “What has caused you to come here and bless me once more with the sight of you?”

Oh, how she loved those compliments and sweet assurances. She froze for a moment and looked away, flustered. Her breath was becoming faster and her hands started to tremble a little.

“I was on my way to see my father,” she lied, “but seeing you on my way is a blessing as well, my Lord,” she gave him a shy smile and walked past him, very slowly.

Annatar closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling her scent. Then, he grabbed her wrist and made her stop as he opened his eyes once again and met her confused gaze.

“Please, my sweet (Y/N), you do not have to address me so formally,” he insisted. “I am Annatar to you. No Lord.”

She gasped a little and then she nodded her head as her lips curled up into a wide grin.

“Annatar,” she repeated his name. Devotion and sweetness were so audible in it that he wondered how could she not be ashamed of them but perhaps she was not even realising it.

Perhaps she needed one more push.

He visited her once again in her chambers in the evening. Actually, he had been doing that very often these days as they talked and she kept revealing to him nearly every moment of her life. So innocently handing herself out to him on a silver plate.

She opened the doors without a word and nothing but a smile. She was no longer surprised by his visits and she had been awaiting him, it was obvious. Her workshop was no longer messy and the gowns she was wearing in the evenings were the most exquisite. Even the jewellery she was wearing – her own creations – were breathtaking whenever it was time for his nightly visit.

Their shared moments were of a nocturnal nature and they both preferred it this way although the reasons differed for them both. She was simply a half Moon Elf and he was the Dark Lord. Nevertheless, under the moonlight they both thrived and so did their bond.

(Y/N) stood on the balcony as Annatar followed her there, watching the moonlight dancing in the light that reflected upon her hair. 

“You are breathtaking,” he gasped and perhaps his reactions were exaggerated but he truly meant his words.

Of course, Celebrimbor’s daughter was a prize. And a woman of such power and such potential was an ally he wanted by his side no matter what. But still, with time, he grew quite affectionate towards her in the most genuine manner. Her innocence seemed to draw him in.

“Annatar, please,” she shook her head and looked away with a nervous smile. “Do not…”

“Why not?” He stood even closer as he put his hand on her arm. She flinched slightly, trying to get away from him but he stood behind her and even though he was gentle, now his body was completely over hers and keeping her still, making it unable for her to walk away without his permission.

“When you finish your work with my father… You will leave us, right?” She asked and swallowed thickly, fighting the tears in her eyes. “And what will be left of me then? I cannot handle another loss,” she confessed.

Annatar stood there still as a short silence occurred. He let her sob in his arms as he caressed her shoulders before leaning in to whisper into her ear.

“I would not be the first emissary of the Valars who chose to stay in Middle-earth because of a woman,” he confessed.

“Because of a woman?” She asked as she looked up to meet his gaze. She stopped sobbing but her forehead was furrowed and he realised that the word he had used was not the most proper.

“Because of love,” he fixed himself and raised his hand to wipe her cheek. Her tears felt like little stars upon his fingers in the moonlight.

“Oh, Annatar, I–” she gasped but he did not let her finish as he leaned in to join their lips together.

She turned around in his arms as he loosened the grip for her to be able to do so. Her own arms wrapped around him nearly desperately as her kiss grew more and more hungry. She would give herself to him right there, right now, on the balcony under the moonlight. And he would not mind that at all but he had to play the role of a pure and noble creature, therefore he took a step back, breaking the kiss.

“My Lady, we shall not,” he breathed out.

“Forgive me, I do not know what has possessed me,” Lady (Y/N) shook her head, embarrassed of herself. Still ashamed, she walked past him and went back inside.

He observed her. She felt so stupid for her behaviour that she nervously grabbed the small chisel on her desk and went back to some of the work she had abandoned throughout the day, trying to grind the piece of diamond laying on the table nearby.

Annatar leaned in on the wall as he watched her with a gentle smile. Her nervousness was making her look even more adorable but to witness her creation was as fascinating as watching her father.

As her skillful hands worked quickly, she suddenly hissed out of pain and dropped the chisel. Annatar furrowed his brows out of worry and found himself by her side in an instant.

“(Y/N), my darling,” he put his arm around her and raised her hurt hand up as he glanced upon the precious blood leaking out of the fresh wound. “You ought to be more careful, my sweet,” he swallowed thickly and even though he wanted to look into her eyes while saying those words, he couldn’t stop staring at the red liquid staining more and more of her hand.

“I just… I do not know what to think of all of this. Who am I for you to forsake the Valars for me?” Her eyes filled with tears and this finally made him look up to meet her gaze.

“Who are you?” Annatar asked gently and cupped her face. “The grandest of the Elven maidens, Lady (Y/N) of Eregion, creator of the most beautiful artistry that is admired in all the realms. Daughter of Lord Celebrimbor and Lady Dúlinnel, granddaughter of Lord Commander Nillendur. The very last Moon Elf of Middle-earth,” he spoke these things with all confidence and devotion as she kept blinking her tears away and staring at him.

“And what is all of this to a man like you?” She asked, still unsure.

“You are everything to me,” he whispered, joining their lips together once more.

Celebrimbor was in his study. It was late at night as he liked to work in silence and solitude. He was looking through the pages full of drawings and projects when he heard the doors creaking and then the footsteps.

“Who is it?” He asked as he stood up to approach the railing of the stairs leading up to his study from the forge.

“It is only I,” Lady (Y/N) smiled at him as she walked inside but then another person walked right after.

“And I,” Lord Annatar announced his arrival.

“Oh, I see,” Celebrimbor did not mind their presence out of all people. In fact, they were the closest to him. Therefore, he went back to his desk and his papers.

But when Annatar and (Y/N) stood above him, arm to arm, he raised an eyebrow at them, curiously.

“What is it again?” He sighed a little, expecting them both to try to talk him into doing something or to stop him from doing something. These past few weeks, they had become quite close and (Y/N) often accompanied Annatar when he was trying to convince her father to his ideas.

“My dear friend, we have come here with nothing but our love for you in our hearts… And a hope that you would choose to bless us,” Annatar spoke softly as (Y/N) only stood there. It was her idea that he should be the one to speak because his words were like honey.

“Bless you in what?” Celebrimbor asked, confused.

“I wish to make your sweet and precious daughter my wife,” Annatar announced softly as his lips curled up into a smile. (Y/N) held her breath, watching her father’s reaction closely.

And there was a lot to watch – Celebrimbor’s mouth opened, then closed. He looked around only to lay their eyes upon them once more. His face went a shade paler and he was visibly shocked.

“But… That would mean that…” He could not find the right words.

“That would mean that I would choose to stay in this form and live the rest of my days in Middle-earth alongside your daughter, yes,” Annatar nodded and (Y/N) looked up at him lovingly. “I am aware of the consequences of my choice, however the Valars would never go against love so pure and they have already blessed us themselves,” he lied so beautifully and (Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears at those words.

“Well, if the Gods themselves have blessed you, I cannot say no,” the Lord of Eregion chuckled nervously as he laid his eyes upon his daughter. “My darling, are you sure?” He asked, a little nervously.

“What do you mean, father?” She gasped, wrapping her hands around Annatar’s arm.

“I mean… It is rather quick…” He tried to make a reasonable excuse for his slight suspicions.

“You fell in love with my mother the moment you saw her, did you not?” (Y/N) reminded him in a gentle voice and Celebrimbor smiled at that sadly as he looked away.

He remembered the very first time he had seen his future wife – bathing in the moonlight on her balcony. She had not seen him but he spotted her, on the highest tower of one of the most beautiful mountain cities of her kin.

“Yes, I did,” he nodded and looked up at Annatar and (Y/N) again. “I bless you. It is an honour to give my daughter to a man like you, Lord of Gifts,” he smiled at his new friend and Annatar smiled back. “I shall throw you a feast to announce the betrothal,” he announced happily and his daughter’s eyes sparkled a little, too.

“My friend, please, do not,” Annatar winced as both Celebrimbor and (Y/N) froze slightly. “This is not a proper time to throw feasts for it is a privilege to be able to celebrate anything when so many people suffer now in Mordor,” Annatar reminded them. “I am of a humble nature, too, I do not require such festivities. Your daughter’s love is all I need and I am aware she prefers peace and solitude as well,” he looked down at (Y/N) and she cracked an affectionate smile at him.

“I understand,” Celebrimbor nodded. “And when do you wish to be wed? In a year as the custom says?”

“Perhaps sooner. When the Rings are forged and we can all truly celebrate,” Annatar proposed.

Surprisingly, despite his friend’s surprised expression, there was no audible protest.

“Dwarves and Elves working together. It was said to be impossible, but our cooperation has achieved this wonder,” Celebrimbor spoke from the top of the stairs to the gathered Dwarves on his left and the Elves on his right. And in front of him, with their own goblets of wine, stood Lord Annatar and Lady (Y/N), wearing each other’s silver rings now. “And today, we embark upon a new dream, to enshrine our friendship in stone,” he glanced upon his friend and daughter.

Lady (Y/N) reached out to squeeze Annatar’s forearm and he looked down at her with an affectionate smile.

“Narvi?” Celebrimbor addressed one of the Dwarves and walked down to join the rest.

“Behold!” Narvi announced as he stepped out and grabbed the rope on the ground to pull it and reveal Celebrmibor’s new work of art. “The Doors of Durin!” The Dwarf introduced the beautifully carved doors made of stone. “The new West-gate of our mountain. Unbreachable. Visible only by moonlight and guarded by a password known only to friends.”

“It is a craft my father has learnt from my mother’s kin,” Lady (Y/N) whispered to Annatar and he smiled softly at her. Her eyes sparkled as she mentioned that, remembering the love her parents had shared.

Truly believing that her own would be the same.

But as her father chatted and kept making lighthearted jokes, Annatar pretended to be not impressed as he moved away. (Y/N) tried to stop him but he shook her hand off.

“I need some air,” he told her and when she furrowed her brows and wanted to follow him, he turned around to stop her. “Please, I want to be alone. I shall come to you later,” he told her.

He knew that the conversation he would have with Celebrimbor now would not be of the nicest kind, therefore he did not want her to witness it.

“If that is your wish,” (Y/N) looked down and he could sense that she felt rejected, so he grabbed her wrist to hold it lovingly.

“I am not angry with you, my love. It is the burdens of far greater matters than the two of us that I have to carry,” he explained.

“I am aware,” she nodded, relaxing her muscles. She nodded at him with a shy smile. “I shall retire to my chambers and wait for your visit.”

And so she did but when he came back to her, his mood was somehow even worse and she only watched with terror as he kept talking to her about her father’s stubbornness when it came to the Rings for men.

“Was he not lying to the High King himself about the Rings for the Dwarves, defending them?” (Y/N) was as outraged as her betrothed. “And now he is showing such hypocrisy by denying you… The emissary of the Valars… Oh, Annatar, I am so ashamed of him!” She exclaimed. “It is as if he denied the Gods themselves!”

“Do not worry, my darling,” Annatar approached her to caress her arms soothingly. “I told him already I shall be the one to create those rings then and as I said, I shall do.”

“But… But can you?” She asked, shyly, as she looked up. “I mean, if you could do it yourself, you would have done that already without his help.”

“I do not know… But I have to try for all the people suffering now after Mordor’s rise,” he explained.

“If I can be of any help… Talk to my father to try to reason with him or perhaps there is something else I could do…” (Y/N) started as Annatar smirked a tiny bit, knowing very well she was too affected now to even notice.

It was too early to ask her for such a sacrifice, though. She would get suspicious because she was sensitive about the matter. She knew the dark history of the Moon Elves and she was afraid of becoming the darkness that so many of them had been naturally inclined to.

No, he had to wait some more time.

“Do not worry about it, please,” Annatar shook his head and kissed her forehead. “Have your faith in me and I shall be alright.”

Celebrimbor was sitting upstairs and staring at his papers but the only thing he could focus on were the sounds coming from the forge as his smiths were trying to create the Rings with Lord Annatar’s help. He could hear that they were not doing well and his new friend was growing frustrated but he also did not want to give up and help them.

After hearing Annatar scolding Mirdania gently, Celebrimbor stood up with a sigh and approached the railing as he leaned on it to watch more intensely. Annatar looked up at him as his eyes intensified but then they both looked away, avoiding each other’s uncomfortable gaze.

The usual noises of the forge were suddenly interrupted by a loud scream of terror coming from the outside. Everyone froze, staring at each other’s faces. Lord Celebrimbor’s heart skipped a beat as he recognised the scream immediately. He rushed down the stairs and spotted nothing but fear and worry on Annatar’s face as the scream was familiar to him as well.

“Lady (Y/N)...” Annatar whispered, dropping down his hammer and hurrying to the doors, giving a perfect show of nothing but pure concern.

Truth to be told, he was a little worried. He had no idea what could have caused her scream of terror but he knew one thing – that was not a part of his plan.

He was running towards the tower where she resided, with her father hurrying right after him. The people of Eregion were staring up and whispering between each other, curiously and worryingly. 

Annatar and Celebrimbor opened the doors leading to (Y/N)’s workshop and they saw her standing in the middle of it as shattered gemstones laid upon her feet all around the floor. She was squeezing a small hammer in her trembling hands as if she was trying to protect herself with it from something and her hair was ruffled while her cheeks were wet from tears. She was gasping for air and took a step back at their rapid arrival to her chambers.The way she presented herself at that moment was the most pitiful.

“My darling… Breathe…” Celebrimbor took a step further and tried to approach his daughter calmly with his hand extended, wanting her to give him back the hammer. (Y/N) was looking around, lost and stressed, squeezing the hammer even tighter. “My sweet child, please, I do not want you to hurt yourself,” Celebrimbor’s voice filled with pain.

After a while of hesitation, as the feeling of confusion was slowly disappearing and her breath was calming down, (Y/N) handed the hammer back to her father.

“What happened?” He asked, taking it away from her immediately.

“I was in a place like this, but shrouded in mist and darkness, and…” (Y/N) struggled to explain, shaking her head. Her wet eyes found Annatar’s worried ones. “I saw, I…” She looked back at her father. “At first, I thought it was the forge burning… But it wasn’t.”

“What was it?” Celebrimbor asked, calmly. 

His daughter hesitated with the answer as she shot a quick glance at her betrothed. She was afraid of him thinking badly of her – that she was descending into madness like her mother.

“I saw what mother had been seeing,” (Y/N) whispered as she looked down. “It was tall… and its skin was made of flames,” she continued but her gaze was being kept down, so he could not see the burning intensity of her lover’s gaze upon her. “It came toward me, breathing, reeking of death and I saw… I… I saw its eyes. Pitiless and eternal…” She began to sob again as she hid her face in her hands. “I think mother was right… It is here, it is already here…”

“My love, please,” Annatar moved finally as he approached (Y/N) softly to put his hands on her trembling arms. “You are with us now. There is nothing to fear,” he tried to comfort her in a delicate whisper as he looked up at Celebrimbor.

His friend was speechless and scared. Annatar understood why – he had lived through this before with his own wife and her ending had been nothing but tragic. Seeing the same thing happening again to his daughter had to be traumatic. And even though Annatar did not like the fact that Lady Dúlinnel and her daughter had visions warning them about him, he was sure he could still use their abilities in his game.

“Look around, my gentle darling,” Annatar whispered to his betrothed and lifted her chin up. “All is well, my love,” he smiled kindly at her and she sniffled her tears back before reaching her hands out to squeeze his desperately, seeking comfort. “All is well, I am here…” He assured her and gave her hands a gentle squeeze back.

“You must think so lowly of me now,” her lower lip trembled once more.

“No. No, my darling, no, how could I?” Annatar extended his hand out to caress her wet cheeks, glancing at her father from the corner of his eyes. Celebrimbor could do nothing but stare, being eaten alive by guilt that he could not offer the same comfort to his daughter but he was too scared and too shocked to even move slightly as he was still squeezing (Y/N)’s small hammer in his hands.

“You are the most understanding,” she sniffled her tears and closed her eyes as she leaned her cheek on Annatar’s hand. She looked so beautiful, he thought, with her cheeks wet from tears, while she was putting so much trust in him and him only.

As they stood there like that in silence, two guards stood in the doorway.

“My Lord, Celebrimbor,” one of the guards addressed him as he finally turned around to glance at them. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the guard bowed his head, “but Durin the Younger is arrived from Khazad-dûm.”

“No,” Celebrimbor shook his head, worryingly. “Tell him to wait, it is a family matter…”

“He says it is urgent. Something about the Rings,” the guard announced and now both Celebrimbor and Annatar seemed to be interested.

“I will see what he wants,” Annatar stepped out, moving his hands away from (Y/N).

“No,” Celebrimbor looked at him and put the hammer down on his daughter’s desk. “No, you stay here with (Y/N) for you are a far better comfort to her than I am these days. I will go,” he smiled widely at his friend but Annatar could sense that the Lord of Eregion was hiding something from him.

“Very well then,” Annatar nodded with a fake smile as well and he watched Celebrimbor disappear with the guards before turning around to look at his betrothed again. “My darling, sit,” he hurried back to her side and helped her to sit down on the armchair near the balcony as he opened the doors to let the fresh air inside. “Rest, gather your strength and your thoughts, I am not going anywhere,” he assured her and squeezed her hands lovingly as she looked up at him with the most devoted and affectionate eyes.

“Thank you,” she breathed out.

Annatar caressed her head and looked down at the mess on the floor. He quickly cleaned it up, making an impression of someone who would always pick up the broken glass pieces and calmly deal with the aftermaths of trouble. And once it was all done and the bigger gemstone pieces recovered from the dust were placed upon her desk, he took a deep breath in and walked outside to stand on the balcony to overhear the conversation between Celebrimbor and Durin from afar.

And just like he suspected, that awful Dwarf not only had arrived there to complain about the Ring seeming to be corrupted but he also dared to accuse him – Annatar himself, an emissary of the Valars – of having bad intentions.

And Annatar knew that Celebrimbor’s mind was already trying to shut him off more and more often. Now, Durin’s words planted yet a new seed of mistrust. Annatar was furious but he still had his plan B – sitting behind him and sniffling her tears away.

He composed himself and his angry facial expression turned into a soft one as he turned around to join (Y/N) in her chambers again. He crouched down next to her armchair and squeezed her arm.

“I am mad…” She whispered, feeling utterly defeated.

“No, you are not mad,” Annatar assured her, calmly. “You are very brave,” he caressed her arm now and reached all the way up to brush her cheeks with his fingertips. “Some who behold the Unseen world are never quite at home in this one again.”

“Like my mother?” (Y/N) turned her head around to look into his eyes with curiosity and desperation. She wanted answers to calm down and he would gladly give them to her.

“Yes, like your mother. She was not mad either. Simply… more delicate than you,” Annatar smiled at her, lovingly. “It is a gift to be able to see the Unseen world but it comes with a terrible price. A terrible burden,” he explained.

“Have you seen it, too?” (Y/N)’s eyes filled with pain and compassion for him even though she was the one who had just suffered.

“Yes,” Annatar nodded, softly. “In its light, things appear as they truly are. Beings of different shades of light…” His eyes wandered somewhere else, leaving her face and staring at the wall in front of him. “And its darkness…” He hesitated, making sure that she catches on to that and her curiosity would make her ask for more.

“There is something you hide from me, my love. Please, I wish to understand what has just happened to me… What happened to my mother,” (Y/N) reached her hands out to grasp his wrists and to lower them away from her face as she intertwined her fingers with his, looking down at them as she smiled sadly at the sight of their silver rings.

“It pains me to say…” Annatar faked as much suffering as he could in his eyes as he laid them upon her scared face. “For what you saw, I did not wish you to see, until I had helped him to heal.”

Long silence occurred and he could not only hear but also feel her heartbeat quickening its pace.

“You… You speak of my father?” (Y/N) asked, confused. “But we spoke about it, I suggested it in the very beginning and you–”

“I never denied it,” Annatar reminded her, his voice growing a tone harsher but not too much. He just wanted to emphasise his seriousness. “I simply changed the subject, I hoped to distract you because I did not want to worry you.”

“I… I do not understand…” She shook her head as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

“The toll that creation has exacted from him in crafting The Three and The Seven has left him diminished. Vulnerable to the shadow,” Annatar squeezed her hands to comfort her. 

“But he created them because of you…” The glimpse of doubt and clarity in her eyes made him freeze for a moment as his jaw clenched.

“Your father is the greatest of the Elven smiths. The task given to him might be a burden but it is an honour. He was chosen by the Valars,” Annatar answered quickly. “Promise me, you’ll speak to no one about it, my love,” his voice turned much sweeter once again as he leaned in to be closer to her. “Including him.”

(Y/N) hesitated but having Annatar’s face so close to hers, to the point of their breaths mixing, his warmth comforting her and his hair brushing her cheeks while his gaze was the most intense. How could she ever say no to this man?

“I promise,” she breathed out and he cupped her face to pull her even closer and join their lips together in a loving, bittersweet kiss.

MASTERLIST

[lowtaperfeyd]

hello :))) i would love a duncan idaho x reader imagine where reader is paul’s sister and duncan confesses his love for the reader before he leaves for arrakis on caladan!!! super fluff !

Shoulder to Shoulder

Duncan Idaho x AtreidesHalfSister!reader

author's note: Heyyyy!! I did take more of an angsty route, that's just how the creative juices were flowing. But, this has sizeable amounts of fluff inside.

(Not beta read: we die like feyd-rautha)

warnings: mentions of death and some angst

wc: 1,058

(Y/N) Atreides was the older half-sister to Paul. A daughter from Duke Leto’s previous political marriage. Whose mother died in childbirth. For the longest time before Paul and Lady Jessica, it was just Duke Leto Atreides and daughter, as well as heir, (Y/N). But once Paul was born, (Y/N) was pushed back and was just a thought in her father’s mind now. It’s easier to compare her to a ghost than a prominent member of the family. 

Duncan Idaho is not a man who was afraid of change. In fact he thrives for the unknown adventure that would persist when he went to Arrakis in a few weeks. But he is a man who hates leaving things undone. 

It was the day before Duncan would leave for Arrakis and (Y/N) was sitting in the study looking over some books and films about the desert wasteland, the new place where she would live. While doing this, she thought about Duncan Idaho. The swordmaster who has always been a prevalent thing in her and her brother's life. 

“Are you going to sit there and take it, Paul!” She cried out mockingly and giggled at him as he was sparring with Duncan Idaho. 

“I would be more likely to win if you didn't distract me!” Paul said, equally sarcastic. 

“No, no my lady,” Duncan responded with a laugh, “Your brother is really trying to defeat me.”

All of a sudden, (Y/N) heard a knock on the study door, shaking her out of the fond memory of her brother sparring against the swordmaster.  

“Who is it?” She said cautiously 

“It’s me.” The deep voice of Duncan echoed through the door, “May I come in, my lady?” 

“Yes, come in, Duncan.” She said as she moved her books, clearing off more of a space for Duncan to sit in the chair opposite her. 

“I know Paul said that you were trying to learn as much as possible about Arrakis,” The swordmaster said as he looked around at all her books and papers, “But I did not expect to see you buried in them. Especially at this hour. It’s almost midnight, you need to go to bed.” 

“I’m not a child anymore, Duncan,” (Y/N) said while rubbing her forehead, “I can handle staying up late.” 

“Really,” Duncan said sarcastically, “‘cause if I recall just last week I found you asleep at the breakfast table because of the same events which are going on now. Unless that was not you, my lady?” He continued with the lighthearted teasing as he went to sit in the plush armchair at the other side of the table.

“That was an accident,” (Y/N) defended, “I didn’t mean to.” 

She let out a long, tired sigh. Her shoulders sagged when she buried her face into her arms on the table. And small tears welled up in her eyes. 

Duncan immediately picked up on her sadness. He didn’t like seeing the woman he loved in distress. But, he could never tell her that. 

“Hey,” He said gently while putting on a calloused yet soft hand on her forearm, “What’s going on?” The concern in his eyes was palpable when he laid them on (Y/N). 

“It’s nothing,” she said while lifting her head from her arms, “just something my brother mentioned.” 

With his other hand, he used his thumb to gently brush away the tear that was cascading off her face. 

“It’s obviously not nothing if you’re crying about it. What did he say?” He probed carefully.

(Y/N) got out of her chair and walked over to the window. The window overlooked the cliff sides and ocean of Caladan. With the night sky shining from the stars. 

“He said that something bad would happen on Arrakis…” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Nothing bad is going to happen on Arrakis,” Duncan reassured her, “that's why they are sending me tomorrow. To scout out the place and hopefully find the Fremen.” He walked over to stand next to her by the window, shoulder to shoulder. 

“I know, Duncan,” She said, still unconvinced. “what if you died?” (Y/N) said while looking at him. 

Duncan turned his body so he could see her fully. He took his hands and gently took her face into them. His affection provided a type of safety and assurance that neither shield could do or money could buy. 

“Why would I choose to die when I know you’re on your way to see me again,” 

“Duncan-” She interrupted. 

“Nope, let me finish,” He told her, “you are the most wonderful person on this planet. And that would continue to be true on any planet you went to. I would not die on Arrakis before you got there.”   

“I know but what if-” She tried to say before Duncan kissed her passionately. 

The kiss was fiery, smooth, everything and more than (Y/N) had imagined. It encapsulated the emotions that they both felt for each other. The bond built by love they hadn't been able to share with each other before now. If any member of court saw this kiss they would be blushing several shades of red.

Duncan pulled away from the kiss to see a frazzled and dazed (Y/N) Atreides. Whose lips were slightly swollen from kissing. With his hands still on her face. 

“I love you, my lady,” The swordmaster said, “and I would not let anything bad happen to you or myself on Arrakis. Do you understand now?” 

(Y/N) looked at him in the eyes and even though it felt like a dream, she understood what he was saying. A smile took her face as she said, 

“I love you too. ” 

“Good,” He said before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, “now go to bed. I don’t want to see you with your pretty head in a grapefruit later.” He whispered playfully. 

“Okay, goodnight.” She said to him, softly. As he began to walk to the exit of the study. 

“Goodnight my lady, I’ll see you soon” 

The only person who really saw her was the swordmaster, Duncan Idaho. He was the only one who could break away the exterior of her. He did it with such care and kindness that it was impossible to not feel deep emotion for him. 

[flawdchaos]

Pinky Promises

Robert Rosenthal x Reader

Word Count - 1840

- this is a part 2/continuation of Spilled Drinks that was requested by anon.

Ever since the night Y/N had literally ran into Rosie at the bar she couldn’t seem to rid herself of a small smile, no matter what she did. When the girls made it back to their barracks that night, the ambushing of questions went on for well over an hour and even into the next morning.

“You have to talk to him again, Y/N. We both saw the way he looked at you when you were dancing.” Violet declared as she pinned her hair back under the white cap the Red Cross was gracious enough to bless them with. “You know Violet is right, Y/N. He’s already dreaming of a house back in the states and curly headed babies running around.”

“Hazel!” Y/N stopped midway through her dress buttons to lightly smack her friend on the arm, cheeks burning bright red. “I just met the man and for all we know, he doesn’t care and will never speak to me again.” Reaching down to grab her work satchel packed full of supplies.

“Well Y/N if that was the case I don’t believe Mr. Rosenthal would be waiting outside for you, would he?” Violet taunted, Y/N’s head snapping up to meet her friend's gaze. Violet stood peering out the window, fingers holding the blinds open enough to see outside. Hurriedly, Y/N rushed over the window trying her best to not trip over her own feet.

Sure enough there stood Robert Rosenthal - hands shoved in his pockets gaze searching the area around him.

“Go get him, tiger!” Hazel bent forward, laughing.

There truly was not much left in this world that could phase Y/N. She had seen it all in the cruel reality that was war. Men she had grown close to over the span of their visits to the nurses stations would come back battered and broken, some beyond repair - and despite all of what she saw, she was always able to ground herself. She had to. But now, she felt like a young school girl again. Her body was littered with anxiety - sweaty palms, shaking hands, and a racing heart. Why?

All because Robert Rosenthal was standing outside of the nursing barracks.

The squeaking of the barrack front door brought her back down to reality for a moment before the brightness of the sun had her quickly shielding her eyes.

“Rosie, is that you?” she more than obviously knew the answer but she still could not convince herself that it really was him.

“Uh, yeah”, he let out an awkward chuckle “I wanted to stop by this morning and see how things were going. Maybe walk you to the nurses station since I’m heading in that direction.” he was rambling. She stood, head cocked up to him, eyes squinting still from the sun. “I mean, unless, that makes you uh - uncomfortable.”

“I’d love the company. The commute can get a bit lonely.” that same small smile making its way back onto her face. Rosie extended his hand for Y/N to lead the way and with one quick glance back inside she saw her friends staring out at her, smiles plastered on each of their faces.

“What is on your itinerary, today?” Robert finally spoke up.

“The usual. Work until roughly 1900, probably later since there is a mission today and hope to make it back to the barracks in time to do some reading before I get up and do it all again tomorrow.” Y/N paused, kicking a few pebbles along the path before she continued. “How is the day looking for you?”

“Nothing too crazy but I am going up today.” he said nonchalantly, stopping Y/N in her place.

“You’re flying today?” she almost felt like throwing up. Maybe it was selfishness or chosen ignorance but Y/N had grown to hope the war wouldn’t need Robert anymore. She hoped she could protect him from it but all she could do was treat the wounds he would inevitably bring back to her.

“Yeah, debriefing starts at 0730. I’m heading over there once we get you where you need to be.” Her anxiety ridden mind could not help but imagine this was Rosie’s goodbye to her.

Y/N stepped forward to Rosie, grabbing his hands in hers as she looked up to maintain eye contact.

“I know I am just a nurse and you can’t tell me what you're doing up there or where you’re going but you have to pinky promise me you’ll be safe.” Dropping his left hand, she stuck her pinky out expectantly.

“Cross my heart.” he said, as their pinkies connected tightly.

As they continued along their walk, conversation came easily. The pair were still strangers by most accounts and each of them hated it. Y/N wanted to know everything there was to know about Robert Rosenthal and she had made it her plan to figure it out. Stopping outside the nurses station, Rosie removed his hat and began anxiously squeezing it in his hands.

“Be safe up there, fly boy.” Y/N teased, attempting to keep the mood as lightened as she could.

“As long as you do the same down here.” Y/N nodded.

“This mission will be my 20th. I’ve got a two day pass calling my name once my feet hit the ground. Let me treat you to a real introduction and dinner.” Rosie spoke quickly, nerves taking over the brunette.

“I would love that, Mr. Rosenthal.” rising on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss against his cheek. “You know where I'll be when you get back.” With that, Y/N took a step back and hurried inside to her awaiting duties.

There wasn’t any other time that Y/N had remembered the clock dragging by so slowly. The seconds ticking by was beginning to drive her up the wall and she had to busy herself with random duties. It was while she was restocking the gauze that she heard the all too familiar rumble of the engines overhead. She couldn’t make it to the window to count the returning planes but she hoped, with all her being, every single one of them returned. Hazel’s blonde curls popped around the closet corner, an all too familiar sign that the once quiet med bay was about to pure, unadulterated chaos.

“We’ve got boys already headed our way.” Hazel spoke softly, as if she tried to lessen the blow.

“How bad?” Y/N asked but was only met with a small head shake from the blonde - it was never a good sign.

When Y/N finally saw Robert Rosenthal, he appeared in the med bay doors adorning some cuts and scrapes across his face.

“I told you I would make it back, pretty lady. My leave starts at 0700 sharp. Let’s go to London.”

It was pure luck that her days off coincided with Rosie’s rendezvous and that Helen and Violet were great at covering for their friend. The train ride was where Y/N finally got to the bottom of who Robert Rosenthal truly was. Shortly after taking their seats, Y/N couldn’t help but start to prod.

“Alright, tell me everything Mr. Rosenthal. Give me all the dirty details.”, her cheeks flushed bright red ,”uh- not like that i mean tell me - uh - tell me something no one else knows about you or something.” She could have thrown herself off of the moving train at that point but Rosie just flashed her a smile and started speaking.

“Robert Rosenthal, from Brooklyn, New York. I was working in law before all this mess. I loved it. Graduated top of my class actually. But after Pearl Harbor, I couldn’t keep sitting on my ass while my country needed me so - I enlisted.”

“No secret wife or kids back at home?” Y/N poked.

“No ma’am. It’s just me. And - uh - as far as something no one on this side of the world knows about me - I was the captain for my college’s baseball team. I was trying to be the next DiMaggio.” a small chuckle escaping him as he finished his sentence. “Now what about you?” he asked, softly bumping his shoulder up against the girls.

“Nothing too crazy for me. I always loved helping folks, I was told my whole life I was meant to be a nurse. Once we started fighting this fight I knew I had to volunteer - sorta like you I guess. I’m not dropping bombs or toting a gun but knowing I patch you all up before you get back in the saddle is enough for me.” she sighed, turning up to glance at Rosie.

“And no secret husband out at war or kids back at home?” Rosie mimicked her early question. Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “God no, Robert. Where I’m from I don’t turn heads.” He took a moment to look at her, maintaining eye contact before he took his large hand and grasped over hers before pulling them on to his lap.

“Well Y/N Y/L/N you turned mine - and maybe after we get all this nonsense settled with the bad guys, I can give you a tour of Brooklyn. I know just the place that I’d love to take you dancing.”

“I’m most certainly holding you to it but for now, let’s explore London.” raising her free hand to the platform approaching quickly.

“Yes ma’am. How would you feel about a picnic?”

“That sounds absolutely lovely.”

Rosie stood up as soon as the train hissed to a stop, busying himself with gathering the overnight bags each of them had packed. He stubbornly insisted on carrying both to the hotel around the corner. Y/N knew they would have to enter as colleagues and nothing more, separating as they went to their respective rooms to drop off their bags before meeting again in the hallway.

“Let’s go find sandwiches.” he spoke quietly and Y/N nodded, falling in line behind him as they walked past the lobby and out to the streets. For the first time Y/N really took in the size of the city around her and she couldn’t even help that her jaw was almost to the floor. The Germans had done their share of damage but it didn’t lessen the experience for her at all.

“What is it, Y/N?” Rosie questioned, taking a step towards her.

“I’ve never seen a city like this before. This is just - wow.” Rosie broke out into an ear-to-ear grin. “It is awesome but wait until I take you to Brooklyn. We’ll catch the train to New York City and I’ll make sure you take the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty.”

“You promise?” Y/N broke from her trance to look up as Rosie smiled and turned to her fully, sticking out her left hand.

“I pinky promise.” he said, watching as Y/N connected their hands tightly. “You better believe it. I haven’t broken a promise yet.”

AUTHORS NOTE - hi friends, i hope everyone enjoyed this little part two to spilled drinks. there may be a part 3 to this little series if it’s wanted. please feel free to give me feedback or more requests as my inbox as open. i’m still new to this so i appreciate anything :)

[norris-lando]

false god

Lando Norris x reader

summary: in which after every fight comes the makeup sex

inspired by the song False God by Taylor Swift

warnings: smut, mentions of fighting

author's note: this is pretty much just smut without a real a plot. I hope you enjoy reading, and please let me know your thoughts :)

word count: 1.5k

we were crazy to think, crazy to think this could work, remember how I said I'd die for you?

You and Lando were never afraid to say what was on your mind and it often lead to quite loud fights. Screaming at each other, slamming doors, dishes flying around and breaking. It wasn't something you were proud of.

However, no matter how much you fought, you loved each other unconditionally. It was hell when you fought but heaven when you we'rent fighting. And though all the fighting was taking a toll on your relationship, there was always a positive side to it.

The makeup sex was out of this world. With angry words turning to screams of pleasure.

Maybe you were crazy. Thinking it would be okay to fight every other day but you didn't care. Sometimes all you cared about was the sex.

You couldn't really pinpoint what it was exactly. Maybe it was the way Lando pinned you against the wall. His breath hot against your skin as he whispered in your ear.

I can't talk to you when you're like this, staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town, I'm New York City, I still do it for you, babe

"You know, I really hate when you're like this. I can't stand it," he'd say, referring to your behavior during your fights.

His hands would be all over you, teasing, making you beg for it. He'd always start running circles on your stomach. And then he'd painfully slowly move a few inches closer to your waist, often playing with the fabric of whatever pants you were wearing.

You'd try your best but always failed not to give in to the feelings. At one point or another, you'd always let out a whimper that was filled with need. The need to feel his hands on your clit, the need to feel his dick pulsating inside your dripping pussy.

And always, without a fail, whenever you'd make any sound or movement that would reveal your neediness, Lando would smirk. He'd feel proud seeing how he made you feel. And he would have to give it his all not to give into the feeling too soon. Last thing he wanted was to give you the satisfaction of him buckling under pressure.

"Please, Lando," you'd whimper in the hopes of him giving up.

but we might just get away with it, religions in your lips even if it's a false god, we'd still worship

You'd buckle your hips, you'd tangle your hands in his hair to pull him closer to you. You'd kiss him hard and passionately, not allowing the either of you a moments rest until you were almost out of breath completely.

A groan would escape Lando's throat as he'd pull away from you. Sometimes, you'd let your hands make their way away from his hair and down towards Lando's growing erection.

Quickly, however, Lando would put an end to whatever it would be that you would try. Shaking his head, he'd say, "What do you think you're doing?"

He'd proof to you he was the leader. That he was the one who called the shots.

"We can stop this thing right here and right now," the taunt echoing in your ears. "Unless you can play nice."

There it was again. The smirk. It held so much power over you it was ridiculous.

You hated it but you had no other choice but play by Lando's rules. So, for now you kept your hands to yourself and let Lando do whatever he wanted with your body.

He'd start pulling your pants lower to make way so his hand could slip into your panties. Lando's fingers burning with each touch.

His hand would rest on your clit for what felt like an eternity. He'd keep his eyes locked on yours. Lando loved seeing the pain in your eyes when he didn't immediately give you what you wanted. Sometimes he'd even stop there and leave you hanging with a need only he could fill.

But more often than not, his fingers started to slowly move around. First, just playing with your sensitive clitoris. Pressing down ever so slightly, he'd make circles as the tip of his finger would tease the entrance of your pussy, feeling just how wet you were.

Moans would escape and your back would arch against whatever surface you were on. Your head thrown back, you could feel Lando's lips attack your neck. He loved leaving wet kisses everywhere. He loved having you a whimpering mess under his touch.

He'd continue teasing your pussy with his fingers while his other hand would sometimes rest on your neck. And with each movement you'd make, Lando's grip would tighten. Denying you air, making you feel lightheaded and causing the feeling to be that more intoxicating.

"Tell me what you want," he'd say. His voice raspy and dark.

Yours, however, would be barely above a whisper as you tried to get the words out.

"I want- I want you to fuck me."

Lando hummed proudly. "Good girl," he would praise you before he rammed two fingers inside you.

we might just get away with it, the altar is my hips, even if it's a false god, we'd still worship this love

You could feel how his digits curled up inside you, moving back and forth and bringing you closer and closer to your climax with each movement. At the same time, Lando could feel you get wetter every second. He'd enjoy hearing you whimper and moan under his touch.

"You like that, huh," he'd say as he continued on.

Sometimes he'd make you cum on his fingers, other times he'd stop just before you could ride out your high. But your personal favorite had to be when he used his tongue along side his fingers.

Lando would slow down the movements his hands were making, never stopping completely as he would lower himself so that he was facing your crotch. He'd pull - or rip - your panties off, saying something about how they were always in the way.

You could feel his hot breathe on your pussy as he would take his time first admiring the look in front of him. You'd whimper and beg and moan. You would always try to do something to get his lips to close the gap sooner.

And when he would finally crash his mouth on your clit, you'd let out a loud scream of pleasure. You could feel Lando's voice vibrate against your skin, intensifying the satisfaction.

He'd usually continue working on you with his fingers and mouth long enough for you to cum. After which he'd lick his fingers clean, tasting every last bit of your juices.

You would left a panting mess, every breath getting caught up in your throat.

But it wouldn't matter to Lando. He'd pick you up and lay you down you on the bed or the couch - or even on the kitchen table. Any surface would do during moments like this.

Lando would usually give you a moment to rest but just enough so that you could catch your breath. After that, he'd get right back to work. He'd rip off your clothes, giving you kisses whilst doing so. He would let you pull his shirt off of his back but he'd usually rush to take his pants off himself.

Sometimes, you'd take his dick in your mouth. Gagging as the tip of it would hit the back of your throat, saliva dripping from the corners of your lips. Lando would praise you, tell you you were a good girl and how well you were taking his dick.

He'd let himself fall off your mouth before he could cum. He wanted to be inside you when he did that. To feel your wet walls pulsating around him.

Lando would position himself at your entrance. He'd tease your folds with the head of his dick and usually you'd yet again beg for him to just push it in, to fuck you until it was too painful to walk.

Lando would always be happy to comply. He'd usually start off slow. Barely moving his hips back and forth before he'd grow tired of waiting. He loved hearing you scream his name so he'd usually fasten his pace soon.

It wouldn't take long before the two of you were moaning and panting. Sweat dripping as Lando would hold himself on top of you with his arms pushing into the surface underneath him.

And almost always, you'd reach your high at the same time. You could feel Lando's load shooting inside you, just as he could feel your walls clenching around him. The two of you collapsing next to each other afterwards.

Sometimes in those moments, right after the sex, you couldn't help but wonder what had led you to have such a heated argument yet again. It was like you had wandered off an invisible path. But you were more than thankful that each time you seemed to find a way back. Maybe it was blind faith all along guiding you.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Right After All: Part Seven

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: minor angst

Summary: You've studied so hard to be a nurse but you're finding yourself wanting to go on more hunts with Sam and Dean. After you've convinced them to let you go on a vampire hunt, you don't realize how exhilirating it is.

Right After All Masterlist

Square Filled: gas station for @spnclassicbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You and Clarissa haven’t talked since Disneyland, and you’ve been avoiding her. You told her that you love her boyfriend. What sister would be okay with that? Clarissa is a very emotional person and you hate doing anything to upset her. You never wanted to come between them. Still, you have to face her eventually so you go to the Bunker knowing she’s been staying here since you got back from Disneyland.

You knock on the door and wait for someone to answer it, and you’re kind of disappointed when Sam does.

“Hey, come in.”

“Thanks. Is Clarissa here?” He doesn’t have to answer because you see her in the war room about to head up the metal stairs. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling and texting you. We should talk.”

“I gotta run but I’ll see you at home.” Your heart drops knowing she is avoiding you but she pulls you in for a hug. “It’s going to be a girls weekend, okay? I’m taking you out.”

“Okay.”

She pulls away from you and leaves the Bunker with a smile on her face. She doesn’t seem all that upset. Then again, she’s a good actress. Once she pretended to be nice to you for a family gathering but then when you were alone, she gave you the meanest cold shoulder. You forget why you two were fighting.

“What was she doing here?” you ask Sam.

“I don’t know. She’s been in Dean’s room the whole time.”

Speaking of, Dean walks into the war room and tenses when he sees you. Oh no. What the hell did Clarissa tell him? Shit. Of course, she’d tell him that you’re in love with him. God, you shouldn’t have said anything.

“If you’re looking for Clarissa, you just missed her.”

“I know. I saw her.”

You and Dean try to avoid each other’s eyes and Sam looks at both of you.

“Okay, I found a case.”

“A hunt?” you ask with interest. “Can I come?”

“You want to go hunting with us?”

“Yeah. The last time was fun. What are you hunting?”

“A nest of vampires.”

“Sounds easy enough,” you shrug.

“Easy? Have you ever used a machete before?” Dean asks.

“Yes, have you?” you tease.

Dean finally cracks a smile and shakes his head without answering your question.

“What about your job?”

“Look, I love being a nurse and helping people but after Disneyland, I realize the best way to help people is to hunt. Isn’t that what it’s all about? To help as many people as I can? I can still be a nurse but it won’t be in a hospital.”

“What about the internship? You worked so hard for it,” Sam says.

“Yeah, I did, but that was before. All I know is how I feel now, and I want to learn how to be a hunter. Who better to help me than the best.” You smirk. “Unless you’d like me to go to someone else, you know, who isn’t the best.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Dean playfully glares at you.

“Does that mean I can come?”

“Fine.”

“The more the merrier,” Sam chuckles.

“Yay!”

You don’t have a lot to pack so it doesn’t take you long to pack the car up with what you need. Sam and Dean take longer than you so you’re inside the car with your feet on the dash, talking to Clarissa on the phone.

“Looks like I’m going hunting with them. A nest of vampires, according to Sam. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for our weekend.”

“Good. You really like doing this kind of work, don’t you?”

“I do,” you smile. “Listen, are we okay? You know, after Dis--”

“We’ll talk when you get back, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You don’t feel any better about the situation. Sam and Dean join you in the car and put the bags into the trunk.

“Feet off the dash,” Dean says and slides behind the wheel.

“Yes, sir,” you say sarcastically, but you don’t miss the way his jaw ticks and how he shifts on the seat.

For the first few hours, you listen to your own music and play games on your phones, but by hour five, Dean turns down the music and glances over at you.

“So, tell me how you think you kill a vampire.”

“Okay.” You put away your phone and shift so you’re facing him. Sam is sitting sideways with his legs stretched across the back seat. Even in that position, he has to bend his legs since they can’t fit all the way.

“Stake through the heart? Put it in sunlight?” You think that’s funny but Dean doesn’t laugh. Sam chuckles but he coughs to cover it up when he sees his brother’s look. “I’m guessing that’s wrong?”

“No. Decapitation is the only way to kill one of them. That’s why we have machetes. Listen, they’re strong but you’re craftier. Whatever you do, don’t let their blood get in you--through eyes, open wounds, or the mouth. You’ll turn into one of them. If you do happen to get turned, don’t drink human blood. There’s a cure for vampirism but it won’t work once you fully transition into one.”

“Got it.”

It’s a lot but you’re not going to let it scare you. You chose this. You have to be okay with everything that comes with hunting. Dean stops for gas and Sam goes inside to get something to eat and to stretch his legs. You stand off to the side with your machete in hand and practice swinging it. You don’t think it will be hard to slice a head off the body but it can’t be easy. You three are the only ones at the gas station so you’re not worried about scaring someone with your machete.

Dean puts the gas nozzle back into the hook and looks at you. He chuckles to himself when he sees you swinging the machete around. He looks at Sam to see him still browsing the food so he walks over to you carefully.

“Careful there, slugger. You might take an eye out,” he jokes.

“Sorry. I’m just practicing.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Am I doing it wrong?”

“Your stance is off. If you stand like this,” he spreads his legs slightly and turns his body slightly toward you, “then you’ll swing more smoothly.” You try to copy his stance but you look as stiff as a board. “Here, let me show you.”

Dean presses his body to your back and you immediately freeze. He grabs your hips and turns you while keeping your legs where they are. He kicks your right foot lightly and you move it further by a couple of inches. His fingers trace up your body and to your arms. Goosebumps follow his fingers as they make their way down to your hand. He wraps his big hand around yours so you’re both holding the machete. He keeps one hand on your hips and turns you slightly before swinging the machete down. Your heart is racing a million miles a second. This shouldn’t be happening.

“See how much easier that feels?”

“Yeah, it does,” you whisper.

Dean’s hand flexes on your hips as if he’s holding back from exploring your body. You turn in his arms and look into his beautiful green eyes. What you wouldn’t give to kiss him right now. His eyes dip to your mouth but before anything can happen, Sam calls for you two.

“Hey, you guys good?”

“Are we good?” Dean asks you, his voice low.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Dean’s the one to break away from you and you feel sad that you can’t feel his body anymore. You only have two more hours to go. Two more hours locked in a car with Dean. The sheriff is waiting for you when you three arrive in town.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with us,” Sam says and shakes his hand.

“Of course. Thanks for coming. We’re having a bit of a crisis here. Our small town doesn’t do well with back-to-back murders. Well, supposed murders.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not a single body has been found. People go missing and everyone speculates that they’ve been murdered. It’s a small town. No one ever leaves and if they do, we know exactly why--money, new job, marriage--people don’t disappear from here.”

“Do you have any theories?”

“I don’t want to start drama but a new family moved into town on Old Miller Farm. Justin Miller, bless his soul, got sick and sold his farm to the first person he could get to buy it. They’re weird, won’t talk to anyone, and they only come out at night. They’ve got everyone freaked but they haven’t broken any laws.”

“We’ll take care of it, Sheriff. Thank you for speaking with us.”

Old Miller Farm is the next stop, and there is a small space for the Impala to park where you can see the farmhouse in clear view. If they are vampires, then they won’t show themselves until the sun has gone down, and they do. As soon as the sun disappears beneath the horizon, they file out of the house. Two of them sneak to the back of the property at a place where you can still see from the car. There is a huge woodchipper and tornado shelter doors that lead further underground. The vampires outside talk to each other for what seems like hours before heading back inside.

The two vampires by the woodchipper open the storm doors and head down into the shelter before returning with two bodies slung over their shoulders. Even from where you are, you know they’re dead. One of them starts the machine and the other tosses a body into the shipper. Seconds later, the entire body is shredded only to be fed through the chipper again. Whatever is left over is poured into buckets. You’re not sure where they plan on taking the contents but if they have pigs, no one will ever find their remains.

“God, this is horrible,” you sigh and look away from it.

“They must be doing this to hide the bodies. Feed them to the pigs and everyone is none the wiser,” Sam says.

“So, how are we going to do this?” you ask.

“Well, you’ll stay here and Sam and I will--”

“Excuse me,” you cut him off, “I did not travel a thousand miles with you to stay in the car. I’m here. I want to help. Look, I might not be ready to take a nest on by myself but I can distract. Use me.”

Sam and Dean look at each other in silent conversation.

“Fine,” Sam stutters. “You distract from the front and we’ll sneak in the back.”

“Alright, if you’re going to go in there, you need to know a few things,” Dean says. All three of you get out of the car and Dean opens the trunk where the weapons are. He takes out two syringes from the bag. “This is Dead Man’s Blood. It won’t kill them but it’s like poison. It’ll take it down to where you can kill it, okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and take the syringes.

You wait for the vampires to be done crushing the bodies before you three head to the house. You break off from the brothers and walk to the front door. Sweat forms on your hairline but you try to keep calm. Vampires have super hearing. They’ll hear your racing heart and smell your fear. They’ll know something is up before you can distract them. You take two deep breaths before knocking on the door. A woman answers it and she looks dirty like someone just picked her off the street.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

“Yeah, my car broke down and I was wondering if I could use your phone?” You point to the Impala which can be seen from the house. “I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Are you alone out there?”

“Yeah, can I use your phone? My cell died.”

“Sure. Come in.”

She opens the door wide enough to squeeze you in, and you have to stop the gag when you smell how bad she is. There are half a dozen people inside, all of whom are staring at you like you’re a piece of meat. You keep your eyes cast downward and follow the woman into the kitchen where the wall phone is. There is another woman inside eating something red. You don’t want to know what it is.

“Thank you.” You pick up the phone and dial your sister’s number. Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up. She doesn’t and you chuckle nervously at the two women who are staring at you. “Damn, she’s not answering. Let me call someone else.” You dial Dean’s number knowing his phone is on silent. He doesn't answer it so you hang up with a slight blush on your cheeks. “Sorry to waste your time. It looks like no one is answering.”

“Do you need shelter for the night? There’s an extra bed here,” the woman offers.

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you any longer. It’s okay. I’ll charge my phone in the car and call a tow truck.”

You turn to leave but she blocks your path.

“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” You open your mouth to answer but you hear a loud thump coming down the stairs. She hears her friends shout in anger and she turns to you with deadly eyes. “Hunters.”

She bares her fangs and lunges at you, pinning you to the wall. You grab one of the syringes and stab her in the neck, emptying it into her system. She cries out and stumbles back but you’re not free yet. The other woman runs at you and slams her body into yours. She knocks you over the kitchen table and onto the floor. You reach into your jacket pocket and unsheath your machete but the female vampire is too quick for you. She kicks the machete out of your grip and steps on your hand. You scream out in pain just as she leans down to attack, and the kitchen door slams open. Dean rushes in and slices his machete through the air and right through her neck.

“Are you okay?” he asks and helps you up with your good hand.

“Yeah, just a bit bruised. I don’t think it’s broken.”

The vampire you injected with Dead Man’s Blood writhes on the ground, moaning in pain, and Dean yanks her up by her hair.

“Wanna kill your first vampire?” he asks.

You flex your injured hand, deciding that it’s okay enough to grip the machete. You pick up your machete from the ground and twirl it in your hand.

“Yes.”

You do what Dean taught you to do and bring the machete down on her neck. Her head falls to the ground and rolls to the side, and you gasp at the shock of it.

“Look at that. You’re a natural,” Dean smiles.

The kitchen door slams open and you and Dean look at Sam.

“We gotta go. The cops were tipped off.”

Party’s over. You don’t bother cleaning up your mess knowing the police will either cover it up or make some excuse as to why the new family in town is no longer living there. You’re back home earlier than you thought you’d be, but you stay home to unwind from the case before hanging out with Clarissa. She made a spa appointment for you two on Friday, which is a good thing since your body aches from being thrown over a kitchen table.

“I saw them, Claire. They shoved those bodies into the woodchipper, but I killed my very first vampire. It was exciting. It was awesome. Dean was awesome. You should have been there.”

“Nah, that’s your thing. Spas are kind of my thing,” she chuckles.

You lean back on your chair and sigh happily.

“This is nice, too.”

You and Clarissa are alone in the room to unwind before they call you back and give you a massage, and Clarissa looks at you with a sigh.

“I gotta tell you something. We should talk about Disneyland.”

Yep, there is it. Hunting took your mind off this conversation but now you’re forced to confront your feelings.

“I know. Look, it wasn’t fair for me to--”

“No, let me talk first.”

“Okay.”

You sit up and remove the face mask off your face so you can see her better. She does the same and tosses the mask into the trashcan.

“When you saw me in the Bunker earlier this week, I was there to break up with Dean. We’re not dating anymore.”

Wow. You were not expecting her to say this. You blink rapidly as you try to think of a response.

“Oh, wow, I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said at Disneyland and it’s true. I don’t love Dean. I’m ashamed to say I only kept him around for selfish reasons. Don’t get me wrong, I really did like him in the beginning but he’s not the man for me. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He loves you.”

Okay, now you don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything.

“Are you okay?” you ask once you find your voice.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’ve been talking to this guy for a while. Dean knows about him. I’m not a cheater so I ended things with Dean so I can be with this guy. His name is Asher. He’s rich and loves spending his money, especially on me.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a man who has a lot of money. It doesn’t make Clarissa shallow. That’s just what she’s into.

“Well, I’m happy for you. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Yeah, but I think you should be with Dean. You two are clearly meant for each other, and I didn’t want to hold you back from who makes you really happy. What kind of sister would I be if I kept him from you?”

“Thank you, Clarissa,” you smile with tears in your eyes.

“Don’t mention it. Oh, and I know you switched the presents on our birthday. I know he got me that gun.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, at a loss for words.

Dean was single for the entire hunt. He was single when he held you in his arms. He was single when he held your hips. He’s yours for the taking. How the hell are you going to bring this up to him?

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[pinkthrone445]

~You can't change who you are~ Part 2

Part 1

Pairing:Brienne of tarth x Reader

Gender: mostly fluff

Warnlings : (+18) strong words, mention of sex, mention of violation (barely present, I won't write about that, I can't), mean and hurtful comments.

Summary:After years Brienne meets someone she didn't expect to see again, will she be willing to forgive her and leave the past behind or will she have to confront her actions first?

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY GWEN! ❤️

Five Years Later

Brienne and her men, at least those left alive, were returning from an intense battle,they won, but at great cost. Almost all of them were returning on foot, only the wounded who could not walk were on horseback, although they were two days' walk from the castle territory, they all needed a place to rest, drink water, tend their wounds and regain strength. Brienne decided that it would be wise to stay in one of the houses that were outside the territory of the castle, they belonged to the place but were not within the wall, almost all of them having crops and large houses.

The lord commander stood outside a big crop, staring at the back of a woman who was cultivating and picking a couple of vegetables. The woman wiped her forehead with her arm and stood up, stretching her back

-"Good morning miss, I'm so sorry to interrupt you while you're doing your work."-Brienne watched as the woman listened to her but didn't turn around-" We are knights of the castle, I'm Brienne of Tarth, the Lord Commander, we come from an arduous battle and we have many wounded men, we needed a place to rest and tend to our wounds for a few days until we can continue. Your collaboration will be well remembered and rewarded by the castle" - The tall woman spoke, expecting an answer, but got nothing, not even a glance from the other woman- "Miss?"-She insisted with no answer

-"MAMA!"- A little girl came out of the house laughing and running towards the crops with a playful dog behind her- "Mama help! Braco is tickling me with his kisses!" - Brienne watched as the woman took the girl in her arms, hugging her to her chest protectively, kissing her forehead. The girl kept laughing as the dog jumped excitedly around them. When the woman turned to look at her, Brienne's blood froze and her face turned a little paler than usual, it looked like she had seen a ghost, someone she thought she would never see again in her life

-"Nice words to disguise the truth Lord Commander, I know that this is not a request in which I have a choice, I also know that after you stay in my house, no one will pay me anything and no one will return to me everything you use or eat" - You spat in anger looking her in the eye - "So please, stay! You're not welcome, but I can't say no to the Lord Commander and her army, or tomorrow my head will be hanging on some pole and you'd occupy my house anyway" - You rolled your eyes and hugged your daughter more, walking towards the house, but you stopped next to the tall woman, put your daughter down, and smiled at the little girl very affectionately- "Please go inside my little one, feed Brako and wait for me there" - You said and your daughter nodded running inside with her dog, you looked up and looked at Brienne, who swallowed hard when she saw the anger in your eyes- "You and your men can stay in the barn, no one sets foot in my house without me letting them, if someone, anyone, touches a hair or even a thread of my daughter's clothes, or mine, I will kill them, slowly and painfully and you will not stop me. They can't even touch my animals, I know how men are like after the war, any hole is good for them, I learned it in my past work, so no one can touch any living thing that belongs to me. You won't talk to me unless it's strictly necessary, neither you nor your men can mention my past to my girl or I'll cut out their tongues. Understood?"-You spoke to her with authority, and Brienne nodded.

-"If any of my men don't respect you or your things, I'll kill them myself" - The blonde spoke, hoping to squill a little of the anger with which you looked at her

-"If any of your men do anything to us, I'll kill you too" - You spit and went inside the house. Brienne stared at you, she couldn't believe that after so many years of looking for you, she accidentally found you when she came back from one of her campaigns. There were a thousand things she wanted to ask you, a thousand things she wanted to tell you, but she knew you didn't even want to breathe the same air as her. You looked different, your body and face had changed, you looked different and at the same time nothing about you had changed. Your eyes no longer looked at her with love, but with anger and pain. Your face looked more experienced, with a lot of stories to tell. Your body had become more formed and muscular, perhaps from working the land and taking care of your daughter and the animals. Those eyes that once adored her, now only shone for your daughter... Your daughter, how was it possible that you had a daughter?...

After Brienne regained her composure, she returned to her men to explain the rules you had imposed and what would happen if they didn't abide by them. That first night, you brought them food, water, and a couple of blankets, barely looking in the blonde's direction as she thanked you for your hospitality. Brienne barely slept that night, thinking about you and all the memories she had of you together, wondering if you ever remembered her, missed her. How had your life been all this time? Was your daughter's father still with you? How did you come to live there? Did you miss her? How she wished you had missed her, that you had thought of her as much as she thought of you.

A couple more weeks went by, in which you still didn't even look at her, just bringing the things they needed and leaving. The only thing Brienne noticed was that the things you left for her were always better and more delicate than for others, the bandages, clothes, and portions of food for her, were always the best and the biggest.

One day, after breakfast, she approached your daughter who was playing in a small stream that passed by the side of your house. Your daughter was playing with a wooden sword, hitting logs and branches that were in the area. The dog followed her every step she took, the animal had a cloak and a cardboard helmet strapped to his head, which said "brave knight" in a delicate handwriting that Brienne would recognize anywhere, it was your handwriting, the same handwriting that used to leave notes on her nightstand before going to work.

Your little girl's laughter made her smile, she laughed like you, she was just like you, only with blue eyes similar to hers, if you and she had been able to have a child, she would certainly look like that girl. What a blessing it would have been if you and she could have started a family, living in a quiet place like that, her mind began to wander making her smile. When Brienne came back to reality, she saw how your daughter had stopped playing, now she looked at her seriously, with a frown, god, she looked a lot like you when you were angry.

-"Hello little one, my name is Brienne of Tarth"-the blonde spoke but your daughter kept looking at her with a frown-"what's your name?" - Your daughter still didn't answer- "what's the name of your brave friend?" - She asked, pointing to the dog without getting an answer-"You know? I saw you playing with your sword, I'm a knight of the castle, do you want to see a real sword?" - Brienne wasn't wearing her armor, but she still had the sword in its scabbard clinging to her waist. She carefully pulled it out and knelt down at your daughter's level, smiling. Your little girl looked at her curiously, her frown was gone, her eyes were shining now but she didn't approach the woman - "Do you like it? it's called oathkeeper. Does your sword have a name?" - Your daughter shook her head shyly, looking at the wooden sword in her small hands

-"My... My mom said I shouldn't talk to you" -she said shyly, avoiding looking at the woman, Brienne smiled, her voice was so cute

-"She said why?"-Brienne asked

-"She told me that you are very busy people, especially you as Lord Commander, that I should not disturb you..."-She whispered, playing with the hem of her shirt

-"It doesn't bother me if you talk to me, I'll always have time for you, I promise. You know, your mom and I used to be friends, we can be friends... Do you want me to teach you how to use your sword?" - Your daughter nodded excitedly and walked over to her, the dog never leaving her side-" But first you have to name your sword... And since I've introduced myself, I'd also like to know your name and your friend's..." - She smiled, looking tenderly at your daughter

-"My name is Anne and my dog's name is Braco... And I'd like my sword to be called protector"-Your daughter said with a big smile

-"Those are beautiful names, all three of you"-Brienne smiled and stood up taking her sword- "now, I'll teach you how to defend yourself"-After teaching her and playing for a while, they sat down to drink some lemonade that your daughter brought from home, as they drank, the two of them had their feet in the gentle current of water. The dog also had almost his entire body submerged there, enjoying the freshness. Your daughter started giving Brienne some cookies that you had baked the day before, the eldest began to eat with pleasure, listening as your daughter told her stories that she remembered

-"Oh! And one time, Mom, Drako and I were walking in the woods and, and, and Drako ate a veeeery ugly worm, Mom started laughing while eating an apple and realized that the apple also had a worm and that she had bitten it!" - your daughter counted very excitedly and started laughing making Brienne laugh tenderly as she looked at her.

-"Baby! Anne, come inside, it's time for a bath."-You shouted from the front door looking at them, neither of them had noticed that you had been watching them for a while. Your daughter stood up looking at Brienne sadly as she didn't want to leave her

-"Tomorrow do you want to play with me and Drako again? Maybe you'll be the knight and we'll be the thieves, will you?"- The little one asked, making her best puppy eyes so that Brienne would say yes

-"If your mom agrees, I'm fine with that" - whispered the eldest smiling, but when she went to stood up , she felt a great pain in her side and watched as her blouse dyed red quickly, she quickly covered it with her hand so that your daughter would not be scared, but the little one, very attentive as always, had already seen it. The wound she had had reopened and your daughter noticed it

-"Lord Commander! You got hurt! Come home and let mom heal you, she always heals my boboos when I fall or hit myself, she also gives the best kisses and hugs"-Your daughter grabbed the woman's free hand and began to pull without being able to move her an inch

-"Anne, I told you to call me Brienne, plus I'm fine and I don't think your mom wants me in the house anyways..."-Your daughter continued to pull her hand and the dog started biting her clothes and pulling along with the girl as well

-"You said that you and Mom were friends and friends help each other, so come home" - Your daughter insisted and Brienne began to walk with her until she was in front of you. You didn't want to let her in, but after your daughter's pleas, explanations, and puppy eyes, you let her inside your house to heal her.

-"The tub is ready and so are your clean clothes, take a good bath and get dressed, I'll be taking care of Lord Commander's wounds, then come here and I'll brush your hair" -you instructed your daughter and she nodded looking at the two of you

-"She likes to be called Brienne, no Lord Commander mom, after the shower will you read me a story while I drink my glass of milk? - Your daughter asked and you nodded sighing and then saw how she ran to the tub you had prepared for her.

Without looking her in the eye, you turned to where Brienne was

-"Take off your blouse and sit down"—you spoke seriously and went to the cabinets

-"Your daughter is beautiful and your house too" -said the blonde seeing how you were looking for thread and bandages, she grabbed a chair and sat down carefully taking off her blouse. You grabbed some alcohol and put it on the wound to wipe away the blood that was coming out, the blonde barely complained about the burning. Her body was much more scarred than the last time you were with her. In old times, you also used to clean her wounds and kiss all her scars, you did that every night you shared together... Your lips ache from the desire you had to kiss her scars, you didn't know if it was out of habit or because of how much you had missed her.

-"I told my daughter that she shouldn't talk to you or your men" - you said angrily as you threaded the needle and thread. It made you angry that she was there, it made you angry that you couldn't be upset for the real reason, it made you angry that you still loved her and you couldn't hate her

-"No, you told her she shouldn't bother us, she wasn't bothering me, we were playing and she was telling me really good stories" - Brienne watched as you handed her a piece of cloth and looked at you in confusion as she took it

-"Bite it"-you answered

-"For the pain? I can handle it" - she said

-"It's to see if that shuts you up" -You said and she rolled her eyes

-"Why did you tell your daughter not to bother me? She is the sweetest child I know. She could never bother me"- she whispered and complained when you stuck the needle into her skin to close the wound

-"Would you have preferred me to tell her the truth? The things you and your men said to me and did to me? How was I treated? If you prefer that, right now I'll tell her" -You said angrily as you continued to sew the wound

-"I never did anything to you but love you, you were the one who left from one day to the next without saying anything" - she whispered without looking at you

-"Exactly, you never did anything, remember that night? I did defend you, but you stayed there, letting them tell me all the horrible things they could think of and you just stayed there, doing nothing... They were your men, a word from you, a firm look on your part and they would have stopped, but no, you just stood there letting them say what they wanted... That same night, the king went to the brothel and kicked me out of the city, he said a whore couldn't be dating his top soldier, that it gave you a bad reputation, he forbade me to come back... I thought I should talk to you to see if you could do anything, but if you didn't confront your men, you wouldn't do it with the king either. His men escorted me out of the city and one of them slept with me, he forced me to sleep with him... Not only was I left without a place to live, but I was also left alone and pregnant... Every time I see you and your men, I remember that night over and over again, that's why I didn't want my daughter to be near you..." - You looked at her with tears in your eyes and stood up when you finished closing her wound

-"I... I didn't know that... I'm sorry sorry (Y/N)-Brienne stood up and held your hand so you wouldn't leave-I'm really sorry, really, so much, you didn't deserve any of that. I should have done something... Say something...-You took your hand out of her grip and threw a bandage at her chest, which she grabbed and then you walked away from her

-"Well... Now is too late, 5 years too late..." -You whispered - "Cover yourself with the bandage, or a straw from the barn will get into your wound and my work will be in vain"-You said hurrying her out of the house

-"MAMA!" - The voice of your daughter who was standing at the door of the dining room interrupted you - "you can't let her sleep in the barn, she's hurt! She has to sleep here!" - Your daughter challenged you looking at you seriously and you sighed rubbing your face

-"Fine, she'll sleep on the couch"-You said defeated, you were to tired for discussing stuff with your daughter. You sighed and grabbed the brush – "come on, I'll comb your hair"-Your daughter sat in a chair smiling and waving her feet in the air. Brienne bandaged her wound and put on her blouse, sitting on the couch and watching you fondly. When you finished combing her hair, your daughter got up and sat next to the blonde smiling from ear to ear

-"It's time for a story, you're going to love them, mom makes them up and then writes them down and draws pictures of every story. You can also have a glass of milk while we listen to it... My favorite story is the one about the woman knight, mommy, can we read that? And give Brienne a glass of milk too, pleeeeeease?"-she begged with her tiny hands together and doing puppy eyes again. The dog barked loudly in claim looking at your daughter - "And one glass of milk for Drako too, please Mama, you know how much I love you!" - You laughed shaking your head in defeat

-"Fine, manipulative little girl..."-After preparing the warm glasses of milk for each one you brought your daughter's favorite book, when you were reading halfway through, the milk had long since run out, your daughter had curled up and slept on Brienne, even the dog had fallen asleep. You were about to close the book so you could take your daughter to bed, but a big hand stopped you

-"Please continue... I want to know how it ends, please"- Brienne whispered looking at you with the same eyes as your daughter, carefully settling into the couch leaving your daughter lying on her chest, carefully covering her with a blanket. Your daughter smiled in her sleep and snuggled more into her. By the end of the story, the two were comfortably cuddling and asleep, so much so that you were sorry to wake them up, so you didn't, they looked so peaceful together, as if Brienne belonged there, in the lives of the two of you. You put everything in order smiling and went to sleep.

In the morning, when you went down and didn't find them, you were very scared, but relief returned to your body when you saw them outside playing with the dog. In silence and tranquility you made breakfast, and then took it to the two girls who were outside. As they ate, your daughter looked at you two smiling

-"Mommy, I have a great idea! Did you see how the crops are getting bigger and bigger and more people are buying veggies from you and you can never play with me because you don't have time? It occurred to me that if Brienne stays here, she can help us farm, she's very strong, she would also take care of us and you could both play with me every day! We could be like a family!" - When you heard it, you choked on the juice you were drinking and started coughing

-"Baby... The Lord Commander already has a job... She can't stay here..." - You whispered, avoiding Brienne's gaze

-"But this job would be so much better! Being here is quieter than all those dangerous battles, plus she would have the privilege of playing with me every day and listening to stories every night! - your daughter said excitedly looking at Brienne, the eldest just sighed looking at your daughter

-"The men have already recovered from their wounds and we have to continue on our way to the castle..." -Brienne whispered and saw how you and your daughter sighed with sadness - "also after that I have to talk to the kings about some injustices that were committed in the past, so that they can fix them" - the blonde looked at you- "But after that I will have to return immediately to you two, to give back all that your mother has given to me and to the soldiers, I will certainly have to stay for a long time, if your mother agrees, to make sure that everything is okay and payed. I have so much to pay your mother, she has done so much for me and I owe her so much, so many apologies and so many things... Besides I'll have to go back to my favorite girl, we still owe each other a battle"- she said looking at your daughter and she smiled a lot, very excited

-"Yes! That's going to give me time to make a new sword and armor and practice more." - Your daughter smiled and started planning more things by talking nonstop. Brienne took your hand carefully under the table, you looked at it with a raised eyebrow

-"If it is okay with you, if you let me, I'll be back as soon as I can and I'll pay for all the wrong they've done to you... All the wrong I did, I'll spend every day fixing all that happened, I won't lose you twice and I won't make the same mistakes again, I promise..."-she whispered, caressing your hand and you smiled, looking into her eyes and nodding

-"It's okay with me" - You whispered, caressing her hand too-"We'll wait for you..."

[n7punk]

Adventures in unlicensed buffoonary! Recently this SPOP "Trivia book" got listed on Ebay, which was baffling to me both because I had never seen it before and because it was listed for two hundred fucking dollars

My gut instinct was "this isn't real" because again, I'm a freak who knows all these things, and yeah I can confirm this is bullshit.

Clayton Gallagher makes himself scarce online (probably to hide out from the lawyers), so I couldn't find any social media or a website for him - not to mention it's the name of a character from one of the Shameless shows to fuzz the radar - but he seems to exclusively create "trivia" and activity books based on random popular... things. Mostly shows (Trollhunters, the Amazing World of Gumball, etc) but also some... other things (Dolly Parton for some reason??).

He has created not one, but FOUR trvia books for She-ra, all using stolen/promotional art but that carefully never include any official endorsement or mention of Dreamworks, Netflix, Mattel, or Filmation. I'm highly convinced these things were written with AI, mostly due to things like the below excerpt from the first book's summary:

Like. Jesus christ. Maybe it's just a second language thing but the lack of spaces screams machine bullshit and we'll look at the insides later.

Okay so the first book came out on August 19th 2021 (another reason I lean towards AI) and features the debut season art. All the others came out on August 20th 2021 (literally a day later) and feature the season two art, stolen licensed book cover art (from Island of the Magical Creatures), and the season four teaser art (Rebellion variant).

I can only find these things available as e-books but apparently, supposedly, this one eBay seller has a rare physical paperback, which surely must make it worth 270$. I fully don't believe this is a real paperback unless it was self-printed. I think you either get a shitty slapped-together print out or a puff of smoke if you order this.

Now lets get into the stunning content. They all start with the cover art and then the same incredibly generic header

After about two seconds of investigation I see this is a pattern with all his trivia books across franchises. They all start like this and have identical copyright pages as well. Instead of taking four screenshots to show content is identical, just trust me from here on out everything is exactly the same across the She-ra books, including chapter headings, formatting, and trivia questions. These are just cover swaps.

The final chapters cut off here are "Chapter 6" and "See you later", neither of which has a page number. Again, this awkward phrasing is either written by AI or the author is ESL and I'm pretty 50/50 split on which. Let's get into the "trivia" and see if it solves it, shall we?

So. A couple things.

Yes, it DOES have a fill-in the blank for you to write your name even though this was clearly intended to be primarily, if not exclusively, an e-book. That's bold innovation!

They start off strong with a misspelling of quiz in the fucking header.

The formatting is godawful (point to AI for inconsistency, any human would see the obvious problems here as they work - or if they cared enough to glance at the output, which they clearly don't. Why is there a random A. out of nowhere?).

The trivia questions are awful (is She-ra an America streaming show? You think this counts as trivia that a kid - the obvious target demographic - wants to know? Second, I KNOW you're saying streaming because you're so scared of the word Netflix but somehow you're not worried about using the show logo and literally stealing the promotional art for the cover?).

The trivia answers are awful. Mama? Really? Maria is the only kind of good option because it's close to Mara to trip kids up or whatever, but also none of these are "other names" for She-ra! Adora and Mara are people who bear the title of She-ra, but you can't say "Genocide Joe" is another name for president, that's not how titles work! If you wanted to use this question, the answer would be "Princess of Power".

(Also lol at the answer key for question 2 now being wrong. Shit that might have been wrong at the time, when did Nate choose a new name? 2021? 2022? All those years blur together).

Okay I know you've all been on the edge of your seat about that last question cut off at the bottom of the page and yes, it is as factually wrong as you're expecting, and only gets worse as we settle firmly into the "AI" territory.

More lists because jesus christ.

Everyone knows Adora is She-ra. This is not a secret. The answer is every member of the Rebellion and most random citizens. 5 is equally stupid given yes, they never existin the same space at the same time, but people always watch Adora transform before their eyes. The grammar is also bad, but whatever, this does segue into the next questions.

Question six is when it becomes obvious what happened: the writer fed prompts into an AI without fact-checking anything and the AI gave back answers related both to the reboot and to the original. He-man canonically does not exist - he isn't just not mentioned for legal reasons, Mattel said he straight up could not exist or ever be hinted at (due to not existing) - in SPOP. 7 is once again completely untrue in the reboot. Adora came through a portal - not necessarily kidnapped, not from Eternia, and again, no Adam

Why is only Sunna's name in black for question 9. Mostly shocked they spelled her name right.

Things somehow manage to fall apart even more in the final remaining questions available in the Kindle preview sample!

Genuinely have no idea what the answer to 15 is supposed to be. "What is the original country of SPOP have?" isn't a sentence. All I can figure is you're supposed to pick America as it's the country of origin, but I don't trust this book to even have an answer key at the end, so who knows. All that said, Earth was canon in the original, so this might be (intended to be) related to the 80s series.

The Cure took me out.

Okay but Adora isn't leading the "Great" Rebellion!! She's definitely a major leader on the field, but the answer is Angella! There is no correct option here! If they said "the Princess Alliance" I would let that go because you could argue she is the leader of the Princesses, but the rebellion? No, that's the whole military and Angella/Glimmer lead that.

17. THE ANSWER IS ANGELLA. I fully do not believe you're supposed to pick false here, this is not a trick question, they're just wrong (see question above for evidence they're stupid)

They don't even call it the Great Rebellion in the reboot....

The sample ran out and I'm not paying money to feed this AI bullshit but I don't expect it to improve from here.

Anyway this was an interesting display of Bullshit and fuck AI generated books fr

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 10

Hello! If you haven't seen it yet, I've got a set schedule for what story posts on what days now (as seen here) and this one as well as Icarus, Batshit Soulmates, and Never Hold Back Your Step... will still be posting just on rotation until I can finish some of my WIPs. (I may be stretching myself a bit thin having six going at the same time.)

In this chapter Steve gets a migraine dealing with his pack, Eddie and Wayne try to get a little deeper into the mystery of the town, and Robin has a big decision to make.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

****

While things were getting better outside the pack, things weren’t going as well inside the pack.

Someone was riling up the older pack members to fight Steve on every decision.

“Joyce,” Steve growled warningly. “I won’t tell you again. I’m not taking Nancy as bondmate. Nor do you want me to. Not unless your son has broken up with her recently. So recently I don’t know about it.”

Joyce rolled her eyes. “Of course not. But in the history of this pack, the alpha female has always been bonded to to the alpha male. It’s tradition.”

“Which pack are we talking about?” Steve snarled. “The one where Hopper was alpha and didn’t notice two families being abused by their father because he was drunk off his ass all the time? Or are we talking about the one that threatened to rape and kill my mother for accidentally walking into compound as a mortal woman and was only saved by Wayne Munson passing by? Or the one where Clarence Harrington founded the pack back in the 1800s?”

Joyce took a step back in the face of his rage.

“Maybe it’s time to see traditions aren’t working out for the pack and to move forward,” Steve said baring his teeth.

She looked him square in the eye, daring him to make a move.

“Submit,” he snarled, using his alpha voice. “Or be banished for this lack of respect you have shown me since I became alpha.”

There had been pack members milling around when they started arguing and more had gathered.

They all gasped when Steve threatened banishment.

“Do. You. Submit?”

She gulped and lowered her head for the first time in his presence. She kept her eyes on the ground and murmured, “Yes, alpha.”

He turned to the gathered pack. “Anyone who doesn’t respect my authority as alpha is free to go, no judgment. But I will not stand for willful and flagrant disobedience just because the person is older than me. Do I make myself clear?”

The assembled all nodded, making noises of affirmation.

“Good,” he said and then waved his arm. “Now scram!”

They all fled including Joyce.

Jonathan came up to him after everyone else had gone.

“You going to question my authority, too?” Steve snapped, a migraine starting pulse behind his eyes.

The other boy shook his head. “Nah, man. I know you’re cool. It’s just hard on my mom because Hopper would still be alpha if he hadn’t been kidnapped and she doesn’t know what to do with you being alpha so young.”

Steve sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “Yeah, it’s not normal, but we have to change if we are to survive. The world is moving fast. Faster than anything this pack has ever dealt with and if we don’t move with it, it will kill us.”

Jonathan nodded. “I’ll talk to her. See if I can’t get her to be at least not as antagonistic toward you. Because since you’ve become alpha things are really starting to change around here, for the better, too. She just needs to acknowledge that.”

Steve clapped Jonathan on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. Because you can get her to calm down...”

“Then Hop will do the same...” Jonathan continued.

“And hopefully Murray will follow after,” Steve finished. “And while that won’t miraculously fix all the packs problems...”

“It make it easier for to focus on the things that still need fixing.”

He nodded. “Right in one.”

Jonathan gave his shoulder a squeeze and then walked away.

****

Steve lay on his bed as Robin stroked his hair gently.

“All I’m saying is that a lot problems would be solved if you became pack,” Steve mumbled into her side.

His migraine had taken control of his body and he was in agony. No one was sure why things like headaches, period cramps, and cancer were immune to the werewolf’s ability to super heal, but it really sucked that there were.

“And a whole lot more problems that would crop up if I did,” she reminded him.

He sighed deeply. At the moment he didn’t care about the problems, only the solutions and he told her so.

Robin sighed. “I want to. But I don’t want to alienate my family if I do, you know?”

Steve struggled to sit up. Robin protested his moving but was helpless to stop the much stronger alpha.

He tucked his knees under him and took her hands gently in hers. “This decision is only one you can make. But believe me when I say you have to make it for you. Not me, not your parents or friends. Not even that pretty siren girl you like. You. What do you want to do?”

Robin hung her head. “Can I think about it?”

He squeezed her hands. “Of course you can. I can’t do anything until you’re eighteen anyway and that’s a few months away. But I want you to make a choice that’s best for you.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

****

It wasn’t like Gareth straight up laughed in Eddie’s face when he asked about moon days. But it was a near thing.

“I’m a gwyllgi,” he said. He pronounced it like g-with-gee. “It’s like the English Black Dogs, only cooler. I can transform at anytime or place, but my family tends to be groundskeepers for cemeteries and graveyards.”

He shook his head. “All these years playing together in a band and you never knew I was a supe.”

Jeff scoffed. “In all fairness, he was the only human for a number of those years.”

“That’s true,” Brian agreed, “and it’s not like gwyllgi have a scent to them the way werewolves do. Cut him some slack.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side as he scented the air. “I don’t think that’s quite true.”

The three other boys stood stock still as Jeff and Brian sniffed.

Jeff looked to Eddie. “Is that the smell of freshly overturned soil?”

Brian sniffed a little longer. “A bit of death, too.”

Gareth grinned, jumping up and down. “I was wondering when you guys were going to figure it out.”

They all turned to him and cocked their heads.

“Graveyards. You smell like a graveyard!” Brian said. “That’s I was having trouble placing it. Sirens bury their dead at sea.”

Gareth shuddered. “Sirens are weird.”

“How are you friends with two vampires?” Eddie asked. “Aren’t gwyllgi supposed to protect graveyards from entities like Jeff and me?”

Gareth tilted his head to the side and Eddie was struck by how dog-like his friend was.

He shrugged. “My parents vetted all of you before I was allowed to hang out with you guys. If my parents think you guys are cool, what the fuck do I care what you eat?”

Jeff and Eddie looked at each other and huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said ruffling Gareth’s hair. “Will you take notes during the next moon day and find out what they are teaching kids these days? Because Steve is really worried. Crosses and werewolves have never been a thing.”

Gareth nodded solemnly. “Yeah, even my parents are worried about what that might mean for the gwyllgi. They might decide we’re werewolves and come after us next.”

Eddie winced. That was a real possibility that he really didn’t want to think of right then. But he filed the thought away to talk to Wayne and Steve about later.

“What about you, Bri?” Jeff asked. “You hear anything in your neck of the woods?”

Brian shrugged. “People don’t like being friends with sirens so we tend to be shunned when they know what we are. It’s why I didn’t tell you guys for years.”

“It’s only when you sing though, right?” Eddie asked. “The compelling people to do shit, right?”

Brian shrugged again, fiddling with the tuning pegs on his base. “All sorts of rules to, too. But they don’t care. They think just talking to me will force them to do stuff.”

Eddie frowned. He knew he was new to the supernatural world being a bitten vampire, but there was so much bullshit that he wasn’t sure he could navigate through all of it.

“Well, siren or no,” he said fiercely. “You’re our friend and if anyone gives you hell, just point them me and Jeffey’s direction.”

Brian nodded still looking at the floor. All three other boys came over and hugged him.

“Thanks, guys.”

****

Wayne watched as Jason and Patrick toiled in the midday sun. The work was hard and more than a little tedious, but if they were working, they didn’t have the energy to cause trouble.

Patrick was already starting to shift his beliefs just from talking to Wayne and listening to his stories about fighting for the Union in the Civil War, about this town’s heritage.

Jason, he knew was going to be a tougher nut to crack. Jason was far too used to being spoiled and given everything he wanted when he wanted it to bend to Wayne’s will easily.

But Wayne had his ways and the first thing he needed to do was earn the boy’s trust.

“Did they kick you two off the team?” he rumbled.

Both boys looked up at him and then each other. They stopped what they were doing and leaned on their shovels.

Patrick snorted disdainfully. “They probably should have, but that would have meant removing their entire starting line and Principal Higgins wasn’t about to do that.”

“I got removed from being captain, though,” Jason said bitterly. He kicked at clod of dirt viciously with his foot to show his frustration.

“Who’s the new captain?” Wayne asked gently.

“Dirk Garroway,” Patrick said, glancing over at Jason. “He’s the younger brother of a former member of the team. A lot of the team isn’t happy about it.”

“That’s because he’s afraid of his own fucking shadow,” Jason sneered.

Patrick hid his wince well from Jason, but Wayne noticed nonetheless. “He’s always playing it safe. He doesn’t take risks. Which is great if you want a middle of the road team, but not one that’s going to win championships.”

“That’s certainly true,” Wayne said warmly. “Tell me what happened in the most recent game.”

Jason sneered. “Why would you care?”

Patrick looked panicked. He didn’t want to antagonize Wayne and was always afraid that if Jason mouthed off then Patrick would get the blow back.

“I’ve seen the rise of many a sport here in this country,” Wayne said with a smile. “But basketball and baseball are my favorites.”

That brought Jason up short. He straightened his spine and looked at Wayne with interest. “So you seen all the greats?”

Gotcha! Wayne thought with a grin.

“Sure have seen quite a few of them at any rate,” Wayne said sagely. “Who are your favorites?”

Jason launched into his inspirations and what his aspirations had been before he made the stupidest mistake of his life.

Wayne looked over at Patrick and winked. The other boy blushed, but was starting to finally relax.

It would take some time, but it was now only a matter of how long before Wayne got his answers on why they thought killing the Harrington Pack alpha would solve this town’s woes.

Because Steve was right.

There was something rotten in this town just below the surface. Below what he could see.

And wasn’t that just a terrifying thought.

****

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @bookbinderbitch @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @tinyplanet95 @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

[solvrized]

secret texts

୨୧ ꒰ pairing ꒱ : silver x f!reader

୨୧ ꒰ context ꒱ : au silver was asking for love advice and accidentally sent the text to you

୨୧ ꒰ tags ꒱ : smut, sexting

୨୧ ꒰ author’s note ꒱ : its me again writing content for silver, aged up ofc. idk how to write out texts so pls forgive the look if it’s ugly x.x

It was a normal night for you. You were laying in bed listening to music and studying when your phone flashed a notification.

silver: well how am i supposed to tell [y/n] when every time i see her, my brain thinks less than appropriates thoughts

y: um, i’m gonna assume this wasn’t meant for me?

silver: please forgive me [y/n]. can you pretend you didn’t read that?

y: aww silver don't apologize. i'll continue to think about it actually. so you like me huh?

silver: no... i was telling someone what someone else said about you.

y: yeah uh huh, sure you were. if that’s the case, can you tell me who said it? maybe i think less than inappropriate thoughts about them too, who knows?

silver: i seriously doubt that.

y:well we’ll never know unless you just tell me.

silver: well that’s never going to happen so let’s just leave this conversation where it is, sorry for disturbing your night prefect.

y: well, now i’m just gonna have to assume it’s you who thinks about me that way. and that has me really wet right now, believe it or not.

silver: i find that very hard to believe.

you take your pillow and set it up in front of you so that you can lean your phone it. you slide off your underwear and open you legs and position yourself in front of the camera. leaving your face out so it’s just you from the lips down, in your night jersey and your area on display.

you take your fingers and spread your lips apart so that he can see how wet you are.

y: attachment.image

y: believe me now?

he swallows hard. not expecting for this conversation to be happening and certainly not expecting to see you like this. his boner growing hard in his own pants.

silver is very much a traditional man and he never expected to be seeing this from you.

yet, he can't help his growing desire for you. not wanting to miss this opportunity, he slides his boxers down and takes a picture.

carefully checking the name to make sure he doesn’t have the same mishap.

silver: attachment.image

silver: i can't believe i'm dong this. look what what you’ve done.

y: can i tell you all the things that i want to do to you right now?

silver: please go ahead.

y: well first i’d love to see how you taste. your cock looks nice and big and i’d love to see how much of you i could fit. i’d pay attention to every breath and moan you make when my tongue glides over you so i know what to keep doing.

silver: i’d hold your head in my hands as i fuck your mouth. i’d push myself into the back of your throat making you take all of me. i’d cum in your mouth and watch you swallow every last drop.

y: my my silver, who knew you had this in you?

y: after that, i would stand up and bend over so that you could take me. you’d smack my ass really hard and you’d slam into me as i scream your name over and over.

silver: i’d grab your boobs for stability and play with them as i pound into you over and over. i wouldn’t stop until you were begging me to let you cum

y: i’d squeeze myself around you to feel you twitch inside of me

silver: and i’d make you let me fill you up so much that i’d be dripping down your leg

y: i think i'm cumming for real now

silver: yeah i’ve definitely made a mess on my bed

y: we should maybe do this in real life sometime huh?

silver: can i at least take you out on a proper date first?

y: of course. i can't wait :)

[asshlyyyy]

Christmas

Fic Warnings: Mentions of possible miscarriage. Pregnancy, swearing I'm pretty sure...? If not, disregard this warning. Mentions of being sick, being sick, vomiting. There may be spelling and grammatical errors. Author's note at the end. Please let me know if I missed any warnings! Thank you!

Note: This could be read as a stand alone or as a part two to Thanksgiving!

Masterlist | Previous Part

You walked up to the front door and turned the handle opening up the door. You two never really bothered to lock the door since you were behind the gates. You only really locked it at night. You placed your car keys off to the side, away from Elvis’ cause lord knows he doesn’t know which key belongs to which car. You closed the door behind you and started to take off your coat. 

“Mama!” Your son’s voice filled your ears.

“Hi my sweet son,” You smiled and hung the coat up. You walked over to him and picked him up from the floor, Elvis was just sitting a few feet away from you. 

You had just come back from your doctor’s appointment to check on the baby. Elvis wanted to come with, but someone had to watch Theodore. You also couldn’t bring him because he doesn’t do the best in new places.

“How’d it go?” Elvis asked as he got up and made his way over to you. 

“It went well, he just told me to be careful.” You responded with a smile as you looked up at him. 

“So nothing bad?” He questioned as he placed his arm around you. You let out a hum and shook your head. 

“No, he just thinks it might be stress because of the holidays.” You responded as you kissed your son's head, holding him close to your chest. 

“Okay,” Elvis nodded and kissed the side of your head, offering to take your purse. Which you happily gave him. You sat down on the couch and just held your son close. You looked down at your belly and frowned lightly. 

For how far along you were, you were growing big. With Theo, you carried him small, but it looks like this baby wants more room. You knew that with each pregnancy you were bound to grow weight, it’s natural. Not only because of the baby but also because of how our body works. You were good at keeping control of it. 

“What are we doing for Christmas?” You asked as you looked over towards Elvis who was picking up the toys off the ground. 

“I think we were going to host again?” Elvis looked at you with a questioning expression. 

“We can, we would just have to go to the store. We just don't have ham or anything.” You explained to him as you rubbed Theo’s back gently.

“I can send someone out. The stores are probably crazy right now.” You nodded lightly at his response. Your heart felt… sad. It felt empty almost.

“Can you put him down for his nap?” You asked as you looked at the sleepy boy on your chest. 

“Yeah of course,” Elvis said as he took Theodore out of your arms. You mumbled a thank you and watched as he walked away. Elvis knew something was wrong the moment you walked inside. He just didn’t know how much truth you told him. 

You lay down on the couch and pulled the blanket down onto your body. You cuddled into the blanket and reached for the book that was on the coffee table. It was one of your sons, but it was a story either way. It was the story of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Did it give your son a light scare at first? Yes, but once he learned that the Grinch doesn’t come unless you are extra bad, he was okay. 

You actually had a lot of Dr. Suess books. In fact, you got Theodore the two that came out this year for his present. How you opted to do Christmas was that Santa gave the essentials, the ���boring’ stuff some may call. He may give a toy here and there, but the fun stuff comes from the parents. You didn’t want him to see you guys as boring. To some kids, books may be a boring gift, but he loves to look at the pictures. He was still too young to read, but he liked to point at everything and ask, wha?

You heard Elvis as he began to walk down the stairs. His shoes hit rough against the carpeted stairs. Which bothered you to no extent. You wanted to keep a clean house. He would then argue that it was the maid’s job to vacuum and clean the floors. Some nonsense really.

“He’s all put down and- you’re reading one of his books?” Elvis questioned as he placed the white baby monitor down on the coffee table.

“It was the only thing nearby,” you replied simply. However, just on the opposite end near the lamp sat a copy of the holy bible. Maybe you were just in your feels and didn’t want a hard book to read. Nonetheless, something was wrong.

“All right, tell me what happened,” Elvis spoke as he appeared back into the living room. You tore your eyes away from the book and looked over at him. 

“I told you what happened.” You said, returning your gaze back to the book. Not really wanting to have this conversation. 

“And I know that there is more than what you told me.” Elvis came to the couch. He moved your legs out of the way and quickly sat down, resting your legs on his lap. You let out a sigh and looked over at him. You closed the book and laid it down in your lap.

“He said if I’m not careful I can lose the baby,” you spoke softly. You didn’t even wanna say those words out loud. It would just make it feel more real, and you felt your eyes start to water up. 

“Hey hey,” Elvis’ tone softened. “What? Why would he say that?”

“You know how I went because of a pain? That I felt… really sick.” You brought up as you wiped away your slight tears before things got too crazy.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“He says it isn’t normal to be really sick during pregnancy. Sure morning sickness is normal but… with the sickness and overworking myself. He basically bedridden me.” You explained to him, humming to the feeling of Elvis rubbing his hand up and down your leg. 

“We’ll get through this together okay?” He tried to reassure you, but you both knew deep down the Colonel would pull him away to film some random movie. The two of you repositioned yourselves and your back laid against his chest. His hand rested on your small bump and rubbed slight circles against it.

You played the rest of the day safe. Once your son woke up from his nap you played some games with him before one of the maids started dinner. You felt bad keeping them from their family, but you sent most of them home already. Only two decided to stay and you were thankful. 

Everyone was tucked away in bed before you knew it. Of course not until after you left out milk and cookies for Santa, which Elvis was gonna have to eat and drink later. Along with putting the carrots back in the fridge. He also had you write Santa a little note. Asking for some last-minute items, even though you told him it was too late. Theo argued his case and won.

Christmas Day came sooner than you expected. Well, three in the morning kind of soon. You sat on the floor near the toilet. Everything you had eaten at dinner down the drain of the toilet. It wasn’t just morning sickness anymore. This baby was just… taking everything out of you. So, you sat there until you were able to push yourself up.

Elvis was still sound asleep. He had these moments where he would be either a heavy sleeper or a really light sleeper. Today was one of those heavy nights. You rinsed your mouth out with some water and popped a mint before heading back to bed. You didn’t expect him to wake up every single time. Someone needed rest to watch after Theodore, and Elvis was just more capable of that.

Despite not being able to do much, you knew damn well that you were going to dress up for the holidays. So, as you walked down the grand white staircase, you heard laughter and voices coming from the living room. You steadied yourself on the railing and put on your bravest smile. 

Truth be told, you woke up and just didn’t want to move. And this is after the hour you had awake between three and four. Maybe you shouldn’t have ever moved since your doctor bedridden you. To say the least, you were grateful for your maids was an understatement. They would be the ones cooking and cleaning until this baby comes. Without them, you didn’t know how your baby would survive, not off of Elvis’ cooking that’s for damn sure.

You reached the bottom of the stairs and heard your baby boy’s voice announcing your arrival. “Mama!” He squealed in happiness. He got up on his feet and made his way over to you.

“Hi my sweet boy,” you said and reached down picking him up. You pressed multiple kisses on his cheek and made your way into the living room. “Look how beautiful you look, Y/n,” your mother complimented you.

“Thank you, mama,” you said with a smile. Though, you doubted you even looked that beautiful. No amount of makeup or pretty dresses will hide the fact that you weren’t feeling well.

Elvis got up from his place on the couch and offered you his seat, which you gladly accepted. “So honey, is there a reason you’re not cooking today?” Your mother questioned.

“Oh, I’m just not feeling that well today, so Janice is holding down the kitchen,” you said with a small smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that dear,” your mother responded. You replied with a smile node and reached over for Elvis’s hand. 

“I believe we were gonna open up presents before dinner, right darlin’?” Elvis looked over at you, seeing if that was still the schedule.

“Yes,” you nodded. “With everything planned out after dinner, Theo should fall asleep at his normal time.” You further explained looking over at your family. 

“What about your father, Elvis? Isn’t he joining us?” Your mother asked with her sweet-toned southern accent. 

“Unfortunately not, that b-“ Elvis quickly coughed to cover up what he almost accidentally said. “That wife of his has him over at their place celebrating. I think she’s still mad about Thanksgiving.” 

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that son,” your father said. Elvis smiled softly at him as a way to express gratitude. 

“Shall we exchange gifts then? I know Theo must be dying to rip them open,” she let out a chuckle. Everyone joined in with her. You tickled Theo’s stomach and watched as he erupted in a fit of giggles. 

“Let’s have him pick?” Elvis suggested, though it sounded like he was asking for permission. He wanted to be careful with what he said, he didn’t want to cause you any stress. 

“Of course,” you responded and placed Theo down on the floor. At first, Theo just sat down, but with some encouragement from his family. He made his way over to the tree. 

You had to arrange some things around, but you placed the tree where the grand white piano is. You, more like you had Elvis, move the piano back so that you could fit the tree. You always thought it looked nicest there. 

Theo looked around trying to figure out what to grab first. Should he go for something big or something small? You just thought he was lost and confused about what to do. He was only two after all. Elvis kneeled down and placed his hand on your son’s back.

“How about we check the stockings? See if Santa filled them with some candy and toys,” your fiancé encouraged the young boy. Theo nodded excitedly at the sound of Santa, toys, and candy. 

You watched your boys make their way over to the fireplace and Elvis pulled down the stocking. He wanted it to Theo and you watched as he started to pull things out one by one. You hummed softly and leaned back, and nuzzled into the blanket that was thrown around you. 

Gifts took… an awfully long time. It was just, that every time Theo opened something he had to play with it right away. It would take anywhere from a minute, to five to get him to open up another present. Not to mention the tears he would shed because he couldn’t play with his toy. It was… a very emotional roller coaster.  

“I actually have one more gift to give,” your father spoke up as he stood up. “I think you’ll be very happy with it.” He looked at you as he said it. You looked at him confused and pulled yourself away from Elvis’ shoulder. 

“I found it the other day when I was cleaning out the attic,” your father explained as he pulled up a box that was hidden from your eyesight. 

“What is it?” You questioned as he placed the box in your hands. 

“Open it and you’ll see.” You rolled your eyes playfully at him and opened the box. You froze when you saw the old ragged, yet somehow in perfect condition, stuffed bunny staring up at you.

You lifted the bunny carefully and continued to stare at it. “Is this Miffy?” You asked as you looked over at your father. 

“It is, I thought… maybe you could pass her down to your baby once they are born.” You smiled softly at his answer and nodded. 

You got Miffy when you were a young girl. You would wear your pretty dresses and run around the yard. She slept by your side every night. Then she became a decoration on your dresser, and then soon she was placed in the attic. You never thought you would see her again, let alone in such great condition.

“I cleaned and fixed her up,” your mother spoke to you. 

“Thank you, this… this means a lot to me.” You started to tear up. You and your goddamn pregnancy emotions. You were quick to wipe your eyes and soon picked up your boy from the ground. 

The fear of losing your baby just kept coming back to you. You didn’t mean to think about it, but… seeing Miffy, and your dad suggesting giving her to your baby once they’re born. It brought that fear that if you are not careful enough, they’ll die. 

You held Theodore close and excused yourself from your family. You pulled on your coat and boots and walked outside. “Mama, oday?” Theodore looked at you worried as he snuggled closer under your coat. 

“Yes, mama is okay.” You replied softly and kissed the top of his head. 

Don’t stress over this.

The more stress, the more likely you’ll have a miscarriage.

Happy thoughts, Y/n, happy thoughts.

“Hey baby, everything okay?” You heard your mother’s voice. You turned your head and spotted her behind her fluffy coat. 

“Yeah, just got a bit emotional, is all,” you gave her a sad smile.

“May I offer some advice?” She asked gently. You nodded slowly and looked at her, your hand rubbing your son’s back. 

“You’re gonna face rough pregnancies every so often. At the end of the day, when you are holding your baby close to your chest… that is when it all matters. It may seem rough, and like your life is over, but at the end of the tunnel is God’s greatest gift. A newborn baby.” She spoke as she looked at you, never for a second leaving your eyes. 

“Do you think he sees us as sinners?” You asked with a sad expression. You may have not been heavily influenced by God, but he played a role in your life. Just as he did with your fiancé. 

“Just because you two aren’t married? Perhaps, but he knows that you two are down that road of getting married. He knows Elvis has a crazy schedule. I believe he made an exception just for you two.”

“How do you always know what to say?” You questioned. 

“I’m your mother, I’m supposed to.” She smiled and pulled you into a hug, being careful of the toddler against your chest. You leaned into her hug, not being able to properly hug back.

“Thank you.”

The three of you went back inside and waited for dinner to happen. The maids made a beautiful and tasteful dinner. The main course being the Ham. You didn’t understand the reasoning behind holiday meats. Thanksgiving was always served with Turkey, maybe a ham, but Christmas was served with ham. 

Your plate was full to the brim, hopefully, you’ll be able to keep it all down. You hardly had much to eat during the day. A bowl of oatmeal and fresh-cut fruit in the morning, and then dinner now. After everyone finished up their plate, everyone slowly but surely left. Your parents, your brother… Vernon made sure to stop by to drop off presents and say hi. 

Other than that, the maids cleaned up, you got Theo in the bath. Then you got him all ready to go to bed, with the help of Elvis. You then got in the bath yourself, figuring that would be the best way to destress. Before you knew it, you were in your pajamas and getting in bed.

You hummed softly as you pulled back the bed covers. You weren’t one to lie and say that the silk covers kept you warm during these cold months. Nonetheless, it made Elvis happy, and if Elvis was happy; you were happy. But- there was no way in hell you were gonna suffer while pregnant during the winter.

“Elvis,” you called out to him as you got into bed, slipping your legs under the covers.

“Yeah, darlin’?~~” You hum at his voice. You don’t know how, but he just sounded more southern at night. Maybe it was because he was getting sleepy. His voice was getting more raspy, the whole nine yards.

“We’re switching covers tomorrow.” You stated, not bothering to ask. You wanted your fleece sheets, not freezing silk.

“Hold on now-“ he came in from the bathroom, a toothbrush loosely hanging from his mouth. “What’s wrong with these?”

“Cold,” you answered simply, “and the baby doesn’t want to be cold. Mama doesn’t want to be cold.” You gave him that look. It was that very same look that said a million unspoken words. 

Elvis had a lot of say what got done in his house. Despite it being considered as both of yours. At the end of the day, it was Elvis’ name on the deed. He was the one to purchase it. He was the one who got to design and plan out the rooms. Then of course your son got a say in what went on in his bedroom. Despite the mess, he would make every single day. All you were asking was for a simple change of the sheets. 

“Fine fine,” he muttered under his breath as he returned to the bathroom. You choose to ignore it just this once. 

Does the bedroom bother you? Yes, it absolutely does. Compared to the rest of the house, it was dark and moody. It almost screamed vampire. You were more than happy with the blackout curtains, but you wanted it to look more lively. To match the rest of the house. Then again, you think it would kill Elvis if you put any sense of color in his bedroom. 

You reached over to your side table and picked up the book you were reading earlier. Joy in the Morning by Betty Smith. While Elvis was more into books that related closely to the lord, you were more of a romance fan. You liked your little romance novels because deep down you wanted your romance to be like them. 

That isn’t to say that the relationship you have sucks. You have your rough moments just like every other couple. In these stories though… it feels as if nothing ever goes wrong for them. That is what you wanted. A perfect life, a perfect relationship, a perfect… everything. Yet every night before you two signed off, you would read together a verse in the bible. One chosen at random. 

You would open the book, and go through the pages, stop at one random, run your finger along the page, and stop it at random. You two liked to take it as… a reading. Thought most of the time the verses don’t lead you on a path of anything. They are more or less… well, they are verses. Not fortune tellings, but you two still liked to take them as such.

The bathroom soon became dark and Elvis emerged from the doorframe. He made his way over to the bed and slid in next to you. Well, more like got in… then scooted over to you. He pressed a kiss to your head and pulled you into his warm embrace. You let out a light giggle and made sure to quickly save your space in the book. 

“You know, I haven’t given you your gift yet.” He spoke softly. You hummed softly and turned your head upwards to look at him.

“You’re giving me a baby, Elvis.” You spoke gently as you brought your hand up to his jaw. 

“I can give you one of those any time. This is a special gift.”

“And what does it have that the other special gifts don’t?” You raised your eyebrow. 

“I-,” Elvis didn’t know how to respond. He generally just needed the excuse of Christmas to give you more gifts. “God told me to.”

“Did he now? And what did he tell you to get me?” You played along with his statement.

“Well, that’s for you to find out,” he pulled out a neatly wrapped long box. You could already guess that it was some type of jewelry because of the box. Not a ring or earrings, could be a bracelet, necklace, or even a watch. The possibilities were endless. 

You took it out of his hands and ran your palm against it. “Let’s see if God chose correctly then.” You pulled the wrapped paper off and revealed a black velvet box. The words of a jewelry company posted on top. You opened it and saw a beautiful gold necklace with an oval, and an E engraved on it. 

You opened the necklace and smiled at the pictures already in them. A picture of you and Elvis, a picture of Theodore, and two more spaces to be filled. You looked over at Elvis and started to tear up. “Elvis,” you whispered. 

“Once our baby gets born we can add their picture… then we can do a family picture as well.”

“It’s perfect, I love it.” You threw your arms around him and pressed multiple kisses on his face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he rubbed your back gently. “Merry Christmas, my darlin’,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and held his hand on your bump.

It may have started off as a rough day, but the ending was most worth it. Much like other things. The beginning may suck, but if you truck through to the end you will be rewarded. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips as you kissed him.

“I love you, and I love our baby.”

“I love them too,” you smiled alongside with him. Just think, next year you’ll have two kids for Christmas. It may be chaotic, but you were ready for this chapter. 

Special Taglist: @darlinboypresley @austinstyles

Author's note: I started writing this after the first part went up. But it took me all the day till the 19th to finish. I am not completely a hundred percent happy with this, but I think I want to turn this into a holiday fic. I don't think there will be one for New Years. I can see an Easter one happening, a 4th of July one, Halloween, loop back around I might do Veteran's day instead of Thanksgiving for next year. Then ending it again with Christmas. Of course the newborn being there.

In the original fic, the reader actually suffered a miscarriage, and I wasn't completely sure if I wanted to copy that over. So, I placed the idea in this fic, it does not mean it will happen, but it leaves the doors open for that possibility, though I kind of just said what would happen.

Next fic will be posted on Christmas Day. I hope to have it done much quicker then I did this fic. I hope everyone is having a wonderful holidays!

[not-poignant]

wait okay so now that you're seriously thinking of publishing, will you be writing a new prequel to game theory with the new 'Canon'? like the story as it's meant to have happened between gwyn, augus, terho and the nightingale, or are we just starting from game theory?

ALSO I'm so glad that you might be publishing the ftv soon for wholly selfish reasons -- you're clearly done writing about these characters, but personally I am nowhere near done reading about them, and I'm definitely not creative enough to write fanfiction myself either, so I'm just stuck rotating the characters inside my head like a microwave😭😭 it's really tough out here!!!

imagine the massive wave of new readers and the new community that's gonna come in once the story's more accessible... IT'S SO EXCITING

Hi anon!

No prequel, I'll be starting with Game Theory (and Deeper into the Woods will be published afterwards as a prequel, just as it was chronologically in general!)

Quite a bit of Game Theory is being edited and new content being added (anyone on the Gary & Efnisien tier can already see about 2,000 words of new content in the first three chapters alone, including new scene/s with Crielle), and some content being removed where it's OOC. The events with Terho and the Nightingale will be explained in Game Theory, with Gwyn likely meeting with Terho (or learning about him) a few times within.

As for Fae Tales, you know, it's nice to think there will be some new readers, and there might be like a handful or two, but there will be no massive wave. It is the least popular thing I've written in proportion to the amount of time I've put into it. Even the AUs have all generally done better proportionately.

It's one of the reasons I've never rushed to publish, honestly. It's a lot of work to put into something that you know will never financially justify itself. To the point where I think other projects are far more viable financially (Underline the Rainbow as a series I actually think would be great, because new, meaty omegaverse has a very intense (though small) fanbase and I think that series would bring more people in).

There would be no massive wave of new readers. I think we'd be lucky to see at most about 10 or 20 new folks, and I'll cherish everyone, but I'm also pretty realistic. More people find all my other works these days than Fae Tales, The Ice Plague is still one of the worst performing things I've written in proportion to length + time + work investment (despite being one of my favourite series out of anything I've written).

I think I'm realistic, and I also think there's a chance that the Fae Tales Verse if published could draw some haters. Most people don't want that level of BDSM in their epic fantasy, unless it's much lighter 'romantasy,' which Fae Tales definitely isn't. There's even a chance I might get my KDP author account suspended because of breaching content TOS/violations.

So yeah, it's a risk, but I'll take it. It's just not a risk I'm prioritising right now, because I can't see a way that the Fae Tales Verse will ever really go that far. Hand on heart, way more people who come over from my fanfiction find Falling Falling Stars and Underline and almost no one (with maybe a few exceptions - I love y'all) goes into the canon these days unless they're older / long-time readers.

[two-white-butterflies]

salt water | am. targaryen

Description: Your mother leaves for Dragonstone, leaving you alone in the den of vipers called family. Princess Rhaenyra sends for assassins to murder your son. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen/You!Alyssa Strong Rating: 16+ (angst, child loss, death) Author's Note: If you love this fic, feel free to visit the main fic. This fic contains spoilers for cyip. coaxed you into paradise v2.

You were always drawn to the waves, enjoying the sounds that they made when the water kissed the sand. Aemond reminded you of the waves - and you followed wherever he went.

"Is everything alright?" you inquire, peeking your head through the small crack on the door - seeing a thousand handmaidens, servants and maesters inside the room of your grandfather. You weren't the type to be awakened by a little noise - but your son was, and he was currently crying while his father attempted to soothe him.

"I'm unsure," your husband clears his throat - keeping his hands firm around his baby boy.

"Can you check for me?" you ask, tilting your head in his direction. His hair was tied in a neat bun - eye filled with bags, and his lips settled into a pout. He nodded his head - reaching for your hand and pressing a soft kiss behind your palms. He gently lowers your son, giving the little boy to you.

You move out of the way - providing him enough space to make it through the halls. Aemond bolted to the direction of his father's room, gently shutting the door behind him.

The rays of morning made its way through the room stirring you awake. Your eyes narrowed - seeing an empty spot beside you. It was uncharacteristic for Aemond to leave you alone in the mornings - or for your son to be taken without your permission. You begin to rise from the bed - scratching your eyes and calling for the handmaidens - you were surprised to see all of them changed.

"Where is Cordelia and Tofana?" you question, seeing new faces around you. "It was the Queen's orders to change them, my princess." the handmaiden replied, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Why?" you inquire, but none of them answer - instead, they lead you towards the washroom to help you clean up.

"Where is my husband?" you ask, heart beating carefully in fear that something wrong has happened to him. "We do not know, my princess - but Queen Alicent wishes to see you." the same handmaiden replies while helping you undress for the wash.

A creature of doubt slowly made it's way towards your brain. You were no stranger to war - your father has attended hundreds of them before you were torn into existence. If war was to ever break out - you didn't want to be in this side. You wanted to be beside your muña and kepa.

Queen Alicent was your guardian in the absence of your parents - she was your second mother, providing you with knowledge and advice. You knew that you could trust her - but there was something different about today. The banners that once flashed black and red, were now green and gold. King Viserys and Princess Rhaenyra would never approve of the change, unless something was amiss.

"Alyssa," the Queen smiled, pouring herself a glass of tea. "My Queen," you bowed, making your way beside her. "- have you seen Aemond?" you inquired, searching the room for the familiar face of your husband. "I will be frank with you, dear girl." the Queen took a deep breath, "- The King is dead." she added.

A gasp escapes your mouth - eyes brimming with tears at the realization that Aegon was king. "- and I have sent Aemond to make negotiations with other houses." the Queen replied - anticipating all the emotions that were flowing out of you.

"Do you believe that we'll be on your side?" you spat - she was like a mother to you, but couldn't betray your actual mother in favor of her. "War will not brew, Alyssa. Alliances are being forged," she comforted, placing a hand on your shoulder - but you shove her away. "What will you do to my siblings? Will you kill them? They pose a threat to your very claim," you interrogate - cursing the gods that there wasn't a knife or a dagger near you.

"They will be cupbearers and squires, my dear."

"My mother would rather kill herself than let that happen." you snap, and someone clears their throat from behind the both of you. It was Larys Strong - your uncle, and he had a dark grin on his face. "Queen Alicent, Princess Alyssa." the man curtsied, quickly making his way beside the Queen - and whispering a few strings of words on her ears. You were unable to hear it, but the premise was clear

Prince Lucerys Velaryon is dead.

Alicent's eyes widened, eyes suddenly shaking and spilling drops of the tea that she was holding. "I apologize, Alyssa - if our meeting is cut short." she stood up, motioning for Ser Criston to bring you back to your room. "What is the meaning of this? I refuse to be included in this treason," you wiggle your way out of the knight's grasp but his hold remains firm.

"Ser Criston, I beg of you." you pleaded - his brown eyes softened, "I will bring you to Aelor, but please follow whatever the Queen commands." he whispered, pulling you away from the chambers.

Aelor - your sweet summer son, the child whose face looked exactly like your mother was peacefully playing with his cousins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. There was a smile painted on his face - completely oblivious of the battle that was brewing behind the walls of the castle. "He is safe, my princess - but he will not be, for long." Ser Criston mutters, watching while you placed the boy in your arms.

"What do you mean? Surely they will not harm us, not Aelor." you frown, but the knight shakes his head. "Your husband has murdered Prince Lucerys. Princess Rhaenyra will seek revenge." Criston says, your face contorts into a scowl.

This was all Otto Hightower's fault - Aegon never had the ambition to become king. It was all his grandfather's bidding - in the hopes that he'd be able to rule the realm through his grandson. "What spirit possessed them to supplant the rightful queen?" you asked rhetorically, rocking your son gently. "Queen Alicent says that the king changed his mind - and you were in the very room when he did." Criston explained - hoping that you'd be able to sway the other side.

A frown finds its way into your face.

Your grandsire never said that - unless, Alicent misheard.

It was late at night - the crickets were chirping. Aelor was fast asleep beside you, snoring while a smile painted his lips. Your mind raced through a thousand ways of escape - routes that were too weak to pursue. You needed to make your way to Dragonstone - you couldn't betray your mother.

Your eyelids fluttered gently - sleep was about to come.

Why did it all come down to this? A year of marriage with Aemond - and the perfect castle was crumbling down. Your hands snake around your son, bringing him closer to your chest. An object slams loudly on the floor - prompting you to sit up straight, reaching for the dagger on your nightstand.

"Aemond?" you ask, praying to the gods that it was your husband. You were disappointed at him, but he was better than an intruder. "Princess," a gruff voice replies and a bulky man enters the light.

He was broad and tall, with big arms that could choke you. "Who are you?" you interrogated, pointing the dagger at him. A chuckle escapes his mouth - not thinking of you as a threat. "I'm not here for you, princess." the man replies with a smirk, staring at your son.

"No him," you press your hand protectively around Aelor. "A son for a son." the man stated, and it was your turn to chuckle. A son for a son? Aemond didn't get justice from his loss eye, why should Lucerys? "You will have to go through me, ser." you breathe, trying to remember all the lessons that your kepa taught you.

"That doesn't sound like a problem," his lips settled into a thin line - lunging at you with half of his strength. You moved out of his way, pulling him to the floor and aiming your dagger at his head. He throws it away with ease - pushing you towards the sharp corner of the bed. "How much did she pay you? I'll double it," you swore, feeling his hand slap your face loudly.

He stands up - not wanting to hurt you.

You attempt to stand up - but he silences you with a slap on the face. One of his men began to hold you back, pulling you to the other side of the room while he made his way on top of the bed. He stared at your son for a second - and you hoped that his conscience would not let him hurt a little boy. "No, please - I beg of you." you cried, fighting through the other man's chiseled arms.

"Anything - all the jewels in the earth, I will give it to you." you yelled loudly, but none of the guards were able to hear your cries.

The man ignores you raising his dagger at the babe. The tears began to flow out of your eyes - incoherent yells spilling from your mouth. Valyrian whispers and prayers that fall into deaf ears.

His dagger plunges into your sweet son's belly, ceasing his existence before you could do anything else.

The man lets you go - seeing that you didn't have enough power to fight. You collapse into the floor, crawling towards your son who was bleeding. There was a white sheet on top of his body - blood seeping through. The criminals made their escape - jumping out of the window before your husband could make his way towards your room.

"This was all your doing," you sob - still holding Aelor's body close to your chest. Light was beginning to make its way towards your room, but you were in no mood to get ready. "Isa," Aemond whispers - making his way beside you, and staring at his son's bleeding corpse. "They were sweet - Aelor and Lucerys, they have done nothing and you've killed them." you accuse - eyes swollen with tears.

Aelor's hands will no longer wrap around your fingers. His hands would no longer reach for your silver hair, and a smile would no longer paint his lips. "I'm sorry," he cried, doomed by the narrative.

He did not intend for any of these to happen. He did not intend to murder his nephew, or cause the death of his son. "Henujagon nyke, (leave me)" you whispered in a hoarse voice.

(change pov)

It's been weeks since Aemond has seen you, not even your shadow could be seen in the red keep. Reports tell him that you're seen walking down the shore barefoot - crying and screaming. He attempted to talk to you - but he was send away by his mother. You weren't the only one mourning Aelor's death. He hasn't been able to sleep at night too - cursing himself and wanting death.

What use was life without the warmth of a newborn? or the laughter of the one that he loves the most.

His hands settle on his thighs, wiping the tears away from his eyes. A knock on the door breaks him free from his torment.

A handmaiden keeps her head on the floor.

Princess Alyssa is dead.

'Her body was not found, but her mother's Valyrian necklace was settled on the sand - her former handmaidens, Cordelia and Tofana were there. She drowned herself to death, they say.'

Aemond makes his way through the waters.

It's been a month since he's seen his wife, and his guards tell him that her body has washed through shore.

A sob escapes his mouth, seeing that her pocket held a piece of parchment, with only one sentence in it: Nyke shijetra ao.

Aemond was longer the waves - you were, and you went somewhere that he couldn't follow.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

You are the only ones that know that this is going to happen. It's also a warning that no one is safe mwahahahahahaha.

taglist: @watercolorskyy @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @sweethoneyblossom1 @issybee0611 @tato0od @delaynew@thisbihreadstoomuch @plutoscosmoss @immyowndefender @marvelescvpe @batmans-love @luanasrta @tesha-i-guess @valeridarkness

[sjsmith56]

Moving Day - A Private Man, Chapter 10

Summary: Bucky and Sam offer to help Tracey move in but her neighbour interferes with the move, necessitating police intervention.

Length: 4.6 K

Characters: Bucky, Tracey, Sam, Walter (creepy neighbour), Rebecca, Amina.

Warnings: Creepy neighbour, evidence of stalking.

Author notes: This chapter explores Bucky’s attempts to stay calm in the face of an attempted assault on Tracey. Not only does he have to do it for her, he has to maintain the peace to avoid negative attention on himself, a constant battle. Divider by vecteezy.com

<<Chapter 9

There was a bit of a breeze in the late August air as Bucky went out for the newspaper.  His eye was taken by a cigarette stub on the sidewalk a few feet away and he grimaced slightly.  That man was still around, still watching the house and him.  At least his stealth skills were better although his littering skills weren't.  He came back inside only this time Sam was awake, sitting up on the couch, blinking his eyes sleepily.

"Sorry," said Bucky.  "Just went for the paper.  Go back to sleep.  It's a couple of hours before we can pick up the truck."

"No, I'm awake," replied his friend.  "Wouldn't mind a coffee."

Bucky poured one for Sam, placing it on the table in the kitchen as he poured one for himself.  The two friends sat there sipping quietly, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Tracey is a lovely woman," said Sam.  "I think she's exactly what you were looking for."

"Yeah, she is.  We're so in tune with each other it's uncanny.  I keep waiting for something to pull us apart."  He grimaced slightly.  "You know me, the pessimist comes out when things are going good."

"You two have the real thing," said Sam comfortingly.  "I'm sure she'll stick with you through thick and thin."  He took another sip of coffee.  "You thinking of making it permanent someday?"

"We've talked about it."  Bucky's face was tinged pink.  "Rebecca had our mother's engagement ring.  I got it assessed and cleaned up."

"I hope it happens, really," said Sam then he sighed.  "I didn't want to say anything last night but I did go to Madripoor.  Clint came with me.  He was there during the Blip when he was on his vengeance thing so he knows it well.  Didn't find Sharon but before we left someone dropped off some pictures of CIA Director Fontaine arriving in Madripoor in a private jet before you and I ever set foot in that place.  That was before she was named director."

Bucky looked at Sam with surprise.  "Does my lawyer know?"

Sam nodded.  "I dropped copies off with him yesterday before I got here.  Rhodes has the originals in a safe place.  Have there been any more problems?"

"Rebecca's ramp is still being held up.  Should have been installed weeks ago.  There's also been a guy watching the place.  Smokes Japanese cigarettes, leaves the butts on the sidewalk.  Saw one out there this morning.  Still no settlement for me, but I never did have much hope of that happening."

Sam shook his head in sympathy.  "It's all so cloak and dagger and for what?"

"They want to be in the shadows," replied Bucky.  "No oversight, no scrutiny, no one telling them they're hypocrites for insisting the Avengers sign on to the Accords but they get an exemption."

"Someone sounds cynical this morning," said a female voice as Tracey came out the bedroom door in her robe.

Bucky extended his arm and she came to his side, allowing him to encircle her.  She bent over and kissed him on the lips.

"I'm with him on this one," said Sam, "and I'm not a cynical person.  They're up to no good."

"Was there another cigarette out there this morning?" she asked Bucky.  He looked up at her surprised.  "I've noticed them.  Our neighbours smoke in their yard and these are always stubbed out on the same spot on the sidewalk, just beyond the property line where they can see the house but you can't see them unless you leave the house."

Bucky smiled.  "I'm going to have be more careful around you if I ever get you a secret present.  You're sneakier than you look."

Tracey smiled and kissed Bucky again as Sam watched.  He really did like Tracey.  Her quiet nature was exactly what Bucky needed and she seemed to have a good understanding of PTSD, anxiety disorder and whatever other personality issues Bucky suffered from on occasion.  Being a nurse probably helped.  So did being very attractive.

"I'm going to have my shower," she said, rubbing Bucky's shoulder.  "I won't be long then I'll make us all breakfast."

Both men watched as she walked down to the hallway.  After she closed the bathroom door Bucky looked at Sam and smiled.  "I'm a lucky man."

They shared the newspaper while they drank their coffee.  By the time Tracey was done Rebecca was awake and Bucky went into the bedroom to carry her into the bathroom.  Tracey returned from dressing to help Rebecca shower then wrapped her up in a terry towel robe so she could walk to the bedroom with her walker, an exercise recommended by the physiotherapist.  Bucky began preparing breakfast then Rebecca came out of her room, walking, followed by Tracey who helped Bucky with breakfast.  They kissed again at the stove and Rebecca smiled at them.

"They have it down to a system, Sam," she said.  "They know what the other has to do and it's like a dance between them."

Tracey chuckled.  "She makes it sound complicated but it's just doing what comes next."

"I just like seeing the two of you together," said Sam.  "You bring out the best in Bucky.  He's a good man and with you it shows.  Rebecca, what will you be doing while we move Tracey in today?"

"Amina is coming for me," she said brightly.  "There's an information fair at the newcomer centre.  I'm a volunteer for it."

"No kidding?" exclaimed Sam.  "That's amazing.  What are your duties?"

"Helping to promote their volunteer program for senior outreach and care," said Rebecca proudly.  "I'm their poster girl for the good things that newcomers can offer to the community.  They even took my picture and are making a promotion from it.  It was Samira's idea.  I cherish the day Tracey got in touch with them.  So many have become dear friends."

Bucky and Tracey both looked fondly at Rebecca, knowing it was also her engaging personality that endeared her to the newcomers.  Her accepting attitude and calm frankness had benefitted everyone as she shared her life experiences with the individuals who cared for her.  It helped immensely with their own adjustment into American society.  Bucky knew that she also helped the three women who looked after her to improve their English as Amina had informed him of how much she had learned from his sister.  It's why he offered his time as well; knowing so many different languages allowed him to help several newcomer men overcome difficulties in their transitions.  He was able to assist several in applying for work, an important step in their own emotional wellbeing to be able to provide for their families. 

While the couple finished making breakfast Sam and Rebecca set the table, laughing and teasing each other gently.  Sam hovered over the older woman as she transferred from her walker to a chair.  She waved him away with an exaggerated pout.

"I'm fully capable of stepping from my walker to the chair, Sam Wilson," she declared.  "You're such a mother hen for a man."

"Just making sure that my favourite girl is seated properly.  What kind of gentleman would I be if you fell on my watch?"

"Bucky, tell him how strong I am now," said Rebecca.

"She is stronger," said Bucky.  "I had to buy a set of hand weights for her.  She was using cans of food and needed something heavier.  She's lifting a five pound weight in each hand now, doing bicep and tricep curls as part of her physiotherapy."

"We have those big elastic bands as well," she said proudly.  "I do my leg exercises with those.  I'm strong enough to get down the stairs at the front door and then my ladies can take me for a walk around the neighbourhood in the wheelchair.  We've been thinking of me using the walker on my walks as well, get used to going over bumps on the sidewalk."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Sam.  "Maybe someday you'll actually be strong enough to visit one of the blues clubs with me.  Now that Bucky is working days maybe he can come out with us as well."

"I'd like that, too," piped up Tracey.  "I've never been.  How about next time you're here we plan to do that?"

Bucky pretended to scowl but he actually liked the idea, especially if Tracey was on his arm.  They had experienced several date nights in the back yard but he was feeling more confident out in public and wanted to treat her to a real night out.  Once she was moved in it would be easier.  He pulled Tracey's chair out for her as they brought the food to the table.  Then they all served themselves and enjoyed breakfast immensely.  Just before they were finished Amina was at the door to pick up Rebecca.  She came in with Kafeel who smiled broadly when he saw Sam.

"Captain, you're here!  Are you coming to the newcomer centre again?"

"Well ...." Sam looked at Bucky who shrugged.  "We're moving Tracey into the house.  If we get done early enough I might be able to drop by, in the suit.  That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Please?" pleaded the boy.  "Mr. Bucky is there often but we've only seen you once."

Sam assured him he would make time to come over, even if it was just a quick visit.  The boy's eyes sparkled at the commitment.  Bucky carried Rebecca out to Amina's car, while Amina took her wheelchair. He kissed her goodbye, wishing her a fun day then watched as the car disappeared in the distance. When he returned to the house Sam was putting the dishes away in the dishwasher.

"Tracey is removing the bedding from your room so we can move the bedroom furniture down to the basement," said Sam.  "It will be nice to sleep in a bed down there as a guest instead of the couch."

"Once we get her moved in I'm going to submit plans to build an actual bedroom and bathroom down there," said Bucky.  "There's room and it will add to the value of the house.  There's a few guys at the dock who have done it and said they would help.  Jack from the garden centre knows some electricians and a plumber.  They'll help me with the plans."

Sam smiled broadly.  "Look at you making more friends.  I'm happy to see it."

"I realized part of my problem with people was I kept myself isolated too much, afraid they would judge me, I guess," replied Bucky.  "Instead, I found most of them were curious about me and my experiences.  They've all been pretty understanding."

It didn't take them long to move all of that bedroom furniture down and set it up while Tracey vacuumed Bucky's room to prepare it to receive her bedroom furniture.  When they were done, and she had placed the bedding in the washer she drove them to the truck rental outlet to pick up the moving truck.  She went on ahead to her apartment to get the key to the elevator from the building supervisor.  It would allow them to keep the door open so they could load up the elevator with furniture without it being used by tenants.  When Tracey got up to her floor, she unlocked her apartment and heard her neighbour, Walter, open his door.

"Hey, moving day, today?" said Walter.  "Do you need some help?"

"No, thanks Walter," said Tracey, politely.  "Bucky and Sam will be here with the truck any moment.  I'm just getting ready for them."

The thin blond man nodded his head self-consciously.  "I'm ... I'm sorry to see you move.  I always thought we had a connection, you know?"

Tracey sighed, dreading this moment.  "You were a friend, Walter, a good friend I thought.  I appreciated you feeding Alley Cat and watching my place while I was in Belize."

"You never even gave me a chance to be more," he frowned.  "I deserved that much, didn't I?"  She didn't answer and he stepped forward, making her back up into her apartment.  "You shouldn't be afraid of me."

She tried to close and lock the door but Walter pushed into it and came towards her with his hands open. With a sickening feeling Tracey saw the door close behind him. He turned and locked the deadbolt.  "Walter, please," said Tracey as she looked for something to defend herself with.  The buzzer for the building entry went off and she tried to let Bucky in but Walter pushed her away from the controls.  "Walter, please stop.  I don't want you to get hurt."

"Me get hurt?" he sputtered as her cell phone rang several times.  "That's all you've done is hurt me, ignore me, treat me like I don't matter.  Then you fall for that ... killer.  I bet you let him fuck you, like the whore you are."

Tracey shook her head at finally seeing the true nature of her neighbour.  "You're an incel," she said with disgust.  "You're as bad as my ex-husband, just seeing what you want to see."

"I see a woman I worshipped treating me like shit," said Walter, his face becoming ugly.  "I would have been so good to you, giving you lots of babies, taking care of you, making sure you never had to work."

"Is that what you think women want, Walter?" asked Tracey, hearing a sound at the apartment door and trying to distract him from noticing.  "You think we want to be kept captive in our homes, always pregnant, having a man control us?"

Before Walter could say anything more a dark shape quickly came through the door from the hallway and an arm circled Walter's shoulder pulling him away from Tracey.

"I wouldn't say anything more, Walter," said Bucky, calmly but firmly holding the man from behind. 

Sam entered from the hallway and stood in front of the man then looked back at Tracey.  "We buzzed the building supervisor when you didn't answer the door buzzer or your phone.  He gave us the master key to get in.  Said he had been getting bad vibes from this guy ever since you gave your notice.  Police are on the way if you want to lay charges for unlawful confinement."

Walter began to whine as Bucky pulled him back into the hallway.  "I wouldn't have hurt you, Tracey.  I love you.  I worship you."

Only when Walter was out of her sight did Tracey let loose and begin to cry.  Sam put his arms around her and held her, stroking her back.  "Buck will hold him until the police get here.  The building supervisor said he made several uncomfortable comments about you.  That should interest the police."

"How did I never see it before?" she asked.  "I just thought he was awkward.  Then when he cornered me in here he began saying terrible things about me and Bucky.  That's when I realized ....  Thank God, you two were here."

They could hear the police out in the hallway and the sound of handcuffs being placed on Walter's wrists as his whines grew into shouts, begging her not to do this, not to turn her back on him.  The police must have taken Walter back into his suite as Bucky came to the door and took Tracey in his arms.  He looked at Sam and nodded knowingly.

"I saw inside his apartment," he said quietly to his friend.  "He had a shrine, was obsessed with her.  They'll be taking him for a psychiatric assessment.  One of the officers will come see her first, to swear out the official charges."  Softly he spoke to her as he caressed her hair.  "It's okay, baby.  You're alright.  You did good.  I could hear what you were saying to him and you gave me the time to get in here."

Quietly she wept and Bucky just kept whispering to her, while Sam watched sympathetically.  A knock at the open door brought an officer in to take Tracey's statement and she told him everything Walter said to her. 

"Can I see it, his shrine?" she asked.

The officer looked at Bucky and Sam, then at her and shook his head.  "I don't think that's wise.  We'll have a crew in to fully document it before they take it down.  To be honest, I'm surprised he didn't try anything before today.  It appears he may have installed cameras here in your apartment to watch you."

That set her off on another round of crying which he apologized for.  He looked at Bucky.  "You and Miss Harris weren't intimate here?"

"No, she always came over to my house," he replied.  "I've only been here a couple of times and we never ...."

"Well, it's pretty clear he has major issues which will require a psychiatric assessment.  Unfortunately, we'll need to get a crew in here to find the evidence of the cameras he installed.  I know you were here to move Miss Harris out but that will have to be put on hold while we search for evidence.  Just for a few days."

"Can I take my clothes at least?" she asked plaintively. 

The officer took a big breath.  "Let me make a call and see if we can get a forensics crew in to start there, with your closet so that you can at least have clothes to wear.  Anything else you would like to take with you?"

"Jewelry, toiletries, makeup," she answered.  "Although we were moving my bedroom suite over as it's bigger than Bucky's."

"Okay, let me see what I can arrange," he replied and he left to radio in.

The three of them sat on her living room couch, her and Bucky holding hands, waiting to see if this day would be a total bust.   Twenty minutes later the officer returned.

"A crew is on the way and they'll start on the bedroom," he said.  "If you have the moving boxes for your clothes they'll even load them for you, once they examine them to make sure he hasn't hidden anything harmful in them.  They'll try to get the bedroom suite done so you can take that back with you.  You just won't be able to be here while they're doing it.  If you give me a contact phone number they'll call when they've cleared the bedroom and the bathroom.  It's possible they could finish it tonight.  Walter's place will take longer but he'll be in custody for some time."

Bucky stood up and shook the officer's hand.  "Thank you for doing what you could," he said.  "It's been a tough day for Tracey."

"I appreciate your team coming in early," she said, trying to smile as the police officer nodded his head and returned to Walter's suite.

"Well, I guess we could always go over to the newcomer centre," said Sam.  "Looks like some time has opened up in my schedule.  Kafeel will be happy."

"We have the truck for the weekend," said Bucky.  "Perhaps the cameras will be found quickly and we can get some more help from the newcomer centre to move everything."

After returning the elevator and master key to the building supervisor, who promised to let the forensics team into Tracey's unit they drove both vehicles back to the house.  Sam geared up and took off while they took his travelling case and a change of clothes for him with them to the newcomer centre.  There were many cries of hello when the couple entered the hall, which was set up with multiple displays of all the services offered by the center.  When they finally arrived at the display for services to seniors Rebecca looked at them in surprise then she noticed that Tracey looked shaken.

"What's happened?" she asked, patting the chair next to her for Tracey to sit.

"My neighbour," began Tracey, then she choked up and buried her face in Rebecca's shoulder. 

The older woman looked up at Bucky for an explanation as she put her arm around the younger woman.  "Tracey arrived at the apartment before us and her neighbour cornered her, wouldn't let her leave or answer the door.  Turns out he's been obsessed with her for some time, may have even planted cameras in her apartment to keep her under surveillance.  The police have to find them first for evidence.  Until they do we can't move her things out.  They're trying to get it done today but they can't promise anything." 

"That's terrible," said Amina, placing her hand in Tracey's.  "I'm sure my husband and brother-in-law would help you move if they can.  Where is Mr. Sam?"

"He's on his way," smiled Bucky.  "Are the kids outside?"

Amina nodded then told Bucky to tell the organizers that Captain America would be making an appearance soon and they would announce it so everyone could go outside to see him.  He went off to find them while Rebecca and Amina comforted Tracey.  When the announcement was made Bucky wasn't surprised to see several of the women stay behind with Tracey.  He came close but Rebecca looked up at her brother.

"It's okay, we've got her," she smiled.  "There are some things that all women understand.  Go outside and be there for the kids and the others."

Self-consciously he smiled and backed away, knowing that Rebecca and the others could offer Tracey support that she needed.  Out behind the centre they watched Sam fly near and do more aerobatics in his flying suit for several minutes before landing gracefully in the middle of everyone.  Kafeel came up with his soccer ball and grinned at the winged super hero.

"How was that?" asked Sam.

"Perfect," replied the boy.  "Do you think someday I could be Captain America?"

"I don't see why not," replied Sam.  "Just because you were born in Sudan doesn't mean you can't choose to be American.  As long as you uphold all the good things that the country stands for you can be just about anything."

Kafeel's face beamed.  As Sam posed for selfies with people who had watched his display Irshad appeared at Bucky's side along with his brother Farid.  Bucky shook hands with both men.

"My wife says you may need our assistance to move Miss Harris's belongings from her apartment," he said.  "The man who violated her privacy, he has been charged?"

"Yes, he will be," said Bucky, then he shook his head.  "It's upset her greatly as she never gave him any encouragement or indication that she was interested in him."

"Some people do not respect boundaries," said Irshad.  "It has happened in our culture as well.  The sooner she is out of that place the better but you must keep an eye on her, support her, be kind to her.  You will marry her soon?"

Bucky looked at him, surprised.  "I wish to marry her, yes," he said.  "When the time is right."

Irshad nodded.  "Good, she is a good woman, a kind woman," he said.  "Many here speak well of her.  Her willingness to include many of us as valued members of the community has been noted.  Helping her move is the least we can do to repay her."

Bucky and Sam stayed for the rest of day, mingling with the visitors to the center until it was time to shut things down.  They helped fold up the tables and stacked chairs, putting them back into the storage rooms.  As they finished Bucky checked his phone but didn't find any messages from the police.  Tracey had nothing on her phone either and they prepared to leave for the house.  Rebecca was ready for a nap so Sam said he would stay in the house while she slept, answering some emails on his phone.  Bucky accompanied Tracey to a department store to buy some things for her to wear, in case her clothes were not released.  As they pulled into the parking lot Bucky's phone rang, with the call display indicating was the police officer from the apartment.  As soon as he answered it the officer asked him to take it off speaker and Bucky spoke with him, his face getting darker and darker in temperament.  When he hung up he looked straight ahead for a moment, his jaw set firmly.  Tracey noticed he was swallowing as if he was trying to find the best way to tell her something.

"Bucky," she said finally, "just spit it out.  It can't be any worse than finding out your creepy neighbour has been watching you through hidden cameras."

"Yeah, it is," he said quietly, then he took her hand in his.  "A preliminary examination of your clothing has found ejaculate residue on several articles of clothing, mostly your under garments so far.  He was masturbating and coming on your things then rinsing them off before drying them, with your blow dryer, they think.  They have to examine every piece of clothing you own.  The guy was a real sick bastard."

Tears welled up in Tracey's eyes as he gazed at her.  Holding his arms out she slid over the console and sat in his lap in the front seat of the car, bawling her eyes out.  They sat like that for some time while he held her, rubbing her back and arms.  Without comment he listened to her alternate between crying and ranting about the gross invasion of her privacy. 

"I'm not moving this weekend, am I?" she finally asked. 

"Your things aren't moving," clarified Bucky, kissing her on the side of her head.  "But you are definitely moving in.  We'll buy you several days worth of clothing.  Officer Jackson said those pieces of clothing that have been identified with his biological evidence will be kept but they will release the others as they clear them.  Sam and I will move my furniture back into the bedroom and when they've finished processing your apartment I already have volunteers willing to help move your things in.  It will get done, just not this weekend.  You don't have to go back to the apartment, ever."

Tracey gave out a big sigh then smiled at him.  "Thank you for just letting me work it out.  I was upset, and afraid that you would do something physical to him."

"I'll admit the thought crossed my mind," replied Bucky.  "But I care about you too much to add to your distress.  Right now, I just want to see to the practical side of things, get you set up to have enough clothing and toiletries to have for the week.  I'm always here for you, always."

He rubbed his thumb along her jaw line then kissed her softly.  A short time later they shopped together for underwear, clothing, and toiletries for Tracey.  She found herself feeling better about the decision to move in with Bucky, realizing what a caring man he was, even more than she had witnessed already.  A text message from Sam said that supper was well under way courtesy of him and Rebecca, if they could just pick up some beer and wine on the way home.  By the time they arrived Tracey felt much better about her life. 

The following weekend several men from the dock and the newcomer centre helped Bucky move her furniture to the house.  As an apology, the building supervisor gave her a gift certificate to go out for dinner at a nice restaurant, feeling guilty about not sharing his suspicions about Walter with her.  Her former neighbour was committed to psychiatric custody for some time before all the charges were officially laid.  When he did come to trial Tracey knew there would be a core of supportive people with her in body and spirit, with Bucky leading the way.

Chapter 11>>

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