#daughters of red peony | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jacespookiebear · 2 years ago

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ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 6

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, sexual content, age gap (reader is about 2-3 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

Alicent paced across the celebration hall with such eagerness. Organizing many celebrations to be held in the future. Such as your return to King’s Landing— but you weren’t returning for her. You were only returning to celebrate your betrothed’s nameday along arriving with the rest of your family. Usually, she wouldn’t give a damn to make preparations but you were also to be married under the same week as your future husband’s nameday. Alicent wanted it all to be set perfectly, just for you.

“That is not right! I had ask for lilac orchids. If you cannot fulfill your duties, I shall have you removed at once!” Alicent bitterly shouted to the tradesmen, feeling disappointed and stressed to see they had brought white peonies— flowers she clearly did not request.

Talya, The Queen’s handmaiden, arrived quietly in the hall to give her the urgent news she had just received. “My Queen, they have arrived.” Talya muttered closely to Alicent’s ear. Immediately she had stopped ordering the servants and turned her attention to her handmaiden.

“Already!?” She gasped, “I had thought they would arrive on the morrow.” Talya shook her head and within minutes, Alicent left the hall to greet the family. To greet you, specifically.

To her surprise, you all have already been greeted by the King. Although it has only been two years, he was weakening day by day, though still being able to stand on his own.

“My sweet daughters,” the King welcomes you and Rhaenyra in his remaining arm. “I have missed you both.” Alicent watched as tears streamed down your cheeks, smiling towards your father with happiness. She felt immense nostalgia from the way you dressed— you certainly did look the part as the Realm’s Beauty, wearing a dark blue velvety dress with sleeves falling off your shoulders and separate straps connecting from your dress wrapped around your neck. In her early years, she had also wore the proud colors of her husband’s house, but had only done so to appease others around her. But, she couldn’t help to feel that you only done it solely for yourself and to prove you would always state your loyalty to Jacaerys.

“It is a lovely sight to see you all back in King’s Landing,” Alicent interrupted the sweet moment and took the time to hug you. Seconds had passed, you had placed your arms around her. Alicent breathed in your existence, she missed you dearly and now you’re here, at last, just like you said you would.

She desperately wanted whatever had happened between you both two years ago to be pushed away and forget it had ever existed. She wanted you both to savor the relationship, with Rhaenyra— she couldn’t help but feel that your elder sister had probably put a seed in your mind to look at your step-mother differently.

I have missed you, my dearest, that was all Alicent thought about. Finally having you in her arms, where you truly belong.

After what felt like hours, she let go of you and cupped your face to look at you, warmly. Though, you gave her a friendly smile, you pulled away and remained standing right by Lysanna and Daemon’s side, whom looked smug right after you done so. “Forgive the King and I, we had thought you would be arriving later. If I had know you would have arrived much more early, I would have properly prepared the Red Keep.” Alicent maintained a calm composer, ignoring the sly glares that were being given from Rhaenyra and your betrothed. She had motioned for them all to head inside, the Red Keep was still being renovated, she had made sure to have some of her faith hung across the halls.

“You must rest,” she suggested, “we have much to celebrate. But tonight, we shall have a feast to celebrate upon your arrival.” The King nodding happily at the thought. He ordered the knights to lead you all to your temporary chambers.

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“She certainly was happy to see you,” you spoke to Lysanna as you unpacked from your luggages, placing gowns and capes back into your old drawers. “I could’ve sworn I saw a tear streaming down her cheek when you told her you missed her.”

Lysanna scoffed and let out a laugh as well. “She is my cousin, afterall.” that you can agree to, your step-mother was family whether you want to disagree or not. Even if she held dislike towards your sister, she held adoration for you and Lysanna.

“If only we could be in the North as we are speaking,” you spoke up, Lysanna turned to you, “your brother is lucky to live far away from the South..”

Before Lysanna could have answer back, your chamber doors were knocked and opened without even announcing themselves. You saw your youngest brother, Daeron, who was smiling ear to ear to see you. The scowl you wore for being interrupted immediately replaced with a bright smile and you ran to leap into your brother’s arms.

“Daeron!”

“Sister!”

Your brother wrapped his arms around you tightly, afraid to let go. You had not seen your brother since he was about nine, went off to be the squire of the Lord Hightower in Oldtown. You had only heard from him whenever he written to his mother, he became very strong with the sword and had the chance to bond with a dragon, Tessarion, before he left. He was always gentle and caring, more sweeter than his other brothers but still held no liking to your elder sister and her family.

“I had him return to King’s Landing to attend your wedding,” Alicent spoke, with her hands clasped, she was arrived in your chambers behind Daeron, whom was only ten-and-third but still loomed over you and your step-mother. He was getting much taller. “I wanted the whole family to be here to watch you marry under the seven.”

Oh. You felt yourself clench your hand in anger from what she had said. You wanted to scream and yell at her face. It is my marriage, not yours!

“It seems we need to discuss more of my wedding.” you coldly stated, bringing your attention on Daeron once more who continued to smile. He had no clue on your underlying bitterness towards Alicent.

“I have missed you, dear brother.” Both of you beaming with happiness to finally be reunited with one another. With swiftness, you brought Daeron towards Lysanna, “I shall speak with the Queen, you must catch up with your relative, it has been quite a long time since you both had seen each other as well.” Lysanna quickly hugged Daeron with tight grip, the two were always so rough with each other when they were younger.

“It is good to see you, cousin!” Lysanna happily chirped. You excused them to find Helaena as you stayed behind with your step-mother.

“My dearest-“

“I want all of us to meet. Now.” you resisted her touches and walked out to find Rhaenyra and Daemon. Your father was already ill but still insisted to attend the continued preparations. As you arrived in their chambers, you apologized to interrupt their resting, considering Rhaenyra is heavily pregnant but she was quick to come to your rescue, they were both very serious about your worries and did not hesitate.

You all sat in the council room, you were sitting with Rhaenyra and Daemon across from Alicent with the King sitting in his seat that was always placed in the middle end of the table. You had not planned to have Jace attend— noting he wouldn’t have arrived anyways but in moments, you were surprised when he barged in the room,

“Excuse my tardiness,” Jace announced and sat next to you, happy to see that he arrived even without being called to attend. “I had not been told to attend but I will make the effort for my betrothed.”

Alicent grimaced when he called you his betrothed but none the less, she cleared her throat and joined her hands together to begin the meeting.

You leaned to whisper in Jace’s ear, “how did you know we were meeting?”

“I’m here now. That’s all that matters.” Jace answered. You didn’t mind his explanation, his existence already reassured your feelings and helped you relax a little.

“I believe I have said this before. I shall have it repeated. They will be married under the Seven,” your step-mother stated, her joined hands planted on the table. She clearly wanted no negotiation on how your wedding would be customized.

Rhaenyra sighed, Daemon let out a scoff at her audacity, “This is a Targaryen marriage, let you be reminded, my Queen. My sister is not a believer of the Seven, she puts her faith in the Valyrian Gods.”

Alicent did not budge, relaxing into her seat a little, “My eldest daughter deserve a wedding that will have many witnesses. Her siblings were married under the faith as well. She should not have to hide in Dragonstone to wed and I have not yet accepted her marrying Jacaerys-“

“My niece does not share blood with you, let it be known once more,” Daemon seethed, his words dripping with venom, “You did not birth her, the Late Queen Aemma whom suffered long hours in labor, only to be cut open like a helpless pig. She would have wanted her daughter to have this.” That immediately shut your step-mother up. You saw how she took a big gulp after being reminded that you were not her trueborn daughter. But not only those words reached over to Alicent, it put you, Rhaenyra, and Viserys in a emotional and awkward state. You brought your hand over to your face to avoid any quivering to be seen from the mention of how your mother died.

Alicent cleared her throat— trying to recover from the sadden reality check she was given by Daemon. “I suppose it is only right for the King to make the decision…” your father slightly lit up at how Alicent let him have the right to make the decision for you all. He turned to make eye contact with you and saw how visibly upset you looked.

You were surprised on how she gave in so easily. Your step-mother had only been insufferable about your wedding for years before she gave it up to have your father finally have a choice in the matter. “If my daughter wishes for an Old Valyrian wedding then I don’t see why not.” Viserys calmly stated, coughing into his handkerchief once more. At his words, your spirits were lifted and smiled at your father. But your step-mother did not seem to be too happy, her frown was noticed from you and your sister.

Rhaenyra seeming to not be so pleased of your step-mother being upset, “I am sure we can come to some sort of agreement,” your sister offered, turning to you for your approval and you let her continue to hear what she had to say, “It would not be official but we can have another wedding under the seven— no one should be allowed to attend except our family, of course. I will only propose it if my son and sister is willing to allow it.”

It did not make you upset at the proposal but having to negotiation on your own wedding did. But from the delighted smile on your step-mother’s face from the offer, you couldn’t help but nod your head once more to agree, as you gave your answer, you felt angry at yourself for letting your step-mother have her way like always. But yet, she just looked so happy as well as your father who seemed delighted to hear you and your sister wanted to consider Alicent’s feelings even with what happened two years ago, but Daemon and Jace seemed to not be so onboard with the idea.

Your step-mother looked surprised, a grateful smile danced on her face, “I am grateful for your proposal. Thank you, Princess.” she graciously thanked and Rhaenyra gave a slight smile.

“A sweet proposition!” Viserys praised.

Jacaerys looked helpless, he’d never been reduced to a simple watcher before. You wanted to comfort him while your father began speaking about Jace’s wedding robes and which colors he should wear. It was his wedding as well and yet no one had asked him what he wanted.

“I’ll accompany the Princess on her fitting with the Seamstress.”

“My grandson should have the robes that I wore in my wedding.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t fit him, brother.”

“I shall have my cousin, Lord Stark, to prepare Winterfell for the newlyweds quickly.”

“Will he be attending my grandson’s nameday?”

At last, they all seemed to be in a agreement with each other. It all left a neutral look on everyone’s face besides Jace. He did not look happy like everyone else. Even if he wished to speak up on his wishes for his weddings, he did not know what to say. He did not like how you or his mother had negotiated or how they continue to let the woman who used her position and power to ruin his family’s lives, to say he was angry was an understatement.

As you pardoned yourself and head to your chambers to retire, he followed you with the intention of talking with you.

You turned, continuing to walk, “You should be heading to your chambers. Are you alright?” As you finished speaking, you arrived in your chambers and allowed him to come in. You only expected him to wish you well night rest.

“You’re allowing her to have what she wants. Once again.”

You whipped your head around quickly from his words. Jace looked back with annoyance as you looked with confusion. You both seemed to be feeling alright in the council, now you felt that there was tension between you both.

“If you disagreed with the idea then you should have said your piece,” you reminded Jace, he scoffed in return. “you had only disregarded this wedding many times and now you seem to care?!”

He sighed, “Of course I had cared! I wanted you— only you to prepare our wedding. You had the chance to finally have full control of,” his words made you bite your lip, he was right. “That woman had humiliated us for years..you are letting her remain in power even in our marriage!”

You turned, facing him completely, you stepped closer to him, face now only inches apart, “What else can I do, Jacaerys?! She is close that I have to a mother. Let it be reminded that she is still the Queen.”

“Not only days ago, you held distaste for her!” He shouted, “You do not defend yourself, me, or our family when it comes to her.”

You resisted the urge to slap him, “I had done so much for us! This wedding..I thought this is what you wanted!”

For a moment, Jace was taken aback from what you had said. Utterly shocked was his emotions.

“I wanted nothing but your love.”

Your face softened from his words. Within moments, his arms sneak around your waist and hold you affectionately. “For years, Ñuha hūra qēlossās, I yearned for your love and now I was given the chance by the Old Gods to relish in it.” The memory of younger Jace wishing to confess to you in the future was running in your mind, remembering his words: “I will tell you when I am of age, so please wait until then.” Hot tears finally streaming down your face from his words. He gently wiped them off your cheeks, “You and I were meant to burn together.”

You sobbed, stepping away from him, it wounded him deeply once you left his arms but you had no choice. “Please do speak no more..” creating space between you both, it felt wrong to be apart from each other this long.

His face fell and the sight made you want to bury yourself alive for the way you were beginners to hurt him, wounding his heart all because you were not sure. “You share the same feelings as do I, do you not?”

The silence from you was furthering his heart to shatter, to break into two. The heart that belonged to you and only you. Why were you not saying anything?

“Please, my love,” Jace begged, closing the space between you both, holding onto your hands so desperately— almost falling to his knees, “please tell me that you feel the same.”

Jace’s mind was racing. He had always thought you shared love for him as well. Why else would you spur his name towards the Queen on a suitor, or how you would always call him your sun, or how you would allow him to show his affections nearly everywhere, and even when Meraxes allowed Vermax to show his love for her so loudly around Dragonstone that it became clear to Jace that they were the sign of your love for one another. Was he wrong? This whole time, he was wrong?

“Does it not bother you?” you finally asked him, “I had helped raise you..”

Is that why you are in such denial of your feelings towards Jace? No matter how much you might love him, you would still see him as the young boy you had watched over all your life and called him your nephew. But he will no longer be your sweet nephew after four days.

Your words appear to sting Jace and wound him so deeply, from the betrayed look on his face. What was the difference? His mother married her uncle, they’re happily together and inlove.

“Does it really matter?”

“Of course it matters!”

From the tone of your voice, he nodded, only bringing you closer to him. For a moment you had tried to lean away but failed once he placed his hands on your cheeks, continued to wipe your tears away. “Not once have I ever been ashamed of my love for you.”

His touch was a touch you had yearned for years. The gentleness and sweetness that it came with was reassuring, you were not used to it. From what you were used to was harsh and rough, usually received by your brother, Aegon, whom never held any sort of respect towards you but viewed you as his potential maiden he can abuse whenever he wanted. Everything you wanted in a man was standing right in front of you and yet you pulled away.

Why were you so afraid? This is what you had always wanted right? To be married to the right man and to have sweet children who will turn out right. To be married by your choice and not by duty.

“We shall continue to talk on the morrow.” With that you said nothing else. You stood your place and refused to shed more tears. You watched as Jace was hit with realization. Realizing that you weren’t going to speak anymore or return your feelings. He stepped back and his face was clearly written with hurt all over.

Jace turned to leave your chambers and once he had left, you broke down in continued tears. You broke down into messy sobs, feeling so alone and hurt. Your glassy violet eyes watching the door— thinking about chasing after him. Your eyes begin to dry, rimmed with redness and puffy, you were so conflicted and hated yourself for being so confusing, you wished you had the courage to declare how much you do care for him. But you could not, you were too late, he now thinks you do not love him.

As you continued to cry in your chambers, unknowingly to you— Jace remained behind your doors and hearing it all, salty tears swelling in his eyes. You both cried for each other, yearning for each other’s warmth with the door separating you two.

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“The design…” Alicent eyed your wedding gown, the seamstress was still needling the gown while you were dressed in it, stepping on the high stool as you were studied by your step-mother and sister, they both shared slight distaste for the gown. Lysanna was behind you with your wedding robe to be tried on.

“It is not quite finished yet, my Queen,” the seamstress announced, she placed more needles around the bottom of your gown. You were mesmerized by the gown, it was your step-mother who prepared this gown for you, you had to admit how she perfectly knew what you preferred and what not you preferred. The red lining on the white dress and golden accents were beautiful, the designs of Meraxes on your gown made you beam with excitement. You hate to admit how much step-mother knows about you even though you are still upset with her, she was the reason why you and Jace are having a rough patch.

“Let’s have you try on the robes, hm?” Rhaenyra asked as you quickly nodded, excited to see how they looked while Alicent spoke with the seamstress to have a cape sewn in on your sleeves. Lysanna helped you out of your gown before helping you into the robes. It looked gorgeous, the robes had blue and black as the main colors to represent House Velaryon and Targaryen.

You turned to face your family and they only had given you a smile. It was surprising to see Alicent cooperate and be less vicious to Rhaenyra but perhaps they put their differences aside for your weddings. “You look beautiful, my dearest,” Alicent complimented to which Rhaenyra wholeheartedly agreed. “And what of the headpiece? When will it be finished? Her wedding is in days, let you be reminded!” the seamstress moved quickly across the room to fetch the matching headpieces she had made for you and Jace, handing Alicent yours and she quickly placed it on your head.

It was perfect. Everything was perfect. Except you could not shake away the guilt that was burning inside you from what had happened last night. You and Jace have not spoken to each other since, he was off preparing for his celebration feast that was happening tonight, with Daemon and your father, Viserys. Nobody knew what had happened between the both of you but everyone in the Keep could all feel the tension.

Alicent soon became concerned and remembered, “The gown will be finished before the wedding, I hope?”

“For the heir and his future Queen’s wedding? I will have it finished before the evening,” the seamstress insisted.

You stepped down from the stool after having the robes be taken off of you. You watched as your step-mother place a bag of coins in the seamstress’ hands for her time and hardwork. While your sister graciously thanked her, you all said your farewell before leaving the room. You planned to meet Lysanna in your chambers to help each other with the gowns for tonight.

“Would you like for me to help you pick a gown for the feast?” Alicent placed a cold hand on your shoulder but you shook your head and gave her a friendly smile,

“Liz is helping me,” you answered, “she is helping with my hair as well.”

Rhaenyra nodded from your answer and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “I shall see you at the feast, sweet sister.”

“Thank you, Nyra.” you smiled while she scurried off to her chambers, you were standing alone with your step-mother, awkwardly. “Then I shall depart as well-“

With swiftness, you stopped your step-mother from leaving and she gave you a confused look but quickly was replaced with surprise once you shoved yourself into her embrace. Hugging her so tightly, you were scared she would be crushed. But quickly enough, she held onto you as well, possibly her grip was more tighter than yours. “I’ve missed you, my dearest love,” she voiced gently, genuinely terrified to let go of you.

“I have missed you,” you admitted, cried softly. Not caring with what Ladies or Lords around the halls are witnessing.

She didn’t waste a second to kiss your head gingerly and hush you like you were still a baby. “My sweet, miracle girl. What is wrong?”

You couldn’t answer her, instead you buried yourself deeper into your step-mother’s shoulder, the tears continued falling from your eyes, as you breathed in the scent of the Keep. You had not understand why you were suddenly missing your step-mother. In seconds, your step-mother brought you back inside your chambers, pleading to Lysanna to be excused and come back later. She sat you on your bed, helping you loosen your gown to feel more comfortable.

“We had a fight”, you confessed, you saw how she wanted you to continue about why, “about you.”

Alicent looked at you— confused, soon realizing what you had meant. Now understanding why you had looked so gloomy this morning, eye bags and a grim frown danced on your face. “Oh,” she muttered, “I am sorry.” you shook your head, not believing her apology, “No..really, my dearest, I am.”

“He is rather angry with me to know that I have gave you an opportunity to have a part in our wedding.” Her face seeming to hold some sort of guilt, “He’s seething with envious to know that no matter how much I hold hatred, fear, and disgust towards you..I will always find my way back to you, to please you, and to make you part of my life.”

To know that even if you hate her, you would always keep her in your heart. Why? Because she was there for you since you were born, had raised you like her own. You were always her little girl and will forever be her little girl. As much as Alicent despises Rhaenyra and her family, she had learned to accept that you were always apart of her family, she chooses to understand Jace’s anger.

At that you sat on the large bed with your mother, placing your head onto her lap as she soothed you to comfort, humming. You let yourself breathe in and breathe out to calm your nerves, silently sobbing while she whispered sweet nothings into your head, rocking you back and forth. You are ten-and-seventh, and yet you still loved being babied by your step-mother. Moments like this had you wishing that your mother was alive, you only relied on memories and stories told by your father and sister, sometimes your step-mother would tell you how much of a mother she saw in her when she was younger. It was sure by day that she would’ve loved you so much— you and your twin brother, you grieved for them everyday. You could only meet your mother in your dreams but that was more than enough, or that was you just lying to yourself for hope it’ll help ease your curiosity of your mother.

But it was okay, you knew you still had your step-mother, “Sweetest,” she cooed, kissing your forehead lightly, her kisses made you melt with warmth, you had missed this so dearly. “He will come to his senses soon. He won’t hold anger over you forever. He adores you.”

“That is what’s wrong, mama,” you whispered, you pinched yourself to calm your growing anxiety but it was not working, instead you twiddled with your rings, “I have led him to believe that I do not love him. He is rightfully hurt and I do not know what to say..”

Closing your eyes, breathing in the air before you spoke your truth. “My marriage has already ended before it even started.”

Alicent held your face, squishing your cheeks, your sad and heartbreaking eyes left her feeling more sorrow for you. “My dearest, you are no fool. It can be savored, tell me, truthfully, do you carry such love and devotion for Jacaerys as he has for you?”

Her question made you begin to wonder. You had always tried convincing yourself this betrothal was good for the family, for the House. It saved you from marrying your brother, loveless marriage or an abusive one with a high Lord who only wanted you for your Valyrian blood. But really, you knew deep down it was otherwise, no matter how much you wanted to convince yourself and others around you that you and Jace were always just family, it pained you tremendously. You weren’t as confident as he was when admitting his love for you— you didn’t know what to say or do. But you knew your heart belonged to him and only him, it was only right for you to make it up to your lover and it was only right to do it quick.

“I do,” you sighed, exhaustedly, leaning into your step-mother’s hold on your cheeks, “I love him with my whole heart. But I fear he may not want to hear it after what I done.” You had finally admit your love for Jacaerys.

Alicent let out a soft chuckle, getting up from her seat on your bed and straightening her gown, “Believe my words when I speak them, my sweet girl. He will be contented.” slightly smiling at the reassurance she tried giving you. You heard a knock on your chamber doors and it was Liz. To help you with your gown and hair for tonight, of course you let her in and dismissed with your step-mother.

You sat down at your vanity, quietly. Trying to think what to do tonight to apologize to Jace and express your true feelings for him. Waiting for Lysanna to start helping you, she noticed your dreary mood.

“Your eyes are swollen,” Lysanna pointed out and rubbed her cold hands over your face, it startled you which made her laugh. “I won’t ask what happened.”

Feeling a little better while she worked to braid your hair and wrap behind your head, leaving most of your hair down that were stylishly curled. “Have you ever been inlove, Liz?” you whispered, your eyes trained on her from the mirror, she looked rather stunned from your question. Worried you touched a sensitive topic but you wished for some sort of help from her, she was the closest companion you had and probably could relate to your troubles.

“Once.” Lysanna answered, truthfully. She brought over a bright red gown with gold trimming on the front of the gown and around the breast area, the sleeves reached mid arm and had fabric cascading from behind the ending of the sleeves. Though it looked magnificent and appeared to be the dress your step-mother picked out for you, you were not in love with how simple it was…or the color for that matter.

“He was my father’s squire. Much more older than I was at the time,” she helped you out of your pink gown and carefully put you into the red and gold one before starting to tie the laces for tightening. “The lad had dismissed my existence while he stayed in Winterfell, it broke my little heart. All of my hopes and dreams of marrying him disappeared when he left to arrive back to his home. My brother told me he left because his father had betrothed him to a lady from House Baratheon. That was the only time I had ever seen myself marrying for love, not for duty.”

At the newfound information, you frowned. Liz had only arrived to King’s Landing at the age of ten to be your lady-in-waiting. She has been your companion for so long and yet has never thought of marriage ever again. In a way, she was like you, the comfortable atmosphere around you both certainly helped you become more closer to the Stark girl.

“Do you long for home, Liz?”

“Most days I do. Why do you ask?”

“I long for home too.”

Your answer reached Liz’s understanding on what you truly meant. You knew she would understand. You both meant the exact same thing— not the home you grew up in, the home you had known all your lives. The home you desired for, a dream that you hoped to come true, a home that was far away from this place, a home where you could stay for the rest of your days and do whatever you wished. Where you were truly happy and safe.

You were finishing getting ready but you decided to take a few more minutes to help Lysanna with her gown, sure you both would have been late to the celebration but you wanted more time with her. Usually, Lysanna wore grey gowns with sigils stitched of House Stark but she started wearing appropriate gowns for the spring time, dark purples and flowery gowns looked amazing on her. You had her wear a pink patterned gown with much yellow accents and put her hair in a similar hairstyle to what she placed you in, but you wrapped the braids around the crown of her head to make a braid crown.

“Beautiful.” You complimented, Lysanna happily giggling at your words. You both left the chambers and made your way to the Hall where all celebrations and feasts are held. Tonight, not only they would be celebrating the nameday of your betrothed, but the celebration of your betrothal.

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Rhaenyra sat on the other end of the long table with Daemon, Lucerys, and Rhaena while waiting for Rhaenys who had came with Baela right by her side as well as her brother-in-law and her House since Lord Corlys was still at sea, in battle. Alicent and her family occupied the other end of the table while you and Jacaerys were supposed to be seated in the middle with the King, he was there but you were nowhere to be found. Nor was Lysanna.

“Where is my sister?” Rhaenyra whispered to Daemon, as if he would know where you were. He turned to look around the Hall, where many Houses with their Lords and Ladies were crowding. He did not find you but Lysanna was rushing through the crowd to be seated at the table. Rhaenyra had wanted to ask Lysanna where you were but Alicent got to her first. She whispered into her ear and after gaining a response from Lysanna, she looked relieved.

Lysanna made her way to sit next to Lucerys, the young boy quickly became flustered after receiving a smile from her. “Liz, where is the Princess?” Rhaenyra lightly whispered across, not wanting Jacaerys to hear so he wouldn’t panic, but he certainly would not react at the mention of you.

“She’s arriving soon. She had asked me to not wait on her, and went back to her chambers for something.” Lysanna answered truthfully. Rhaenyra was worried, Viserys was about to start his speech right about now.

Everyone had finally seated, once they had all sat, Viserys weakly got up and began his speech. But before he could even speak a word, you came in through the doors in a much different dress than the one you were previously wearing. A lavishing off-shouldered blue gown with ruffles lining across your collarbone, a lighter blue cape connecting around your sleeves, the patterns on the dress seemed to be in favor of House Velaryon and as well as the pearl jewelry that were around your neck and pinned between your ears. You wore the rings given by your father.

“Princess Y/n of House Targaryen, The Realm’s Beauty and the future Queen Consort.”

The knight announced your presence loudly, while everyone had got up from their seat once more to honor you. You had received the most happiest grin from the King and Rhaenyra’s family while you received a surprised look from your step-mother. Your betrothed’s eyes lit up for a moment once you had entered the hall, surely they all expected you to show up in your house colors but tonight you were here for Jace and only Jace. But he wasn’t the only one who seemed to be contented, the Queen who never was certainly pleased to see you show support to her and her husband’s House.

You climbed up the stairs and as you made your way to sit next to Jace, you placed a sweet kiss on his cheek while they all clapped. The King declared for everyone to be seated once again.

“As we all join together for another celebration. Tonight, we celebrate my grandson, the future heir to the Iron Throne, ten-and-fourth nameday.” Viserys announces loudly, to that, they all clapped once more. You gave Jace a warm smile—received nothing but a firm nod. Taking a sip from your glass, you almost felt all of your confidence drain out of you when he barely acknowledged you. “Not only we celebrate his nameday, we celebrate yet another betrothal between House Targaryen and House Velaryon, united once more. With my grandson, your future Queen’s heir— whom to be your future King, and with my second eldest daughter, your future Queen Consort. Let us celebrate!”

You gently clapped your hands and smiled towards your father who remained his eyes on you and Jace. As everyone all clapped again, music began to play, guests beginning to dig in their meals while you sat there, looking throughout the Hall until you were interrupted by a noise and saw Jace held his hand out for you.

Oh. The first dance of the evening.

Quickly you took his hand and was lead to the floor. Hesitating to take the lead, from your lover’s stance, he was much more confident to lead. As the music danced around you both, you cleared your throat and whispered towards him:

“We must talk.” you muttered as he circled you before you both appeared behind each other with your arms out.

“There’s no reason for us to talk, Auntie.” His words seethed with venom, you grimaced at the way he called you his aunt— not what you were used to. You both continued to dance away from each other and reuniting once more in the middle.

“I understand your anger, Jace,” you pleaded, you were desperate to make amends but it was not looking so good. “I realized my mistakes and I want to apologize.”

The dance was coming to an end and he harshly grabbed you, “You’re not forgiven.” He whispered down into your ear, lifting you in the air as you dropped on the floor before everyone clapped for you and Jace. He left you on the dancefloor by yourself until Lords and their Ladies crowded you. Watching him walk back to his seat without a care, you never felt so rejected and afraid until now. It shattered your heart as he changed his demeanor when he started talking with Baela. This was your fault, you must fix it. You were feeling defeated but snapped out of your thoughts when you felt a nudge on your shoulder,

“May I have a dance with the Princess?”

You wanted to politely refuse the young Lord but soon you realized it was not a young Lord, when you turned around you were facing the Lord of the North, Cregan Stark. Lysanna was watching with excitement to see you with her brother, she was so happy to hear from him that he would be attending. In a matter of seconds you begun dancing with him. Stealing glances over to him, you noticed how handsome he looked (though you could never admit that out loud.) He towered over you so easily— feeling rather short when next to him. His defined and mature looks, his furs that were draped over his shoulders made him look more masculine than any of the men that were in the Hall. The confidence in his stance was just the icing on the cake, everything about this man made you weak in the knees.

Recovering very soon from your ogling to the Lord of Winterfell, “It is a pleasant surprise to see you here tonight, my Lord,” you muttered, lifting your head after giving him a small nod out of respect, the older man gave you a light laugh from how you forgot your position. Grasping his hands around your waist, you let out a surprised gasp from how gentle he held you as he lifted you up in the air.

“It was my sister who asked of me.” He stated his reasoning, he helped you from the air to land you on the floor. That’s right, Lysanna had wrote many letters each month to her brother on any events happening and what was happening in her life, currently. It was a big surprise to see House Stark show up to any celebration that was held in King’s Landing due to them being in the North, it takes over a month to just travel here.

“Liz has always mentioned you, you are admirable, Lord Stark.” you were soon to be growing your confidence back, you were happy to be able to find comfort with a new friend you had made with the Lord Stark. Hoping he was enjoying your company as well.

Unknowing to you or the Lord of Winterfell, you were being watched not just by Lysanna but by your betrothed. Jace clenching his jaw as watched you enjoy the newfound company as you continued to dance with Cregan and laugh with him even though the dance floor was changing partners. Jace didn’t want to admit it, you looked like a divine goddess, he was mesmerized by your beauty that he almost forgot he was unhappy with you. But his grumpy mood soon came back after watching you dance with the Warden of the North while knowing he was an old potential suitor of yours.

It appeared that partners were changing soon, truthfully, you did not want to split up. You liked the friendly atmosphere you were able to make with him. “You honor me, my Princess. Please refer me as Cregan.” In awe at how he already wanted to be on first name basis. Before you could split apart, he gave your hand a kiss out of respect, “Congratulations, your betrothed appears to already be a strapping lad. Winterfell awaits for your arrival.” His manners made you shamelessly stare while being split up from the change of partners, grumbling once you realized Lord Baratheon became your partner, excusing yourself to return to your table. Happily eating the lemon cakes and toffee puddings that were offered.

“Sister! You must see the gift me and Daeron had prepared for your wedding.” Helaena quickly came up to you with Daeron by her side, holding a neatly rolled art piece that was collected specifically for you. You laid your eyes upon it with content, they knew how much you were into collecting art pieces, especially ones that were historical and ancient. You couldn’t wait to hang it up on your chamber walls with the rest of your collected art pieces.

You placed the art piece by your side and gave a genuine smile to your siblings for their sweet and thoughtful gift. “It is an amazing gift, my sweets. Thank you..”

“We had it exported from Essos,” Daeron explained, you assumed so since the paper was more softer than any art from Westeros. Your brother was explaining more in-depth with where the art piece came from. Helaena was telling you how happy she was when she got her hands on it as Rhaena asked to look at the art, handing her the paper, she looked so mesmerized by the colors.

You bid them off with a tight hug and a sweet kiss on their cheeks. Watching them sit back down at their seat, conversing with one another. Your gaze was soon locked with your young brother, Aemond. While Aegon, had run off to drink away and stare hungrily at the servant maids, making a complete utter fool out of himself. Your brother watched you from the side of the long table, your eyes began to sadden as you realized this was the first interaction you ever had with Aemond since two years ago, after the scary incident. He finally tore his gaze away from you and quickly your mood was ruined, once more. This is was a different kind of rejection, rejected by your betrothed and now rejected by your sweet brother, whom was the closest brother to you since children.

How could this night be so cruel to you? This was supposed to be a feast of celebration for Jace’s nameday but you could not hold your happiness anymore. As you’re drowning in your sorrow, Jace was drowning in his as well. He gave you a quick look before turning away once you noticed, you opened your mouth to say something but immediately closed it. Let him celebrate his nameday in peace, you thought, let him have no more worries for the rest of the night.

Your gaze was shifted to Lysanna, who was dancing with her brother and Luke, they all looked so jolly and contented.

Oh how you wished you were feeling those emotions right now.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I made this chapter longer than the others because I felt bad for taking so long to update😔 I’m sorry! But omg we get sm angst, muahahahahaha😈 yes I love angst, it’s amazing and horrible at the same time. Anyways shoutout to Cregan writers, YALL ARE SAVING ME IN THE CREGAN X READER TAG!!🙏‼️

taglist (woohoo!): @sigynxlokiwifelover @l-3-e @audigay @urmomsgirlfriend1 @cold-v0dka @cookielovesbook-akie @theoriginalwife000 @xoxovenusquinn(would not let me tag u:( @ghalakgx (would not let me tag:( @neenieweenie @classysassynabitsmartassy @generousbearwolflight @gariben @si1versamurai @deltamoon666 @aemondssiut (would not let me tag u:( @thelastemzy @ryantryan6969 @topazy @starogeorgina @infinitleyethereal @speedypeter @dramaroomrat @potatolady189 (would not let me tag u:( @zzz000eee @parkchaeyoung1997 @jaehyunyah

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wellbelesbian · 1 month ago

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WIP Wednesday

happy wipsday! thanks for tagging me @noblecorgi!

as promised on sunday, here is a bit of a darker scene from my upcoming @carryonthroughtheages fic:

I can hear Agatha keening over the boys babbling, falling over each other to shift the blame and plead the whole thing an accident, a joke gone too far. Such juvenile, clumsy words, really. They’re just kids. Fucking hell. What kind of a society fucks up a kid so much, it comes to this?

Agatha crying is a sound I’ve only heard once before in all the time I’ve known her. I try to move, to comfort her, but pain shoots up my leg and I cry out. A hush finally falls over the boys. I feel the weight of their realisation settle over us all.

"I’m sorry.” One of them snivels, sounding close to tears himself.

however, i've also been writing more of an original story, set after the Trojan War. here's a bit from Hermione, the daughter of Helen Of Troy, and if you'd like to see more of this wip, i post about it on my main @nausikaaa, under the 'my writing' tag.

Pyrrhus sat up and began untying his sandals, but his fingers were clumsy in the haze of alcohol, and he swore. Picturing spending the rest of the night perching on my seat and watching my husband fail to untie his laces, I sighed. I knelt beside him, pushed his hands aside, and made quick word of each sandal.

Then I looked up at him. The sun had not fully set, and while my curtains were closed, they were purely ornamental and did nothing to blot out the last rays of light. His hair was bright as a flame, his blue eyes like stars in the dim glow, though his eyelids drooped, and his parted lips were stained red with wine. He still looked like a girl, delicate and willowy, but a pretty girl. This close, I could smell him, the salt of his sweat, the almonds we had eaten with dessert, the leather of his sandals.

on a lighter note, i got a new puppy and realised i never shared photos!

meet Suzie! she's a cockerpoo, the same as one of my other dogs, River. she and my schnauzer Quinn took some warming up to her, but they're cool now, though they find her to be a bit much sometimes and jump on the couch to get away from her. one day she'll be big enough to jump up after them, and then they'll never know peace.

tags/hellos: @forabeatofadrum @cutestkilla @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog @j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @larkral @that-disabled-princess @orange-peony @aristocratic-otter @thewholelemon @alexalexinii @confused-bi-queer @shrekgogurt @comesitintheclover @raenestee @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @shemakesmeforget @ileadacharmedlife @supercutedinosaurs @artsyunderstudy

#wip wednesday #my fics #my writing #carry on through the ages #cotta 2024 #shoulder to shoulder hand to hand #original writing

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redsamuraiii · 7 months ago

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The Valiant Red Peony : Red Peony Gambler (1968)

Set during the Meiji era, RED PEONY GAMBLER stars Fuji as Ryuko Yano, the daughter of a gambler. When her father is murdered, Ryuko takes on a new name derived from the crimson flower tattooed on her shoulder – “Oryu, the Red Peony” – and sets out for revenge.

One thing I noticed about Japanese films is the use of flower names to reflect their character like in Shogun (2024) and Yae no Sakura (2013). Here, Red Peonies are flowers that can live over 100 years and thrive in cold winters, indicating that she survived the worst.

youtube

As mentioned in my earlier post, Asian films like Japanese films have always featured strong women who are feminine, gentle and caring with those they love and care but fearless, cunning, steadfast and a force to be reckoned with, against enemies.

There are numerous films such as this, Lady Snowblood (1973), Crimson Bat : The Blind Swordswoman (1969), Undercover Geisha (2003) & Ichi (2008), and anime such as Carried by the Wind: Tsukikage Ran (2000), Joran : The Princess of Snow and Blood (2021) & Hell's Paradise: Jigokuraku (2023).

They inspire Hollywood shows like Kill Bill (2003), Blue Eye Samurai (2003) and Shogun (2024). Japanese films are underrated, especially the old ones that I feel it's wasted that most of these shows are not available on global mainstream sites for the world to enjoy and appreciate. But it's good to see people becoming aware of them.

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multifamdomfan · 2 months ago

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All canon Descendants Characters:

Mal; daughter of Hades and Maleficent

Evie; daughter of the Evil Queen

Jay; son of Jafar

Carlos De Vil; son of Cruella De Vil

Ben; son of Belle and Addam

Jane; daughter of the Fay

Doug; son of Dopey

Audrey; daughter of Aurora and Phillip

Li'l Shang, Yi-min, and Lonnie; children of Mulan and Li Shang

Chad and Chloe Charming; son and daughter of Cinderella and Henry

Harriet, Harry, and CJ Hook; children of James Hook

Uma; daughter of Ursula

Gaston Jr., Gaston the third, and Gil; sons of Gaston

Dizzy Tremaine; daughter of Drizella Tramaine

Freddie and Ceilia; daughters of Dr. Feciliar

Squeaky and Squirmy; sons of Smee

Red; daughter of the Queen of Hearts

Morgie; son of Morgana

Uliana; sister of Ursula

Maddox; son of the Mad Hatter

Jack of Dimonds

Captain James Hook

Hades

Maleficent

Cruella De Vil

Jafar

Evil Queen

Merlin

Bridget/Queen of Hearts

Ella

Mr. Smee

Jasmine

Aladdin

Meadow

Jordan; daughter of Genie

Ally; daughter of Alice

Zevon and Yzla; children of Yzma

Ruby and unnamed sister; daughters of Eugene and Rapunzel

Sleepy Jr.; son of Sleepy

Bashful Jr.; son of Bashful

Diego De Vil; nephew of Cruella

Aziz; son of Jasmine and Aladdin

Harrold Badun; son of Horace

Jason Badun; son of Jasper

Anthony Tramaine; son of Anastasia Tramaine

Ginny Gothel; daughter of Mother Gothel

Claudine Frollo; daughter of Claude Frollo

Sea Witches

Dr. Facilier

Lady Tramaine

Mother Gothel

Yen Sid

Shere Kan

Mad Maddy; granddaughter of Madam Mim

Hadie; son of Hades

Artie; son of King Arthur

Pin; son of Pinocchio

Gordan; son of Grumpy

Herkie; son of Megara and Hercules

Eddie; son of Edgar Balthazar

Tiger Peony; daughter of Tiger Lily

Hermie Bing; daughter of the ring master

Big Murph; son of Black Murphy

Sophie

Arabella; daughter of Eric and Ariel

Bobby Hood; son of Robin Hood and Marian

Chester; relative of the Cheshire Cat

Ace

The Duchess

Dora; daughter of the Doormouse

Twee and Dee; daughters of Tweedledee

Katy; granddaughter of the Caterpillar

Bill; nephew of the cook

Opal; daughter of Mama Oddie

The Tweedledee and Tweedledum cousins

Carina Potts; daughter of Mrs. Potts and sister of Chip

Ariana Rose; Audrey's cousin and Aurora's niece

#descendants x reader #descendants #descendants characters #this took way too long #idk why i made this

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princesssarisa · 19 days ago

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On the subject of Sleeping Beauty, there's a Tang Dynasty Chinese legend called "Peachy Face". A young scholar named Cui Hu went flower-gazing in the countryside one spring and ran out of water. He went to a nearby house to ask for water and a beautiful girl answered the door. The two were instantly smitten with each other, but Cui Hu believed it was improper to do anything more than thank her and ask her name without her father present and chaperoning. He left and went home, but couldn't get the girl's face out of his mind. The next year, he came to this exact location and knocked on the door, but found the girl and her family were out. After waiting for a long while, he left a poem on the door:

In this very door, back a year ago, Your face among red peach blossoms glowed. The face is gone, I know not where, But peach blossoms still smile in the spring air.

Cui Hu left and went home, but a short while later, the girl, Peachy Face, and her family returned. She saw the poem and realized she had just missed meeting her beloved again, so she collapsed and fell into a coma. Several days later, Cui Hu passed by the house again and was attacked by the girl's father for "killing" his daughter. Once Cui Hu heard the old man's story, he rushed into the house and embraced the girl. She woke up, and her father, overjoyed, proceeded to marry her to Cui Hu.

Sleeping Beauty seems to be an Indo-European motif. Chinese stories of dormant/cursed heroines usually deal with ghost brides. The heroine will actually be dead, whether out of lovesickness for the hero, or she just randomly died young, before she could be married. Another Tang Dynasty legend, Zhang Yunrong, has the heroine take a sleeping potion to hide away from the Anshi Rebellion. A century later, the same sage who gave her the potion (fairy godfather) leads Xue Zhao, a famous vigilante, to her crypt, where her soul greets him and instructs him to dig up her body. She awakes and marries him. The Yuan Dynasty fairy tale opera Peony Pavilion has the heroine, Du Liniang, dream up a vision of her future beloved. She pines so deeply for the man of her dreams that she dies. Several years later, a scholar rents her old room and has a dream vision of her, upon which he finds out he was the man she dreamed of. He digs up her body, finds her alive, and they get married. The Chinese Sleeping Beauty usually has some agency, seductiveness, and also danger, as they're essentially ghost brides luring in men to satisfy their own desires.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @themousefromfantasyland, @the-blue-fairie

@thealmightyemprex

#sleeping beauty #fairy tale #china #tang dynasty #peachy face #variations

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plasticfangtastic · 1 year ago

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American Royalty. Epilogue.

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fic

A/N: Here's the epilogue hope y'all enjoy this last entry, it meant a lot to write this I just can't get enough of Dadlander fics, I hope S4 inspires me to write more dadlander fics or fics were I can put reader-chan or OCs as his spouse-- will post part 2 of the masterlist and update my pin post soon.

Epilogue

American Royalty

Homelander hurried downstairs, fighting with his tie as he rushed to the breakfast table, throwing the red string by the foot of the stairs in frustration, just stopping shyly by a mirror to make sure his hair was nicely combed, his phone buzzing in his back pocket– probably another missed call from an executive or Ashley about the upcoming shareholders meeting.

Forks and plates clink downstairs, as he makes his way past the kitchen where one of the maids is cleaning dirty pans, spotting the back of your head as you serve Ryan some juice.

“Good morning, uncle.” Said Elmo sitting on Homelander’s spot.

“Hello kid that doesn’t live here but still eats for free!”

“Father!”

“Good Morning, princess.”

He was quick to wrap his arm on your waist and kiss your temple, pulling a chair as he smoothly disarms himself from you.

He stares at Elmo who at the tender age of 15 is the same height as Homelander, he’s a muscular teen, a perfect 80’s movie jock even wearing a varsity jacket, his superhero suit a perfect match to Helena’s.

Her jacket hanging on her chair and massively oversized, a puffy bomber jacket only achieving to dwarf her small frame– it’s a strong red, and the inside liner it's made out of Homelander’s own cape, her suit tight on her with a red X framing her chest something that had now began to bother her father, her shortie gloves laid next to her coffee, Elmo's was black with a white X on his chest.

Helena and Elmo were an odd match but that was part of the duet's charm, with her stuck at 1.55 cm in height while he was already 1.85 cm and growing, she was skinny and her hair slightly longer just past her shoulders, her bangs still blocking her eyes.

But as she lifted her face away from her tablet, he was welcomed by a beautiful young girl, Helena had everything that made you beautiful, like a majestic peony– she had blossomed to perfection, so pretty he would rub it in people’s faces about just how pretty his daughter was, even the dark circles under her eyes added character to her features.

Elmo was a handsome boy and a concern, even if your daughter insisted she had no interest in the tall muscular teen, Homelander had begun to remind himself every so often that he couldn’t harm the child, he couldn’t scare him to keep him in line, for fear that Helena would lash back at him if he touched her best friend.

“No tie?”

“Don’t start princess, now eat something, we got an incredibly long day ahead lots of last minutes meetings–

“It's breakfast!” You interrupted taking a seat by his side– no work talk until you get to the office!”

He took a sip of his milk, turning to Ryan who was in an unspoken competition with Elmo about who could eat the most waffles– Ryan had grown to a handsome young man, a light stubble on his cheeks as he tried to look more mature, his hair messy, still in his pajamas which made Homelander’s eyebrow raise... somehow in this state it reminded him of Butcher specially with the growing beard.

“Excited about today?”

“A bit nervous” He chewed quickly, covering his mouth to speak– but am certain I won’t make a fool of myself in the interview”

“You will not fail the university admission interview. Godolkin would be suicidal to reject the son of Vought CMO and the brother of the Senior Vice president of research and development.” He smiles– Besides I basically pa–

“Maybe he wants to feel as if he got into Godolkin on his own!” You interjected– Ryan has been a tremendous hero, saved dozens of people and has done everything to stand on his own. You’ll do great Ryan. I’ll be there for you and so will Genevieve.”

You look to your side, her face covered in maple syrup.

She looked up, her long white hair it’s all puffy and a tad frizzy, short bangs on her forehead pushed back and her thick glasses sliding down as she tries wiping the sticky syrup off her lips, you check that her beige dress isn’t dirty.

“You’re going to take care of your big brother today aren’t you, my dove.” John said with his sweetest voice– gotta help him out when daddy is not around.”

He took a long sip of his milk, he looked past you just to get a good glimpse of his small daughter.

Genevieve had unsurprisingly been born just as different as she was extraordinary, her condition had been a source of concern at first– her vision quite poor, her skin sensitive to the sun and her eyes hurt under any harsh light but the V in her system had kept those ailments in check even if she was quick to sunburn it would heal within a day.

It had worried you as she stopped being baby, as she began to waddle towards her father that somehow Joh would cease to see his precious daughter and instead some sort genetic disappointment.

But John had adored her, every milestone was met with adulation and praise, everything he had missed with the other two he was experiencing them with Genevieve, both glued to the other’s hip, she was more than a clingy child, she refused to leave his side as a baby and a toddler-- at times she would even cried harder when hungry because she had to part her father’s side in order to feed, angry that it was you who was responsible for that… eventually you both learned it was easy to get her to latch if he was also feeding with her (for Homelander insisted on breastfeeding and no bottle) you could accuse him of being improper if he wasn’t cooing and falling asleep with your nipple in his mouth, his eyes fully glazed and his mind somewhere else, it made for an odd sight but you both didn't want broken eardrums plus it was somewhat soothing.

You jokingly teased to get him a bra with a baby bottle just to make it easier for her– as her cries every once in a while would break the glassware, he briefly considered before thinking it was too much… despite that, her clinginess brought him no grief, those 7 months he stayed home had brought a side of him you’ve never imagine he possessed, he was sweet and gentle, extremely attentive with her… the guilt on his face whenever he did something with Genevieve that he hadn’t done with Ryan and Helena would wear him down– forcing himself to part from the baby to spend time with them as much as he could, your kids went to faraway places, overseas lunches, art galleries anything they wanted just to make sure he wasn’t neglectful… only to get home and immediately remove his little dove from your arms and place her on his chest, sniffing on her hair as if he was doing lines.

By the time you both went back to work she would only really spend time in Vought’s daycare when Ashley, Ashley’s at the time fiancee or Helena’s PA weren’t available for when he wasn’t able to have her on her arms, eventually nobody minded that he had a baby in his arms, she attended meetings that Helena had no interest in and even those she did alongside her big sister, much to your daughter’s annoyance.

Everything Genevieve did made him fluster and blush, his cheeks and eyes hurting from how much smiling he did, when her first word were ‘dada’ he was born anew, you remember that afternoon as you tried to clean her diaper while he pester you to do it correctly while unable to do it himself– he hadn’t left her alone for the rest of the week just wanting to get to speak more and more, he was heartbroken when he missed her first step but got it recorded from Ryan.

She loved the new cat he’d bought for Helena for her birthday and for a while the two had a one-sided feud for his daughters affections, even more so for his little dove love who seemed utterly fascinated by the hairless goblin.

With every year his children spend with him– he grew softer and domestic, something you’ve never anticipated.

And a part of you grew more wicked as you were too happy that Ryan began to call you mom, you weren’t ‘Miss anything’ or Y/N anymore, once you found yourself cuddling him and running down the streets to not miss his school events, or staying till late to help him with a science project you were more than enthused when you realized you had become a normal family, he was your boy too.

You had grown to like this life just as much as he did.

The day he hung the cape he hurt as much as you thought he would.

Homelander had died but he did not.

He bore his scars both as a reminder of that final battle with William Butcher… a painful victory, but of proof that he had survived to see his children grow.

His face had been scarred– starting from his forehead, crossing his lips and chin to make it down to his neck.

The destruction of his face had broken him but as he saw that none of his children cared for his injury, only that he was alive and Genevieve would never knew anything else, it made it not just bearable but okay. It had been a hard road, a messy road but here he was still working at Vought, still running things and frightening every soul both above and below his station, finding his talents in Hero management taking Stillwell’s former position soon after then heading the marketing department as of two years ago.

You on the other hand had become co-owner of Lucci, after a second restaurant was opened– a more contemporary casual italian joint still serving award winning pizza but now more contemporary italian fair, part of the success had been the quality and ambiance but being Homelander’s wife did brought a fair amount of foot traffic to your restaurants– it was far from what you’ve hoped to achieve but you had a business, away from Vought’s Tower after that little accident that cost Homelander his face nearly destroyed the company.

But like the flu, it came back the next season just the same.

“So ‘The Watch’ got the green light for being debuted at the shareholder’s meeting, the rest of the team arrived last night after that fuck up with United… and we have hours of photoshoots today” Elmo said as he read his father’s message.

Even with the events that took Homelander’s cape it did not kill his worth to the company, his children now carried the burden to live up to the legacy, which meant continuing with the superhero business.

Nigel had become your daughter’s manager and with Homelander as the one running the department it was a guarantee success, Helena had cared very little about the job, only doing the tag-team work to make you and Homelander happy, to her it was only worth it as just another way to keep her foot in as many aspects of her company as she could juggle.

Tragically she had to work as a Supe and you could tell how much she hated it by the grimace she was trying to hide.

“I just said no work… that includes you Elmo.”

“Sorry Ms. Gillman but Dad won’t stop messaging me.”

Homelander looked at his phone staring at a pic of the final line-up after they arrived to the airport, proud of his selection, he had vetted them, tested them and had been working closely with all of them for their debuts… perhaps Helena’s intellect was partially inherited.

“Is okay honey… is a stressful week… 'The Watch' is a 15 year long project… The industry has had a rough couple of years but test audiences and online response has been overwhelmingly positive, so Vought is very nervous about this launch… and we know Nigel and Sven are mostly nervous about Phantasma.”

“I’m not going to fuck it up, I just don’t want to do this nonesense. I'm busy.”

“The suit gets your funding. V30 might’ve been a success but the rest of your research is dependent on your public image.”

Helena grumbled not wanting to air out dirty iodine stained laundry, she looked down to see the family cat pawing at her leg asking for bacon which she happily obliged.

You settled in the entrance, trying to apply sunscreen to Genevieve as she seemed bothered by this new brand’s smell.

“It's not that bad, my dove.” Homelander came in holding two ties in his hand but no Helena, Elmo behind him looking stressed out– you have to bear it. It's good for you”

“It's yucky!”

“Daddy and mom just want you to be safe out there in the sun… I’ll go buy you a nicer one later, I promise.” He was considering firing the maid who purchased the wrong sunscreen in the first place but he would run it by you later– but first you need to go and take care of your big brother… think of this as your own suit.” He said with a smile.

“Is not a suit! Is cream!”

Her voice was airy, he handed you the ties and took the bottle of your hands instead, kneeling to press a fresh dot on her chin, she pouted but let it happen.

As he got up you wrapped a light blue string on his neck, tying it with more ease than he could ever muster, while Genevieve skipped towards the entrance to find her brother.

“I thought we’d skip the rebellious years with her.”

“What, you think Helena is out of hers?” you lightly chuckle– Ryan wasn’t too bad tho.”

“Ryan was delightful… Helena… thank god she’s Elmo’s problem most of the time.” he said while shaking his head.

“I’m not dating Elmo!” Helena came down with a large messenger bag under her arm and her tablet in the other– even if they love us online.”

“Your dad didn’t mean it like that… more like am your babysitter”

“Say that again and I’ll break your jaw.” she said sharply.

“Always so feisty… I feel bad for your teammates.” You say as your daughter grumbles.

They headed outside bickering about the usual things.

“You look handsome.” Your hands flatten his lapels, getting a feel of his suit– I’ll take Ryan and Genevieve out for lunch so make sure you and Helena eat, don't make me call Elmo.”

“If you ignore these” he pointed at his scars and the slight drop on his left eye– "I tell you at this rate we might have to adopt this kid.”

Admittedly you two had given him his own guest bedroom, and his parents just took you as their designated babysitter as they work and traveled for work tirelessly, but when the superhero business took place it was them who handle it, as you stayed home with the other two kids… regardless in his own way Homelander was fond of the kid who also ate him out of house and home.

“I think you look handsome with the scars…” You whispered.

Your arms wrapped themselves on his shoulders, he grinned sliding his hands into your hips and into your ass, giving you a playful squeeze.

“As I always say… it makes you look distinguished… is sexy.” he smiled for the breathy voice turned him on.

“I think the older I get the worse they get…”

“Oh John… the gray hairs and the scar just makes me wanna fuck you in the coat’s closet before you head for work.” you whispered with a moan.

You kissed him, the peck turned passionate, he lifted you just enough to make a passing maid fluster, your hands trying to control themselves to not mess up his hair, you squeezed at his neck and shoulders as his tongue explored yours.

“There’s children here!”

Ryan covered his eyes, trying to rush past you two as he mimed some gagging, rushing to his bedroom to pick up a forgotten item before returning back down with a gust of wind.

“After you drop the kids… swing by the office” He leaned into your ear, his hand still in your ass– please. babe”

“Those fingers better be warm for me.”

He purred into your lips, hesitant to stop kissing you but as he heard your daughter shout about being late, he reluctantly freed you, as the maid handed you your coat.

As you followed, a small group had already formed on the street catching selfies with Elmo, Helena hid her face behind her gas mask wishing she could flip her finger to the annoying crowd as she entered the car after forcing herself to pose for some photos– Homelander waved you goodbye after kissing Genevieve.

Ryan and Genevieve are already in the car by the time the crowd disperses and Homelander’s car departs.

“What?” Ryan still looked grossed out, his ears already picked up on what his parents had discussed– hey somebody is gonna have to kept your dad in a good mood when he finds out you’re applying for the Performing Arts program”

“I shouldn’t have to lie to him about not wanting to be a superhero.”

“Being a superhero is what will get your foot in Hollywood. The indie scene can be kind to you but if you want to be the next ‘Guillermo Del Toro’ or Miyasaki– you need to keep that suit to impress future investors, producers and studios.”

“So the same thing he says to Helena… he’s going to kill me.” He mumbles.

“Just dedicate your first Palme D’Or to your father… he’s gonna kill you over making animated movies instead of ‘real’ films more likely.”

He scoffed.

“Daddy don’t get angries!.” Genevieve took a juice box out of her backpack, struggling with her little chubby fingers to remove the plastic off the straw– you guys are meanies!”

“Oh Genevieve… you’re right… Daddy is a saint” You help her out, too young to catch the sarcasm– just let me handle your father.”

You leaned towards him, placing your hand on his lightly stubbled face after handing your daughter her juice, looking at him with adoring eyes, he was your sweet boy you could almost see a younger Homelander in him… no… a young John.

“Your father will be mad for a minute but the moment he sees a whole theater room fawning after your work… when he sees you happy beaming with pride… he’ll be crying while starting a round of applause if anything he’ll be so cringy… Leave it to me… besides you’re not staying in Godolkin anyhoo.”

“NYU in two years…” He leaned into your hand– He did… made a big deal when I qualified for South by Southwest… and… he did got pretty upset about not qualifying for that other one…”

“He was looking forward to booking those flights to England” You smiled softly– let him throw his tantrum, my sweet boy. I’ll be right there if you need me, Ryan.”

“Thanks mom.”

Homelander stood beside Nigel and Ashley as the photoshoot took place, a couple heads from marketing and media relations hovered around, the director of photography assistant drone on about the shoot but Homelander paid her very attention, his sight on the computer screen analyzing the images, ensuring his daughter got the best angles, he made his way to interrupt the photographer as he picked “bad” shots, the man was used to helicopter parents trying to do his job in his behalf but superhero suit or not… nobody fail to recognize Homelander, so he listened.

“Her chin looks fat.” He mutters, the man swallows and just nods moving towards his assistant to take his camera once more, Helena scoffs ready for another round of torture– she better look perfect in these concept photos.”

The man nods rapidly.

“Show your powers a bit, princess.” He says towards her– "whose idea was to do a photoshoot in civilian clothes…?”

Homelander turned to Nigel.

“Makes them seem fresh. If they look stylish and beautiful in and out of the suit. People will eat it up… it would be easier if we could recreate what made ‘The Seven’ succeed, and other teams that try to be of that caliber but this isn’t meant to appeal to only the American market, so this works… heroes these days have to be approachable not godly figures …trying to set up a global network of superheroes alongside juiced-up V30 soldiers has been tricky.” Said Ashley-- so we gotta play perfectly."

He rolled his eyes, fidgeting with his phone, getting a glimpse at the other supes waiting for the turn or getting their make-up retouched.

“I feel like we should’ve been doing this 30 years ago to have some older supes in the different territories but this mentorship program was a genius move, Homelander, sir.” Ashley spoke proudly– but the girls are the best representatives of Vought and their countries.”

“Just shipping our recyclable waste overseas.” He chuckles in a creepy manner as his sight focuses on the other heroes– "I almost feel bad for Roman Candle, having to be stuck with Deep in Greece.”

“She has a good sense of humor about it” Ashley smiles at her direction– hopefully he stays there.”

The team was a pretty visually pleasant group, Phantasma and Poltergeist as reps of the American division, Roman Candle– a pyrokinetic Supe representing Southern Europe, the tomboy of the team, her playful pixie cut messy around her golden lyra band, her face covered in freckles, her suit a toga with a chainmail dress beneath, and armor gauntlets and boots, then there was Hex Trap– a powerful illusionist falling into her trap meant having a schizophrenia speedrun representing Northern Africa, her suit was rather casual, a victorian long sleeve blouse, leather shorts, fishnets, black combat boots, and gothic accessories, Hex was a statuest teenager, her hair long and braided and very much french-raised but they had another candidate for western Europe so Homelander handed her Norththen Africa; next to Elmo was La Tunda– a shapeshifter who could turn herself into a frightening beast, she was body positive but not offensive according to Homelander’s team, she was well liked in her country had she not been strong he wouldn’t have given her the opportunity, he had supervise her re-debut makeover– her outfit quite small and her middrift was a bit exposed but it was cheaper in the long run for her to destroy less material, and finally to her left about to have her donut re-fried was the team’s visual– Joro-Spider a successful model, a dancer, social media influencer, a real idol and the representative of East Asia, her long black hair gave her an elegant look and her black, yellow and red suit her half hoodie and sneakers gave her a cool modern look, she was the 2nd most popular after Elmo leaving Helena 3rd in her own team, it aggrevated Homelander but she was a big draw for audiences.

Homelander didn’t hesitate to laser that half-eaten donut making the girl squeal as she dropped the evaporating pastry.

“That’s your third.” She hides her face knowing not to piss him off– go wash your face.”

She runs trying not to cry.

“Ashley… why is Joro’s hair fucking neon-yellow?” He noticed the tips she was hiding in her hood– why was I not notified!?” He screamed.

“She showed up this morning like that!! We already talked to her parents but her fans” she nearly dropped her phone trying to unlock it to show him the hair reveal post, his ire calmed down at the sight of 200K and counting likes– it's a hit.”

“Tell her to come by my office after we are done here.”

Neither Ashley nor Nigel argued with him.

Late afternoon came and all he had left to deal with was the remnants of Helena’s tantrum, each photoshoot had driven her mad, and now she had locked herself in a closet, chunks of her hair trailing her path into the closet.

“Helena I can break this door, or Elmo can faze into that closet and get you out… but I don’t want to do any of that… I want you to come out. I’m not angry.”

He could see her cowering beneath some coats, he had displaced the crowd leaving them alone in the dressing room, he dropped to the ground resting by the door.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to stress you out… I know between the shareholder meeting, your research and your hero duties you have enough on your plate… but this is a big thing for the both of us… for me… it would be easier if you could just be Dr. Gillman.”

“Can I?” Her voice was a squeak.

“Not yet… not until you take over Vought… after that you can be just my perfect and sweet daughter.”

The door opened slightly, she crawled towards her dad, letting herself be cradled in his arms, sniffling loudly, her once long hair had been cut short, barely passing the lengths of her chin, it was a choppy mess even more so than before, he rested his chin on her head as he wrapped her tight.

“‘The Watch’ means a lot to me… after Butcher did this to me… after his hooligans almost took down Vought… I thought it was over but with you… with you by my side we have worked so hard to rebuild this empire… I’ve worked so freaking hard to get my crown back just for you… just so I have something to give you… I know it's killing you, but this is the only way to bring together our fractured kingdom… for you to lead this new generation of Supes to greatness. We’re American royalty, Helena… it does not come easy to have so many burdens.”

Helena clung to his suit, trying to not pout any further, trying to stop herself from crying.

“The world needs us… it needs your brilliant mind to guide it… in 10 years I don’t doubt you’ll be the head of Vought and no doubt the rest of the world’s superheroes would be under your loyal command… but we can’t get there if we don’t make sacrifices.” he kissed her head, burying his nose in her hair, as he coddled her– or you rather hand your crown to Elmo? Ryan?"

“No… You think the public will love me? I’m not you… am not pretty… I can’t actually fly… am not even that tall! And I suck with people!”

“You are the most beautiful girl in the whole world. When I was your age I was locked in a cage having to practice speaking to people via intercoms and phones… and now I give amazing speeches! Is a skill that you can learn, and flying is cool... is a great selling point but you’re strong and a genius.” He kissed her again, glad that she was still so little compared to him– You’re my daughter and your mother’s daughter… you can do it… for a little bit longer.”

“Maybe Genevieve will like being a hero… it’s hard.”

“It’d be nice if at least one of you does.” His smile is slightly forced but he can’t bring himself to be upset– just to make me happy.”

“She can fly already.” She sounded mad against his chest.

“My little dove lives up to her name… but we need to build a world for her… a world for us Supes and you’re the only one that can do that.”

“I just have to work for a little longer for mom’s and your future…” She lifted her head not trying to get out of her father’s embrace, he looked down at his hand pulling on her nose playfully– I won’t waste 10 years of hard work over some shitty photoshoot. Sorry.”

Butcher had nearly taken everything from her, she had to do everything to make sure Vought would remain, she had to protect her mother’s livelihood and her father’s too, so here she was consumed by anxiety, slashing the hair that’s been played, pulled and burnt, sprayed and washed all day– her nose burning from all the chemicals and oils.

“Let’s go back to the office… that’s enough for today… you got your daddy’s talents! There’s more than enough good shots already, shame that your teammates are so god awful at this… you did great… amazing…” he kissed her forehead gently pushing her away from him, as they struggled to stand up– my sweet girl… you will do amazing things as the head of “The Watch” Vought better watch out..”

“The world you mean.”

He looked at her hair, lifting a few choppy strands in-between his fingers, letting out a soft chuckle.

“I can make this work. Leave it to dad.” he winked.

“Thanks… dad.”

The two-day extravaganza was about to culminate, the fair and meetings had almost ended and the new international team’s first iteration had been a resounding success, Homelander had been approached by his team regarding representatives for India and a NATO backed hero for the eastern bloc, a couple names being thrown: a young man from Hungary and a young woman from Ukraine… he wanted to kept the female ratio high due to future sex-appeal and to foster audiences to view these heroines like daughters or nieces that they wanted to support and watch grow… and maybe with time also fuck– he turned to Also Ashley to politely reject all male prospectives for the time being.

He took a long sip of his ginger ale as Ashley and other execs discussed providing China with their own supe after tentatively selling some small quantities of V30 just to test the waters… he scoffed at the idea, almost colliding with Andrew their stupid CFO over it, it would be easier if he could just rip his jaw off instead of repeating himself, it was weird to be the sensible one on the table for once, leaving the room before he actually killed a man, his eyes constantly flaring as the discussion heated up.

You nudge at his shoulder, inside the basketball stadium that has been transformed to encapsulate the magnitude of Vought, there was the lounge… ‘The Seven Oasis’– the acquisition of the Brooklyn Nets and the Barclay Centre had been divisive but sports was always a good source of income– It was paying off to have your own facility especially after such aggressive expansions.

You both stared at the floor below where only 1 hour ago The Watch officially debuted, the electricity was still in the air as the girls were still on stage partaking in a Q&A, after a lengthy introductory documentary, showing their profiles and accolades.

He turned to see you in an elegant but simple cream coloured two piece suit, in your hand a glass of moscato.

“Ryan is a natural in front of the camera… remember when he was just a shy little thing?” You said resting your weight against him, he shifted lightly on his seat to make you more comfortable, as Ryan and some attractive woman hosted the panel presentation– The Patriot… he plays the role flawlessly, hard to believe it's Ryan under the mask.”

His brows lowered and his lower jaw pushed forward.

“You cannot keep giving me the silent treatment, it's been days.” You remark but he didn’t make a sound– can’t believe it took me 10 years of putting up with you for you to finally leave me alone… guess my back can finally rest.’

He put his ginger ale down, glad that the room was so private, away from the relentless onslaught of annoying execs, Joro was delighting the audiences showing her powers as she swung across the ceiling with increasingly more unpredictable and aggressive movements, it was quite the sight getting the crowd rowdy, he looked away to give you a murderous look.

“I swear we told you.”

“Don’t gaslight me. The one who does the gaslighting in this relationship it's me!” He remarked with a bark– you should’ve told me!”

“Well what’s done is done.” You tried to keep a confident look on your face– now what are you going to do about it?”

“What can I do? Make Ryan hate me!? Just gotta smile like a good boy and deal with it!”

“Exactly!”

“I love you too.” He said with heavy sarcasm, He looked back on the stage listening to Elmo discussing his exploits in Ontario, his goals for protecting the America’s and looking forward to heading down to Mexico– He will continue his Superhero duties! Let him try being fucking Scorcese all he wants but he’s not taking the suit off!”

He smashed his fist on the armrest, breaking it with ease, younger you would have jumped in fright but now it was but a lull, no palpable sense of danger in his actions, you took a short sip of your drink putting it down on the floor, your ears picking up on Elmo’s answering the never ending barrage of dating rumors, being a handsome boy surrounded by a bunch of cute girls certainly put him in a phenomenal position but he treated the answer with respect saying that these girls were like family to him.

Homelander eyes spark as the question became about Helena, he awaited the idiot’s response but Elmo was more than genuine when he spoke of her like her sister, the bastard did sleep in his house enough, he even ended his answer referring to Homelander as his uncle, looking into the booth with a wink– Helena was doing her best to stay still glad that her gasmask covered half her face and her bangs hid her eyes so nobidy saw her pissed off expression, the interviewer turned to Helena about the same question.

“Too busy.” Her tone was playful– maybe when am older and not helping take care of the country! Just not with this doofus!” She elbowed him playfully.

Ryan gave her an approving nod, definitely acting like the good older brother he was, as he reviewed the next question and quickly proceeded to ask the one after.

The audience seemed happy about that, Homelander relaxed turning back to you.

“You have my support there… The Patriot won’t fade away… our boy isn’t stupid, he knows being a super puts him in a better spot than others… but I better have your support for his dreams, in the same way I have supported this grand vision of yours… in the same way you and I have supported Helena.” You rested your chin on his elbow– remember when Helena graduated from MIT… how happy you were?”

He could still see his little 11 year old in her cap, a couple murmurs irritated him as they were incredulous to see a small child on stage, he had taken the job of her driver: flying her back and forth, he was happier when she went to Cornell just to make the trips shorter, her bubble was useful but you both were too worried about her going on her own meeting planes, birds and god knows what else.

He was one of those embarrassing parents that evening.

“Am not upset about him not pursuing Crime Fighting… am upset about being lied to… of course I’ll support him! What kind of dad would I be if I stayed mad about it!?”

“I’m glad you are still doing your best.” You stroke his chin letting him kiss your palm as he follows your tender gestures– Maybe we should start heading downstairs to meet the rest of the execs… heard from Ashley, Russia is throwing some big numbers.”

“Oh geez can’t wait for ‘The Cold War 2: Electric boogaloo edition’ these fucking idiots… Where’s Genevieve? She’s probably tired or high on sugar” he started getting up leaving his mess for somebody else to clean, offering you a hand to help stand up– you look great… that skirt makes your ass look amazing, hope the whole place knows just how good my wife’s ass is…” He gave your behind a light smack as you foolishly took the lead– better than wine.”

“She’s with Ashley’s wife, and thank you… you look cute in a turtleneck… maybe I get to see you out of it.”

As you left the suite, he stopped himself by the door looking into the crowd as ‘The Watch’ began to leave the stage.

“Was it worth it? Getting married and living with me and such.”

He could hear Helena's heartbeat finally calming down, Hearing Ryan speak kindly into her ear. You stared at him unsure as to what brought this on but whatever his ear was picking up might’ve stressed him out.

“I’m happy. I don’t recognize myself some mornings. But I didn’t think I was going to make it back then, always afraid CPS or Vought would take my kid away… wondering if I had a future to give her… then I realized I don’t want to recognize that old me…”

“Sometimes I miss that voice in my head but I don’t think I want him to come back… I like this… I like us… I like the Gillman’s… even the cat, that fat lazy naked cat.”

“You love that cat, you give him chamomile and oat baths so his skin stays healthy!” You laughed thinking of Homelander and that tiny goblin mewling as he stroked his paws with some soothing balm cream made for cats– I like this too… I like that we made it work.”

“And you… you like me? Like you liked me the first time?” you were a bit incredulous at hearing this 50 year old man sound like a teen for the moment, his hand heavy on the door but jittery– I like you… like you lots.”

You blushed, trying to calm down as he swayed lightly on his toes.

“Well you certainly don’t come home covered in blood and guts as often, like when we first met… Jesus you ruined so many nice tops because you were such a messy but sweet boy… shame… I wouldn’t mind getting rid of some shirts” you giggled, you were always a little messed up, you had to be to find him lovely in the first place– I like you… a lot… so…do… you wanna go out on a date with me then?”

You twirled with your hair, biting on your lip trying to be cheesy, here you were a teenage girl asking your crush on the school yard once again.

“Y-Y-Yes!” He swallowed, looking genuinely nervous– Should I get covered in blood for our date?”

“Maybe… altho maybe we should save that up for after Ryan moves to campus, Helena should be busy at work… and I get Ashley and her wife to babysit Genevieve… they want some more practice before the adoption finalizes…so promise?”

“Promise.”

His eyes glowed in a way no superpowered laser ever could imitate, he held your hand as he closed the door behind.

You both thinking about where to go for your next date.

“Maybe we could go furniture shopping and get a singular bed for our bedroom…” He said nervously.

“Maybe” You winked at him.

The end.

A/N: lowkey want to write a sequel to thsi fic but centering on Helena as she tries to be a hero one day so this its baity, also Helena is canonically a lesbian so she'll never be with Elmo as to how Homie will react well I always write him as canon Bi but he doesn't know she's gay yet so who knows.

Taglist: @demodemo909 @ghqst-fqce @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @thychuvaluswife

#homelander #personal #the boys #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #my fic tag #dadlander #plz check my other works if you'll like my stuff #shoudl be posting all of this in ao3 during my work break my issue was that some of my earlier fics were writen straight into tumblr drafts #and copyign and pasting from tumblr its hellish on mobile as i dont own a computer

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goddess-aelin · 1 year ago

Text

Peonies and Poplars

Written for Day 12 of Rowaelin Month-Meet Cute/Meet Ugly

@rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none!

Aelin had just put her hand on the last copy of Peonies and Poplars, the newest release in her favorite book series by R.J. White, set directly after Violets and Verbena and Tulips and Tithona. Aelin didn’t just want the book, she needed it like she needed air to breathe. She had to find out what happened to the titular character, Selena, who just got captured by Lord Westbrooke, her father’s greatest enemy. Aelin just knew that Selena’s star-crossed lover, Sir Rollins would rush to save her, but at what cost?

She was filled with glee at the prospect of doing a binge-read tonight.

Though, the moment her hand touched the book, another hand, slightly larger and tanner, did the same. She slowly turned to the offender, glaring just enough that anyone else would’ve started running. But this man just gave her a small smirk right back. Aelin’s eyes narrowed even more while the hulking brute clenched his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she tried to pull the book toward her. “I need this and since I was here first, I’ll just take that.” She tried to give a harder yank on the book, which was now held between them, to no avail.

“Well, seeing as we got here at the same time, Princess, I don’t think that’s exactly accurate.” He gave a yank in response to hers.

Still holding onto the book like it was her lifeline, Aelin once again narrowed her eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to settle this the old fashioned way.”

“Mhmm and how’s that?” The man rolled his eyes. “Flipping a coin?”

Aelin let out a humorless cackle. “Ha. As if I’d be so stupid. No, we have to have a good, old fashioned ‘who knows it best’ standoff.”

The man scoffed. “What does that even mean?”

“It means…” she paused for dramatic effect. When he raised his eyebrows in annoyance, she continued, “that whoever knows the trivia of the book best gets to keep the book.”

“As if I’d lose.” He had an amused look on his face..too amused. She should’ve known then.

“You’re telling me that you, Mr. Tall and Brutish, think you know this fantasy romance series better than I do?”

“Fantasy Romance has no gender stipulation, Princess. And judging by your attitude, I have a feeling you’d fit right in with Lord Westbrooke’s daughters.”

Aelin gasped. “You little–”

“Uh uh, Princess,” He nodded toward the small child standing at the end of the aisle, watching them with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “There are tiny ears here, no cursing, please.”

Aelin knew her face was turning as red as a tomato. This man was infuriating.

“Fine,” she whisper-yelled. “First question, Buzzard. What did Selena’s sister tell her before she ran off to meet Sir Rollins?”

A smirk crossed his face. “Well, first, I’d ask which sister you’re talking about, since she has two. Nice try tricking me. But Alicent told her that their family would never accept Sir Rollins and Magdalena told her that she’d cover for her and to go be happy.” The man gave her a self-satisfied smirk and Aelin pursed her lips. “My turn next.” The man started tapping his free hand on his chin and she could tell whatever his question was was going to be terrible. “Who is considered the best character in the series?”

“WHAT?! That’s an opinion question! This isn’t even fair!”

“Rules are rules, Princess.”

Aelin’s hand started to shake and a noise of frustration left her mouth. She probably looked like a petulant child but she didn’t care at the moment. This man was done. Even if she didn’t answer his stupid question right in his eyes, she was going to be going home with this book. “The best character in the entire series is obviously Selena. She’s amazing and witty and beautiful. She’s everything anyone could ever want and she’s just…she’s the best.”

The man clicked his tongue a few times, forming a “tsk-ing” sound. “Sorry, but that’s the wrong answer.”

“How can it be a wrong answer if it’s my opinion!?”

“Well, I actually agree with you that Selena is the best but if you remember on page three-hundred and fifty-six of Tulips and Tithona, Lord Westbrooke actually proclaims himself to be the best lord in all the land.” He gave her a smirk that she wanted to absolutely rip off of his face. Or kiss. Wait, what?

This…this absolute bastard. He knew she’d get worked up. And he knew she would get distracted. And knew she’d answer with Selena. With a final burst of strength, she tried to rip the book out of his hands, only serving to cause her to lose her balance and fall straight onto her ass.

“Miss are you okay?” The concerned voice came not from the handsome yet ridiculously terrible man in front of her but from the clerk of the store. She nodded. “Okay, great. Just to let you two know, we’re closing. Please bring anything to the front for purchase.”

She nodded, the silver haired man just standing there, looking at her with a bewildered expression. He reached a hand down to help her up but she chose to just roll her eyes at him. She didn’t need his help. She dusted herself off, leaving the man standing between the stacks and hightailing it out the door. All she wanted was the book, and now she left with a bruised ass and an even more bruised dignity.

She stopped down the street from the shop, ducking into a small alcove and putting her hands over her face. She made such a fool of herself in there and she wasn’t sure how she was going to live it down. Hopefully she would never see the clerk or the man ever again. That shop was now off her list of places to go to.

With a deep breath, she pushed off the wall and started making her way back toward her apartment.

“Miss, wait!” She turned to see the clerk from the store running after her, bag in hand. “You forgot this!”

Aelin gave him a bewildered look. “I didn’t buy anything.”

The man shrugged. “Maybe not, but it was bought for you.” Aelin just stood there as he handed her the bag and jogged back to the shop.

She opened the bag to find the same copy of Peonies and Poplars that she was just fighting over. Did that buzzard just…buy her a copy? She took the beautiful hardcover out of the bag, admiring the golden sprayed edges and embossed flowers on the cover. Opening the front cover, she saw a bright green sticky note on the cover page.

“If you want to talk more about the book, my number is 234-7783. -R”

Directly under the sticky note was a freshly inked autograph, signed R.J. White.

Aelin could only stand there as it sunk in that she just didn’t just fight over a copy of the book. She fought over a copy of the book, with the Author.

A/N: this absolutely will have a second part. I can’t just leave it like that 😜

Tagging:

@cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @wellofnothing @ayaashryver @moonknight-spector @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @heirofflowers @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04 @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @backtobl4ck @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @writtenonreceipts @shyvioletcat @aelinchocolatelover @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @athena127

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelinmonth2023 #rowaelin month #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #my fics #my fic

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rainbow-flavoured-skittles · 9 months ago

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’Cause Daddy Doesn’t Love Me, Mommy is a God

it’s here!! Almost 3k words of Jay centric angst why do these keep getting longer. this is split into two scenes; one from Jay’s childhood, the other right before he becomes a ninja. warning for one instance of mild swearing, cross posted to ao3

Jay poked at his cereal sluggishly. It was the first day of term break and he was all alone in the house. Again. Dad had gone to work, he was pretty sure, and wouldn’t be back until night. The housekeeper and nanny, Ms. Peony, was at her daughter’s wedding this week. None of the other employees were here today either, meaning that Jay had the house all to himself.

Giving up on his cereal, which had begun to get soggy, Jay went upstairs to his room. For other people, the house may have been considered eerily quiet, but for Jay it was normal. The only sounds he could hear were his own footsteps and the air humidifier. Gurgle. Gurgle. Gurgle.

Jay looked over his comic book collection. He had quite a few, ranging from Fritz Donnegan to Spider-Man to Wonder Woman. None of them seemed particularly interesting right now, though. Not even the Fritz Donnegan ones, which were his favourite.

Maybe I can draw something, he thought. Pulling out some colour pencils and paper, Jay quickly sketched out a dragon. He liked dragons. Cole’s mom had told them stories about them. The dragon he’d drawn was blue, with yellow stripes and fire coming out of its mouth. Pretty cool, in his opinion. Maybe Dad could hang it up on the fridge.

Speaking of Dad, Jay missed him. It was just the two of them when Jay was little, and now he was always busy. Jay missed when they would curl up on the couch with popcorn and watch a silly movie together.

Shaking his head to snap out of the old memories, Jay picked up another sheet of paper. Thinking about the past wouldn’t change the present. He went to go get the markers — he wasn’t technically allowed to use them, but they were needed for his new drawing.

Uncapping the orange marker lead him to realise it was dried out. He tried the red one instead, getting the same results. A third test showed that all the markers were likely dried and unusable.

Great. Now he really had nothing to do. It seemed too early for TV, and he didn’t want to bother plugging in the video games. Oh, wait! There was a landline in the house. Jay wasn’t entirely sure how to use it, but maybe he could call Cole. Cole was always good company.

Marching down the stairs now that he had renewed purpose, Jay found the landline and tried to remember Cole’s number. It wasn’t technically his, much like how the number Jay had given him wasn’t actually Jay’s, but it would contact Cole.

Punching in the numbers, Jay watched the phone ring. Someone picked up on the fourth one. “Hello?” That someone said. It was Cole’s mom.

“Hi, Mrs. Hence, it’s Jay,” Jay started. “I’m looking for Cole?”

“Oh, I’m afraid he’s not here right now,”

Jay felt a pang of disappointment at that. “That’s alright. Thanks,” he hung up before Mrs. Hence could respond. It was rude, Jay knew, but he did it anyway.

Now what could he do? It wasn’t even lunch yet, and Dad wouldn’t be back until after dinner. Jay had no one to talk to for the entire day.

Maybe a nap was the solution, Jay decided. Mrs. Chan, his old babysitter, had often said that sleeping helped pass the time. Though he wasn’t sure if that applied to kids, or just grown-ups.

It was worth a shot. Jay went back to his room, Spider-Man crawling up the stairs, and jumped onto the bed. His blankets were still rumpled from the morning, his stuffed animals shoved into the corner.

Jay closed his eyes and tried to sleep. It was harder than expected. The light kept shining into his eyes. Groaning, he pulled the blanket over his head, trapping himself in darkness. Much better, Jay thought.

He woke up at about five in the afternoon, well past lunch but still before his dad would return. Jay rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and dragged himself out of bed. Mrs. Chan had been right. Now, time to get a late lunch (did it still count as lunch?) and some water.

After a quick snack of potato chips and chocolate, Jay was feeling much better. Junk food was always good for energy, and Dad would (hopefully) be home by 9:00. He could watch movies until then.

Turning on the television and scrolling through Netflix, Jay found that there weren’t a lot of movies he wanted to watch. Giving a brief shudder at Coraline, he eventually clicked on Into the Spider-verse. It was a good enough movie.

One movie marathon later, it was already seven o’clock. Jay went to the pantry and grabbed some instant ramen as dinner — perhaps not the healthiest, but definitely tasty.

It was getting dark, now. Soon it would be completely pitch black. Jay hoped that Dad got home before that. He didn’t like staying at home alone during the night.

Jay slurped up the rest of his dinner and put the bowl in the sink. He’d deal with that later, right now he wanted to play with his action figures.

Fritz Donnegan lands on the ground, sticking a perfect landing. “No sign of any ambush,” he says. “I’m going to look around, stay on guard.” He takes a step forward, and then—

Downstairs, the front door slammed closed. Jay looked up at the sudden noise, and jumped to his feet upon realising that his dad was home.

“Dad!” Jay ran into his father’s arms, hugging him as tightly as a nine-year-old could.

“Hello, Jay,” Dad said. He pried Jay’s arms off himself.

Jay tried not to let that sting. “I drew a picture for you!” He exclaimed.

“Mhm,”

“Don’t you want to see it?”

Dad sighed. “Not right now, Jay.”

“Okay,” Jay said. “I’ve already had dinner, so there’s no need to cook for me,”

“That’s good,”

“I called Cole, too, but he wasn’t there. I did watch a movie, though. It was fun!”

“I need to shower and eat, Jay,” and oh, that was Dad’s ‘I’m Getting Tired and You Need to be Quiet’ voice. “You should go to bed now,”

“Okay,” Jay ran back upstairs. He hadn’t even gotten to show Dad his dragon picture.

Jay looked up at the mansion he called home and frowned. Dad was considering sending him to boarding school after all the trouble he’d been getting into. “It wasn’t my fault,” Jay had screamed last night. Dad had started yelling, and he hadn’t wanted to deal with it anymore. Jay had stormed out the door and didn’t come back until Dad was asleep.

No one was home right now, so Jay let himself in. Dad was still out with his girlfriend, Amanda. Yet another woman who treated Jay like he was rubbish, or pretended like he didn’t exist. After all, nobody wanted to deal with the illegitimate son of Cliff Gordon, Jay thought bitterly. Nobody except Cole, and he’d been gone for years by now.

Kicking off his shoes and shoving them in the hallway closet, Jay went to his room and collapsed on the ground. He didn’t bother locking the door. Dad would be out all night.

Scrolling through his phone showed nothing of interest. There was a new trailer for some action movie, but it wasn’t like Jay had anyone to go see it with. Also, Jay didn’t want to see anything with his dad’s face in it.

Hmm. Jay’s thoughts drifted to the makeshift hang glider shoved up in the attic. It was one of the results from his venture into DIY-ing. (Not that Jay didn’t do inventing anymore, just that it was one of the earlier projects.)

“Where are you?” Jay muttered to himself as he dug through the attic. It was shoved full of old trinkets and boxes. None of them seemed to be labelled. So far he’d found two boxes of old books and papers, five boxes of assorted junk, and one box of family photos. But no hang glider.

He squeezed past another crumbling box of who-knows-what and threw aside an old lamp. Jay figured it was yet another priceless antique that had been left to rot, much like the other twelve pieces of junk he’d found so far.

His efforts were finally rewarded when he found the hang glider dumped into a corner. Picking it up and shaking the dust away revealed that it was (mostly) in good condition. Now to get it out of the attic and to a good hang gliding place. Doing his best to fold it up, Jay dragged the hang glider though mountains of boxes and down the stairs. Huffing and sweaty, he glared at it.

“You’re a lot more trouble than I expected,” he said. “This better be a fun activity,”

Getting the hang glider into his car proved easier than finding it. The trunk was just barely big enough to fit it. Jay wasn’t technically allowed to drive, but Ninjago City wasn’t known for good law enforcement anyway.

The commute took just over an hour — enough time for Jay to finish the podcast he’d been listening to.

“Ugh, finally,” he muttered as he parked the car in place. Dragging the hang glider out, Jay found the nearest skyscraper and climbed up. He got strange looks for it, and it was a weird sight to see a teenager with what was essentially an oversized kite, but he managed.

The building he’d chosen was a good spot for hang gliding. With lots of other buildings around it, Jay had a much better chance of not falling to his death and landing safely on another rooftop. Sure, it was probably illegal, but no one would notice. Hopefully. Jay really hadn’t thought this through.

Well, too late to back out now. Jay spread the glider’s wings, checked to make sure he was fully strapped in, and jumped.

It was exhilarating for the first few seconds, but Jay quickly found that the rest of it was terrible. The glider worked — he had gotten a smooth takeoff, and he wasn’t falling to his death, but Jay should have realised the billboards scattered around were a hazard. He crashed into one with about as much grace as a manatee and collapsed. The world was swirling. Jay bet that if anyone could see him, they’d see birds flying around his head.

“Well, isn’t this an interesting sight?” A voice startled Jay out of his dizziness.

“Wh— huh?” Jay looked up, head still spinning, to see an old man sitting calmly and drinking tea.

“Who are you?” He blurted, then realised that was probably rude.

The old man didn’t seem offended. “A dreamer, like you,” he said.

Jay resisted the urge to call the old man crazy and run away screaming. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You may call me Wu. I’ve been waiting for you for a while,”

“What are you, some kinda stalker?” Jay narrowed his eyes.

“No, nothing like that. I want to offer you an opportunity,”

“An opportunity?” Jay parroted.

“Yes. There is a dark force rising, and I cannot stop it on my own. You have great potential. I want to train you in the ways of spinjitsu,”

“I don’t— what?” Jay’s head spun from all the new information. Or maybe that was the probable concussion.

“You have potential you are not aware of, and I can help you unlock it,” Wu sipped his tea.

“What’s this ‘spinjitsu’ gig going to involve? I wanna know what I’m getting into,”

“You would be able to help people. And the world could very much depend on you,”

Do it, something in Jay whispered. He took a breath and put a determined look on his face. “I’ll do it,” he said carefully, “but I need to pack first. And I can’t just run off without telling anyone,”

Wu nodded. “Of course. Meet me here tomorrow at sunrise, and we will start your training,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Wu smiled, picked up his teapot, and walked to the side of the building. When Jay blinked, he had vanished. Stupid cryptid old man and his stupid cryptic messages.

Jay left the remains of his glider on the rooftop. It was unsalvageable, and Jay figured that he wouldn’t have a use for it anymore. He found his car, shoved the parking ticket into his pocket, and drove home.

The house had lights on when he returned — that wasn’t a good sign. It meant that Dad was back, which meant the argument from yesterday would start again. Great.

Jay opened the door as quietly as he could, cringing at the creaky noises it made. You would think a multimillionaire celebrity could afford to oil his door hinges, but apparently not.

Dad was standing in the main hall when Jay turned around.

“Where have you been?” He snapped. “I’ve been waiting for over an hour now.”

Jay scowled and looked at his dad angrily. “I was out.”

“Out doing what? I grounded you,”

“Doing stuff,”

“You are grounded. You’re not allowed to leave this house.” Dad glared at Jay, but it had lost the intimidation factor years ago.

“Well, I did. And it’s not like you would’ve noticed,” Jay said that last part under his breath, but Dad still caught it.

“Why wouldn’t I notice?”

“Because you’re never around! There! I said it! You’re never around, you don’t ever know where I am, you don’t care about me!” Jay exploded. “All you care about is your stupid career and fancy house,” Wow, where had all that come from? Jay wasn’t normally very vocal towards his dad.

“Jason Edward Gordon! Go to your room and don’t look at me until you’ve apologised.” Dad glowered.

“Well then, I guess I’m not gonna look at you ever again,” Jay spat. He marched up the stairs and slammed the door.

Cursing under his breath, Jay stomped around the room and looked for his backpack. If he was going to become some sort of ass-kicking vigilante, he’d need supplies.

Clothes. A couple pairs of socks. Water bottle. Headphones. Tablet. All these items were shoved into a duffel bag — the backpack wasn’t big enough. Though Jay was still bringing the backpack, because it was cool.

He made a point to be as quiet as possible. Let Dad think he was sulking, when really he was plotting an escape. The old man Wu had said to meet at sunrise, but Jay would have had to pack even if he wasn’t running away, so it didn’t make a difference to do it early.

Jay looked into his drawers for anything he might want to keep. There probably wouldn’t be any coming back after he left. He found multiple trinkets he’d bring — an old pocket knife, some notebooks, a portable charger. All of those would be useful.

Digging even further led him to find an old bracelet. It was old and tattered, and the little star charm was banged up, but Jay remembered this bracelet. Cole had given it to him right before he got shipped to boarding school. Jay slipped it into his pocket.

A bottle of lotion got thrown into the mess that was his bag too, along with a couple books. Jay left his phone. He didn’t want to get tracked, and he rather doubted Wu had Wi-Fi.

Zipping up the duffle bag and shoving it under his bed proved easy enough. Jay thought about writing a note, but decided not to. Not like Dad would bother reading it. He fell into a dreamless sleep quickly.

At exactly four o’clock in the morning, Jay’s alarm sounded. He didn’t normally wake up so early, but sacrifices had to be made if he wanted to get to Ninjago City before sunrise. He grabbed his duffle bag and crept down to the kitchen, planning to get a quick breakfast. He didn’t expect his dad to be sitting at the table.

They made eye contact. Dad opened his mouth, clearly planning to ask what Jay was doing, so Jay spoke first. “I’m leaving,” he said.

That seemed to stun Dad into silence. “What?” He finally croaked out, face a perfect mask of shock and confusion.

“I’m leaving,” Jay repeated, “I don’t know if I’ll be back.”

“Why?”

Jay shuffled his feet. This conversation had not been a part of his plan. “I got an offer,” he decided to say. “I was told that I have potential, and that I could unlock it,”

Dad rose to his feet. “Who?” He demanded. “Who told you that?”

“Just someone,” Jay shrugged.

Dad narrowed his eyes. “Was his name Wu?”

“I— yeah,” Jay admitted.

“I should have known,” Dad sighed. “Your mother knew him. She always said that you’d have to make a choice, someday. I suppose this is that choice.”

“Mom knew him?”

“I don’t know all the details, but yes. You should go. I think we both need time alone, and it’ll be good for you. Just stay safe,”

“You don’t get to parent me after ten years of forgetting me,” Jay snapped.

Dad looked at him with sad eyes. “I know,” he said. “I wasn’t cut out to be a parent. If you don’t come back, I understand.”

Jay thought back to his earliest memories. Their relationship hadn’t always been this strained — he could remember good times, with movie nights and silly dance parties and being tucked into bed with a kiss. But he couldn’t find the words to say all that, so instead he said, “I’ll tell you if stuff happens.” An inadequate response, but it would have to do.

Dad nodded grimly. “You can take the car,”

Jay nodded back and took the keys. He walked out the door, started the car, and didn’t look back. He’d have to drive quickly if he wanted to make it by sunrise.

#Jay is not having a good time in this one #I tried to make his meeting with Wu parallel the one in canon #I think it turned out pretty well #the next one focuses on Cole and Lilly's death #it's going to be split into 2 chapters most likely #bruise childhood friends au #jay walker #cliff gordon #jay ninjago #ninjago jay #lego ninjago #ninjago #ninjago au #ninjago fic #kit's writing

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ackerfics · 1 year ago

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FAMILY LINE — a house of the dragon fanfiction | aegon ii targaryen x oc

act zero: the prince and the siren (wc: 1.3k) | masterlist

note: oh, and i forgot to mention, there is past daemon x oc in this oops | this is also posted on ao3

Ink on olden paper says two children were born from a great love that shook the realm.

A dragon rained fire, mountains were threatened, men were slayed — all were stepping stones to a hand being asked in marriage, to a union witnessed by the Fourteen Flames and the Seven themselves. The heavens rejoiced, sang their choruses high in the clouds bathed in ever-golden rays, as they blessed the kiss that bound their souls, bodies, and hearts into a single entity, as seen in every birth of their blood — the midnight hall shattered, igniting the spectacle of celestial bodies every pair of eyes marvelled at and years later, the most tumultuous of storms, carpeting the land with the most vibrant shade of viridian that lasted moons on end.

The Rogue Prince and The Siren of the Vale.

Daemon Targaryen and Aellara Arryn.

Every story started with a bold declaration.

For someone who loathed the jadedness of the Vale, Daemon found himself enthralled with the enigma of The Siren of the Vale who was rumoured to be the most bewitching woman to exist in this age, having only heard reminiscent tales from his good-sister, Aemma Targaryen, and songs spread from the mouths of bards. Men would trek the highest mountains to reach Eyrie in hopes of catching a single glimpse of the veiled beauty. It was the very reason why he blatantly rejected his grandmother’s impending proposal to a Bronze Bitch he wouldn’t dare touch in this lifetime, with that fucking sneer on her face as if he was the dirt and she was the god. If only he could shovel her face into the dirt and be done with it. Instead, he longed for the object of everyone’s desire, and that was the youngest child of the House that boasted a falcon for their sigil. Having The Siren by his side would surely sway the public’s favour to lean more toward his side. It would mean ensuring his place as his brother’s Heir; she is of Targaryen blood after all. To have the woman of everyone’s dreams as the Queen Consort would give him the power he never thought Daemon had, which had him singing prayers to the gods he believed in even though he wasn’t a pious man.

With no potential bride linking to him since The Good Queen Alyssane nearly betrothed him to Rhea Royce, Daemon had all the freedom a young man could ever want and need. Pleasure houses were frequented (he had more lovers than any of the noblemen combined — probably even had bastards running around), lands were flown over by the Blood Wyrm, and positions were given to him by his brother (all of which never actually reached a moon at most — fucking Hightower cunt). He had it all. But all it took was a little slip through one of the towers of Eyrie while on dragonback and he was back to the first tile.

There was no other reason for him to propose a marital union with one of the Arryn daughters than to solidify his claim on the throne.

That was all.

There was nothing captivating with the periwinkle blues owned by such a woman of ethereal enchantment. He didn’t trail his eyes from the effortless waves of her white gold hair (every piece of ornament she tangled with her tresses was pure art) down to the pleasing curves that couldn’t be concealed with her flowing dress. (It was almost like the Maiden was born in the realm; Daemon nearly groaned in front of Eyrie’s family seat). His mind wasn’t occupied with conjuring the most sinful images concerning the young woman — he didn’t picture out mapping a constellation of red peonies on her skin or tasting the drink of the gods she very much possessed. Of course, he didn’t gulp down an unnecessary collection of nervousness down his throat when she placed her godly gaze on his worshipping, undivided attention. Fuck, she was so beautiful that he was now covering his crotch with linked hands. Her father was talking yet their joined eye contact sent an impulse of static energy, just enough for The Rogue Prince to feel a jolt down his spine.

But he wasn’t the only man this ambitious to steal the Maiden from her heart and home.

“Prove that you’re devoted to taking my daughter’s hand under your protection, Your Highness. Prove that you are a worthy man of my greatest treasure.”

Bloodshed reigned; there was a battle between the suitors of Aellara Arryn. It was almost called a tourney if not for the condition that for a victor to emerge, the opponent must be decapitated and unable to make a sound except for noises of demise. And with too much blood on his hands, Daemon Targaryen walked away from the bodies as the winner, hastily taking a single stem of a sapphire rose from a jittering squire and (surprisingly) placing it behind Aellara’s right ear with the tenderness befitting a man ensnared by the most dangerous curse known to the realm (but not before making sure there wasn’t a single drop of blood on her skin; as much as he loved seeing blood on someone’s skin, it was almost a crime to see it on hers). Daemon crowned Aellara as the Queen of Love and Beauty without being told to, seven Hells, this trial for her hand in marriage wasn’t even a tourney needing a beautiful woman to be crowned. Yet he did it anyway. All to sway her to his side.

But was it really?

He found his breath hitching when Aellara smiled. It was seeing the glory of Old Valyria right in front of his eyes. His chest pounded against his will as she lifted a dainty hand, a handkerchief in between her hold, and dabbed it on one of the blood splatters on his cheek, erasing a sign of his ruthlessness with her divinity. The shade of blue owned by the rose contrasted deeply with her blonde hair, lighting up the shine innate in the periwinkle hues of her eyes. She was a fucking vision and he never desired anything more in his life until he met her.

With the Siren out of the chambers of her House’s seat, Daemon Targaryen wed Aellara Arryn at the beginning of the 105th year After the Conquest in the ways of the Seven and Old Valyria.

The premise of this romance was worthy of ballads yet it was the start of something so cruelly beautiful for one of them.

From wailing a loss of a person so dear that a large part of your soul broke away; going away because of a loved one’s exile; bearing the heir of the Prince of Dragonstone and relishing in the cocoon of appreciation in enveloped you; gaining two stolen dragon eggs for the twin babes; watching the love of your life flying to war while giving birth under the shattering night sky; suffering the betrayal of your husband’s unfaithfulness and disloyalty, breaking every bit of the vows made in front of fourteen pairs of eyes; to accepting yourself leaving this world in the same way it took your sister.

And it left behind three children with no titles, no protection, no family — it was the world against their little faces, so naive at the slimy fingers of faux niceties and always on the receiving end of reptilian smiles and hollow pity. The hourglass is letting the sand trickle in, waiting for the moment the scavengers pluck out the lingering, pulsing ache that will never be forgiven and forgotten. Because all the while The Rogue Prince created another bubble of domesticity across the seas, a son grew up too soon, a daughter stepped up to become the caretaker, and a young babe never had the chance of a complete family.

rory speaks !!

the reason why this sort-of prologue is so short despite carrying so many things is bc daemon and aellara are not the main focus of this story. i wanted to give a glimpse as to what is the nature of the main characters' parents' relationship; the main thing summarising everything is that daemon is a huge whore and is power-hungry for the title that given to him ... so, poor aellara. and having her die from childbirth is another thing to add to daemon's suffering bc this man has seen enough of it to last a lifetime (his mother, his sister-in-law, wife, and future wife; don't know how he keeps fathering children when this is what he experienced yikes). another reason why this is short is bc we're mostly seeing the events play out in the kids' (aesira, aether, aegon, and aemond; the furious ae's) eyes so, the information is limited when it reaches the twins' ears. bc let's face it, we always sugarcoat things when we tell a little bit of info to kids.

damn, and i had to post it here; let me prepare myself for the backlash woo

#— rory's passages 🌼#— family line | hotd ☀️#hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x oc #hotd x reader #daemon x oc #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon x reader #aegon x oc #aegon ii x oc #aegon targaryen x oc #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader

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hannahhook7744 · 27 days ago

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your Version of The Tiger Lily x Lampwick wedding fanfic ?

Tigerwick Wedding!:

Summary: Lampwick and Tiger Lily's wedding. Inspired by this post. Trigger warnings: anxiety, insecurities, etc. Requested by @casinotrio1965 .

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Maybe setting up everything on the day of the wedding hadn’t been the brightest shared idea Tigerlily and Romeo Lucignolo Rossi (or Lampwick as he much preferred) had ever had—but they had thought it would be more exciting that way and now they had to deal with the consequences.

“When’s Tiger Lily gonna get here?” Lampwick asked, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice as he fidgeted with his black bowtie—itching to do something but knowing that he couldn’t do anything to help because his grandmother, mother, sister, and bride-to-be had all forbidden him from doing anything that would potentially damage or dirty up the red suit Pinocchio, Pete, Smitty, Jenkins, and Alexander had helped him pick out.

Mentally hissing at his self-deprecating thoughts to shut up as he did.

The attendees, workers, and guests were all running about, rushing to set up different decorations and the flower arrangements Lampwick and Tigerlily had picked out (tiger lilies, tiger peonies, tulips, petunias, blue veronicas, and sunflowers which Bella helped them pick out based on what they symbolized) and shouting back and forth about how they were running late as they tried not to trip over all the rugrats running around. His own daughter, Tiger Peony—sporting a cute little orange dress that matched her baby sister, Tulip’s, pink and green one—, included. It was an absolute mess that at any other time the red head would have loved but was just making the groom’s anxiety worsen more and more at the moment.

“How many times do I have to tell you that seeing the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding is a bad omen, sputafuoco?” His grandmother, Bria, scolded half heartedly in sync with Bella—his younger sister and Tiger Lily’s Maid of honor—who called out from across the woodland wedding venue. “You can’t see her till the wedding actually starts, dunderhead!”

Three things happened in sync:

Lampwick glared at the younger girl as she dusted off her sleeveless green tye-dye dress and adjusted her bow. Paying him no mind. “Cut me some slack, will ya? I just wanna see the mother of my chi—”

Baby Tulip started wailing from baby holding his soon-to-be mother-in-law was wearing, causing Alice and Pinocchiio’s two babies (Ally, one, and Pin, a few months old) as well as Eilonwy and Alexander’s daughter, Eleanor, to also start crying.

And

3. Tiger Peony threw a bouquet of flowers at her aunt, practically steaming out of her ears and about ready to throw a tantrum. “Leave my daddy alone!”

“Bella, don’t insult your brother on his wedding day!”

“Peony, don’t throw anything at your aunt!”

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After soothing Tulip and calming Tiger Peony down from her tantrum, Lampwick was once again shooed away to the side and told to just sit and wait until the ceremony started. Which left him alone with his thoughts again with nothing to do other than watch his friends and family set up his wedding.

Having to listen as the bridesmaids—Alice, Eilonwy, and Tiger Lily’s cousin, Pink Daisy,—giddily talked about the idea of their ‘besties’ finally getting married as they helped the lost boys finish setting up the tables. All of them doing their best to not dirty their tie dye dresses in the process because today was the day (or one of the days) were absolutely everyone wanted to look their best. As everyone had been telling him all day—including his in-laws, who Lampwick had been convinced hated him until then.

His in-laws, who were currently scolding Tiger Lily’s brother—Hard to Hit (who was about to enter middle school)—about the way a best man is supposed to act at a wedding. Which, playing in the mud did not include, apparently: Lampwick didn’t really mind but stayed out of it. Feeling kinda touched that they were even bothering given their initial disapproval of him.

“Hey man, turn that frown upside down—you shouldn’t look all grumpy when you’re getting married.” Alexander (who along with Pete and Pinocchio were his groomsmen) teased, bumping his shoulder against his—getting nothing but an eye roll in turn.

“Come on Lampwick, how can you be sad when this is one of your guests?” Pinocchio (his stepbrother and bestfriend) asked, holding out a drooling Pin who someone had managed to wrangle into a baby tuxedo when Lampwick wasn’t looking.

Pin who immediately perked up and started reaching for the groom as soon as he noticed him. Having always preferred him over his father’s other friends. Quickly riding Lampwick of his sulky mood and causing him to melt. “Aw come here little guy—”

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

“Oooh, Oooh, uptown girl, She's been living in her uptown world.”

The music started.

Playing was Tiger Lily and Lampwick’s song, Uptown Girl by Billy Joel.

It was February 18th—the anniversary of when they started dating—and the guests all rushed to get in position, whether that be their seat or a spot where they were to stand because of a position they were given.

The cake was nowhere to be seen but Lampwick didn’t worry because he knew that Tiger Lily’s elderly grandmother, Blue Begonia, was the one making and bringing it. They had decided on it being Pineapple flavored, because that was Tiger Lily’s favorite, with lemon icing because that was Lampwick’s favorite. At the top there was going to be a beautiful cake topper that Lampwick’s stepfather, Geppetto, had crafted for the occasion—one featuring Tiger Lily and Lampwick dancing Tiger Peony, Tulip on his back.

Tiger Peony marched down the isle, flinging flower petals as far as she could get them, with Carter (Alexander and Eilonwy’s son) trotting not far behind, a death grip on the pillow that was holding the rings.

Lampwick shuffled his feet and fiddled with his cufflinks, smiling wide as he watched as Tiger Lily emerge in a stunning sleeveless–backless pastel yellow ballroom style dress with pink, red, and teal highlights on the middle and on the sleeves, traditional jewelry, and her hair up in a beautiful bun that was held up with a beautiful beaded hairpin that really highlighted her beauty. Both of her parents arm-in-arm with her, ready to give her away as Tulip loudly babbled in her great aunt, Purple Lilac’s, arms from where she was seated with Pink Daisy’s husband, Brave Pine.

Everyone, even the lost boys (young and old) and Peter, smiled at the sight.

Lampwick’ mother was crying, blowing her nose on a tissue as Geppetto patted her on the back, and blabbering on about how her little boy was growing up so fast.

Peter was officiating and started his speech as soon as Tiger Lily stepped up and stood next to her husband-to-be, and grabbed his hand—indulging in the warmth that the two of them shared and had always shared from the moment they had met. Clearing his throat.

“Today we are here to—”He glanced down at the pile of flashcards he had written the notes down on. Scrunching up his nose as he tried and failed to not to make it obvious that he hadn’t memorized the speech.

But luckily for him, Lampwick was tired of being patient and just wanted to be married already. “Can we, uh, just skip to the vows?”

Peter shot him a sulky glare and grumbled. “Fine, fine. The couple has written some vows they’d like to share and so on.”

Everyone chuckled, snorted, giggled, and even full out laughed at that.

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

“Why can’t Uncle Peter and Aunt Bella ever be serious?” Tiger Peony sighed, interrupting her father’s recalling of the event with a huff and an eye roll.

“Probably because they haven’t grown past the age of twelve.” Tulip snorted. “Twelve year olds are sooooo immature.”

Blue Veronica, their younger sister, gave her an unimpressed look. “Tulip, you’re thirteen.”

But Tulip wasn’t perturbed and just waved her off. “Exactly. So much more mature than a twelve year old.”

Sensing an argument brewing, Lampwick interrupted. “Girls, I can’t finish the story if ya start squabbling with one another.”

Blue Veronica huffed, but whatever retort she had had on her tongue died before it even left her mouth.

“Can we finish the story already?”

“We will in a minute—” Lampwick waved his oldest off, amused. “Now, where was I…did I tell you how I proposed to her in the first place?”

“No.”

“Nope.”

“I was just about to ask that—”

Sunflower, being just a baby, just answered by blowing a raspberry.

Lampwick smiled, getting lost in thought for a moment. “Well, we had been dating for a few years at that point and it was right around the time Tulip was born—”

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your-divine-ribs · 9 months ago

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Valentine’s Day (Dad Van)

Valentine’s Day with Dad Van 💗

Dad Van Masterlist Main Masterlist

💗 Van's always said he hates the commercial side of Valentine's Day and you do too, but that doesn't mean that you don't secretly want him to spoil you.

💗 You have a sneaky plan to drop major hints around your daughter Grace who has a habit of feeding everything that she hears back to her dad.

💗 "Mummy likes peonies the best Daddy... big red ones... and tulips too... but they've got to be pink or white..."

💗 You smile to yourself as you hear Van asking her to use her 'quiet' voice whilst you're in the kitchen next door. It's not working... you could probably hear her if you were halfway down the street.

💗 "She likes chocolate too... any type of chocolate... she's not fussy about that!"

💗 "Shh Gracie!" Van urges back. "We don't want Mummy finding out beforehand do we? We gotta keep it a secret!"

💗 "But Mummy always says we shouldn't keep secrets from each other!"

💗 "Mummy's right but this is different angel," Van explains patiently. "Some secrets are good secrets... when you're doing something nice for someone and you want it to be a surprise... it's okay then."

💗 It's quiet for a moment and you can picture the thoughtful look on your daughter's face as what Van's told her sinks in.

💗 When she does speak again she is actually whispering this time and you have to press your ear against the door to listen... you know you really shouldn't but you can't help it... you love to hear their Daddy/daughter chats.

💗 "I've got a secret too," she giggles secretively. "I have a boyfriend... at school!"

💗 "A... a boyfriend?" Van splutters and you have to slap a hand over your mouth to stop the loud laugh that nearly bursts forth that would give away your eavesdropping. "Bit young for that ain't ya?"

💗 Grace has already filled you in on the 'big fat crush' she has on one on her class-mates, Robbie, but she's not told her dad yet whose protective streak goes into overdrive around his daughter.

💗 Grace is all coy giggles as she confides in her dad. "Well he's not my boyfriend yet... but I want him to be. Can you help me? I want to do something nice for Valentines and Mummy says you're dead romantic!"

💗 "Oh, she does, does she?" You can actually hear the smugness in your husband's voice.

💗 Without warning the door's suddenly opening and you're stumbling forwards, driven by the momentum of leaning against it.

💗 "Ahhh!" You gasp, lurching over the threshold, your fall broken by a pair of strong hands as Van catches you.

💗 "You weren't snooping by any chance were ya love?" He smirks at your glowing cheeks as you right yourself, flustered but trying to hide it.

💗 "No I wasn't!" You cry out rather unconvincingly as Van and Grace look at each other, sniggering. "I was just... errr... I was just coming to ask if you wanted a cuppa actually."

💗 Van and Grace spend the rest of the afternoon sitting cross-legged and hunched over together on the living room floor, Van with his acoustic guitar in his lap and Grace with her little pink sparkly notebook and matching pen.

💗 There's plenty of tinkling laughter from Grace and chuckles from Van, cries of "No that sounds silly Daddy, that doesn't even rhyme!" and "That's class that is Gracie, you're a natural!"

💗 "What're you two up to then?" You ask, intrigued, peering over Grace's shoulder to try and decipher her messy scrawl in the notebook. "Looks like fun."

💗 "It's nothing!" She blurts quickly, snatching the notebook up and swiftly closing it, hugging it closely to her chest.

💗 "Doesn't look like nothing to me," you say, full of curiosity. "C'mon, tell me. What is it?"

💗 Van nudges Grace gently with his elbow and they share a knowing look. "I reckon Mummy's being nosey again, what d'ya think, eh?"

💗 "Yeah... and we can't tell her because it's a secret!" She purposefully exaggerates the last word, a huge mischievous grin stretching wide across her face. She really is the spitting image of her dad sometimes. They're like two peas in a pod.

💗 "You'll find out soon enough love," Van adds mysteriously and you look between them both, taking in Van's tight-lipped smirk and the sparkle of excitement in Grace's eyes. There's no way you're going to find out what they're cooking up between them.

💗 "You'd better not be up to no good!" You laugh, backing away to leave them to it.

💗 Van presses a hand to his chest, speaking with an exaggerated innocence that doesn't match his cheeky expression. "Us? Up to no good? Never!"

💗 The next few days leading up to Valentine's Day you have to endure plenty of hushed whispers whenever you walk into a room that Van and Grace are occupying, their sneaky collusions mounting the closer you get.

💗 On the day you awaken to the sensation of a pair of soft lips peppering gentle kisses all over the exposed skin of your shoulder. You hum in appreciation, pushing your body back against the length of Van's, your bare feet tangling together.

💗 "Morning beautiful," he greets you, hands sliding around your waist and nudging under the hem of your pyjama top. "D'ya know what day it is?"

💗 "Hmm... morning," you reply, practically purring as you feel him moving your hair to one side, his lips brushing the delicate skin of your neck. "It's... Wednesday isn't it?"

💗 "Yeah it's Wednesday... but it's a special Wednesday," he murmurs in between kisses. "D'ya know why?"

💗 "Nuh-uh..." You decide to play dumb, enjoying the attention he's lavishing on you too much, taking full advantage. "I am still half asleep though... maybe a few more kisses will wake me up..."

💗 Van needs little encouragement, a hand curling around your shoulder to pull your body down so you're flat on your back and he's hovering over you. "Now that's a service I can certainly provide!"

💗 You lie back, feigning sleepiness whilst Van kisses your forehead, your cheeks and the tip of your nose before scattering tiny kisses all down your jaw. "You awake yet love?"

💗 "Nah... not yet... still sleepy... keep going!"

💗 His hair tickles your skin whilst he nuzzles into the hollow of the base of your neck and you let out a contented sigh, your body relaxing into the mattress.

💗 "Maybe this'll wake ya up..."

💗 Why is he so good at this? You can feel your toes curl involuntarily as he sucks gently at your pulse point... you have to stifle a moan.

💗 "Daddy! Daddy! Wake up! It's the day! It's here!"

💗 Van leaps a foot into the air away from you in shock. The excited cry is followed by the sound of tiny feet drumming on the floor before your bedroom door flies open, crashing back on its hinges.

💗 Grace is carrying the biggest bunch of flowers, all your favourites, lush deep red peonies and delicate white tulips, all hand-tied and finished off with a silk bow. They're so big she's practically obscured by the petals.

💗 "Happy Love Day!" She announces proudly, grinning at you, thrusting the flowers towards you.

💗 "Oh wow! Thank you sweetheart," you beam as you take them from her, then you turn to Van. "They're beautiful, thank you... but I didn't think we were doing gifts this year?"

💗 Of course despite your words you've already thought of Van, a bottle of his favourite cologne stashed away in your drawer and some racy lingerie you intend to keep for later on tonight...

💗 "Ahh that's only a little something," he grins. "Wait till we get to the main event!" Him and Grace exchange looks before he's rising up off the bed and him and Grace are rushing out of the room, whispering conspiratorially to each other.

💗 They return just moments later, Van with his acoustic guitar and Grace with her notebook, settling themselves down on the end of the bed.

💗 "Let me go first!" Grace says excitedly, thumbing through her notebook and clearing her throat like she's just about to give an important speech.

💗 "I do love you Mummy, but this isn't for you... this for Robbie." You and Van exchange smiles full of quiet amusement at her serious tone then back to her she starts to read out a wonderful poem. It's full of declarations of love and how it makes her feel all warm and fluffy inside.

💗 You can definitely hear Van's influence even though Grace insists that it's all her own work. You're pretty sure not many 6 year olds would slip the word 'acquiesce' into a poem unprompted though.

💗 "That's amazing!" You enthuse as she comes to an end, giving a little bow as you and Van both applaud her. "I'm sure Robbie's going to fall madly and desperately in love with you after hearing that!"

💗 "Just like you and Daddy," she smiles, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "He says he got you to fall in love with him by writing you a song."

💗 "Talking of which..." Van's grins widely as he starts to strum, keeping his eyes fixed right on you as he begins to sing an unfamiliar tune.

💗 You've been together for years but his voice still gives you goosebumps, especially when he looks at you like that, with all that love and adoration in his eyes.

💗 Grace joins in on the chorus and you can't hold back the pearly tears that brim in your eyes and overspill down your cheeks. You can hear that your daughter's definitely put her creative stamp on their little project.

💗 The melody is sweet and simple and the words are touching and heartfelt and the fact that they wrote it together just for you makes your heart swell with emotion.

💗 There's no for need showy words or fancy metaphors to get the message across, it's quite simple and abundantly clear... they love you... and just like once before all those years ago you can feel yourself falling in love all over again.

#dad van #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #van mccann x reader #vanfic #valentines

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jjungkookislife · 10 months ago

Note

So much was happening in your blog in the last 24hrs that it took me a while to catch up with all your posts. I’m not really good with suggesting songs but i took so long that i think drabble night already ended but I’m still gonna send this just in case.

May i please request a fluffy dad!Yoongi drabble? 🥺 but ofcourse only if you are still writing. I understand if drabble night ended.

On that note, I am so happy to read Mother Dearest and excited to read other drabbles for HFTH 😍 I love that couple and the other characters in it so I am looking forward to read more of them 🥰 but please don’t overwork yourself.

I hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself 💜

Oh yes I kinda went on a writing binge 🤣 I’m taking care though. I think I’ll relax for a few days

Abundance of Flowers

pairing: dad!Yoongi x mom!reader

warnings: none?

Yoongi was up earlier than usual. He was careful when he slipped out of bed, making sure he didn’t wake you up.

The farmers market was just up the road and the sun was slowly rising over the horizon. He knew if he took too long to get there, the vendor would be slammed and it would put his plans behind.

The quick trip doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes. He kicks his shoes off by the front door, slowly shutting the door behind him so it doesn’t make too much noise.

Yoongi is quick to head to the kitchen. He has three gorgeous bouquets of flowers and he was even gifted a flower crown that he wore over his silver hair.

Breakfast doesn’t take him too long to cook. He plates the food and puts it beside the bouquets.

His wife’s bouquet is grand. Red roses and baby’s breath and wrapped together and tied with a ribbon. Two smaller bouquets sit on the table.

One is some beautiful sunflowers wrapped with a yellow ribbon for his daughter, Ava. The other is a bouquet of peonies for his youngest daughter, Ara.

Usually, Yoongi would do breakfast in bed but it was a school day and his daughter’s alarms were already ringing. They sleepily entered the kitchen a few moments later.

Yoongi smiled at the twins, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, daddy,” they said in unison as they rubbed their eyes and his wife appeared yawning.

“Good morning,” she says as she helps her daughters to their chairs before kissing Yoongi on the cheek.

“Got you something for later,” Yoongi grins, kissing his wife on the lips.

“So did I,” she replies, winking as she takes her seat at the table.

“Ooh, flowers!” Ava grins as she picks her bouquet up to her nose to sniff. She giggles when her sister does the same and sneezes.

“Daddy has a crown,” Ara points out. Yoongi nods, careful not to knock the crown off his head as he takes his seat.

“They’re beautiful, babe,” his wife says as she admires the bouquet. Her present for his husband sits in a small box in the closet and she’s eager to show him later on.

The family eats together, placing their bouquets in vases before getting ready for school.

Yoongi kisses his wife as she leaves for work. He grabs his daughters’ backpacks and helps them put it on. The twins wait patiently as Yoongi locks the front door. He takes his kids hands in his and they set off to the school just down the block.

Yoongi’s mother will pick the girls up from school later today while his wife and him spend the night in a hotel in the next time over. It’ll be their first night alone since the twins were born and he couldn’t wait.

When they reach the school, Yoongi plucks two flowers from his crown and hands one to each girl.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he reminds them. “I love you.”

“We love you,” the girls give him a hug and he kisses the top of their head before they turn around to head to the school. Their teacher greets them at the door, waving at Yoongi.

He waves back and takes his leave once his girls are safely inside. He loved mornings like these. Filled with smiles and love.

Tomorrow there will be another, and then another, and so on.

#jjungkookislife drabble game #dad!yoongi

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planchettewrites · 4 months ago

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The Epic of Cyclops and Jean Grey

Jean Grey/Scott Summers (Cyclops) Hadestown AU

DESCRIPTION: The story of the Seasons is a story born from love, the love between a the King of the Dead and the Goddess of Spring. It is an ancient story, a melody nearly as old as time and space itself. Their passion is what made the world go around, and this is the story of their love. A take on the Hadestown Epics, told through Cyclops and Jean Grey.

CONTENT: Allusions to sex, song-fic Planchette Writes style

A/N: After starting X-Men, I immediately fell for Scott Summers and Jean Grey's relationship. I think their love is absolutely adorable. I wish I had an AO3 to post this on, I'll share it here. Also, there is not nearly enough fics of these two being happy.

1.6k Words | Safe!

The story of the Seasons is a story born from love, the love between a young man and a young woman. It is an ancient story, a melody nearly as old as time and space itself. Their passion is what made the world go around, and this is the story of their love.

Cyclops was the King of the Underworld, King of the shadow, and King of shades. He was the King of all who dwelled in the land of the dead. He fell in love with a beautiful lady who walked in the fields of flora her mother created.

He fell in love with Jean Grey, the goddess of spring, grain, and nature. He fell in love with her beautiful red hair and her kind blue eyes. At first, he was stunned by her beauty. She gathered flowers by the light of the sun, and she looked as gorgeous as Earth itself.

With a hat in his hand, he asked her to be his Queen. He was simply a man with nothing to lose in her presence; no longer a King, just a man in love with a woman. The King took her home to the Underworld to become his Queen, where she no longer had control over her domain.

Over time, he fell in love with the woman she was. He fell in love with her strong and kind demeanor; he fell in love with her willpower and dedication. He loved her with all that he was and all that he could. Her beauty was radiant, and nothing could ever change his love for her. Nothing about her was imperfect; she was as pure as the white falling snow and as gorgeous as the peonies that grew.

Jean Grey loved her husband as well. She loved him and the kingdom the two shared; she was happy as Queen. She was in love, and she was happy; what more could she ask for? She loved her husband like she loved the midnight rain, the flowers that she grew, and the way the sun set over the grassy hills of the world above. But without her in her world up above, nothing would grow. Her mother was so struck with grief that she refused to grow anything without her daughter around.

It was then her husband made an agreement with her: that the Queen of the Underworld would spend half of the year in the world up above and the rest of the year in the arms of her husband. When she returned to the world above, the world came alive. The sun burned twice as bright, and the trees grew greener than ever before.

Their love is what caused the world to change; the cycle of life and of death, the adjustment of the lives of the people, and the birds and their flight. The world had developed a rhythm to the Gods’ song of love.

____

Cyclops was the King of the Underworld, the King of all that was glittering and all that was gold. He was the King of oil and coal. He was the King of diamonds and the King of spades; he was the King of mortar and bricks. He was the King of all those who were dead.

He was a King who ruled with a fist of iron over his subjects. He ruled over his subjects, who built their graves and moaned for their freedom. His subjects bowed to their King, who paid them wages and kept them from a monotonous afterlife. Their pickaxes crashed, and their hammers fell in line with each other. They bowed to their King, who was stern and stiff, a King who never relented under the weight of his own empire. They bowed down to their King, anxious and uneasy, a King who never showed his fears.

The King of the Underworld built a castle with the hands of the dead, a castle that kept him boarded up and alone on his throne.

Boarded up and alone was the King during half of the year with his Jean Grey gone. His loneliness simmered and fevered as time went on. He thought of his wife in the embrace of the glorious sun, the sun he could never see, and his jealousy festered like a wound. It grew and grew until his mind swirled with thoughts of his woman dancing in the fields that her mother grew, and all he wanted to do was keep her like a caged bird in his ribcage where no one would take her from him.

He thought of his wife’s gentle laughter and kind eyes, and instead of the comfort he was supposed to feel, he was filled with anger and doubt. Doubt that the woman he loved would ever return home. Dread that she will choose the world of the living over the world of the dead.

She was the goddess of all that was good, and he was the god of the pitiful dead. He was the god of the moans and groans of the miserable souls lost to the River Styx. She grew the flora and brought the changing of the seasons. He was the god of eternal misery and treachery.

He hated all those who got to feast their eyes on her figure. He hated those who dared breathe the same air she breathed. They would all become one of his subjects, and he hated them for a singular discernable reason: they got to relish in the presence of his wife while he could not. He was forced into half a year of misery and loneliness while the world of the living got to enjoy her presence. He had half a mind to throw himself into the River Styx with the rest of the damned, but then, who would be there when she returned?

Who would be there to greet her with a smile and a kiss? Who would hold her as she mourned the changing of the seasons, where her spring and summer were replaced with autumn and winter? Who would be there to kiss her and make love to her when she lay in their bed? If it was any other man than him, he’d ensure that man had a painful and slow death.

But all he could do was miss her. But until she returned home, there was work to be done.

____

Heavy and hard is the heart of a king, some may say. The King of iron and the King of steel loved everything like the hammer loved the nail: endlessly beating against it until it submitted. Conversely, the heart of a man is simple. His heart is made of flesh and blood, whether he is a king or a peasant. All that heart loved was a woman—a woman that was already his.

Cyclops was the King of the Dead. His world was the color of death and decay, and his heart was similar. Yet, even the hardest of hearts begins to emerge from the love of a woman.

It was when he saw her there in her mother’s garden, the wind blowing through her hair and the sun on her shoulders, that he fell in love. The smell of flowers permeated her presence and a smile that could cure disease. He didn’t know how and why, but he knew she was destined to be his Queen. No, she needed to be his Queen.

At that moment, Cyclops was simply a man with nothing to lose.

It was like he held the entire world to his chest when he held her. It was like his arms cradled the entire Earth. Something inside of him changed. Something inside of him opened to a woman that he would love for the rest of eternity. His heart was unhardened when he heard her laugh and smile; when she lay next to him at the end of the day, he knew this was where he belonged. Falling in love with his Queen was the easiest thing he had ever done, and he could not imagine a world without her.

Now, the heart of the man in love with a woman has hardened. Now, that man was King, and he had everything to lose. A man with everything is viable to break easily. Like Atlas holding the world, laboring beneath the weight, the more on his plate and in his hands, the heavier the weight of the world on his back. He keeps his back hunched and his head low, growing anxious and afraid that what he has will disappear, crushed beneath the weight of his world.

Unfortunately, what he was protecting was already gone.

Thus, the singer asked him. Where is your treasure? Where is your youth? Where is the man with his arms outstretched to his woman, the man who stands in the garden with nothing to lose?

Cyclops wept. He thought of the woman who sat at his side every day, the woman he went to sleep next to, and the woman he loved. He thought of how he shut her out and how his work overcame his need for love. He turned to his woman, tears streaming down his cheeks. Similarly, his woman was in tears. He was already at her side in mere moments, holding her as she cried.

“I love you; I love you more than you know.” he wept, running his hands through her hair and keeping her close to his chest.

“I know,” she said, holding her husband tightly. Jean Grey loved him more than she knew. Jean Grey loved her husband like she loved the land of the living, she loved him like she loved flowers, and she loved him like she loved the sunshine. She loved him like she needed air. She loved her husband until the end of time and to the edge of Earth. Nothing would ever change that for her. The King of the Dead was the only man for her. In this life or the next, whether in this universe or another, it was Cyclops and Jean Grey. Eternally and forever.

banners credit: @cafekitsune

#x men 97 #x men the animated series #scott summers #cyclops x men #cyclops #jean grey #jeanscott #planchettewrites #planchettewritesfanfictions #scott summers x jean grey

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shiorihyugawrites · 3 days ago

Text

Diamond Of The First Water

In the aftermath of war, Paradis finds itself in need of powerful alliances. When Emperor Armand of Valoria offers his military aid in exchange for the hand of his daughter, Princess Solina, in marriage, Captain Levi Ackerman is thrust into an engagement that begins as a political strategy but soon becomes something much deeper.

Princess Solina, sheltered from the world and unaware of the realities of love and war, finds herself drawn to Levi—the man known as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. As they navigate royal customs, public expectations, and the growing threat of Marley, the bond between them deepens into a genuine connection.

But neither Solina nor Levi are prepared for the challenges of a political marriage, the weight of intimacy, and the secrets that lie beneath the surface. As Solina enters a new life with Levi, her naivety is tested, and Levi faces a battle unlike any he’s fought before—the fight to protect his heart.

Can their love flourish in the midst of war, duty, and danger? Or will the forces conspiring against them tear them apart before they can find peace? (Levi x OC)

Chapter Four

The grand halls of the Rose House were filled with the soft hum of activity as preparations for Princess Solina’s upcoming wedding to Captain Levi Ackerman continued. Every corner of the palace was bustling with servants and attendants, ensuring that everything was perfect for the arrival of the Paradis delegation. The mood inside the palace had shifted in recent days, moving from anticipation to tension, and at the center of it all was Solina herself.

In one of the largest chambers of the Rose House, a group of seamstresses worked diligently around Princess Solina, their hands moving with expert precision as they adjusted the delicate fabric of her wedding gown. Solina stood still in front of a large mirror, her eyes gazing at her reflection but with little focus. Her thoughts were far from the intricate gown she was being fitted for.

The gown was stunning, as expected—a masterpiece of Valorian craftsmanship. The fabric shimmered in the light, a soft ivory hue adorned with delicate lace and intricate embroidery of roses and vines that symbolized her house. The dress flowed elegantly around her, hugging her small waist and flaring out at the hips, highlighting her curvaceous figure. The long train stretched behind her, giving her an ethereal, almost regal appearance. And yet, despite the beauty of it all, Solina’s heart was heavy with anxiety.

Her mother, Lady Solana, stood nearby, her emerald green eyes watching the seamstresses’ work with a critical but approving gaze. She had been silent for most of the fitting, though her presence alone was comforting to Solina. Beside her, Princess Soleil, Solina’s younger sister, fidgeted with excitement, her fiery red hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. Soleil was only sixteen, and the idea of a grand wedding, especially one involving a foreign prince (or so she romanticized Levi to be), was something she found thrilling.

"Solina," Soleil said, her voice bright, "you look beautiful. Captain Levi is going to be in awe when he sees you."

Solina smiled softly at her sister’s enthusiasm, though the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thank you, Soleil," she said, her voice quiet.

Across the room, another figure stood—Princess Gracelyn, Solina’s and Soleil’s half-sister and the daughter of the Peony Consort, Lady Madeleine. Gracelyn, at seventeen, shared none of the fiery red hair that defined the Rose House; instead, her hair was a deep chestnut, inherited from their father, the Emperor. She was quieter than Soleil but no less supportive, offering Solina a comforting presence in her own way.

Gracelyn stepped forward, her soft brown eyes filled with warmth. "You truly do look like a diamond, Solina. I know this is a lot, but you’ve always been strong. You’ll be an incredible bride."

Solina’s heart tightened at the words. She wanted to be strong. She had always known this day would come—being a princess of Valoria meant that her future would be shaped by duty, by alliances made for the good of the empire. And yet, now that the day was approaching, it felt far more real, far more daunting than she had ever imagined.

She had heard the stories of Captain Levi Ackerman—Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, a man who had fought in unimaginable battles, whose reputation was one of cold, unyielding strength. The idea of meeting him, of becoming his wife, filled her with an anxiety she couldn’t shake.

Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the lace at the edge of her sleeve, her eyes still fixed on her reflection. "How am I supposed to… be a wife to someone like him?" she murmured, her voice barely audible. "He’s a soldier, a man of war. I’ve never even… I’ve never even held hands with a man who wasn’t family."

Lady Solana, sensing her daughter’s distress, stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Solina’s shoulder. "Solina, my dear," she said softly, her voice full of warmth and understanding, "you are not just anyone. You are the Diamond of the First Water. You have a strength within you that goes beyond what you see in the mirror. You may be nervous, but you will rise to meet this challenge. Just as you’ve always done."

Solina glanced at her mother, her heart aching with both love and fear. "But, Mother… what if I’m not enough? What if Captain Levi doesn’t—what if he can’t care for me? How am I supposed to live with someone who sees me only as a means to an end?"

Lady Solana’s expression softened further, and she pulled Solina into a gentle embrace. "You will be more than enough, my love. Captain Levi may be a soldier, but he will see you for who you are—kind, talented, full of passion for music and life. How could anyone not come to care for you?"

Soleil, who had been listening quietly, suddenly chimed in, her voice filled with innocent enthusiasm. "Besides, Solina, maybe Captain Levi is different from what we’ve heard! Maybe he’s actually a secret romantic and will fall in love with you the moment he sees you!"

Gracelyn chuckled softly at Soleil’s optimism. "I wouldn’t count on that, Soleil, but who knows? Stranger things have happened."

Solina smiled faintly at her sisters’ attempt to lighten the mood, but the knot of anxiety in her chest remained. The uncertainty of it all—the unknown future waiting for her in Paradis—felt overwhelming at times. She had always known that as a princess, her life would be shaped by the decisions of others, but this… this felt different. This wasn’t just an alliance. This was her life, her future, bound to a man she had never met, in a land far across the sea.

As the seamstresses continued their work, Lady Solana gently pulled away from the embrace and looked at her daughter with a mixture of pride and concern. "Solina, you’ve been preparing for this your whole life. You have the strength to face this, and I believe that, in time, Captain Levi will come to see what I see. You are not just a bride to be bartered away—you are a person of value, a woman worthy of love and respect."

Solina’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes stinging slightly with unshed tears. She wanted to believe her mother’s words, wanted to believe that this marriage would be more than just a political move. But the fear remained, gnawing at her as the days ticked closer to the arrival of the Paradis delegation.

"I hope you’re right, Mother," she whispered. "I hope he can see me as more than just a tool for this alliance."

As the fitting continued, the seamstresses bustling around her, the door to the chamber opened quietly, and one of the royal attendants entered. She bowed deeply before addressing Lady Solana.

"Your Grace, the latest reports indicate that the ship carrying the delegation from Paradis will arrive within the next few days."

The room fell silent as the words sank in, the reality of the situation hitting Solina like a wave. Her heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her chest. They’re coming. Captain Levi, the man who would be her husband, was on his way. Soon, she would meet him face to face, and her future would no longer be a distant possibility—it would be real.

Lady Solana thanked the attendant with a nod before turning back to her daughter. "It’s almost time, Solina. But remember, you are not alone in this. We will face it together."

Solina nodded, her hands clenching slightly in the folds of her gown. She had always known this day would come, but nothing could have prepared her for the weight of it. The days ahead would determine everything—her future, her life in Paradis, and whether she could find a place for herself in a world so different from her own.

For now, all she could do was wait.

The gentle hum of activity inside the fitting room was interrupted by the soft creak of the door opening. Princess Dimaria, the daughter of the Lily Consort, Lady Darcy, sauntered in, her sharp brown eyes glinting with a mixture of smugness and disdain. Her entrance immediately shifted the atmosphere in the room. The seamstresses froze in place, and Lady Solana’s eyes narrowed subtly as she watched Dimaria approach, her posture rigid.

Solina, who had been lost in her thoughts, caught Dimaria’s reflection in the mirror. Her half-sister wore a satisfied grin, her deep indigo gown perfectly tailored to emphasize her own regal beauty. Dimaria was tall, statuesque, with golden blonde hair—an inheritance from Lady Darcy—that cascaded down her back in flawless waves. She had always been the embodiment of elegance, but beneath the polished exterior, Solina knew her heart was full of jealousy and bitterness.

“Well, well,” Dimaria began, her voice dripping with feigned sweetness, “look at you, Solina. The Diamond of the First Water, finally about to leave Valoria… for Paradis, of all places.”

The way she said Paradis carried a subtle insult, as if the very notion of leaving Valoria for such a land was beneath her. She stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning Solina’s wedding gown with a hint of amusement.

“You’re marrying a captain, not a prince,” Dimaria continued, her tone full of mockery. “I suppose you’ll no longer need that title of Diamond once you’re gone. After all, who in Paradis would care about a jewel like you? They probably don’t even know what real wealth looks like.”

Solina’s grip on the folds of her gown tightened, but she remained outwardly composed. Dimaria’s words didn’t surprise her. For years, the rivalry between the Rose House and the Lily House had played out in whispers, glares, and subtle insults. It was no secret that Dimaria coveted the title of Diamond of the First Water, something Solina had never even wanted in the first place.

Soleil, ever the protective sister, bristled at Dimaria’s words, stepping forward with a frown. “You don’t have to be so rude, Dimaria. Just because Solina’s leaving Valoria doesn’t mean—”

“Soleil,” Solina interrupted softly, placing a calming hand on her sister’s arm. Her eyes remained on her reflection, watching Dimaria through the mirror. “It’s fine.”

Dimaria’s grin widened slightly at the sight of Solina’s calm response, clearly expecting a more defensive reaction. “Oh, dear sister, I’m not being rude. I’m just stating the truth. You’re leaving the comforts of Valoria, of our family, to marry a man who’s… what? A glorified soldier? A captain in some backwater country? I can’t imagine how delightful that will be.”

Lady Solana’s eyes flickered with restrained anger, but she remained silent, allowing Solina to handle the situation. Gracelyn, standing off to the side, watched with quiet concern, sensing the tension in the room.

Solina took a deep breath, turning to face Dimaria fully, her expression calm and measured. “It doesn’t matter to me if Captain Levi is a prince or a captain,” she said evenly. “What matters is how he treats me. I’ve spent my life being seen as a prize—the coveted Diamond of Valoria, the perfect princess. But that title? I never asked for it.”

Dimaria’s smug grin faltered slightly, though she quickly regained her composure. “Oh? So now you’re pretending you don’t care about the title that’s made you famous? Don’t tell me you’re trying to downplay what everyone else knows—you’ve always been father’s favorite, and now you’re running off to some distant island, leaving everything behind. How tragic.”

Solina’s chest tightened, but she remained steady, her voice clear and firm. “If you want the title of Diamond, Dimaria, you can have it. I’ve never wanted it. All it’s ever done is put pressure on me to be something I’m not. Moving to Paradis means I won’t be defined by that title anymore. I’ll be free from the expectations, free from being treated like an object for others to admire and use.”

For a moment, silence filled the room. Dimaria’s eyes narrowed as she realized that her words hadn’t had the intended effect. Solina wasn’t crumbling under the pressure—she almost seemed relieved in fact, relieved by the idea of leaving Valoria behind. Dimaria opened her mouth to speak, but Solina wasn’t finished.

“And as for Captain Levi,” Solina continued, her voice soft but steady, “I don’t care about his rank or his position. I care about whether or not he sees me as a person, not as a symbol. If he can give me that, then it’s more than anything I’ve ever had here.”

Lady Solana, proud of her daughter’s poise, gave a small nod of approval, while Soleil’s expression was one of defiant satisfaction. Gracelyn, always the quiet supporter, smiled gently, offering her silent encouragement.

Dimaria, sensing that her attempt to provoke Solina had failed, straightened her posture and huffed slightly. “Well, we’ll see how long that idealism lasts in Paradis. Don’t be surprised if you miss Valoria sooner than you think.”

With that, Dimaria turned on her heel, her golden hair swishing behind her as she exited the room, leaving a lingering sense of tension in the air. As the door closed behind her, Solina let out a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly with the release of the anxiety that had built up during the confrontation.

Soleil crossed her arms, glaring at the door Dimaria had just exited through. “I can’t stand her. She’s always trying to bring you down, Solina. She’s just jealous.”

Gracelyn nodded, stepping forward to stand beside Solina. “Don’t let her get to you. Dimaria only wants what you have because she thinks it will give her power. But you’ve always been more than just a title.”

Lady Solana approached, placing a gentle hand on Solina’s back. “Your sisters are right, Solina. You’ve never needed that title to be who you are. And when you go to Paradis, you’ll be able to build a life on your own terms, not defined by anyone else’s expectations.”

Solina nodded slowly, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. For so long, she had been burdened by the expectations that came with being the Diamond of Valoria. The pressure to be perfect, to always live up to the image that others had created for her. But in Paradis, perhaps she could finally find something different—something real.

She glanced at her reflection once more, the ornate wedding gown shimmering around her. In a few days,her future husband arrive, and then soon after that, she would be leaving behind the life she had always known. And while the future was uncertain, she felt a small spark of hope that perhaps, in Paradis, she would no longer be seen as a symbol but as a person, free to live her life without the weight of expectation.

…

A few days later, the soft sound of chess pieces sliding across the polished marble board filled the Emperor’s study as Princess Solina sat across from her father, Emperor Armand Hein. The large room, adorned with intricate tapestries and the scent of freshly polished wood, was a sanctuary of peace in the midst of the grand palace. The morning light filtered through the high windows, casting warm, golden beams onto the chessboard.

Solina was deep in thought, her fingers hovering over her rook, considering her next move. Chess was a game she had played with her father since she was a child, but today, the game felt different. The weight of her upcoming marriage hung over her like a cloud, casting a shadow on even the simplest moments.

Emperor Armand sat back in his chair, watching his daughter with a soft smile. His strong, regal presence filled the room, yet there was a quiet warmth in his expression that he reserved only for moments like these. He had always cherished these times with Solina—her sharp mind, her grace, her ability to turn even the most serious games of strategy into something beautiful.

"You’ve improved, Solina," the Emperor remarked, his deep voice breaking the silence. "You’re playing more aggressively than usual."

Solina smiled faintly, her fingers moving her rook forward to capture one of her father’s pawns. "Maybe I’m just distracted," she admitted, her voice soft. "I can’t stop thinking about everything that’s coming."

The Emperor nodded, his eyes studying the board for a moment before he moved his knight, taking her rook in return. "It’s understandable. A marriage like this is not a small thing. The world will be watching."

Solina’s chest tightened at the reminder. The world would be watching. Her marriage to Captain Levi was more than just a personal union—it was a symbol of the alliance between Valoria and Paradis, a union that could change the course of history.

As if sensing her thoughts, the Emperor leaned forward slightly, his expression gentle. "Next week, we will have the engagement ball. It will be your official introduction as Captain Levi’s fiancée, and the announcement will be made not just to Valoria, but to the world. Leaders from across the continents will be present."

Solina swallowed hard, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of a chess piece. "An engagement ball…" she murmured. "It’s so public."

The Emperor gave a small, knowing smile. "I know it feels overwhelming, my dear. But it’s important to show strength, to let the world see that this is not just an alliance born of necessity, but of unity. The leaders of many nations will attend, some with curiosity, others with envy. Valoria’s strength, and Paradis’ resolve, will be on full display."

Solina nodded, though her heart felt heavy. She had known her role would always involve political strategy, but the idea of being paraded in front of world leaders as part of this grand game still made her uneasy. "I understand, Father," she said softly. "I just… I hope that, beyond all the politics, there will be something real between Captain Levi and me."

The Emperor’s gaze softened as he regarded his daughter. He reached across the chessboard, gently placing his hand over hers. "I know you have your doubts, Solina. It’s only natural. But I’ve seen you grow into a strong, intelligent woman, someone who has always faced her challenges with grace. Captain Levi may be a man of war, but I believe he will see what I see in you—your kindness, your brilliance, your strength."

Solina felt a lump form in her throat, her emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. She loved her father dearly, and the thought of leaving Valoria—leaving him and the rest of her family behind—was harder than she had anticipated. "I’ll miss you," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I’ll miss Valoria. I don’t know if I’m ready to be without you."

The Emperor stood, moving around the table to stand beside her. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes full of warmth. "And I will miss you, Solina, more than you know. But Valoria will always be your home. You are free to return whenever you wish. And I will make efforts to visit you in Paradis as well."

Solina smiled softly, feeling a small sense of comfort in her father’s words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I just hope I’ll find my place there."

The Emperor pulled her into a gentle embrace, resting his chin atop her head. "You will, my dear. You’ve always found a way to shine, no matter where you are."

The moment of peace between them was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. The royal secretary, dressed in the formal robes of his station, stepped inside, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, Princess Solina," he began, his voice steady but urgent. "I have just received word—the ship from Paradis is approaching the harbor. Captain Levi Ackerman and the delegation will arrive soon."

Solina felt her heart skip a beat, a wave of nervousness washing over her. She had known this moment was coming, but hearing that the Paradis delegation was so close made everything feel even more real. Captain Levi, the man who would become her husband, was almost here.

The Emperor nodded, his expression shifting back to his usual composure. "Thank you, you may go," he said to the secretary, who bowed again and exited the room.

Turning back to Solina, the Emperor placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "It’s time, Solina. Captain Levi and the others will be arriving soon. We’ll meet them together."

Solina’s heart pounded in her chest, but she nodded, her resolve hardening. This was her duty, her future, and she would face it with the same grace and strength she had always shown.

The Emperor smiled at her one last time, before leading her out of the study and down the grand hallways of the palace. The preparations for the Paradis delegation’s arrival were already in full swing, and soon, Captain Levi Ackerman—the man whose name carried the weight of a legend—would be standing before her.

As they walked, Solina’s mind raced with questions, uncertainties, and hopes. Would Captain Levi be as cold and distant as the stories suggested? Or would there be something more, something she could connect with? Only time would tell.

For now, all she could do was breathe, stay calm, and trust that, somehow, she would find her place in this new life that awaited her.

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