#elias want any cousins?

[lil-binuu]

james is such a girl dad

[lil-binuu]

He can have mine 🤭

Thank you for answering my question about the ages of Warden, Tara and James.

I just have one more..........is James single or is he married? Does he have kids?

Thank you!

James is single and has no kids.

[beeapocalypse]

haunted once more by a dumb character idea

[vibinginthedreamlands]

Now that we're getting to see universal doubles, not to sound crazy, but I need to see Elias Bouchard alive and well. Like, the *real* Elias Bouchard. It's very important to me that the pothead, weed sock, minimum wage, trust fund, bad at his job loser gets to be alive and well. I want him to be mentioned by Gwen or run in to at most as like, a cousin or brother. But that's it. Then he gets left alone. Never encountered again. Any inevitable this-world apocalypse forgets about him and leaves him be and he gets to walk through it like Martin with Annabelle and the artifact. Let him not be eyeball murdered, please, for the love of all that is high

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 2 | chapter 3

The crowd had gotten louder the moment you opened your eyes, squinting at first against the sun. You wanted to shield your sight but with your hands tied behind your back, all you could do was wiggle your head to the opposite direction. And when you looked to the sides, there Cersei stood, her lips curved into an evil smile, along side her son, King Joffrey. The sound of a man grunting beside you made you turn your head. A masked man was pulling some kind of rope beside you. Your eyes followed where it leads, ending on a machinery located on top of you. It only took you a second to figure out it was a guillotine.

Thwak!

You abruptly woke up, grasping your neck as if on instinct if it was still connected to your body. You weren't scared to die, not for now, anyway. But you'd have a far chance getting killed from drowning rather than execution.

It was only a harmless threat, you thought. Cersei was known for it. And even when you knew what you were getting to in the end, it couldn't hurt you a little less to try, that maybe the endless looks you get from Cersei during dinners and passing meant something other than distaste.

Sleep was hard to get by after that. With nothing else left to do, you decided to wake up for the day.

Oberyn and Ellaria were still fast asleep so you tried to find food for breakfast. And if luck permitted you, you might bumped into the Queen herself.

It was not the Queen you met by the courtyard near the Kitchen's Keep but Tommen, her youngest son. It appeared he was chasing something that scurried further away into the bushes.

When he didn't see you standing behind him, he bumped into your chest. "Apologies My Lady, I was just chasing my cat."

"No worries, My Prince," you greeted back as you bowed. "In fact, I saw him running towards those bushes. I'd help you, if you'd allow it."

"Please, I don't want to bother-"

"Nonsense," you said, then you and Tommen crouched unto the dirt and began looking for his cat. Fortunately, a sliver of gray caught your eye before it jumped to the nearby fence.

"Got you," you said as you caught the furry cat, brushing its fur as you returned it to a smiling Tommen.

"Thank you, My Lady," he said.

"Does it have a name?"

"Ser Pounce."

"An honorable name."

"Do you think so? Joffrey doesn't think so," he said sadly. "He always says he'd kill him and make me eat it."

"I'm sure he's only kidding, My Prince," you said, though you didn't doubt Joffrey wouldn't do it. "If you need any place for him to hide for the meantime, you can always ask me."

Tommen smiled from ear to ear. And that was when you finally noticed you two weren't alone.

"It's time for breakfast, Tommen," Cersei called, her hands tightly clutching against the post. The Queen possessed a kind of beauty no one could compare. And you were completely enamored.

"Your Grace," you greeted, bowing your head.

"Coming, Mother!" Tommen answered before turning back to you. "Would you like to join us for breakfast, My Lady?"

Before you could reply, Cersei added, "I'm sure Y/N has something else to tend to this morning-"

"Of course, I'd like to dine with you," you interrupted, chuckling softly. "I feel famished myself already. Tommen here can tell me more about Ser Pounce and how he became a knight."

Tommen laughed as you walked together towards the dining hall, ignoring Cersei's warning glare she was sending your way.

Luckily, Joffrey wasn't around to join. And that meant Tommen was free to discuss with you about his cat and about the cats in Dorne. You had shared with him how you used to have a pet cat who died due to old age. You mentioned it was your late cousin Elia's cat.

"That's terrible, I don't want that to happen to Ser Pounce," Tommen said as he brushed the furry cat on his lap.

"I'm sure he'll live a long life, My Prince," you assured him. "In fact, Myrcella has also gotten herself a cat in Dorne."

The mention of Cersei's daughter made the Queen drop her spoon.

"Really? I can't wait to meet them. Mother, can we go visit Myrcella in Dorne?" Tommen asked.

Cersei could only force a smile. You didn't mean to put the Queen on the spot so you eventually changed the topic.

When Tommen had excused himself to chase after Ser Pounce, who suddenly jumped from his lap to chase a mouse, the air in the room grew thick.

"You seem to have gotten close to my daughter," Cersei began, after sipping her wine. "I'm glad hospitality is still being practiced in Dorne nowadays."

You smiled at her. "Yes, Your Grace. Myrcella's a bright girl, kind and exceptional. I loved having her around when we're reading scrolls about the night sky and the history of Dorne."

"She doesn't need to know the history of Dorne, when she'll be back to the Capital once she's of age," Cersei said.

"Well, Myrcella always seems curious. And there's no harm seeking more wisdom when there's nothing left to lose."

There was utter silence as you both continued to eat.

"She misses you, Your Grace," you said sincerely. This softened the Queen's stature. It even brought a little smile on her face.

"Mm, we do send each other letters from time to time," Cersei answered.

"You know no words would be tantamount to physical presence-"

"Are you suggesting I should visit Dorne?" Cersei asked, chuckling.

"Why not, Your Grace? I, myself, could give you a tour."

Cersei laughed softly. And it was the kind of laugh that didn't sound evil. It was a genuine one. A soft one. One that's full of longing.

The conversation went on as you both talked about Dorne, about Myrcella, about Cersei's travels when she was young, how being a Queen caged her from exploring and how she once had a dream she had a boat of her own and she'd be the captain.

It only ended abruptly when Jaime arrived, setting his helmet on the dining table rather loud and harshly, as if he was intentionally interrupting your conversation.

~~~

Later that night, Tywin held a small dinner for the guests. You would have enjoyed it, however, the sight of Cersei and Jaime rather close together only made your stomach churn with spite.

And there was King Joffrey, boastfully showing off the wild boar he had caught earlier that morning. You knew he had ordered a servant to do that for him. You were about to counter his speech but decided against it, remembering how you had promised to control yourself around Cersei's first son.

The only time you couldn't pretend to be happy were the times Cersei was with Jaime. Jaime came back a week ago with a decapitated hand. You felt pity for the man who had suffered being a hostage by the Starks yet you couldn't help feeling bitter whenever he and Cersei had gotten close.

You knew the rumors. Drunk Tyrion even confirmed it one night you accompanied your cousin in certain brothels. That Cersei was truly involved with her twin brother Jaime. That the King was not the true heir. Even Myrcella. Or Tommen.

You decided to ignore them when you could still control yourself. One wrong comment from you would make your nightmare come true.

And then there was Ser Loras Tyrell from Highgarden, brother of the bride to be Lady Margaery, the one Cersei is arranged to be married.

This made you feel more hatred as if you had any right at all.

Cersei was staring outside the window alone with a glass of red wine in her hand when you noticed Loras approached her. She immediately dismissed him the soonest he opened his mouth to talk before she went to watch by the next window instead.

The disappointment on Loras' face brought comfort in yours.

This was the time you finally approached Cersei.

If she'd dismissed you like the way she did to the poor guy, it was probably a sign from the heavens to give up on pursuing after her.

"Your Grace," you greeted, bowing your head before standing beside her by the window. The celebration had spread outside the Red Keep, where you could see a couple of people drinking loudly and yelling outside their houses.

"Parties in Dorne are different," you commented. "It's lively and thrilling."

Cersei snorted before she sipped her wine, her eyes still on the horizon. "And what of the Capital?"

"It's dark and dull, the complete opposite to be honest, but I mean no offense, Your Grace," you replied.

"If it was such a bore to you, why bother come?"

You smiled. "And miss this chance to meet you, Your Grace? I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world."

Cersei's cheeks flushed but your eyes could only be imagining it for the torches inside the castle could be playing tricks on you.

She licked her lips before speaking, "What do you want?"

"What?"

"You've been certainly making it your priority to catch my attention," she went on with disdain in her voice. "Sparing with Joffrey, getting close with Tommen and Myrcella. Is it Tommen you want? I'm sure Dorne won't tolerate such a thing."

It made you laugh. "I believe you're right, Your Grace."

Cersei chuckled darkly. "I'd better be dead before I'd allow your marriage to my youngest boy."

You quickly shook your head, still laughing. "No, Your Grace. It was just to catch your attention."

"To what end?"

And you only stared at her as if you had nothing else to say.

She scoffed, suddenly realizing. "You must be out of your mind. In fact, I believe you want to get yourself killed."

"Dorne is amazing," you reasoned. "In fact, richer and more powerful than Highgarden. And we all know Ser Loras is a pillow biter. And. . . Myrcella already loves it there in Dorne-"

"I don't think you have noticed one wrong physical aspect. How would you even gift an heir to my father?"

You smiled. "Trust me, I have no problems with that, Your Grace. I'm sure the rumors about me have also spread upon my arrival."

Cersei only fell silent as her eyes quickly darted to your crotch back to your face before gazing out the horizon.

"If you think I'd entertain such a ludicrous idea then I suggest you guard your doors at night because I myself will slice off your tongue. You're not even a known Martell. What makes you think degrading myself to your level would even be a fair comparison as to marrying Loras?"

"Forgive me, Your Grace." You bowed, hurt upon the admission. "I didn't mean to offend-"

"Offend? You insulted my family name."

"Cersei, a word?"

Both of you turned to Tywin's voice.

"Apologies My lady Y/n, I have something to discuss with my daughter."

"Of course, Lord Tywin," you said, then you looked at Cersei, avoiding her eyes. "Your Grace."

[12freddofrogs]

Post-canon oneshot; gen; a family discussion which does not end with any assassinations, which is potentially a new record

Tarvek dropped the pile of papers on top of Martellus’ desk, picking up the ink pot in the same gesture to avoid it spilling.

Martellus’s quill (because of course the man still used an actual feather quill; he was too theatrical to be practical and Tarvek couldn’t even mock him for it because Martellus absolutely knew about Tarvek’s own collection) paused in midair where he had been in the middle of working. “Good morning, cousin.”

“Good morning.”

“And what’s this?” Martellus took his ink pot back to rest his quill in it.

“You tell me.”

Martellus picked up the first page, flipped through the second, and then rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so suspicious.”

“I don’t know whether I’m more offended you thought a fake wall with such an obvious trigger was enough to keep it hidden, or that your newest plan to assassinate me involved framing Cousin Elias.”

“That shelf isn’t where I keep any actual secrets; it’s just meant to be a convenient place to keep things in reach.”

“Right, the real secret desk is attached to the third storeroom on the second level, with the switch at the eighth brick to the left.” Tarvek waved his hand dismissively, and was pleased to note the flicker of annoyance in Martellus’ face. Good. “That’s not my point. Elias is an idiot.”

“Which is why he makes an excellent scapegoat.”

“Hardly a believable one.”

“It’s not like I would want to sacrifice Uncle Kurt to the Heterodyne’s vengeance.” Martellus rolled his eyes and started rearranging his papers back into order. “I’m not currently planning to have you assassinated.”

Tarvek raised an eyebrow and gestured at the papers.

The thing was, Tarvek had willingly walked into the Refuge of Storms. He and Martellus needed to make some normal, ordinary negotiations about the current treaties, and Tarvek had agreed to go visit.  Martellus hadn’t actually tried anything in the year since they broke the time stop over Mechanicsburg, and although there had been the usual stream of assassins Tarvek was reasonably sure none had been from this specific cousin. They were almost getting along.

Well, the wine at dinner last night had been drugged, but to be fair Tarvek had also mixed his own poison into Martellus’s slice of an actually delightful cake. It would have been almost ruder not to have at least one poisoning. Neither had been a serious attempt.

Martellus sighed. “I’m concerned that you might have an actual accident one day.”

“Were you thinking an experiment gone wrong or perhaps a slip and fall down the stairs?”

“Either. Any. I’m not being euphemistic; I mean accident.”

Tarvek frowned. “What?”

“They happen sometimes.” Martellus spread his hands in exasperation. “Have you ever actually looked into Aunt Cathrin’s death?”

“Why bother? That was clearly Natalia’s —” Tarvek trailed off as he realised what Martellus was implying. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“You think her carriage genuinely just—”

“It has been known to happen.”

“But Natalia—”

“Genuinely mourned her.”

“You can mourn someone and still have them killed!” Tarvek protested. “She had the most to gain!”

“Firstly, the fact that someone else gained more doesn’t mean that the person with the second-most to gain couldn’t have done it,” Martellus said, infuriatingly condescending. “Or third, or just a petty grudge.”

“That I’ll concede, but—”

“And secondly, sometimes the carriage wheels are genuinely made badly, and a driver just happens to hit a pot hole at an unfortunate angle.”

It was indeed possible, but Tarvek was having trouble – although, Natalia had seemed genuinely distraught, and he remembered thinking at the time that he’d never considered her a good actress. Maybe he should send her a box of chocolates or something.

“But thank you for demonstrating my point so clearly.” Martellus tapped at the paper. “In our family honest accidents, as rare as they are, are not actually believed.”

“So you decided to frame my hypothetical, accidental death on Elias in order to—” Tarvek left the question open.

“I’m concerned that if you were to fall down the steps tomorrow, the Lady Heterodyne would methodically go through the family, one by one, removing organs and testing creative death rays, until she found someone she believed the culprit. And, unfortunately, I would be the top of the list.”

“Don’t be silly, cousin. It’s Wulfenbach who keeps torturers on his payroll, and unlike Agatha, his rooms remain in perfect working order,” Tarvek said, as if Agatha’s dungeons were not kept well prepared at all times. It wasn’t like she wanted it.

Martellus shook his head. “I’m sure between the two of them they would very successfully wipe out the entire Valois line.”

“Unlikely. Agatha likes Violetta.”

Martellus wrinkled his nose, probably irritated at the image of Violetta as the last surviving heir of the Storm King. Violetta would probably stab him for that, as if she also wouldn’t be horrified at the idea. Tarvek had once offered to help her figure out where she was in the line of inheritance, and she punched him enough times he’d burnt the calculations he’d already finished. Somewhere in the seven hundreds, although he hadn’t added the new children born since then.

The whole concept was amusing, but unrealistic. Despite everything Martellus had been around for, he’d never actually gotten to know Agatha – or maybe he understood she believed in justice, but Martellus himself didn’t fully understand what justice meant. If Tarvek died tomorrow, Agatha and Gil probably would go on a rampage to find who did it, but they wouldn’t kill anyone without proof.

He could explain that to Martellus, but Martellus having a vested interest in Tarvek staying alive was so much more useful.

“Don’t frame Elias. Aunt Henriette is a far more realistic choice.”

“Aunt Henriette has the subtlety of a rampaging construct with rayguns for arms; how is that more realistic?”

“Or, currently, the Countess of Mount Peuckert.”

“You can’t use this as an excuse to have your enemies dealt with post-mortem.”

“Why not? By definition my current enemies are the most likely to have me assassinated.” Tarvek smiled, mostly because he knew it would annoy Martellus, and turned to leave. “And I already sent a message to Agatha that you were planning to assassinate me and frame Cousin Elias, so I doubt he’s that believable anymore.”

“What?” Martellus stood up abruptly, barely catching his ink pot before it fell.

Tarvek plucked the quill from the desk for absolutely no reason other than Martellus couldn’t stop him. “I’ll go send her an update, shall I?”

“Yes. Now. Do that.”

Tarvek raised an eyebrow.

Martellus scowled. “Please.”

“Since you asked nicely.”

Martellus waited for Tarvek to leave the room before slamming his head against the back wall.

Tarvek, paused outside the door as was his usual habit, had to bite back the urge to laugh.

He really did need to write that letter. The Refuge of Storms was close to Mechanicsburg, and it would take no time at all for a horde of Jägermonsters to arrive. Tempting as it was to let them get close enough for Martellus to see, that seemed more likely to terrify the castle staff.  Not to mention it would waste Agatha’s time.

Although it was nice to consider that next time Martellus started testing the boundaries or generally being obnoxious, Tarvek merely needed to fake his own death. He’d tell Agatha and Gil first, of course, they’d never forgive him if he didn’t, but they would love the chance to act the avenger. Martellus would realise it soon enough, but the lie didn’t need to last to give Martellus nightmares. If Tarvek planned it well enough, he could probably get one of his spies in the same room when Martellus heard the rumour to get a picture. Maybe come up with some excuse for it to be Violetta, she deserved it. Though she might prefer to stay with Agatha so she could help with the potential threatening. Tarvek could workshop it later.

[witchybitchycrybaby]

A secret so sweet

Davos Blackwood x Aeron Bracken

Warnings: none except this being a tooth rotting fluff, Davos is so in love

Words: 2k

✨✨✨

The meadow at the boundary of House Blackwood and House Bracken lands was a place that held many secrets.

And most important of all of them was Davos Blackwood's and Aeron Bracken's secluded meeting spot. Nobody ever really went there; in truth, not many people even knew of the meadow. Except these two boys, of course.

For it was here, under the cover of ancient trees and blooming wildflowers, that they had found solace in each other’s arms, safe to do whatever, not caring about a thing in the world.

On this particular afternoon, the air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of insects. Davos and Aeron lay together on their cloaks in the grass, Davos with his head on the other boy's lap. He hummed with content every time Aeron brushed his fingers through his dark, unruly hair.

Davos couldn’t take his eyes off Aeron; maybe it was because of the dreamy smile on his lips, or the love and affection in his gaze. Maybe it was the way in which the sun caught in his golden hair, making him look like an angel. Davos' very own angel here on earth.

Gods, wasn't he just the luckiest man alive.

“You’re so beautiful,” Davos whispered, his fingers gently tracing the line of Aeron’s jaw. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Aeron smiled, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "And you're incredibly cheesy as of late. What happened to your dark, impulse demeanor, hmm?"

"Well, it so happens that I'm in love," Davos said and leaned on his elbows to be closer to Aeron's face. Their lips brushed ever so slightly, sending electricity through their bodies, when he added, "I'm utterly, helplessly and completely in love with you, Aeron Bracken."

Aeron's breath hitched in his throat at the confession, and blush grom earlier turned into a more crimson shade. "Oh, you're such a sap, Blackwood," he whispered and crushed his lips against Davos'.

At first the kiss was hungry and fierce, burning bright like fire. There was urgency and desperation in it, as their hot breaths mixed together. Davos reached his hand and rested it on Aeron's neck to keep him even closer. He, in turn, pressed his hand on the small of the other boy's back, making Davos arch into him.

Davos was on fire. It was like an inferno, and only Aeron had the power to make him feel it; no one else had ever ignited this kind of flame within him. Every nerve in the dark-haired boy's body responded to his lover's touch, making his body sing only for him.

When they finally broke the kiss, both of them moaned at the lack of contact. Davos' hand moved from Aeron's neck to his cheek, softly caressing the skin there.

"Is it even legal to kiss someone like that?" Davos whispered. He really wasn't sure if his voice would crack, not when Aeron looked at him like that.

"Only if you're ready to commit the crime again."

As Aeron leaned in again, wanting nothing more than to feel Davos against him, they heard rustling nearby. They froze, their hearts beating and panic flashing in their eyes. As they heard more rustling, they quickly pulled apart, breathless and startled, only to see Davos’ younger cousin, Elias. The ten-year-old stood at the edge of the meadow, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Davos? There you are!” Elias called, stepping forward.

Davos felt his heart sink. He felt overwhelming need to shield Aeron's body with his own, hiding him from his cousin's eyes. It was, however, a bit too late for that now. “Elias, what are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice shaky.

The young boy tilted his head, looking between Davos and Aeron with innocent curiosity. “I was looking for you. Mother said you were supposed to help with the horses. But… who’s this?” He gestured to Aeron, who was also standing now, his face pale with fear.

"Um, this is... This is Aeron," Davos stammered, his mind racing to come up with any kind of excuse. "He's... a friend."

Elias' grin widened. "A friend, huh?" he said, a knowing glint in his eyes. "You two looked pretty cozy for just friends."

Davos felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Elias, it's not what it looks like," he tried to explain, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue, but the younger boy wasn't listening.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Elias asked as if he didn't hear his cousin, his tone full of innocent curiosity.

Davos felt as if the ground under his feet opened up and threatened to eat him alive. His heart hammered in his chest and he couldn't help but to shot a quick, panicked glance at Aeron. He looked so scared and Davos wanted nothing more than to shove his cousin in the bushes and make him promise to never tell anyone. He'd use violence if it were necessary.

But then little Elias said something that made Davos' mind stop in it's tracks: "It would be really cool if he was. You two look nice together."

For a moment, the world stood still. Davos stared at Elias, dumbfounded, as if the boy had just spoken in a foreign language. Aeron, too, looked equally stunned, his wide eyes reflecting the same disbelief that had Davos in its grip.

"It's... We are... We..." Davos stammered, not really sure what he was supposed to say.

"Yes, we are, kind of, together," Aeron said, saving him from further embarrassment. He then placed a hand on Davos' shoulder reassuringly. The feeling of the truth being finally spoken out loud was almost dizzying.

"Kind of?" Elias rised his brow in question. He then glanced at their cloaks lying on the grass and his mind connected the dots upon seeing the characteristic pin in the shape of House Bracken sigil. "Are you a Bracken?"

Davos could feel the frustration boiling in him. It's over; Elias will tell everybody and they'd be done for. He couldn't even imagine the severity of the punishment that will be imposed on them. He stopped breathing when he realized that his own cousin just put Aeron in danger. Oh, when he gets this little shit in his hands...

"I thought Brackens were supposed to be mean and dangerous. But you don't look mean and dangerous," Elias said looking at Aeron with his head cocked to the side.

Davos swallowed hard and glanced at Aeron for help. Any help. This couldn't be real, right? He was just dreaming right now, nuzzled into his lover's side, and this nightmare just conjured up to scare the hell out of him.

But Elias just shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I don’t care,” he said simply. “I’m just happy that you’ve found someone who loves you, Davos.”

Davos faltered, but Aeron's strong hands held him still. This was too much excitement for one day. The relief that washed over Davos was quickly followed by a new wave of anxiety. “You can’t tell anyone,” he said urgently. “No one can know about this.”

Elias nodded solemnly. “I won’t tell,” he promised. “I swear.”

One of Aeron's hands found it's way to Davos', intertwining their fingers. “Thank you, Elias,” he said softly, squeezing his lover's hand. “It means a lot to us.”

Elias beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “Can I stay with you?” he asked. “I want to get to know Aeron better.”

Davos hesitated, but Aeron shot him a quick glance and once again squeezed his hand. “Of course you can,” he said. “I’d love to get to know you too, Elias.”

They sat back down in the grass, Elias setting down between Davos and Aeron. The younger boy looked up at Aeron with wide, curious eyes. “So, how did you and Davos meet?” he asked.

Davos groaned internally, but Aeron just smiled. “We met in the forest,” he said. “We were both out patrolling the boundaries, and we ran into each other. We started talking, and… well, it just happened.”

Elias nodded, satisfied with the answer. “That’s nice,” he said. “Davos doesn’t talk about his feelings much, but I can tell he really likes you.”

Davos felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Elias,” he muttered, trying to keep his composure, “you don’t have to say everything that comes to your mind.”

Aeron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I think it’s sweet,” he said, nudging Davos with his elbow. “It’s good to know get to know some more about you."

Davos groaned, out loud this time.

Elias grinned, clearly enjoying the situation. “Davos is always so serious,” he said in a conspiratorial tone to Aeron. "And doing some silly things too. You should have seen him when he tried to impress a girl by climbing the tallest tree near Raventree Hall. He got stuck halfway up and had to be rescued by Benji!"

Aeron burst into laughter, the sound warming Davos' heart. He then looked at him with a mix of affection and amusement. "This does actually sound like something you would do."

Davos buried his face in his hands, feeling his ears burning. “Elias, you’re going to make him think I’m a complete fool. Why do you have to bring that up?”

Elias giggled with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Because it's funny! And because Aeron should know all sides of you."

Aeron wrapped an arm around Davos' shoulders, pulling him close. "I love hearing more about you," he said softly and kissed him on the cheek. "Even the embarrassing parts."

Davos peeked out from between his fingers, meeting Aeron's eyes. The genuine love he saw there made his breath hitch in his throat. "You do?"

"Of course," Aeron reassured him and leaned in to kiss him again. "I actually find them adorable. It’s all part of what makes you, you."

Elias watched them with wide eyes, clearly fascinated by the display of affection. "You really love him, don't you, Aeron?"

Aeron looked at the younger boy with a gentle smile. "More than anything," he answered once his gaze came back to Davos' face.

Davos felt his heart beating faster. He didn’t care if Elias embarrassed him in front of Aeron. All that mattered was that Aeron was here, by his side, loving him despite his flaws.

As the sun began to set, Elias didn't stop talking and shared with Aeron most of the stories from Davos’ childhood, much to Davos’ embarrassment and Aeron’s delight. “Did you know,” Elias said with a mischievous grin, “that Davos once tried to ride a sheep? He thought it would be faster than a horse.”

Aeron shook his head, his laughter echoing through the meadow. “I can just imagine you chasing after that sheep.”

Davos couldn’t help but smile, despite his embarrassment. “I was just a kid,” he protested weakly.

"A kid with great ambitions," added Aeron smiling brightly at his lover.

Elias smiled, satisfied like a proud mother. “I think you two are perfect for each other. Even if Davos is a bit stubborn sometimes.”

As the evening wore on, the three of them lay back on the cloaks, watching the stars come out one by one. Elias had fallen asleep, his head resting on Davos’ shoulder. Aeron snuggled close to Davos, their fingers intertwined.

“You’re amazing with him,” Aeron whispered, his breath warm against Davos’ ear. “He adores you.”

Davos smiled, pressing a kiss to Aeron’s forehead. “And I adore you,” he said softly. “I’d do anything for you, Aeron. No questions asked.”

Aeron smiled, his eyes shining with love. "Just love me," he said simply. "That’s all I’ll ever ask."

"In case you haven't noticed already," Davos chuckled. "I love you with every beat of my heart and every breath I take."

As they lay there in the meadow, wrapped in each other’s arms, Davos knew there was no greater joy than loving Aeron, no greater happiness than being loved in return. His heart, his soul, his everything belonged to the boy who had stolen his heart and made him whole.

[sapchat]

The Lord's Daughter

Cassian x Devlon!Reader

Synopsis: You’re Lord Devlon’s daughter, which definitely won’t cause any issues. Right? Fluff and Angst

Warnings: Devlon, misogyny :D, abuse, wing clipping, also you’re somewhat of a housewife because I read to many stories of people that end up with Cassian, Azriel or Rhys where they want to train and be strong. You can be strong and take care of a house, fuck that fighting shit. Also, I use female terminology, but you could read it as a more feminine male, FtM or even MtF if wanted.

Words: 7.6k

The High Lord was coming to the house for a meeting, and then dinner. Father stated they were to talk about the camp, what the High Lord wanted to change, to talk about the girls training. Father stated it was because ‘that bastard general of his’ has reported once again the girls aren’t training. The other lords of Windhaven have all agreed that the girls can train just after their chores.

The only issue with that is the males of camp have just been giving us more work. So where I used to have time to myself to read, or play piano, I spend most of my day now doing chores and helping the younger girls of camp.

I don’t mind it, truly, it helps them out to do what they want. Train. I just don’t have an interest, and it’s not because my Father believes a female’s place is the house, I just don’t enjoy it. I’ve spent enough time helping patch up the warriors in the infirmary to know I want nothing to do with it.

I’d rather be a ‘housewife’ likely to the High Lord’s displeasure.

It doesn’t help that the General has been pestering all the girls lately to see why none of them are training.

It doesn’t help he pestered me before about it. Just before Rhysand became the High Lord. That thought caused me to look to my father, who had been in the sitting room sipping his whiskey.

“Father, do you know how many will be attending the meeting and meal? So, I might be prepared?” I ask, and the look on his face either turned to anger because I interrupted his thought or because of who will attend.

“The bastard lord, and his two-bastard ilk will attend. Not sure about his whore cousin.” He answered and downed his glass. Yea the anger is from the guests.

I wiped my hands on the apron I wore and untied it to set to the side, “Is there anything you’d specifically want for the meal? I can head to the butcher’s tomorrow when he opens. And I believe that the Huxley’s just finished canning and harvesting some of their vegetables for the season, I can stop and see what they have.”

“Get something from a pig. Just what they need to remind them what they are. No better than anyone else. Just nicer versions of pigs.” He poured himself another glass. Three fingers full this time.

“Pig sounds good, it’s been a little while since I’ve made a pig roast. I get some beans and potatoes to mash with it if that sounds good father.” If I’m to roast an entire pig for dinner, then I’ll have to go to the butchers early. Hopefully Elias can help bring it to the spit for me.

Father just grunted in reply, I’ll have to see what good alcohol I can find on short notice to serve. Possibly a cheap wine for me in order to get through it all.

Father was to spend most of the day showing the High Lord, the General and the Shadowsinger how the troops were, and how the girls’ training were proceeding, whilst I prepped the house for dinner. Turns out a pig roast doesn’t take as long as one would think to cook.

So, I got to spend some of my morning and afternoon outside tending to it and watching the camp show what they’ve learned. What new techniques have been taught from the war, whilst some of the girls stood to the side doing simple maneuvers like breathing or stretching.

It was strangely beautiful seeing the males move how they did. Like it was a dance whilst they were paired off, a dance that turned bloody and violet sure, but a dance nonetheless.

I tried my best to ignore the eyes of the three guests but at some points it couldn’t be avoided, and I’d quickly look away and go back to peeling my potatoes. Like a game of camp and mouse, except each time I’d glance there’d be some type of questioning look in one of their eyes. The General’s.

Whilst one of the three would pop in for a visit to the camps occasionally, I was never around. I’d just hear my father’s complaints later. With the occasional slap if it was a real grueling day. They weren’t the worst punishment you’ve received from the man. By the time it gets to the point he wants to slap he’s had a few glasses full, and he doesn’t have much strength.  

Besides he wanted me to look beautiful so he could still possibly find me a husband. Being the camp lord’s daughter did have its benefits. A pick of husbands, not that I’d get to chose but, and less beatings than some of the other women. Because whilst father would have rather had sons, he only has me. And as cruel as he can be I can say he doesn’t hate me. Detest me for not having a cock, sure.

But I am still his child.

Cauldron, part of me thinks just a little he hates he clipped my wings. He’d done it properly, thankfully. Had the best healer tend to it, so I still have functions in my wings and no real pain. Many of the girls and females in camp can’t say that. I’ve tended to many of them after the fact of how mangled their fathers make them. How they can barley even function.

The High Lord has attempted to ban wing clipping, imposing harsh punishments on those who still do it. It hasn’t stopped many of the fathers from clipping in secret. Which has caused more injuries than needed. It doesn’t help many of the males of camp beat their wives and daughters.

No wonder some many of the fae hate us. No wonder the High Lord and his friends hate coming around. Maybe that’s what the meeting is about. More changes to make to the camp. I’m sure father will love that. Something I’ll have to listen to until the next demand the High Lord makes.

I’d been so busy peeling and cutting up potatoes I didn’t see the massive imposing figure next to me. Red siphons littering his body, stature casting a shadow over my body, wings just posed enough to not be aggressive but catching my attention.

“Why aren’t you training with the other girls?” It was the General, Cassian, who had walked up to question me. And I’m shocked to find him talking with me. I’m trying to remember when the last time it might’ve been, and the only time I can think of it was around the time of their Blood Rite at a bonfire.

The war came not long after that, and then once it ended, I started taking care of the house more. Learning how to be a good wife from my mother, learning from some of the healers how to care for wounds.

“I’m peeling potatoes…” It’s the most obvious thing that I’m doing. He can see the potato in my hand, the others that had been peeled, and the skins on the ground around me.

“The girls of camp are to train just everyone else. So… why aren’t you training yourself?” He asked again, as if it’s the strangest thing in the world to not want to train. To rather cook, clean and care for a home than fight and get bloody and bruised.

“Because I’m prepping for dinner. After the meeting with the High Lord.” It’s a simple answer, one anyone should be able to guess, especially the General.

“Lord Devlon has been instructed that all girls of training age, or those that wish to, train before doing chores.”

“I know the rule Lord Cassian,” He cringes lightly at the title, “My father tells the camp of the rules the High Lord has created and has been enforcing. Believe it or not, I am not of training age nor do I want to train. I am perfectly content doing what I have been.”

The General almost seemed shocked at what I said. And just as he went to add something else, someone called him back to the others. He looked at the voice, then back to me, as if he was going to ignore them. Continue to question me; but he left.

Once he left, I took the food inside, to finish cooking it. The Generals presence reminding me of that bonfire. What the night brought, what rare fun you got to have. Before many of you had responsibilities for the real world….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If your father finds out I allowed you to go out tonight he’d have both our heads.” My mother had stated glancing hesitantly at me from over the counter.

“Well, father is going to be in meetings with some of the camp lords, and other males of camp. Hence why this party is happening tonight.” I told her, the crunch of an apple piece ending my statement from the fruit she had given me for a snack.

“You’re not going to do anything… reckless are you? Nothing to…-“

I interrupted her, “Mother I’m not going to sleep with anyone. My pureness will be intact when I leave the house and will still be present when I come back. You’ll have no issue marrying me off. Even then, you and father are still able to have children.”

My mother had walked around the counter and pulled me into her chest, kissed my head and stated, “Why would I ever try to mess up perfection?” She had always said I was the best thing she made; no other child would be able to compare.

By the time I had gotten to the party it was in full swing, liquor and ale being passed around in cups, people sneaking off to the shadows to feel or hook up.

I had just planned on seeing some of my friends, only have maybe one or two drinks, I hadn’t expected the heir to the Night Court to be there. Which meant his two shadows would be around him too, both bastard low-born males, one who fought for his place in Windhaven and slid his way to the heir’s side. The other, the one everyone says was kissed by flame and shadow, who was dropped off here by his father’s guards as a favor to whoever his mother was. Just because the Lady of Night was a family friend.

The three of them weren’t much older than I, maybe by a few years, they were nearing the age and power to compete in the Blood Rite, where many Illyrian males aim for the age of 30 to compete. The name is self-explanatory, it’s a rite of passage where lots of blood happens.

I had spotted the long-hair male, I believe his name is Cassius or along the lines, standing by the fire passing a cup of ale to another female. Brushing through the crowds, I made my way over looking at the different drink options feeling hazel eyes looking at me.

Without even looking at the person staring I ask, “Going to give a suggestion or just keep starring?”

“I mean either works for me. Which allows me to stare longer?” Cassius… Cassiel… shit what is his name…

“Hmmm… giving a suggestion allows me to sip something as you stare.” I finally turn to look at him, and realize how much taller he is. He’s standing at least a head over me, if not two heads. Maybe a head and a small head.

“Ale is always a good choice. If you’d like something harder, a whiskey mixes or rum. Something sweet, I saw someone walk by with wine earlier so that’s somewhere… Cassian by the way.” CASSIAN! That’s his name.

“Y/N, and I’m okay with ale. My mixed drinks either varies by too strong and mainly the liquor or not enough and its basically just soda.” He nods his head and takes to pouring me a cup, getting no foam in it before handing it over.

“So, Windhaven native orrrr….?” He asks, and I can’t tell if he expects to end the night in my pants or not. If he actually just wants to get to know me.

“Native, my father is one of the lords sooo. Kinda have to follow the line. Only reason I got to come tonight was the meeting.”

“Yea, that was the main reason for this soiree. Helps that the High Lord is there taking the attention off of us to do it.” My eyes widened just a little, not realizing that the Lord of the Night Court was present.

“I didn’t realize he was coming to that meeting… how do you know that, figured it’d be a bit of a secret.” I watch as he points off to the side, following his direction I see how he knows, the heir, Rhysand is against a tree. Kissing another male with a female between them.

“He’s… committed?” I don’t even know how to describe it, and whilst it wouldn’t be me… I won’t judge others. That’s wrong.

“Oh,” the sharpest grin spreads on Cassian’s face, “He’s a very committed High Lord.”

“I’m sure the Night Court will be in… loving hands?” It’s a questionable laugh, one I hope doesn’t offend him or his friend.

“He will be, he’s got plans. Hopes to make Illyria a better place. But none of that, you’re drinking with one of the next Carynthian!” He’s proud of the statement, as if knowing he’s going to win no matter what.

“Oh, you’re competing this coming spring? Are… are all three of you doing it?” It’s a simple question, one because I know my father has already complained about them signing up together. It’s somewhat nice seeing others give him a headache rather than I.

“You can bet you’re sweet ass.” My eyebrows raise as I blink at what he exclaimed, “We all plan to complete it together. We started as one, we’ll end as one.”

“That’s… sweet. To many Illyrians die during it… To much blood shed just to come out on top just to come out with bragging rights.”

Cassian shrugs as if it isn’t too much of an issue. “Everyone in this camp is out for someone’s blood. The blood rite keeps everyone… sated. It’s a way to get rid of your enemy’s or people you hate without having to deal with a punishment from Lord Dickhead. Illyria is awful anyway with how everyone gets treated, if there weren’t challenges or the blood rite, we’d never be an army. Be to busy fighting each other.”

He's right but the name ‘Lord Dickhead’ throws me off… he’s not talking about…? “Lord Dickhead?”

The biggest grin ever splits across his face, and that’s how I know 1. He’s talking about my father and 2. He doesn’t know I’m his daughter. “Lord Dickhead, Lord Devlon. He’d answer to both I think.”

It had caused me to laugh, Windhaven is a big camp so not everyone realizes that my dad is one of the lords, let alone realize I’m his daughter. We talked more that night, but Cauldron knows I can’t remember. The ale was pretty strong, and I hadn’t drunk much before. But I do remember the night ended with a sloppy kiss.

We had moved to just the outskirts of the party, and he made a comment about going to be the best warrior the camp has seen. His goal was to be a general one day. And I had made a silly little comment about me being the fair maiden and him being the amazing knight.

He told me that the knight always gets a kiss before and after saving the maiden. So, he said he earned a kiss before the Blood Rite. So, I risked it. One of the only times I ever risked my status and the ire of my father.

I pressed my lips against his, hesitantly. He cupped my cheeks in his hands, tilting his head just slightly and pressed his lips against mine a rush of heat flowing through me. My brows furrowed just as he ran his tongue along my lip and in my confusion, I followed instinct and raised my hands to cup his face.

It had been a hot, hungry rushed kiss. My first kiss, something no other male got from then on. The war came after, among a thousand other things. But it always felt like a part of my soul was missing from then on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Present~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had been so lost in my daydream I had finished the potatoes. The type of ‘blackout’ where you just rely on muscle memory and continue doing whatever you were and come back out after going “Oh I actually cooked those right and didn’t just imagine it right?”

I quickly started setting everything out on the table, laid out the glasses, with a pale of ice cubes if wanted and the slightly expensive whiskey I found set out as well.  

And just as I finished stirring the mashed-up potatoes, I heard my father lead the males in. In walked the High Lord, the Shadowsinger and Cassian. I walked into the doorway of the eating room, watching my father lead them in, the whiskey and glasses already on the table from earlier today.

My father nodded to me, seeing that everything was out for them already. He then turned to the others and nodding in my direction and three sets of eyes lay on me. Each holding different twinkles in their eyes. “I’m not sure if you all remember back from, you’re all’s youth, but this is my daughter. Y/N Devlon.”

The High Lord’s and Shadowsinger’s expressions stayed neutral, but Cassian’s eyes widened just a bit. Either from realizing that I would in fact know the rules because of me being his daughter. Or because he finally remembered who I was. 

Either way I bowed just enough to be respectful, “Hello. Dinner is ready, and I left the option of drink choices. I hope everything is to your guys’ liking.” The Shadowsinger’s gaze glanced over the table, likely trying to see if anything would be poisoned but his gaze stuck on the roasted pig sat out, glistening with juices.

As if realizing what caught the shadowsinger’s attention, the High Lord and Cassian’s attention moves to it as well. Cassian only really seemed to have an issue with it, his teeth clenched and fist slightly clenched.

The High Lord took it in stride however, “Devlon, I’m glad you remembered how much I loved a roasted pig. Did it come from the Collymore family? They still have their butcher shop don’t they?”

My father leaned over his seat, and poured himself a glass, “You are correct Rhysand, the Collymore’s still have their butcher shop, their son has helped take it over. Truly it was them to remember your love for pig. Too many of you boys I raised and sent off to remember it all.” There’s a little eye twitch in his eye at the dig. “Please sit. Let’s not let this meal go to waste.”

I helped pour glass for the males, asked if anything else was needed before being waved away by my father. Walking back into the kitchen for my own dinner, I felt eyes follow me.

My own meal was smaller, consisting of really only the sides, pork wasn’t my favorite choice of meal, especially when it came to having to look at the face of a pig while eating. I spent most of dinner trying to ignore the conversation happening one wall over.

Voices varying in differing heights as disagreements and agreements happened. Why they elected to have a meeting over a meal? I’m not to sure. Doesn’t seem like much eating is actually happening. And as the person who cooked the meal, it kind of upsets me that my work is going to waste.

I could see the little shadow join me in the kitchen as I ate. Giving me some company, granted I’m sure it’s reporting back. As soon as that thought happens, it shoots off and another replaces. At least I think it’s a different one.

I’d been so distracted by the noises from the other room and the little shadows I didn’t see the massive frame entering the kitchen from the back. I jumped a good foot when I heard him speak.

“Why didn’t you say you were Devlons’ daughter?” General Cassian.

“Pardon?” It comes out quickly, just with one breath as I stare at him. His wings flexing with a slight irritation to them.

“You know what I asked.”

“Are you talking about earlier today or when we first met?” It’s a good question. Simple enough that if he doesn’t remember then I don’t have to possibly deal with the fact we drunkenly kissed. Or I can let him have some panic for calling my father ‘Lord Dickhead’. Even if that shoe fits.

“That depends. When do you think we first met?” I just slightly narrow my eyes, then glance in the direction of the dining room and back. What’s his game? And how do I play?

I’ve grown up around these warriors. Whilst I’d rather stay at home, I can bite back. “’Lord Dickhead.”

A saccharine smirk grows across his face, a glistening white canine peaking out. “What would Devlon thing about his daughter kissing an Illyrian bastard?”

“He didn’t know. The only one who did was my mom. Maybe your friends. But I never said a thing. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“That why you don’t train? Because he’s your father and he doesn’t allow you to?” He seems almost pissed as if it’s my father not letting me train.

I finally set my fork down with my plate and glare, “If I wished to train with everyone else. I would. It’s my choice whether I do or not. The High Lord doesn’t require me to train, he just states that the girls that wish to train, do. And I don’t want to.” My wings have started to flare just lightly, likely the only amount of dominance I’ll ever show.

He glances at my wings, eyes narrowing as if now realizing that my wings were clipped. A slight growl coursing through his chest. “So doesn’t allow you to train and clipped your wings. Wonder how Rhys would feel about him breaking both rules he’s imposed.”

I pull my wings back in close and tight to my back almost self-consciously before saying, “My wings are none of your business. It especially doesn’t concern the High Lord. What I do is not any of your business either. If I wanted to train, I would.”

“It matters if the Lord of this camp is breaking the laws that have been imposed by the High Lord. Rhysand has explained in great detail what the punishments are for wing clipping, and for not allowing the girls of camp to train.” I understand they want change. I do. But the punishments he’s talking about is either a beating or death. To “prove a point” they just kill them.

We’re in silence for a few minutes, him waiting for me to bite back likely. And when he seems to think I won’t, he turns to leave. To go back to his precious High Lord, but as he hits the doorway something makes me open my mouth, “They were clipped before I met you. Even before the bonfire.”

It makes him pause, but he continues back to the dining room.

It’s a week later until I see him again. I had been walking around the farmer market the camp has. And he seemed to be walking around buying some of the food, either for a quick lunch or just to support some of the families of Windhaven.

So, being the peace maker, I try to be, I go up to him, “Hi.” Simple, if he wants, he can ignore me, or he can engage.

“Y/N. How are you?” Okay so not an immediate ‘fuck off’ so that’s good.

“I’m doing great! How about you?”

“Good.” Okay so maybe he’s just being polite.

“…What brought you to the market today.” He just glanced at me, and it’s really making me rethink trying to be nice.

“Have you been over by the Monroe stall since being back at the camps? Cade and his wife Calliope run it now. I think he did the Blood Rite a couple years after you.”

He sighs, “What are you doing?” He just barley looks down at me, an emotion in his eye I can’t pinpoint.

I just shrug, “I don’t know, I figured you’d maybe like the company. I know you’re not the most popular in the camps all considering. Plus, that first time we met we were friends,” I look down at that, “At least I think we became friends. Even if it was just for that short time! I didn’t really see you after…. And I know the second time we met it was tense, but you were eating dinner with my father-“

He cuts me off, “Whilst you were eating the bare minimum in the kitchen. Alone.”

My eyebrows furrow just lightly, “I couldn’t really eat with you guys. You were discussing camp policies. Not really a place for me.”

“Because you’re a female?”

“No, because I don’t know anything about camp policies. It wouldn’t make sense for me to be there. It’d be like if I showed up for a war meeting. No reason for me to be there.” It makes sense in my head so I would think it makes sense in his.

“That’s your home. You prepared the meal; you welcomed us into the home. You should have sat at the table and ate.”

“Can I ask something General Cassian?” It’s something I want to know. But his face makes me smile just a little.

“You can just call me Cassian; but yes.” It’s almost a grumble with how he answers.

“Why does it bother you so much? How I decide to do things with my life?” He pauses in his step as if debating something. Either to answer or to tell me.

“That night. The… night of the ki- of the bonfire.” He rephrases his statement as if remembering we’re around others of camp. As if he realizes if anyone overhears, my virtue will be in question. My reputation in the camps, ruined. “I… I know we’re older. Now. But I thought I felt something… that night. Something deep in my soul. And then you were gone, the Blood Rite happened, then the war.

Just to find out you were under my nose the entire time. Did you know that Rhys didn’t know Devlon had a wife, let alone a child. One so close in age. Let alone one who’s wings had been clipped, doesn’t train with the other girls and females of camp.”

“He doesn’t have a wife anymore. My mother died not long after the war ended. And I told you the other night that my wings were already clipped the first time we met.” I sharply turn in front of him, “Also, I didn’t realize I had to inform you who I was when we met. I don’t usually walk up to people go ‘Hi my names Y/N, my father is Lord Devlon lets go make out!’ When we met, we were nobodies. You didn’t have a title, such an important role, so many responsibilities. So, I stayed out of the way. No matter what I might’ve felt that night.”

It's like a ripple is sent out. Something in the wind has changed. But all we can do is look at one another. Both breathing slightly heavily from what’s been shared.

Cassian looks away for just a second, nostrils flaring. “Is that why you didn’t come around? Because I’m a bastard? A fatherless motherless brute with no standing?”

I scoff at what he’s trying to imply, “Why would your parents matter to me? I didn’t come around because 1. How did I know you wished me to? You were sent to the Blood Rite the night after, then the war came, Rhysand became the High Lord and you left. 2. You forget that even though my father is Lord Devlon, I am a woman, a daughter to a brute that cares more for this camp than I. I have no standing which is something I’ve accepted.”

“So, I just assume I’m supposed to sit here and believe, that even when I was not a general, you would’ve had me? Would’ve let me court you?”

“YES!” I exclaimed, the few people still wondering around the market glancing in our direction. I hold my stuff a little tighter before glancing back at Cassian’s eyes, “Come on, follow me before we get into any more trouble.”

The winged male slowly followed behind, as if he were a child that had gotten in trouble. Luckily, father was to be with the ‘troops’ and wouldn’t be at home until late. So, we would be left in peace for a bit.

“Won’t Devlon get pissed your in here  unchaperoned with a male?” He’s almost hesitant in walking into the house, as if he’ll be run off for just walking in.

“Believe it or not, even though I’d rather stay in the house and raise kids than fight, I am allowed to make my own choices. Much to my father’s anger.” There’s just the smallest smile that graces his face, it lights up as he does.

“Is that why you don’t want to train? Because you would just rather keep house than be a warrior?” It’s as if he’s finally understanding me, finally realizing that everyone wants something different.

“I’m an only child, I always begged for siblings, always played with babydolls, or played house. My mother couldn’t have anymore kids, I never truly knew why I just know she couldn’t. Because of that, I spent most of my time playing ‘mom’ with different things and people. That’s all I wanted to be… Then my mother passed away after the war, that disease that passed through the camps, remember? The dreams of a sibling kind of… shattered, unless father remarries.

Then the High Lord became the High Lord, started changing the rules of the camps, trying to make change. Think what you want about my father, I know how he seems and gets viewed, but he’s always been like that distant in his own way. Cass, I wish I was one of the females of camp that wanted to train, he’d allow it if I truly wanted to, but I don’t. It’s not something I want for me, I want to be in the home taking care of people, raising kids if I get to have them. And if that’s not something you can accept… then I don’t know if there could be an… us.” I glance up towards him, and the most heartbroken look is on his face.

“I couldn’t care less if that’s what you truly want. I only cared because I thought you were being kept from what you wanted to do. I didn’t know you truly didn’t want to train, I thought you were being forced to keep house. That’s why I was pushing for it so much, that’s why I cared.” He still has the look on his face, as if I’ve killed his mate…. Wait….

“Earlier… you said something… about the night we… kissed. That you thought you felt something… What did you mean?” It’s like a white sheet has draped over him, his tan Illyrian skin lighting to an unhealthy look.

“It-it’s nothing. Just I don’t know Y/N we were drunk, but I just feel like-“ He’s twiddling with his fingers as I interrupt him. Something I never picture the general doing, the famed Prince of Bloodshed.

“It felt like something more? Something… in the making, or in the forming?” His hazel eyes make contact with mine, an almost knowing glint in them. Like he’s already thought that’s what it was, although there’s still a look of fear.

“I’m not sure if that’s what it is. The only experience I have with mates is Rhys’ parents’… and they weren’t… the best examples. I just know that night I felt something, and ever since then it felt like something’s been missing. Until we met again, and that feeling came back.” I chew on the corner of my lip, chewing on the skin some.

“So… are we mates?” That beautiful grin is back on his face, the color her lost coming back to the usual tan.

“I think we’re mates.”

Right as he says it, as if talking about it summoned it, that beautiful golden bridge is formed between us.

It’s been almost a week since the mating bond formed between us. Something that I’ve kept away from my father, which Cass has been in full support of. He has started to buy and give me courting gifts, which I can’t tell if my father noticed and is ignoring or not. Granted I did want to put feelers out at dinner tonight.

“Father?” I hope my tone isn’t as anxious as it sounds, but I fear it might be.

“What would you like Y/N?” He asks still reading the report he has in his right hand as he eats.

“Would....” How do I approach this? “Would it be okay if someone… started to court me?” This makes him pause mid-chew, and it’s then I start to wonder if maybe he is just slightly more male than I thought, than I saw.

“Is there a male in the camps courting you? Because if so, they should be coming to me for permission. Who is it?” Okay yeah maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up.

“I don’t think it’s actual courting, I just think someone has been giv-leaving gifts for me. Just little things that usually get seen as courting gifts. I just wanted your opinion on it father.” Simple, appeasing to his pride.

“I’m not sure which game you’re playing child, but if someone does wish to court you, then the proper way is through talking with me and allowing me to approve it. Are they a respectable male? The one leaving gifts.”

He doesn’t believe he’s respectable, but he’s more respectable than the males in camp. “What if they’re my mate? I know it’s rare, but if The Mother and Cauldron wished it, would you still accept them?”

My father stops chewing once again, as if getting tired of my questions during our usual meals. “You’ve been reading to many of those books again, haven’t you? They still need to speak with me if they wish to court you. Mating bond or not.” Okay so maybe he will accept Cassian then! “But if he is not a male of good standing, then it won’t be happening. I won’t have my child marrying some bastard, mating bond or not.” Shit.

“The books bring me joy father. Something to do once I’m done with my chores.” Entice my father with the sweet words for the females of his time, where we’re happy with doing chores. Which for me I am but still.

It wasn’t until hours later when I go meet Cass that I told him.

“How’d your father take it?” He asks, wrapping me up in his arms holding me close to him. The bond thumping along our chests, even unmated and it thrives with life.

“I chickened out… Don’t look at me like that! I asked how he’d feel if someone started courting me, and he said he wanted them to come to him to ask permission. So, I asked what if they were my mate. But he said if that was the case, even so rare it is, that he’d technically allow it, unless they weren’t in ‘good standing’.” Cass lightly pushes me slightly away from him to look at me.

“So, your father’s definitely not going to allow me to court you. My mate. I knew your father hated bastards but…” He sounds upset about the fact, which is understandable.

I look up and run a finger along the length of his nose, “You could always rescue me, be the amazing knight again and me being the maiden. Take me away to the Moonstone Palace safely tucked away.” He gets some kind of guilty look on his face at the mention of Moonstone Palace.

“Is that what you’d want? For me to take you away from your father, bring you back to my home with me?” he’s sincere in his question, and I know he’d do it in an instant.

“I wanted my father to approve. I wanted him to be okay with our relationship, with our eventual mating. To be happy for me that I was able to find a male that could care for me. Mates aren’t something that happened, let alone happen in these camps. But I’d never forgive him if he tried to keep me away from you.” And I wouldn’t. He’s my father and I’d do almost anything for him, like he’s done for me, but this is a chance at my happiness.

“I’ll see what I can do, speak with Rhys about seeing if there’s anything that can be done. If there’s a loophole.” He’s sweet and doesn’t even have to do what he plans to do. Really, he could just cut his losses and move on.

The issue was we were wrapped up in each other, we never even noticed the male watching from the shadows. So, when I awoke the next day, my bedroom door locked; I didn’t know what was to happen. Was even more shocked when I found my father in the corner of my room waiting.

“Are you fucking him?” It was all he said. Just like that my loving father was replaced with the male Lord of the camp.

“What?” No, seriously, what?

“Are you fucking that bastard?”

“Father what are you talking about? I haven’t been with anyone, you know this.” Really, all me and Cass have done is kiss. Yet that little brush of question down the bond from him makes me wonder if it could be seen as more.

“It’s been reported to me that you have been seen sneaking out. Then meeting that bastard born foot solider. So, I’ll ask you again. Are you. Fucking. That Bastard.” He’s pissed, I’m pissed that someone’s followed me to him. Because this is going to fuck over whatever plans me and Cass made.

The anger on his face makes me pull on the bond and send just the smallest rush of panic down the bond. Hopefully letting him know that somethings wrong, that I might need assistance. “Father, I don’t know what someone claims to have seen but they are wrong. You know I would never do that, compromise us like that. You’ve raised me better than that.” He didn’t necessarily raise me at all, my mother did. He just kept us alive in terms of money.

“So, the male is lying to me and your telling the truth?”

“Father, you have nothing to fear. You know I am waiting for your approval and marriage. It would be unladylike of me to not have my maidenhead before being married.” It’s not a lie, I do still have my maidenhead, but I am kind of sneaking around with Cass.

Speaking of who, responds with my earlier tug, with one of his own, and a questioning feeling down the bond. I tug back almost instantly, sending back reassurance but still a little push of panic. Hopefully getting the point across I need him.

“If that is the case you won’t care for me to go get the male and question him again. See which of you are lying.” He knows something. Either there’s actual evidence of me and Cassian sneaking around, or someone is trying to screw me. I’m not happy about either.

I just shrug in response, “I just planned on cleaning up around the house today. So, I’ll be here if you wish to ask me anymore questions.” I smiled at him kindly.

I need to figure out a way to get out of camp.

My fathers’ eyes just narrow at me, before his lip curls and he leaves the room completely. Not locking the door behind him thankfully.

It was only two hours later I heard a knock on the back door; a sharp tug following after telling me who it was. Picture my surprise when I let Cass in and the High Lord and Shadowsinger follow in behind him.

I start to try and bow but before I can even attempt to Cass pulls me into a hug. “What’s going on?”

I push back lightly, “Someone saw us the other night. When we met and talked about leaving. Someone had followed. Father thinks we’ve…” I stop, and glance at the other two before finishing.

The High Lord leans against the wall, the Shadowsinger joining him, “So he thinks you’ve slept with him and thus are basically worthless in terms of any marriage deals.”

My face rushes to a heated tint, and Cassian growls in response, “Rhys.” It’s a simple command he makes. Don’t speak about my maidenhead so casually.

“Do you know who the male was that reported seeing you guys?” It’s the Shadowsinger that speaks now.

I shake my head, “No, he locked me in my room, waited for me to wake then basically came and interrogated me. Just said someone reported to him that they watched me ‘sneak out’ then followed me and saw me meet up with Cass.”

He shares glances with the Lord and Cass, before Cass asks, “How pissed is he?”

“Well, I can almost guarantee that when he comes back later after questioning that male again it won’t be a happy dinner.”

Cassian runs a quick hand down his face, and it makes me feel bad that I’m putting him through this stress. As if noticing my feelings, the High Lord speaks.

“Devlon would be pissed no matter what. The Cauldron themselves could be your mate and he’d be upset. It does slightly complicate things, but this is an easy issue to solve.”

“Rhys. Don’t insinuate my mate is an issue.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Az do you think you’d be able to intercept Devlon before he finds out to much information?” Cass asks, and before I can tell them it’s likely to late, he’s gone. Shadows hiding him away taking him… somewhere.

“Y/N, do you want to stay and see what happens or would you like to pack some stuff to leave?” The High Lord—Rhys, I guess is what I should call him now. Cass has told me enough about him I feel it’d be appropriate.

“Do you think it’s needed?” I don’t want to leave my home. It’s the home I was born and raised in, the home my mother lived and died in. The home I learned my purpose of life in.

Cassian answers instead, “Me and my brothers were talking. The three of us think it may be safer if you come with us. But… I’ll leave you with the option. The choice to see how your father reacts. We just think it’ll be safer if you come with us at the end of the day. We… we don’t know what Devlon will do once finding out we’re mates.”

I must look sad about that because Cass brings me closer, if possible, and his wings just slightly curl towards me. “He wouldn’t hurt me. He might be some type of monster but he’s still my father.”

Rhys answers for Cass, “It’s not that we think he’d intentionally hurt you, but he said it himself, he wouldn’t marry you to your mate if it wasn’t a… good match. But it wouldn’t be a happy life if you stayed. I know it’s a big ask, this is your home, all you’ve known. But I also know Cassian would be a lot happier if you were with him. Safe.”

Closing my eyes, I sigh because I know they’re right. I’d be happier in the long run with him. “I’ll go pack some things. Should I wait or just leave a note?” My voice is solemn.

Cassian and Rhys look at one another, but Cass answers, “I’d leave a note for now. We can always come back if you want to see if he’d like to make amends.”

And so, I do, I leave a simple note apologizing. Telling him that I was in fact still a maiden, even if he thinks I’m not. Tell him that Cass is my mate, and I couldn’t have a higher-ranking male as my husband. If he wishes to speak with me, he can send letters.

Other than that, I take my most prized possessions. Some of my mother’s jewelry, books, a few more odds and in’s I’ve collected in my few hundred years of living.

Then we left. So, I can be happy with my mate, and his family.

Author's Note:

This was going to be 5.6k words but last night I felt it needed just a little more angst because we all know Devlon would be pissed.

Like, comment, share/reblog.

dividers came from @firefly-graphics

DO NOT REPOST. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR THIS TO BE POSTED TO ANY OTHER SITE.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 26

PREVIOUS

Nicky can’t help but bounce his legs as they sit in the waiting room at the hospital. He’s had to leave the waiting room a couple times already because in Aaron’s effort to comfort him, and wow how far they’ve come he’s really raised Aaron to be such a thoughtful young man, the jackass has unknowingly made four more Miss Congeniality references.

This is a waiting room full of nervous families and Nicky is NOT about to be the guy who can’t stop laughing because Aaron mentioned World Peace in a snapback at Kevin.

Nicky is not going to be the one to explain FF’s jokes. He MAY already be planning a Miss Congeniality movie night. Neil, Aaron, and Kevin may not remember but ANDREW will and watching Andrew realize his friend was referencing an AMAZING movie when talking about how he took out one of the FBIs most wanted was all he wanted at the moment.

Another nurse comes in and calls out “Elias Smith?” But Wymack doesn’t get up from his seat still sipping his now lukewarm coffee. There’s been 14 different times she’s called for a ‘Smith’ family but Wymack hasn’t moved for any of them and different waiting families have gotten up to get updates and taken back to see their family members.

Maybe he wants to see Andrew’s face a little less than he wants to see FF’s right now. He has his flowers on a chair next to him and a get well soon card that he’d had Wymack also sign. He was waiting for Smith’s grandma to come to see if she wanted in on some card real estate

“Seriously, how many Smiths got stabbed yesterday?” Kevin marvels.

“At this point it’s at least 12.” Aaron remarks.

“I’m at 14 not including Smithy.” Nicky says.

“At least we’ll finally get to find out Smith’s first name.” Kevin crosses his arms and leans back heavily into the chair, “I’m hungry.” He whines.

“Yeah, at least there’s that.” Nicky agrees because not knowing FF’s name at this point made him feel like an incredibly BAD friend. Even mores than the fact that Nicky raised the man that stabbed FF last night. He turns his thoughts away from those thoughts, “You wouldn’t be hungry if you hadn’t bitched about the breakfast burritos I had us pick up.” Nicky argues.

“It was greasy! I’m already slipping on my diet after Thanksgiving and eating that pie.” Kevin argues back.

Nicky can’t help but think of Kevin as a pageant contestant in that moment.

Nicky looks heavenward for the strength not to laugh.

“Then go get something.” Aaron says from Nicky’s side, “There’s gotta be a cafeteria or something around here.” Aaron adds.

“I don’t want to go alone.” Kevin shoots back and Nicky can HEAR Aaron roll his eyes.

“Fine, whatever I need more coffee anyways. Let’s go find a cafeteria.” Aaron says getting up and Nicky looks at his cousin, “Text us if you get a room number.” He says.

“Will do.” Nicky agrees.

Then it was two.

It’s about five minutes before, “David Wymack?”

Nicky’s head shoots to Wymack and he sees the smug amusement on their coach’s face.

That motherfucker.

Nicky followed Wymack up to the doctor in question. “How’s he doing?” Wymack asks.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” The doctor says and Nicky feels his stomach sink into his toes.

***

Neil has NEVER been more relieved to be out of a car and that includes the ones Lola had him in (though that might be because being out of those cars meant he was closer to his death by way of Nathan).

Granny Smith had not spoken a word unprompted since they had climbed into the car. Granny Smith had the exact same expressionless face as her grandson did but it is only now that Neil realizes that there was always some hint of emotion on FF’s face. Neil wasn’t great at knowing exactly what those emotions were but they were there.

Granny Smith’s rage was pretty hard to miss.

“I think she knows.” Andrew had said with his hands white knuckled at 10 and 2.

“How could she?” Neil questions. “Smith’s phone fell in that toilet before he got stabbed.” He says but he can feel the anger and can feel it directed towards them.

She had seemed so nice with Paul!

Though Paul didn’t have anything to do with her grandson getting stabbed. Neil could understand how that might sour any niceness.

Neil and Andrew had pulled into the parking lot and it was only then that Granny Smith leaned forward and pointed towards the entrance.

Words weren’t really necessary then.

Before Neil could even try and trudge through offering to bring her bag to her the woman was out of the back of the Maserati and through the sliding doors of the hospital.

“Maybe…maybe she’s just like that? Smith likes to sit in silence too?” Neil tries but Andrew doesn’t say anything as he turns the Maserati into the parking lot to find a space.

They walked in only to find the receptionist looking confusedly at Granny Smith as the woman spoke in rapid Polish but was getting nowhere.

Neil watched as Andrew squared his shoulders and walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned around she the fear and anger shown through in her expression. Neil could understand in a way. FF was her grandson and considering the fact that FF had likely gotten his interest in languages from learning Polish from her?

They’re probably close.

Neil is pretty sure that normal close family members worry like this.

Almost positive.

He may not have the best examples in his own life but he has watched enough television and enough movies to start to see what might be considered normal!

Really!

Anyways…

Andrew points towards the doors that would lead them towards the elevator that they could take up to the waiting room.

Neil watches as Granny Smith visibly struggles before nodding. Andrew holds out his hand and she stares at it before Andrew points at her bag.

She blinks, looking taken aback.

“I can carry it.” He offers.

It’s a few moments of looking between Andrew’s face and his hand before she hands over her bag.

Andrew puts it over his shoulder and the three of them silently made their way up. The elevator ride was slightly less excruciating than the car ride but only just.

They got off and saw Nicky, Wymack, and a Doctor.

“…so he may not wake up.” Neil hears and watches as Andrew’s shoulders go instantly tense and Neil feels his own heart jump into his throat.

Then Nicky laughs.

“Of course he’s sleepy!” Nicky throws his head back.

“Yes, he had a high level of cortisol, that’s the stress hormone, in his blood. He should wake up either late today or early tomorrow though.” The Doctor says.

“Oh thank GOD.” Nicky says with a relieved slump to his shoulders, “You really gotta work on how you start conversations like this Doc! I thought you were going to tell me Smithy died not that he’s just going to sleep like the dead for at least 18 more hours!” Nicky exclaims before his gaze slides off of the Doctor and onto their group. “Oh!” Nicky moves past the Doctor and stops in front of them. “You must be Smithy’s grandma!” He says and offers his hand like the sweet respectable young man that Nicky absolutely isn’t.

“Nicky, she doesn’t-“

“Ty musisz być Nicky! Jesteś taki przystojny, tak jak powiedział mój kurczaczek.” Granny Smith knocks his hand away and pinches his cheek. Nicky visibly melts at the warm tonę even if he doesn’t know what is being said to him.

“Oh!” Nicky says, “I hope I don’t butcher this, Dziękuję! Uwielbiałem Pani ciasto!” He says haltingly before pausing, “Nazywa go Pani swoim kurczakiem? Jakie to słodkie!” he says but this time his enthusiasm has the language come out more smoothly.

Granny Smith seems to light up even more. “Czyż nie?”

“Nicky, since when did you know Polish?” Andrew asks brows raised slightly in shock.

“What? You two aren’t the only ones who decided to learn a cute foreign language so you could have secret couple conversations.” Nicky huffs frowning at the two of them, “Erik’s company has an office in Poland, he thinks it might be fun to try living there for a while so we’ve been learning the last year and a half.” Nicky says, “Smithy’s been such a huge help on it too!” He adds.

Neil opens his mouth, thinks about it, and closes it.

That’s fair.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

EDIT: 6/8/23: Thanks @shirlai​ for fixing my janky Polish for Nicky!

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @fuckyeahjeanmoreau @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing @bushbees  @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​ @lesbian-blackbeard​ @lesbiansupernatural​ @silvermasquerade​ @thepeachfuzz​ @minniemariex​ @kazoo-the-demjin​ @gaypomegranate​ @ji-nk-ies​ @neilimfinejosten​ @omgrubelangel​ @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice​ @percabethotplove​ @cozyrosykay​ @foxyatlas​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Also if anyone fluent in Polish wants to correct me on any of the Polish wants to correct me / sends smoother Polish please do! I am just using Google Translate for GS.

Translations:

Ty musisz być Nicky! Jesteś taki przystojny, tak jak powiedział mój kurczaczek. = “You must be Nicky! You're so handsome, just like my chicken said.”

“Dziękuję! Uwielbiałem Pani ciasto!” = “Thank you! I loved your pie!”

“Nazywa go Pani swoim kurczakiem? Jakie to słodkie!” = “You call him your chicken? That’s so cute!”

“Czyż nie?” = “Isn’t it?”

[wordsintimeandspace]

A Love Like Ours (1/5)

Martin has long been fed up with his family who's still trying to pair him off with a woman. When his cousin's wedding is coming up, Tim has the solution for him: he's going to pretend to be Martin's boyfriend. A foolproof plan, if it weren't for their feelings getting in the way. Feelings for each other—and for Jon. Meanwhile, Jon is having some kind of emotion about this whole fake dating thing, but it isn’t jealousy. Certainly not. He couldn’t even tell you who he’s jealous of. Jon/Martin/Tim, rated T, ~2.3k words in this chapter. Read on AO3!

The tape recorder finally clicks off. In the silence that follows, Jon lets out a breath of relief and slumps back in his chair. He takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. God, he's exhausted. He's been working too much this week, despite Martin's nagging and Tim dragging him out to the pub one evening, but at least he met Elias' quota of recorded statements. And it's Friday afternoon, so he nearly made it to the weekend.

With a groan Jon picks up his mug, only to find it empty. He scowls at it for a moment, and finally heaves a sigh and gets up to get himself a refill.

The Archives are quiet when Jon leaves his office. Only Sasha is at her desk, too engrossed in a book to notice him. Jon leaves her be, and turns to the break room instead.

He stills in the doorway when he catches sight of Martin standing at the counter, kettle in hand and four mugs placed in front of him. His laugh echoes through the room, bright and carefree. There's a grin tugging at his lips and his shoulders are loose and relaxed, and Jon can't help but notice, once again, how beautiful Martin is when he's like this. He's gotten a lot more comfortable around Jon these last few months, but seeing him like this is still a rare sight. It never fails to take Jon's breath away.

Martin shifts, revealing Tim sitting on the counter beside him with a matching grin on his lips. Martin hands Tim a mug of tea, and what happens next takes Jon's breath away for a whole different reason.

Tim's grin grows impossibly wide. He slings an arm around Martin's shoulder, leans in closer than is technically appropriate for the workplace and says, in his most honeyed voice, "Thanks, snookums."

Jon's mug hits the floor with a mighty crash.

Martin squeaks and flinches so hard he nearly spills tea all over Tim. He whirls around, eyes wide. All the colour drains from his freckled cheeks. Jon has no doubt he's sporting a similarly horrified expression.

"What," he rasps, "are you doing?"

"It— it isn't what it looks like!" Martin rushes to say, voice a pitch higher than usual.

Behind him Tim snorts, as if trying—and failing—to suppress a laugh. "Actually," he says, leaning forward with an eager expression. "What would you say this looks like, Jon?"

Jon blinks, incredulous. "E-excuse me?"

"Tim," Martin says, pained.

"I just want some feedback!" Tim grins, hopping off the counter to escape Martin, who looks determined to silence him by all means necessary. "Was that convincing? Not convincing? Too much? Just cheesy enough to convince Martin's homophobic family that yes, he is actually gay, thank you very much?"

"They're not homophobic," Martin protests automatically before pausing for a second. "Not all of them, at least."

Tim rolls his eyes. "Sure. That's why they still try to set you up with whatever young lady currently available."

"Tim," Martin says again, voice shaking with emotion, and Tim stills. A guilty expression flits across his face.

"Sorry, mate." He gives Martin a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning to Jon. "So. That's what we're doing."

Jon stares at them for a long moment, gears turning in his head. The puzzle pieces still refuse to connect into a picture that makes any sense. "You're… what?" he finally tries. "You're dating and playing it up to make Martin's family understand you're serious?"

Tim bursts out a laugh, while Martin's blood abruptly rushes back into his cheeks. "Not— not actually dating," he says hastily, cheeks flaming. "Just— you know. Pretending to."

Jon blinks. Understanding hits him like a freight train. A complicated feeling rises in his throat. It's big and messy and sharp, and he doesn't quite know what to name it. He doesn't want to examine it in more detail to find out what it is. "I— I see," he finally manages to get out.

Martin nervously bites his lip, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. "It's just, I mentioned to Tim before how my mum and my aunt always try to set me up, and, uh, I got a bunch of family events coming up, with my cousin getting married and all, so Tim just—"

"Martin," Jon interrupts, harsher than he intends to. "You don't need to explain. I suppose it's none of my business. But I have to request that you keep this nonsense out of my Archives. It's hardly appropriate."

Martin nods quickly, not meeting his eyes. "S-sure."

Jon nods sharply, and turns on his heels. Fleeing seems like the best course of action, before any of these messy feelings sitting heavily in his stomach burst out of him. Only when his office door slams shut behind him does he remember that he never got the tea he wanted. He curses quietly, and gets back to work.

~~~

"Well," Tim says with a wince as he watches Jon rush out of the room, "that could have gone better."

"Oh, you think?" Martin snaps. He flinches and takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Sorry. It's just… Jesus, Tim. You could have told him a little more delicately."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It ran away with me a little." Tim sighs, taking in the frown on Martin's face. "Look, we don't have to do any of this if you don't want to. It was just a spur of the moment suggestion. We can just forget about this if you prefer."

Martin heaves a long sigh. He takes his mug of tea and sinks down into a chair at the break room table. Tim watches him for a moment before sitting next to him.

"I do want to do this," Martin finally says, wrapping his fingers more firmly around his mug. "I don't know how else to make it through the wedding. I'll just start yelling if my aunt introduces me to any more friends of the bride who just happen to be single."

Tim's lip twitches. "We can't have that. Not during the ceremony."

"My cousin would murder me. Or I would murder someone. I don't know."

"Well, good that you have me to keep all of you Blackwoods out of prison."

Martin huffs out a laugh. "Thanks, Tim. I really appreciate this."

"Of course." Tim reaches out to squeeze Martin's hand, and then… Tim just leaves his hand there. Martin's skin is pleasantly warm. And, well, they should get used to this, at the very least. Tim needs to be able to hold Martin's hand in front of his family if they want to be convincing. Ideally without all of his feelings spilling out of him. Christ, he can hardly confess his undying love to Martin just because he touches him. Especially not after he just suggested that they can totally platonically pretend to be dating. Like it's no big deal.

"D'you think Jon is okay?" Martin says suddenly, and Tim can't help but wince. He takes his hand away. Because that is the whole problem, isn't it? Martin is hopelessly in love with Jon. And that's precisely why Tim needs to keep his own feelings in check, and just be Martin's friend.

"Sure," he says, as nonchalantly as he can manage. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"I don't know. You don't think he was… weird, just now?"

"I always think Jon is weird. You know, in a good way. It's endearing."

Martin laughs softly. "It is. Sorry. I'm probably just overthinking this."

Tim bites his lip, considering. He can't help but wonder, once again, if Martin might prefer to do this whole fake dating thing with Jon. They've been getting along well recently, with lots of lunch breaks spent together with just the two of them. He wonders if Jon might agree to it. He thinks he might, despite his gruff demeanour, if it means helping Martin in this particular case. But he doesn't dare to speak the idea out loud. Poor sweet Martin would surely get his hopes up if he does this with Jon and… well. Let's just say that Tim is painfully familiar with Jon's rule not to date his employees. He's just saving Martin the heartache. Even if it means heartache for himself.

"Hard not to overthink it, really," Tim finally says. "So, brunch with your family this weekend, right?"

"Uh, yeah." Martin rubs his neck. "It's not going to be a huge thing, just my mum and my aunts. And the cousins."

"Right." Tim pauses. "How many cousins are there again? I think I lost count last time you tried to explain."

Martin groans, although there is a smile tugging at his lips, and launches into the whole spiel again. Tim leans back, smiling as he listens. Whatever happens—even if this whole thing crashes and burns—at least he'll have this. Spending time with one of his best friends, helping him out of a tough spot. Tim just hopes it'll all be worth it.

~~~

About half an hour after the incident in the break room, which left Jon tragically tea-less, there is a knock at the door. Sasha pokes her head in, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. Jon sets down the statement he's been trying—and failing—to focus on for the last while.

"Ah, thank you," he says as Sasha sets the mug onto his desk.

"Credit goes to Martin, to be fair." Sasha smiles, leaning her hip against his desk. "I'm just doing the delivery."

Jon blinks, startled. Martin usually brings the tea himself. That he sends Sasha to do it is more than a little unusual. Unless, of course, Martin is avoiding him after he just snapped at him. Jon can't blame him, really. "I see. Still— thank you."

There must be something on his face that makes Sasha's smile slip. "Are you okay, Jon?" she asks softly.

"O-of course." Jon winces at how raspy his voice is and clears his throat. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I know that Martin and Tim just broke the news to you. I'd understand if you're upset about it."

Jon scoffs. "That's hardly something worth getting upset over. Besides, aren't they only pretending to be dating?"

Sasha's eyes narrow, and Jon realises with ice-cold clarity that he just made a monumental mistake.

"So you would be upset if they wouldn't be pretending?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Jon protests. His cheeks burn, and he quickly reaches for his mug of tea to hide it.

Sasha's face softens. "Look, Jon," she starts slowly. "I know you still like Tim and—"

Jon chokes on the first sip of tea. That wasn't the direction he expected. Sasha watches him, confused for a moment, before her eyes go wide. "Wait, Martin?"

"N-no!" Jon splutters between coughs. "I don't… I don't like them. No."

Sasha is so close to the truth. The truth that he tried so hard to bury deep within him for weeks now, dredged to the surface with just a few pointed questions. Jon can see it in her eyes—the exact moment she understands that the answer is not Tim, not Martin, and also not neither of them.

Jon has to look away. The expression on Sasha's face is too close to pity, and his eyes are already stinging.

"Oh, Jon." Sasha rests her hand on his. It's warm and comforting, and Jon soaks it up for a few precious seconds before pulling away.

"I'm fine, Sasha," he says with as much resolution as he manage. It's admittedly not a lot, but it also isn't nothing. At least his voice is steady, even though it feels like the rest of him is falling apart.

"It's okay if you're not. I'm here if you want to talk, okay?"

Jon lets out a shuddering breath. His chest aches. "Thank you. I appreciate it, I truly do. But it's fine. It has to be. It's none of my business what Tim and Martin are doing, even if they would enter a romantic relationship."

Sasha looks like she wants to argue, but eventually she lets out a sigh. "You're too hard on yourself. I'm just worried."

"Your concern is noted."

With a roll of her eyes, Sasha pushes herself off his desk. "Don't be a dick."

Jon winces. "Sorry. I'm not trying to be. It's just— it's been a long week."

"Then don't work too long today. I think we'll all be off soon."

"Ah, sure. I'll try. Have a good weekend, Sasha. And thank you for the tea."

"You too. Try to have some fun, okay?" With that Sasha breezes out of the room, closing the door behind her. Jon is left alone in his office, a hollow feeling in his chest.

He doubts the weekend will be very restful. He already can't stop thinking about Tim and Martin, and all the small things that fake dating might entail. Holding hands and arms wrapped around shoulders and lovingly gazing into each other's eyes. A kiss perhaps, on the cheek, or on the lips if they're trying to be really convincing. All the things that can so easily turn from fake into something solid, something real. Jon is not an idiot; and he's read enough romance novels to know how this sort of thing usually turns out.

The thought makes his chest ache. And then he feels terrible for feeling terrible. He meant what he said to Sasha—it's none of his business. He already missed his chance with Tim, back in research when they decided not to pursue a relationship any longer when transferring to the Archives. And surely he did the same with Martin, with how he treated him at the beginning when he was frustrated and overworked and out of his depth, and let it out on his poor assistants.

Jon groans. He tries hard to push all of those pesky feelings away, and gets back to work.

[hyperfixatedimagines]

Home for the Holidays Ch.1

Summary: Your family didn't take your coming out well....and instead of spending the holiday alone you join your roommate for Christmas dinner. While Aemond wishes you set your sights on his sister Helaena, your tastes skew much older. 

A/N: This is a modern!au milf Alicent x milf lover f!reader. It was supposed to be finished last December lol. It got really long so I broke it into two chapters. It will be smutty, so read with caution if that’s not your thing! Not really smut in part one though. 

A/N pt. 2: In this story two of Alicent’s cousins are her older brothers and Baela is not Helaena’s cousin. Not canon compliant.

You knew the holidays were going to be rough this year but had not anticipated just how hard seeing pictures of your family in St. Barts without you would be. 

They had not taken your coming out well. 

Sure they had promised to keep paying the tuition to your very expensive university until you graduated but that did little to soothe the hurt that their disapproval caused. Your family came from old money, some of the oldest of old in the country, and with that came old ways of thinking. They didn't care that you were gay, plenty of people in your extended family were some form of fruit, but they all stayed in the closet- at least publicly. That was what your family wanted for you as well. Anything to not tarnish their image. 

But you couldn't live that way any longer. You wanted to be free. 

To your surprise, only your estranged cousin Elia had accepted and even celebrated your coming out of the closet. 

Thankfully you had Aemond. The two of you had met in freshman history class. He argued with the professor over every historical inconsistency in his lectures and it drove the professor mad. It made you laugh though. Aemond also came from old money, so the two of you bonded over the pressures that came from families that expected you to be perfect. Sophomore year the two of you moved into an apartment off campus, and your friendship only grew from there. 

Aemond was your best friend, and you could not have asked for a better one. Aemond invited you to spend the holiday with his family. He didn’t love spending time with his family as they could be quite a lot but he always went for his mother’s sake. 

You figured it beat spending Christmas alone in your flat. 

So you got dressed in your very best and sat in the passenger seat of Aemond’s Porsche the whole drive to Oldtown. 

- 

Aemond popped another piece of gum into his mouth. “This will be a great opportunity for you and Helaena to bond,” he said as he chewed. 

You rolled your eyes. “Not this again.” 

Aemond smiled mischievously. “Come on (y/n). You can’t tell me you didn’t feel a connection when she came to visit on my birthday.” 

“I can, and I am. She’s not a lesbian Aemond,” you replied.

Aemond was convinced that his sister Helaena was a lesbian. His evidence was that she never had a boyfriend, attended an all women's university, majored in Women’s studies, and only brought home girl best friends for the holidays. 

“She talked to you that night, which cannot be said for many other people. Helaena is very selective with who she talks to. You even made her laugh (y/n)! I saw the sparks,” Aemond argued. 

You sighed and shook your head. “Even if your sister was by some miracle into women, which I want to firmly state for the record that she is not, she’s simply not my type.” 

The light turned red and Aemond’s car pulled to a smooth stop at the intersection. He turned to you. 

“You don’t have a type. I’ve seen you bring all types of women home (y/n).” 

You smirked. “Ever notice they weren’t at all our age.” 

Aemond furrowed his brows. “So your type is older women?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, like your mom for example.” 

Aemond frowned. “Dude not that again!” 

You laughed. “It’s not my fault your mom is a total milf.” 

The light turned green. Aemond focused on the road once more. His face contorted in disgust. 

“Ugh, yeah you and my mother are not something I’d like to picture.” 

You let out another laugh. “Well I certainly have.” 

This time Aemond let out a small chuckle. “Do you have the hots for my mother (y/n)? Is that why you said yes to joining us for Christmas?” 

You shrugged. “Maybe I do, and maybe it is.” 

Aemond chuckled again. “Well if you can make my white, Anglo-saxon, catholic mother do anything untoward this weekend I’ll spend the first two months of the new year cleaning the bathroom every weekend.”

Another red light. The car came to a stop.

You turned to Aemond and put your hand out. 

“Deal.” 

Aemond turned to you and shook his head. “I was joking.” 

“I am not," you replied with a cheeky smile.

“Fine, deal,” Aemond said and shook your hand. 

The light turned green. Aemond sped off once more. 

You sat back in your seat thinking of Aemond’s mother, Alicent. You had only met her via Facetime when she called to check in on Aemond. 

She was a certified smokeshow. 

Alicent was beautiful and always held herself with poise. She was dressed impeccably in every photo of her online you could find when you first cyber-stalked her. 

She had lost her husband, Aemond’s father, three years ago. 

Aemond always skirted around the topic of his father. His father, from what you knew, had never really cared for Aemond and his siblings. 

Viserys Targaryen was in his second term as the state's governor when he passed away. The Targaryens were political legends in your state. Many of their family members had been mayors, governors, state senators, and they had even managed to have an ancestor in the oval office. 

Aemond’s father had always favored his only daughter from his first marriage, Rhaenyra. He had poised her to be the city’s mayor but his death led to a falling out within Aemond’s family. According to Aemond, they had never gotten along with Rhaenyra and her family but they had been cordial while Viserys lived. 

When he died, Rhaenyra (who according to Aemond saw his mother as nothing but a gold digging whore) fought Alicent on every asset Viserys owned and vowed to leave Alicent penniless. 

Thankfully Aemond’s mother had her family by her side. The Hightowers of Oldtown were an even older political force to be reckoned with. Their wealth dated back to the very founding of the nation. 

Aemond’s grandfather, Otto Hightower, had squandered his own inheritance as a young man. It was rumored his family had cut him off and left him to his own devices after he gambled his money away. So Aemond’s mother had grown up having to make a lot of things happen on her own as they didn’t have their family’s backing for most of her life. 

It wasn’t until Alicent married Viserys that the Hightowers welcomed Otto, Alicent, and her brothers back into the family fold. 

So when Viserys died Alicent had the army of Hightower family lawyers on her side. Alicent managed to win several of Viserys’ homes and the money the prenup she had signed promised her. 

Aemond never really spoke of his father, and when he did it was without warmth or love. So you often wondered if this was how all his family felt or if it was just him. You figured you would soon find out.

- 

Aemond pulled up in front of the massive estate. 

You got out of the car and marveled at the impressive family home. It wasn’t bigger than the one your family owned but it did look older and felt more imposing. 

The estate was decorated from top to bottom in Christmas decor. It was done tastefully, the lights and decor didn’t look tacky, but it certainly conveyed a love for the holiday not many others shared by the look of the estates Aemond had passed by on the drive up. 

Aemond popped the truck of the car open and took out his overnight bag. Then he took a deep breath and walked towards you. 

“Say the word and we can still go back to the flat,” he joked. 

You raised your brows and gave him a sideways look. “And do what? Eat Chinese take out and get drunk?” 

Aemond smiled. “That sounds class to me.” 

You laughed and shook your head. 

“Aemond," said a voice that sounded as sweet as honey and as light as the morning sun. 

You and Aemond turned your heads towards the estate. 

Aemond’s mother stood at the door. She smiled brightly and waved. 

Gods she’s even more beautiful in person, you thought. 

Aemond put his hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get this over with then.” 

You and Aemond walked up to the door. 

Aemond’s mother turned to you and gave you a hug. 

“It’s lovely to finally see you in person (y/n)," Alicent said as she politely embraced you. 

You were surprised but you quickly recovered and returned the embrace. You noted how warm she felt. 

“It’s a pleasure Mrs. Targaryen.” 

Alicent pulled away and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh none of that. Call me Alicent,” she said with a smile. 

You nodded. “If you insist, Alicent.” 

She let out a polite laugh then turned her attention to Aemond. She wrapped her arms around her son. “I’ve missed you so much my little dragon,” she cooed. 

Aemond blushed as he pulled away from his mother. 

“Mom,” he chided. 

Alicent laughed. “What? I can’t call you my little dragon anymore?” 

You laughed and turned to Aemond. “Little dragon?” 

Alicent turned to you. “He used to love running around pretending he was a dragon when he was a boy.” 

You reached out and pinched Aemond’s now rosy cheek. “How cute, little dragon.” 

Aemond swatted your hand away. “That only happened when I was seven and it’s because the dragon is on our family crest.” 

“If it makes you feel better my nickname used to be baby cabbage in our mother tongue," you revealed, hoping to lessen Aemond's embarrassment. 

Alicent laughed. “Why baby cabbage?” 

You blushed under her gaze. “I was a very chubby baby.” 

“How darling,” Alicent quipped. 

Butterflies fluttered in your chest at the compliment. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Aemond staring at you. 

He cleared his throat and pulled his mother’s gaze away from you. “Let’s go inside, it’s bitterly cold out.” 

Alicent nodded. “Of course come on in. Aegon is already up in his room. Helaena and her friend should be getting in any minute now.” 

Alicent stepped aside and Aemond walked inside. 

You followed after him and felt the butterflies in your chest multiply when you caught Alicent looking you over from head to toe with a small smile on her face.

-

Aemond and Aegon decided to smoke a joint before dinner. 

You weren’t against it but didn’t care to partake so you wandered downstairs and figured you’d ask Alicent if she needed any help with dinner. 

You knocked on the wall of the kitchen entryway. 

Alicent was stirring something in the saucepan but looked up when she heard you knock. She smiled. 

Butterflies filled your chest once more. 

“Hi there,” she said. 

You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans. Your palms had already started to sweat and you hadn't even spoken yet. 

“Hi...Uh I was wondering if you needed help with anything?” 

Alicent waved you off. “You’re a guest (y/n). I could never ask you to do anything,” Alicent protested. 

You stepped closer and leaned against the counter next to the stove. “Then it’s a great thing I’m asking you. Really, I want to help out,” you insisted. 

Alicent let out a small laugh. “Okay, you can stir this gravy while I check on the roast.” 

You stepped up to the stove and took over the stirring. 

Alicent went to the oven that was inlaid on the side of the stove, and took a look at the roast.   

“Did you decorate or did you hire someone to decorate your home?” 

Alicent stuck a meat thermometer in the roast and turned her head towards you. “Depends, do you think it’s too much?” 

You smiled. “Of course not. It’s beautifully done.” 

Alicent brightened at the compliment. “Then it was all me,” she beamed. 

“Do you always go all out on the holidays?” 

Alicent placed the roast back on its rack and closed the oven door. “Just Christmas. It’s my favorite holiday because I finally have my family all under one roof again." 

She took her oven mitts off. 

You continued to stir the gravy. “Well I hope it’s okay that you have a stray joining you at the table this year." 

Alicent approached the stove once more.“It’s Christmas, the more the merrier.” 

Then Alicent reached out for the spoon. You went to hand it off. 

But then your hand met hers. 

You didn’t move, and neither did Alicent. 

She met your gaze. 

You were too scared to even breathe. It felt as though if you moved even an inch the spell that kept her eyes on you would break. 

But it broke anyway. 

Alicent cleared her throat and looked away. 

You let go of the spoon. 

Alicent grabbed the spoon and resumed stirring. With her free hand she lowered the heat of the flame. “Besides, I’ll have two stays. Helaena is bringing a friend from school," she said, as though your brief moment of intense something had never happened. 

You took a step back and leaned on the counter. “Right, you mentioned that before. Do you know much about her?” 

Alicent continued to stir. She did not meet your gaze. “Not really. Helaena doesn’t share much about her college life with me. All I know is that her name is Baela, and that they’re spending Christmas day with her family.” 

You raised your eyebrows slightly. Was Aemond right about his sister being into women? 

Alicent noticed. “Why’d you make that face?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just something stupid Aemond said," your face suddenly felt warmer. 

Now it was Alicent who raised her eyebrows in intrigue. “What is it?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure if Aemond would mind you sharing his thoughts with his mother. 

Alicent noted your apprehension. “I won’t tell Aemond you mentioned anything.” 

You looked into Alicent’s eyes. They were a deep and rich brown. They were comforting. You realized that with eyes like that you would tell her anything she wanted. But her gaze was too hot so you swallowed hard and looked away from her when you told her what Aemond had said. 

“He thinks Helaena is gay, and is obsessed with getting her and I together. I’m ninety percent sure that’s the sole reason he invited me over today.” 

Alicent stopped stirring and stared at you.“Gay? Why does he think Helaena is gay?” 

You shrugged. 

Alicent placed a hand on her hip. "I think you do know." 

You dared look up. Alicent's attention was fully focused on you. You felt your stomach in your throat but you spoke anyway.

“According to Aemond, Helaena never expresses interest in men or in dating a man, only talks about women she admires, attends a historically women’s college and majors in women’s studies, and finally that she only ever brings girls home on the holidays.” 

Alicent chuckled and went back to stirring the gravy. “Oh gods. You know I’ve never known why kids today still hang onto outdated stereotypes about sexuality. I was the very same at Helaena’s age, she’ll grow out of it when she meets her future husband. I know I did.” 

You pushed yourself onto the counter and sat down, intrigued at the revelation of Alicent's past. 

“You were a women’s studies major at an all girl college?” 

Alicent tilted her head to the side.“Sort of. I majored in English literature at Vassar, and I only ever brought my girl friends home for the holidays. Until I met my late husband of course.” 

Aemond had never told you that his mother had gone to an all women’s university or that she had a BA in English Lit. It piqued your interest. You needed to know more. 

“How did you meet him?” 

Alicent returned her gaze to the stove and brought the heat of the burner even lower. “My father introduced us. He was Viserys’ chief of staff in his first term.” 

You knew there had been an age difference between them but had not imagined it was that big. 

“Interesting...”

Alicent didn’t reply but she glanced over at you. 

You hopped off the counter, awkward with the sudden silence. “What else can I help with?” 

Alicent smiled softly. “You really don’t have to (y/n).” 

You shook your head. “I insist. Have you set the table? If not I would be more than happy to do so.” 

Alicent turned the heat off and moved the sauce pot to a different burner. She looked up at you. “I laid everything out but I haven’t set it up.” 

You clapped your hands together. “Consider it done.” 

Then you raised your hand to your forehead and gave Alicent a mock salute. 

Alicent laughed.

- 

You set the table as you had always been taught to. Spoons and knives on the right and forks on the left. 

Then, just as you were almost done setting the table you realized the salad forks were missing. 

You double checked the pile where Alicent had left everything, hoping they were under a napkin and you had simply missed them. But no dice. They weren’t there. 

So you walked back to the kitchen. 

Alicent was now working on the salad she planned to serve. She looked up when you entered the kitchen, a smile on her face. It seemed like she always had a smile ready for you. 

You smiled back, it was instinct around her. “Hey uhm- I’m almost done setting the table but I realized the salad forks are missing. I can’t find them.” 

Alicent furrowed her brow. “Really? I could have sworn I set them out with the rest.” 

She grabbed a nearby paper towel and wiped her hands of any residue. 

Then she exited the kitchen and walked towards her china hutch. 

You watched her from the kitchen entryway. 

While you waited for Alicent to find the forks you looked about the room. When you looked up you realized someone had hung mistletoe over the entryway. 

You smiled. 

Alicent walked to you, forks in hand. She stopped at the entryway. “I’m so sorry I forgot to set them out with the rest.” 

She handed the forks over to you. 

You reached out to take them and for a brief minute your hands met hers, once again. 

Your gaze met hers. “Don’t apologize. I honestly don’t know how you’re doing all the cooking and decorating all on your own. Aemond and I were barely able to put a tree up.” 

Alicent smiled. She didn’t pull away this time. “You’re too sweet (y/n).” 

You returned her smile. Your cheeks were starting to hurt but you wouldn't dare not smile back. “I do have to ask you something," you said, emboldened by the continued contact with Alicent. 

Alicent raised a brow. “Ask me something?” 

You nodded slightly then continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen mistletoe hung in the entryway of a kitchen before.” 

Alicent’s brow furrowed. “Mistletoe?” 

You looked up. Alicent followed your gaze. 

Her eyes widened a bit when she noticed the mistletoe. “Oh I- That Aegon,” she cursed. 

You looked back down at her and laughed. 

Alicent met your gaze once more, blush filled her cheeks. 

Then she pulled her hands away from yours. 

You took the forks and held them against you. “It's quite a funny placement isn't it?" 

Alicent walked past you, back to her salad preparations. 

“Oh yeah? How so,” Alicent replied, busying herself with her salad to avoid looking at you.

 “It reminds me of the old saying, love the meal and kiss the chef." 

Alicent stopped chopping the greens and looked over at you. She let out a small laugh. “Is that a saying? I don't think I've heard it before." 

You shrugged. “I swear I've heard it before, somewhere...Well if it's not it should be." 

Alicent shook her head, the smile still on her face. “Let’s see if you still want to kiss the chef after you’ve had my cooking.” 

Butterflies filled your chest. You stood up a little straighter. “Deal.” 

Alicent turned to you once more, her eyebrows raised. 

You twirled around and walked back to the dining room. You could feel Alicent’s eyes on you as you walked away.

- 

You finished setting the table. 

Then you stepped back and admired your work. 

You hoped Alicent would like it. So you turned to head back to the kitchen but stopped in the hall when you heard the doorbell ring. 

You turned to open it but Aemond beat you to it. 

“Sister,” Aemond said and reached out to hug a familiar blonde.

Alicent walked out of the kitchen and went to the door. 

Helaena let go of Aemond and turned to her mother. Alicent wrapped Helaena in another hug. 

Behind her, a silver haired girl stood awkwardly in the doorway. 

Helaena pulled away from her mom and stepped back to the silver haired girl’s side. She slid her hand in the girl’s. “Mom, Aemond, this is my best friend Baela.” 

Alicent stepped forward and stuck her hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Baela.” 

Baela shook Alicent’s hand. “Thank you for having me over Mrs. Targaryen. Helaena has told me so much about you all.” 

Alicent laughed lightheartedly. “All good things I hope.” 

You took note that she didn’t ask Baela to call her Alicent. 

Aemond gave Baela a polite nod. “Welcome Baela.” 

Baela smiled at him. “Thank you Aemond.” 

Then Aemond noticed you standing in the hall and he waved you over. You approached them with a smile. 

Aemond went to your side and put his arm around your shoulders. “Helaena look who’s joining us tonight.” 

Helaena smiled when she turned to face you. “(y/n), it’s nice to see you again.” She stepped forward and gave you a hug. 

Aemond dropped his arm and stepped away from the both of you. 

You returned Helaena’s hug. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Aemond giving you a knowing smirk. 

Helaena pulled away and held you at arm’s length. “I’m so happy you’re joining us for dinner.” 

“As am I,” you replied. 

Helaena gave your arms a squeeze before she stepped back to Baela’s side. 

You stuck your hand out to Baela. “Nice to meet you. I’m Aemond’s friend (y/n).” 

Baela shook your hand warmly. “Nice to meet you as well.” 

Then Baela stepped back and Helaena looped her arm around Baela’s. 

“We’ll be upstairs in my room. Let us know when dinner is ready,” Helaena said before she and Baela started up the stairs. 

“Okay,” Alicent said as she watched them leave. Then she turned to you and Aemond. 

“Do you need any more help,” you asked Alicent. 

Alicent shook her head. “You’ve been a tremendous help. Please go have fun.” 

Aemond put his arm around your shoulders once more. “Let’s go play some video games on Aegon’s new system.” 

Aemond led you to the stairs. 

You craned your head back to look at Alicent. “If you need any more help just let me know! I’d be more than happy to.”

 Alicent gave you another smile. “I will.” 

Then she walked back into the kitchen and you followed Aemond up the stairs. 

- 

After about an hour of playing mario party with Aemond and Aegon (who you didn’t much care for because he could be crass but he had never been improper towards you so you didn’t mind him much) you heard the doorbell ring. 

“That will be grandfather,” Aemond said with a sigh. 

Aegon slumped down in his gaming chair on the ground. “I don’t want to go down.” 

Aemond clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sooner we go say hello the sooner we can say goodbye.” 

Aegon groaned. 

You turned to Aemond. “Oh come on, your grandpa can’t be that bad.” 

Aegon looked at you with an incredulous expression. “You have no idea." 

Then you all stood and made your way to the entrance. 

You trailed behind the boys. 

You saw Alicent at the door with an older man who you figured was her father, and three younger men who greeted Alicent with smiles and hugs. You figured they were her brothers. 

Aemond had told you he had three uncles on his mother’s side. He hadn’t mentioned much about them other than they were all still bachelors, which to you spoke volumes about them as two looked older than Alicent and only one looked younger than her. 

The older man turned to Aegon and Aemond, who were now at the door.

 “Boys,“ the man cheered before greeting each one with a hug and heavy pat on the back. 

Aemond returned the hug while Aegon went limp in his grandfather’s arms. Then their uncles greeted each one. 

You noticed that Alicent had straightened her posture and kept a more neutral expression. She greeted her father and sibling politely, with none of the warmth of earlier greetings. 

There was a lot that you didn’t know about Alicent and her family but you figured it was not all rainbows and sunshine by the change in her demeanor.

“You got here just in time father. Dinner is ready and served,” Alicent proclaimed. 

Her father nodded. “Very good timing Alicent.” 

Then Alicent turned to Aemond. “Would you tell the girls it’s dinner time?” 

Aemond nodded. Then he sped back up the stairs. He reached you and started to tell you but you told him you had heard. 

So he left you and went to tell Helaena and Baela. 

You made your way down the staircase and to the dining room. 

Alicent’s father and brothers seated themselves. Her father sat at the head of the table and insisted Aegon sit on the other end. Aegon did not protest. 

Alicent came out of the kitchen with the salad she prepared in her arms. 

You went to her side. “Do you need any help bringing out the food?” 

Alicent gave you a half smile. “It’s alright (y/n). I’ve set it all on the table. You just sit down and enjoy.“ 

You nodded and followed Alicent into the dining room. You sat down on the empty side of the table. You introduced yourself to Alicent’s family as you sat down. They all gave you various levels of appropriate greetings. 

Thankfully Aemond, Helaena and Baela came in and sat down next to you. Aemond sat to your right, beside his grandfather, and Helaena to your left. Baela sat on her left, with Aegon on Baela’s left. Opposite you sat Alicent. To her left sat her brother Gwayne (as he had introduced himself to you), beside his father. To Alicent’s right sat her brothers Lyonel and Martyn. 

You took in the sight of the absolute feast that was before you. “This all looks delicious, Alicent,” you said without thinking. 

Alicent gave you a small smile, blush tinting her cheeks once again. “Thank you (y/n). You’re too kind.” 

Her father, Otto as you now knew him, let out an indifferent huff. “The roast looks a bit overdone. How long did you leave it in for,” he remarked. 

Alicent’s smile fell from her face. She looked down at her hands. “I followed mother’s recipe to the letter father.” 

Otto let out another huff. “We’ll see about that.” 

Alicent frowned. 

Your focus was pulled away from them when Aemond gently ribbed you with his elbow. 

“You’ve got the perfect seat to talk to Helaena,” he whispered. 

You turned your head slightly to get a better look at Helaena. She was too busy chatting with Baela to even notice you. 

You turned back to Aemond. “It’s not happening Aemond.” 

Aemond frowned then turned his attention to his grandfather.

Otto rose from his seat and tapped his wine glass with a fork, calling everyone’s attention. 

“It warms my heart to see the family gathered for another Christmas. A man’s true wealth can be measured by the strength of his family...and the strength of his business. I am pleased to announce that your uncle Ormund has set up a donor fund for Aegon’s first mayoral campaign.”

Alicent’s brothers clapped and cheered for Aegon. Alicent clapped softly and gave Aegon a sympathetic look. 

Aegon’s face turned a sickly pale color. He didn’t meet his grandfather’s gaze. 

You had a feeling this was the first Aegon was hearing of his mayoral candidacy. 

Otto raised his glass. “To Aegon, first stop the mayor of Oldtown, last stop the president’s office.” 

“Huzzah,” Martyn cheered. 

You raised your glass alongside the rest purely out of propriety. Everyone could tell by the look on Aegon’s face this was the last thing he wanted. 

You turned to look at Alicent who had guilt written all over her face. Your heart softened. 

Otto set his glass down after taking a drink. Then he grabbed the carving knife and fork and got to work on the roast. 

- 

The meal was going well. Until of course Alicent’s family set their attention towards you. 

Lyonel, Alicent’s eldest brother, turned towards you. “So (y/n), what’s your family do?” 

Martyn nodded. “Yeah your name sounds familiar.” 

You took a quick sip of your wine before you replied. “My family are mainly philanthropists now but our family used to own the majority of the railways in the country,” you confessed. 

“That’s right, (y/l/n) rail,” Otto chimed in. 

“Yes sir, but my father is focused on tech philanthropy now.” Below the table your palms started to sweat. Talking with Otto Hightower felt a lot like speaking with your grandfather as a child. They both had very imposing auras. 

“A pity,” Martyn responded as he shoveled another piece of roast into his mouth.

Alicent whipped her head towards her brother. “Martyn,” Alicent chided. 

Martyn shrugged. “What? Her family used to be major players in the nation.” 

Lyonel nodded, agreeing with his brother. But he didn’t stop there. “So why aren’t you spending Christmas with them?” 

You dug your fingers into the palms of your hands. You felt like something was stabbing the inside of your throat. 

Thankfully,  Alicent and Aemond came to your aid. “Lyonel,” Alicent reprimanded. 

Then she turned to you. “You don’t have to answer that (y/n). Please forgive my brothers.” 

Aemond nodded. “Yeah (y/n) you don’t have to engage my troublesome uncles.” 

Lyonel and Martyn rolled their eyes. 

Otto was silent but his piercing gaze remained on you. 

You swallowed hard before you put on a polite smile. You looked at Aemond then at Alicent. “It’s alright,” you assured them. 

Then you turned to Alicent’s brothers. 

“I came out to my family a few months ago and it's safe to say they don’t approve of my new ‘lifestyle’ as they call it.” 

Lyonel’s face went red. Martyn looked away. 

Internally, you smiled at the sight of them embarrassed. 

Alicent’s voice pulled you back to the present. “They’ll come around eventually (y/n). The love a parent has for their child is immeasurable.” 

You smiled at her. “I really hope you’re right.” 

Gwayne, who had not said much all dinner, cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him. 

He turned to Aemond. “So Aemond, how’s your fencing coming along?” 

And just like that the pressure was off you and onto Aemond. 

- 

Many minutes later the meal came to a close. 

The men whisked Aegon and Aemond outside to play ball, leaving only the women inside. 

You, Alicent, Helaena, and Baela cleaned up the table. 

Alicent and Baela made their way to the kitchen with the leftover food while you and Helaena stacked up a pile of dirty dishes. 

Helaena looked over at you. “That was very brave of you,” she said. 

You set the plate you had picked up down. “What was brave?” 

Helaena stopped clearing the table. She turned to face you. “Telling everyone your family iced you out after you came out. Coming out to your family is incredibly brave, and you’re even braver for sharing that with practical strangers.” 

You smiled and felt your face warm. You weren’t attracted to Helaena but she had an otherworldly presence that made any attention she gave you feel special. “Thank you Helaena.” 

She reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “If you ever need to talk or need support, I’m here for you.” 

You put your hand on top of hers. “Thank you.” 

Then the two of you finished clearing the table. 

- 

You finished bringing the last of the dirty dishes into the kitchen. 

Helaena trailed in after you and set her stack on the counter. “Mother, Baela and I will be in my room.” 

Alicent nodded, up to her elbows in leftover food that she was trying to shove into various containers. 

Baela and Helaena left the kitchen. 

You turned to Alicent. “Do you need some help with that?” 

Alicent struggled to secure the lid on the container as she had over packed it with food. Alicent shook her head. “I got it.” 

You continued to watch her struggle. “I don’t think you do.” 

Alicent stopped trying and stepped aside. “Okay then tough guy, you give it a go.” 

You smiled and walked up to the counter. You pressed the lid down on all sides until you heard it click. It was secure. 

Alicent clicked her tongue. "Lucky try." 

You turned to her. “Always happy to help.” 

Alicent took the container full of food and stacked it with the others. “You don’t have to hang around here (y/n). You can go see Aemond or Helaena.” 

You furrowed your brows. “Helaena?” 

Alicent turned to the fridge and started the game of stacking the leftovers. “Yes, I saw the two of you talking while you cleared the table. Perhaps Aemond was right after all. I’ve never seen Helaena take to someone new so quickly.” 

“You were watching us," you asked, butterflies forming at the thought of Alicent spying on you. 

“Why do you say it as if I was spying on you? I saw you from the window in the kitchen is all." She said with a lazy smile on her face. 

“Right....We were just talking. Besides,Aemond is out playing sports with your brothers and father and I am not a sports fan. And I would hate to interrupt Helaena and Baela's alone time,” you joked. 

Alicent chuckled. She turned to grab the rest of the leftovers from the counter. 

You stepped forward and grabbed them. You handed them to her, one by one. “Besides, I like being in your company,” you confessed. 

Alicent stopped arranging the leftovers and looked back at you. “Really?” 

You nodded. 

Alicent smiled shyly and returned her attention to the refrigerator. “I wish my own children felt the same. All but Aemond dodge my calls.” 

You shrugged. “If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always free.” 

Alicent turned to you and you handed her the final container of leftovers. “Thank you (y/n).” 

Her fingers lingered over yours. Alicent looked down at them. She stared at them for a moment before biting her lip. 

 “What’s your verdict?” 

You furrowed your brows. “I’m sorry?” 

Alicent looked up, and took the container from you. “About my food. Was it good enough to kiss the chef?” 

Your face went hot. “Oh...uhm I-” 

Alicent placed the container in the fridge then closed it. She turned back to you. 

You were still too stunned to say anything. 

So her smile fell and she shook her head. “Forget it, it was stupid.” 

“No it’s not stupid I-," you stammered then cleared your throat. “I was just caught off guard is all.” 

Alicent stared at you, not saying anything. 

So you continued. 

“The roast was cooked perfectly.” 

Her smile returned. “Thank you (y/n).” 

You stepped closer to her. “So I do believe I will kiss the chef after all.” 

Alicent swallowed hard, not taking her gaze off you. “Oh,” she whispered. 

You stood in front of her, and looked down at her lips. “May I?” 

The last thing you wanted was for Alicent to feel uncomfortable or coerced. So you waited for her reply before doing anything else. 

Alicent gave you an almost imperceptible nod. 

You leaned in, at first determined to kiss her lips, but as you neared her skin you thought better of it. 

She was just committing to the bit, you told yourself, she didn't actually want you to kiss her.

So you placed a gentle kiss on Alicent’s cheek, inches away from her lips but still in a chaste enough location. 

You noticed a small frown spread across Alicent’s lips as you pulled away. 

But it was quickly wiped away. 

Alicent blushed furiously. She looked away from you. 

You also felt your face warm. 

You heard footsteps approach the kitchen. So you stepped away from Alicent and leaned on the counter. 

Alicent must have also heard them as she busied herself with wiping down the stove top with a nearby rag. 

Aemond appeared moments later. He looked between you and his mother, slightly suspicious, but then he shook his head and turned to you. “Aegon wants another couple rounds of Deadly Fighter 5. You up for it?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

Aemond turned and headed towards the hall. 

You started after him but turned at the entryway of the kitchen. “It was a lovely meal, thank you.” 

Alicent nodded, her cheeks still rosy. “Of course.” 

Then you hurried after Aemond. 

A part of you wished you had been brave enough to kiss Alicent on the lips.

You mashed various button combinations as your chosen fighter threw punches at Aemond’s chosen character on the tv screen. 

He was currently beating you  in the second round. 

Behind you, Aegon took a hit from his bong and blew it out in perfect circles. 

“So let me get this right, you want to fuck our mom,” Aegon repeated. 

You grimaced. “Why must you say it like that?” 

Aemond’s character delivered the killing blow to you. You lost. 

Aemond turned to you. “Aegon’s crudeness aside, he’s not wrong. I’ve seen the way you linger in the kitchen alone with her.” 

You felt your face start to warm. You cleared your throat and tried your best to appear nonchalant. 

“I didn’t want her to think I was a rude guest. No one else was helping her,” you argued. 

Aegon took another hit before he spoke again. “You know, I always thought Mom was a lesbian,” he mused. 

Aemond turned to him. “You did?” 

Aegon nodded. “She never really liked Dad, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard her call a man sexy.” 

Aemond furrowed his brows. “Because Dad was a dick. Mother is a devout Catholic she would never call another man sexy. I don’t even think that word is in her vocabulary.” 

You turned to Aemond. “Your arguments for why Heleana is gay are just as flimsy.” 

Aegon turned to Aemond. “You think Helaena is gay?” 

Aemond shrugged. “What else could she be? She’s definitely not into men.” 

“She’s not into anything. She’s a freak like that,” Aegon said and laughed at his own joke. 

Aemond threw a pillow at Aegon’s head. 

It bumped Aegon’s head and knocked the bong out of his hands. 

“Hey,” Aegon whined. 

You and Aemond laughed. 

- 

An hour later, the time had arrived for you to leave. 

You descended the stairs with Aegon and Aemond in tow. 

At the bottom of the stairs Alicent was already saying goodbye to her father and brothers. She finished giving each a hug goodbye. 

Then she noticed Aemond and Aegon. Alicent asked the boys to say goodbye to their grandfather and uncles. 

Aegon and Aemond did as their mother asked and gave their family a hug goodbye. 

Helaena and Baela came down the stairs and Helaena said goodbye to her grandfather and uncles. 

Once they were gone, Helaena informed her mother it was time for her and Baela to leave. 

Alicent gave Helaena a big hug. “I’ll miss you, my bug, she said as she gave Helaena a kiss on the forehead. 

Then Alicent said goodbye to Baela, another handshake. 

Baela and Helaena made their way out the door. 

You were the last guest there. 

Alicent and the boys looked towards you. 

You dialed your cousin Elia once more. Once again you got the automated message the call could not be connected.

“I’m having some trouble with my cell. Could I use your landline?” You asked. 

Aemond furrowed his brows. He turned to his mom. “Do we even have one?” 

Alicent nodded. “Of course we do.” Then she turned to you. “It’s this way.” 

She led you to a small alcove with the landline and a seat next to it at the end of the hall. 

You thanked her and dialed Elia’s number once more. 

This time you got through. It rang three times before she answered. 

“Hello?” 

“Elia, it’s (y/n). I’m calling from my friend’s landline. I couldn’t get through on my cell for some reason.” 

You pressed the phone closer to your ear. There was a lot of background noise and you could not hear Elia very well. 

“I tried to call you. I can’t make it out to pick you up. There’s been a freak snowstorm in Sunspear. They closed all the roads and aren’t letting anyone through. I’m so sorry kiddo,” Elia lamented. 

Your heart sank. 

One for the snow storm that was probably wreaking havoc in Sunspear. It was a town that almost never got anything besides sun. 

And secondly because now you had no way to get back to your flat. 

You swallowed hard before answering. “Stay safe Elia. Please call me with updates, okay?” 

“You got it kiddo. Is there anyone else who can take you  home?” 

“I’ll figure it out, Elia. Don’t worry about that,” you said. 

The line started to fade in and out. Elia wished you a safe ride home and a merry Christmas. 

You did the same then hung up. 

Then you walked back to the entryway where Alicent, Aegon and Aemond stood. 

You shoved your hands in your pockets. “Soo...a freak snowstorm hit Sunspear and Elia can’t pick me up.” 

Alicent frowned. “Oh no, is she alright?” 

You nodded. “Yeah she’s doing okay. Uhm, so I’ll try to call my family’s driver to see if he can make it out. It might take him an hour or two to drive from High Garden but I’m sure he won’t mind.” 

Alicent shook her head and approached you. “Nonsense, you’ll stay the night with us and you can leave with Aemond tomorrow evening.” 

She reached for your hands and held them. “Got it?” 

You flushed. “I couldn’t possibly bother you all like that.“ 

“You are no bother (y/n). Now come on, let me show you to the guest bedroom.” 

Then Alicent pulled you along the staircase and to the guest bedroom. 

Aemond trailed behind the two of you. 

-

Alicent led you to a beautiful room with ample space and a fireplace. She asked Aemond to start a fire as the room could get quite cold at night. 

Aemond did so without protest and soon a fire roared in the hearth. 

Then Alicent asked Aemond to fetch you a pair of his pajamas. 

Again, Aemond did so without protest. 

While Aemond was gone you turned to Alicent. “Are you sure this isn’t an imposition? I can still call the family driver.” 

Alicent waved you off. “You’re staying and that’s final. You got it?” 

You nodded. Her dominant tone ignited a flame of your own. “Thank you,” was all you could say without giving your desire away. 

Aemond returned with a fresh pair of pajamas in hand. He gave them to you. 

You thanked him. 

Alicent clapped her hands together. “Wonderful, we will leave you to get settled. Breakfast is tomorrow at 9am.” 

You nodded. “Got it.” 

Alicent reached out and gave your shoulder a light squeeze. “Sleep well,” she said. 

You smiled. “You as well.” 

Then Alicent turned and left the room. 

Aemond stepped forward. “We’ll try again with Helaena at New Years.” 

You groaned. “Please, no more of that.” 

Aemond chuckled. “We’ll see. Good night (y/n).” 

“Good night Aemond,” you replied as you shook your head. 

Aemond walked out and shut the door behind him. 

Finally, you were alone. 

You changed into the pajamas Aemond gave you and settled into the plush king sized bed. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come. You decided to think about Alicent, in hopes you dreamt of her. 

You smiled. 

- 

Unfortunately, sleep did not come for you. You tossed and you turned. 

All you could think of was how much fun your family was probably having without you in St. Barts. 

Then you did the worst possible thing. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and pulled up your mother’s facebook account. 

She had already posted many photos of the family in St. Barts. They were smiling from ear to ear, tanned, and it seemed like no one cared you were not in any of the pictures. 

Your mom made no mention of your absence in the text of the post and none of the comments (mostly your mom’s pta and book club friends) asked about your whereabouts. 

You clicked through the many photos. It wasn’t until you clicked on the last photo that you lost it. 

It was a picture of your whole family (minus you), with a caption that read, “Family time is the best time. So thankful to God for allowing the whole family to join us for this Christmas getaway.” 

Tears welled in your eyes. They had completely erased you out of the family. You threw your phone across the room. 

The tears fell from your eyes and stained your cheeks. You could not stop the sobbing that followed. 

It was stupid. You were stupid. 

You should not have been crying for a family that clearly did not want you. You wiped your tears and tried to calm yourself. 

You struggled to do so but after a few minutes you were finally able to breathe normally again. 

You got out of bed and crossed the room to where you had thrown your phone. Then you picked it up. It was a little busted but nothing cracked. 

So you pocketed it and decided to go downstairs for a glass of water. 

- 

As you started towards the kitchen you noticed lights were on in the study down the opposite hall. 

Aemond had briefly mentioned the study on the initial tour he had given you. 

You wondered who else was up this late as it was well past 2am. 

So you stepped closer. As you neared the study you started to hear small cries and sobs. 

You got closer and tried to peer inside. 

Thankfully the door was ajar enough that you saw who was inside. 

It was Alicent. 

The first thing you noticed was how low cut her nightgown was. 

It was a beautiful sage green, and it hugged her body pretty tightly. Then your gaze traveled back to the low cut top of the nightgown. You knew it was wrong to stare but you wanted to take in just how stunning Alicent was. 

You looked closer and noticed her nipples peeked through the fabric of the nightgown. You swallowed hard. 

“Fuck,” you whispered. 

Then Alicent sniffled and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. 

You shook your head. She was clearly upset and there you were ogling her. 

You stepped back and tried to leave. 

But it was too late. 

Alicent stood from her seat. “Who’s there?” She called out. 

You didn’t reply. You were far enough away that you hoped by staying quiet she would drop it and you could leave. 

You didn’t want to intrude on a clearly private moment. 

“Come forward,” Alicent demanded. 

You silently cursed yourself. You had no choice but to enter the study.

[herestomyhaters]

i have remained silent for too long. i forgot to post this so here are my thoughts on 2x06/2x07!! as always brought to you by a bisexual black girl 🫡

i understand it's a teen drama so cheating is bound to happen but lorddd i was really hoping they wouldn't do that w/ noa cause i hate that bi stereotype. atp it's just bad writing bc why would she want to be w/ jen after all the batshit crazy things she's done ???

call me crazy but i Do Not think shawn punched that whole in the wall and even if he did i still don't trust jen (why would anyone 💀)

also were they expecting him not to react after noa's been cheating since JUVIE, all the lying and the stealing ???

hope i won't need to backtrack here (that'd suck) but why are ppl so obsessed w/ christian being evil/related to bloody rose somehow?? like besides being too obvious i really don't think they would do that to tabby again. also it feels jarring that ppl want to assume the black guy is the threat

i want more 1:1 moments between the girls!! the only dynamic that's been explored so far is tabogen (we got faran/imogen crumbs last week). praying for that in s3

is it me or are all of imogen & johnny's scenes just her trauma dumping myyy god. don't get me wrong i like them together but it just sends me, i also wish they'd explored the whole "player" trope a bit more it could've been interesting to see. i just don't know how believable it is to go from THAT to loverboy in the span of an episode but i guess we have the 8-episode season aspect to blame

redemption house was CRAZY. it was giving "is this fucking play about us?" tbh it ate

speaking of crazy kelly has fully lost it. imogen clocking her was one of my fave moments in the episode. looove imogen she's easily become my top 3

there is also no way kelly's dead

"HENRY, you're a dancer. most of your friends are GAY"

faran and greg: where to even start. i saw this ship coming before the season even started and (hear me out) i do not think they'll be endgame. i personally don't hate greg (maybe it's just elias' charisma) but it feels very contradicting to the show's values to pair faran & greg together. still, it is a semi-realistic situation. i just hope they proceed with caution & are smart about whatever happens next. i do not want faran to be babysitting him into becoming a decent human being

just need to bring up the "my cousin kevin, who lives in riverdale" moment cause i was crying w laughter. this show is so unserious sometimes (shoutout kevin keller tho)

speaking of gays i was quite surprised bi noa wasn't canon already?? might be bc maia has spoken about it many times but i always assumed she was already out 😭

besides that, the fact that NONE of them called noa out for cheating??? they were like "yesss queen slay 😍". i can't, feeling so sorry for shawn atp

also imogen bursting out laughing when noa brought up the "throuple" thing even she was weirded tf out

bloody mary playing while they raided redemption house was ICONIC

that bloody rose reveal was INSANE. imogen tearing the mask off??? bailee's emmy worthy scream queen moment (AGAIN)??!

do y'all have any theories for tabby's final girl moment/who br is? how are u liking the season so far? lmk your thoughts and we can kiki 🫶🏽

[bjorkncaddel]

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 a coloring activity, she was a tad surprised to see Maeve around. Elias had visited her per usual as he can, and if Neva wasn't in this place she'd be at home. After all, she has helped him raise the little girl since she was born. Neva is technically her 'mother'. Sometimes, even accidentally the little girl calls her mother. Luckily, early she had finished doing all the exams, which meant she could give full attention to Maeve, and she knew her husband soon would join them. Ryan probably didn't know Maeve was around. Neva helped her niece to be in the bed with her, while they both were doing the coloring activity. Neva wore only a white blouse, not fully buttoned, only two buttons, and her baby bump was fully exposed, she ended up removing the blouse and staying in her black Celine top. Neva texted to Ryan bring McHappy for her niece because the hospital food wasn't very good ( or anything that was healthy and tasty ) . The Swedish blonde was following the diet the doctor recommended, and she couldn't have any caffeine and salt in her new diet. ❛ Auntie, Freja and Nils can hear me? ❜ Maeve asked quietly, while distracted by her painting with colorful pencil. ❛ Mhmm… Want to say something for them? They're a bit quiet now, but soon they will move again. They're lazy, like grandma! Ops! ❜ The grandma in question refers to her own mother Linnéa, and Maeve laughs at the comment.

The little girl holds her bump and talks to the twins, leaving behind the colorful activity. And she kissed it as if she was going to be a big sister. Neva then noticed Maeve wanted to feel them, but after a second, she put her tiny hand where they were moving, and even she was impressed she could see them moving inside her. One thing is to feel, and the other is actually see with her eyes, it makes this motherhood more realistic. She was touched, but her stoic expression was hiding everything. There is a small smile of happiness stamped on her features.

While Ryan wasn't around the doctor came to visit her and told her a few good news in regards to their babies. She was just waiting to tell him in person. Another thing she is waiting is the new outfit for the twins they are going to arrive. The nurse came in again, but only to bring her lunch. And she put the colorful activity she was doing aside too. ❛ Why aren't you with your friends? ❜ Neva inquired curiously, for her niece who always is with her friends now. ❛ Because I missed you, auntie. And I want to see my cousins. Hi uncle! ❜ She says as she sees Ryan coming.

❛ And… ❜ Maeve starts but stays quiet, and Neva squinted her eyes at her niece.

@caddel

[daisyishedwig]

I'm curious about Gwendolyn and what her relationship might be to Elias. Currently my theory is that since The Magnus Institute in this universe burned down 20 years ago, do you think that Elias still worked for institute? Do you think he'd already been taken over by Jonah Magnus (in the original timeline he would have been, but what about this one)? Do you think he died in the fire? Do you think she's on a Tim Stoker style hunt for any information about what exactly killed her (brother? Cousin? Father? Uncle? Husband?)? Any information about /why/ he died? About who wanted to destroy the institute so badly they took Elias with it? If he had been taken over by Jonah, do you think she noticed the personality change? How he became an entirely new person? Is she trying to find out what caused that too?

I'm just so excited to learn more about her and /why/ she actually cares enough to carefully research the statements she's assigned, what's driving her to be so dedicated. And maybe, she thinks that being in charge will make that easier, when she sets the quotas, when she can require more attention to be paid to the statements. How long until she realizes that the talkers, just like the ones that wouldn't record digitally, are the statements that are real?

[townsenddecades]

1331 – Day 3 - Glennborough

Late one night, a few months after first meeting her neighbours, Mariora is awoken by sharp pain. She has given birth to so many children by now that she hardly even feels any fear or panic. She calmly wakes her son, slumbering beside her, and tells him to run into town to fetch the midwife, Moira’s cousin. Although she has done this often enough to be confident that she could deliver this child on her own, she doesn’t want to have to rely on Nicolas should something go awry.

Her son does so and duly returns with the young woman, Caitlin, who isn’t too surprised to see her managing her labour well. Not that her contractions are too close to each other, now – it will be a while before that. But Caitlin is a great help simply by looking after the younger children and calming young Nicolas, so Mariora can focus on the arrival of her new little one.

But the more the hours stretch on, the more of her previous calm begins to erode. It isn’t that anything is going wrong – her contractions gradually start to come at closer intervals, as they should, and she doesn’t feel anything unusual. But doubt creeps in.

What if she doesn’t survive this? What will happen to her children then? Moira, as sensitive as Mariora to the fact that giving life is deadly, has already promised to do what she can to make sure that her boys are well taken care of, but that is no guarantee. They are in a foreign country, far from any family, and have already lost their father. They will need all the protection they can get. But how is she supposed to give them that if she is dead?

Caitlin notices her fretting and tries to calm her, but the more the pain grows, the more desperate she becomes. She can’t die. She can’t die. Oh Watcher, please, let her live for her children.

Or so she prays when it is time to give birth. She knows she is praying aloud, but she doesn’t care. No matter how often she has done this, she can never get used to the pain of it.

Her voice is hoarse by the time her baby is finally out and nearly sobs with relief when she hears it cry. In all her anxiety for her other children, she has hardly thought about this one.

“It’s a girl!”, Caitlin’s voice calls out a few moments later. “A beautiful, healthy girl.”

Mariora can convince herself of that when Caitlin lays her daughter into her arms, and wants to laugh and cry at the same time when she sees the fine red hair covering her head. A final reminder of her husband, it seems. Had she had another boy, she would have named him Simon, to honour his father.

In the end, she decides to name her new daughter Siobhán. It’s somewhat similar to her father’s name and is at the same time common in the land where her daughter will grow up. Hopefully, that will serve her well in the future.

The day after his sister is born and it is clear that both she and his mother will survive the birth, Nicolas runs over the Brophy family’s hut to tell them the happy news. Moira immediately promises to bring over some food so Mariora can rest a little more, which Nicolas promises to relay to his mother.

Before he leaves again, he is drawn into a conversation with Eibhlín, the Brophy’s daughter. They are of the same age and have played together more than once now, when they weren’t busy helping their respective mothers around the house.

Apparently, she has heard some musicians while accompanying her father into town a few days ago, which she excitedly tells him about now. Her vivid descriptions make Nicolas wish he could have been there, and he smiles despite of himself. But all too soon, he has to say goodbye, to return home.

His mother is counting on him, and because he is the man of the house now, he doesn’t intend to let her down.

After she is back on her feet – which is soon after Siobhán’s birth – Mariora has little time for her older children. Elias and her new daughter take up most of her attention, much to the chagrin of her three other boys. At least they have each other, she tells herself. And Nicolas has been good about keeping an eye on his brothers.

Christopher finds other ways to entertain himself, too. As is the case with most young witches, his few toys are among the favourite targets of his magic, and he is utterly fascinated by making them disappear and reappear. Mariora tells him firmly never to do this when other people are present, but that doesn’t stop him when he is on his own.

He can’t know – not even his mother could tell him – that this is the very thing that alerted his paternal family to his father’s gifts so many years ago. A lifetime seems to have passed since then, but if she knew about that incident, even exhausted Mariora might smile at that inadvertent link to the past.

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[senka-mesecine]

How do you think the various platoon boys would interact with their in-laws?

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― Shockingly, it might be Chris Taylor of all people who I see as having the most unstable and possibly volatile relationship with potential in-laws for the simple reason that he doesn't like going with the established way of things, he doesn't tremendously enjoy the confines of suburbia and things that are expect of him by default, meaning that I can see him not being very fond of your parents not because of who and what they are like, because that's secondary, they could be the nicest people alive and he could genuinely like them but more like due to the mere concept of in-laws in the first place. He married you. He didn't marry your mom and your dad. Heck, in fact, it's safe to say his relationship with his own parents could very well be on the flimsy side so one shouldn't expect that it would be that good with yours. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying Taylor would hate your parents or have something against them, but the relationship there? It is very much nonexistent. Perhaps before the war, young college boy Taylor would've had a good relationship with them, but Taylor as he is post-war? With all the things he's seen? Experienced? Done? Seen done to others? Even he himself realizes how he's changed between now and then and that your parents would've undoubtedly prefer him then as opposed to now, same way his own folks would've. It's like post-war something inside of him was so irrevocably changed that he cannot relate to common people anymore and doesn't even want to try to. At best, he takes on an Elias-like approach and cordially keeps his peaceful distance of your folks. At worst, his approach is Barnes-like and he acts like he's calling the shots and what he says goes. And if he says there's no need for being up each other's asses every day? Then that's law.

― O'Neill is loved by in-laws because he makes himself useful, getting under everyone's collective skin with how smarmily servile and ingratiating he is to 'moms' and 'pops', genuinely being no different than he was in the army; yes, he'll light his father-in-laws cigarette in case the man smokes, yes, he'll carry his mother-in-laws grocery bags, yes, he helps with whatever needs helping and even things that don't need helping, yes, he's everyone's yes-man in the family and yes, it seems to be his life's mission to get the in-laws to possibly adore him if not rely on him more than they do on their own blood relations or even on each other, a task he very well might succussed on with enough patience, ass-kissing and brownnosing, being at arm's length for whatever to such a high degree it might become norm that if something needs to be done 'O'Neill's gonna do it' Why? Because O'Neill continuously offers, he's continuously available and he is privately very cocky and gleeful when his help is picked over someone else's like he's won at something and in his own mind's eye, he has. He's the type to drive your mother's first cousin's aunt twice removed to her annual triple bypass check and actually have a splendid time gossiping with her as well as enabling everything she says and maintain relations with relatives you probably haven't even heard of. Your family can't really decide if there's something sleazily loveably endearing about Red, whether he's irritating them or not, if he's doing a bit too much at times, if he's a something of a prick with how downright meddlesome he can prove to be or if he's genuinely the most useful member of this family unit and if they collectively don't know how they lived before he's showed up. Truly, the polarizing experience of being O'Neill.

― Bunny comes off like the ideal son-in-law when you really think about it; young, handsome, his possible boy-next-door factor, having served in the war which undoubtedly comes with perks and a certain note of respectability (at least among conservatives) and any parent would be delighted by the choice of him...that is, until the moment Bunny actually opens his mouth to speak on any worldview ever; that's when he graduates from a dream addition to the family and a 'young man with a right head on his shoulders' to 'oh my god, what have we done, we're actually going to be related to this guy through marriage --- is it too late to call things off!?' And it's hilarious and perhaps a little worrying because Bunny might realize that his in-laws have quickly gone from being pretty damn okay about him to being downright horrified and truth of the matter is, he doesn't mind. In fact, he is equal amused and giddy regardless. He might just even like his new padre and madre even more now that they think he's an absolute beast. He finds it extremely flattering. Probably the type to get off on the shock factor he evokes in them and might just say and do the darndest things purely to shock them even more; might just say he'll back to the 'Nam and do several tours more and what's worse, he really means that. Your parents might not be sure if they actually want him to stay true to that promise or if they're disturbed by the fact that he talks about it like going to the spa; suffice to say, they're stuck with him and he adores that. They spend the holidays listening to Bunny talk conspiracy theories about how they are spraying dangerous chemicals from the sky. And 'they' can be any group Bunny wants to trashmouth this week.

― Rhah thinks the concept of in-laws is the worst thing invented since the electric chair. In fact, he might be very open about the notion that he somehow prefers the electric chair by a tiny margin; he is extremely standoffish about all things civilian, all things norm and all things cookie cutter and you might initially have very real fears that your parents and Vermucci will get along like a house on fire due to the fact that previously Rhah possibly fell into several long winded rants to you how having in-laws and maintaining any relationship with them is something the sheep do...except, when he actually meets them and they actually meet him, he turns tact and charms the pants off of them. So, what the heck happened? Why is he kissing your mother's hand and giving her the most honeypot smiles imaginable? Why's he so ardently complementing the cooking and eating it with all the gusto in the world, possibly even giving suggestions of his own? How come your father loves him? Did...did your dad just invite him fishing? God, Rhah isn't going to introduce him to weed, is he? How is he so effortlessly making small talking and understanding precisely how to get everyone to instantaneously like him? How did he suddenly become the most suave person in the room? You're sitting there (positively) shocked, but yeah, much like Rhah seduced you, he has the capacity to seduce everyone else as well, being extremely charismatic when he wishes to be and even if he doesn't enjoy the concept of something like in-laws, it doesn't mean he doesn't know exactly how to woo people's attention and get them to like him so much so they'll extend an invitation for another family meet up all on their own.

― With King, sad truth being sad, how his in-laws treat him vastly depends if they're black, white or of some other race considering this is 60's-70's America and we just gotta be real about this, but how he treats them is very much equal in either case because doesn't care no matter how you twist it or turn it and he means that in the kindest way possible. His babe's his babe. The world's gonna have to deal. Ain't nothing gonna make him change his mind about them, especially post-war when he's been through the shit and he's experienced so many messed up things that nonsense like commonplace familial disapproval is the least of his problems once he rotates back into the world --- fact is, he might as well laugh at it all considering how miniscule and downright petty stuff like this seems in comparison to being in the army, meaning that he faces the whole situation with an astounding amount of good humor, tolerance and overall...well...kindness. He is very determined to be happy with you. Especially when faced with obstacles and heck, even when not faced with any; man's just prepared to be carefree. He is quite literally the type to tell you to ditch this whole nonsense and just come be content with him because you're the only thing he wants. If your family likes him? Well, shoot, all the better. The world's finally coming to their senses, huh? Honestly, it's pretty impossible not to like the guy because he's so good natured, overall positive and funny he can grow on just about anyone. Genuinely, how in-laws react to him might be opposite of how they'd usually react to Bunny. Bunny's the guy mothers and fathers think they'll like only to be sorely mistaken. King? King is guy they might tragically disapprove of at first only to realize he's the warmest, most hopeful, chillest guy ever.

― Wolfe shows up in his finest suit, in his finest cashmere sweater, his shoes are polished, his hair is slicked back so well it could bounce bullets, he brings an understatedly expensive gift, he's there on cookouts wearing his college Jersey (deliberately), he's got his class ring on display (also deliberately), he's polite, he knows his manners, he understands his etiquette, his sense of humor and attitude is just the right type of mild and inoffensive to suit most people all while having the added edge of him serving in the war to where he'd rightfully come off as exotic enough (but not too exotic and indigestible...and certainly not too frightening or reminding people of the horrors of war instead of its aspirational patriotic aspects, like Barnes would be.) and where Wolfe's lacking on the battlefield he sure as heck compensates for it in civilian circles, causing your family to feel like you've just bagged one of the forgotten Kennedy brothers by being with Mark. Even though he isn't a Wasp himself, Wolfe exudes Waspiness and by extension, he comes off like a prime catch. Suffice to say, your mom brings out a salad fork to impress him and he undoubtedly knows how to use it far better than a compass or radio equipment. Wolfe somehow...fits in with the genteel nuances of day-to-day life. He's everything parents would think Bunny is at first glance all while actually being what was anticipated without any unpleasant surprises. What I'm meaning to say is...Wolfe is not controversial once he rotates back into the world and parents would love that. He gives off this aura of harmless, almost boyish normalcy and he'd make mothers and fathers like him. Which would suit him excellently because he'd want and try to be liked and he'd thrive in it.

― Sure, it might be the late 60's but in spite of all the radical changes going on with society at large around this period in history the world would still be vastly conversative and far too traditional for someone like Elias not to be every parents' prefered ideal son-in-law, or as someone like Barnes might say 'Ain' no family that wants to come home to their dinner table and some cocksucker in there smokin' pot, 'Lias'. And this is true. Regardless of that, Elias is nice --- he's good, kind and polite towards potential fathers and mothers-in-law, almost being amused by their skepticism of him like he's actually weirdly charmed by their subdued mistrust of him. He is aware it is going on. His eyes are wide open to it. He's wise enough to recognize the signs like someone who has a knack for these things. But, fact is he's seen so much in his life already this is almost like child's play to him. He thinks your parents believe what they believe in and they view him the way they view him and they're actually entitled to it and strangely enough he doesn't begrudge them for it, coming off as infinitely patient and almost saint-like in his capacity to forgive like that as well as understanding other people's perspectives, being one of the most understanding and tolerant figurative son-in-laws on the list. He won't change his habits for them, that's for sure, though. He won't become a different person to impress or appease anyone. But in a very complex way he respects their differences compared to him, having a very 'live and let live' attitude. Chances are he downright loves your parents far more than they'll ever love him, but it is in equal measure true that he also loves just being Elias and subtly and softly pushing their buttons through it.

― Would be really hilarious if someone like Barnes of all people was strangely deferential to in-laws to the degree he'd go around referring to them as 'Sir' and 'Ma'am' on a regular basis. Actually, that's all he ever calls them. There's no point in time that their given government names are ever uttered, except maybe on a very rare occasion when he's spewing subdued sarcasm and someone gets called 'Pops'; a gesture few people catch as a taunt nearly in the same vein of him calling someone a 'Boy'. Nobody asked this of him, of course, this level of regard. He's still as intimidating and downright domineering as he does it, yes. And fact is, most commonplace people might tell him it's not necessary to be this formal and tight laced at all times --- it's not the army and there's no ranking system, after all (or is there?) --- but it's still something he continuously does anyway because he might think well, what the heck else is he gonna call them then but 'Sir' and 'Ma'am'? He's overly intense like that. Astoundingly respectful to everyone's shock, perhaps even too much so to the degree it's slightly daunting. And while there's this cliched and misconception that it's actually the parents who are strict towards the son or daughter in law, in Barnes's case, it's quite the opposite because he's the strict party to the point like he comes off as someone older than his significant other's actual parents in attitude and mentality. Probably gives the impression of being the parents' own parent just by default behaving as serious and as stern as he can be. He acts like he owns this family. Like he's the father who's daughter is being wooed instead of the other way around. The type of son-in-law extremely likely to respect your father a bit more or less depending whether or not the man served in any war or not.