#i am prepared to be a cat mother

[princelancey]

tumblr making boops a thing and me discovering that a cat may be having kittens in my garden on the same day feels right, feels good

[jq37]

Aelwyn is sixteen and preparing for midterms at Hudol. Uniform pressed and starched, head full of incantations and spell components. She doesn't mean to bump into Adaine and get orange juice all over her shirt but today isn't the day she's going to start showing weakness.

"You know, you really should watch we're you're going," she says archly, playing off the clumsy mistake as a purposeful jab.

Playing it off a bit too well because, the next thing she knows, Adaine is flipping her off and a bolt of queasy looking, green energy is coming towards her. Ray of Sickness. And she can't spare the spell slot for Counterspell because she needs it for her exams.

"You little bitch!" Aelwyn says once she's emptied the contents of her stomach down the front of her shirt.

"Good luck with your exams," Adaine says sweetly.

Aelwyn is eighteen and the oldest, mangiest cat she's ever seen in her life has just vomited on her shoes.

"My," she says, casting a shield spell around her ankles to stop the cat from clawing at them. "You weren't kidding. He is a little bastard, isn't he?"

The shelter volunteer looks mortified. "Oh, gods! I am so sorry. I tried to warn you--I mean, not that I'm blaming you but--"

"No, it's alright. I did ask you to show me stragglers."

The shelter worker gestures to another pen on the other side of the room. "I can show you the kittens we just got in or there are some very well behaved older cats as well if you'd--"

But Aelwyn cuts her off, scooping up the old cat--though she holds him at arm's length for now, just to be safe. "No need. I haven't changed my mind. I'll take this one." She looks at the tag on his collar. "Hector."

Aelwyn is three and, as of a month ago, no longer the youngest Abernant.

She's had baby dolls in the past but never a baby sister and this is exciting new territory. She's full of questions. When is she going to be able to walk? When is she going to be able to talk? When will she be old enough to have lembas bread instead of formula?

Her parents seem less fascinated by the new addition to the family than she is but her mother is amused when she slaps away the hand of a colleague of her father's who tried to touch Adaine before sanitizing his hands, standing between the much larger man and her sister.

"So defensive. Perhaps she'll be an abjurer."

When Aelwyn asks what that is, her mother says that it's a kind of magical protector and she likes that a lot. That sounds like a good thing to be.

At night, Adaine cries. Except, she doesn't hear it because the mobile above her crib is etched with runes that cast the Silence spell.

"But what if she gets hurt?" Aelwyn asks.

Her father brushes her off. That's what the Unseen Servants are for. But she thinks that's what an abjurer might be for too and even though she isn't one yet, that doesn't mean she can't start practicing.

So, every night, Aelwyn waits until her parents have put Adaine down for bed and then tiptoes into her room. She checks to see if Adaine is silently wailing and if she is (and even sometimes if she isn't) she presses her face between the bars of the crib and sticks her little hand over Adaine's face.

"Don't cry," she says, even though the Silence spell mutes her words as completely as the tears. "Mum said I'm an abjurer. Nothing will get you. Don't cry, baby."

Adaine grabs her hand with impressive grip strength for something so small and, within a few minutes, she's trancing peacefully.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her sister is off to save the world again. This time from a Night Yorb--whatever that is.

It feels cruel that Adaine should have to go risk her life again so soon after she just almost died--not almost died, she did die before being raised by her cleric.

She wants to come with, to help in some way. Surely she could be helpful--last quest they brought Gilear for Helio's sake!

But Adaine doesn't ask her and she can't bring herself to say the words she needs to have the conversation she wants. So, instead, she lightly whaps Adaine on the shoulder with her spellbook as she's packing for the quest.

"I know you haven't done much studying lately what with your grades being based on how many hobgoblins you kill or whatever ridiculous system Aguefort has cooked up," Adaine rolls her eyes at that, "But if you don't mind a little cram session before you leave tomorrow, I can show you how to cast Teleport like I said. Might help you stay a touch less dead on your quest."

Her tone is light but her eyes betray her: Please, please, please don't die again.

Adaine's expression softens but then she scoffs, playing her half of their game. "I don't know what a Hudol dropout who's been in jail for the past year is gonna teach me but do your best."

Aelwyn is seven and her father is cross with her.

"Really Aelwyn," he says and even though they're talking via crystal she can feel the frost of his glare. "You thought it was appropriate to call me at work for no good reason? How many times have I told you and your sister to not bother me while I'm working."

She hates the word bother. She doesn't want to be a bother. She tries very hard not to be. Maybe she just didn't explain herself well enough.

"I know, father. But Addy got really scared and panicky on the playground. She was breathing really hard and--"

Her father makes a noise of disgust. "I don't have time for this. She is in primary school now. Stop coddling her. And her name is Adaine, not Addy. Please speak properly. I'm raising you better than that."

He hangs up before she can say anything else.

Aelwyn is eighteen and most of the claw marks on her arms have healed, which is nice. On her lap asleep is Hector who has apparently decided he likes her enough to use her as a radiator but not enough to submit to medical treatment without using her arms as a scratching post.

"You little heat vampire," she says as she slides her thumb across the screen of her crystal, searching for a video that will help her out. Eventually she finds one that looks promising and she calls it up.

On the screen, a halfling is standing next to a cat who is actively shredding her sweater with its claws. "You're going to be tempted to use some kind of a shield spell when applying the ointment," says the halfling. "But cats can smell abjuration magic and they don't love it. You won't get close enough to do the job. Isn't that right my darling?"

In response, her cat hacks up a hairball.

"Darling indeed," she says under her breath.

But even laced with sarcasm, the word is sweeter against her tongue than she anticipated.

She sinks her hand into Hector's fur and scratches his back for a few moments before tentatively speaking aloud. "Sleeping well, my darling?"

Hector says nothing--he's asleep and a cat. But warmth blooms in Aelwyn's chest--more than enough to make up for what Hector is leeching from her.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her father has just given her the most horrible command she's ever received in her life--and she's counting being made to sink a ship full of people in that calculation.

She knows her father doesn't expect her to delicately extricate the knowledge he needs from Adaine's mind. He expects her to get it at all costs. To ransack and pillage the memories if necessary with no heed of the consequences on her psyche. He'd probably prefer it that way--the more broken Adaine is, the easier it will be to mold her into a version of herself that is more useful to him.

Aelwyn is usually a smooth talker and a convincing liar but now, she stumbles all over her words, babbling out a stream of deflections and pleas as her heart squeezes tighter and tighter in her chest until she can't hold back the truth that she's been suppressing for years anymore.

"Adaine's just…she's a baby."

Aelwyn is eighteen and her apartment is full of cats.

She's always thought that the phrase, "One thing led to another" was a bit of a cop out--clearly there were key steps between point A and point B being glossed over--but in this case, there is truly no better way for her to articulate how she went from zero cats to ten cats in such a short amount of time.

She's sure that if she was still living with Jawbone, he'd have something to say about it but that's exactly why she isn't currently living with Jawbone.

She portions out food for all of the cats, saving Hector for last because he likes to eat curled up next to her.

"My darling baby boy," she says, lifting him onto the couch with her because the jump up is a bit much for him and his old bones. She kisses him on the top of the head and then pulls out her crystal. She scrolls mindlessly for a bit before checking her messages despite the fact that there's conspicuously no notifications.

Not that she has many people to expect texts from but she hasn't heard from Adaine in a few weeks and it's unsettling. When they weren't getting along, they were still living under the same roof. She was able to keep tabs on her, more or less. Now, they're closer than they've been in ages but barely talking.

I'm the older sister, I suppose, Aelwyn thinks. I should take the initiative.

She pets Hector with one hand and drafts a message with another: Are you alive, bitch?

She's about to press send but then she frowns and deletes the draft. After a few moments of thought, she taps out a new message: Can't believe I'm gonna say this. Miss my little sister. Everything all right?

Aelwyn is seventeen--though she doesn't feel like it.

Her mind is telling her that she's sixteen and that she was just been broken out of a jail cell in Solace but Adaine is telling her that she's just been broken out of an entirely different prison after being tortured for months even though she doesn't remember any of that.

But her body feels frail and Adaine says she's been in her mind which means she must have used the hard reset.

She's suddenly feeling very vulnerable--not because of the disorientation or the of the levels of exhaustion she can feel weighing on her like leaden chains. No, it's because of the fact that Adaine using the reset means that she must have read the treacle-y note that she left there for her to find.

It was just an insurance policy, she tells herself. There was wisdom to buttering up your savior to make sure she'd do what you needed her to do.

She manages to mostly believe it. But the small, truthful part of herself that knows how deeply she meant the words is so uncomfortable that she antagonizes Adaine until she's annoyed enough to hit her with a spell, sending her into blissful unconsciousness.

Aelwyn is nineteen and she's going to kill her mother.

Well, not alone of course. Adaine deserves the kill at least as much as she does if not more. It'll be a group effort.

It's a strange mix--the cold fury at her mother mixed with the warmth she feels for her sister, sitting across the table from her. She summons a flame to her palm, a preview of what their mother has waiting for her. She watches Adaine's eyes harden with resolve and she sees the face of her baby sister, left to wail alone silently for hours, soothed by her presence. "Let's get her."

"Yes, my dear," she says, the endearment coming freely as if this has always been their dynamic. "We'll get her."

But there will be time for that later. Right now, it's time for ice cream and seeing Adaine so content in such a simple pleasure causes the warmth in her to surge so suddenly that it would be startling if it wasn't so pleasant. The urge to voice it is so powerful that she doesn't know that would have been able to stop it at any point in life, let alone now.

"I hope we get to eat ice cream and cast magic forever," she says, words that would have been impossible for her to say one short year ago and impossible not to say now.

And, to her delight, Adaine agrees.

[cloudshuffle]

cuteness aggression. yan!penacony

Sunday

"This feels... dumb. I'm not a Halovian."

Sunday looks up from last-minute paperwork, pausing. Something unfamiliar stirs in his chest. He tugs on his gloves.

"It's not dumb," he replies smoothly. "You look... wonderful."

A small pair of wings sits just behind your ears, like his own. They're not real, of course, but they function just fine - letting everyone know who you belonged to.

He rises from his seat, moving toward you. You step back until your back hits the door, shrinking away from his hand.

But Sunday simply tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, rubbing a thumb gently over the inside of your wrist with his other hand. He leans into you slightly, radiating heat like a small star, blowing sweet breath across your face.

"Adorable..." he mutters, half to himself.

"Sunday," you say, voice weak, though you aren't sure what you need to tell him. You feel very much like a small thing being cornered by a predator, his eyes dark, pupils blown.

Then he pinches your cheek, so swiftly and out of character for him you blink.

Before you can protest, he massages your face lightly with both hands.

This must be what street cats feel whenever you accost them with your affection.

He releases you just as suddenly, patting you on the head as he passes. "Prepare yourself. The guests will be arriving anytime soon."

Well, you suppose there's a first time for everything.

Aventurine

"Good evening, my sickly angel."

You scowl at him from under blankets, a cold compress on your head. "You're not funny."

"On the contrary." He lifts your medicine. "I think I am very funny."

You complain audibly, but that's about as much as you can do with your energy drained by the fever. Aventurine feeds you as patiently as a mother with a small child, though perhaps with twice as much condescension.

"Stop staring," you grumble. "It's weird."

The bed sinks as Aventurine leans over, gathering you up in his arms. "You're like a kitten when you're sick. All angry and no claws."

You hiss when he squeezes you, only belatedly realising that you're proving his point. "Kittens have very sharp claws, excuse me."

"A declawed kitten, then." He rubs his cheek onto the top of your head. "You smell different, too."

"That's weird!"

[fieldofdaisiies]

A Bargain

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: angst | words: 2,2k | warnings: this story explores a little darker themes like the loss of eyesight due to fire. thank you so much for beta reading @moonlightazriel me helping me get back into x reader writing💛

Fire. Nothing but unbearable heat and blinding light, like icy spikes piercing your skin. The brightness was overwhelming until everything went dark. Blank. Plain. No colour. No shape. No figure. Only darkness. And deafening silence.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Your fingers start to tremble around the book the moment a soft breeze brushes your legs and tells you that somewhere in the Library a door was opened. Your senses, touch, hearing and scent, have sharpened once you‘ve lost your eyesight and you are immediately alerted that someone is here. In your personal space, in your sanctuary, at this time. During the night!

You draw in a deep inhale, move your feet apart so you stand in stance. Your fingers curl into a fist  and then–

“Who is there?” you find yourself asking despite the unease brewing inside of you. You know that no one who could cause harm could technically enter this place, but still you always want to know who is close. Who is coming, so you can prepare yourself. Brace yourself.

Fear is rising within you because whoever is nearing you has loud footsteps — it is a male most definitely and if there is one thing in this world you almost fear as much as fire it is men. You try to steady yourself, listening closer, trying to make out if the steps sound familiar (if they belong to the general of the Illyrian armies) but they don’t. He walks slower, and his boots have a different sound when they pad over the library floor. It must be someone else and you—

Someone nears you and the words to ask again who it is die in your throat that suddenly seems so dry. You turn your front to the shelf, hoping to maybe go unnoticed, but the Mother doesn’t hear your prayers. A person halts next to you and you flinch, sucking in a sharp breath of air. Your body is trembling as you press against the shelf, grinding your teeth so hard your jaw starts to ache.

Your throat works on a swallow and some more silent prayers leave you that whoever is close just walks by and—

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” a gentle male voice says, interrupting the tense silence. The air whooshes out of your lungs, your blood chilling because you know there is no escaping now that he has seen you. But somehow, all worry and fear seems to dissipate when he speaks up again. He has no brutal voice, there is nothing harsh or hard in it – it sounds melodic. Almost like the voice of a singer. “I apologise, I really didn’t mean to scare you. I had no idea someone was still around at this time.”

You hesitate before you turn around or give the stranger an answer, but something soft, almost like a feather, brushes your lower arm. It is nothing more than a breath, like a cloud, it may be—

A shadow. And it is soothing and gives you a feeling of comfort. You have felt it before, shadows, like a cat's tail brushing your legs.

“You are the Shadowsinger, right?” Slowly, you turn to him, remembering Gwyn’s stories about the male with the dancing shadows around him who is training her now and who has sometimes come down here to collect books. You should have remembered his footsteps!

“I am a shadowsinger, yes,” the male says, “but you can call me—” His voice cuts off momentarily. And you know what he has realised. His eyes have probably landed on yours and he realised that you can‘t see. That you are blind. And that since the fateful day almost a decade ago.

“Azriel,” he eventually finishes, finally having found his words to continue.

You inhale a deep breath, and say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Azriel. I am Y/N.” A smile appears on your lips. “How can I help you?”

"I am here to pick up some books Gwyn suggested to me." The shadowsinger keeps his polite distance, you can feel that, his stance broad but not intimidating and you are thankful for that. Despite his kind aura, he is still a male, a stranger, and you always have to be careful. You can’t ever risk anything again. Never again.

“Gwyn said I would find them somewhere around here, but I truly have no idea where I should start to look.”

A grin tugs at the corners of your lips at the mention of her name. Gwyn is your closest friend down here and you love her like a little sister. "She is very fond of you, Shadowsinger,” you say, voice tinged with admiration.

You can’t see the smile appearing on Azriel’s face but you can feel it, how his heart is filled with relief and joy at your revelation.

"She is quite talented," Azriel comments.

"And beautiful…" Your voice almost gains a dreamy touch, and you place the book you have been holding the entire time back on the shelf. Azriel doesn’t say anything, and you know where his thoughts have gone to.

"My eyes may no longer be able to see, Shadowsinger, but my heart can. And that’s how I know that the priestess is beautiful - she has a soul of pure gold."

"I think she isn’t the only one down here who this applies to." This time he takes a small step forward, only a little, while trying to calm his vividly swirling shadows. You can feel them brush against you and his scent fills your nostrils - cedar and night-chilled mist.

They try to stretch out while he tries as hard as he can to hold them close.

"Are you talking about Merrill?" A little mischievous giggle leaves you right after you say her name and it even draws a chuckle from Azriel. The sound is wonderful, rich and deep, beautiful.

"I think you know exactly who I am talking about." 

You feel how a blush warms your cheeks and quickly avert your gaze. "Which books do you need?"

He tells you which ones he is looking for, speaking slowly, and in his wonderful, deep voice. You know immediately where to find them all, having memorised every small detail of the Library,

“Follow me.” You set out with a smile, waving at him to come and follow you. You have ventured through the corridors filled with hundreds of bookshelves and thousands of books many times and know exactly where and when you have to turn.

You can’t see it but you feel his curiosity, his slight astonishment about you and it makes you giggle. You walk swiftly, your robes swishing over the floor when you turn one corner after the other and finally arrive at your first destination. Your fingers trail over the backs of the books, touching and feeling the binding until you grab two books and hand them to him.

The next ones are on a lower floor and the last one even lower. 

“Why are you here at this time of the day?” you find yourself asking him, walking down a narrow corridor. You have come to like narrower space because they make you feel more secure than wide, open spaces. “Or rather night, Shadowsinger.” 

“I could ask you the same - why are you awake at this time?” You can hear the amusement in his voice about your little bantering, and a smile appears on your face, but fades when you start to answer. “It is calmer at night - no rustling pages, no shuffling feet, no hushed conversation. I can focus easier during this time of the day.”

“That’s understandable,” Azriel hums, “that’s partly why I prefer night over day. No rushing, loud people, no bright lights, no— I am so sorry. I didn‘t mean to—”

“Don’t apologise. You can see and you are allowed to be affected by light. It can be too much, I know this, I used to be able to see it once too.”

“I still should be more careful with my words.”

“I don’t want you to be. I want you to be yourself. You are a polite male and I am not made of glass. I don’t break so easily, so please, speak your mind.” You hand him a book from a shelf, after letting your fingers trail over the spine to make sure it is the right one. “I have always preferred night over day. The people are more relaxed, nothing is rushing them and they are not so loud.”

“I understand. I prefer it when it is calm too.”

“Unless there is music. Have you heard Gwyn sing?”

“I have,” he says with fondness.

“And do you sing too? You are a shadowsinger.”

There is a pause and you worry he won’t answer at all, but—

“I do. Sometimes. Only when I am alone.”

You hum in answer, not wanting to push him to sing for you although you are dying to hear it. It must be wonderful with his deep tenor and his velvety voice.

“Is there a chance one can hear one day?” Your lips quirk into a bright grin.

“No, but maybe one day in the far far future.” He blows out a long breath. “Now I have a question for you.” 

You brace yourself, lifting your chin to face his face, making out nothing but blurry surroundings. You would love to reach out to trace his face, his shoulders, to feel what he looks like and try to picture him in your mind.

“Would you like to join the other priestesses, Cassian and me for training one day?”

Your heart slams to a halt, pondering. Somehow you would love it — leave this pöace for once, but training? You hesitate, the word yes burning on your tongue, but you swallow it down. It would be useless. There would be nothing you could do and you would only make a fool out of you. So instead of agreeing, you curtly shake your head and take a step back. “A kind offer, but I must decline.”

“Because of—”

“Yes, Azriel. Because of my eyes. I can’t see, which means I can’t train.”

“That’s not true. Yes, you can’t see, but for training you don’t only need your eyes. Let me put together some exercises and in return you join us for the next training. I can prove to you that you are just as capable at training and fighting as the others are.”

“Is this a promise?”

“We can make a bargain if you like.” There is a hint of amusement in his voice that makes a silly, little grin appear on your lips and erase the former worry etched upon your features. You reach out your hand. 

“A bargain it is - I‘ll join you for training, and in return you will sing for me.”

There is a pause and for a moment you worry that he won’t agree. That it was a silly idea and he will be offended and just leave it. You don’t want whatever has started between you here not to end already. You want to—

“I accept.” Azriel also extends his hand and the moment your palms touch, lightning zips between your hands. It runs throughout your entire body, but it is not the only thing you can feel. There are scars. Scars that adorn his palms, most definitely his whole hands and your heart cracks. What has been down to him? How did he get them?

Your thoughts are swiftly cut off when lightning zips between your palms and then you feel it, like a warm and thin strap something curls around your upper arm and you know it, the legends are true — when you make a bargain you‘ll receive a tattoo as a testament of it.

Azriel has fallen silent the moment your hands part and you wonder if he is examining the tattoo. You wish you could see it, know what it looks like, and admire it.

“Let me describe it to you,” Azriel starts, and then you feel how he gently takes your arm, lifting it slightly. “It‘s a thin silver band around your upper arm, almost invisible, and where the two ends meet there are three small stars. The first is slightly larger than the second and the third one is the biggest.” He strokes his thumb over your arm, a natural action he probably doesn’t even notice but your hair starts to stand on end.

“Mine is almost identical to yours. It is in the same place. Only that the band looks slightly broader.”

“I think I would love it if I could see it.”

“I am sure you would.” You can hear the smile in his voice and return the gesture. “I love it.”

So can hear him shift, moving a step away from you. “I think we should both sleep now, Y/N, but I‘ll see you tomorrow for training. I‘m sure Gwyn can lend you something to wear if you only have your robes.”

“I will ask her.” You pull your lower lip between your teeth when nervousness about the following day starts to trickle in.

“Perfect, until tomorrow then.” He hums. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Shadowsinger.”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @cadiawrites @bookishbroadwaybish @tele86 @fuckingsimp4azriel @berryzxx

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

The Godswood

Robb Stark x reader

Summary: When the newest Lady of the North is chased into the woods, the lords of the north search for Robb Stark's wife

Warning: canon-level violence, no use of y/n, wildlings, nudity (but no smut), not beta-d (I literally typed this on my phone and posted it)

Word Count: 2.8K

Masterlist

“Robb?” the new Lady of the North’s voice rang through their chambers. “I thought I should go to the Godswood to pray,” she relayed her plans for the day.

Robb immediately exited the washroom of their chambers. “Is it necessary for you to pray in the Godswood? There is a perfectly good sept near the Great Hall.”

“I know but even you say you feel more inclined towards the nature of the north when you pray at the Heart Tree,” she shrugged.

Robb sighed. “But I am unable to bring you today. You know I have that meeting with my father and the bannermen,” the young lord argued.

“Robb, I will be perfectly alright,” she insisted, giving him a loving yet exasperated look. “If it makes you feel better I will bring guards with me but I am telling you I will be okay in the few minutes it will take me to wish for the health of your family.”

Robb looked reluctant still but grumbled out an agreement. “Fine,” he agreed, moving closer to his wife so as to press a kiss to her temple. “But do not stray from your guards. The Godswood can be dangerous.”

“I won’t,” she complied, calling after him as he returned to the washroom to continue shaving and she exited their chambers. Making her way to her father-in-law’s office, she was already shivering through the drafty hallways of the Stark family’s residence within Winterfell. Not being from the north had made residing here difficult in terms of becoming accustomed to the weather. But her husband was always willing to warm her up. And her mother-in-law, another northerner by marriage only, had given her tips of how to prepare for the cold.

Finally making it to the Warden of the North’s chambers, the guards allowed her to enter after announcing her presence in Lord Stark’s office.

Entering, she found that the first of the bannermen had already arrived. “Lord Karstark, Lord Amber,” she greeted the men. “My apologies, my lords, I did not realized your meeting had started.”

“Nonsense,” Lord Stark dismissed his daughter-in-laws concerns, always happy to see the girl that seemed to brighten his son’s life. Lord Stark considered himself to have made a few very good decisions in his life. One of them being his decision to marry Cat. But another one was orchestrating his eldest son’s marriage to the girl that stood before him. “The lords here were just telling me about their lands before the true meetings began. Is my son ready?”

“No,” she answered. “You know how particular he gets about his hair.”

The men erupted into laughter. “Wow,” Lord Karstark began, still recovering from his laughter. “Wish I had her for a daughter-in-law. My son refuses to even neaten his beard.”

“Yes, well, my son finds her input very valuable,” Lord Stark chuckled. “What can I do for you, dear?”

“I had just hoped you would assign me a guard. Robb insisted I take one into the Godswood.”

“He is smart to do so,” his father commended. “I will send you with two. Just to be safe.”

She gave her father-in-law a bashful smile. “Thank you,” she bid, exiting the office.

“Come,” the guard waiting outside the office bid. “I will assign your guards.” She followed him out of Ned Stark’s chambers to the hall where several had already been waiting for assignments. He looked to two of them, giving them orders to take her to the Weirwood tree.

“Aye,” both agreed in sync before breaking from the rest of the group. The pair then stepped up to their charge for the day. “My lady,” they both greeted.

She nodded to them in acknowledgement. “Well seeing as the assignment was already explained to you, let us go,” she explained, trying to relieve any awkwardness. She truly loathed to have guards follow her around wherever she went. In her childhood, guards were only ever needed when she left her family’s lands. But Robb had insisted on her either being with him or with armed sentries whenever she even left the Stark residence. Even just to visit the stables or library he insisted she have some sort of protection. Claiming that technically Winterfell was a fortress that could be under attack at any time.

Not much was said as the trio made their way out of the walls of Winterfell and into the forests surrounding the fortress. As she went, she could not help but shiver as the cold winds nipped at her neck and face. She dreaded the day winter actually descended upon Westeros as apparently the northerners considered this more “mild” chill to be summer as well.

Finally reaching the Heart Tree, adorned with a carved face, the new Lady Stark fell before the long reaching branches. Just as her face fell to her interlocked hands, a snapping twig broke her thoughts. Looking up, she found a wildling fifty feet or so away from her. She stumbled back, falling from her knees and onto her rear, her hands catching in the dirt.

The guard posted nearest to the wildling immediately came between her and the wild looking man. Her heart hammered in her chest as she observed his tangled hair and overworn clothes.

A yell from her other side drew her attention to the other guard who was now brandishing his sword against another wildling man holding a spear. Quickly scrambling to her feet, she moved closer to the Weirwood as if it’s branches would swat away any threats to her. Looking around frantically, she found three more wildlings creeping out of the trees.

“My lady, run!” one of the guards shouted as one of the wildlings jumped to attack him.

Scared beyond belief, she obeyed, rounding the Heart Tree to run away from the grizzled men. She had no idea where to go, she just prayed there weren’t more waiting for her behind the tree. As she sprinted through the forest, she spotted none but she was not naive enough to believe her two guards could hold five of them off. She wept as she ran, holding up her dress as she ran so it would not trip her or snag on any stray branches.

She had no idea how far she ran until she truly could not breathe. Taking a moment to rest against the trunk of a tree, she caught her breath. But it soon evaded her again as she was overcome by sobs. Her guards were surely dead now. And by the time anyone noticed she was lost the men who killed them would likely have caught up with her or she would be so lost she would never be found. Completely rattled by the idea of falling into those men’s clutches, she continued on, this time at a walking pace. Remembering that these wildlings would surely be skilled trackers, she did her best to disturb the flora as little as possible whilst taking an erratic path.

~

The guards who held the western gate of Winterfell looked in reluctant astonishment at the two bleeding guards before them. “Evander,” a sentry addressed his bleeding friend. “What happened?”

“We were ambushed by wildlings. Get Lord Stark and the bannermen, Lady Stark is still out there. We told her to run.”

A guard who overheard wasted no time, running to the Great Hall as fast as he could. He relayed the message to all the guards standing outside of their Lords’ meetings and they immediately parted to let the man through.

“Forgive me, my lords,” the guard announced his presence as he burst through the doors. “Wildlings attacked Lady Stark in the Godswood. Some of the wildlings were slain but she is still out there,” he breathed heavily.

Robb was the first to stand, doing it so fast his chair fell behind him. “Saddle my horse,” he ordered, already moving to exit the room.

Behind him, his father also stood. He looked at the still seated, mildly shocked men. “You want more titles and lands? The first man to find my daughter-in-law will have the moors.” Each man immediately stood, barking orders at the advisors who accompanied them to prepare for the search.

Eddard followed after his son who had already made it outside and was saddling his horse. “Son,” he called, catching the young man’s attention. “Just wait a moment so we may organize the search.”

Robb’s eyes flashed with worry at the prospect. “Father, just three harvests ago wildlings slaughtered the Farlands. I have to at least begin a preliminary search.”

Before the Lord of Winterfell could disagree, the commander of his guard ran up. “My lord, we have a dozen or so men prepared. Would you like us to begin a preliminary search?” he asked. Everyone in the North who had dealt with wildlings knew just how dire the situation was. They almost certainly knew the terrain better than the newest Lady of the North.

“Yes,” Robb immediately agreed, pulling himself onto his horse. His father nodded to the commander, and the initial search party saddled their horses and rode for the western gate. In their company was one of the guards who had initially gone to the Heart Tree. The other, too injured to accompany them, laid in the maester’s chambers having his wounds dressed.

Once the group made it to the Heart Tree, they found remnants of the attack. Two wildlings laid dead in the brush. “As far as I know there are three more, my lord,” the initial sentry informed Robb as he dismounted from his horse. “I had told your wife to run and she went to the opposite of the tree,” he said, pointing west. “They attacked us and we managed to fend the five of them off but once they realized she was getting away, three of them followed after her.”

Robb wanted to demand to know why they had not chased after his wife but he held his tongue. He just prayed for their sakes they were right in their judgement to return for reinforcements. “Everyone head west and spread out. She’ll know to have put as much distance between her and the wildlings as possible. And search for tracks, if she was concealing hers, the wildlings won’t have bothered.” A chorus of agreements rang out as each man took off.

~

The search had been on for hours. By now nearly every man within five miles of Winterfell had been out to search.

It was painful for Ned to watch his son slowly lose hope as the hours wore on and it became increasingly darker. Riding over to Robb, he spoke, “We will find her, son.”

Robb only nodded, holding his jaw clenched tightly. He was reluctant to admit that his wife of only two moons may already be gone. She was not of the north, she had no idea how to navigate the woods. And she would be perfectly defenseless running across any wildlings or creatures.

“I should have never let her even leave Winterfell,” he lamented.

“You cannot blame yourself,” Ned lectured. “Son, if you are going to become the Warden of the North, you cannot take every loss as personal.”

“I know, but this is my wife. The first person I am supposed to protect. If I cannot even find her in my own lands how can I lead them?”

“It will come with experience,” Ned assured. “And you did nothing wrong, you protected her as well as anyone could have.”

Before Robb could further degrade himself and argue, several calls rang out through the forests. Finally, they came near enough to be clear. “We found her!” echoed through the seemingly empty forest. Robb let out a shuddered cry of relief as he took off toward the voices, leaving his father behind.

As he rode he spotted more and more of his men, each time becoming more and more eager that they were the one who had found her. But each time they just ushered him on, pointing him further and further north. He continued on until he found several men gathered, lit only by their torches and the moonlight. They all turned to see their heir, immediately parting to reveal his wife sitting upon a fallen trunk.

“Robb!” she cried as she saw his horse approach. Her voice was broken with tears. As soon a he reached the clearing, he dismounted, immediately clambering to his wife. He had not even embraced her yet before he was throwing his fur cloak over her quivering shoulders, surely shivering from the chill that had by now reached her bones.

He immediately pulled her into his embrace, holding her tighter than he ever had before. He cared little for decorum as she buried her face into the warmth of his neck and sobbed. He himself wanted to cry in relief but held it in. When he finally pulled away only to look at her, he found several scratches on her face and mud adorning her dress. “What…” he began softly as he reached a hand up to her face.

“Just the scratch of the branches,” she assured, gently grasping his wrist in her icy hands as he continued to hold her face. “And I admit I did fall down a hill in my haste,” she explained sheepishly. Robb was sure that if she were not so incredibly cold he would feel the warmth of her blush through his gloves.

Finally Eddard Stark arrived, finding Robb holding his wife as if she were the most precious thing in the world. He let out a private sigh of relief seeing the girl relatively unharmed. Given his son’s level of depression just at the mere idea of his wife being lost to him, he was reluctant to even imagine what Robb would do had they found evidence of his wife’s death.

“It’s dark, the lady needs to warm up and rest. Let us go back to Winterfell. My lords,” he addressed the men who helped in the search, “you may spend the night in the guesthouses. Word of the day’s events have already been sent to your families.”

Robb stood from his crouched position, pulling his wife up with him as if he were afraid she’d slip between his fingers. “Come,” he bid, “you will ride with me.” She only nodded, her chattering teeth providing the answer she could not. She held Robb’s hand and with the other she clutched Robb’s cloak around her shoulders. He helped her onto his horse, moving her so she sat sidesaddle so he could sit behind her. With both arms around her to take the reins, she immediately took refuge in the warmth of his arms.

As they made the journey back through the woods, Robb wrestled with his thoughts. He wanted to scold her and tell her this is exactly why he did not want her out of Winterfell but the other part did not want to add to her distress. Similarly he wanted to ask about the wildlings but at the risk of being told something he was not ready to hear and stressing her out more, he elected to stay quiet.

But it was her who broke the silence. “I’m sorry for questioning your judgment and going. And for endangering your guards,” she apologized meekly, her voice heavy with guilt.

Robb immediately hushed her. “It’s no concern. I am just glad you’re okay,” he said with a kiss to the top of her head.

Once they reached Winterfell, Robb was quick to usher his wife past all the guards and lords, eager to get her into a warm building. As soon as the couple entered the Keep, she felt as if the biting cold was melting from her bones. Robb once again ushered her to their chambers.

His wife immediately went to the fireplace, standing in front of it trying to warm her hands. Behind her, Robb softly grasped her shoulders, resting his chin in the crook of her neck. “I sent ahead for a bath to be prepared to warm you.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, still feeling the harsh cold of her skin. He released her only enough so she could head to the washroom where she found the tub full of steaming water.

Robb, as gently and cautiously as possible, slowly stripped her of her clothes. Mere weeks ago she would have shied away from his gaze but his constant praise and affection had emboldened her to kiss him deeply even when she stood nude against his completely clothed frame. “Bathe with me,” she asked, stepping away to slip into the water.

Never one to decline his wife’s attentions, Robb quickly disrobed before sliding in the tub behind her. He wrapped his arms around around her, pulling her into his chest as they soaked in the warmth of the water and each other.

Masterlist

[yassiur]

I wanna grow a family with you.

Kinich x fem! reader

warnings: suggestive, but no smut, gore, Mualani being the most thoughtful girl ever😍 pregnancy, miscarriage, sexual abuse taken place (not mentioned but its implied), Established relationship with kinich, kinich being the best husband ever omfg. MODERN AU

Notes: THIS IS MY FIRST FINISHED ONE SHOT YALL OMFG

October 6th, 20**

It was 3 AM, you suddenly got the urge to cook yourself a midnight snack —well, more like morning snack—. You go into the kitchen to find a box of cereal and some fresh milk to aliviate your hunger.

As you're eating, you scroll down instagram reels to find a variety of videos about mothers taking care of their children, and you find yourself craving to experience that motherhood, "It's just baby fever, it'll pass." you whisper to yourself.

It infact did not pass, waking up you find yourself suddenly thinking of how you and your husband —kinich, would raise your child together, would your child be as quiet as Kinich? Or would they babble whenever they get the chance? You continue to lay in your shared bed, zoning out with the fantasies of you and kinich growing a family together.

Kinich stirs awake, immedietly pulling you into his embrace as he takes in the scent of your hair, you don't know whether you should tell him about how you feel ready to take care of a family with him, so you just dig your face into the crook of his neck.

November 11th, 20**

Preparing for Kinich's birthday was relatively difficult, knowing your husband was more fond of relaxing in the quiet whispers of the wind while laying down on the grass, you couldn't do a picnic, since Kinich usually comes home at around 5 PM, so you decide that for his birthday, you'll cook his favorite dish, give him your gift you've been hiding from him for a week now, and lastly, offer him his own family to love and cherish.

In 2 hours, he'd arrive home, which gives you enough time to organize the decorations around the guest room, alongside the table is a few of his favorite desserts and snacks, and in the middle of it is placed a beautiful cake with his theme, and a few silly drawings of you and him getting married. You had just drawn 5 papers of you and him in different scenarios, you and him when you were children, you and him as Wendy and Peter Parker, you and him as loving cats, you and him as , and finally, you and him, as you and him... with a child???

You contemplate whether you should keep this child, you didnt even know if theyd inherit your genes or his genes, it felt weird, but you guessed this could work as a real life foreshadowing, "If he notices this, then I can just easily bring up the topic, and...wait for his response to all this.." you think to yourself. quickly sticking the different drawings somewhere random but visible enough for him to notice.

Kinich arrives home, the light's absence not going unnoticed by him.

"[Name]?" he calls out, a slightly worried tone applied to his call, removing his shoes and placing his bag at the hook of the door before hurrying his steps to the guest room.

Light suddenly flashes his eyes as a loud familiar tune fills his ears, a loud, birthday-like tune--?

Kinich opens his eyes to find green and pixelated decorations around the room, as well as a small yet beautifully made cake at the center of the diner table, written on it was "Happy birthday Kinich! -Your bebz".

While checking the decorations around the room, Kinich suddenly feels weight behind him, soft arms wrapping around his waist. He quickly turns around to be met with your joyful expression, "Happy birthday! Do you like the decorations?" He doesn't smile back, looking around the room as if he's supposed to rate it. "C'mon! You know you like it!!" Your pouting face is not unnoticed fortunately, he smirks to himself, "could've added a few decorations on that empty wall", he points at the ONE wall you didn't decorate. You roll your eyes at him before grasping his hand to start the activities you planned to do with him for his birthday.

Kinich sits down at the table, finally finishing a slice of his cake after almost covering your face with frosting. Throughout the fun, he noticed your eyes seemed to wander to the fridge, he initially thought you just seemed hungry, but decided to look back at what made you so interested into the fridge.

A badly drawn version of the two of you, except theres a third person, a very short person..

You catch his gaze on the drawings, "Oh! Yeah, uh...Kinich, you know...", he gazes back to you

"I wanted to tell you something for weeks, and I just want to know what you think is all." You fidget your hands, avoiding his gaze

"Is there something bothering you?" he asks, you sigh as you reply, "yes, kind of, I- I wanted to know what you think of..having a uhh..." you stumble on your words, just realizing how nervous you are for his response to what you're implying.

"What's wrong? tell me", He grows closer, gently clasping both your hands, rubbing his thumb to soothe you. You gulp and exhale in an attempt to relax yourself before speaking,

"I want to have a baby with you," you shakily state up, he pauses to process your words, he seemed hesitant, even.

You frown, knowing that he does not seem to react well with the news. You hear him sigh before replying with a question, "Are you sure?" He suddenly questions, you gulp. "I will support you with our child, but I want to know that you yourself is prepared for this change," he looks up to you in all seriousness. You avoid his gaze, thinking deeply about this, turning your head back to him, you decide, "yes, I want to create our family, and take care of them by your side," you answer, smiling lightly.

his hand drops your left, bringing the right one to his lips to lightly kiss, even then, you could feel the affection he held for you in that kiss, "then, for my birthday...will you give me this gift?" he asks with a new emotion reflecting in his eyes.

You wake up, memories of last night flooding back to you as you look around, noticing the lack of clothing between you and Kinich. Feeling sick, you quickly feel that this is one of the signs you're pregnant, and hurriedly run to the bathroom to relieve that sick feeling.

Kinich groggily wakes up, quickly running a hand up his hair as the events of last night had transpired back to him. Red creeps up his face as he tries to find you with his hands.

The left side of his bed is empty, and he peeks an eye to find that you're nowhere near his sight, panic arises in him to quickly put on a piece of clothing and find you.

Kinich hears gagging sounds from downstairs and immedietly finds that you're experiencing one of the common symptoms of pregnancy. He opens the bathroom, finding you near the toilet seat, he quickly walks to you to hold your hair from your face while rubbing your back to help you relax. You look up to him and smile, and even with the current situation, he finds that you're glowing beautifully in his eyes.

December 23, 20**

You're finally confirmed to be pregnant, Your belly growing slightly more and more each week, Kinich thinks he can't possibly find you more beautiful than you are right now.

Kinich though can feel tired at times, specially with your mood swings affecting how he feels each day, whenever you're happy, he feels happy, but if you find yourself upset at a random movie scene, or whatever could've possibly hurt you emotionally, he gets just as upset with you.

Speaking of emotions, you seem to be excited this month, Kinich thinks.

You've been pent up since New Years, and you seem more clingy to Kinich than ever, lightly stroking his arm before holding his hand, curling into his arms just to softly bite his jawline. He slightly shivers at your teeth,

You breathe out his name, "I've missed you.." you whisper into the crook of his neck, "Even before New Years, you've got way more commissions than ever, and I've been feeling deprived, you know..?" you mumble, your voice vibrating against his neck, suddenly, he feels like he knows exactly what you want, and he will gladly oblige in what you need.

Kinich softly pushes you from his neck, grabbing your nape to kiss you feverly, his lips merging into yours perfectly, he grabs your waist to pull you closer as he pulls away "I missed you too", he breathes out, his deep voice filling your ears, pecking your lips to make you feel a portion of how weighed his words were, you tighten your arms around him to kiss him again. He kisses back eagerly as he gently goes on top of you, his raven colored bangs brushing your face as you continue to make out. You both part to take back oxygen, your hands dropping to the side of your head as your chest heaves. Kinich gazes his darkened eyes into yours as he goes near your jawline to pepper kisses down your neck to which you turn to the side to give him more access while you hold onto the nape of his neck.

He pulls away softly to eagerly remove his tight shirt, revealing his soft yet defined abs, you sit up to mischieviously smirk, knowing you successfully got him to do exactly what you wanted from the start. His expression dead serious, yet he softly smiles at you before you gesture for him to help you remove your shirt.

Kinich starts to trail his kisses from your bare chest down to your visible bump, making sure his kisses were light as feather as to not pressure you. He goes back up to kiss your collarbone, your whines hitting his ears knowing you wanted him to continue to dive deeper down there. "Patience", he states firmly to keep you in check, lightly pecking your lips before finally lowering his face to your thighs.

"Hahahah!!!!" You laugh outloud at a gumball episode, Kinich observes your weird obsession with this show ever since your pregnancy has been confirmed, and whenever he thinks u cannot be more strange than ever, you manage to prove him wrong every time.

"Kinich, did you catch what he said??? I'll rewind it for you!" You eagerly state outloud, Kinich nervously sweats trying to find what's so funny before you become upset like the last time, which you rewinded atleast 4 times before your mood became ruined for the rest of the day. "ah, Hahaaa....." he tries to laugh right after gumball has said one of his corny jokes, to which you huff and glare at him. Confused, he looks at you weirdly before you state "that was not the joke i wanted you to laugh at ". Thankfully, he had bought one of ur strange cravings he predicted that you'd have earlier and quickly fed it to you before your mood became sour once again. Well, now he knows how to avoid ur angry side.

Kinich arrives home early, with the house being eerily quiet, he quickly throws his bag by the floor, walking up the stairs to check on his shared bedroom to find his beloved wife sleeping soundly on her back, his eyes quickly landing on her rounded belly, mood softening, he kisses her forehead and holds her hands, kissing her soft knuckles. He drops her hands gently before caressing her belly, quickly landing a kiss affectionately on her side before going to the bathroom to change his ragged up clothes.

March 09, 20**

Nearly 5 months have passed, and the baby seems to be growing some consciousness to finally kick in ur belly. You feel the thump as you wake up, realizing that the baby has shown its first signs of communication, you look at Kinich's sleeping face, his long lashes lightly batting as he stares into your glimmering eyes, you trace your hands down his arm to grab onto his hand, guiding it to your rounded belly, "they're kicking..!" you whispered, looking down to your stomach, relieved at the thought of your baby growing healthy. Kinich feels the light thumping against his hand as his eyes widen, quickly rubbing around your belly to check if the baby's kicking anywhere else. At this, you lightly chuckle at his curiosity. Pausing his search, his gaze lands on your face bathed by the sunlight behind the curtains, silently admiring your growing beauty each day. "Have I told you, you're beautiful?" he slightly smiles at your pause before you chuckle lightly, flustered at his compliment.

The hospital light sickens you slightly, as you wait in the cold bed, you initially wanted to make a gender reveal party, but as soon as the doctor entered, your curiosity got the better of you. "Would you like to know the gender of your child?" Kinich looks at you before answering, you quickly nod at his unsaid question, before he nods to the doctor.

Girl, your child would be born as a girl, you quickly look around the dresses you could dress your child in around the baby shop. Kinich holds the cart, his green eyes glued to your figure running around, excitedly checking out whatever could make your baby look like a disney princess, "Kinich! Tell me this dress wouldn't make my princess look like Aurora herself!" Your eyes squint in eagerliness as he finally lands his gaze at the pink puffed dress. It looks huge, but I guess that's what the term "princess" is for, he thinks, he sighs outloud before agreeing with a nod, your squeals vibrating in his ears.

June 12th, 20**

June felt like torture, and you have never felt more tired as the day goes by, Kinich's work taking up more of his time, leading to lack of quality time shared between you two, Your belly felt like it'd explode at any moment due to how heavy it was.

You stayed over at Mualani's house, mainly to catch up and just hang out with her. Initially, you planned to stay over for 2 hours, due to how late you woke up, but the hours passed by faster than you thought, and the night felt darker than ever.

"Hey, you can sleep over here, I wouldn't want you to go out at night alone." Mualani informs, not wanting to risk you into danger out in the night. "I can call Kinich to pick me up, for now I'll just stay in until he comes by if that's fine", you state to her, her excited squeals filling the house as you chuckle.

Kinich knew something was wrong, the person who commission and the idea of the commission was ridiculous itself. He knew he shouldn't have taken this commission, and to make matters worst, he didn't have his phone. Waking up late and leaving in a rush was a huge mistake, with all this stress, he couldn't come up with a way to contact you at all. Apparently, this guy had been ranting on and on about losing a certain family jewelry around an abandoned area, and with Kinich's breakfast deprived brain, unfortunately agreed without asking for more information about what this jewelry even looked like. Stupid, utterly stupid, he thinks to himself, spouting curses everywhere. Looking at the clock on his wrist, he thinks, an Hour from now, and if I don't see a shining glimmering shit, I'll leave, he looks back up to search further in the dusted area.

Kinich hasn't replied, and it's 10 PM, your constant glance at your phone in hopes to get atleast one notification from him worries Mualani.

"He hasn't answered yet?" Mualani questions, thinking deeply before writing X on the center of tic tac toe board you've been playing for atleast 30 minutes from now. "I'm scared. Maybe he has arrived home and he's worried, I knew I should've left a note for him at the fridge", you sigh, writing O on the bottom right of the tic tac toe board. "You know, if that's true, maybe you should just stay here, he's probably tired and can't drive back here to fetch you, not to say he's selfish, but I think it's way safer for you to stay here than go back home." Mualani advises, placing her X on the top left of the board. "I don't know.. I'm really sorry, but I don't think I could even sleep without knowing he's alright." Your eyes droop down, writing O on the top right of the board, Mualani doesn't respond, interrupting your near-victory with her X placed in the middle of ur O's, "I could drive you there, if we see that the lights are open, we can safely assume that he's arrived, if the lights are off, we're coming back here." Mualani says, easing your worries by a slight.

Kinich indeed couldn't find that God Forsaken family jewelry, and what surprises him is how dark the night is, his eyes widen, checking the time.

Kinich fucked up, badly, he ran back to his office as quickly as he could to gather all his belongings. He'd arrive late at times, but never this late. Kinich just hopes you weren't too worried to go out and look for him yourself, specially in the dark of the night.

You were sat at the passenger seat of your car, with Mualani rambling about one of her friends backstabbing her. Her rambles were tuned out due to your worried thoughts wandering back to Kinich, has he gotten himself in trouble? Is he safe, at home? Why isn't he replying at all??

Mualani's voice suddenly toned down to total silence, you break out of your thoughts and see that your house has been lit up, and the door's slightly opened. You eagerly open the car door, thanking Mualani. "Hey! Let me walk you to your house, your belly's practically popping out, jeez.." Mualani hurriedly leaves the car to help you walk to your house. "I can take it from here, thank you so much", you smile at her, incredibly relieved to have Mualani around, "ya sure? I can help you around the house, infact I can stay over you know!" Mualani muses, "I'm pregnant, not diseased, get it right!" You sarcastically reply to her.

"All jokes aside, you suree you can take it? It won't bother me at all to help around the house", Mualani says, you can catch a worried tone in her words, "I'll be fine. Kinich seems to be here anyways, he'll help me around." You reply, suddenly your throat felt dry, something was off. "Oh yeah!.. Totally forgot he was here," Mualani says briefly, you could tell even she felt something off. "Hey, you know-, I mean, I'm not trying to intrude, but I'll just look around with you", she says. In hopes of finally easing her worries, you agree.

Kinich anxiously waits in the taxi, his hair bothering him more and more as he tries brushing them out with his hand. Something's really wrong, the guy who had commissioned him was the cause of all this stress, one of the questions Kinich wonders is why he didn't bother leaving a note. He had said it himself he wanted the jewelry found within the day, if he really had left some sort of jewelry, he'd have atleast compensation for the trouble of trying to find it. Kinich slowly processes this, as his eyes widens.

Kinich rushes hastily around the house, quickly packing his bags to leave.

"Kinich!" Kinich pauses for a second, about to respond that he's late to work, and he can't afford to hear yet another one of his boss' lectures about latecomers.

You hurriedly step down the stairs, Kinich worries at the speed with your current state. "Kinich, your phone! You nearly left it." you frown quickly putting it in his bag.

"Thank you", he replies briefly, pecking your forehead before leaving the house in hurried steps.

Oh what the fuck. The phone's been in his bag the entire time. he messes around his bag in search of his phone.

How could this get worse, one sigh of relief and suddenly you find yourself in a more fucked up situation. His phone was nowhere in his bag. This is bad, really bad..

You and Mualani walk around the house, the door was unlocked this entire time. This worries you further, the fact that Kinich's work stuff is nowhere to be seen makes you feel a lump forming in your throat. Mualani continues to firmly hold you close to her, looking around to see if anything's suspicious.

"I have a really bad feeling about this" Mualani states, helping you with absolutely nothing to ease your worries. "I don't think he's even home", you speak up. "Did you leave the door unlocked?" Mualani questions you, you reply with a shake of your head, "I always leave the door locked, that's why I initially thought Kinich was at home due to the door being unlocked, even though its unlike him to leave it fully unlocked." You speak, processing your words before you realise how bad the situation really is.

Mualani looks over you, her eyes widened in realisation that...someone had broken into your house.

Before you can even think of calling the police, Mualani drops to the ground, red liquid slowly appearing from under her. You look around in panic to see what made her drop to the ground, and lock gazes with an armed man.

Kinich finally arrives, deciding it'd be less time consuming to just walk 10 minutes to his home.

There's something happening, Kinich thinks, no, feels. Something terrible is happening, and with second that passes, Kinich feels more worried than ever, he has to hurry home.

Kinich finally catches a sight of his house, lights are off, but that bad feeling won't go away, infact, it feels like something irreversible has happened by the time he even left his office.

Kinich hurries his steps before resolting to a full sprint back to his house. He arrives at the door, looking around, he sees a familiar car parked at the front of his house. He turns back to the door, quickly trying to open it before realising it has been locked. Kinich searches in his bag further to find the key.

Kinich heaves, his key is nowhere to be found. Kinich's eyes widen in realisation

That man that commissioned him,

That man that had lost a "family jewelry",

That man that for sure took his belongings,

Kinich doesn't complete the thought, rage filling his body before he drops his bag to repeatedly hit the door in hopes to break it down.

Kinich grunts as he breathes out heavily before hitting the door with his side. This is useless, Kinich looks around to the glass window of his house, grabbing his bag to walk away from the window. He silently calculates the range of his throw, before finally launching his bag, shattered pieces of glass loudly hitting the concrete. Kinich couldn't care less before carefully entering the house, stabbed shards digging in his skin.

He looks around the house, and quickly spots Mualani's bleeding body on the floor, his breath caught in his throat. Kinich quickly carries her to the couch, tightly wrapping her stabbed side, Kinich spots a knife.

Kinich does not want to imagine what you could be experiencing right now,

he whispers an apology to Mualani, before hurriedly checking each room of the house.

He passes by the bathroom, he hears a groan of pain,

you.

"[Name]!" he turns back to quickly enter the bathroom, greeted by the most sickening sight ever.

Your bare form, crouched with dark red liquid down your legs, as well as bruises found in each of your limbs, coughing up blood into your hands. Your eyes shakened in pure terror as tears trinkle down your swollen cheeks

Kinich waits anxiously outside your hospital room, the constant beeping sounds irritating him further, as well as unable to remove that ugly view out of his head. How could this have happened? What happened? Where is that man.

"Mr. Malipo?" Kinich perks his head up. The doctor gestures to come into a separate room across yours.

"The child has died due to the injures your wife suffered, they were assaulted and these hits were critical, especially targetted around her stomach." The doctor describes, Kinich holds the urge to puke at the mental image of someone so utterly sick in the head severely harming you.

Kinich can't go home, even if he did, he wouldn't even feel like he was at home, his house was a bloody mess, police were cornering all of it, families of Mualani and yours was overwhelming him with questions. "What happened?" He doesn't know, "how did this happen?" He doesn't want to know. All he wants to do is to see you.

Kinich can't stand sitting down here with his thoughts, seeing you all bruised was mental torture to him, and your unborn child..he doesn't know what to do.

"I need to see her", Kinich states to a nearby doctor. The doctor shakes his head, "Sir, We cannot let you in, we're trying our best to help her, and you will unfortunately be in the way, you can't see her, specially at this state." the doctor states firmly before speaking among his peers. Kinich glares into the back of the doctor's head before remaining sat into his seat, worries filling his head even further than before at the doctors words.

Kinich's finally allowed to see you after hours of waiting, he does not wait for the doctor's words before practically bursting through the door, rushing to your side. your bruises seemed to be less severe, yet still painful to look at. You bat your eyes open from someone tightly clinging to your hand, just to see your husband's green eyes slightly watering at your state.

Sleep slowly worns off of you before you realise why you're here at all, your eyes widens.

You look down to see your bruised stomach has sunk way lower than before. Way less round...

You free your hand from kinich before quickly sitting up to inspect your belly further. "Why's my baby like this?" Your eyes narrows as your eyebrows arch in stress, Kinich's green eyes looks down, finally spilling his tears he's been holding this entire time. Sadly, even with no words spoken, you understood immedietly what had occured.

October 3rd, 20**

Throughout the months, you still continue to grief over your unborn child.

Justice had been instantly served, the man who had broken into your house and physically harmed you had been arrested immedietly, serving a death sentence from the charges now, and the past charges he'd been accused of. Mualani, despite being stabbed, managed to hold on due to Kinich's help in holding her from bleeding out, to which, she fortunately survived.

Yet, Kinich cannot bear this sight of you, you're like a candle that's about to dim from the cold surrounding you, and Kinich, already losing his child, cannot bear to lose you —his beloved wife— too.

Kinich was cooking dinner this time, you layed down on the couch, quiet as ever. You haven't ate normally since then, and Kinich worries that you'll starve to death with this sudden change of routine.

"[Name]", he calls out,

you take a while to reply, he notices, about to call out for you again before hearing your voice hum out. He puts the cover on the pan before walking to you,

His weight dips the couch as you continue still as ever. Kinich wipes his hands on his knees before facing you.

"Would you like to...adopt a cat?" He hesitates to question, unsure if that could unintentionally trigger you. He stares at you to check on how you'd react.

To his surprise, your attention seems to finally land on him, and your eyes slowly lights up in interest before you speak up, "Can we...- I...really take care of them?" Kinich furrows his eyebrows, "We, and yes, what had transpired back then was not your fault", It was mine, he pauses in his thoughts before continuing "that sick man has nothing to do with how we are." he gently intertwines your hands together. bringing your hand to his lips to peck it affectionately.

Your eyes shaken at this, and turn watery at the thought, sitting up to pull your husband into your embrace, "do you blame yourself for what happened..?" You inquire. Kinich pauses, he doesn't reply, but he does dig his face deeper into your neck, you feel something wet soak it before you realise that it's his tears. You smile cheekily, trying to see his face, but his grip tightens into your waist as he sobs into your shoulders, gripping your shirt tightly as ever.

November 4th, 20**

On the way home after finishing up his work, Kinich drives back home, stopping by a nearby drug store to find something to snack on.

Closing the door, Kinich holds the paper bag in his hand, walking up to his parked car. He swiftly enters the car before turning on the engine, he looks up ahead to spot a..tiny black kitten. Kinich sighs before leaving the car.

Kinich reaches his arm to catch the kitten, but to his frustration, the kitten seemed to be playing games with him, running to the other side of the car whenever he got too close to his fur. Kinich grunts before reaching for his car keys, purposely making it beep to stunt the kitten before snatching the feline quickly before it could think.

Kinich hurriedly makes it run to the ground, before hesitating. You and him planned to have a kitten together, why not just take this one home? the kitten looked like it needed a home anyways.

Kinich hold the squirming kitten firmly before gently placing it on the passenger seat, the desperate screams of the kitten was not avoided, Kinich could tell this kitten probably did not have a good experience with humans, specially with a part of his head being bloody, this kitten was lucky to even survive a day out in the wild.

Waking up, you feel a weird furry feeling rubbing your neck before you blink and meet gaze with a strange black kitten and its big green eyes. You pause, before squealing in happiness. Kinich smiles before going to sleep, finally, this could be a new start for you.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Kidnapped II

Fridolina Rolfö x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're sick

The league win is tonight.

Or, rather, the presentation of the trophy is tonight and Frido's excited. It should be a fairly easy win for the team so that combined with the trophy lift is going to make this day amazing.

It falls just short of perfect because you've fallen ill.

Frido's parents arrived nearly two days ago and, while you were perfectly fine on the plane, you're now a bit wheezy with a sore throat and a cough that just won't seem to go away.

"Älskling," She coos, bouncing you around as she gets ready to leave," You sound so bad."

You've been up most of the night coughing and Frido stayed up in solidarity, allowing her parents some sleep while she cared for you.

You cough again, as if to prove that you are feeling incredibly bad.

She measures out some medicine. Most of the team thought it was a little silly for her to be stocked up on kid's medicine when the only kid she hung out with was Cub but Frido had wanted to be prepared for if you got sick during any of your visits.

She'd be smug about it if it didn't mean that you were feeling terribly icky today.

She sways you softly as she squirts the medicine from the syringe down your throat.

"I know," She coos," Yucky, huh? I'll give this away to Mapi and Ingrid and find you some nice-tasting stuff for next time."

You whine a little and drop your head against Frido's collarbone. She keeps rocking you, rubbing your back softly as she lays kisses on top of your head.

"I'm going to call in," Frido says when her parents finally join the two of you in the kitchen," It's a fairly easy match. I won't be needed."

"Trophy is presented today," Her father replies gruffly," You can't miss that."

"Älskling is sick," Frido insists," I don't want to leave her. She needs me."

"You're not her mother," He says," You can't just pause your world because the little one is sick. Go to your match. Your mother and I will decide what to do with her. One of us will be there."

Frido puffs out her cheeks just like you do when you're annoyed. "I can stay!" She insists," She needs cuddles!"

"Cuddles that we are more than capable of giving her," Her father reminds her.

"Not sister cuddles!"

Her father laughs a little bit with an eye roll, taking you from Frido and soothing you easily when you whine against his chest.

"You know, I thought we left this petulance behind when you became an adult."

"I'm not petulant."

"Sure you're not.

Frido stamps her foot. "I'm not!"

Her father keeps laughing. "You're thirty years old and you're still stamping your foot? You're showing your baby sister a bad example."

The rumble of laughter from your father's chest has you let out your own raspy giggle that has Frido beaming at you.

"I'm staying here," Frido insists," Just to watch her a bit. It could get worse, you know."

"We raised you," Her father replies, adjusting you on his hip and bouncing slightly to help you settle," I think we know all about sickly children. She's much more well-behaved than you ever were."

"But-"

"Fridolina," He says, pulling out the full name and essentially silencing Frido with one word," If I have to drag you into that stadium by your ear then so help me I will. Your sister is capable of watching you on the tv no matter how sick she is."

Frido knows her father very well so the threat isn't empty.

She is going to the pitch even if he has to drag her there himself. It doesn't mean she has to be happy about it though.

Actually, Frido decides that she's not going to be happy at all even if the trophy is being lifted tonight. She forces herself to keep a frown on her face even when she listens to Ingrid complain about the two ginger cats that have now taken over her house.

Frido refuses to let herself be happy after being forced out of her own house while you're still wheezy and coughing.

"You can smile, you know," Mapi says," It won't break your face or anything."

"I'm proving a point," Frido replies," I am letting my parents know I'm not happy with this situation."

"Are you twelve? Because this is super childish."

Frido ignores her.

"Is this what I have to look forward to? God, I hope Cub never grows up."

"It's the principal of the matter," Frido says," My parents will understand."

It's difficult to keep the frown on her face when the team go seven nil up by the end of the match but if there's one thing Frido is, it's stubborn and she refuses to act like she's enjoying herself when you're sick in her home.

The trophy is brought out while the team celebrates and Frido gets up to join them before there's a familiar call of her name.

It's her mother's voice and Frido now knows it's her father who stayed home to look at you.

Good.

Because Frido isn't quite sure how she would react to seeing him here after her forced her to come without you.

Only...

You're being dangled over the railing to her, looking much happier and perkier than before.

"Look who decided to get over her little cold to see her sister win the league."

Frido grabs you and you clumsily fall onto her chest, giving her a big wet kiss on her neck.

She laughs. "Thank you, Älskling!"

You screech something unintelligible and Frido nods.

"I love you too!"

[linnienin]

🍰 T h e ⁕ m o o n ⁕ a n d ⁕ I C 🍰 : how are you behind closed doors?

Disclaimer: Take what resonates. I'm not a professional astrologer, i just am an avid researcher and i use my personal experience when writing my posts (Also, pls, don't copy my work, i spend lot of time on it, thanks)

We all know the Sun and Ascendant play important roles in our chart, but they are often what people see at first and what we usually display to the public.

Once we get home or we meet someone that makes us feel at home, this is when another unexpected 'part' of us unleash, that part comes from our deepest place of our personality, we don't hide our emotions anymore, we feel completely free to express ourselves in our rawest form (can also be interpreted as 'getting in tune with our inner child')

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Aries moon/IC : The forever child, kinda like a Peter Pan, and hella CHAOTIC. If you think this person appeared as balanced, laid back and diplomatic, well, you were very wrong lol. You'll soon realize he/she is the most spontaneous of all. Behind closed doors they'll sing loudly, they'll laugh loudly, they'll throw things at you (be ready to catch them or they'll break for sure 😂). Clumsy as hell, and they like it. Endless energy. Gets touchy in an aggressive mode (like when a child put their head violently against their mother's head, they don't mean to be violent, it's just the way they express love, it's bold and uncontrolled hehe) The type to workout at home and be LOUD about it (how many times did i write loud 🙈), has noisy heavy footsteps. Can burn the food lol. Can also be prone to burn themselves accidentally. Constantly finding new distractions to turn their head to. "THAT THING IS MINE, DON'T TOUCH IT". The bed is their personal trampoline. At night, they change position at least 10 times before actually find a decent one to sleep in (they'll make the bed appear as a gym, be ready for the earthquake), heavy sleeper.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Taurus moon/IC: 'AHHHHH, finally my dear bed'. I see you tauruses, first thing you do once you get home is jumping on that comfy bed and hug your pillows (yeah, you still have your coat,scarf,hat,backpack,shoes on, why bother taking them off 😂). Not picky when it comes to food, they love all dishes, just the act of eating gives them pleasure (they're here to ✨enjoy✨, that's also why you'll rarely see them cook 😂). The living ghost (that maxi blanket looks good on you, but remember to wash it from time to time since you basically slide it on the floor wherever you go lol). The hugger, literally a safe and calm space for everyone, you'll see people comes to them when stressed just to feel their healing aura. Touchy, but in a sensual and calm way, like gentle little massages/strokes on shoulders, or waist (especially when the other person is cooking, to give them extra support and maybe get a taste of that sauce they're cooking👀) Fall asleep FAST. Usually stays in bed until late morning even if they wake up earlier (spends that time fantasizing)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Gemini moon/IC: The multitasker. They can't stay still a second. Cooking while doing laundry, while listening to a podcast, while cleaning (superficially lol),while playing with their cats, while sending emails, while preparing for that exam, and oh...wait what is this smell? OH GOSH, THE OVEN! (of course of all things you forgot the food, sometimes you forget you are even human, you need those calories bby😂). Has the messier room, but also the most interesting one. Have a difficult time with silence, it's uncomfy to them, that's why they are always listening to something (tv shows, podcasts, youtube videos, music) even if they don't really care about what's being said (that's also why they know everything about anything, they absorb these facts like a sponge). Changes hobbies at the speed of light. You see them throwing ceramics one week, the next they're playing the cello (they secretly can't stick to a single hobby because it becomes too boring). Have difficulty sleeping, their brain can't seem to shut down, so usually they can take hours before falling asleep (they find sound comforting and helpful so lots of them listen to ASMR before going to bed or even listen to the sound of breathing of the person next to them to calm themselves)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Cancer moon/IC: Home sweet home. There's nothing that feels better for these natives than a good relaxing day at home (or maybe an entire life between those walls 👀). They literally can feel the mood changing the moment they pass the line that separate the outside world from their inner bubble of the home. They love to take care of their environment, they don't feel the chores to be so exhausting because it feels like helping an old friend out, and they take pride in their home too (they won't let you in easily, you need to really conquer them and show them you respect and cherish other's surroundings). They make very good cooks, but not the type to be super detailed with the ingredients, they are more intuitive, a bit like old grandma style (probably learnt to cook from a female family figure too). Make traditionals meals, can make meals from recipes thet have been passed on by previous generations in the family (and they take pride in this too). Has probably a personalized cookbook they wrote by hand with cute doodles on it. Has a specialty for making excellent sweets (and love to eat them too hehe). Has a welcoming aura. Has the coziest room. Loves to make forts with bedsheets. TV series binger. Pretends life only exist between those 4 walls. Bawl their eyes out for no apparent reason at a random time (well, they accumulated the stress from outside so now that they feel safe they let go). Likes to be held when sleeping, and if there's no one beside them, they like to hold a plushie or to curl up in side fetus position 😂

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Leo moon/IC: The beef. Oh yeah, as soon as the door closes, they can't wait to spill tea on all the people that bothered them during the day (i see u 👀). The funny and spot on imitator. Gets very touchy and loving, until you don't give them attentions anymore 😾, then they'll put on a show, and if you're still apathetic, they might break something lol (don't get them to this stage pls ). Has lots of lights decor in their room, also lots of... mirrors 👀. 48393983902 hair products, their hair routine is absolutely a ritual, if you interrupt them they'll give you the death stare (but deep down they like being caught while taking care of their beautiful mane, cus they feel sexy with wet hair, or even when blowing them, feeling like a superstar). Don't you dare telling them the food they cooked wasn't good, they take pride in it and they try their best to provide for others. Also they care for their family and friends a lot, so never talk bad things about them or you'll hear the roar of the lion. Are the best entertainers, sometimes the show gets a bit too real and you don't know where the fine line lies anymore (that's how good they are, but are you good enough to handle them?). At night, they wanna be hugged from behind to feel the heat on their back (it helps them relax when trying to fall asleep)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Virgo moon/IC: Picky af. Especially with food. They don't let you enter their room unless they like you. Everything in their home is accurately chosen and has a function, no useless stuff (even if it seems 'useless' they might use it to relieve stress or whatever). Tidy room. Don't decorate much, they're into the clean look aesthetic, usually they don't have lots of things and they're put in strategical places so that it's easier for them to clean (and they clean the home quite often). The one that knows how to do anything PERFECTLY. They become masters at what they do. Cooking? They know all the secrets. Doing laundry? They have a baggage of knowledge no one else has. Oh, wanna have segss? I just got my PhD in sexology 😂. Is into way too many hobbies, but unlike geminis they actually go deep into it until they have reached a level of satisfaction (honestly...they never reach it because it's never enough, so that's why they say they putted on hold that hobby and not that they got over it, while geminis are like well..who cares, it wasn't for me, next). Reflecting on that conversation they just had with a person 1 hour ago and re-write it to perfection in case they get to experience the same thing another time. Control freaks, i knoooow, but it's true cm'on, why would you get a panic attack when you're home? Your brain never leaves the outside world right? You overthink way too much, pls, it's okay to let go sometimes ok? Light sleeper, has difficulty falling asleep because of they're constantly ruminating.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Libra moon/IC: Lives in a castle... i'm kidding, they only wish they did lol (i mean maybe there's really someone out there that is a Libra and lives in a castle and they're reading this post laughing at me, sorry for the generalization). Loves when they have people do the things for them, it makes them feel appreciated and evalued (but also because they don't have to choose or they'll be the forever indecisive). They are the mediators in every family discussion because of their ability to remain calm while others easily fall into rage. Have a room with posters of their idols or fav celebs, is into photo collages of memorable moments. Everything in their room is somehow cohesive because of the ✨aesthetic✨. Sweets lover🧁. Randomly tries all the clothes in their closet just to see if they can make new outfit combos (and spend an entire day on it). Sips wine (or blackberry juice if they're not into alcohol, just because of the old money aesthetic) while watching rom-coms. Loves to try new foods, but don't exactly love to cook it, i mean, they try but... at some point they just lose focus, and when they see the immense chaos of mess they just did, they lose faith lol. Good listeners, probably not the best at giving advices tho (they usually don't even know what they'd have done in that situation😂).

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Scorpio moon/IC: Collectors. You enter their room and thay have all type of weird stuff like miniatures and gadgets looking at you like... ok wow, it's a creepy good kinda feeling (i found they're into animal's skulls too). It's not rare to hear them talking to themselves, they're not crazy, it's their way to release stress lmao. Headphones on 24/7. Not available for your bullshit, they got stuff to do. "Don't disturb or i'll kill you" on the door. Plan a whole murder but archive it because in this world it's not worth making it. But they have a heart i swear, just for those they love, that's it. Likes playing with kitchen tools, to test all their abilities. Just in case. They plan all the best hiding spots. Just in case. Learning that new taekwondo move. Just in case. Yeah, they're a liitle paranoid 😂. Can leave a bit of dust specifically so they see if someone touch their things. Likes boiling hot food and beverages. I swear, how can you even drink that tea and not burn your tongue, i'm impressed. Is the last one to fall asleep in the whole building, or family members, usually stay up until very late. Sleep few hours, i honestly don't know how they can even stand, they're for sure resilient. Don't like hugs, but gives them when they feel like it. They're like cats, 100%, you got a cat? Good, that is not a cat, it's a scorpio moon. (I love them tho hehe)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Sagittarius moon/IC: Clumsy af, but has great humour. Tell the best stories ( can add quite a lot of beef in them, but they don't make it sounds like they're saying bad things hehe ). Has the jungle room, i swear, they have all type of things dangling from walls and the ceiling, sometimes to the point of almost looking like a laser room lmfao (prepare yourself to train like Catwoman). The one that pushes others out of their comfort zone (and kinda use this excuse to escape outside with them too 'cause can't stay inside a building for too long 😂). Probably lives somwhere in the countryside or dreams of living around nature, like in the mountains, in a forest, near a river etc... Constantly jump between rooms and hit themselves with some furniture, has constant bruises on them legs (their energy is too big to be contained between walls sigh). The big portions eater, they can eat all the leftovers from others and still not feeling heavy, i admire their digestive system lmfao (i could never). The funny face eater too, they're the living anime's characters. Binge watch survival shows. Wanna be free, so don't force them into stuff they're not interested in (they'd join by themselves if they want to). When don't know what to do, scroll endlessly their phone through meme pages. Send memes to EVERYONE , even when it's like... why did they send me that? Well, ok let's laugh (ya know, they don't have reasons, they are pretty simple people after all). The first one to try that weird stuff because you only live once so why not make it an adventure? Leaders, but need a counselor. Loud sleeper, can snore. Usually spread their limbs to the whole bed, and if you need to join them, well, good luck (you'll be sleeping on the couch sometimes😂)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Capricorn moon/IC: your pacific homie. They do the same things every time they come home (like a programmed robot lol). Routine lovers. They need a predictable environment because their energy gets sucked by the chaos of the outside world. They aren't into decorating much, but they do have a passion for artistic hobbies, some of them can paint or play an instrument/sing, they have their tools for that hobby and that's it, the rest is quite minimal and practical. Can wear the same outfit on repeat too, it's like they don't care, or they have better things to care about (Mark Zuckerberg kinda vibe with the same tee over and over again). Loves traditional meals, meals they always ate since they were a child, not so open to try new food. Have a...peculiar relationship with the family (particularly their mother). I have noticed they usually don't talk much when having lunch/dinner at the table, they don't express much, and don't make eye contact to avoid people making questions. Quite reserved, need a lot of alone time to recharge. However, there's a need for them to have someone by their side to share those things too, they're absolutely afraid to end up alone, it's their worst fear, so even if they don't open up much, they want someone that understands them with just a look (however, communication is key guys, sometimes you succumb to the other person, especially if they have a strong personality, to just avoid conflict, and this is to your own detriment, you deserve better!). People say that this placement don't like physical touch, however, i'll say they veery rarely initiate the contact, but deep down the like it when others take initiative and show affection to them, it makes their heart warm even if they might not show it (but i can still see that subtle change in the expression 👀). The stable sleeper, they sleep in a position and that's it.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Aquarius moon/IC: Step into home=step into my fantastic spaceship and leave earth for a while bye. The crazy calm gal. Constantly crunching their bones (why tho). Tries to walk on walls just to see if they can bend gravity. Wanna try to glue their shoes with the Pattex and attach themselves to the ceiling like the guy in the advertising(Can be content even with swinging from the chandelier). Throw random parties and invites everyone (even strangers lol). Likes when people stay over to sleep, just to see them all in their worst condition (usually drunk)😂. Have the tech room, and when they enter it, they turn off their lights, turn on their displays and pick up their hood, and voilà, they're in a Mr.Robot mood (can be good hackers for real tho). Don't know how to show emotions so they instead react with a weird funny expression that could mean everything and nothing at the same time. Yeah, they can be confusing as hell (is this part of their plan? I dunno). Record a video of themselves everyday talking about their experience on this earth, just in case someday someone (maybe an alien) finds these recording and place them in the Interspatial Galactic Museum. Thanks for your contribuition. Can sleep with eyes open. I'm kidding hehe, they actually can sleep well, because they know they did their job that day, so rest in peace (and you'll never know when the world will end, might be today, so gotta enjoy the sleeping hours). (but honestly, there's some truth behind the sleeping with eyes open, because of all the screen time on their devices, the melatonin production is at 0 basically lmao, turn on the night filter when looking at your devices!)

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⁕ Pisces moon/IC: Walks in, continue walking, get to their room, get on the bed. Wakes up. Moment of realization: ohh, i didn't know i just got home, i was in my head thinking, but good thing that now i can relax. Proceed to search for food ready to be eaten (without too much cooking involved). Free to daydream with 0 consequences (hmm...maybe you should organize your time better cause that exam won't pass by itself). A literal softie, their room is full of plushies and pillows where they can drown in. Always lose track of time. Has a messy but cozy room (very bad at tidying their things). Leave 3789132789 clothes piled on the bed lol. Lost in their thoughts. Intuitive eating (can binge eat tho if not careful). Can burn the food because they just forget they even put it on the first place. The master procrastinator. Has a calm vibe , and won't disturb anyone (you probably won't even notice them). Have artistic hobbies, but can't focus on them for too long because they get easily distracted. Can lose the entire day to watching videos or social media, and even if they're aware, they still continue doing it. Are into spiritual stuff, probably got 17932701 cristals and a personalized altar for them too, with others meaningful pieces and some candles. They're always in the bathroom, even when they shouldn't be there, it's just their favourite place. Can take veeery long showers, if you live with them, be ready to wait A LOT before they actually get out (or just sneak in😂privacy who?). Loooove to sleep. That calming time at night when everything shuts down is the best feeling in the entire world to them. They can't wait to go to bed honestly, they even get excited. Afternoon naps are also a thing for them. Like to sleep on their stomach.

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A n d ⁕ y o u ⁕ h a v e ⁕ r e a c h e d ⁕ t h e ⁕ e n d !

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

I hope you enjoyed this post,

and i wish you all a great day! 🍰

⁕ L i n n i e ⁕

[frost-queen]

Tempting fate // part 6 (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @bubblybrianna97 , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , 

@m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampthing07 , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat ,��@rosecentury ,  @imagines-by-her ,  @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya , @dutifullyannoyingfox , @wolf-phoenix-lover, @mellowdreamlandpost-blog ,

@markive-m, @esposamultifandom, @mswwvaleska, @itsalyssadawnuniverse, @magical-spit, @winter-solstice24 , @bloommart, @mushy-mushroom04 , @iamaslytherin0 , @writingfortheunloved , @superhighschoollevelfashion-blog , @kamiliora , @itsfromaboyband-blog , @redhoodsoutlaw , @anonymouscherries , @gayandfairycore , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @niktwazny303 , @markive-m , @lovesanimals0000 , @randomgurl2326 , @dutifullyannoyingfox , @h-l-vlovesvintage , @bee-unknown , @dd122004dd ,

@blueeclipsepaperstudent, @stcrrjoon, @akilatwt , @angelitadiaz , @bloommart, @luvcexe, @klallx, @miniemonie2001 , @mrs-jjmaybank , @fallout-girl219 , @i-heart-raven-xmen, @aoi-aster , @marvelho3, @live-awkward , @solsticesage , @hemmingsleclerc

Summary: Colin remains desperate for your attention. Yet you are not so eager to give it to him. Being at the brink of despare, he might need a little help to have you just where he wants you. [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10]

You adjusted the shawl laying over your elbows, your sisters walking a bit further with their husbands. Phillipa was holding a parasol for the sun on this glorious stroll. – “Y/n do keep up.” – Portia called out seeing that you had lingered behind. – “Yes mama.” – you answered, quickening up your pace to hasten yourself over to them. You came joining Prudence’s side. Her arm locked in with her husband Robert Huxley. – “What a splendid weather is it not.” – Robert pointed out cheerfully.

Receiving not much later a slap against his shoulder from Prudence. He looked confused at his own wife. – “No one wants to have this dull conversation about the weather.” – Prudence let out with a bored expression. It made you chuckle softly. Prudence took in a deep breath, preparing herself to ask you something rather delicate. – “Is there something between you and Penelope?” – she asked, her eyes gliding across to where Penelope walked with mother.

Phillipa and her husband right behind them. – “Of course not.” – you said with a delicate smile. – “Liar.” – Prudence countered having leaned closer to you. – “I must agree with my wife on this matter Y/n. There definitely feels like something in going on between the two of you.” – Robert pitched in the conversation.

Prudence turned her head to him with a smile. – “Good to see you agree with me.” – she outed. Robert chuckled. – “I always agree with you.” – he said to let her have no doubts. Prudence’s eyes twinkled with delight. Robert snuck in a kiss against her cheek. You hoped that would let them forget about Penelope and you, but it didn’t.

Prudence let go of her husband’s arm and entangled hers around yours. – “What is it? What gossipy thing has happened between the two of you?” – Prudence whispered, leading you a bit away from her husband. Robert kept a respecting distance, still wanting to be close to his wife, but not intrude.

“Nothing.” – you answered making Prudence groaned annoyed. Her head fell back as the deep groan emerged from her mouth. – “Is this about the Bridgerton’s?” – Prudence asked as you came to a stop. Staring in shock at her. Prudence’s reaction to you was to smile wickedly. – “I am no fool Y/n.” – she whispered out letting go of your arm and join her husband’s once more.

Clenching your hands, you hurried back to them. – “This has nothing to do with Colin!” – you called out. Prudence turned around to you. She opened one hand explaining. – “Penelope and Colin have been friends since forever.” – she then glanced down at her other hand that she opened up to the side. – “I was told you were at the Bridgerton household, hinting you are having more interactions with Colin now that you’ve grown up.” – she clasped her hands together with a cheeky smile.

“One and one go together.” – she finished. – “What?” – you called out confused with wide eyes. – “Oh right, you were not aware. That night you were off God knows where, I came to the Bridgerton household to come and fetch you. You weren’t there of course but it was suggested.” – Prudence explained. Prudence took her husband’s arm again to continue the stroll in the park. – “By whom?” – you wanted to know, rushing after her.

“Our very own Penelope.” – Prudence informed you, making you stop and stare. – “Keep up Y/n.” – Prudence called out having walked further. You slowly came in motion, going in a slow pace after them. Head trying to grasp the information you had just obtained.

“Y/n!” – you heard loudly, making you gasp. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Colin Bridgerton make his way over. Not wanting to talk to him, you started walking off. – “Y/n wait!” – Colin called out quickening up his pace to come nearer. – “I want to talk.” – he let out going in pursuit of you. Lifting the hem of your dress a bit up, you started running. Running away from Colin. Having no desire to hear his excuses. – “Y/n!” – Colin called not letting you off the hook.

Robert turned around having heard your name. He nudged Prudence against her chest, turning around with her to see it for herself. Prudence gasped loud, grabbing her husband tight by the wrist. Digging her nails into him from excitement and entertainment. – “Y/n! Let us talk.” – Colin told you as you ran through the leaves of a willow tree. Running up to the thick bark to hide behind it.

Colin was about to enter the shadowy part underneath the willow as well till he got stopped. – “Colin?” – turning his head Penelope Featherington approached. – “Pen.” – Colin breathed out, letting his hand drop from under the leaves he had moved to create an entrance. He bowed to her as Penelope curtsied. – “Are you alone out here?” – she asked, getting on her toes to look past him.

“My family is by the lake.” – he pointed out. Penelope saw that Colin’s attention got drawn to the willow tree. – “Colin, you must simply tell me more about your travels to Paris. Tell me all about the culture, the food and wardrobes.” – Penelope suggested with a sweet smile. She gently nudged him when he was hesitant.

Penelope lured him away from the willow, strolling further away as she listened to his stories. You removed yourself from behind the bark, somewhat relieved your sister came in. If she hadn’t stepped in, you wouldn’t be able to get rid of him that easily. Going under the leaves, you got out in the open once more.

Gaze locking on your sister Prudence and her husband a bit further away. Prudence shaking her head, arms crossed. Her husband giving you a sheepish smile. Exhaling soft, you went over to your mother. Knowing Colin wouldn’t dare to come near with her by your side, if he ever dared to attempt it once more.

Having the uneasy feeling that Colin would try something no matter what, you told Portia you were not feeling well. She allowed you to take the carriage home. With a quickened pace, you made your way up to the path where the carriage awaited. The footman opened the door for you. You set your foot on the little step, already hoisting yourself up to get in the carriage. The footman was about to close the door as you were hovering to sit down.

The door suddenly getting held open by force. Colin Bridgerton came in the door opening, panting loud. – “Y/n let us talk.” – he breathed out. – “Colin!” – you screamed out startled. You didn’t want him anywhere near the carriage so you moved forwards, grabbing the door by the open window frame. You started pulling at it, the door bumping against Colin’s back as you tried to shut it.

Colin kept holding the door, making it for you unable to lock him out. – “I need to talk to you!” – he called out in desperation. – “I do not wish to speak with you.” – you made clear, pulling harder at the frame and shoving him back so you could close the door. – “Y/n! Hear me out!” – Colin kept the door open with all his might. You screamed loud in agony as he wasn’t giving up.

Colin saw no other solution so he set his foot on the little step, hoisting himself up. You cried it out in a panic as he was about to get in the carriage with you. – “Get out!” – you ordered him, pushing hard against his chest. Colin was sturdy and easily kept his position. – “Let me talk to you!” – Colin said annoyed that you kept pushing him off. Push after push, you shoved him against his chest, not wanting him to get in the carriage.

The carriage wobbled a bit from the movement as you didn’t want to think about the prying eyes it drew in. Colin Bridgerton standing half in a carriage, legs still out as something was clearly preventing him from getting on. – “Get out!” – you repeated loud at the brink of screaming your lungs out in frustration. You gave Colin a few more hard pushes as his foot slipped on the little step. It made him loose his balance as you could easily push him out of the carriage.

He fell down on his back on the gravely road. You stuck your upper body out to grab the door, wanting to slam it shut. – “Y/n please.” – Colin begged moving himself more upright. For a moment you stared at him, before your expression contracted in anger, slamming the door firmly shut.

The carriage got in motion as Colin came up to his feet. – “Y/n wait!” – he called out running after the carriage. Some ladies snorted loud seeing how Colin was so pathetic. He couldn’t possibly catch up with the carriage, slowing down as he was out of breath. Hands on his knees, he was panting loud. Defeated he returned to his family. Anthony waited eagerly for him, pushing Benedict a bit aside to come and meet him. – “And?” – Anhtony asked curious.

Colin shook his head, lowering it. Anthony exhaled deep, moving his hands to his hips. – “Do not worry brother, we’ll find a way.” – Anthony encouraged, swinging an arm over his shoulder. – “How?” – Colin called out frustrated. – “I messed up! She’s never going to talk to me ever again!” – Colin shrugged Anthony’s arm off. – “Don’t be absurd.” – Anthony answered.

“Every opportunity she takes a run for it!” – Colin called out angrily, taking a rock as he threw it in the lake. – “Colin!” – Violet scolded him for his bad behaviour. It made Colin sigh loud, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. Letting himself fall down in the grass, he gave up. Physically drained.

There was nothing he could do against the feeling. He couldn’t stop himself from feeling guilty for ever threating you so dishonest. Thinking back about it, he knew he sure was the fool.  He did truly liked you. At that time, he didn’t think it was strong enough for marriage. Not that soon. His brother made him think deeper about what he truly felt. Yet the damage was already done.

Seeing you with that other lord the other day, truly send him over the edge. Feeling you slip through his fingers as he was losing something, he didn’t want to lose. The feeling eating at him. That night Colin couldn’t sleep. Laying awake with taunting dreams of seeing you dance with that other lord.

Having to watch from the side-line as you gaze lovingly up to him. Imagining him standing in a corner, forgotten as you got married to the lord. Imagining you waking up next to him, his arms all around you as he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to stop the feeling and stop making excuses. Best of wishes to that Bridgerton.

Dancers took each other’s hands, brushing past each other to change positions. The next ball off the season had started off. The Bridgerton’s standing collectively together. A tray of drinks moved past as Colin snatched a glass from it. Drinking almost the entire content in one breath. He needed to drink himself some confidence. Getting a moment alone with you to talk, wasn’t going to be easy.

Colin found himself more and more being drawn to the stairs where newly guests would appear. Hoping each time the door opened, it would reveal you. The patience was nerve-wrecking. Almost making him break out in a sweat. The doors opened as he anticipated the moment to see you, yet it were others. After a while it didn’t seem like you would come. A girl having found her way to Colin, chatting to him about herself.

He rather wished to speak with you, but the distraction was welcoming at such dire times. The doors opened once more. Portia Featherington stepping out. Her daughters Phillipa and Prudence with their husbands right behind her. Colin caught them in the corner of his eyes, turning his head. Penelope stood in the centre, yet his gaze was drawn to you. Standing a bit behind your sister. Eyes to the floor as he noticed you were fidgeting nervously with your fingered gloves.

Colin’s gaze remained locked on you as you descended from the stairs. Joining the others at the ball. Colin excused himself from the girl, finding a way through the crowd to get to you. Your family moved to the side to settle as your eyes widened. Staring in front of you at the nearing of Colin Bridgerton. You immediately turned around, wanting to escape him. – “Y/n.” – Colin shout-whispered, keeping his voice decently down.

Pushing lord and ladies aside to force a way through to you. – “Please Y/n.” – he begged wanting nothing more than to have you speak to him. Graveling to get your attention. He quickened up his pace nearly touching the ribbon around your waist as it slipped through his fingers. A lord walked across as he came blocking his path to you. It made him groan frustratedly that he was losing sight of you. 

You were panting, trying to stay out of Colin’s clutches. You were distracted by looking over your shoulder for a sign of him, that when you turned your gaze to the front, you gasped loud. Anthony Bridgerton standing in front of you as he came blocking your path. – “A word Miss Y/n.” – he said.

Breathing shakily, you turned a quarter to run off when you were greeted by Benedict Bridgerton. – “I have no clue.” – he stated hands open so you couldn’t pass. Backing up, you knew they were trapping you. Anthony joining his brother’s side. – “You tricked me!” – you called out. – “Apologies.” – Anthony spoke as you suddenly felt a grip on your upper arms, making you gasp loud. You got spun around, looking up to Colin’s eyes. He was panting a bit, staring yearningly at your eyes. – “Please listen.”

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[beefrobeefcal]

Like a Cigar feat. Max Phillips x menstruating!f!reader

Summary: You have cramps and Max has a holistic way that might help.

Pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,879

Content Warnings: dubcon (bc vampires and their hypnosis), reader is a menstruating person, period sex, poor managerial skills, if he were her boss there would be hr concerns, p in the v sex, neck biting, blood

Author's Notes: This came about from a discussion about periods on discord and this is dedicated to @noxturnalpascal and @strang3lov3's cat, Gizmo.

Thank you to @strang3lov3 and @noxturnalpascal for cultivating this with me, and to @bitchesuntitled and @jennaispunk for their eyes and love.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

“Dammit.”, you swore under your breath as you dug around in the cabinet under the bathroom sink.

Only one regular tampon and one panty liner were not enough to get you through the night. The iron-rich flood that was about to destroy your underwear had arrived and you were not prepared.

Moving out of your ex’s apartment and having to start again in a city you didn’t know was hard enough, but realizing at 2 am that you had no period products when all the signs and your health app had warned you this was coming nearly had you on the verge of tears.To top it off, you had nothing to dull the twisting aches of pain but an old sock and maybe some rice to MacGyver a heating pad. 

You hastily shoved in your final tampon, slapped the panty liner in your underwear, put on some old sweatpants, grabbed your keys and headed out to your car.

+++++

The speakers in the 24-hr Walgreens were blown out, causing John Dever’s Suzanne’s Song to sound like two sick frogs singing along to a car occasionally backfiring. 

The cramps had really hit you hard en route, and you shuffled slowly to the Feminine Hygiene aisle. Turning the corner down that aisle, you saw a man. An extraordinarily well-dressed man at 2:16 am in a Walgreens. 

You’d assumed that you would have seen a staff member or maybe another uterus-haver being in the aisle, but not this. The man turned from examining a pack of ULTRA tampons in his large hand and smiled wide, toothy grin and nodded at you. If you weren’t so exhausted and hurting, you would have been creeped out, or at least slightly unnerved, but in your iron-deficient and cramp-fueled haze, you nodded sluggishly and turned to face the wall of catch-it-all and plug-it-up products. 

Your brain ignored the man and focused all your energy on picking the products you needed, bending slightly forward to try and lessen the pain in your abdomen. It wasn’t until you heard the deep inhale beside you that you clued into how close the man was standing to you now. 

“Can I help y-”

“You’re bleeding.”

His tone was low and blunt, and carried the sound of the grin on his clean shaven face. 

“Excuse me?” You turned to him with a wary scowl, feeling the inherent feminine rage start to boil up at his audacity. 

“I said you’re in pain.”, he responded in the same blunt, grin-fueled voice.

You narrowed your eyes at him. It was then you realized just how well dressed he was; a light gray three-piece suit with a butter-yellow dress shirt underneath the vest. The gold cufflinks and rings styled him expertly and his hair was perfectly coiffed in a short, neat cut. He was extremely overdressed for the occasion of meeting you amongst the pads and tampons at this time of night.

“Who the fuck are y-”

“A period expert.”, he said while flashing a perfect smile at you.

You felt like you were about to be sold a used car with sawdust in the gas tank.

“A period expert?”

“Well, more of an expert in blood, but periods fall under the umbrella. And guessing by your being here at this hour, and you-”, he raised his brow and looked you over, his eyes darkened as he subtly flicked his tongue and wetted his bottom lip. “You look to be in the throes of Mother Nature’s cruelty.”

You took the lord’s name in vain under your breath and turned back to the neon coloured boxes of overpriced and taxed tampons, and clenched your jaw. You were not in the mood.

“I can help.”

“I’m sure you think that.”, you grunted through your clenched teeth. 

You heard him hum a slight laugh; whether it was authentic or not, you couldn’t tell. What you could tell was that he was getting closer. As you squatted down, trying to alleviate your cramps and scope out the bottom shelf, his shoes stepped into your peripherals. 

You stood up with an irritated sigh, and as you were about to turn to face him, to tell him to back the fuck off, you stopped. Or you were stopped. Stopped by some unseen force, making it harder to access your freewill. 

“I can help.”

The smooth, deliberate tone was behind you and close enough that each syllable came with a breath that moved the hair at the base of your head, causing your body to erupt in a wave of goosebumps. Any and all irritation faded, and your senses dulled slightly. A warm, euphoric haze curled itself around you and all you heard was his words I can help bounce softly around your skull. From the corner of your eye, you vaguely noticed his hand moving in a slow, twirling motion. 

His hands softly held your arms, just below your shoulders, softly squeezing and rubbing them soothingly, and he leaned in, taking in a deep breath. 

“God dammit, you smell good. You smell like you’re in desperate need of some help and I am just the guy for you, sweetheart.”

“What are you - a… a gynecologist?” Your words were slightly drawn out, and to you, they sounded like they were spoken into an echo chamber.

“No. Not at all. Not a medical professional, but you could say I take a holistic interest in all things blood. And you’re full of it.” His voice sounded like it was eons away, echoing through space and time towards you, but based on his touch and the breath on your neck, you knew he was close. But the fog you were in made it easy enough for you not to care. 

“My name is Max. Max Phillips, and I am going to help you, sweetheart.”

You sluggishly opened your mouth to say your name but he tsk’d you. “No… I don’t care about your name. I care about the current state you’re in.”

Max’s hand moved around your front to your lower abdomen and he pushed down with his palm. You let out a long, slow breath mixed with a groan, and he huffed a low chuckle into your ear. 

“I know, sweetheart.” The mock pout on his face came though in his voice. “ It hurts, but I’m gonna fix this for you.”

His voice, his words, and his weird twirly hand movements had you sink further into the fog and it felt like a fever dream. Max seemed to move faster than your eyes could process it, flitting to the front and returning with a shopping cart, then loaded it up with what seemed like one of every kind, size, colour, and brand of period products - a smile on his face the whole time. You watched as Max walked behind the pharmacy counter with no objection from the staff, almost like they couldn’t see him, and he loaded up a white, prescription paper bag with several large scoops of acetaminophen and ibuprofen tablets. He then led you to the till where he paid for a ridiculously huge variety of pads and tampons, and some cheap chocolate from the impulse area by the registers.You carried a paper bag full of the painkillers as Max ushered you out into the parking lot, towards the backseat of his vehicle. But the whole thing felt like you were watching it unfold from above your own body and not actually participating. 

Once you were seated in the back Max got in on the other side and flashed you another megawatt smile. 

“Okay.”, he said with a gusto and slapped his hands together. “Let’s get started.”  

He pulled the sack of pills out of your hand and tossed them into the front seat, along with the bags of items. In one swift motion, he grabbed your calf, turned and pushed you down, and your neck and head were at an awkward angle, butted up against the door handle and window

The haze that had enveloped you was lifting and the reality of the situation you were in was drawing on you. 

“What the fu-”

“You’re fine.” Max’s tone was as sharp as the pad of his finger pressed into the crotch of your sweatpants. 

“You’re fine, sweetheart. I’m just helping.” His dismissive and snide tone began to push you back into that fog, but this time, you tried to fight it. 

You tried to sit up, but his deep brown eyes seemed to darken into the shadows the streetlights threw over him. You stilled, your limbs feeling heavier as you stared into his eyes, dulling your senses so you could only focus on him. A car honked loudly at the intersection in front of the Walgreens’ parking lot, but to you, the sound of it was muted and dulled, and far away. You laid back again, neck and head squished up against the door, as he maintained eye contact.

“That’s a good girl. No need to fight it. I’m gonna make it all better.”

And you trusted him to do it. For some unknown, god-forsaken reason you trusted him. 

In one quick movement, your sweatpants and underwear were down to your ankles. He hummed and his tongue jutted out the corner of his mouth as he struggled to get the second pantleg over your Birkenstocks. 

“There we go.” Max tossed your clothing into the front seat and looked down at your core. 

He reached forward and gave the now-rust coloured tampon cord a tug, seemingly trying to gauge how easily it could be removed.

When you made a small noise expressing your concern, his eyes darted up to yours. “Knock it off. I’m helping you, remember?”

His hand moved up your thigh, roughly digging his fingers into your skin to keep you still, and his other moved back down between your legs then tugged the tampon out of you. He smiled as he held it up, noting how weighed down it was already with your blood and he placed it on the centre console. His finger then came in contact with your copper-toned nub. Rubbing small circles, he looked up at you and leaned in slightly, his non-occupied hand moving in a slow circular motion in the air.

“Fuck…”, you managed to breathe out. Your own voice once again sounded foreign and far away.

He smiled at you with a tooth-filled, smug smile, and you watched as fangs appeared, lengthening his canines, and your immediate slight panic was tampered down by a well duh! feeling. Between the fog and his cool finger pad drawing tight, soft circles on your clit, you let the ebb and flow of the situation take over.

“Good. You got it. Just helping you out, sweetheart.”

Max pushed his middle finger into your wet, hot heat, eliciting a gasping soft moan. 

He smiled and wiggled the tip of his finger inside you. “You’re too easy, Bloody Mary.”

Before you could answer, he pulled his finger out, pushed you further up against the door and crowded himself up against you; the angle your neck was at should have hurt, but whatever spell he had you under had you not caring about your current circumstances, and it also seemed to be dulling your pain. He pressed his body down on yours, his nose buried into your neck, and inhaled again. He groaned, his eyes rolling up into his head, then took one of your ear lobes into his mouth, gently sucking it.

You let out a sigh that made your body feel like a deflated mylar balloon, just barely floating along. But as Max became more engrossed in your scent, specifically your out-in-the-open penny-flavoured pussy, his control over you began to slip. The feeling of him sucking and licking and nipping at your ear and neck started to lose its muted sensation, and the haze that had wrapped itself around your mind was lifting. The clarity you suddenly felt as more than one of his fingers pushed into your hole made you suck in a staggered breath. He lazily pumped his fingers in time with the licks and sloppy open mouth kisses he lavished your ear and neck with. 

Despite that clarity, you couldn’t stop him. He sounded so… euphoric. His moans and his grunts and his groans, hums and small huffs of delight were hypnotic all on their own. That and you had never had someone seem so engrossed in having you lay starfish and make you cum. At least, your ex wasn’t like that - he’d haphazardly finger you with untrimmed nails and rub your clit raw, spend three minutes panting and whining in your ear as his dick missed your hole like a fly not being able to find a window and then crowed like a rooster when he came… why did I stay with him? you thought.

Max seemed to sense your mind wandering to past events and he lifted himself, hovering over your cramped up torso against the car door. His furrowed brow seemed exaggerated by the shadows being draped over him, and the dim light of the streetlight outside casted eye shines on his black orbs. His fingers continued to piston in and out of you harshly. The discomfort of his rhythm paled in comparison to the outright pain of the cramps that had your uterus in a vice. 

“Turn off your fucking brain or I’ll do it for you.”

You swallowed and nodded as best as you could with your chin crunched down against your chest, and he lowered himself back down, resuming his mouth’s work on your neck, and you felt a slight sting. You let out a soft moan, and in response he licked where his teeth had grazed you then hummed and  grunted as he kissed and sucked the spot, the vibrations adding to the stimulation on your neck. As soon as you started to let yourself get lost in euphoria, you could feel your orgasm building. 

“I can feel it”, he hummed, bringing his face to yours. “Can feel her quivering and shaking…”

You let out a panting mewl as his breath huffed over your face in a laugh. You clenched on his fingers and wanted to grab him to ground your body, but you couldn’t. It was like you had no control over anything but your breathing and everything was tingling with pins and needles, completely useless to you. 

“Good… finally. Jesus, took your fucking time.”, Max said, rolling his eyes. He pulled out his fingers and shoved his fingers into his mouth, humming satisfied, and closed his eyes in relishment.

It was so abrupt. He took away his hand before you had fully come down and you looked up at him confused as he sucked on his fingers. His brows raised and his other hand came up, making a circular motion, telling you to get a move on with… something?

“Wha–”

“My fucking pants! These are a cashmere-wool blend and I saw the Wal-Mart brand, multipack underwear you were wearing, Bloody Mary - I know you can’t afford my dry cleaner!”

You stared up at him like he had three heads, not putting the pieces together.

He leaned forward and his voice dropped into a low, menacing tone. “I am not going to fuck you with my pants on, Bloody Mary. My hand is a fucking mess because of you so make with the no pants.”

“Shit…”, you muttered as you sat up, shaky hands pulling open the dark, expensive looking belt. “Do you want to have anything else taken off? Like your shirt or vest?”

He rolls his eyes and shrugs off his overcoat, then his suit jacket, then muttered, “You deal with the fucking buttons.” He opened his hands to indicate he was talking about his vest, impatiently raising his eyebrows to tell you he was waiting.

With your shaky fingers on his buttons, you clumsily opened one at a time. The bliss from your previous orgasm had subsided and the cramps in your abdomen came roaring back along with a wave of hot nausea. Max groaned in irritation and impatience, watching your face contort. His hand snaked around to the back of your head and gripped your hair.

Yanking down, he forced your face up to look at his. The shadows cast across this face seemed deeper, highlighting every crease and fold in his skin as he scowled at you. “Focus. I’m doing you a favour, sweetheart.”

You felt the warm, liquidy feeling begin to ebb and flow over your mind again as you stared into his eyes and your hands seemed to be under his control, deftly unbuttoning his vest and dress shirt. He still held you by the back of your head, hair scruffed like you were a feral cat and not a docile, hypnotized, bleeding human.

Once Max had his smooth abdomen on display, your hands moved back down to his pants, unbuttoning them then pulling the zipper down, getting a peak at the pair of dark blue - with little red umbrellas - European style briefs underneath. Under his control, you tugged them down, showcasing the impressive outline of his semi-hard cock. You raised a brow as you gazed down from the awkward angle from which he held your head and made a complimentary ‘huh’. Even if the circumstances were different, you’d have a hard time kicking him out for eating crackers in bed. 

“Take a fucking picture next time, Mary.”

Your eyes jumped up to him and he scowled at you impatiently. 

“My dick could be out, rammed into your bloody slash, kicking your cramp’s ass, but you’re being pretty fucking ineffective with your and my time.”, Max snarled. “So knock off the ogling and get back to work!”

The tone at which he barked reminded you of the manager you had when you were 15 with your first summer job at McDonald’s. He had chastised you for cooking the fries too long and berated you in front of the entire crew on your shift, and left you in tears, sobbing on the dirty staff bathroom floor. This time though, the beratement made your hole twitch and ooze, and heat bloomed in your pelvis. 

On your own volition, you pulled down his underwear to where his pants had landed mid-thigh and tugged both the rest of the way to his knees. Even though you were working as quickly as you could given the cramped conditions and the weird hold he had on the back of your head, Max still seemed to think you were moving too slowly and he shoved you back against the door and grabbed your leg at the knee, yanking your crimson core towards him. 

“Finally.”, he grunted as he lined himself up and sunk into you. He wasn’t the biggest you’d had but he was thick and it felt amazing juxtaposed to the cramps. He let out a deep, low groan as his dick disappeared into you, feeling the hot, slick grip you had on him once he was fully seated in you. 

“Please… fuck-move…”, you moaned, you eyes closed and brows pinched.

“Thank fuck you have manners.”, Max muttered as he started to slowly pull out and then push back in.

He kept the slower pace and at first you thought it was for your benefit, until you opened your eyes a crack then jumped - Max was staring at you intensely, mouth pulled into a tight frown. He looked like he was concentrating hard on something. He noticed you looking at him and he narrowed his eyes.

“Pacing yourself is important.”, he grunted out through clenched teeth. “It’s a good strategy in 

not overwhelming yourself… and- fuck…” He stopped and worked to regain his composure. “And it’s effective to do something at a steady speed so you don-don’t get tired.”

Beyond the steady, rhythmic pace at which he repeatedly impaled you, his words made you want to recoil from him. He sounded as if Patrick Bateman wrote a ‘how to’ guide for managerial sex. It was clear he was enjoying this far more than he wanted to let on and his ‘pace’ was him trying not to blow his load quickly…

Which lead your thoughts down a tangent: do vampires have loads to blow? Is it like you imagined Edward Cullen’s cum being glitter glue-esque when you were 18? Was it like that neon green slime you saw at the Dollar Store? Was it just like regular cum but maybe Count Chocula flavoured?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the pinch you felt on the inside of your thigh and you caught Max glaring to you while he kept pace, 

“Am I boring you?”, he spat out venomously. “I’m doing this for your fucking benefit, you know…”

You started to get lost in his eyes again, missing out on his face contorting as his features became gargoyle-esque. You only noticed when he began to quicken his thrust, becoming harsher and he leaned down almost nose to nose. The menacingly intimate proximity made your cunt tighten and flutter, bringing you right to the edge of another orgasm.

Before you could react, his face moved fast to your neck and he bit down. That was all you needed to set off the stick of dynamite in your pussy and you came hard, flooding any crevice or space that existed between you with your crimson tide. 

Max released his bite and pulled back, mouth red, wet and dripping.  “I bet you’re one of those leftists who just fucking loves unions.”, Max growled lowly, keeping up his brutal pace as he fucked you through your orgasm.

You have no idea why, but you nodded in response, panting a breathy, pained “Yes!” as you shook and cried out. His eyes rolled back and let out a groan turned high-pitched whine and stilled as he arched his hips into you, unloading whatever mystery goo vampires jizz. 

Whatever vulnerability you thought might come post-vampiric sex never came, and before you could crawl out of the haze your mind was in, Max was wiping his crotch with your discarded leggings then fixing his pants and dress shirt. Then he was shimming your panty liner-saddled underwear and now-sticky leggings back on you. He opened the car door behind him, got out and walked around the vehicle. The door you were butted up against opened, and you fell back against him, and Max’s arms hooked under your shoulders and pulled you out, unceremoniously dropping you on your ass. He turned back to the car, pulling out the bags of pads and tampons he'd gotten and the paper bag of painkillers and threw them at you.

“There. All fucking better.”

Stunned, you watched him get into the driver’s seat and made the engine roar to life. He hit the gas and drove forward to the end of the lot then turned around. As he passed you to get to the exit, you watched as he picked up your bloody tampon and put it in his mouth like a cigar.

****

A month later, you woke up to the telltale twinge that heralded your period and as you rummaged under the sink through the ridiculous amounts of period products, you wondered if you should make a trip to Walgreens. 

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[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

can we have villain kenji dating headcanons please😞🙏

Oh boy...well, I can try

Villain! Kenji x Fem reader

Mentions of blood, fighting (not with you), and death/character death (not you), you being morally grey...and Kenji being a simp.

He's a complete sweetheart to you and WORSHIPS the ground you walk on. Ever heard of a feminist nut-case? It's him. He respects you wholeheartedly and sees you for you because his mama raised him right.

Super gentle and a soft-talker with you. You're...actually the ONLY person he's like this around. To everyone else, arrogant prick x10 on a regular basis.

He likes to cuddle you after a long day and whisper sweet-nothings into your ear. "I missed you so much" "I love you so much, baby" "stay with me, please" cue the cutest goo goo eyes you've ever seen. How could you say no to him?

This man doesn't know when to stop gifting so whenever he even THINKS about something you would like you better prepare for there to be a box of whatever product it is on your doorstep.

Gamer girl? New gaming equipment in your favorite color. Book girl? New books on your doorstep. Baker, artist, crafter? All of it on your doorstep.

You ask for something? Consider it done. You LOOK at something in the mall? It's yours.

If he thinks a certain outfit would look good on you or he finds a certain candy, you like? All yours...just please don't leave him.

Ken lets you ride on his motorcycle from time to time. He prefers you in the back with your arms wrapped around him because it's a comforting feeling, not to mention safe. But if you want, he'll let you sit in the front but it's rare.

A guy cat-called you once while Kenji was there with you. Yeah uh...that guy was sent to the hospital. It was the first time you've ever seen him so...angry. You've heard rumors of Kenji's temper but seeing as he was so sweet to you, you just thought the rumors were just...rumors.

That was until you literally had to pull him off the guy so he wouldn't kill him. Seriously, he was strangling him after punching him in the face 10 times.

It was...kind of hot to be fair.

Kenji's hair was disheveled, his nose bleeding, and a fiery look in his eyes. And you found his act of rage a little sweet. If he was willing to strangle a guy for just catcalling you, what would he do if a guy touched you?

You then realized you found a good guy who's willing to stand up for you! Albeit a bit crazy, but still a good guy.

After his anger went away, the soft side of him came back and apologized to you profusely.

"I- I'm so sorry baby, p- please don't leave! Y- You were never supposed to see that side of me, shit! I'm a good guy I promise I am! He...he just, he deserved it! He shouldn't have been talking to you like that! You're a princess to me baby, a queen! And you deserve to be treated like one...please don't leave me..."

He meant every word of it girl...every. last. word. Especially the "don't leave me" parts.

Before you came along, Kenji was alone. So utterly alone. His beloved mother was dead. His father....ugh (don't even get him started on that). No friends or relatives to talk to or come by. One-night stands didn't do anything except a couple seconds of bliss.

So, like I said, so completely and utterly alone.

But when you came along...you changed that. An angel from the heavens that chose him to spend their time with.

This man would let the world burn if it meant to save your life. He doesn't like people very much anyway.

He introduced you to Lillith, his black IBM female boa. Let's pretend you like snakes.

Snake ahead, TRIGGER WARNING

You find her absolutely adorable and sweet. She likes you a lot too! You let her hang around your neck or arm when Kenji brings her too your dates or when you hang out at his house.

Kenji loves that his two favorite girls are getting along. He has many pictures of you two chilling in his phone and looks at them from time to time to actually feel something other than anger or nothing while he's out.

You brought back a light in him that he thought had died a long time ago. A reason to live...well, apart from baseball, killing Kaiju's, and ruining his father's legacy of course.

Fancy dining places are a must. You can't blame the man for want to wine and dine you...and showing you off to the press a little bit.

Hmmm...you found it odd that the guy that cat-called you hasn't pressed charges or uttered a peep about what ken did to him. You understood why the news hadn't caught footage of the incident tho.

It happened late at night when you and Kenji were coming out of a bar. It had been raining that night and most of the lights went out due to the water getting to the electricity.

So, it would be hard for the cameras to pick up faces very well due to the darkness and most of them circuiting out too.

But it was so strange...nothing from him.

You got your answer when you turned the news on though.

The guy that cat-called you was found dead in a trash bin next to the EXACT same bar you had your date with Kenji. Ishima Agama was his name.

He seemed to have suffered horrible lacerations, burns, severed limbs, and much other nasty things.

His death...didn't bother you though. You figured Kenji must've done it. I mean...who else would've done it? It only happened two weeks after Kenji pummeled him, and it was in the exact same place it beat his ass.

You always trusted your gut and your gut says it's Kenji. But instead of seeing this as a red flag, you saw it as a green one!

He killed for you just because of a cat-calling degenerate. That's the nicest thing a guy has ever done for you!

After dating for about a year or so, he told you that he was Ultraman! Which...is the coolest freaking thing ever!

He saved Japan from Kaiju's countless of times! So, what if his methods were a little violent? The Kaiju's were too. That's how violent animals were supposed to be treated right? Either with sedatives or brute force.

He was so confused as to why you were so cool with it but as you explained your reasons...he knew you were a keeper.

After that little adventure he introduced you to the idea of Kaiju meat. Something Kenji has tailored to him and a few other rich people (let's pretend Kaiju's don't have radiation). Turns out the KDF also sells a few cutlets of meat to a few rich folks who want a taste of a rare "delicacy" meat.

It's actually quite good when it's cooked and served right, better that wagyu.

Sooo, yeah, you two lovebirds get along great!

His anger issues, arrogance, or murderous tendencies to affect you because you love him for who he is...and for the fact that he never acts that way toward you.

That's all I've got, if you guys want anything more specific, lmk!

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 4.7k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

A/N: You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

!!! This chapter contains dialogue in High Valyrian, which will be designated by bold and italics...enjoy :)

A week had slipped away since Jaenara and her family had settled into King’s Landing. She found herself passing time by discussing plans for the upcoming coronation with her mother or entertaining little Aegon and Viserys. Occasionally, she rode out on dragonback with Baela and Rhaena, savoring the freedom of the skies above. When she was up amongst the clouds, the princess forgot all about what her life had become down below. Sitting atop Aetherion, it was as if nothing else mattered.

Yet above all, Jaenara found herself occupied with a careful dance of avoidance whenever Aemond Targaryen crossed her path. She had escaped several close calls, ducking into unoccupied rooms whenever she saw the prince at the other side of a hallway. Jaenara had often wondered to herself if she could continue to keep up this game of cat and mouse well into their marriage, but the prospect of having to constantly hide from the man who was to be her husband did sadden her. Ever so slightly. 

Currently, the princess found herself in the castle gardens walking shoulder to shoulder with Helaena. Jaenara had not had as much alone time with her aunt as she would have liked, and was eager to reconnect with the one member of the Targaryen-Hightowers she could actually stand to be around. Helaena seemed to be pleased with the company, though it was difficult for Jaenara to tell at times. Her aunt had always been a somewhat emotionally distant person, even when they were children.

“My mother tells me that the planning for Rhaenyra’s coronation is almost finished?” Helaena inquires.

Jaenara and Jacaerys had both been closely involved with the planning of their mother’s name day ceremony. The preparations had proven to be stressful, even now plaguing the princess’ mind. Temporary discomfort is a small price to pay for mother to sit the Iron Throne - Jaenara had told herself. Though, she could not say she felt the same way about the looming, permanent discomfort she would soon find herself in…

Rhaenyra had even tried to include Aegon in the ceremony planning as well. An offering for the position he had given up for his older sister. Though he had seemed less than interested, opting to disappear for hours at a time instead. Even now, Jaenara wondered where her uncle often took off to, leaving her sweet aunt and their children alone. She questioned if she would be condemned to such a fate as well - Aemond fluttering about doing gods know what while she was left to care for their babes alone. The princess decides it is best not to mull over such depressing possibilities that she may soon enough find herself in.

“Yes, her name day will be here before we know it - just a short week away. Though I find myself anxious about the festivities.” Jaenara finally responds. 

“I understand,” Helena breathes, “I am not one for crowds either.”

“Well then we must stick together until the whole ordeal is over.” Jaenara reassures her aunt. And herself.

“I would gladly,” Helaena giggles, “Though when your wedding day arrives, my brother will stand at your side, not I."

Jaenara sighed - another formality she had been dreading heavily. She’d venture to guess that the moment her mother’s name day passes, planning for the wedding will begin immediately. The princess knew that her scarcity of interactions with Aemond would not last for much longer. Not if either of their mothers could help it. 

Jaenara felt she had little to discuss with her betrothed. What else was there to say?

Helaena came to a halt, bending down to pick up a large, green beetle. Jaenara winced - she had never been one for bugs, save for the pretty butterflies she had often chased with her aunt in their youth. She watched as the beetle began to travel up Helaena’s arm. Jaenara found that Helaena looked serene, her blonde-white hair picked up by the breeze and a content smile on her lips. The princess decides to take advantage of the peaceful moment to ask her aunt a troubled question.

“What is it like? Being married, that is.” Jaenara’s face grows serious.

Helaena removes the beetle from her forearm with a gentle touch and places it on a leaf below.

“It doesn’t really feel like anything,” She says, though her aunt does not sound particularly bothered by the dreary thought, “Aegon does not pay me much mind. Save for the times we have…done our duty.”

Jaenara clears her throat awkwardly.

“So, I suppose it is not so bad. I am free to do as I please. As he is. Though I think Aemond will make a better lover.” Helaena finishes. Jaenara looks at her aunt as if she has three heads and scoffs. She looks back at the princess with a coy look on her face.

“What a terrifying thought.” Jaenara sounds defeated as the two women resume their walk. A calm silence passes over them once again, as does the gentle breeze.  

Helaena looks as though someone is speaking to her and finds herself gazing up at the sky for a moment - and then to her niece.

She smiles, as if the clouds have told her a secret.

— — —

On the far side of the Red Keep, The One Eyed Prince begins to lay the groundwork of his plan to put his soon-to-be wife on the Iron Throne. Aemond has decided he must get in the good graces of his family - especially Jacaerys - if he is to carry out familicide without raising any suspicion that he had a hand in it. Something easier said than done, Aemond knows. Any amount of decency he could afford the heir and his brother would be met with scrutiny. A few kind words will not undo years of victimization dealt on both sides. 

Aemond clenches his jaw as he searches for his nephews throughout the grounds of the Red Keep. Locating them had proven to be challenging, though not as much as finding their sister. Aemond knew that Jaenara had been purposefully avoiding him. One evening, he had even caught sight of her ducking into her mother’s chambers when he had turned a corner, entering the same hallway as her. Her elusion frustrated the prince. If he could not speak to the princess and build up a rapport with her, then she would assuredly be the first to point her finger at him when news of Jace’s murder came about.  

Just when Aemond is about to give up entirely, he spots Jacaerys and Lucerys in the training yard, wooden swords in hand. Aemond lurks back for a moment, watching them practice their drills. Their moves are quick and calculated, proving that his nephews had become even more skilled fighters during their time away from the Red Keep. Though their moves had a certain unrefined quality to them. Aemond finally moves from his spot, drawing nearer to the princes. Lucerys spots him first and mumbles a curse under his breath, as hid older brother turns to meet Aemond’s eyes. Aemond smirks at the boys, and he can tell it takes all of Jace’s strength not to throw down his play sword and saunter off. 

The prince stands tall over his nephews, to hide the uneasiness he feels about approaching them. He’s pulled his long, sleek hair into a bun. His own sword, a practice blade worn smooth from countless hours of swinging, hung loose at his side

The air is tense around the group and a short silence hangs over them. Clanking of wood and metal and grunts fills the yard as the princes all stare at each other.

Aemond finally clears his throat and breaks the quiet.

"You're both too cautious," he remarks in a voice that carries authority but also a hint of patience. "Don't overthink your strikes. Let them flow naturally. It's about instinct as much as it is about technique."

Jacaerys narrowed his eyes skeptically. "You must think of us as fools, uncle. Why would we listen to you? You do not practice the habit of fighting honorably - Luke and I’ve both seen that.”

And what would you know about fighting honorably? Aemond remarks to himself.

Where is the honor in gouging out a boy’s eye? 

He inhales a deep breath to calm his rising frustration.

Lucerys, ever the more reserved of the two, held his ground but watched Aemond with a cautious curiosity.

Aemond knows he should not make the jest, but before he can stop himself, the words fall from his smug mouth.

“Fools? No - I only see two Strong boys before me.” 

Both of the brother’s harden their gaze. This time, Jacaerys does take off, with Luke trailing behind.

Fuck.

“But!” Aemond is quick to add to his lecture, desperate to keep the boys where they are, “Honor in battle is not always as straightforward as the songs would have it. There are times when survival demands unconventional measures.”

“And how,” Jace has stopped and turned to face his uncle once more, “would you know anything of a real battle?”

“You forget I train with Ser Criston Cole.” “You forget we trained with Daemon Targaryen.”

Aemond chooses to bite back another remark about how - despite training with one of the realm’s most formidable soldiers, the brother’s still lacked the necessary knowledge and skills.

Instead, he walks back towards their place in the yard and motions for the Velaryons to follow him. Jace stares at him a moment, lets out an exaggerated huff and mutters, “Come on, Luke.”

At their return, Aemond demonstrates a quick feint, his movements precise. “You’re signaling your intent with your movements, Jacaerys. And Lucerys, you hesitate before every strike. Be bold, but calculated. Like this," he continued, demonstrating a fluid series of strikes and blocks. Luke, with a touch of reservation, takes up a fighting stance in front of his older brother.

Aemond nodded approvingly. "Let's try it again. And this time, don't hold back."

For the remainder of the afternoon, Aemond guided them through drills and techniques, offering pointers in between bouts. Slowly, the initial wariness between the boys and the Targaryen prince faded, replaced by a grudging respect for his skill and knowledge.

When the sun had begun to dip into the horizon, the three young heirs sheathed their swords. Aemond found a rare smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. He did not find any joy in the times he sparred with Aegon, which had been few and far between lately. His brother had no real interest in learning and bettering his skills. And Criston Cole was becoming predictable - through no fault of his own. Aemond simply had no one else to spar with that was anywhere near his level. He found unexpected fulfillment in teaching his nephews.

Jace finally deposits his wooden sword with the others in the training yard, Luke following suit. 

With a huff and an expression that makes the prince seem physically pained he tells his uncle, “Well. That was rather…I did not think I’d ever see the day where you would give us any kind of genuine advice. Nevertheless, I am…grateful for your counsel uncle.” 

“Yes. Thank you, Aemond.” Lucerys adds curtly.

Aemond gives them a nod as acknowledgment.

Naive fools.

With that, Jace and Luke begin their journey back into the Red Keep. Aemond watches the boys stride away side by side. He almost resigns himself to turning in for the day, when a thought suddenly enters his mind. 

“Do you know where I might find your sister?” He calls after them. 

Jace remains silent continuing his walk. Aemond rolls his eyes.

She has sworn them to secrecy.

Lucerys seems to take some sort of pity on his uncle after their shared afternoon - much to the dismay of Jace, “I think she spoke of spending time in the gardens…” the younger brother’s sentence trails off when he sees the look Jacaerys gives him. 

Aemond nods gratefully, though no one sees it, and sets off towards the gardens, his mind already racing. He knew spending time with Jaenara was another crucial part of his plan he needed to begin sowing the seeds for. As much as she may detest it.

The believed that if he could convincingly pretend to be infatuated with his niece, to the extent that she truly believed his feelings were genuine, it might help divert suspicion away from him regarding her brother’s eventual murder. She may even come to defend him, when the time comes. Though this would prove to be a challenge.

“You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love” Aemond’s own words from her first evening back at King’s Landing echoed in his mind.

Aemond lets out a frustrated groan and picks up his pace.

When he reaches the gardens, Aemond finds Jaenara and his sister seated on a weathered stone bench in deep discourse, while their ladies-in-waiting linger nearby, amusing themselves.

The distant laughter of the two maidens surprises Aemond and stirs a hint of a smile on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time his sister had laughed so freely. It was then, he realized, he had never heard Jaenara genuinely laugh. Everything she let out in his presence was nothing more that a scoff or dry laugh. This, he thought, was a nice change of pace. Happiness suited her.

I should leave them. Aemond’s resolve falters for a moment, and he pivots for a swift and silent retreat. Yet, his sister catches sight of him before he can vanish.

"Aemond!" Helaena's voice rings out, compelling him to sigh and reluctantly turn back to face them.

Helaena's eyes glint with mischief as she waves a hand, beckoning him over. Meanwhile, the fleeting smile on Jaenara's face vanishes, replaced by an indifferent gaze.

"Aemond," his sister greets again, her tone laced with curiosity. "Where have you been?"

"Just sparring with your brothers," Aemond replies, his gaze drifting towards Jaenara.

The surprise in Jaenara's eyes is evident and impossible to conceal.

"With Jace and Luke?" she questions, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You seem…unscathed. I trust the same can be said for my brothers?"

"It was just a training session - nothing if not civil. I only meant to give them a bit of advice," Aemond responds, a smirk playing upon his lips.

Helaena suddenly springs to her feet. "I don’t believe you two have had many opportunities to speak as of late. I will leave you to catch up" she suggests, a faraway look on her face. "I must attend to the children." Her lady-in-waiting follows closely behind as she departs.

Jaenara starts to rise, offering to assist, but Helaena insists she stay. Aemond can't help but conceal his amusement at Jaenara’s desperate state.

The princess exhales sharply and resumes her promenade through the gardens, without so much as a glance over her shoulder at Aemond. With a huff, he follows behind her, as her lady-in-waiting mirrors.

The prince wishes he could dismiss the attendant, wishing for a moment alone with Jaenara to speak without restraint. 

He thinks of another solution.

Aemond peers down at his niece and lets High Valyrian fall freely from his lips.

“You have been avoiding me.” 

Jaenara does not remove her eyes from the path in front of her.

“You have not sought me out.” She retorts, her tone cool and collected. Aemond lights up. He had not expected his niece to be fluent in their mother tongue, and hearing her voice enunciate the ancient words caused something unknown inside of him to stir. 

“I am now,” he replies evenly, “ And I have to say, I had not expected you to be so fluent in Valyrian. Not even my brother speaks it so well. That idiot can barely piece together a single sentence.” 

Jaenara laughs, “I am a Targaryen. Every Targaryen should speak their language. Understand their history.”

Aemond nods, “Something we can agree on, niece. Though I have to say, you speak it better than I thought a-”

“Then a bastard would?” Her words are laced with a bittersweet acknowledgment that catches Aemond off guard. His niece had never spoken the truth of her parentage in front of him - or anyone for that matter. In truth, Aemond found him unsettled from her acquiescence. Though he understood the only reason she dared to acknowledge the truth now, is because no one around them had a clue what she was saying. 

“You’re not laughing, uncle. Very unlike you - you who never passes up an opportunity to remind me of my blood.” Jaenara still seemed unfazed, her attention drifting to a cluster of blue irises at their feet. She bends gracefully to touch the silky petals, and Aemond finds himself captivated by the way her dark hair spills like a cascade of black silk over the blossoms. He clears his throat.

“You are to be my…ābrazȳrys (wife). I no longer wish to humiliate you over things out of your control, such as your parentage.” Aemond’s voice is steady and controlled, betraying his inner turmoil over making such remarks.

Jaenara lets out a laugh, though it sounds hollow. Much unlike the laughter she had shared with his sister. Her lady-in-waiting shifts uncomfortably behind them. “Actions speak louder than words, Aemond.” The princess rises from her spot amongst the flowers, turning to face her betrothed.

Aemond is filled with a stubborn determination at hearing her challenge, and takes a few steps towards her - until he can feel his niece’s breath fan over him. He stares down at her, and finds that he enjoys how she does not shrink under his gaze.

“Pār nyke jāhor gaomagon.” - Then I will act.

Jaenara laughs again, but it is quickly put to an end.

“I do not know why you laugh, Jaenara. I am being sincere.” His gaze is hard. 

She considers his words for a moment, and turns back to the garden path. The princess returns to the common tongue. 

"Come along, it is growing darker," Jaenara says, her voice carrying a hint of finality as she resumes their journey along the garden path. Aemond follows silently, his mind still processing the weight of their conversation. The sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the estate grounds, while a cool evening breeze stirs the leaves of ancient trees. When the couple finally reach the stone archways and paths of the Red Keep, Aemond speaks up once more. 

“You will have breakfast with me. Tomorrow” It is not a question, though his tone remains soft..

“I will?” Jaenara asks, an eyebrow raised in defiance.

“This is me taking action.” He offers her a wry smile.

Jaenara exhales and looks to her handmaiden, who skillfully avoids her gaze. “Fine. I will see you in the morning” She stomps off to her chambers, lady-in-waiting trailing behind. The princess does not get to see the small, honest smile that settles on Aemond’s lips. 

— — —

Early the next morning, Jaenara awakes to a polite knock on her chamber door. Alora, her lady-in-waiting, entered cautiously, offering a sheepish greeting. "Good morning, Your Grace."

The princess rubbed her eyes wearily and yawned. "Good morning, Alora. And please, call me Jaenara when it is just us. No need for formality in the privacy of these chambers." she replied with a tired attempt at a smile.

"Oh! Yes, my lady—I mean, Jaenara," Alora stumbled over her words, feeling conflicted over addressing a princess so casually. "Um... Aemond - the prince - sent me to assist you with dressing. He wishes to have breakfast with you?" She sounds uncertain.

Jaenara sighed lightly and pushed herself to her feet. "Very well. Let's not keep him waiting," she said, giving Alora a reassuring glance.

Alora deftly combs out Jaenara's long, ebony hair, swiftly braiding half of it and letting the rest fall down her back. As the princess gradually awakened, she engaged in light conversation with the younger girl, easing her nerves. 

With gentle assistance, Alora helped Jaenara into a splendid dress—its upper half a deep shade of black, its lower half a rich crimson. The sleeves were wrought with golden embroidery. Once satisfied with her handiwork, Alora guided Jaenara to the dining room, where Aemond awaited their arrival.

“Thank you, Alora. I think that will be all for now.” The princess smiles at her lady, dismissing her. Jaenara hesitantly pulls out a chair across from Aemond.

“Good morning.” She offers. An honest attempt at niceties. 

Aemond hums, sounding pleased. “Good morning.”

It remains quiet for a while, as the two begin to serve themselves and take a few bites of the breakfast that has been prepared. The prince steals glances at his niece, observing how her dark curls frame her face. Watching her spoon her food gracefully. Noting how her dress clings to her.

At last, Aemond ventured to break the quiet. “That dress suits you well.”

The princess pauses her cutting of a sausage. Jaenara had not expected to hear that kind of comment so early in the morning. And no less from Aemond of all people. She narrows her eyes at him.

“What?” She asks, as if offended.

Aemond pauses, mid-bite. “I only meant it as a compliment. The Targaryen colors agree with you.” 

Jaenara continues with her meal, deciding that pretending as though she had not heard her uncle was the best course of action.

Why did he say that? Does he mean to mock me?

The prince breaks the silence once more, wanting to change the subject. "I hear your mother's name day preparations have been finalized."

Jaenara swallows a mouthful of food and clears her throat. “Um…yes. I believe so. Everything should be in place by now. The ceremony will be in…five days? I believe.”

"My mother seems unusually eager for the occasion," Aemond remarked. "She and Rhaenyra have been quite chatty lately."

“You’ve noticed too?”

“It is hard not to.” Aemond admitted.

Jaenara shrugs, “True enough. Well, they seem happier anyway.”

Aemond only hums in agreement. “My mother, although…she seems to be even more excited about the wedding than the coronation ceremony.”

Jaenara sputtered on the ale served alongside their meal.

A smug grin spread across the prince's face.

“Oh? Is that so?” She asks as nonchalantly as she can. 

“Oh yes,” Aemond sounds amused, “I hear her and Rhaenyra have taken to planning a few things.”

"What!?" Now Jaenara could not hide her surprise. Her outburst drew the attention of nearby servants, and Aemond grinned at her fluttering.

“Um - I only meant. I had not known they were already planning the ceremony.” She finished, dabbing a napkin to the corners of her mouth.

“Well someone has to. We certainly have not spoken about it.” Aemond remarks.

Jaenara almost feels guilty. She searches Aemond’s eyes for any indication of regret or sadness over their lack of time together. 

“Well then…what would you like to discuss about it?” The princess makes an attempt to turn to the matter.

Aemond considers the question. “What kind of cake would you like?”

Jaenara lets out a true laugh at that, catching Aemond off guard.

“If I must tell you,” She says while catching her breath, “I am fond of lemon pastries.”

Aemond makes a noise of agreement. He recalls that her mother favors the sweets as well. “Then we shall have them.”

Jaenara looks up from her meal and the couple lock eyes. She stares intently into his, trying to decipher his unreadable expression. 

What are you doing, uncle? She is left to wonder. Jaenara feels a crack begin to form in the walls she had put up to keep Aemond out. But the fracture is filled as quickly as it appears when she considers that Aemond is simply playing his part. Putting up a charade. The princess looks at the man before her, and can only seem to remember the cruelties that he has dealt. Her heart hardens.

"Why do you care?" she questioned, her tone accusatory. Despite their heartfelt conversation in the garden the day before, Jaenara only continued in her struggle to believe in her uncle's sincerity.

“Because I want to care.” Aemond is taken aback, though he makes an effort to sound earnest.

The princess scoffs and takes a swig of ale. She rises to her feet.

“I am full.” she declares, signaling an end to the meal and perhaps to their conversation. Jaenara stands and walks the length of the table, drawing near to the door but coming close to Aemond.

That strikes a chord within the prince, “You are about as stubborn as a damn mule,” he mutters under his breath.

The retort is not lost upon the princess’ ears. Jaenara spun around abruptly, facing her uncle where he was currently still seated. "Excuse me?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Damn it," Aemond whispered to himself, closing his eyes briefly. 

“And here I thought you were being truthful yesterday when you said you no longer meant to belittle me.” She bites.

Some unseen force compelled Aemond onward. He reached out and gently but firmly grasped his niece's wrist.

"I only meant..." He struggled to find the right words. "Gods, you're infuriating."

Jaenara felt a stirring within her at his touch, but she pushed the sensation aside, focusing instead on his words. "I’m infuriating?" 

Now, Aemond raises his voice. “Yes! Infuriating. I am making a sincere effort to get to know you, and I am met with nothing but resistance. There is nothing we can do to change the marriage we will soon find ourselves in,” He rises from his chair, hand still gripped around Jaenara, “but I am making a sincere attempt to make it more bearable. For you.”

A part of Aemond understood that his words were primarily to uphold a facade, to maintain the illusion of feigned interest in his niece. Yet another part of him recognized sincerity in his sentiments. He couldn't help but feel pity for Jaenara. This thought had crossed his mind repeatedly—in the quiet of his chambers, in the stillness of the night, and even yesterday as he watched her depart from the estate gardens. She had undoubtedly drawn the short straw amidst their betrothal.

Jaenara Velaryon was being forced to marry Aemond, a scarred and flawed second son by his own reckoning. While Aemond had initially perceived the proposal of marriage to his own bastard niece as an insult, he couldn't deny the faint attraction he harbored towards her— a sentiment he was certain she did not reciprocate. 

The princess regarded her uncle with a peculiar mix of curiosity and contemplation, allowing his words to sink in. Jaenara's relationship with her uncle had always been incredibly strained — tense. Yet, as she observed the furrow in his brow and the genuine anguish in his eyes, she sensed a truth in his earnest plea. She reflected on her initial hopes—that they might spend their lives avoiding each other, barely exchanging words. Yet, standing before him now, she reconsidered. If Aemond—of all people—could muster some semblance of kindness, however feigned, Jaenara resolved she could reciprocate. Even if it was nothing but a lie. 

For in the convoluted dance of courtly alliances and familial expectations, sometimes even the semblance of civility could hold more weight than honesty in securing fragile peace.

With hesitant resolve, she reached out, gently clasping his hand in hers. Aemond feels goosebumps form on his skin from the additional contact. 

"Aemond," she began quietly, meeting his gaze squarely. He makes an effort to memorize how his name sounds on her lips.

Gods be damned, he thought. 

"I apologize. I hadn't fully appreciated your efforts. You are right. For this marriage to have any chance of contentment and peace, we must find common ground. We must make an effort to get to know each other."

The princess finished her apology, her words hanging in the air between them. All Aemond could manage in response was a silent nod, fearing that his mouth would betray him if he were to open it.

Jaenara withdrew her hand from his with a slight hesitation. "Well…I should be going. I intend to meet with my mother to discuss our impending wedding. There is much to plan," she added, her voice faltering slightly as she hurried out of the room.

Aemond stood there, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He glanced down at the hand that had briefly held his niece's, flexing his fingers thoughtfully, a mixture of uncertainty and determination swirling within him.

A/N: As you may have noticed, this chapter is structured a little differently! I decided to make these changes for narrative purposes/so everything flows better. Because of this, I will be revising the previous two chapters, so the next chapter may take a little longer to come out (I also have a job interview coming up, so I will be doing a lot more than just brainstorming and writing now T-T) Anyways! As always, thank you for reading :)

Tags: @toodlesxcuddles

[websterss]

SEE YOU AT THE MEADOW — GUILDFORD DUDLEY

REQUEST: yeah julie I’m gonna need you to continue writing fics for Guilford cause i’m pretty sure you’re the only one atm. so just a small request (reader is an ethian maid for the dudley’s so her and guilford just grow a bond over the years. she could be a cat and sometimes she’ll shift to lay in his lap to get pats or she’ll walk with him in the morning when he’s a horse to keep him company for a bit. just some good friends to lovers type vibe) I LOVE YOU JULIEEEEEE💗💗💗💗💗💗💗@raggedyoldwitch

WARNING(S): fluff

WORD COUNT: 2,002

PAIRING: Guildford Dudley x Ethian!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

You were only a child when Lord Dudley’s second son made his first transformation. The news was short-lived when you and your mother were made aware of Lady Dudley’s death. You hadn’t received much news on the matter but whispers amongst the kitchen maids settled on Guildford being at the cause of it. You were just as grave as he was, especially when all the whole servants were dismissed besides Bertie.

Your mother begged to stay but Lord Dudley was persistent on having you leave them. it wasn’t until you transformed yourself into a cat that he was swayed.

He even thought that if you had so easily controlled when you could shift between forms then perhaps you’d be able to help his son accomplish the same.

You didn’t though…

It was only the beginning of your friendship. A little girl trying to help a boy, who thought he was cursed. His only contrast to his curse was that he fully believed for you to be given a gift. That got him a pebble thrown at his head.

”You cannot hit me. I’m of importance!” Little Guildford protested, rubbing at the spot he was sure to receive a nasty bump.

“Really. I did not know.” You proceed to throw him another rock.

“Stop that!”

“You are not even trying!” You sighed. "It's easy. Look!" You bent at the waist as your body morphed. Your human form no more as a brown and black tabby cat. Your fur is a mixture of colors, brown and black as though someone ran out of paint and used what was left on your animal form. You meowed at him once and sat down as him saying 'see'. A second had only passed when you shifted back.

“I am trying. Am I not!?” He scowled.

He began throwing rocks back at you. Some of them land pretty much in your exact area, others missing you by a long shot. But after a while, he became distracted by a passing squirrel. A pebble hit him straight on causing him to topple over onto the grass. Your eyes widened as you rushed over to him.

”Oh dear…quick what is your name?”

“You fool!”

“Okay, what is my name?”

He shoved you away. The shove causes you to fall on your bottom.

”You little bastard!" You exclaimed, before shoving him back twice as hard. He stumbled and fell back into a rose bush.

You two tumbled around before you were pinned by him. His breathing stilling as he watched your own eyes widen.

Your eyes widened in fright at the position you’d landed yourselves in. It felt like both of you were holding your breath as you watched each other’s expression. He’d never been this close to you before, and he found himself studying the way your eyes seemed to glitter in the moonlight.

“Y/n, Guildford, supper is prepared!”

Both your eyes widened at the soft voice of your mother, but by the time you’d both looked around she was nowhere in sight. Guildford looked back down at you, his expression a mixture of nervousness and confusion as he tried to figure out what to do next. His father was expecting him for dinner but he didn’t want to leave you alone here in the forest. He opened his mouth to speak. But for some reason, he just couldn’t find the words.

“I’m…I’m never gonna get this.” He relented, sitting back to allow you up.

You sat up too, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You then looked as he sat down next to you, a look of helplessness on his face.

”…don’t worry.” You told him, noticing how dejected he looked. “We can try again the next day. Night will come again.”

He shook his head. “You repeat it over and over. It’s not working. It hasn’t worked and it will not! It’s an unavailing attempt. It’s no use in getting our hopes up!”

You reached out and lightly hit his arm. “Hey, what sort of defeatist attitude is that? There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, right?” He didn’t answer for a moment before he turned his head away from you. You didn’t notice the blush on his face.

You sigh. You watched him silently for a moment, not wanting to speak and say something that would upset him further. After a moment though you spoke up anyway.

”…you should head inside.” You said quietly. “Your father will have your head if you’re not there soon enough.”

“Let me see you in at least. Your mother will have my head if you’re not there, soon enough.” He offered his arm and you grasped it.

You linked your arm with his and together he slowly began walking you back to your cottage. He tried to ignore the way your hair swayed with each step you took or the way your scent that of the poppies and lilacs in his mother’s garden you worked hard to revive again. But it was a hard task for a young growing boy who’d only just begun to notice these things.

When you reached the entrance, you both halted in your tracks at the sound of a raised voice coming from inside.

“My heavens, look at the lot of you. Filthy!” Your mother scorns you as she reaches forward to pull a leaf out of your hair. “Go…I’ve run you a warm bath already. Then dressed and down for supper.” You let go of Guildford bidding him a bye with a small grin. Then ran up the stairs.

“Guildford…” She eyed then sucked her teeth grabbing hold of his face. “Oh, that girl. Look at you! It will bruise!”

“If it lessens your worries, I got her back!”

”She's supposed to be helping you, not damaging your face.” She shakes her head.

His cheeks burned a deep red in embarrassment as she continued to fret at him. “I’ll be fine…it’s just a bump and a mark.” He mumbled.

She took her hands away, still in a disapproving mood as she crossed her arms. Before a smile cracked at her expression. ”You like her, don’t you?” He looked at her, his expression wide as she began to tease him. ”That’s how it starts. Yes! First, it’s just a bump and a mark, then it’s a broken bone, then you’ll be bedridden!” She then scolded.

"Well then Y/n will join my demise…" He shrunk in on himself.

Your mother laughed at his remark. “I believe she could just be my lord. That girl could be a little nightmare if she tried.” She then ruffled his hair before guiding him towards the stairs. "Go, clean yourself up before the food grows cold."

"I'm not a lord." He called over his shoulder.

"You will be." She chimed shaking her head as she watched him ascend to the second floor.

-

"And when that April with his showers soote-" Guildford had stopped reciting the poem from the book in his hands. His smirk grew as your animal form perched itself on his lap. He reached forward to scratch behind your right ear. "Shall I continue or are you simply here to be a distraction?"

The feline version of you closed its eyes at the sensation of his fingers scratching at the sweet spot behind its ear. You released a little noise that sounded a lot like a purr making it clear that you were enjoying the attention. You then used your front paw to paw at the pages of the book, as if telling him to go on.

"Very well then..." He emits a low chuckle.

Your little furry self settled down in his lap and listened to the dulcet tones of his voice as he continued with the lines.

His reading was like music to your ears. He made the words soar off the page and flutter around the room. You hadn't seen Guildford this calm in ages, not since the death of his mother.

The two of you remain in the library for hours, him continuing to read aloud to the little animal on his lap. But it's not till you release a sneeze that has him stopping, has him anticipating what would come next. He sighs moving the book onto the side table as he sits back. He holds his breath as he sees ripples of black and orange begin to transform your cat-like self. It's not long till you release another sneeze in your human form.

"Bless…" Guildford clears his throat. He keeps his hands and arms on the armsrest.

You get your bearings. Your hair is messy from when you slept on your side in cat form. And of course, you're only in a night dress. You look at Guildford, and he looks back at you.

He attempts to avoid looking at your nightie, but he's only a man, after all.

You palm down your hair, in hopes it doesn't appear untamed.

He watches you do this, his eyes darting over your face and down your body. He knows he should look away, but he can't. Not when you looked like this. It was just like in the forest all those years ago as children, the feeling of nerves and the rapid heartbeat.

"Sleep well?" He reached up caressing some of your locks behind your ear.

You nod your head as if his soft touch has you forgetting how to speak.

He can see the blush on your cheeks and he knows he's the reason why it's there. "You're adorable." He says, almost as if on autopilot.

You roll your eyes as you climb off his lap. "Fool..."

He watches you cross the room before stopping you at the door. Your hand holding onto the handle.

He lets out a sigh, his leg beginning to bounce. “You do know it is very uncouth for you to be wearing that in my presence.”

"It's my nightwear, Guildford. What do you expect me to wear?" You respond, half turning your head to look at him. "Besides, it's not the most inappropriate attire you've worn around me."

His face turns a few shades darker red as his mind drifts to that exact memory. The image of you in his thin white undershirt, with nothing else on…it hadn't been that many years when he convinced you to go with him to a lake. You had shifted into your cat form by accident leaving you rendered embarrassed and well without clothes. He doesn’t want to be having that sort of thought right now. Not when you were standing a little less than an arms-length away from him, in your very night clothes.

"Thought so…" You muse with a chuckle. "Good night Guildford." You bid him goodbye opening the door to make your way out.

He almost lets you walk out. But his mind has other plans. Before he could think better of it he bolts up and pauses at the door. You're only a few feet from the door before his voice catches your attention.

"Where are you going?" He softly chuckles.

"To bed. Some of us sleep before dawn Guildford."

"Care for a stroll through the meadow again…keep me company?" He looked down before he met your bemused gaze again.

"I'll ask Bertie to pack us fresh carrots."

He quirks an eyebrow at your words, but he can see how you consider it. After a moment, you let out a sigh. "I would never miss it." You bid him with that adorable contagious grin and go to your quarters for the evening. "Night, my lord." You were heavy with the emphasis of his title. Guildford let his weight fall against the threshold, knowing he had the morrow to look forward to. 

[shadow13dickpistons]

So, I saw War of the Rohirrim.

And...I really enjoyed it! This is essentially WB trying to keep hold of their theatrical rights to Tolkien's work, and the release is somewhat short and limited, so it's not getting great reviews, but I would honestly seriously recommend it to fans and non-fans alike.

For starters, I am really glad it's not re-treading the same ground we've walked a hundred times before (for better and worse) and telling a story most people aren't going to be familiar with. I'm also thrilled to fuck that it's animated. 1) I am so God blessed sick of green screens and bad CG, and 2), I'm so happy to not see the same 3D animation literally every other major studio does now. I'm not going to claim the animation is breathtaking or revolutionary, it's neither, and at times it's even clunky. But just having something DIFFERENT? Thank you for that. The plot was able to surprise me in places, I never found it too predictable. My friend felt the pacing sometimes dragged, but I never felt it was too much.

I think it's a great movie for girls, too, being empowering without the cheap, saccharine, and condescending "girl power" I despise. The female characters are extremely solid. (If anything, it's the male characters that sometimes grate, but not intolerably). I would hesitate to take anyone under 13, though, because if they're a scardey cat like me, some of the violence might be a little intense. It's never gory, but it is a WAR of the Rohirrim, after all, not a tea party.

I'm also traditionally very difficult to please in terms of canon and lore, and I was totally fine with it. My two complaints are mild and very livable. Firstly, that people are in a snit about Hera potentially being betrothed to someone from Gondor. This is a continuation of the film trilogy idea that Gondor and Rohan are not on good terms, which isn't really true in the books. Intermarriage in the ruling houses is very common. Theoden's mother is a woman of Gondor.

BUUUUT, given this is primarily coming from the malcontent Lord Freca, I think it works, since I think anyone with political unrest could see Eorl the Younger's vow to the Steward as restrictive.

The only other thing that I took slight pause with was characters voicing the idea of Hera's having a shot at the crown. Sure, she may "deserve" it, but women don't inherit in Tolkien. It's never gonna happen.

Hera and Wulf have some great angst for shippers, but I'm preparing for my future crucification by the purity brigade because I IMMEDIATELY shipped Hera and Frealaf.

I really had a great time, and if I had more time on my hands, I would be diving back into Tolkien right now. But I really don't think you'd lose anything if you're not someone whose already memorized the lore. Total recommendation from me and I'm probably going to see it again.

[novankenn]

Ice Cream Social?

A snippet from "a Mafia" AU

Pyrrha Nikos, formerly the Goddess of Death. Once the Invincible One. Was NOT happy, and very uncomfortable. Jaune Arc, the former target of a contact killing that she had only a couple short months ago attempted to cash in on without her mother's knowledge, was dragging her into a "Mom & Pop" Ice-Cream Parlor. The once assassin now "secret" girl-friend was VERY uncomfortable in such social gatherings.

"Jaune can we?" Pyrrha tentatively asked as they prepared to enter the establishment.

"Pyr?" Jaune asked, his voice indicating his confusion at his "bodyguard's" resistance. "Is something wrong?"

"No... maybe... yes?" Pyrrha stuttered out.

"Ah... huh?" Jaune raised an eye brow. He withdrew his hand from the action of pushing open the establishment's main door. "That was... confusing. Is there something wrong, Pyr? You know you can tell me anything right?"

"Anything... su... sure. I... know that." Pyrrha replied, while her in her mind she pictured Jaune's mother and sisters giving her a glare. Pyrrha KNEW she couldn't tell Jaune the reality of the world, that she was part of, and that his family was shielding him from.

"Pyr?"

"It's just... just I feel underdressed... and I've never... gone to one of these before." Pyrrha's voice faded from tentative to barely above a whisper as she answered.

"It's an Ice Cream social, Pyr." Jaune informed her. "It's not a big deal, just a bunch of us spending money on ice-cream to help a local charity."

"But... still..." Pyrrha stammered, a slight embarrassed blush coloring her cheeks. It was a combined reaction, one from not knowing how to be average and normal, along with the fact she was acutely aware of Jaune's hands cupping own.

"Wait here." Jaune smiled, that warm goofy, comforting gesture. Pyrrha's heart skipped several beats every time he used it on her.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha asked suddenly wishing he hadn't released her hands.

Her scroll buzzed in her pocket as Jaune stepped through the door, leaving her alone outside. Pulling it out after loosing sight of Jaune in the crowd gathered in the shop, she opened the messaging application. It was a message from Terra. Jaune's sister-in-law, and a member of the legendary Sisters of Mercy. A fact when revealed caused Pyrrha to seriously question many of her life choices.

"Stop being a fraidy-cat and woman up, Nikos!"

"What? How? Where?" Pyrrha typed out in response.

"Inside. To your left." was the repsonse.

Pyrrha looked up from her scroll and in the direction instructed. There seated at the counter running the length of the massive plate glass windows was Terra Cotta-Arc. Eating a rather large and overly topped sundae. Pyrrha actually was surprised at just how many toppings the dusky skinned woman had piled onto the dish. So many in fact she couldn't even tell what flavor of ice-cream she was eating.

Terra smiled at the former assassin, as she took another heaping spoonful of toppings. Raising her free hand she wiggled her fingers at Pyrrha, before dropping her hand back to the table and typing something out on her scroll.

"You need to woman up there, Goddess. You won't catch Jaune's eye acting like some pre-teen school girl."

"I am not!"

"Yes you are." Terra replied. "You fell for him, not step up and stake your claim before some skank steps in."

"I would never let that happen!"

"There's that fire!" Terra replied, "Now... oh never mind."

"Huh?" Pyrrha responded, until she head the bell chime as the door was opened. Looking up, he blush became instantly nuclear. In a complete replay of their first face to face interaction Jaune was standing before her, a simple, plain ice-cream cone held out to her.

(Commissioned Image by @pilot-boi)

"Ja... Jaune?"

"Here Pyr." Jaune stepped forward holding the slowly starting to melt creamy treat. "I made my donation, and got you a treat. We can go somewhere else, if this make you that uncomfortable."

"I..." Pyrrha hesitated. Her scrolled buzzed, and she took a quick glance. It was another message from Terra.

"Pussy. Take the cone!"

"Pyr?" Jaune questioned, a look of concern, "I thought you liked vanilla? Did I mes..."

"NO!" Pyrrha shouted, startling Jaune. He almost dropped the cone, and if it wasn't for Pyrrha's honed reflexes it would have been lost to the sidewalk. "Thank you."

Jaune's faltering smile returned twenty-fold, making Pyrrha almost swoon, as he lifted the cone with a shaking hand and gave it a lick. Pyrrha actually preferred cookies-n-cream, but each time Jaune got her vanilla... it tasted like heaven.

"Good girl. ;-)" appeared on her scroll. Pyrrha hurriedly stuffed the object into her pocket before reaching out and tentatively taking Jaune's hand.

"Want some?" Pyrrha asked her cheeks glowing a vibrant red, as she held the cone out towards Jaune.

Jaune didn't lick the cone, but instead took a bite off the opposite side that she had been licking. His goofy ice-cream coated grin making Pyrrha's heart fluttered.

"Want to go for a walk in the park?" Jaune asked.

Pyrrha nodded, as she let Jaune take her hand, and when he wasn't looking twisted her cone about and took her own bite off the side of the cone he had. She felt her scroll buzz, and buzz and buzz. Obviously her little action didn't go unnoticed. Pyrrha was dreading what those messages would say once she looked at them. Taking another bite from her cone, she let Jaune lead the way towards thier next destination.

[bluecaitjinx]

Hold Me (Caitlyn Kiramman x Jinx)

note: this is a caitjinx one-shot. don’t like, don’t read.

tags: fluff, 1.5k, mild angst (like barely any), could be modern au, could be canon-divergent, sleep fic

rating: G

“You look tired, darling,” Caitlyn muses lowly, careful to keep her voice quiet in fear of disturbing the peaceful atmosphere of their bedroom.

She isn’t necessarily concerned about her girlfriend. They had a rather uneventful day of doing next to nothing, but these kind of days are some of the best. Lazing around together, getting their fill of snuggling to make up for a long work week, sharing more meals than just dinner - it’s wonderful, and the perfect respite. Especially now, with Jinx lying on her stomach in their king-sized bed, comfortably tucked under the plush comforter, and with Caitlyn sitting against the headboard with a book in hand, relaxation has found the two women well.

Jinx grew up sharing a twin-sized mattress with her older sister. Then, Vi left, and Jinx had no mattress at all.

Caitlyn slept on a king-sized mattress all her life. The only time she hadn’t were the weeks following her mother’s death when she slept in an empty bathtub.

When Jinx and Caitlyn went shopping for a bed in preparation of moving in together, there was no discussion. Only unanimous agreement. They were getting a king-sized bed.

So, no, Caitlyn isn’t concerned. She is, however, familiar with Jinx’s tendency to force herself to stay awake on account of spending more time with Caitlyn, and that Caitlyn takes issue with.

Caitlyn reaches her free hand out to gently comb her fingers through Jinx’s soft, azure hair. Jinx all but purrs at the feeling of Caitlyn’s blunt nails scratching her scalp and lifts her head from the pillow to butt into the touch like a pampered house cat.

Caitlyn smiles fondly down at her girlfriend and closes her book around the thumb she has placed between the pages. Caitlyn is part of a select few who find most everything Jinx does to be charming. The spunky bluette is, to Caitlyn, absolutely adorable. Even when Jinx does something particularly untoward, Caitlyn’s chest pangs with affection. Especially when Jinx’s social faux-pas are followed up by sheepish smiles and half-hearted apologies. Caitlyn knows she sometimes, unintentionally, encourages a bit of rudeness on Jinx’s part by chuckling at or simply reacting to Jinx’s outlandishness, but Caitlyn can’t help it. She adores the younger woman, awkward charm and all.

“You should try to sleep,” Caitlyn suggests, already anticipating Jinx’s protest.

“Don’ wanna,” comes Jinx’s defiant, and rather petulant, reply. If Caitlyn wasn’t able to see the pronounced pout on Jinx’s lips, she certainly would have been able to hear the slight whine in Jinx’s voice.

“You don’t have to force yourself to stay awake, love. We do this song and dance every evening. Sleep. You need it, and I’ll be right here in the morning,” Caitlyn insists with a measured tone as she tries to coax Jinx into an agreement. Or, at least, a compromise.

Jinx’s bottom lip juts out even more as she cracks opens her bleary, violet eyes to glare (non-threateningly) at Caitlyn. It takes everything in Caitlyn not to coo at her girlfriend’s sleepy expression. Specifically, Jinx’s reddened cheek smushed against the pillow, the slight furrow in Jinx’s brow, and, of course, Jinx’s plump lips twisted into a frown.

“But you’re still reading,” Jinx grumbles and moves one of her arms out from where it’s folded under her pillow to tap at the cover of Caitlyn’s paperback with an accusing finger.

Caitlyn glances over at the book in question before shifting her gaze back to her disgruntled girlfriend. She arches a curious eyebrow at the unexpected complaint as an amused snort escapes her nose. “I am. You really aren’t missing out on much. Which is exactly why it’s the perfect opportunity for you to sleep,” Caitlyn emphasizes once again, this time with a gentle tug of Jinx’s hair.

“Unless,” Caitlyn continues after a moment when a thought occurs to her. She purses her lips and resumes the petting of Jinx’s tousled hair. “The light is bothering you.”

Jinx groans, half-muffled by the pillow, in what Caitlyn assumes to be frustration or discontentment, but what is actually mild embarrassment. The younger woman’s freckled cheeks heat up in a way that’s barely noticeable in the low illumination of their bedroom, but Caitlyn still manages to make it out. Caitlyn waits patiently for Jinx to explain the source of her displeasure - if it really is the light, or something more.

“No, the light’s fine, I just…” Jinx trails off with a heavy sigh and turns her head to hide more of her face in the pillow. “… I want you to hold me. While I fall asleep.”

Even though Caitlyn has to strain to hear Jinx’s utterance, her expression instantly softens upon registering Jinx’s shyly spoken confession. With a warm smile that Jinx can’t see from her current position, Caitlyn wordlessly removes her hand from the bluette’s hair to retrieve her bookmark. She replaces her thumb with said bookmark and sets the book down on the nightstand. Caitlyn subsequently switches off the bedside lamp, causing the room to be promptly enveloped by darkness.

Jinx says nothing as Caitlyn slides down on the bed to lie next to her. Jinx also says nothing when Caitlyn turns on her side and wraps an arm around Jinx’s waist to draw the younger woman to her chest. Jinx has a nasty habit of feeling guilty for the littlest of things, which is why Caitlyn isn’t surprised when Jinx shows some reluctance in returning the embrace.

“Hey. None of that,” Caitlyn scolds gently, directing her chastisement at Jinx’s loud thoughts of self-reproach and doubt. She catches a glimpse of Jinx’s contrite expression awkwardly pressed against Caitlyn’s shoulder, and she sighs.

“You act like holding you is such a chore for me. It isn’t. I, believe it or not, love to cuddle my girlfriend,” Caitlyn quips sarcastically, though it lacks any heat. She readjusts her grip on Jinx in an attempt to help the bluette get more comfortable, but Jinx just lays there like a log. Unmoving, stiff, and silent.

“Jinx,” Caitlyn tries again with a more serious approach, her voice kind yet firm. She lifts a hand to run through her girlfriend’s unfairly soft mane of hair again in what she hopes is a soothing gesture. Caitlyn is unable to resist the temptation to press her lips to Jinx’s hairline in a tender kiss.

“I stopped reading because I wanted to. You aren’t burdening me. I’m glad you expressed your desires to me, but ultimately, it was me who decided. I made the choice to lay with you.” She places another kiss to Jinx’s head before concluding with a playful jibe. “Now, will you quit beating yourself up and let me hold you already?”

Caitlyn’s words seem to get through to Jinx because the bluette shifts against Caitlyn’s front and slings an arm around Caitlyn’s middle with a huff. A satisfied smile curves up on Caitlyn’s lips as she pulls Jinx even closer to tangle their legs together. Her hand remains nestled in blue hair, occasionally rubbing her fingertips into Jinx’s scalp to relieve some of Jinx’s tension.

Jinx’s face finds the crook of Caitlyn’s neck, and she noses the junction affectionately. The combination of Caitlyn’s comforting ministrations and the heat of the older woman’s body does well to relax Jinx. And just like that, Jinx’s inner turmoil, as brief as it was, vanishes and leaves no trace.

“There you are,” Caitlyn hums lovingly as she slips her free hand under the hem of Jinx’s sleep shirt to draw mindless shapes on the small of Jinx’s back. The pure adoration Caitlyn has for her girlfriend seeps into her increasingly fond tone. “Finally ready to sleep, my love?”

Jinx, whose eyes have since fluttered shut, nods against Caitlyn’s collarbone. She can already feel the exhaustion in her bones take hold of her conscious mind. One by one, her muscles groups relax and unclench until she’s left completely boneless in Caitlyn’s arms. Jinx is so tired and so utterly content that she doesn’t even mind the feeling of Caitlyn’s cold feet pressing against her calves.

“G’night,” Jinx wills her mouth to form the words, despite them still coming out slurred.

Caitlyn can tell that it’s taking a monumental amount of effort for Jinx to stay awake, and yet the young woman does so to simply bid Caitlyn a “good night.” It’s incredibly sweet.

“Goodnight, darling. Sleep well,” Caitlyn murmurs in a low purr. She’s not entirely sure if Jinx heard her considering the sound of soft snores that immediately fill the air.

With a quiet chuckle, Caitlyn continues to tend to her slumbering girlfriend with loving touches for the next few minutes, only stopping when her own eyes fall shut of their own accord.