#i was terrified for a long time to ask people for help because it felt like admitting that i was what i felt i was

[demigodofhoolemere]

I’ve been seeing this float around on Facebook lately and it’s bugging the crud out of me:

What is with everyone’s obsession with insisting it’s bad to need to be rescued? For as long as the human race has been on the planet, people have had problems that they needed other people’s help to resolve. Needing help is not a failing nor should it be the takeaway from these princesses’ stories as if it’s a bad thing that makes them weak. Yes, they do need help. Your point?

Snow White and Aurora were both under a curse that rendered each of them effectively dead. Were they supposed to magically wake themselves up? I’d want to be rescued if I were them. Plus, breaking it down to “she needed a prince” belittles the efforts of the Seven Dwarfs and the Three Good Fairies, who did most of the legwork in the resolution of their respective movie plots out of deep platonic love for the girls under their care. Then there’s Cinderella, who lived in an abusive household. It’s not a weakness that she wasn’t able to get out of that situation on her own, and once again, giving all the credit to the prince (and credit where credit is due, he did search far and wide for her and was able to take her away from that life in the end) detracts from the aid provided by the Fairy Godmother who enabled her to get out in the first place. All of these ladies had more helpers than just their princes, and it is because of the combined love and efforts of all of these people that our heroines were able to have their happy endings. There are plenty of great stories where the heroine is able to fight for herself, but these particular stories aren’t about that because these ladies are each in terrible circumstances where they simply don’t have the ability to do so. They do what they can, but in the end they can’t save themselves alone and there’s nothing wrong with that. These are beautiful stories about having people in your life that value you enough to fight for you when you can’t fight for yourself. Wouldn’t we all want someone to come to our rescue when there’s nothing we can do about our situation? Is it not a good and comforting moral to show that there are people in your corner who will show up for you no matter what the circumstances?

The other thing that’s bugging me about this:

Leia has to be rescued. By a man, and at that, one who could technically be seen as a prince. No one bats an eye at this, because it’s understood that she’s being held prisoner on the Death Star and couldn’t possibly be expected to get out of that on her own. It’s not seen as a weakness that someone had to come for her and take her away from there. Leia is awesome and is rightfully acknowledged as a great heroine, but she also needs help sometimes, because everybody does.

So WHY do people get so hung up on these princesses who also shouldn’t be expected to get out of their own prison cells of eternal sleep or abusive family by themselves? Why the strong negative reaction to girls needing outside help in such serious scenarios? For all that people say these stories teach girls to sit and wait for a man to save them, the stories themselves absolutely never try to say that, and frankly, with the opposite trend in recent years of fictional women who have to do everything on their own and can’t be shown to need help because they have to be the Strong Female Character, I’d be far more concerned about the impact that would have on girls. Far better to say you might need help at some point in your life than to instill the idea that you’re not a strong girl or not good enough if you can’t do everything by yourself.

Anyway. Justice for the classic Disney princesses.

[storiesforallfandoms]

height advantage ~ jacob elordi

word count: 2857

request?: yes!

“Can you write how a 5’2 photographer was having trouble getting good shots at the Met Gala because people kept pushing in front of her so Jacob Elordi held her hand and helped her get to the front so she could get some good shots and then she gave him her business card to hook up in the future please and thank you”

description: in which the tall actor helps the short photographer to get good shots

pairing: jacob elordi x short!female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Being short as a photographer was a major disadvantage. Sure, sometimes you were able to get to the front of the pack at events, but most times the other photographers were too hungry for the money shots to remember common decency. You were shoved and stood in front of and completely ignored on more than one occasion. Most nights, you were lucky to get some good pictures of the first few people to arrive at the red carpet. You were terrified that your agency was going to can you soon.

You were given the opportunity to photograph the next MET Gala. It would be huge for your career, if you could get any pictures. You were determined not to let anyone shove in front of you tonight. You were going to get good pictures tonight. You were determined.

There was a dull chatter among the photographers as they waited for the event to start. It all went away basically immediately when the first vehicle pulled up. The interviewers got into place as every camera was immediately raised. The dull chatter became yells and camera flashes as the first celebrity stepped onto the carpet. You had been holding onto the barrier to really make sure no one stood in front of you, but now there were enough bodies pressing you against the barrier that you felt confident that you wouldn’t be moved. You got a lot of good snaps as more guests began to arrive. You were feeling almost giddy.

You paused long enough to check a photo you had just taken, but that was enough for a photographer next to you to start elbowing you to get in front of you.

“Hey, watch it!” you snapped.

“You snooze, you lose, kid,” he said before stepping on front of you.

You tried to step around him, but the space around him was quickly filled in. You sighed and got onto the tips of your toes, raising you camera over your head and hoping the shots you were getting were good ones.

Someone hit your arm and snapped, “Move, you’re blocking my shot!”

You almost dropped your camera and turned to curse out the person who hit you proved to be a mistake when you were just shoved further. You started to panic. You couldn’t see the red carpet anymore, so you certainly weren’t going to get any good pictures. Your boss was going to kill you if you came back with a small handful of pictures again.

“Hey! Is she okay there?”

An accented voice cut through the commotion around you. You tried to get a look at what was going on, but your efforts were for naught. You were starting to wonder if you should just leave and take whatever verbal lashing you were going to get from your boss.

Until the sea of photographers suddenly parted and a towering figure was looking down at you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You were so taken by him that you couldn’t form a single sentence. He was so handsome, and so goddamn tall. Not just tall by your standards; everyone normally towered over you, but he towered over everyone. And he was looking - talking - directly at you. The photographers around you weren’t sure if they should be taking pictures or not, so they just kept looking between the two of you in shock.

You remembered he had asked you a question and finally managed to snap out of your trance. “Oh, you, I’m okay. Just being shoved around a bit. That’s par for the course with this profession.”

He extended a hand to you. You took it and gasped when he pulled you forward towards the barrier again. To those around you he said, “She stands here and she stays here. I get that you all have a job to do, but there’s no reason you need to trample one of your own for a good stop. Especially when she’s the smallest one among you all. No offense.”

You shook your head, once again unable to speak.

He smiled and winked at you before stepping back. “Here, get a shot of my good side.”

It took you a moment to remember what you were even supposed to be doing, and quickly fumbled with your camera to start taking pictures again.

Your fellow photographers were quick to move on from the encounter when a new celebrity arrived to the red carpet, but your gaze lingered on him as he started to walk away. You were almost embarrassed to say you had no idea who he was. He was obviously someone famous, but you didn’t recognize him. Either way, he was your savior tonight and you didn’t get the chance to thank him for helping you.

The rest of the night passed quickly after that. No one else shoved or trampled you, so you managed to get a lot of good photos. Once the last celebrity had arrived and entered the building, the reporters and photographers began to disperse. Some went into the building to photograph the events of the night, but you weren’t one of those so you were able to get ready to leave. You started texting your boss to let her know you’d scan the pictures onto your laptop when you got home and send them along right away when you heard someone behind you say, “Hey, was everything alright after?”

You turned to see the tall guy from earlier coming up to you.

“Oh...hi,” you said. “Yes, everything was fine. Thank you for your help there, by the way. I thought for sure I was going to be leaving another event with more pictures of the back of people’s heads than the actual event.”

“Does that happen often?”

“I mean...look at me.” You gestured to your small stature.

He chuckled. “Okay, point taken.”

“My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

“Jacob.”

You shook his hand. “Shouldn’t you be inside, by the way? The event is just starting.”

“I stepped out for some air. I come to these things for the charity aspect, but they’re not really my thing. I plan to eat and slip out immediately afterwards.”

Before I could respond, my Uber pulled up.

“I won’t keep you from getting home,” Jacob said. “I saw you out here and just wanted to check in.”

“I appreciate it, and I appreciate you helping me out back there.”

“Hey, I had to use my height advantage for good eventually. In this case, it helped me to spot a cute photographer before she was turned into a pancake.”

You felt your face heating up at his compliment. Suddenly you were tongue tied again and didn’t have enough time to try and figure out a response because your Uber driver was impatiently waiting for you.

You suddenly remembered the business cards you kept with you in case you ever got to talking with event organizers or celebrities looking for photographers for their photoshoots (or agencies with better pay and benefits, but you’d never say that out lout). You dug one out of your purse and passed it to Jacob. “In case you ever need a cute photographer for a shoot. Or...I don’t know, if you just want to talk.”

He looked down at your business card before smiling at you. “Is this your personal number or a business one?”

“Personal. It’s easier to reach me on my cell than to try and call my workplace.”

“I’ll remember that, then.”

You nodded and finally managed to break yourself from his trance. Your Uber driver was glaring at you through the rearview mirror as you climbed into his car, but you could’ve cared less. You glanced out the window as the car began to pull away. Jacob was still looking down at your business card, a light smile on his lips. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself in return. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long before you heard from Jacob again.

~~~~~~

The next day you were at your desk, going over some of the pictures from the night before to submit to your boss. You had managed to scan the photos onto your laptop when you got home the night before, but it was so late that your boss told you to wait until this morning to submit them. Most publications had their pictures from the Gala posted immediately after they were taken, so your boss said she wasn’t in any rush to have them.

“It gives you more time to pick out the good ones to be submitted,” she had told you.

Your phone vibrated, pulling your attention away from work for just a split second. You looked down to see an unknown number was trying to text me.

“looking for a cute photographer. know anyone who fits the bill? :) - j”

I smiled to myself.

“i may have some ideas. depends on what you’re looking for.”

The response came almost immediately.

“looking for someone to join me for coffee. say in about 15 minutes?”

The urge to shut down your computer and immediately run to meet Jacob was strong. But you knew you had work to do first, even though you would much rather be sitting across from him at some coffee shop than in your cubicle.

“finishing an assignment for work and then i’ll be free for my break. just text me a place and i’ll meet you there :)”

Within 20 minutes, you were approaching the place Jacob had told you to meet him. You didn’t have to look for him as he was stood waiting for you, his tall stature basically sticking out like a sore thumb. You didn’t think you had ever met anyone as tall as him before. It was almost intimidating, if he wasn’t so hot.

He looked up as you approached and smiled. “Hey!”

You were shocked when he pulled you in for a hug, but graciously took the display of affection.

“How was the rest of your night?” you asked as you both stepped into the shop and got into line.

“It was alright. Did as I said and slipped out after eating, but not before hearing a couple of the speeches they do talking about the event’s history and why they choose the yearly trends and stuff.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m lucky I didn’t die of boredom.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“If you really think that, I’ll take you to the next one I get invited to and you can sit through all the speeches. Then you can tell me if it’s not that bad.”

You tried not to dwell on the fact that he was already talking about taking you to an event with him. You knew that it was way too quickly to be thinking about stuff like that - this was literally the second time you had met him and the first time you were actually spending any amount of time together - but there was something about the fact that he was already planning ahead like that that gave you some hope for where this was going.

After ordering your coffees and stepping aside to wait for them, Jacob asked, “How was your night? Surely it was much better than mine.”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far. I got home, put on my pajamas, and watched some trashy Netflix reality until I fell asleep.”

“At least trashy reality has some excitement.”

“A lot more than listening to speeches about the history of the MET Gala.”

“I could’ve looked up a Wikipedia article and read the whole thing from start to finish and it would’ve been more exciting than listening to that.”

You giggled. The barista gave you your coffees and you moved to a table by the window to sit down.

“How long do I have you for?” Jacob asked.

“Our breaks can last anywhere between 30 minutes to an hour. Usually if it’s 30 minutes, you get another 30 minute break later on. If it’s the full hour, I only get this one break today.”

“Well, I’ll try not to be stingy with your time, but I think I’m going to have some difficulty in letting you leave.”

“I gotta say, you are quite the flirt.”

“Only when I really like someone.”

We spent most of the time getting to know one another. You admitted that you hadn’t heard of Jacob before, so he told you about some of the movies and shows he had done. You had only heard of Euphoria, but had never watched it nor did you have any desire to. Jacob told you he wouldn’t hold it against you that you hadn’t seen any of his work. You told him about going to college for photography fresh out of high school because you knew that was the one thing you wanted to do more than anything. You were lucky enough that the company you did your work term with wanted to take you in full time after you graduated, and you were still there years later.

“You mentioned that stuff like what happened to you last night is a normal occurrence?” he asked.

You sighed. “Yeah. I mean, in general it is par for the course that photographers at such events can be a little ruthless. We all want the good shots that can and will be used, that’s how we make our money. But it’s especially hard for me because I am a short woman. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of female photographers who get taken just as seriously as the male ones, but there are also plenty of male photographers who aren’t afraid to shove a woman out of their way to get their shot instead of another man. Throw in the fact that I’m usually the shortest one in attendance and I become an easy target. Get me out of the way, get in my space, and then that’s it for me.”

“That’s awful,” Jacob said. “You’d think being shorter than they are would make it easier for them to just shoot around you instead of moving you out of the way.”

“You would think, but that’s not the case.” You shrugged. “It’s nothing new for me. I was always the shortest person in the room, and thus was treated one way or another because of it. It’s just now I’m worried that if I can’t do my job properly I’ll be fired.”

“They can’t fire you for being short.”

“They can if I’m not getting any pictures when I’m sent to red carpet events. Most of the time I only get the first one or two people to arrive and that’s it. My boss is mostly understanding about it, but I know realistically she can’t keep me if I’m not able to do my job. Or at least she won’t send me out to events anymore, which would be just as bad as getting fired honestly. I don’t want to just sit behind a desk all day using photoshop to fix up pictures before they’re published.”

The mention of your job had you glancing down at your watch and realizing how much time had passed. “Shit! I gotta be back to work in 10 minutes.”

“Already?” Jacob had a crestfallen look on his face.

“I know. I would much rather stay with you. I’m enjoying our conversation.”

Jacob stood as you did. “Let me walk you back to work at least. We can prolong the goodbyes that way.”

You accepted and you both headed towards your job. The walk was silent at first. You were trying to find something to ask him so that the time wasn’t wasted in silence, but nothing was coming to your head right now.

Luckily, Jacob broke the silence by asking, “When do you usually get off work?”

“Around 5,” you responded.

“Maybe we could pick this up when you’re off then. If you feel up for it, that is. I get it if you’d rather do nothing after working all day.”

“Well...normally I do prefer to spend my evenings by myself after work. But, if this isn’t too forward to ask, maybe you could come over and we could keep getting to know each other.”

His face lit up. “I’d like that a lot.”

He took you by surprise once more as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. If you weren’t already so enamored by this man, you probably would’ve been thinking about how funny the two of you looked together - the under 5′ photographer and the over 6′ actor. But all I could think about was how Jacob wanted to see me again so soon, and how much I did want to see him too. It was hard to break away and go back to work, but I knew I’d get in trouble if I showed up late from my break.

The only thing that kept me going was the smile on Jacob’s face as I turned back around to look at him, and the thought that it wouldn’t be too much longer until I got to see him again.

[6esiree]

𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮—𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐖𝐡𝐲?

Alastor is just unbearable throughout the entire month of October—a true menace, I daresay. Charlie can’t tell him much because, according to him, “It’s merely tradition to instill fear in the hearts of others during the spooky season.” However, she can kindly ask him to tone down his pranks after receiving various complaints from most of the residents, save for Niffty and…

You.

Charlie finds it strange that you haven’t reached out to her for help, especially after witnessing you bear the brunt of Alastor’s pranks. He doesn’t creep up on you with a simple ‘Boo!’ like the other residents—no, he terrorizes you, and he absolutely basks in the horrified screams he elicits from you, the sound of his gratified laughter resonating throughout the Hazbin Hotel.

While Alastor terrorizes you, he isn’t outright cruel to you… even though the fact that he’s targeting you at all is cruel in itself. He likes you, he just doesn’t know it, so after he’s received the reaction he’s come to unconsciously desire—your heart-rate picking up, your eyes glazing over with unshed tears, and your plush lips parting with a delicious cry that almost makes him sigh—

He comforts you.

“Oh, you poor, hapless soul,” Alastor lets out a static-like chuckle as he bends down and cups your face, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips at the sound of your breath audibly hitching. “But I just can’t help but mention that you would have made the perfect—and I mean perfect—victim while I was alive.”

You always assumed that Alastor despised you, but the first time he comforted you after you broke down over a particularly frightening prank, you began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there’s something else motivating him… especially with the way his hands squeezes your cheeks before—slowly and gingerly—wiping away the tears pricking at your eyes as he stares down at you with an unreadable expression.

Anybody else would have felt patronized over such an act, but you can’t help but secretly enjoy the feeling of such a terrifying overlord looming over you in a rare display of tenderness, cradling you in his hands as if you were his most prized possession. And as he closes the gap between you and kisses your brow, the warmth of your skin transferring to his cold lips, you assume that’s what you are to him.

His prized possession…

…to instill fear within?

But only because he doesn’t know that he can elicit a similar response from you romantically or even… carnally. Still, Alastor has never dealt in such “needless” affairs, and it’s obvious in the way he moves down your face at a leisure pace, your body tensing up as his lips inch closer, and closer, and closer… until they’re hovering right above your trembling ones.

I say obvious because he doesn’t kiss you—the thought doesn’t even cross his mind. Kissing is reserved for lovers, and you’re not his lover. That doesn’t mean that he’s not entirely unaffected by the sensation of your hot breath mingling with his, his own heart-rate picking up; but of course, Alastor believes it’s just the adrenaline from yet another successful prank.

“Um, I’m glad that I was born a century later, then,” You tell him, a shiver wracking your spine as your lips practically move against his, cold but so, so soft… clearly untouched by others. “And honestly,” You shakily continue, trying to not give into the urge to peck him. “I’d much prefer getting scared than being a part of the long list of people you’ve killed and… perhaps even eaten.”

Another static-like chuckle graces your ears before he pulls away from you, your shoulders slumping in disappointment—but he assumes that you’re simply relieved. At least he gently boops your nose with a singular claw in a teasing manner, his eyes squinting in amusement as your face flares up. If there’s one thing Alastor’s certain about, it’s that he’ll never grow tired of (you)r reactions, gratification stirring in his core.

“Right you are, my dear,” Alastor hums, that transatlantic accent you’ve come to enjoy doing wonders to you. “Now, I think it’s time we head to bed,” He says as he stands up at his full height, offering a slender arm to you, “Here, take my arm—that is if you’d like me to walk you to your room, of course!”

And you do, wordlessly accepting his gesture by hooking your arm in his, a steady tune seeping past the same lips you almost kissed as you start down the hallway. The two of you are completely oblivious to the fact that Charlie watched the entire exchange from around the corner, whatever confusion she previously felt completely overtaken by a sort of understanding at why Alastor specifically targeted you… including your unwillingness to ask for help.

[nerdy-novelist017]

Perfect (Benny Cross x Shy! Reader pt 7)

The chapter we've all been waiting forrrr! 🤗 I won't lie to you, I'm slightly terrified to post this chapter, but you all are so kind. I hope this is everything you wanted it to be! 🫶

Benny X Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.8k (woah, got a little carried away)

Summary- You've lived your whole life according to what everyone else wanted you to be. Tonight would be the first night of your new life -- one where you decided who you were.

******

You took a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments in an attempt to calm your quickened pulse. You had spent the whole rest of the day yesterday thinking about nothing but your future. What was set in stone and what was up to you. You knew what you didn’t want, that much was clear to you now. But could it be possible to have what you wanted when you weren’t even sure if that was what you were?

By the time you had dressed and made your way downstairs for breakfast, you felt as though you were being torn in two. One side was what your head told you to do, the more sensical side. And the other was what your heart wanted to do, the more exciting side. You entered the kitchen where your mother stood at the stove, her hair still in rollers and an apron tied around her waist as she prepared breakfast. 

“Morning, Mama,” you greeted quietly as you approached her to help. Cooking breakfast was your usual routine with your mother, a time spent with secretive giggles and never-ending stories. It was a time where the two of you would be uninterrupted, consumed by only each other in your own world. A place where you would complain to her about your boy troubles at school or how the popular girls were mean to you that day. And as you grew older, and things like high school drama no longer seemed to matter, it became a place where you could talk to her about her life. Where she would tell you how to be mindful of the world around you as she taught you to make poached eggs. A place where she had mentioned numerous times how happy she was because of her family, because of you.  A safe place – home. 

“Morning, honey,” she replied as she shot you her usual cheerful smile. “Coffee’s on the table.”

You thanked her as you poured yourself a cup. You put your apron on and began to help with the homemade pancake batter. You were so lost in the endless sea of thoughts that when your mother mentioned a familiar name, you nearly spilled the bowl of batter. 

“What?” you asked as you looked over at her. 

“I said Pete came by, asking for you,” she repeated as she did a double take at your crestfallen expression. 

“He did?” you inquired in a small voice. “Did he . . . say anything?”

“He asked if he could speak with you. He seemed real insistent,” she laughed. “I had to tell him you were in the shower to finally get him to leave.”

At your silence, she continued hesitantly, “How did your date go?”

You sighed, “It was . . . okay.”

“He seems like a real nice guy.” 

You nodded weakly, feeling oddly reluctant to tell her what had happened at the golf course, the anger in his eyes, the sudden volume in his voice as he slammed his hands against the car.

She lowered the spatula she was using to stir the scrambled eggs, and she turned to face you fully. “Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” 

You nodded again but when you glanced up at her, you could see the disbelief in her eyes. You could fool a lot of people, but your mother was never one of them. 

“What’s going on?” she prodded in that controlled mix of gentle firmness that only mothers can conjure. You were silent for several long beats, unsure of how to vocalize your feelings. 

“I don’t think I want to go out with Pete anymore, Mama,” You admitted softly and being able to speak those words aloud for the first time felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted off your shoulders so you go on, “I don’t like the way he treats me compared to others. I can’t see myself being married to him.”

She fell quiet for a few agonizing moments, and you worry that you might have said too much. You avoided her gaze, looking down at the raw batter in front of you as you tried to figure out how you can fix what you’ve just said. 

But then, “Is there someone else you met?”

You looked back at her face, your heart sinking at the sight of her serious, unreadable expression and your mouth suddenly felt too dry to speak. You only nodded. 

She looked down at her pan of eggs for a moment. “Was it that blonde boy? The one with the motorcycle?”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “How–?”

“I saw him drop you off last night,” she explained. “I was reading in my bedroom when I heard the engine pull up. And when I looked out the window, I saw the two of you standing there.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the realization that Benny was not a secret of yours anymore. He was living in your reality now, a figure to receive the scutanty of your parents, of your neighbors, of your family. The thought left a pit to form in your gut. 

“Your father will never approve of that, (Y/N),” she said, firmly shooting down your outlandish hopes. “You know that.”

“I know. I just . . . ” you trail off with a sigh as you sink into one of the chairs at the small breakfast table in the kitchen. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before, Mama. He’s fun and exciting. He just seems to understand me so perfectly. And the way he talks to me, the way he makes me feel about myself . . .”

Your mother abandoned her position at the stove to sit in the chair beside you. “That isn’t a practical choice, honey. It’s not going to guarantee you any stability for your future. I want you to have a good life, to live in a good house with a husband that has a good job. He isn’t that and who knows if he will ever be able to provide you with those things.”

You swallowed the painful lump forming in the back of your throat as you looked down at your lap, knowing that she’s right. 

Her hand slid across the table to grab yours tightly. “But I also saw the look on his face as he watched you walk up to the house. That look of pure devotion and love.” There were tears shining in her eyes as she struggled to speak. “And I realized I have never seen your father look at me the way that boy looked at you.” 

Your heart shattered at her admission, and you squeezed her hand tightly, stunned into silence. 

“All I want in life is for you to be happy. That’s all I want. Every time I see a shooting star or blow out the candles on my birthday cake, I make a wish for you to live a happy life.” She swallowed thickly as her eyes fluttered over your features. “I understand that your happiness might not look the same as mine, and that’s okay. Your father won’t approve of this, and you know how he gets. But I will always support you – always.”

“Oh, Mama,” your voice cracked as you stood quickly to wrap your mother in a tight hug. 

As you stood in the embrace of your mother’s arms, you realized it had been a long time since you had been consoled like this by her. And in this moment, you felt like a little girl again, still in need of your mother’s infinitely understanding advice and kind hugs. Muffled by her sweater, you whispered, “You make me happy, Mama.” 

“You make me happy too, my girl,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She pulled back eventually, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you to choose the thing that will bring you happiness.”

You nodded and she reached out to wipe the tears that had fallen down your cheeks as she said, “Now, help me finish breakfast before those eggs start to burn.”

“Yes, Mama,” you laughed, sniffing as you watched her move back to the stove, noticing the undeniable actions of her swiping at her own tears as she did. 

And now you stand, at the threshold of someplace you’d never expected to be, you’re nervous, but sure of yourself. Thunder rolled through the sky as a storm brewed in the distance, and you almost laughed at the realization that you had successfully outran the storm, a strangely comforting irony. Releasing your breath, you push open the door before you could give it another thought. 

The inside of the Vandals clubhouse is bustling with people, more than you had ever seen in one small place. Cigarette smoke filtered through the air, covering the environment in a haze. Loud voices, glass clinking, cue balls clacking against the pool tables all mix together with the music playing from the jukebox in the back. Overwhelmed, you stand in the doorway for a moment, eyes scanning through the sea of bodies covered in the infamous Vandals colors. After a moment of hesitation and a brief thought of turning around and going back out the door you came in, you pushed on, sliding into the room like a boat into a river. Weaving your way through the packed bar, you passed a few tables where someone bumped into you as they stood from their seat. You apologized and tried to move by, but the unfamiliar man reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“Where are you off to, pretty little thing?” he asked, his voice slurring as he tried to grin at you but he must have been seeing double because his eyesight was staring at the spot over your right shoulder. Before you could respond, someone else from the table spoke up, his voice barely heard over the noise of the bar.

“Hey, I know you,” he said, his dark slicked back hair and clean shaven face familiar, but you couldn’t place his name. “You’re Benny’s girl.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his words and you shrunk into yourself a bit, losing a bit of your already wavering confidence.

“It’s Wahoo,” he clarified as he too stood from his seat, moving to grab his drunk friend and pull him away from you. “Don’t let him bother you, he didn’t know who you were, was all.”

You nodded, grateful for his help. “Is Benny here?”

“Yeah, ’was over by the pool table in the back last I saw,” Wahoo responded as he pointed in the general direction. 

You tried to steady your pounding heart as you made your way to the back of the bar. Brushing into a temporarily clear path, that’s when your eyes found his tall, lean figure, that dirty blonde hair and wicked grin. Your steps faltered a bit. He hadn’t seen you yet, you could still turn around and go back to your ordinary life. But that wasn’t what you wanted anymore. You were scared, but you were here anyway. You approached the table where you saw other faces you recognized (Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Zipco and a few others whose names you hadn’t committed to memory yet) but none of them were your primary focus. 

Gail was the first to notice you nearing, and she elbowed her husband to get his attention as she said something you couldn’t quite detect in the loudness of the bar. But her commotion with Brucie garnered Johnny’s interest as he two turned to look at you, a smile breaking out across his face. Benny turned from his sidestance, his eyes scanning over the crowd in an attempt to see what was so important to distract the players while the game continued. His eyes roved over your face for a fleeting second, continuing on before jumping back to you in a flustered doubletake. 

Then suddenly, you were on the other end of the pool table, directly across from Benny who looked at you as though you were an apparition. You leaned your hands to rest against the pool table, trying to look more confident than you were as you felt the eyes of every person near the pool table on you. 

“Bunny?” Benny asked, almost speechless as he handed his pool stick off to Zipco. He rounded the table to be closer to you as he continued. “What–what are you doin’ here?” 

“I came to speak with you,” you respond, eyes glancing at the others around the table before landing on him again. “To ask you something.”

He got the hint loud and clear. “C’mon,” he said as he grabbed your hand in his own and pulled you through the room to the backdoor where he pushed it open and motioned for you to go first. 

It had already begun to rain lightly, tiny droplets hitting the concrete with a gentle pitter patter. The coolness of the outside air surrounded you in a pleasant way compared to the atmosphere inside. There were a few bikers out back smoking and talking, but Benny didn’t seem to mind their presence as he led you down the way, keeping under the dry safety of the overhang. 

“Is it always that busy?” you ask when you both stopped. With your back against the brick wall and Benny standing just in front of you, the overhang didn’t offer much room from the rain. But that didn’t seem to bother him either as his eyes were locked onto you despite the roof runoff hitting his jacket. 

“No.” He shook his head. “There was a convention in town today and most of those guys in there are from Columbus. I’m sure that’s pretty overwhelming for you.” 

Your heart fluttered at his gentle squeeze of your hand and you were acutely aware that he hadn’t let you go since pulling you along out here. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“Did you walk here?” he asked, and thunder rumbled somewhere behind him.

“No, I rode my bicycle,” you replied. “Bike, I should say, makes me sound cool like you guys.”

“You’re way cooler than me, Bunny,” he said, his voice low as he wore a lopsided smile.

You couldn’t help but mirror his expression as you looked up at him, realizing just how close the two of you were. The scent of his cologne tickled your nose in a way that sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. It was almost unfair, you realized, that he was so effortlessly attractive – he looked good, he sounded good, he smelled good – and you don’t think he even knew the effect he had on you. And he had the audacity to look at you like you were the gem. 

“What?” he asked after your beat of silence, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“Nothing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you blurted out the question that had been burning inside you the entire ride here. “Do you want to go to California with me?”

“Right now?” 

“No.” You tried to cover your giggle. “I mean, some day. I do want to go. Remember when we talked about it?”

“I remember.”

Benny’s unwavering gaze caused your heart rate to speed up but you trudged on, “I’ve always thought it wasn’t a practical dream, that somehow it couldn’t be me who walked down the beach because I'd been too busy with school and then school became work and work would become marriage and keeping house.” Your carefully rehearsed speech began to fragment as you spilled your jumbled thoughts. “But I realized that is so silly because it’s my life, and I–I can do whatever I want with whoever I want. And I want to go to California to see the Pacific Ocean, and I was wondering if you’d want to go with me.  So . . . what do you say?”

He stepped closer to you, his face just inches from yours, his voice incredibly gentle as he said, “I think I'd go just about anywhere you asked me to, Bunny. But are you sure it’s me who you’re wantin’ here?”

Your brow furrowed slightly at his response. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’m not the kind of guy girls like you fall for. I’m the exact opposite.” His free hand reached out and brushed a tendril of your hair behind your ear as his voice dropped an octave. “But when I'm with you . . . I feel like I could do better. Like maybe I could be better. Not perfect, but something closer to worthy.”

“I’ve been perfect my whole life. Perfect grades, perfect smile, a perfectly quiet doll on the shelf.” You look at the biker standing before you. The exact opposite of what you’ve been surrounded by your entire life. The exact person you’ve been told to stay away from. But there were things that you noticed about him now that you hadn’t when you first saw him at the picnic. Those hands, calloused and scarred from years of fighting, were holding your own gently as if you were made of glass. That mouth, capable of verbally hurting just about anyone who got in his way, only ever spoke softly to you. Those eyes which have undoubtedly seen their fair share of the worst of humanity, gaze at you as if you were the moon. This man, the excitement you feel you’ve been unknowingly waiting for your whole life. You stepped closer to him, your noses brushing together softly as you whispered, “I don’t think I want perfect anymore.”

“What do you want, Bunny?” he asked, an unmistakable vulnerability in his raw voice. 

Your answer to him in nonverbal as you closed the gap between you, lips pressing against his softly. The world seemed to pause as you gently kissed Benny, your heart pounding in your chest. The kiss was soft at first, tentative as you both seemed to test the waters of something new and uncharted. Overcome by your overthinking, you began to draw back, but Benny��s palm cupped the side of your face, pulling you back to him with a more meaningful kiss. His lips were warm and rough, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand held yours early as he deepened the kiss with a sense of urgency that sent a wave of heat to fill your core. His hand moved to protect the back of your head as he backed you up to the cool brick of the wall behind you. 

Benny’s mind was racing with a whirlwind of emotions he wasn’t used to feeling. He had been careful, so careful, to keep his distance, to remind himself that a girl like you would never be with a man like him. He had hoped, prayed, that you might return even an ounce of his feelings for you, but he had to be realistic. You were a beautiful dream, so far out of his reach. But now with your lips on his, your fragile hands clutching the fabric of his jacket, he couldn’t deny the truth any longer. You were breaking down every wall he had built, showing him that just maybe, he was worth more than he believed. 

He had never kissed anyone like this before – with a mix of tenderness and passion that made his heart ache in a way that both terrified and galvanized him. He moved his hand down your side, gripping your hip tightly. He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want this moment to end. Because in this kiss, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time: hope.

He’d spent so long believing he wasn’t good enough– that his life was too rough, too messy for someone like you. But in this moment, as your breath mingled with his own and your heartbeat racing against his chest, he started to believe, even just a little, that he could be the man you saw in him. That he could be worthy of this, of you. 

Your lips parted slightly, and Benny took the invitation, kissing you with a newfound fervor, pouring all his sentiments into it – the longing, the fear, the hope. The connection between you felt electric, and for the first time in a long time, Benny didn’t feel lost. He felt found. Found by you, found by this moment. 

This is real, he thought almost in disbelief, She chose me. He could hardly comprehend it, but the evidence was right there in the way that you kissed him back with equal intensity, the way you clung to him as if he was the only thing grounding you. His lungs burned and he had to pull back, but he kept his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your cheek. I don’t deserve her, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, but for the first time, another voice – a stronger one– countered, Maybe I could someday. 

He opened his eyes, seeing the softness in your gaze, the way your parted lips were slightly swollen from the kiss. It hit him then, like a bolt of lightning. He wanted to be better, not just for himself, but for you. Because you deserved more than just a rough-edged biker, you deserved the world. And if you’d let him, Benny was determined to give it to you. 

“Was–was that okay?” you asked breathlessly, unsure if you’d done it right, but hoping he had felt what you couldn’t put into words. 

His eyes softened even more as a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It was more than okay, Bunny.”

Your smile grew, a little more confident now, despite the heat tinging your cheeks. Suddenly the backdoor squeaked open and Brucie poked his head out the doorway. 

“Benny, you’re up to shoot, kid,” he said and must have seen the closeness of your bodies, the way Benny still held onto your waist because he smirked smugly. 

Benny didn’t even glance over. “Tell ‘em to hold my spot.”

“Pool?” you asked, tugging on his jacket lightly as Brucie disappeared back inside. 

Benny nodded, grinning lazily down at you. “Yeah, you ever played?”

You shook your head, feeling a little shy. “No, never. But . . . I’d like to try.”

He raised his eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You want me to teach you?”

You nodded, this time with more certainty. “I think I’d like that.”

He took your hand, leading you back inside as the rain continued to pour around you. As he lead you back into the bar, the noise and constant chatter engulfing you once again, you felt reassured by the steady warmth of his hand in yours. And he didn't let go of your hand even when you got to the table. A few members cheered and teased Benny, but he only smiled and shook his head, his focus on you, instead. He stood behind you, positioning you gently. 

“Here’s the thing,” he murmured, his voice low and just for you. “You don’t have to know everything right away. Sometimes it’s about the journey, not just the win.”

You looked over your shoulder with a small smile, your faces only inches apart. “I think I’m ready for the journey.”

Benny’s gaze gentled. “So am I, Bunny. So am I.”

-Tag List-

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[barcaatthemoon]

flatmates || alexia putellas x teen!reader ||

you get placed to live with alexia while you play abroad at barcelona.

"nena, wake up!" alexia yelled as she flicked the light on and off in your room. living with alexia putellas had sounded like a dream come true. you were playing at the club of your dreams with the best players in the world. everything should have been perfect, and for the most part it was, but you had no idea that living with alexia would prove to be so difficult.

it was a lot for a sixteen year old. you knew that you'd be better off in the end, but that didn't make it any easier in the moment. you hated the early wake ups, extra workouts and practice, and the extra schoolwork. alexia wanted you to be the best in absolutely everything, and that included the education she doubted that you'd need in the long run.

you drew a lot of comparisons to alexia on the field. off the field was a different story, but alexia pretended not to notice that part. some people thought you were a pet project for alexia, but she thought of you as so much more than that. she had told you before that you were like the little sister she always wanted, but you were almost certain it was mostly to piss off alba.

"five more minutes. better yet, another hour and i'll have patri pick me up," you tried. it was futile, however, because alexia wanted to personally see to it that you got a nutritious breakfast. she was really only looking out for you, but it got a little annoying for you when all you wanted was more sleep.

"you can take a nap after training." to alexia, that was the perfect compromise. you grumbled on and on about it for most of the morning, but you got up anyway. alexia helped you with breakfast, like she tried to with all of the meals that you cooked in the house. "that looks good. where did you see this one?"

"tiktok," you answered as you portioned out the food. "when will olga be back?"

"in two days, why?" alexia asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you liked olga, but the two of you weren't exactly close. in fact, most of the time, you didn't really interact with olga around the house.

"because she doesn't let you wake me up before 6," you said as you glanced at the clock on the oven. alexia winced as she looked over to see how early it really was. "i could have had two more hours."

"lo siento nena, but think of all the things we can do with our extra time."

…

you were on an unbelievable run. this whole game had been one of your best. it felt like nothing in the world could have stopped you. two goals down, and you were going for your third whenever the challenge came in. immediately, you were tripped up and sent flying on the pitch. everyone around you immediately looked over at your body, which was unmoving as you laid out on the pitch.

everything hurt from the impact, but fortunately, your knee didn't seem to be a particularly problematic area. the idea of tearing your acl so young absolutely terrified you. you didn't think anything was wrong until you tried to push yourself up only to fall as your wrist completely gave out.

"stay still. try to take a couple deep breaths for me," alexia said softly as she knelt next to you. she was rubbing your back like she did on the few nights you crawled into her bed looking for comfort. sometimes alexia forgot that you were a kid, something that olga had to frequently remind her of. you weren't a baby, but you definitely were not an adult yet.

"my wrist hurts," you whined. alexia took one look at it and winced. "don't do that! don't wince like that!"

"lo siento nena," alexia apologized. she stayed with you even after the trainers took you off, making the coaches make two substitutions. your wrist was stabilized and you were rushed off to the hospital for x-rays and a cast. it was definitely broken, and a part of you wondered if you'd be sent back to your home country to live with your family. surely alexia wouldn't want you to stay if you weren't really playing for the team.

…

"alexia, don't you dare go wake up that girl!" olga hissed as she placed herself in front of your bedroom door.

"but she has to come to the game." olga almost couldn't believe her ears. alexia could be stubborn and demanding at times, but olga had never heard her whine like that before. it was almost laughable, but olga wanted you to get every bit of rest that you could. alexia had given you a couple of days to rest and just do your schoolwork at your own pace, but she wanted you to come back to practice and games with her again. "she missed the last one and we didn't win."

"i'll take her to the game myself if she wants to go. just go on your run already so you can get ready for the game," olga instructed. alexia pouted as she moved past your bedroom door. olga knew better than to just go back to sleep, instead waiting until alexia had been gone for five minutes. unbeknownst to her, you had woken up on your own and heard all of it from inside your room.

you smiled to yourself as you left your bedroom. alexia had started some coffee for herself before she left which you happily took and sipped as you sat on the couch. you couldn't play, but alexia had nabbed your game kit from the locker rooms a couple days ago at practice in case you wanted to wear it to the game anyway. it was sitting out on the coffee table neatly folded with a little note on it.

"oh, you're awake! you can shower while i eat if you want. i just have to get ready and then we can leave," alexia said as she moved past you towards the kitchen. she grabbed a couple of pre-made things for her breakfast and sat down, immediately taking a sip of the coffee. "ugh, disgusting. why drink my coffee if you're going to change everything about it?"

"to mess with you," you answered honestly. alexia rolled her eyes ad shoved you away playfully. you wrapped your cast up and took your shower, more than happy to go with alexia to the game. she hadn't been the only one to believe that you not coming with alexia to the game after breaking your wrist was bad luck. even alexia's practices had felt a little off since you stopped going.

it was funny to you that alexia saw you as a good luck charm. it didn't matter if you sat with the team or her family, alexia just wanted you there. you had never thought that you'd be so genuinely cared for in your teammate's home, but olga insisted that you were just as much a member of alexia's family as you were. everybody always made jokes that alexia probably wasn't going to give you up when you became old enough to live on your own.

"i got a pillow for your arm because i know the bench isn't very comfortable. oh, and i brought you an outfit for after the game too because we're going to mami's for dinner. i think what you're wearing is fine, but you know the rule, no kits at dinner," alexia rambled. you smiled to yourself, not often getting to see this side of her. you sometimes felt like you annoyed alexia when you'd talk to her or try to spend time with her, but if your week of staying in your room had taught you anything, it was that alexia needed the time with you just as much as you wanted to spend it with her.

[flickering-chandelier]

I Heard Your Voice in a Dream

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader’s village in the Spring Court is destroyed by Hybern (F U Tampon), and she is on her own until Azriel finds her. She feels instantly connected to him, but is not sure why, until one morning when he tells her everything.

(Also my first attempt at duel POV)

Warnings: a smutty ending

Word Count: 6.4k

You were running for your life when Azriel found you. 

After the High Lord of the Spring Court made a deal with the devil to bring back his love that fled from him, life looked much different for you. 

Hybern had attacked your village, destroyed your home and everything you had ever known. Your High Lord was nowhere to be found. Most of the people you knew didn’t make it out. Somehow, you had, but you couldn’t help but wonder… at what cost?

You spent your time wandering the endless green spring, not sure what to do. You had missed the evacuation. Nobody knew you were injured or where you were. By the time you were well enough to walk, you were alone. 

The panic was made worse by the fact that you knew what was in these lands -- monsters that you had no hope of beating should they target you. 

And eventually, they did target you. 

You weren’t sure what kind of creature it was -- just knew that those teeth could rip you to shreds and you wouldn’t be able to outrun it for long. 

But you did run, because what other choice did you have? You ran and ran, not daring to look back. You could hear it gaining on you with every step, until you felt, more than heard, the ground shaking beneath you. 

Suddenly, it was silent, the terrible feet of the monster no longer sounding behind you. You risked a glance back, and saw who must have been a warrior, with enormous black wings spread behind him, wiping off his bloody blade on the grass next to the carcass of the beast.

You stopped running, turning around slowly, studying him as he looked up at you. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen, with dark black hair and a completely stoic face, giving away absolutely nothing about what he was thinking. The hard lines of that face terrified you as much as they intrigued you. You realized you were shaking as he walked toward you slowly, as if approaching an injured animal. He was wearing some kind of armor -- all black, with gleaming, glowing circles attached to several points of his body. There were dark tendrils of what looked like smoke circling his arms, his hands. He sheathed his gleaming black blade as he approached you. 

He held his hands out, severely scarred, you noticed, palms facing you as he got closer. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” His deep, commanding voice seemed to echo through the now quiet woods.

You couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t bring your voice to speak.

“What’s your name?” he said softly when he stopped a few feet from you.

You told him, your voice barely above a whisper.

The warrior repeated your name quietly, his hazel eyes softening, then said “I’m Azriel. Are you hurt?”

“I-- I don’t think so.”

Azriel nodded, his eyes scanning your body, as if to confirm it. “What are you doing out here alone?”

You couldn’t help but think that the soft, gentle voice he was now using with you was such a juxtaposition to the fierceness of his armor, his no doubt rock solid body, his massive wings. “I have nowhere to go,” you finally choked out.

His brow furrowed, his eyes swimming with emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Your family?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. The expression on your face seemed to say enough. His jaw tightened as he swallowed.

“Your home?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Destroyed,” you whispered.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, his expression softening as he studied your face. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head, but you couldn’t imagine what he was contemplating. 

“Thank you,” you croaked out eventually. “For saving my life.”

You turned to go, not wanting to inconvenience him further, but his hand grasped your wrist. As you turned around, you noticed his demeanor had completely changed. He staggered back a step, still holding onto you, pulling you forward a bit. Where before he was confident and calming, his eyes were now wide, his mouth open in what could only be shock.

“What is it?” you asked.

Azriel shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. “Come with me.”

You didn’t try to hide your surprise. “You don’t have to do that, I’ll manage.”

He moved his grip from your wrist to your hand, holding it carefully in his, as he gazed at your face, his eyes pleading. “You won’t survive out here. My home -- it’s safe. You’ll be safe.”

Contemplating this, you tried to weigh your options. You knew he was right, that you wouldn’t make it for much longer alone out here. You could try to make it to another court, but how long would that take? And what would happen to you if you got there? But, his home, the one he claimed was safe… you had never seen anyone like him before. Never seen anyone as intimidating. Finally, you asked. “Who… are you?”

His cheeks dusted red as he seemed to grapple for the right words. “I work for the High Lord of the Night Court,” he said carefully.

Unconsciously, you took a step back, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Azriel’s eyes flared. If you didn’t know better you would think it was panic. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice steady despite his body language.

“The Night Court?” you felt your heart beating faster. Why did your savior have to be from there, of all places? The only thing worse than these woods would be the Court of Nightmares, where not just the High Lord, but the people were brutal and malicious.

“If you just saw it, you would understand,” he said, taking a careful step towards you again. “I will keep you safe, I swear it.” His eyes remained pleading in a way that you couldn’t comprehend.

“Why?” you asked, trying to make sense of this warrior before you. “Why do you care so much?”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. Finally, he said with all the sincerity in the world, “I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you here.”

You sighed, trying to think. As if reading your thoughts he said, “You either trust me or be eaten by something out here.”

He was right. You knew he was. Still, you couldn’t stop the fear that lodged in your throat as you turned back to him and said resignedly, “Okay. Take me with you.”

---

Azriel tried to keep his breathing steady as the two of you made it to the townhouse in Velaris. He knew he would have a lot of explaining to do. 

He watched your eyes widen as you took in the sight around you. Children laughing, people walking and talking, seemingly without a care in the world. A bustling city nestled between the mountains of the Night Court. 

“Where… are we?” you asked. Your voice had not yet risen to a normal volume in the short time that he had known you.

Azriel didn’t know how much to tell you. He would likely already be in hot water just for bringing you here. “The Night Court,” he said, trying to keep his voice bland. “Sort of.”

You gaped at him. 

Azriel winced as you neared the front door. “I hate to do this. But, I need you to wait out here.”

Your eyes only widened. “You’re going to leave me?” 

His heart cracked a bit at your words. “It should only be a few minutes. I told you, it’s safe here.”

You scowled, crossing your arms, but finally said, “Okay.”

Azriel nodded once, took a deep breath, and walked inside. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhysand were all in the living room. Rhys was laughing at something Feyre said. All eyes looked to you as you stepped into the threshold. 

“You’re back early,” Rhys said.

“I need to talk to you,” Azriel said to Rhysand, his voice sounding off, even to his own ears. “Alone.”

The others looked between the two of you curiously. Rhysand rose, masking his surprise, and gestured to his study.

When they were alone, Azriel didn’t know what to say, how to start. Finally, Rhysand had to say “What’s going on, Az?”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “When I got to the Spring Court, there was a woman. Running through the woods, from a bogge.”

“Okay,” Rhys drawled.

“I saved her, obviously. But, Rhys, you should have seen her. She was terrified and alone. I think she’s from the village that Hybern attacked.” 

Rhysand raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Azriel held his gaze. “She’s my mate, Rhys.”

The High Lord swore. “You brought her here, didn’t you?”

“What was I supposed to do? She would’ve died out there.”

Rhysand nodded, processing the information. “It was a risk, bringing her here.”

“I know it was,” Azriel said, unwilling to apologize, not for saving his mate’s life.

Despite the danger Azriel had put them in, Rhysand smiled at his brother. “You found your mate.”

Azriel nodded. He hadn’t really processed the information yet.

“Does she know?” Rhys asked.

“No. She’s going through enough right now.”

Rhysand nodded again. “Just be careful. You know how it went when Feyre found out before I told her.”

“I know.” 

“So,” Rhys said, leaning against his desk. “I guess we let her stay in the House of Wind. She can find her own place later, if she wants.”

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Really.” 

---

True to his word, Azriel was back a few minutes later. You were still shocked, trying to make sense of the day. How could this place be a part of the Night Court?

“I can take you to your room now, if you’re ready,” he said by way of greeting. 

“My room?” What, in his house? 

“Unless you want a tour of the city first? I figured you’d be tired,” he said naturally, as if he were speaking about the weather. 

You couldn’t help but gawk at him. “I get a room?”

“Yes,” he said, as if it were obvious.

“Okay,” you said cautiously. “Sure, let’s go to… my room.”

He cleared his throat, taking a tentative step toward you. “We’ll have to fly.”

You just blinked at him. Surely, he didn’t mean…?

He motioned toward you. “May I?”

Resolved, you said, “At this point, why not?” 

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before carefully, he swept you up in his arms, glancing at your face before flapping his mighty wings, taking the two of you up over the city, toward a large mountain.

You clung to him, your stomach twisting in knots, until he landed gently on a balcony on the top of the mountain.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he set you on the ground.

You nodded, looking past him into the formal dining room inside. “Where are we?”

“This is one of the High Lord’s residences in the city. He doesn’t really stay here with us,” he said, opening the door and leading you inside. 

“Us?”

“Me and a few others that you’ll meet. His inner circle.”

Again, you felt that fear spike through your body. The High Lord of the Night Court. His inner circle. What had you gotten yourself into?

As if sensing your fear, he stopped and faced you, looking at you intently. “The stories you’ve heard… they’re not real. At least, not in the context that you think.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to form a response. But, surprisingly, you wanted to trust him, this man who saved your life. 

When he realized that you weren’t going to say anything, he cocked his head, motioning for you to follow him through the house. You silently obeyed, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty hallways. 

Finally, he stopped before a room, shouldering the door open and gesturing for you to step inside first. It was more lavish than any room you’d seen in your village in the Spring Court. The four poster bed was huge in the center of the room. To the right was a sitting area with two chairs and a couch, cozy looking rugs, and through an open door you could see a washroom. It was more inviting than you had expected. 

“Will this be alright?” Azriel asked as you surveyed the room.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, this should be just fine.”

He smiled faintly. “I’m just a few doors down, if you need anything.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, for the second time that day.

Hesitating by the door, he said, “I thought you’d like some time to unwind. I imagine it’s been quite a day for you.”

You nodded, but couldn’t help the pang you felt at being left alone again. Azriel was starting to feel like all you had in the world. 

After studying you for a beat, he said, “I can come back in an hour? Give you some time to settle in?”

You couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Okay.”

---

An hour later, Azriel was knocking on your door, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. This morning, he was leaving for the Spring Court to check on how Tamlin had been handling things, and now his mate was staying a few doors down, with no idea where she was or anything about him. 

The breath was knocked right out of him as you opened the door. You had changed into leggings and a sweater, the shape of your legs on full display, your hair, slightly damp, was falling loose in ringlets over your shoulders. 

An angel, he thought. You looked like an angel. 

“I’m glad you gave me that hour,” you admitted, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel felt faint. “I haven’t had a real bath in ages.”

Clarity struck his brain again at the reminder of what you had been through, how you had been living since the attack on your home. His heart ached for you. He wanted to rip Hybern apart with his bare hands.

“Do you want the tour?” he asked, dumbly, trying to stomp down his emotions,

You agreed, and he led you through the halls, the tug in his chest dazing him. He ached to reach for your hand, to bring your body into his. How had Rhys endured all that time with Feyre, feeling like this?

As you walked through the house, you started asking questions, and Azriel answered to the best of his ability. He told you about Velaris, how secret it was, why it had been kept a secret. The Court of Nightmares, the lies they had to spin. He explained that he was the Night Court’s spymaster, explained his shadows, his shadowsinger abilities, his wings. He didn’t give a ton of details, not wanting to overwhelm you, but not wanting to lie either.

You told him of your past, too. Of your life with your family before Hybern, your cottage, your friends. None of them had survived the attack. Azriel clenched his fists as you spoke, marveling at how kind and reserved you were, despite the horrors that you had been through.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the direction of the dining room and he winced. He would have to bring you to dinner, to face the entire group. Azriel knew that Rhys had relayed the information by now about his… guest. That was why they had all insisted on coming to dinner, to scope you out.

He felt guilty about keeping you out of the loop, that everyone would know that you were his mate. But you knew how much pressure could be put on females to give into their mates. He would never do that to you, he wanted you to have a choice. 

He would just have to wait until you were settled, until you knew that you were safe with him. 

You looked at him questioningly, and he simply said, “Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner.” 

“Dinner…” you trailed off, a question in your eyes.

“With everyone. Yeah.”

Your eyes widened and he couldn’t help himself. He took your hand in his like he did in the woods, what had made the bond snap into place. “It’ll be okay. They’re good people.”

You looked skeptical, but nodded, moving a bit closer to him. He swore he felt his heart miss a beat. 

Azriel led you to the dining room, still holding your hand. At the threshold of the room, you dropped his hand and stood behind him, peaking around his shoulder at the loud group. He could tell you were frightened, and wanted desperately to hold you, to take the fear away.

He cleared his throat, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked at his friends sternly, willing them to behave, at least for tonight, before he introduced you to them. 

You remained behind him, creeping out the littlest bit, placing your hand gently on his bicep. He looked back at you, trying to calm you down like he had in the woods. 

“Come on,” he murmured, lightly placing his hand on your arm and guiding you to your seat. You followed, your body taut. 

Azriel introduced you to Cassian, Mor, Elain, Nesta, and Amren. You stayed silent, wide eyed, no doubt realizing the power in the people around you. Finally, he gestured to Rhys and Feyre. “And this is the High Lord and Lady.”

Your eyes widened further then, taking in Feyre. “High Lady,” you murmured, in awe. 

Right. The High Lady. Feyre was the one who had tore the Spring Court apart from the inside out. Azriel hadn’t even thought of that, and watched your reaction. 

Feyre smiled at you kindly and Rhys looked extremely proud. “Honestly, that… that’s amazing. A High Lady,” you repeated. Azriel let out the breath he was holding.

“We sure think so,” Rhys smirked, his eyes sliding warmly to Feyre.

Azriel could feel some of the tension leave your body, and he nearly slumped with relief. 

Your reaction seemed to please his friends, too. Azriel couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. 

Throughout the course of dinner, you had remained silent, your doe eyes taking in everything before you. Azriel was hyper aware of you beside him, trying to sense your every reaction. 

After dinner, Azriel walked you back to your room, pausing at the door. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “It’s not what I expected.”

Azriel nodded. “In a good way?”

You smiled lightly up at him. He nearly fell over. “Everyone seems… normal. Like a family.”

Azriel smiled faintly. “They are. We are a family.”

Studying his face, you stayed silent for a moment. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He squeezed your shoulder gently, feeling his heart constrict at your vulnerability. “Sleep well. Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, still smiling slightly as you went inside and gently closed the door behind you.

---

Despite your exhaustion, you lay awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, your mind spinning. A family. That’s what this was, all of these powerful fae in one room, the mightiest warriors, the most fearsome High Lord… talking and teasing and laughing at dinner. 

You had felt Azriel’s eyes on you, gauging your reactions. 

Azriel. He was what was truly keeping you up, you thought. The most beautiful man with the scarred hands and the siphons, you had learned, that helped him harness his unbelievable power, the apparently legendary blade at his side. And yet, the way he watched you, the way his voice changed when he spoke to you…

You couldn’t help but trust him, feeling safe next to him. He had saved your life, after all. It was that thought that was wisping through your mind as you finally drifted off to sleep. 

---

The first night in your new bed, you had slept through the night once you were finally able to sleep, too exhausted from the events of the day to be chased by monsters in your dreams. 

The second night was a different story. 

You didn’t even realize you had been screaming until scarred hands were shaking you awake, hazel eyes so close to yours, full of worry and protectiveness, saying your name over and over until your eyes cleared. 

Azriel’s fingers were rubbing soothing circles on your shoulders. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It was just a dream,” he said softly, cupping your cheek in his rough hand when you had stopped trembling.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked, tears springing to your eyes. 

He gently wiped the tears away with his thumb, not taking his eyes off you for a second. “For what?” his voice was husky from sleep.

“Waking you,” you whispered, captivated by his hands on you, his eyes swimming with emotion. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he said gently, his thumb still absently stroking your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice to be audible enough for him to hear.

“Do you want -- I can stay. If you want. Until you fall back to sleep,” he said hesitantly. You hadn’t known him long, but you imagined it was rare for him to stumble over his words like this.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quietly, though you felt your heart swell at the offer. “I appreciate it, but… I’m sure the spymaster needs sleep.”

The corner of his mouth turned up into a faint smile as he pulled back from you, settling in the armchair against the wall. “I’m used to staying up because I’m the spymaster,” he said, humor lining his voice.

“You’ve already done so much for me--”

His voice was still soft, but added a commanding edge as he cut you off. “Sleep, my lady. I don’t mind.”

You considered protesting again, but knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere. And honestly… it did make you feel better to have his comforting presence in the room, chasing away all of your invisible demons.

---

It didn’t take long for your breathing to go steady, lost in a deep sleep. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to leave you yet, though. 

The sound of your terrified shrieks ran over and over in his mind. He had been protective of people before, of course, but this. The terror he could feel radiating off of you, the tears streaming down your face, the look in your eyes before you realized where you were… his hands gripped the armrests so tightly that he worried you might not have a chair in your room tomorrow. 

He focused on you now: your peaceful face, your hair draped across the pillow, your breathing even. It calmed him down slightly, but not enough.

Azriel wanted to stay. Just to be sure that you were alright, to ensure that he would be able to stop the nightmares before they escalated this time, but he did not want to invade your privacy. He knew that you probably wouldn’t be happy to find him still sitting there in the morning. 

So, after you had been sleeping peacefully for quite some time, he dragged himself out of the chair and silently went to his own room, where he could not sleep at all, those screams rattling around in his mind.

---

Azriel stayed by your side for weeks after you arrived in the Night Court, only leaving, seemingly, when he absolutely had to. The two of you would relax in the library, raid the kitchen, wander around the streets in Velaris that seemed endless to you, in the best way. Despite everything that you had heard of the Night Court and its inhabitants, you were starting to feel at home there. Though you still were extremely intimidated by everyone except Azriel, and couldn’t imagine spending time with any one of them if he wasn’t present. 

Though you were starting to adjust to your new life, you continued to wake Azriel so consistently with your nightmares that you wondered if you should just offer to let him sleep next to you. Of course, you knew you couldn’t possibly do that. Your cheeks flushed at just the thought. Guilt gnawed at you though, for being the reason for his lack of sleep, so much so that you offered to switch rooms, somewhere further from him, but he would hear none of it. Nearly every night he came into your room, shaking you awake, then soothing you back to sleep. You couldn’t imagine how he was functioning on so little rest.

One night was particularly bad. You dreamt of the attack on your village, the bloodshed you saw, the terror you felt. You knew Azriel could sense that it was worse than usual, as he wouldn’t take his soothing hands from your arms until you had stopped trembling, which took significantly longer than it normally did. His eyes were filled with more worry than you had seen before, and when he pulled away from you, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and gently grabbing his wrist. 

His eyes widened a bit in surprise as he turned back to face you, but he said nothing. 

“Can you come here?” Your quiet voice cracked on the last word and his jaw ticked at the sound. 

He approached you slowly, like he didn’t want to do the wrong thing. “What can I do?” he murmured. 

“Can you -- I mean, would it be too weird…” you flushed, unable to get the words out.

Comprehension flooded his expression and you were so embarrassed that you wanted to take it all back, but then his eyes softened with so much warmth that you wanted to cry. “You want me to lay with you for a bit?”

You bit your lip. “Would you?”

The ghost of a smile. Your heart melted.

You scooched over to the far side of the bed before he settled into next to you, agonizingly slowly. He faced you, propping his cheek on his fist. “Is this okay?”

You could only nod, concealing half your face with your sheets in an attempt to hide how red your cheeks had no doubt become. The heat radiated off his body, his shadows nowhere to be found in the dim light. 

He smiled faintly as you looked at him. He murmured, “you have to close your eyes to sleep, you know.”

More heat rose to your cheeks. “You could sleep too. You don’t have to stay up and guard me.”

His smile grew. “Isn’t that literally what I’m here for?”

“You’re here for…” you contemplated how much you should tell him. “Your comforting presence,” you finally said. 

“You find my presence comforting?” he said, his voice losing that teasing note he had been using moments before.

“Of course I do,” you said, slightly mesmerized by those hazel eyes that rarely left yours.

His expression was unreadable as he studied you for another moment before laying down and murmuring, “Go to sleep.”

So, you did.

---

Azriel could not sleep.

His mate. His mate, who flooded his thoughts day in and day out, whose tug on him drove him mad every waking moment, was in bed with him. And she had no idea what she was. Or what he desperately wanted to do to her.

Your comforting presence. 

The words drifted around his mind ceaselessly. He was willing to bet that his mate was one of the only people who would ever feel that way. Most people feared him, or were at least wary of the near-silent shadowsinger.

But, his mate… 

Azriel’s eyes whipped to you as your breathing changed, ready to wake you up again if need be. He watched the rise and fall of your chest carefully, before it evened out again and he relaxed back against the mattress. 

He would have to tell you. Soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this, without having any idea how you felt about him. 

He thought of you, as he always did lately, when he finally drifted off to sleep. 

---

Strong arms were holding you when you awoke. Before you were fully conscious, you snuggled further into the warmth. Mother only knew how long it had been since you had felt that safe. 

It wasn’t until you heard the grumble of a sleepy male behind you that your eyes sprung open and you realized where you were. You were in your bed, faint sunlight shining through the curtains. And the shadowsinger was behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle, your bodies flush together, his breath tickling your neck. 

You were spooning. Azriel was spooning you. 

And he wasn’t awake yet.

Mother above and Cauldron save me.

Should you pull away? You didn’t exactly want to. And it had been so long since he had gotten a good night’s rest, thanks to you. 

Selfishly, you couldn’t bear to leave those arms. So, you did what any rational person would do. You pretended you were still asleep and savored the feeling of the strong warrior’s body pressed against yours.

It was a little while later when he shifted and stiffened. He was awake. 

Carefully, he untangled himself from you, backing up to where he had started the night. After a moment, you turned around, to face him, feigning grogginess. 

He was gazing at you, his expression more open than you had ever seen it. His eyes swimmed with something that looked like longing. Or maybe that’s just what you hoped it was.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. It made your toes curl beneath the sheets.

“I slept really well, actually,” you said, honestly. “Did you get to sleep?”

He nodded, his expression smoothing back to that unreadable blankness. 

“Thank you for staying,” you said softly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I don’t know what I would do without you, either.”

You sat up a bit, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Me? What do you mean?”

He furrowed his brow, as if he were contemplating whether to tell you something or not. 

“Is something wrong?” you asked. 

He swallowed, his jaw clenched slightly. “There’s something I should tell you.”

You just waited, gazing at that beautiful face.

Taking a deep breath, his eyes not wavering from yours, he said, “That day, when I touched you in the woods, I realized that you’re my mate.”

If you weren’t in your bed, you’re sure you would have fallen over. Your heart started pounding and you sat up fully, now very aware of the thin night clothes you were wearing. 

Azriel sat up too, studying, trying to gauge your reaction. 

“That’s why you were so adamant about bringing me with you,” you said quietly, your mind reeling. 

He nodded. “To be fair, I might have done that anyway, but… yes. I couldn’t leave you there.”

You watched his hazel eyes looking back at you. You had been right before, you could see that now. He wanted you. Longed to be close to you. 

“That’s why I feel so connected to you,” you whispered, noting that tug in your chest that is always leading you to him. “Why you always make me feel so safe.”

His expression flooded with emotion. “You really feel that way around me?”

“Of course I do. Since the very beginning,” you said, inching closer to him, so your legs were almost touching. You couldn’t quite believe it. 

Azriel was your mate. The sweet, mysterious, strong spymaster from the Night Court who saved your life. Who had given you a home.

He was your home, you realized with a start. 

“Are you…happy?” Azriel asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. 

He had been worried, you realized. Worried that you would be upset, or wouldn’t return his feelings. 

Without a word, you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him.

You felt the relief rush through his body as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to him. You settled on his lap, straddling him, deepening the kiss. 

He moaned quietly into your mouth as he slipped his tongue inside and you tightened your grip on him, raking your nails down his back. You felt his hardness pressing against your leg, and flushed at that feeling of being wanted.

His rough hands trailed up your bare thighs, toying with the hem of your nightdress. He stopped kissing you long enough to pull back, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded, smiling, and kissed him fiercely before he slowly pulled the dress up and over your head, his eyes raking your body, now completely bare save for your underwear.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling, before he kissed sensually down your neck. Then lower and lower…

You gasped as he took your nipple in his mouth, biting gently before soothing over the peak with his tongue. 

“Azriel,” you moaned, and he growled in response, tightening an arm around your waist and flipping you onto your back, pressing your body into the mattress with his.

“You never answered my question,” he said, his voice husky, desperate. He toyed with one of your breasts while he devoured your neck, biting and licking and kissing.

“What… what was the question?” you panted, your mind spinning. 

He laughed into your skin, low and sensual, making your back arch. “Are you happy?”

You took your face in his hands, guiding him to look at you. His fingers stopped, his eyes open and yearning. “I’m home, Az. You’re my home. I’ve never been happier.”

His smile lit up his entire face, and he kissed you sweetly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he murmured. 

He continued kissing you slowly and lovingly before the two of you got heated again. You tugged at his shirt and he helped you peel it off. He leaned against you, and you reveled in the feeling of his skin against yours, the feel of his muscled back under your fingers.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as he kissed down your body while sliding your panties down your legs, eventually settling his face in between your legs, his mouth hovering an inch from where you needed him. 

“Az,” you groaned, twining your fingers in his hair. 

You could’ve sworn you heard a soft grunt before his mouth connected with your center and you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. 

“We’re the only ones here, you know,” he said, eyeing you mischievously, sliding a finger into you while his mouth was occupied.

“Meaning?” you panted.

He smirked, sliding another finger into you. You gasped, your back arching off the mattress. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he said, his voice velvet. 

Before you could react, he ducked his head back down, sucking hard on your clit, while pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

You couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you, tugging at his hair, pulling him further into you.

Laughing into your skin, he splayed his free hand over your stomach to stop your squirming and continued devouring you.

Eventually, you needed more. “Azriel?” 

“Hmm?” he hummed against you, his mouth still working.

“If you don’t take your pants off right now, I might die,” you said, your voice breathy.

He finally took his mouth off you, leaning his head back and laughing louder than you’d ever seen from him. The sound was deep, filling the room. It made your heart swell.

Sliding off the bed, his eyes laser focused on you, he said “I suppose I can’t allow that, can I?” 

He held your gaze as he slowly slid his pants off. When he was naked before you, he stalked towards you, his eyes predatory. 

You gulped, trying not to show how surprised you were at the size of him.

Azriel was smirking, more smug than you’d ever seen him. He placed his elbows on either side of your head, hovering over you. “Was there something you wanted?” he teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge.

You scowled at him and he grinned. “You know what I want,” you groaned.

He cocked his head, feigning ignorance. 

“You were so much nicer before,” you mumbled, still trying and failing to pull his muscled body on top of yours. 

Leaning his lips down so they were hovering just over yours, he whispered, “I want you to say it.”

Your mouth fell open. “I can’t,” you squeaked.

He smirked. “I’m your mate. You can tell me anything.”

Sighing, you looked to the ceiling, unable to look him in the eyes. “I want you.”

“You already have me,” he said, lightly nipping at your throat. “What do you want me to do?”

“Azriel.”

He laughed lightly. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to take a guess then.” 

Before you could respond, he slid into you, groaning as he did so. 

He leaned his forehead against yours, forcing you to look up at him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him, saying “Did I guess correctly?”

Biting your lip, you nodded and he grinned. 

“Ready for more?”

You groaned in response, unable to speak.

Slowly, he started moving in and out of you. The two of you moaned in unison.

He groaned, “You feel --”

“So good,” you finished, and he let out a breathy laugh, moving his hips faster. 

Azriel was gazing at you with so much love and affection as he was thrusting into you, you could barely breathe. You placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled against your mouth, his breathing ragged. 

You couldn’t believe you had eternity to do this with your mate. 

---

Azriel did not leave your bedroom that day. Frankly, he never wanted to leave it again.

He knew he probably could’ve kept going long into the night, but he could tell that you needed a break, so the two of you had settled against the pillows. You were now asleep, your head on his chest, your fingers lightly gripping his waist. 

His heart swelled as he lightly ran his fingers through your hair, savoring the feeling of being in love and having you close to him. 

He never wanted to let go.

[ashwhowrites]

Can you do one where Eddie and the reader are in a secret relationship and Eddie wants to make it public but the reader doesn’t and he feels insecure about it but in reality the reader doesn’t want him to get picked on.They get into a big fight but they make up please and thank you 💖💘

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Ending isn't proofread whatsoever

To be ready

Y/N and Eddie agreed to keep their relationship a secret for the beginning. They wanted to date and get to know each other without everyone getting in their business.

Eddie struggled with it once they reached their five month anniversary. He felt like it was long enough and he was ready to express his feelings for her with no shame. Y/N was a little bit more nervous but she agreed, it felt like the right time.

"You ready?" Eddie asked, the smile on his face full of excitment. Her heart warmed knowing how badly he wanted to show her off, and their relationship. This was going to be their first public moment, and the first time he will introduce her to his band.

She gripped his hand, nerves filling her body. "Yes," she smiled, even though she was terrified. All she had to do was meet new people, it couldn't go that bad, right?

He walked them through the back of the bar, a small gig for the band. He walked into the small backroom and she slipped in behind. She saw a group of some boys and girls, all talking.

"Well, look who finally showed up. And not alone," one of the guys said, teasing Eddie. Eddie's face responded in a blush.

"Gareth, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Baby, this is Gareth, one of my best friends."

Y/N released his hand to kindly shake Gareth's hand.

"It's nice to meet you," Gareth replied.

She met the rest of the band, and the band's girlfriends. Or groupies, if she was honest. A few gave her dirty looks and it made her nervous. She couldn't help but notice how opposite she was from them. Their clothes were different, the way they talked and carried themselves.

Once the show started, the boys went on stage and the girls joined the crowd. Y/N was in awe watching her boyfriend perform. She forgot about all the girls, just focused on him. As the show ended, she excused herself to the bathroom.

She headed back out to the crowd. Everyone was spacing out now that the entertainment was done. She spotted the girls from earlier waiting by the back doors, where the band would be. She headed over to join them as they waited.

"How long do you think they've been together?"

"Who knows, but I would've kept her hidden. She is so not his type," the three girls snickered. Y/N frowned as it was clear they were talking about her.

"I know! I'm not sure how she managed to pull that off"

"She must have a great personality"

"Isn't he worried she's going to ruin his whole sexy rockstar look? She'll only bring him down. He should be with someone as attractive as he is"

Y/N felt a lump in her throat. She began to second guess the whole thing. They let a few people know and everything she feared that would happen was happening. Eddie was getting looked down on because of her.

Insecurity and anxiety filled her. She felt much less ready to share their relationship with more people. She was back craving their nights alone in his bed, where no one had thoughts on them. As the girl's laughter began to get louder, she ran out.

She grounded herself against the wall, inhaling the smoke as a few people blew their cigarettes. The door opened and she saw her boyfriend looking around, with worry in his eyes. Once his eyes landed on her, his gaze softened.

"There you are, what's wrong?" he asked, as he got closer he noticed her tears. She sniffled and wiped her face, a fake smile sent his way.

"Nothing! I just needed some air," she said but Eddie gave her a look.

"Fine," she sighed, "I'm second-guessing telling people about us."

"It's been an hour. We have to try longer than that before giving up," he argued. She feared where the conversation would go knowing Eddie had been growing more annoyed as the months went by.

"I know, but those girls...I'm not like them, Eddie."

"No one said you had to be, all you have to do is be yourself. Let's go in, have a drink, and try," he said holding out his hand.

"I don't feel ready for that, Eddie. I'm sorry. I thought I could do this but I can't." She flinched as Eddie's face hardened. He puffed air out of his nose and rubbed a hand over his face.

It was clear he was agitated, and she felt horrible for causing it.

"When will you be?" Eddie snapped, his force harsher than he intended. "Six months? A year?"

"I don't know," she said as she rubbed her temples. She hated the way she felt and how hard everything felt.

"Do you even want to be with me?" he asked, his face falling. His words were much softer, a little more broken.

"Of course I do!" Y/N gasped, moving closer as he cupped his face in her hands.

"Then why can't you tell other people that?" he looked up at the sky as he tried to keep his emotions back. But the familiar feeling of not being good enough was creeping in.

"I can, Eddie. But dating me, telling people, I've been scared people will pick on you. And I was right! Those girls said everything I feared," she explained. She figured her honesty would help him understand but she gulped when he stepped back and removed her hands from his face.

"Y/N, I've been picked on all my life. I don't give a shit about what people have to say, and you shouldn't either," Eddie explained.

"I don't think I can just ignore it!" Y/N exclaimed, "their words have weight. I'm not like you, I can't shove away people's opinions and thoughts about me and us."

"I think we have different mindsets of being in this relationship," Eddie whispered, he feared he couldn't talk louder without a sob breaking through.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm in this relationship to be with you, to love you and be happy with you. The only person I care about is you, the only person's that thoughts matter to me is you. You can't say the same." Y/N panicked at his words. The look in his eyes and the goodbye tone in his voice.

"But I do!" she tried to argue

Eddie laughed bitterly and scoffed. She moved passed the way his reaction snapped her heart in half. "You don't care about me. If you did, you wouldn't be breaking us up."

"YOU ARE!" Y/N yelled, tears building in her eyes.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE A SECRET!" Eddie yelled back. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. "You're worried about how others will treat me because of you? What about you? What about how you're treating me. You know all I want is for us to be together, no secrets and no shame. And you can't get over yourself to give me that."

"I understand I'm hurting you but can't you understand where I'm coming from? I tried Eddie and I realized I need more time, why can't you give me time?" she argued, her tears turning hot and angry.

"I've given you time, way damn more time than I would have ever needed," Eddie sighed. "Once you feel ready, maybe we'll figure it out."

She covered her mouth as she let out a small cry. Her heart pounded as she took in his heartbroken state. "Are we breaking up?" She whimpered.

Eddie nodded as he tucked his lip into his mouth. He put his hands in his pockets as a way of comfort. "Yeah, baby. We are."

Y/N bit her lip to silence her cries as Eddie walked back into the bar. She wanted to run after him and beg for him to stay. But he was right, he deserved someone better.

She blinked back as many tears as she could and walked to the nearest bus station. She sat on the bus, alone and crying, her heart wishing nothing more than to be in Eddie's van with his hand on her thigh.

~~~

With the summer heat, Y/N felt more miserable. She felt suffocated in her room, with too many memories of Eddie. And she couldn't escape outside without a sunburn.

It's been a long month of nothing from Eddie. Which made sense, he wasn't chasing her. She was chasing him. She was the one who had to make the move. She knew the longer she took to figure it out the faster he would run.

As she stared at her ceiling fan, she wondered if any of it was worth it. She's never felt this much pain in her life, and she was the cause of all of it. She had the power to fix it and she was wasting time.

She was getting sick of herself. Hating herself for what she did and continued to do. She missed him, and might even love him.

Eddie tried to seem like the world didn't crash on him. Tried to smile and act like he wasn't falling apart on the inside. But in reality, Eddie couldn't stand being alone. Her scent followed him everywhere and he missed the feeling of her. He missed her hands, her kiss, her body, everything. But he couldn't go back, she needed to come to him. He hoped that she realized her mistake, that this week of silence was her finding out how to come back.

The show ended and Eddie could hear his thoughts again. Not wanting to, he headed to the bar. He sat down on the stool with a heavy sigh and ordered a beer.

"Still pouting about her?"

Eddie turned as a girl's voice talked into his ear. He rolled his eyes as he looked back at his beer.

"Leave me alone,," Eddie sighed. He definitely wasn't in the mood. But she didn't listen. Instead, she dragged the barstool out and took a seat next to him.

"You're too good for her, anyway. She should have been delighted to have you on her arm," the random girl said.

Eddie eyed her weirdly, having no idea how the news of his ex-secret girlfriend began spreading. But he shook it off and went back to his beer. She talked his ear off for around an hour. Eddie was on his fifth beer as he tried to zone out the noise.

Y/N walked into the bar, feeling uneasy as the last time she was here went horribly. She scanned the crowd, her eyes easily finding him, but he wasn't alone.

A girl was seated beside him, way too close for Y/N's comfort. She was perched up, talking in his ear. Y/N's plan was to have a conversation but the jealousy overpowered everything. She was glad to see that Eddie wasn't entertaining the girl.

Eddie felt his body being spun around on his stool in a flash. Sudden arms wrapped around his neck and soft lips on his. He was surprised to see the lips belonged to Y/N. He instantly kissed back, enjoying the force of her lips against his.

She held on to him as if he was going to disappear. Her heart raced when his arms circled around her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her body to stand between them. She moaned as his tongue slipped inside her mouth, making her warm all over.

They pulled away, and Eddie couldn't wipe the smile off of his face.

"What was that?" He asked, he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or her that made his head feel dizzy.

"I'm ready. And I'm sorry for not being ready when you needed me to be. But I can't imagine my life without you. I love you and I want us to be together, no shame or secrets." Y/N said, she turned her head and saw the girl had vanished. She looked back at him, their bodies tangled.

"I love you too, baby," his lips smashed on hers. Knocking the air out of her lungs, but she liked the way it burned.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[rafeyswrd]

for your rafe cameron series 🧡!

i hc that rafe hates that his shy gf is a people pleaser so whenever ppl ask reader for/to do things, he tells them no and teaches reader to be selfish sometimes

sweet girl . part one.

part two.

. . . finally done with uni and travel work so!!! i have not written in too long, so hopefully i have done it some justice!! part 1 because i truly think it deserves more :(

warnings. manipulative rafe? oblivious reader. bad friends lowkey.

Rafe Cameron adored you to the ends of the earth, every breath you took called his name. He cannot think of any quality you owned in which he disliked (maybe, slightly, being a pogue). But God he could not stand how nice you were. You knew it was a bad habit, a habit that made you likeable for all the wrong reasons. 

Your heart was racing, and the base of your palms overloaded with sweat. No matter how many times you tried to relieve the stress, your mind would not stop reeling. It took days of convincing on your friends’ end, but it finally came to their luck when you’d hesitantly agreed.

Terrified. Terrified is the word you would use to describe how you felt. You were in shambles just thinking of the ocean, the deep seas scaring you in ways you would rather not imagine. But your friends needed you, after constructing a plan to get another batch of gold – all they needed was you.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked. Your shaking hands were gripping the edge of the boat before you nodded. 

You tried, you really did, only you felt the panic settle in when your legs were the only identifiable object below you that did not jitter you. Your eyes stung painfully, and you were sure they would swell soon enough. After every exhale you did, water filled your lungs and the fish that trickled by your trembling feet, did not help but cause a worrisome tremble of your body. 

It was a long while with overwhelming darkness consuming you, and time didn’t register then, not until Rafe’s angry voice was loading through your ears.

He was beyond furious. He wasn’t supposed to leave you alone today, but how could he say no to you when you were practically begging? (it did not take much — in fact.)

Rafe stood near his bed, watching your breathing steady and lashes gently flutter open. He paced near you with haste speed, before sitting down near your arms. “Do you know how stupid you are?”

“wh-what?” 

“You wanted to keep this relationship a secret,” his breath shook with every word he spat out, yet the touch on his hands were laced with gentleness. “So you better stay outta trouble. I can’t come ‘n get you around your shitty fucking friends.”

You sat up slowly, taking notice of the way your clothes lay folded on his desk chair, his own clothes hanging loosely around your body. You knew Rafe cared about you, he is your boyfriend, but it never crossed your mind that he’d find anger in your misery. 

You gulped, shrugging your shoulders yet your hands still circled by his, “I-I don’t get it, they’re my friends and they asked, it was a risk anyone would tak-”

“No the fuck it’s not, my God Y/N,” he dragged his hands over his face, before leaning close to you. “No friends would ask you to jump into the fuckin’ ocean knowin’ you’re scared shitless.”

His jaw clenched and you squint your eyes at the furrow of his brows, “Rafe…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” The frown residing on your face was evident, reaching out with one hand to clasp his rough hands with your own, and another tenderly caressing the creasing of his skin.

You didn’t understand his anger, but it was justified in your head, nonetheless. How could he ever be wrong in your eyes?

Not a second had passed and he was already mimicking the sadness plastered onto you, before using his other hand to caress your cheeks — a touch so soft sighs escaped the pair’s lips.

“Baby,” he cleared his throat, “Im- m’not mad at you. No one loves you like I do. I wouldn’t risk your life; your friends are selfish.”

He cradled your head onto his chest, wiping and pressing on your pouting mouth. “‘s not the first time either, you care too much ‘ts going to hurt you.” you shrug into his chest, heart aching at the sound of his own beating erratically breath your ears.

Rafe sighed, gulping and leaning onto the headboard, “gonna have to have me stuck by you all the time, i’ll be your backbone while you get to be all sweet ‘n shit.”

“you think i’m sweet?” a saccharine giggle escapes you at the roll of his eyes, and Rafe tightens his hold on you, knuckles white as you draw mindless patterns on his chest.

[vampiresfromxenon]

I Wanted To

Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav

Almost 3.5k words 

Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!! 

CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)

Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.

~

It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy. 

For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you. 

It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love. 

He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical. 

You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations. 

For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep. 

Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.

Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.

He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads. 

You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side. 

You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.

“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you. 

“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?” 

His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space. 

You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.

Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep. 

Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know. 

Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.

 “I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice. 

“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”

You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy. 

“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks. 

“Admiring how beautiful I am?”

“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds. 

He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-” 

“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you. 

You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him. 

“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery. 

“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel. 

“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more. 

“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy. 

“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.

Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes. 

Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again. 

The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do. 

You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.

“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words. 

Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise. 

Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you. 

“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.

“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.

“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.

He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.

“Safe.” 

He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips. 

“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat. 

“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing. 

“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you. 

When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.

“I love you.”

You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.

“Shit. Did you hear that?”

“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest. 

“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.

“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe. 

~

Author’s Note:

He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)

I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha

My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :) 

Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭

[hidtired]

Unfortunate Timing [Part 2]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

4.2k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

A single moment can change your life, change the world. Everything only seemed to get worse. The quarry was a group of survivors that had formed. You and the Dixons were outcasts, at least it felt like it. The girls seemed to see you in low regard being pregnant. The men were no better. They saw you as a burden. The feeling of people talking behind your back stressed you out. Being pregnant also didn’t help. You felt tired all the time, also being plagued with morning sickness. Which is a stupid name when it happens all day. Throwing up in a world were food is now limited also leaves you uneasy.

You also see that stress weighing on Daryl. It wasn’t long ago he struggled with the fact of having a kid. Now seemed even more terrifying. He was becoming short tempered, to his credit only snapping at you once but regretted the way he almost made you cry. “No! I won’t take a break I have to keep going out there for food! You’ve been throwing up half the shit I’ve already gotten for you!”

He didn’t mean for it to sound like your wrong for doing so, he knew you couldn’t help it. He saw the glassy film come to the corner of your eyes. His heart tugged. You were in your tent you shared, sat on the sleeping bag with your head shamefully down. “No, no. Come on…” he angled your face back up to met his. He sank to his knees in front of you. “I know you can’t help it. M’ just trying to say you need more. I just want to make sure you’re gettin enough.” You had asked him to stay because he was rarely around. He was out alone looking for food and you couldn’t help but see every time he came back a little more on edge. He was getting into his head to much out there.

He knows you’re having a hard time. With being pregnant at this moment in time how could you not. You had tried to talk to the mothers of the camp for advice on anything, they didn’t bat an eye to you. You had looked for support and were denied it. He saw that you were being treated like a Dixon. Something he was familiar with, and something Merle also understood. Merle became more chill around you. No more sexual comments or sexist remarks. Doesn’t mean he is any less better to be around. He treated you like a sister you thought. He still was an ass. Making mean comments or complaining about something you did. But he had become family.

Andrea was your biggest pain. She seemed like she had something to prove. She hated the traditional female roles that had been pushed onto the girls. You understood her disliking for Merle but she attached that to Daryl and you as well. She didn’t say outright mean things but subtle jabs. Week after week it was chipping at your demeanor.

So here you are now, you think almost 3 months pregnant. Seeing Daryl was the highlight of whenever he appeared. You sat in your tent with him getting ready for his 2 day hunting trip for a deer he knew was near by. He sighed feeling your eyes on him, “Yer breakin my heart with that look.” Your smiling face replacing your sulking one, “I’m just missing you already.” You stood up, “You should see something before you go.” He turned to you questioningly. You pulled your shirt up over your stomach and turned to the side, “I know I haven’t seen myself in a mirror for a while but, I think I’m showing?” You looked up from your little bump that you could see spotting the surprised face he was making. He gulped before talking, “Ya sure are…” he walked closer placing a hand to your tummy. You saw his teeth were clenched. He felt the weight of pressure crushing him,

“We are doing are best, that’s all I could ask from you.”

He left for his hunt a little less stressed. You also saw Merle off later into the day with the first group run to the city. “Hey do me a favor and don’t get yourself killed.” Merle turned to you, “And have those freaks naw on m' sweet ass?” You chuckle as you walk away, “Let’s just hope you remember your ass from your elbow!”

The day progress like any other. It had just become the afternoon when the sound of the radio chirped on. It cause some disagreement about making a sign to warn others about the city. You just went back to minding your own business. You helped boil water taking notice of Lori trimming her son’s hair. You spoke up noticing the displeased look on Carl's face, “Going for a mohawk Carl? Or maybe you’re thinking bald.” His nose scrunched up at the thought. You laugh at the reaction, “Bald people run faster.” Carl smiled, “Nuh-uh!” You shook your head and shrugged, “How do you know if you won’t try.” He looked to his mom, “I’d rather have hair than be faster!” He said it to his mom like he tried convincing her to not make him bald. Lori smiled at her son, “Ya me to, but if you keep moving you might be bald at the end of this.” He straightened and stilled, but he still spoke, “I hate haircuts…”

Shane came and sat down looking at you briefly. “One of these days you’ll be missing your mother’s hair cuts.” Carl rolled his eyes, "I'd like to see that day!" It had initially shocked you that Shane wasn’t Carl's dad. You always assumed for how close they were and how often they would walk into the woods together. Then it put a gross feeling into your mouth that his father had only recently died. Shane was his apparent best friend and coworker. But it wasn’t necessarily wrong, you just didn’t like to think about it often.

After finishing with boiling water you handed it to Carol. You felt sweaty and all around unpleasant. You needed a nap. You said to Carol that you were going to lay down if they needed to find you. You woke up to arguing. The group that went out had radioed saying there was a problem. Everyone was scared for their respective family that had gone to the city. You felt a pit form in your stomach. The hormones in your body already swarming causing you to be unable to control them. You picture what happened to your Aunt in front of you. Sometimes it still feels as if the blood was still on your face. The thought of knowing she was one of those things walking around somewhere. Maybe they all were already dead like her. You weren’t exactly thrilled about Merle as a person but, you knew deep down he was another person to help protect your baby.

You decided there was no use in stressing yourself, so you went and distracting yourself with chores. Laundry, moving fire wood to our fire pit, took a walk near the perimeter, which now leaves you here at the waters edge. You used the cool water to help with the swelling in your feet and ankles. Week after week you had the sense that being pregnant is going to really suck farther down the road. You fiddle with your knife while swaying your feet in the water. Lost in your own world when an echo starts to ring out throughout the quarry.

The car alarm got louder so you slipped your shoes on and walked back up to the camp. You saw a red car and Glenn standing outside of it. Shane opening the hood and pulling something to stop its beeping. People were yelling at him for answers when a van appeared, ‘so everyone made it back.’ It was a relief to stop the constant thought of the worse. You couldn’t help but notice Merle nowhere to be seen. But that thought was pushed aside when you heard Carl scream,

“DAD!”

You watched with a smile at the reunion of the Grimes family. Also taking notice of Shane making a weird face. He probably was feeling sick to his stomach and you thought it kinda deserved. He did persuade his grieving wife. The thought was interrupted by T-dog coming toward you with a concerned face. You clicked something was wrong, then started to look around. Merle was still no where. The sinking feeling of realization hit you. T-dog watch as understanding washed over you. A hand over your mouth, “W-where is Merle?” A few others turning at the mention, Lori’s husband taking the most notice. T-dog spoke first, “He was putting all of us in danger. He was cracked out of his mind.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, ‘I told him to behave.’ You inhale trying to calm yourself, “He dead?” T-dog shook his head. You nodded looking at all the pears of eyes on you. Your eyes were shiny but nothing fell. You huffed and walked back to your tent. While you were upset about Merle being gone it wasn’t about that. It proved how fucked this new world was becoming. A world your child would have to be in. Suddenly being pregnant with them seemed like the safest place for them. Your thoughts of how it would suck later in pregnancy and 'couldn’t wait for it to be over' stopped. Your child is the safest it will ever be in its life. That terrifying thought scared you.

It wasn’t until later when the sun began to set that you had calmed. It was cold and you wanted to sit by a fire. People were surprised when you appeared and sat with them. You had over heard parts about what happened to Rick. But at the sight of you got them talking about Merle. It was Dale who brought it up, “Who is going to tell Daryl Dixon about his brother?” Rick glanced to you then back to Dale, “I will. I’m the one who handcuffed him.” Then T-dog shook his head, “Nah I dropped the key, makes this one mine.” Based on that information you started to piece what happened on the run. That thought stalled to a stop when Glenn stated, “Not to make it about race but maybe a white guy should tell him?” Is that what they thought about Daryl? They just assuming he is like his brother? You huff in anger, “Really Glenn? He is not racist. He’s only the person that, you know, been feeding all of you.” Glenn turned sheepish at your harsh tone. You stood, “But you know, leave his brother for dead seems like a good trade for how much he has been doing for all of you people!”

You visible deflate mood switching on a dime. You move a hand to your small bump, “Sorry I know you probably had a good reason, Merle is a hard ass.” You sunk back down enjoying the fire too much to go to bed. Rick’s voice spoke calmly, “Your pregnant.” He stated it more as a realization. You look to his shocked face, clearly thinking of how unlucky a timing it was to be. You chuckled speaking sarcastically, “Keep up with those observations and you’re sure to make detective.” His eyebrows drawn in by thought, “Merle was the father?” Disgust washing over your face, “Ew. God I take it back.” Everyone was surprised at your blatant dislike for Merle. They knew Daryl was the dad. You start to clarify, “Daryl is the dad.” You took notice of there original reaction, “Look I don’t like Merle anymore then you probably do. Half the time I don’t think Daryl does either! But he is still at the end of the day my family now.”

Peoples lack of trying to talk to you has put there own version of you in there head. They thought you were quiet and jumpy. Questioning if they did talk to you they would do more harm then good like with Carol. Now the few talks they’ve had or heard from you made sense. You were out spoken and just tired from being pregnant. You stood up again feeling awkward. “I’m going to bed, figure out what to say to Daryl. Maybe watch out for a punch or two.” So you walked off to bed. You were happy you could see Daryl in the morning, but the thought of him learning of his brother broke your heart. You tossed and turned most of the night with the thought.

The light shining through your tent lead you awake. Still trying to cling to as much sleep while feeling drowsy. Then you heard Carl and Sophia screams. You sat up and tried to get to your feet causing a wave of dizziness. The shuffling of stomping feet telling you people were running over there. You slip on shoes taking a moment to become alright with gravity again. Amy and Andrea walked away when you walked over a voice caught your attention, “Its gotta be the brain, don’t youall know nothing?” You smiled glad Daryl is back. When you turn the corner however you weren’t expecting a walker and deer to be sprawled out dead on the floor. You made eye contact with Daryl when the smell of the walker pulled a gag from you. The smile being wiped from your face as a hand comes to your mouth. You immediately turned back around and walked away.

Daryl was well aware of how sensitive your senses have become. You can’t handle anything raw at the moment. He noticed a week into the quarry how you would look at something raw, something that never bother you before, and it would make you queasy. Speaking of raw he should probably get the squirrels ready. He sighed watching you walk away with a love sick hopelessness washed on his face. Something that people have never taken notice of before. So he called for his brother to help, so he could get to you sooner. That's when all hell broke loose.

You heard the calls for Merle hearing Daryl walk back. Then you saw all the guys surround him. Then you watched him pace back and forth. You knew that was a coping thing he did so you decided to stand closer. By the time you had walked over he threw the squirrels he’d caught at Rick. You didn’t even have a moment to yell his name when the former policemen jumped him and pinned him. Shane putting him in a headlock and Rick getting in his face. You yelled in displeasure,

“Get the hell off him!”

It was the loudest anyone has heard you, also the angriest. Shane had glanced to you before releasing his hold on him. Daryl sprung back up frustration clear on his face. When he turned to make sure you were behind him you caught a glimpse of his eyes becoming glassy. T-dog chimed in from the earlier conversation you didn’t hear, “It’s not his fault, I dropped the key.” Daryl’s voice strained, “You couldn’t pick it up?!” T-dog looked down guilty, "Well, I dropped it into a drain. But before I left I chained the door shut." Daryl shook his head and started to back up, "That supposed to make me feel better! Hell with all of y'all, just tell me where he is so I can go an get him." You hated to see him upset. You weren't expecting Lori to pipe in and volunteering her husband to take Daryl there. Rick said he was planning to go back anyways saying it was wrong for anything to suffer like that. Shane being the typical hard ass and self employed leader strongly disagreed. With a few others joining it was decided, they were going to get Merle back.

You were finally alone with Daryl again. He still seemed riled over everything but also you could see he was getting emotional. He was turned around facing away from you. You slowly wrapped you arms around him, holding him from behind. He slowly turned into you resting his chin on your head and arms going over your shoulders. You felt him release air, sinking into you. He try's to hide it but you see he is exhausted. You saw he felt like he had to prove something to you, or maybe just to himself. He released you with avoided eye contact. He took a moment with you and collected himself but, he was still a man on a mission.

You watch as Daryl throw things into a bag and refusing to met your eye to avoid whatever look that would break his heart. They were about to take off back to the city and into danger, so you stopped Daryl by putting your hands to his chest. He spoke before you could, "Look I have ta go get him, I know you don't want me goin-" You cut him of by grabbing his face, "When you see him again you tell him I warned his dumb ass, and when you get him back here I'm going to chew him out for this!" He looked at you stunned. You use your grip on his face to drag him into a kiss, "And you better comeback here without a scratch!" He smiled at you, eyes soft, he kissed you again.

"Yes Ma'am."

They had left hours ago and you had that uneasy feeling again. You respected Rick more then anyone else at the camp and he just got here. He was a decent guy but feel bad watching Carl's worried expression. Lori even flipped that he was going right after she herself said he was. Mood swings on that girl, and your the one whos supposed to be pregnant. Jim was off digging which concerned a few. It led to him tided to a tree for his own safety. Granted it was the only eventful thing that would probably happen today. Unless a swamp monster dragged itself out of the water you and all the girls were doing laundry in. Although Ed was a close to one. It was a welcome distraction all the same. To have girl talk again was essential to any girl and none can say other wise. Most of the girls seemed like they could now talk to you and it was a relief.

Although Andrea kinda still sucks the life out of fun, "So how did you end up pregnant?" Most girls look over to her wet laundry in hand and displeased looks by the question. You tightly rung a shirt and looked at her in the eye, "Well, I think your a little old for the birds and bees talk." That gained an eye roll from her but chuckles from the others. You smiled before giving her the answer you are sure she was trying to dig for, "I found out a day before the fall." The thought making you think of your Aunt. You continued on anyways, "Daryl and I hadn't been dating that long I'll be honest, so it wasn't exactly planned. Then I thought it was the end of the world." You look around to the thoughtful faces around you and shrugged, "Turns out I was a day off on that though." It was lighthearted from there, mentions of things that they missed from before. Carols unexpected and less then innocent choice sent waves of laughter throughout the lady's. That fun was crushed by the swamp monster known as Ed.

It lead to something you didn't expect. His sexism rubbing everyone the wrong way. Making Andrea questioned what he did instead of sitting on his ass doing nothing. Which while true and agreed with it lead to him to try to take Carol away and most likely go hit her. When Andrea challenge Ed in doing so it left a sinking feeling in you. You were uncomfortable with confrontation, probably do with the way your parents had treated you. Even with the sinking feeling you try and pull Carol behind you. The exaltation of his action were unpredictable, "Think I won't hit some pregnant whore?!" That was the first swing. It almost fully landed grazing your cheek. Carol had used the arm you had on her to tug you back before he swung. The frightened yelps and yells grabbing the attention from those farther. Carol now stood slightly in front of you, your cold damp hand moving to your warmed cheek he clipped. Ed now focused on his wife slapping her and trying to drag her away but the other girls now stepping in and clung to her. You didn't even see Shane before he pulled Ed backwards and began to lay punch after punch into him. Everyone but Carol were stunned into silence. Carols cry's and the grunts coming from the men filled the air. So maybe Jim wasn't the only thing that was going to happen today.

Everything was tense after that. With the amount things gone wrong and the still missing members that went to the city, moral was low among the group. Later in the evening Amy and Andrea had gone fishing catching dinner. The sun drifted closer to fully set as the fish was cooked with one question still in there minds, 'Where were they?' The smell of the fish left you gagging and need for fresher air. You found you way back to the water to dip your swollen feet in the water again. It wasn't a unusual thing you did, you did it often. Knife in hand and legs swaying in the cool water. The light dissipated making you aware you should get back soon. You had heard laughs by the camp so moral was rising from the stressful day. You used your cold hands to press to your reddened face from almost getting flattened out by Ed. Daryl would will not be happy about that. You had pulled you feet from the water shaking the water off them to put your shoes on. Then the day got even worse. A scream ripped threw the air making you turn to the sound. You see outlines of figures in the dark. You feel fear crash into you.

'Walkers...'

There were even two coming closer to you from the woods to the side of the water. They had almost snuck up on you if you hadn't looked around because of the scream. A tremble was in your hand as you gripped the knife you had. You slowly back away, hearing gunshots off in the air. Daryl had taught you this for this moment. He had grilled this into you in fear that maybe he wouldn't be around to protect you. The first walker was a thin women, the other a male missing its arm and limping. You lunged the knife into the women's eye. Your knife breaking by the blade as the women fell over dead. The snapping of the metal was like slow motion, the other walker steps away from you. You step back bare feet getting hurt by the jagged rocks. You had looked down spotting a larger rock and hurriedly pick it up.

You remember the motions Daryl had showed you for self defense but had never practiced them with him. He didn't really like the idea of rough housing with his pregnant girlfriend even if it was for your defense. You reached and tugged the one arm the walker had and tripped the thing in the motion. It was flat on the floor about to get back up and grab at you. However, rock in hand you threw downward blows one after another even after the thing stopped moving. Blood splatting all over you shirt and down your arms. The buzz of adrenalin causing your hands to violently shake when you stopped swinging. The urge to cry was strong but you notice the now slue of gunshots that had increased stop. The silence broken by the yell and worried cry for your name.

"Y/N!!!"

Your body fluttered at the sound of Daryl. Still bare foot you ran up the gravel hill and yelling back to him with emotion in your voice, "DARYL!!!" You had made it to the top getting to see him wipe around to your voice. His crossbow dropped to the ground as you both booked it toward each other. He didn't know what to think when he couldn't find you after the last walker fell. The inability to find you cracking a desperate hole into his chest. When he heard you and saw you running to him relief flooded him. As he ran panic rose again seeing you dripping in blood. Inches apart he heard your desperate sobs before crashing into one another. He pulled you off your feet lifting you into him. His voiced stuttered out, "Are you bit?! Are you ok?!" You voice quivering as you sucked in a breath. "I'm alright-t." He felt you shaking like a leaf and whispered into you, "I've got ya, nothin is gonna hurt ya." You had barred your face into his neck now crying in relief. Daryl helped you get cleaned up, that night you clung to him while everyone 'slept'. A moment can change everything, and it was clear to everyone after today.

They were no longer safe here and things were only going to get worse.

Part 3

Feedback welcome and requests open!

taglist

@daryldixmedown @aureolinb @the1eyedmonster16 @lettersfromyourlove @felicisimor

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[anakinstwinklebunny]

Author's note: smth for my angsty people. Inspo from amazing writer of all times @rssmary

SAM MONROE thought he'd never find someone who truly understood him. Then there was you—brilliant, kind, and everything he didn’t think he deserved. You were his lifeline, the one who believed in him when no one else did. When you told him you were pregnant, he was terrified, but your excitement and unwavering faith in him made him believe he could be better for you—for both of you.

But life is cruel.

The labor was supposed to be hard but worth it. Everyone told him that once he heard the baby’s first cry, he’d forget the pain of waiting. But when your hand went limp in his, and the machines blared around him, he forgot everything else instead.

Time stopped as they pulled him away, shoving your baby into his arms while they tried to save you. The nurses told him to hold on to the little one, to stay strong, but all he could do was stare at your lifeless body through the window, his mind refusing to accept the reality.

You were gone..

You

Were

Gone

He tried to understand the meaning of the words

Days bled into nights as Sam sat in the nursery, the small bassinet feeling like a cruel mockery. The baby—their baby—was beautiful, with tiny fingers and your nose. But every time he looked at them, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. It was like holding his heart outside his body and knowing it came at the cost of losing his own soul.

The funeral was unbearable. He didn't appear at the ceremony, hell, it pained him to even think about going there. Yet, he still did. Out of respect and love he had for you.

He stood there alone hours after the ceremony, staring at your casket, tears streaming down his face. 'I can’t do this without you' he whispered into the silence.

Because who he was? A random guy who wore eyeliner and constantly did drugs now to raise a child alone?

Yet, still, he had to.

The first night without you was the longest of his life. The baby cried and cried, and Sam had no idea what to do. He was a mess—fumbling with bottles, pacing the floor, begging them to stop screaming. At some point, he sank to the floor, the baby against his chest as he sobbed into their tiny body. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry.”

His mother was all supportive, helping Sam to do the stuff he never thought he'd have to do, but Sam refused to let anyone fully take over.

'They’re all I have left of her' he'd constantly say, not letting anyone to his room

Every milestone felt like a knife to the chest. The first time they smiled, he saw you. The first time they babbled, he heard your voice. And yet, he celebrated it all because he knew that’s what you would’ve wanted.

Sam made sure they grew up knowing you. He told them stories about your laugh, how you used to tease him, and how you were the bravest person he’d ever known. “Your mom,” he’d say, his voice holding onto the life to not break, “she was magic..wherever she is right now, she definitely loves you so much”

But there were nights when the grief swallowed him whole. When he’d sit in the nursery, the baby fast asleep in his arms, and cry silently. He’d whisper to the darkness, wishing you could see them, wishing you could see him trying so hard not to break.

“Why’d you leave me?” he asked once, his voice cracking as he rocked your baby in his arms. “How am I supposed to do this without you?”

He'd often find himself doing something so out of character to him - each week he wrote you long letters about the baby, about new stuff they did or how he got peed on while changing the diaper. Letters were hidden properly under his bed, becoming a mountain of folded papers. It was therapeutic to him, but also he felt like he owe you that, to let you know how his life's going without you, how he still lives - for the sake of your baby.

As the years passed, Sam became a father you’d be proud of. He was there for every scraped knee, every bedtime story, every school play. He wasn’t perfect—he had days when the weight of your absence was too much—but he loved fiercely.

Still, most of the nights, when the world went quiet and the baby-turned-toddler slept peacefully, he’d sit by their bed and mumble quiet “I miss you.” as if you could hear him

And he did.

Every.single.day.

Because no matter how much time passed, the hole you left in his heart never healed. You were his first love, his only love, and even though you were gone, you were everywhere. In the way the sunlight streamed through the windows, in the baby’s laughter, in the quiet moments when he closed his eyes and pretended you were still there.

And though it hurt more than he could ever put into words, he wouldn’t trade a single second of it. Because loving you, even in your absence, was the greatest thing he’d ever done.

And he’d spend the rest of his life making sure your baby—your legacy—knew just how much they were loved by the most extraordinary person SAM MONROE had ever known.

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[lukesvangelista]

𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮ᵐʳ⁷³

*gif by @makarhughes

in which matt’s helped y/n through her chronic illness for years, but one night, it all becomes too much.

warnings; chronic illness (lupus), hospitals + hospitalization, worried matt rempe

When you were 14, you sat in the sterile doctor's office, your hands trembling slightly as you waited for test results. You had been feeling off for months—fatigue, joint pain, strange rashes—and you knew something was wrong, but hearing the words "You have lupus" felt like the ground was pulled from beneath you. Your chest tightened as the doctor explained the diagnosis, your mind racing with questions you didn’t know how to ask. All you could think about was how this would affect your life, your schooling, and the people you loved. You felt numb, unable to process it all at once.

When you were 19, you had met Matt during an off-season charity event. You were volunteering at an animal shelter, and hadn’t expected much from the night, just another hockey fundraiser with a few familiar, but many unfamiliar faces. But when you were introduced to Matt, something clicked. He was easygoing, with a quiet charm that drew you in right away. You guys spent the evening talking, first about hockey, then about everything else. By the end of the night, you were laughing like old friends. You hadn't thought much of it at first, but as time went on, your paths kept crossing, and it became clear that meeting Matt wasn’t just a coincidence—it was the start of something that changed your life.

Telling Matt about your chronic illness had been one of the hardest things you ever did. You remembered the night clearly, sitting across from him with your hands clenched tightly in your lap. Your heart pounded as you struggled to find the right words, terrified of how he might react, “I have lupus.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid of seeing pity or disappointment in his eyes. But instead of pulling away, Matt gently reached for your hand, his quiet reassurance easing some of the weight you’d been carrying alone for so long.

Ever since then, he’d been the absolute sweetest boyfriend — always taking care of you when things got rough, and always reassuring you about your strength and resilience. It had even gotten to the point where Matt had offered to take games and practices off, but you always told him no. Despite his reluctance, he always listened to you.

While you had been feeling okay over the past couple of weeks, today was one of those days.

It had been one of those mornings where you knew, as soon as you opened your eyes, that it was going to be a rough day. Your body ached in ways that made it hard to move, and a low fever had settled in overnight, leaving you feeling drained. You groaned softly, rolling over and catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror— the familiar butterfly-shaped rash had returned, bright across your cheeks.

Matt wasn’t in bed next to you. You cursed to yourself as you realized the time, noting that he was at morning practice. You groaned, tears welling up in your eyes at the pain you were in. You tried to fight through it and get out of bed, but the pain was too much. You felt helpless. With the strength you did have, you reached out to grab your phone off of the nightstand next to you, sending a quick text to Matt.

one of those days. will you be home soon?

You waited anxiously for Matt’s reply, but didn’t have to wait long.

leaving the arena now. be home soon, my love.

On the other end of the phone, Matt could sense something was wrong. Even when you were dealing with a flare up, you were as independent as could be. You hated asking for help, because it made you feel like you were a burden. The fact that you texted him was a miracle in itself.

When he got home, he set his gear down in the garage and made his way up the stairs to your room as quickly as he could. Within minutes, he was sitting beside you on the bed, concern etched on his face. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently, brushing a hand across your forehead to check for a fever. You were burning up.

“Better now that you’re here,” you joked, cracking a small smile, but Matt could see right through it. He smiled at you sadly, climbing into bed next to you. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes. Whenever you went through a flare up, you felt as though you could sleep for days on end.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes, settling down under the blankets as you gently placed your head on his shoulder, “close your eyes, love, and just rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

So you did.

Matt stayed close all day, making sure you stayed hydrated when you woke up, adjusting the pillows when you needed more comfort, and even gently applying cool compresses to your face when the heat of your fever became unbearable. Every time you tried to apologize or downplay your discomfort, he stopped you with a quiet, reassuring smile, “I’ve got you,” he’d say, his voice calm and steady.

By the time bedtime came around, you were still achy, but the fever had gone down a little, and the rash had begun to fade. Matt had barely left your side, keeping the TV on low and talking to you softly, filling the silence with easy conversation to distract you from the pain. As the two of you lay in bed that night, Matt’s arm draped protectively over you, and you felt a deep sense of comfort. You hated feeling weak, but with Matt, it never felt like you had to fight alone.

As you fluttered off to sleep, Matt pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. He loved it when you slept — you were so extremely beautiful, and he knew that sleeping took the pain away for a brief moment of time. At the same time, however, he couldn’t help but worry. It had been a long time since he’d seen a flare up this bad, but you had gotten through it. That gave him just enough solace to fall asleep next to you after hours of worrying as you slept, his arm still draped gently over your body.

Within minutes of his eyes closing, Matt stirred in his sleep, feeling you shift beside him. He was exhausted, having stayed by your side all day, but he’d never leave you when you were having such a rough time with your illness. He had only just fallen asleep when he felt a light tug on his arm.

“Matt…” your voice was faint, barely a whisper in the dark room, but there was an unmistakable tremor in it that shot adrenaline through him.

He blinked his eyes open and sat up quickly, heart already pounding. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, even though dread immediately settled in his chest.

You looked at him, your face pale and clammy, beads of sweat dotting your forehead. You swallowed hard, struggling to speak. “I… I don’t feel right. It’s never been this bad before. I think… I think I should go to the hospital.”

Matt’s stomach dropped. The words hit him like a punch, and suddenly, he was wide awake, fear gnawing at him. He kept his face calm, though—he had to. If you saw how scared he was, it would only make you panic.

“Okay,” he said gently, his voice even though his mind was racing. “Let’s get you there. Can you sit up?”

You nodded weakly, but as you tried to move, you winced in pain, and Matt immediately reached over, helping you. His hands were steady, though inside, his chest felt like it was caving in. You were never the type to admit that you needed help, and hearing you say that you wanted to go to the hospital made his heart twist in his chest.

Once you were sitting up, Matt quickly grabbed a sweatshirt for you, carefully sliding it over your shoulders before easing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his hands never leaving you as he helped you stand.

Every second felt like it stretched on forever. In his mind, he was already imagining the worst—what if something was really wrong? What if you were in more pain than you let on? But outwardly, he stayed calm, focusing on the next step. He needed to get you to the hospital, and everything else could wait.

Once the two of you were in the car, Matt kept glancing over at you, his hand gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. “You’re doing great,” he said softly, hoping the words would bring you some comfort, though the knot in his stomach tightened every time you shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“It hurts,” you cried out, your voice shaky as you gripped your stomach and leaned forward to rest your head on the dashboard. Matt flinched at the pain in your voice, tears gathering in his eyes, but he couldn’t let them spill.

“I know, baby, I know. We’re almost there, just hold on.”

The drive felt like it took forever, every red light adding another layer to Matt’s mounting anxiety. But he didn’t rush. The last thing you needed was a reckless driver on top of everything else.

When you finally arrived at the hospital, Matt helped you out of the car, wrapping his arm securely around your waist as you guys made your way inside. The bright lights and sterile smell of the hospital hit him hard, but he kept his focus on you, his heart aching at how much pain you seemed to be in.

As Matt checked in, you leaned heavily against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You hadn’t said much since the car ride, and Matt’s worry spiked even higher.

The nurse took both of you to a room, and once you were settled on the hospital bed, Matt pulled a chair close, refusing to leave your side. The doctors came in, asking you questions. Although you were obviously in tremendous pain, the doctors wouldn’t let up and get you help. But all Matt could do was watch, his hands clenched together in his lap, his mind screaming for answers.

When the doctors left to run tests, Matt finally let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He took your hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re gonna be okay, alright? They’ll figure out what’s going on.”

You gave him a small, tired nod, your eyes glassy from pain and exhaustion. “Thanks for staying calm,” you whispered, your voice weak but filled with gratitude.

Matt forced a smile, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Anything for you.” But inside, his heart was racing, every second dragging on painfully as he waited for some kind of news. He kept stroking your hand, praying silently that everything would be okay, all while forcing his expression to stay calm.

For your sake, he would hold it together. But the second you were out of this hospital, he’d let all his fear and worry flood out—just not yet. Not until you were okay.

Within minutes, you had passed out from exhaustion. The doctors moved quickly around you. Matt stood by your side, holding your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in an attempt to soothe both you and himself. Although you were asleep, he could feel the tension in your grip, the way you were holding on to him like he was your anchor in a storm.

“I’m right here,” he whispered softly, leaning closer to you. “You’re going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

But even as he said it, the fear gnawed at him. What if you weren’t okay? What if this time was worse than before?

The doctors were speaking in low tones, their words just out of reach, and Matt’s stomach churned as he tried to make sense of it all. He wanted to demand answers, to make them tell him what was going on, but he couldn’t leave you. He needed to stay with you, to keep you calm, even as his own fear threatened to overwhelm him.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor approached, her expression serious but not alarming. Matt held his breath.

“We’re going to admit Y/N for observation,” the doctor explained. “Her symptoms are concerning, but we’re taking all the necessary steps to stabilize her. We’ll get her comfortable and monitor her closely.”

Matt nodded, swallowing hard. “Is she going to be okay?”

The doctor offered a small, reassuring smile. “We’re doing everything we can. She’s in good hands, Mr. Rempe.”

Matt thanked her, but his focus was already back on you. You were still holding his hand, your grip weak but steady, your eyes still closed as they wheeled you toward a permanent room. His chest tightened again, but he forced himself to stay composed, even though he was falling apart inside.

Once you were in the room, Matt sat down beside your bed, his hand still clutching yours. The room was quiet, the beeping of machines the only sound breaking the silence. Your breathing had calmed slightly, but you looked so pale, so fragile, that it nearly broke him.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead on your joined hands, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m here. You’re going to get through this, okay? You’re stronger than this. I know you are.”

And even though he was terrified, even though the fear still clawed at him, Matt knew he’d stay with you through it all. No matter how scared he was, no matter how hard it got, he wouldn’t leave your side.

You were everything to him, and he’d do whatever it took to make sure you were okay. Even if that meant staying up all night, fighting sleep when his eyes would flutter shut. The clock struck 1:00, 2:00, 3:00, 4:00, 5:00, and so on, but the boy refused to sleep, his tired eyes glancing over to you in concern more times than he could count. Time moved slowly, but that didn’t matter to Matt.

The next morning, around 9:00, sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of the hospital room, casting a soft glow across the bed. You blinked awake slowly, the familiar beeping of machines and the sterile hospital scent filling your senses. As you adjusted to the light, your eyes immediately found Matt.

He was still in the same chair beside your bed, his posture tense but upright. His hand was still holding yours, his grip firm even though he looked utterly exhausted. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and it was clear he hadn’t slept at all. His face was slightly scruffy, and his hair was messy from running his hands through it all night, but his gaze was focused entirely on you, concern etched deeply into his features.

“Matt?” your voice came out raspy, your throat dry from a night of fitful sleep. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, trying to pull his attention back from wherever his thoughts had drifted.

His eyes snapped to yours, relief flooding his expression as soon as he saw you were awake. He immediately leaned forward, his tired features softening. “Hey,” he whispered, his voice thick with fatigue. “You’re awake.”

You nodded slowly, your body still heavy with exhaustion, but you could already feel the difference. You felt better—weak, but a little better, “You stayed up all night?” you asked softly, your heart aching at the sight of him so worn out, knowing he had been up watching over you.

Matt gave you a tired smile, but his eyes were filled with love and relief. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice gentle, “I didn’t want to sleep in case you needed me.”

You frowned, your heart swelling with love for him, but also a hint of guilt creeping in. “Matt, you didn’t have to do that. You need rest too.”

He shook his head quickly, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. “I’m fine. I wanted to be here. The only thing that matters is you.”

The emotion in his voice made your chest tighten, and you felt tears prick your eyes as you looked at him. You knew he was tired, that he had been running on pure adrenaline and fear since the two of you had arrived at the hospital, but there he was, still sitting by your side, refusing to leave.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

Matt leaned forward, his free hand brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You won’t ever have to find out,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I’m always going to be here for you. No matter how hard things get.”

Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in your eyes. “I hate that you’re worrying so much,” you whispered. “I hate that you have to deal with this because of me.”

Matt’s expression softened, and he shifted in his chair, leaning in closer to you. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. Not even close. I’d do this a thousand times over if it meant being here for you. You’re everything to me.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart swell, and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You let them fall silently, grateful for his unwavering support, his love that never faltered even when things got tough. You squeezed his hand tightly, wanting him to know how much he meant to you, how much his presence had kept you grounded through everything.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the words filled with all the emotion you couldn’t fully express.

Matt’s face softened even more, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too,” he murmured, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment before he pulled back to meet your eyes. “More than anything.”

You stayed like that for a while, the room filled with a quiet peace as you held onto each other. You could feel the weight of everything—your illness, the hospital, the fear—start to lift, replaced by the warmth and comfort of Matt’s love. He had been your rock through it all, never wavering, never leaving your side.

“You should rest now,” you whispered softly, your hand still holding onto his. “You’ve done so much for me. Let me take care of you for a little bit.”

Matt chuckled softly, the sound warm and soothing despite his exhaustion. “Maybe in a little while,” he said with a tired smile. “But right now, I just want to be with you.”

You smiled up at him, your heart full. “You’re the best,” you whispered, your voice filled with affection.

Matt gave you a soft smile, his eyes filled with nothing but love. “Yeah,” he said quietly, brushing a thumb gently over your knuckles, “I know.”

You chuckled softly, an eye roll quickly following. But as the morning light filled the room, the two of you stayed there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, knowing that together, you could face whatever came next.

That was until you checked the time, however. You groaned, and Matt’s head shot up, his brows furrowing as he looked over at you to figure out what was wrong, “Matthew Rempe! What happened to morning practice?”

And that was the first time he had left your side.

[vrisrezis]

Love triangle?? With atsv characters

Basically a love triangle between them, their spider alter ego and you … ?

Gwen has been longtime best friends with you and Peter for what feels like forever. Even after peters passing, you and Gwen remained close. Throughout the years, it was only natural for gwen to fall for you, her best friend. Peter had often encouraged her to try and go for it, but she never gave in to the temptation. Not when she has been lying to you for so long about who she really was. While her dad did often speak his mind on the mysterious spiderwoman and his doubts, you always seemed excited talking about her. It didn’t take long for her to find out you were not only a huge fan, but definitely had a bit of a crush.

This was amusing to her, obviously. But it also made her wonder if you felt nothing for the real her, and you just liked some alter ego of hers because she was cool and saved the day or whatever.

How you and spiderwoman met, was not under the best of circumstances. As you can imagine.

Growing up, you were always pretty tough. Fighting for and defending Peter against bullies, it was what drawn gwen to you right away. You always stood up for others, and perhaps in the real world it’d get you in more trouble, trying to help a defenses old man against some mugger, you nearly got real hurt in the process. Thankfully, your celebrity crush was there to web him up.

She remembers the look you gave her, you were so.. awestruck.

You never looked at her like that. Not the real her, anyway.

“Thank you spiderwoman!” you say with glee, a word she would almost never use to describe you.

She clears her throat, seeming off guard by the way you greeted her. Or perhaps she was caught off guard by how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. Is it hot outside or is it just her suit?

“Uh… uh…” she hesitates for a moment, before displaying faux confidence. She nods in understanding, “anytime, hopefully next time I’ll see you under better circumstances, cutie.” she says with a wink, before swinging away.

There’s practically hearts in your eyes, did spider woman… just flirt with you?!

Meanwhile, gwen is freaking the hell out over the fact she just said that. It’s certainly easier to flirt under the mask, she supposes.

You didn’t shut up about spiderwoman for the next week.

Miles was one of your best friends, had been for over a year now. Although this friendship, to many seemed newly found, to you both it felt like you knew eachother forever. You often ignored how Ganke never failed to mention that’s something people in love say about eachother.

Ganke was a close friend to the both of you. He was also very much aware of how miles was keeping this huge secret from you, and he often relayed to miles how he should just tell you already. Miles said no, everytime. So ganke had to resort to desperate measures, on one of your many hangouts with the two males.

“Hey, I’m curious.” Ganke starts, “what do you think of Spiderman?”

Miles nearly chokes, he looks wide eyed at ganke, as if ganke just killed a cat. Honestly, ganke is surprised miles hadn’t brought up Spiderman to you himself before, but honestly miles was terrified of what you actually thought, to the point he didn’t want it mentioned at all in front of you.

But your immediate grin makes miles almost audibly sigh.

“I think he’s awesome! Way cooler than the other one to be honest like wow have you seen that suit? Nice color.” Miles couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up in excitement. How come he hasn’t heard you talk about spiderman before if you liked him so much?

“Hey, miles?”

“Huh?!” he yells, his voice becoming so high pitched it sounded like he was just hitting puberty, making you laugh.

“I- I mean.. yeah… what’s up?”

“Do you think he’s … cute?” you ask, rather curious what miles thinks of spiderman.

Ganke almost laughs at how wide miles eyes are, somehow even wider than before.

You would eventually have the chance to meet spiderman, which was not something miles would be happy about. A fight with a particularly … tough villain had caused much damage to the city. Miles swears, today he had to pull up at least 3 buses by his webs.

However, the bus you were in, as plain as day. He couldn’t see anyone but you, the other people in the bus being a blur to him.

He was scared, so so so scared. The moment you’re out and safe, he wants to hug you. He almost does, but he’s able to restrain himself once he feels gwen tug his arm, warning him of how weird that’d be.

He sighs, but he sees you smile at him, grateful. He’s blissfully unaware of how hot your cheeks are, seeing him in the flesh, in person.

You wonder if he’d be okay with signing an autograph.

Hobie was never the type for being subtle. He was blunt, but because of his casualness about it people do not take what he says seriously. He didn’t plan on making a strong effort to hide being spiderman from you. Because he trusts you, with his life in fact.

You two have fought together on many different occasions, way before he became spiderman. People didn’t like either of you, when you were young at least. Strong and unafraid, and like him, you often spoke your mind about things. Granted, you were a lot nicer about it but still. It’s something he definitely likes about you. To him, falling for you just felt natural. Like it was meant to happen. Like falling for you was second nature.

But over his time of becoming spiderman, he had … well… found out you had a major crush on his alter ego. You did not shut up about how “babygirl” he was. And while this was amusing at first, it annoyed him a little. Did that mean you weren’t interested in him, as hobie, romantically? And if you did find out who he really was, would you still like spiderman? Or would it ruin the imagination for you? And if you did, would it only be because he’s spiderman?

A lot of questions circle his mind, a lot of worry and it isn’t like him. He really hates it. Only you can manage to do that to him.

Eventually, the two of you do end up meeting.

You were known for being a fighter, laws or not, you didn’t care, maybe a bit headstrong in your beliefs. Maybe you got too caught up in things, as you often did. Difference was, hobie was not there to back you up. As he often was.

Not this time though, as apparently Hobie had some unfinished business to deal with. You had no idea what that meant, but you trusted hobie enough that he wouldn’t go off doing something stupid without you.

You were not hobie however, and did something stupid without him.

While yes, the guy had harassed you first and you had every right to be angry with him, you probably shouldn’t have provoked such a big and muscular looking guy. There’s no way you could take him in a fight, but you could always try.

Before you even had the gall to fight this guy, before he can even pull the first punch, webs are shot his way. You gasp in surprise, turning behind you to see the one and only.

His movements are quick, and honestly, spiderman struggles for a little.

If even he struggled during that fight, you didn’t stand a chance. But you’re too busy absolutely fangirl/boy/theythem’ing to even care.

Once everything was said and done, Spiderman turned around to take a look at you. He was relieved you weren’t banged up or anything, though you couldn’t tell. “You aight?” he asked, and typically he was so cool and collected, but around you he had no idea how he should be acting. Thoughts from before still clouding his mind:

He lets them go for a moment upon your excited squeal and has to hold himself back from laughing.

Pavitr mentioned spiderman quite a bit, and very early on when he first became the masked vigilante. He was quick to gauge your opinions, because in his mind you’re thoughts and feelings matter the most to him.

He would quickly learn you loved the guy, so he proudly continued doing the whole superhero thing. However, as time went by he had seen your admiration for Spiderman develop into a crush. Only upon your first meeting with him, though. He couldn’t blame you, he supposed that in your eyes this guy saved your life from imminent peril. In his eyes, he was just doing something that was common sense. Saving you while you were trapped in that bus was not something he needed to think twice about.

And he certainly didn’t think twice about hugging you, either. Despite you two not really being acquainted with one another. He was quick to come to his senses, about to pull away, but you held on. And he realized you needed this hug as much as he did. He combs his fingers through your hair, as if second nature. Just like he normally did, and he was the only one that ever did that. You didn’t seem to catch on in that state, but little did he know how grateful you were towards him. He could only imagine, but it was a fraction to how you truly felt.

“Thank you, spiderman.” You say with such softness in your voice, he’s never heard it from you before.

And from that point on, he did not stop hearing you gush about the arachnid. While he often laughed this off, he wondered if that meant things would be weird between you two if he told you the truth.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Scars To Your Beautiful - James Potter

A/N: I have no idea how I was able to finish this xD thank you @captainlunaxmen for all your help! I hope yo loves like this :)

Request - @nix-rose asked: What about a James Potter x Black!Reader (if reader can have some personality: extrovert, loyal, gryffindor but could probably be a slytherin, just a happy person, definitely rough and tumble but still enjoys looking cute-) “Have you… Always been this beautiful?” “…That’s so cheesy even for your standards.”

Warnings: reader is really insecure, mentions of abusive parents, James protecting you from a creep (nothing to explicit though) also, this isn't proofread :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Scars To Your Beautiful

But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing, The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful, we're stars and we're beautiful

The ‘other Black’. That's how you were known in Hogwarts. 

You knew your family wasn’t perfect. As much as they all like to make it seem that way, it was very much far from it. Being part of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black brought a lot of pressure with it, but you were used to it by now. And, deep down, you loved your family. At least your brothers and your cousins. Well, two of your cousins, you were always pretty terrified of Bellatrix after she enchanted all of hers and her sisters’ ancient creepy dolls to come alive and it still terrified you to your very core today. But you loved Andromeda and Narcissa, even if the latter was now spending all of her time with Lucius Malfoy and you saw less and less of her. 

Even if you’d never admit it, you were always a bit envious of them. Not in a bad way, you just… wondered a little how it would feel to be like them. You remembered guys literally fighting to get your cousins’ attention. And not a day went by without you having to hear at least ten different people saying how gorgeous your brothers were. 

And then, there was you. You had a respectable reputation since you were part of the Black family. But it sometimes felt like you weren’t worthy enough to be part of it. You’ve sometimes noticed some guys staring at you a bit too long. And you’ve gone out with a few guys before. But you’ve also had people come to you specifically to get closer to one of your relatives. And nobody had referred to you as beautiful. Well, no one, except…

“Hey, beautiful” you heard that very familiar voice standing next to you. 

“Potter” you smirked. 

“Going to the match today?” 

“The Slytherin-Gryffindor match?” you smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world” you told him. 

“Good, cause I need my good luck charm” he said as the two of you walked to the Great Hall. 

“Exactly, how does that work, Potter? Because I’m not really rooting for your team” you reminded him and he scoffed, pretending to be offended. 

“But of course you are, your brother plays on my team-”

“My other brother plays for my team” you interrupted. 

“Well, maybe not the team but… I’m sure you like the Gryffindor captain more than Slytherin’s” he smiled sweetly at you. 

“Well, you got me there, Potter” you admitted. 

“Promise you’ll come to the party when we win?” he asked as you entered the Great Hall and you knew you would separate. 

“That’s a lot of talk, Potter” you smirked but he offered his pinky to you. You rolled your eyes but you took it. “Never speak of this” you told him.

“See you there, beautiful” he said before he saw you walk to your table. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Here” you said, sitting down next to your brother at Potions and handing him a small bag. 

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing the bag. 

“That girl from Ravenclaw wanted me to give you this. I think she wants to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend” you said, grabbing one of the chocolates inside. “Bite this, if it doesn’t have a love potion, I’m stealing them” you said.

“I’m not trying anything!” he complained. “Remember when we had to take care of Sirius after that girl from Hufflepuff basically drugged him?”

“I know, that’s why I wanted you to try them first” you chuckled. 

“Hold on” he said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at the candy. “We’re good” he said when a small purple dust came out of it. You grabbed one of the chocolates and Regulus grabbed another one, reading the note inside. “So, how was your talk with Potter this morning?” 

“I didn't talk to Potter this morning” you frowned, stealing some of his chocolates. 

“Don’t do that. I’m not Sirius” Regulus glared at you. “I’m not oblivious of how you two just casually entered the Great Hall together” he said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Reggie” you said, pretending to be confused. 

“Or whenever he goes to Honeydukes he just happens to buy one too many Peppermint Toads so he gives you some, which just so happens to be your favorite” he said.

“He doesn’t… do that” you said, with your mouth half full of chocolate. 

“Are you… playing dumb? Or have you actually not noticed this?”

“Notice what? James is just friendly. That’s how he is” you tried to explain. 

“Really? He’s never gotten me Sugar Quills” Regulus said. 

“He doesn’t like Sugar Quills, why would he buy those?” 

“He doesn’t like Peppermint Toads either” he smirked. 

“Y-yes he does!” you argued, nervously. 

“No, he likes Chocolate Frogs, like the rest of us normal people” he said, as you glared at him. “And besides, it’s not just that. He’s always asking Sirius and me what your favorite books are, or asking Remus which songs you liked” he shrugged. 

“He… he does?”

“Does he really strike you as the guy who would read Pride and Prejudice for the fun of it?” 

“He might” you tried to convince yourself as you grabbed another chocolate. 

“Look, I know what you’re doing, and I know why you’re doing it. And it’s not worth it, bug” he said, getting serious. 

“It’s easy for you to say, Reg” you mumbled, picking another chocolate. “Look, it’s just… not that easy for me” you added. 

“You’ve gone out with guys before” he frowned, confused. 

“Not like James” you added. “What if… what if he’s really just being friendly? What if I think he’s interested in me and then I make a complete fool of myself? Just because he’s nice to me and I think there might be something else there? I feel…” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “It feels pathetic” you mumbled. 

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you liking James. Having feelings doesn’t make you pathetic” he said in a serious tone. “Secondly, did you not listen to what I just said? I honestly don’t think that James is just nice to you randomly like he’s nice to everyone else. He’s always looking for excuses to be around you, and he seems happier when he is. As do you. And, to be honest, I thought you were as oblivious about this as Sirius is, but now that I know that you were just trying to live in denial well, you’re dumber than Sirius- OUCH!”

“Excuse me?!” you asked, offended. 

“Only when it comes to this” he defended himself. “Look, I know that… for some reason, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re never going to find someone who fancies you-”

“For some reason? There is a very clear reason, Regulus, her name is Walburga!” 

“I know” he rolled his eyes. He knew very well about the hierarchy of the three of you in your home. And even if you were still not as below as Sirius because you were in Slytherin, your mother never let you forget that you were not Regulus or any of your cousins for that matter. “And I know that is not easy for you to turn off her voice in your head but, if you don’t, you might miss your chance to be with someone who is actually a great fit for you and it looks like he really likes you” he explained. “Don’t do that. If you let her win, you’re admitting that she’s right. And we all know, she’s not” he reminded you. “What’s the worst that could happen if you give Potter a chance?” 

“It’s very annoying when you’re right all the time, did you know that?”

“I do” he smiled triumphally, eating one last piece of chocolate as Professor Slughorn finally entered the class. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Ugh, what is it?” you heard your cousin’s annoyed voice on the other side of the door that you knocked on before it opened, and she appeared. “Oh, hey, love” she smiled when she saw it was you.

“Hi, Cissa, um… is this a bad time?” you asked, hoping you were not just interrupting her having sex with Malfoy. 

“Oh, no, love. Lucius is just moping about losing the match” she laughed, stepping out. “What’s up?” 

“Um, w-well, I wanted to ask for a favor… if you’re not too busy” you smiled. 

“Please, anything to get away from Lucius” she said, linking her arm with yours and already walking over to your dorm. “So, what’s going on?” she said, stepping into your dorm and noticing all the clothes scattered around your bed and the floor. 

“Well, I was hoping to get your opinion on something” you said, smiling sweetly. 

“Let me guess” she said, sitting on your bed and grabbing a few skirts and dresses. “You’re going to the Gryffindor party to see James Potter” she said, erasing the smile off your face. 

“Wha-? How did you know? Did Regulus tell you?”

“Oh, please, love, I’m sure you and Sirius are the only ones who didn’t know” she laughed. 

“What?”

“Yeah, Bella and Andy also know” she informed you. 

“What? How?”

“I told them” she shrugged. 

“Ugh, great” you said, throwing yourself on your bed. “My entire family is discussing my pathetic crush” you lamented. 

“It could be worse” she said. “At least he’s a pureblood” she smiled. 

“Right” you said awkardly, sitting up. Of course that would be the only pro she’d find on James. 

“Besides, he obviously likes you back” she said as she started looking through the dresses. “Stand up” she said, pulling you up and putting the dress in front of you. 

“How are you so sure that he likes me back?”

“Oh, please, love. You can’t be that dense” she snorted. “The boy won’t leave you alone. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one not from Gryffindor to get invited to their parties” she said. “Or at least the only Slytherin” she said. 

“W-well, maybe Sirius invited me-”

“Then why isn’t Regulus going?” 

“Okay, fair” you sighed. 

“This looks pretty. How come you haven’t worn it before?” she asked, holding up a black dress. 

“Oh, I got it a while ago in a very cute shop, but, I know it’s not something my mother would ever let me wear” you told her. 

“Well, lucky for us, your mum isn’t here” she said, throwing the dress at you. 

After you put it on, Narcissa happily sat back down on your bed and helped you with your makeup. 

“Hey, Cissa?”

“Try not to move, I’m doing your eyes” she said. 

“How do you um… get a guy to uh… notice you?” you asked, making your cousin’s look soften a little. 

“James Potter already notices you, love” she smiled. 

“W-well, yeah, I guess b-but, um… how do I let him know that I like him?” you asked. “You know, without actually telling him” you chuckled. 

“You mean, how do you flirt with him?” 

“It’s just… Regulus insists that he does these things to get my attention and… to be honest, I didn’t think it was any different from the way he acts with other girls so… I guess I have been acting normal, but… I’d like him to know that I’m interested, I guess…”

“Well, Potter seems to have a big ego, so congratulate him on how well he played today” she said as she kept doing her makeup and you glared at her a little. 

“And Lucius is as humble as they come, I suppose” you muttered. 

“Fair point” she said, before she continued. “Look, you already know he’s interested in you. Just smile at him, laugh at his stupid jokes, you should be fine” she insisted as she finished. “Okay, I’m done” she smiled. You got up and walked over looking at yourself in the mirror. 

For the first time, in a very long time, you actually felt beautiful. Narcissa had managed to make you look as elegant and flawless as you did whenever your family had a dinner party, but you didn’t feel like you were wearing a costume in one of the dresses your mother always picked. You felt like yourself. You turned around and hugged your cousin tightly. 

“Thank you so much, Cissa!” you smiled. 

“You’re welcome, love. Now go flirt with your dumb boy” she said, ushering you outside your dorm. 

“You too” you said, smiling and walking down the stairs as she rolled her eyes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When you entered the Gryffindor Tower, the party was already in full mode. You felt a few people, guys specifically, looking your way but you thought maybe it was because you were possibly the only Slytherin here. You walked across the Common Room, looking for James, but you found a different Marauder first. 

“Hi, Remus” you smiled as he walked over to you. 

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here” he hugged you. “You’re the only person I like at this party and now Prongs can finally stop moping about you not being here” he said, making you laugh a little as he pulled away and looked at you. “Wow… you look-?”

“Bad?” you panicked.

“What? No! You look lovely” he smiled. “Prongs’ probably gonna have a heart attack though” he smirked. 

“Shut up! Stop saying things like that!” you widened your eyes at him. 

“Oh, please don’t tell me that you are as oblivious as your brother” he chuckled.

“I am not-! You know, I hit Regulus for saying that today!” 

“Alright, don’t hit me” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “But, you cannot tell me that you haven’t noticed the way Prongs acts around you. He was literally throwing a fit about you not coming today” he insisted. 

“Really? Because he seems fine to me” you said, pointing behind Remus where you saw James talking to a group of very pretty girls as he offered a drink to one of them while another one threw her hair back, clearly flirting with him. 

“That means nothing” Remus said, rolling his eyes when he looked back to you. “That’s how James is-” 

“Exactly, that’s how James is” you repeated. 

“No, it’s different with you” Remus insisted as he grabbed a drink and handed it to you. 

“Really? Enlighten me” you glared at him. 

“So, you are admitting you are as oblivious as Sirius then?” 

“You know, you’re making a big deal out of that for someone who is just as oblivious on my brother’s crush on him-”

“What?!” Remus said, choking on his drink and pulling you aside. “Alright, now you’re just making stuff up” he said. 

“I’m not! You really haven’t noticed how Sirius is obnoxiously loud whenever you’re around to get your attention?”

“He… does not” Remus said, blushing a little. 

“Or that he calls you sweet names” you smirked.

“He calls everyone ‘love’” he interrupted. 

“Yes, he does” you nodded. “But he only calls you ‘my’ love” you added. 

“He… does not” he repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, walking over to the two of you all of the sudden. 

“Nothing” Remus quickly said. 

“Being normal, why?” you said at the same time, making Sirius raise an eyebrow at the two of you. “Um… h-have you seen James?” 

“No, but I am seeing too much of something” he said, gesturing his hand at your body. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

“A dress?” you said, looking down at yourself. 

“That is too revealing. You need to go change!”

“First of all, it is not. And secondly, your shirt is literally completely open!” you complained. 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t anything they haven’t seen before” he defended himself. “I am not in the mood to fight some prick that stares at you for a little too long because of… that” he said. “Go upstairs and grab my jacket” he told you.

“What? No!” you complained.

“Yes” he insisted. “Would you reason with her, my love?” he asked, looking at Sirius and you smirked when he blushed furiously. 

“Shut up” he whispered to you. “Look, just go upstairs and pretend to look for a jacket, I’ll distract him and you can come back in a few minutes” he said while Sirius finished his drink. 

“Ugh, fine” you rolled your eyes. 

“How come she only listens to you?” Sirius complained, pouting at Remus. “It must be your beautiful eyes” he smiled.

“How many of those have you had?” Remus asked, taking his glass away from him. 

You made it upstairs to the boys’ dorm and went over to Sirius' trunk to look for one of his jackets.  You found one that you kind of liked and put it on before you went back downstairs. You looked for James but saw he was still talking to the group of girls. You tried to look for your brother instead but saw him very busy with Remus and you didn’t want to interrupt so you went to grab something to drink.

“I didn’t know they let Slytherins into our parties” you heard Augustus McLaggen on your left, pouring himself a drink as well. 

“Oh” you said nervously. You were rarely alone at these things. You would at least have Regulus by your side and he would make someone go away if you were uncomfortable. “W-well, James invited me and- I was with my brother-”

“Relax, darling, I’m joking” he smirked, walking closer to you. 

“Oh” you smiled wearily. 

“It’s actually a bit… refreshing to have someone from another house” he said. 

“Um… thanks?”

“There’s something different about you” he said, eyeing you up and down. “I can’t quite put my finger on it” he said, making you pull your jacket a little closer.

“Hey! You finally came, love” you thankfully heard James’ voice coming towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist. “I thought you were standing me up” he said, kissing your head. 

“J-James, hi” you smiled relieved. 

“Sorry, mate, gotta steal her for a bit” he said, smirking at McLaggen who was glaring at him and he quickly pulled you aside. 

“Thank you” you told him as the two of you walked away.

“Don’t mention it, love. McLaggen’s a prick, why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t talking to him! He was talking to me” you insisted as James raised his eyebrow. “I was just getting a drink! And I was gonna go look for you-”

“Are you wearing my jacket?” he asked, confused. 

“Y-your… what?” you said, looking down at your jacket. “This is y-your jacket?” you asked confused. 

“Yeah” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it was in Sirius’ trunk” you said, confused. “I thought-”

“Yeah, beautiful. I’m gonna save you some time, probably none of our clothes is in the correct trunk” he laughed. “Except Remus’” he added. 

“I’m sorry” you said, starting to take it off. 

“N-no! Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. Are you cold? Is that why you wanted my jacket? ‘Cause it looks good on you- I mean, you look beautiful tonight” he said smiling at you. “W-well, you always do” he added. 

“R-really?” you smiled, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Yeah” he nodded. “You don’t need the jacket if you ask me-”

“Oh, um, w-well…” you stuttered. “Sirius just… didn’t like my dress and said I needed a jacket” you rolled your eyes.  

“Well, Padfoot just needs to snog Moony and mind his business” he laughed, making you laugh as well. “You look beautiful with that dress” he smiled dreamily at you. 

“Thank you, James” you said, feeling your heart flutter. “Wait, you know about that?”

“How Sirius calls Moony ‘my’ love? Of course I do” he chuckled. “So, what took you so long to come? Were you crying all this time because your house lost?”

“Really? Did you want me to come just to brag about the match, Potter? I can still leave” you smirked as he handed you a drink. 

“Please don’t. I was so bored before you came” he said, walking you over to one of the sofas near a window. 

“I find that very hard to believe” you said, looking around. 

“Why do you always think I’m lying?” James asked, placing his hand on the sofa, behind you. 

“Because I’ve known you since I’m eleven?” you replied, making him glare at you a little. 

“That hurts, love” he said, trying to sound offended. “When have I ever lied to you?” 

“Well, for starters, you didn’t tell me that you, my brother, and Peter became Animagi to help Remus-”

“That was your brother. He didn’t let us tell you” he defended himself. 

“Alright” you said, trying to suppress your smile. “So, you’ve never lied to me?”

“Never, love” he insisted.

“Not even to avoid hurting my feelings?” you raised your eyebrow at him and noticed him tense a little. 

“N-no, of course not” he said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“So, last Christmas when you invited us over and your mum was teaching me how to cook, you actually liked the Christmas Pudding I made?” 

“Of course I did” he chuckled. 

“James” you glared at him. 

“Yes, love?” he smiled, goofily at you. 

“I mistakenly added salt instead of sugar, it was ruined” you laughed. 

“No, no. It wasn’t ruined. It gave it a new better taste” he shrugged. 

“James!” you laughed. 

“What? It’s true! I liked it” he insisted. 

“Nobody else ate it! You can’t possibly think it was good” you laughed. 

“Well, I did” he shrugged, turning your way. 

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?” 

“Oh, and you’re not?” he laughed making you smile. “Have you… always been this beautiful?” 

“That’s so cheesy, Potter, even for your standards” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks burning. 

“Wait… do you-? Do you not believe me?” he asked, his tone getting serious. 

“I- um… I do” you said, unconvincingly. 

“You don’t” he said, turning himself to you. “It is one thing that you don’t believe that I liked your Christmas Pudding-”

“You didn't” you insisted. 

“But how can you not believe me about that?” 

“I do!” you insisted. “It’s just… I’m sorry, I’m being stupid” you smiled sadly, looking at your drink. 

“No, you’re not” James insisted, placing his hand under your chin to make you look at him. “What’s going on, love? Did- did I say something wrong?” 

“No!” you quickly said. “You never say anything wrong” you smiled sadly. “It’s just… I’m not really used to um… hearing that” you said, feeling your cheeks blush. 

“Love, I tell you that every single day! Why is it so hard for you to believe me?” 

“Because, James, look at my entire family” you said, sadly. “You know who I live with. My mother is not warm and loving like your mum is. I grew up very differently than you” you reminded him, making his look turn soft and his heart break a little. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me” you added. “It’s just… not easy for me to believe it, I guess” you smiled sadly. 

“Well, love” he said, moving closer to you and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “If you’re okay with it, I will keep saying it until you believe me” he told you. “Because you are the most beautiful person that I have seen in my life. And, since apparently I haven’t been as obvious as I thought I was, I am completely and madly in love with you and I would love to take you out on a date” he said, making your heart stop. 

“R-really?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows at you. “I m-mean, y-yes, I would love to go on a date with you” you smiled. “And… in case you didn’t know because I’m horrible at this… I am very much in love with you too” you added, making the biggest smile appear on James’ face. “And I also think you’re really beautiful” you said before he pulled you in to kiss you on the lips. 

“I love you, beautiful” he said, making you smile. 

“I love you too, Jamie” you said. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Anything” he said.

“Do you like Peppermint Toads?” you asked suddenly, remembering your conversation with Regulus. 

“Do I uh-” he frowned. “Why are you asking me that?” he chuckled nervously. 

“You always give me Peppermint Toads when you say you bought too many but… I don’t think I’ve seen you have one” you explained. 

“Well, love… I hate to break it to you, but nobody likes Peppermint Toads” he admitted. 

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is” he said, kissing your cheek. “I just bought them because you always smiled when I gave them to you” he said. “So, I’ll buy you as many as you want” he said, hugging you to him and giving you another peck on the lips. 

"Thanks, love" you smiled. "Can you now tell me if you actually liked my Christmas Pudding?"

"I did!"

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves liked it! :)

[evilminji]

You know, i just had the mental image of a sith in star wars finding a ritual or something to summon a ghost and end up summoning danny, while in space. The sith is struggling to try and convince this otherworldly being to help them do evil and their just staring out the nearest viewport in awe about the amount of new space things to discover.

How does it feel? To have such a big and wrinkly brain? So full of smartness?? :O

That? Is Brilliant~☆

It could be a Krell situation. Stress of the war got to be too much. Or a Dooku situation, discontent fed and fed until it burst. Like a silently festering wound, left unseen and untreated.

Regardless of HOW it happened?

The lil shit steals from Madame Nu. Like a CRAZY PERSON.

Rightfully terrified that she will Kick Their Ass into the stratosphere for touching HER archives, they head straight for the "Sith Stuff". What does it DO? What RESEARCH did they do? HA! You ask too much of them! There is no PLAN here!

Their brain has gone to SOUP with the Dark Side. It's all wild mood swings and impulse decisions! Research and careful precautions takes PATIENCE. Planning. The calm and rationality they just THREW OUT AN AIR LOCK.

They are high on the initial high of the Dark Side that few, if any, Dark Siders ever SURVIVE. That TEST of their character and control, as they stand in the storm they have unleashed upon themselves.

You want POWER?

Okay.

HAVE IT.

Like trying to swallow a waterfall. Drink the ocean, one cup at a time. Endless, yes, but equally so? It is BRINE. Not the life giving waters of the Light. The more you drink... the deeper your thirst. The faster you die. Can you control yourself? Suffer it? For that's all that's left... suffering. Thirst. Endless, Endless Thirst.

Water water everywhere, and it shall grind your bones to DUST when next you drink.

Welcome to the Dark Side! Was it WORTH it?

But, ah, our Fallen's brain is muddled soup. They think so. They are not themselves. May never be again. That's why it's a tragedy. Because it both IS and ISN'T their hands that takes that Sith artifact. Because who they WERE would be appalled.

They don't even know what they are grabbing, do they? No one does. Seized from the ruins of a laboratory. Long dead horrors, painted upon the walls. A Sith's obsession with the afterlife of his people. Ghosts. Beings that were, supposedly, DIFFERENT then Force Ghosts.

The notes speak of "green". A vision or experience in his youth. Brief. The world tearing open. A gate to somewhere "green". The Sith believed it was the afterlife. Felt death inside the gate. Described as "peaceful, joyful, driven, and eternal", he was ultimately unable to full articulate the full scope of what he believed he saw.

Now his last device is in the hands of a fallen jedi.

Who is going to USE it.

P A N I C

Obviously, the Temple gaurds chase the crazy mofo as hard as they can. Without a DOUBT, every master on hand and available, is roped in by Madame Nu to FOLLOW that psychopath, before he unleashs FORCE KNOWS WHAT, directly over CORUSCANT AIRSPACE!!! The SENATE. THE TEMPLE?! HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF LIVES!?

Fallen McFuckface? Clearly did not think this through (nooooo, REALLY? Everyone is SHOCKED! Shocked, they tell you!), panics. Which is, unfortunately, the LAST thing they wanted them to do. FUCK™.

Masters and Knights are LITERALLY cutting through the hull, kicking down the door, they can survive limited Space exposure and honestly? We're not THAT high yet! Let's see you jump to hyperspace with HOLES in your ship! (Fucking, DONT GIVE THEM IDEAS! They're insane, remember?!) (Shit. You're right.)

When?

.......Green...~¤~

Hilariously? The Sith can plan all they want. But you can NEVER plan for stupid. Make a plan idiot proof, as they say, and the Universe will just build a better idiot. All that carefully curated misery, hatred, and suffering? That DISPAIR. The webs upon webs of Darkness carefully spread across the Senate district? Choking the Temple?

Mmmmm, tasty kindling. Good fuel! Sith Artifact LIKEY~!

It RIPS and TEARS. A screaming MAW IN THE SKY. A black hole for Dark Side energy that takes and takes and TAKES. Dropping people all across the district below. KILLING the particularly irredeemably monstrous. After all~!

The Force? Is in all things.

You DON'T have to be Force Sensitive, to Fall. Just a BASTARD. Just cruel and selfish, hateful and needlessly petty. All the things that would sour and turn a Jedi? Can sour and turn YOU too. Just slower, quiter, and with less explosions. But! It still wraps the Dark around your bones. Feeds it into your blood.

Kills you, when it all gets ripped away.

One must wonder.... how many Senators die instantly? And how many die in the days to come? Slowly, painfully, bed-bound as they reflect on who they had become? The fall out will be SPECTACULAR.

The Jedi's fault? How? How is their being stretched so thin they could not mount a proper response THEIR fault? How is YOUR corruption, THEIR fault? Please note all the individuals who were FINE! Baffled, but FINE!

But perhaps you are correct.

Perhaps, for the safety of ALL, we should MOVE our main Temple.

We've done it before. We can do it again. Or do you not want to HAVE that conversation? Hmmm? No, no, we wouldn't want to be a THREAT to you FINE people! You HONORABLE senators! Please, continue to yell and make demands! SEE HOW FAR IT GETS YOU!

Would they normally send someone more diplomatic? Yes. But STRANGELY all of THEM had weird SITH Darkness on them that got violently ripped off! They are in the halls of healing. Unconscious. Because getting Sith shit, that was hooked into your brain, violently ripped out? Not GREAT! 0 out of 10 healers recommend!

Fuuuuck you! Yes, I bite! And be warned, my Race is VENOMOUS! *aggravated Jedi Senior Padawan noises, hissing*

Danny? Got pulled out in FULL regalia. Just FULL on Ice and Stars. Full "I am the Cosmos beholding itself, I am the dead child you could not save.", beyond vanta-black armor and cape like a window to ever shifting stars, crown of aurora borealis playing off the eternal ice, all upon a youngling that seems forever floating... frozen in time. By death.

Was it sacrifice? Natural? Is it just a shape the spirit takes? IS he a youngling?

They both can and can not feel him.

Both can and can not SEE him.

He is so young....

A child king, hsmiles with such shared grief, when they look upon that too large crown, upon a head that should never have been forced to wear it. Like a child, forced to wear his father's mantle too soon. Is that what happened? Was it something worse? They can not bring themselves to ask.

Not when he is so... so DELIGHTED?

Playing with the younglings. In AWE of each and everyone of them. The things they learned each day. "Who wants to go flying?" "Try to float me!" "I believe in you." Oh, he BASKS in their Light like a desperate thing. Showers them with praise and attention, gentle corrections and undivided attention.

He is empathic. Alive and dead. Fascinated by the stars.

And of course... King™.

No, no, he's not interested in your Senate. Doesn't like um, Doesn't trust um. The vibes are RANCID. But I mean... if you REALLY need an army so bad? Since it seems you guys are pushing yourself WAY outside of your normal duties? Like, he doesn't know, uhhh farmers burning crops to prevent starvation? Something like that.

Just? Since you hate it? But are worried people will die? Or those Clone guys (Sweet! Clones! Ellie is gonna be HYPED.) Are gonna die? He could, you know... fix that for you?

JUST you.

We're gonna have to get it in writing. And they won't do anything BUT stop the robots and help people. They don't actually answer to you. Soooo.....?

.......are you offering us an army? (Yeah. An endless skeleton army. Lead by the greatest Generals to have ever died.).....(they get bored.)

And SUDDENLY? Oh look! The Galactic suffering levels? Just fucking DROPPED. All those SENTIENT Clone soldiers! Dying in vain, in agony, ALONE? Not happening! Skeletons can get blasted apart, fade, reassemble, and march RIGHT BACK OUT! This is GREAT fun!

And even better? Unlike with Pariah? THIS time they march? King PHANTOM is sending them to HELP people! Woooooo! Destroy metal crunchy things! Help clean up rubble! Build a house! Rescue trapped people from rubble! Tireless effort! Honor and service! Thanks for the FREE METAL! *rips apart your robots*

There are no anti-ecto technologies here! The BEST they have is Force users! Which? Ha ha ha! GOOD LUCK. That's what? One? TWO? Of you?? To HOW MANY of us??? *cackles in bone army*

And! If they happen upon OTHER things they don't like? Whoop! Should'a thought of that! Before being a DICK! King Phantom says slavery is ILLEGAL. And we, the FORMER slave army of King Pariah, have Millennium Long ISSUES with that! (Easy to remove that chip, when you can reach THROUGH a person. Here you Slaver FUCK. YOU have it! In fact! Have ALL of them. From each and every slave.)

Anikin LOVES his new Bone friends. They are WONDERFUL. Him n them? Bonded. He's made them all speech boards. They're plotting the gruesome end of the Hutt cartel together. He's showing them the holo of his wedding. They're making Super Advanced Chip scan-.....

W....Why is his scanner going off? There should be nothing near by for it to recognize. The only thing HERE is him, his Bone Buddies, and Rex for supervision.... *mounting horror as he slowly waves the device around* *beep*

R-Rex?

...

......

The Clones? De-chipped in like... two days. There are too many skeletons to NOT have them be able to just? *reach in, feel for the Non-Clone bit, grab it, pull out* didn't even need surgery! But boy, oh, boy! Is Anikin upset. That sure is a Slave chip! Hey, Kamino! Have a Chosen One and his Bones Bros! Some Clones in orbit with Real Big Guns.

And Palatine? Is? PISSED.

His whole ass Empire is dissolving in his hands. The Sith Master Plan! Going up in smoke! Walls are closing in! All because of ONE(1) glowing BRAT.

Wanna bet he goes after him... with LIGHTNING? In human form, of course. Danny. Who DIED to electricity. Who has, throughout ALL of this? Been chilling in the Jedi temple, finally... FINALLY! Unwinding. Putting down the stress on his shoulders. Healing from his childhood. Cuddling cute babies and laying on the grass to nap, listen to the waterfall. Be at PEACE, surrounded by the Light of the Jedi.

Danny, who has been making friends. Enjoying the archives. For once in his stressful, STRESSFUL life? Letting OTHER PEOPLE deal with it. Playing with alien puppies and weird not-cats. Trying new foods! Seeing about adopting some droids that Tucker might get on with. Sorry "buying" some droids. (As though those Restraining Bolts aren't coming off the SECOND they droids are in his hands.)

It's been cool. Relaxing. Great for his mental health.

They have folks LITERALLY called Mind Healers here! Jazz would love it!

So obviously Sith face ruins it. Hurts his friends and blasts him with LIGHTNING. The kids are crying and terrified. This was supposed to be some sort of "learn about how the Republic works" day trip to the Senate! He was helping chaperone. They are being so, SO brave. Staying together. Trying to get their teacher out of harms ways.

He? Is? PISSED.

How DARE you. How FUCKING DARE YOU?! A fight between adults? Not his Reality, not his business. Clockwork drilled that into his head. He CAN'T keep the Multiverse together. Fight every fight for everyone, save everything. People have free will. Have to decide for THEMSELVES. Choose to do the right thing.

It doesn't mean SHIT if they don't save themselves. Wont last, in the end, because they won't have LEARNED a damn thing. He GETS that! But KIDS?! Ooooh ho ho! He DRAWS THE LINE AT KIDS! At shocking the SHIT out of him with LIGHTNING!

You want to poke the sleeping titan 'til it wakes up?

Well congrats!

YOU HAVE HIS ATTENTION NOW!

*inhale*

*Wail*

Palpatine goes through the HOLE where about fifteen walls USED to be. Half of Coruscant physically hears it and EVERYONE with even a TOUCH of Force sensitivity FEELS it. Across the entire planet and up into orbit.

Dying screams and the crackle of electricity. Regret. Fear. The desperate need to protect, in your final moment. Pain and pressure, the cool slide of Death come to take it all away. You were just fourteen. You were just fourteen! You died screaming, you came back screaming, in the place between... will you ever stop screaming?

You are the Galaxy, the Cosmos, the INFINITE. You are just a child.

How many souls died screaming?

Can't you hear ALL OF THEM?

Pissed or not, kids come first. Fuuuuuck that guy. Danny picks up the teacher, the kids, and back to the Temple they go. Teacher survives. Kids cling. Senate gets itself into a snit over the "unprovoked attack". But the thing is? A whole CLASS of Baby Jedi say the Chancellor is the Sith Lord. Look too spooked to be lying. Their teacher, too WOUNDED for this to be a prank.

The Jedi close rank.

Palpatine tries to use the Clones.

You know... the De-chipped by their Bone Bros Clones.

Commander Fox? Gets to finally, FINALLY(!!!) live out his long time fantasy... of shooting the fucker. Slug thrower. Tragically, fails to kill him. But the attempt WAS enthusiastic! We applaud his attempt. Commander Fox gets to join Danny in the Gardens, under a Crechelings pile, staring at the stain glass ceiling and Not Thinking Or Having Responsibilities.

Huh.... kid's right. This IS nice.

Fox enjoys being a climb-able lump for the Crechelings. Welcome to the club, my dude.

The other Jedi? THEY can figure it out. The Temple is literally unassailable. If needs be, his army can PICK IT UP AND MOVE IT. Danny is Vibin. Have a fruit. You hear about Skywalker? Making pretty good ground on his whole "one man and massive bone army campaign against Slavery" thing. Missed the whole.... his buddy was an asshole reveal. Apparently reception is spotty. *shrugs*

His wife's nice though! *various married Jedi agree, Obi-Wan continues to sulk because: "REALLY?! You didn't even INVITE ME!? My own Padawan! To his WEDDING! Anikin how COULD YO-!?"*

[damn-stark]

Chapter 15 I was born something

Chapter 15 of Moonlight

A/N- Soulmatism is both being called to power at the same time, one shrouded by darkness and the other illuminated by bright flames.

Warning- Swearing, talks of pregnancy and sexual harassment, ser gwayne (not bad I just want to say he's in this chapter tehe) angst!!, fluff!!, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 2x05-and the very beginning of 2x06

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

He listened to your breaths as they came and went. They’re calm, and the most sweetest song.

Worry once plagued him, it clashed into him the moment he saw you falling under that fainting spell, he was lucky to have been so close otherwise, you would have hit the ground. Yet he didn't take that as a sign of luck at that moment. His worry brought out the worst of his anger he is willing to admit, but why shouldn’t he be upset?

He saw you fall, you could have been dying, and there’s nothing that he could’ve done to prevent death from taking you away from him, so all he knew how to be was desperate. There was no other emotion that would’ve felt right, not even as the maester was checking you.

Did it help in that situation? No, you would have told him that, his mother would have told him that, but he didn’t care, he was terrified until the exact moment the maester revealed you were with child with twins. He felt a bliss wash over him at that moment, like the sun breaking through dark clouds made by a raging storm.

Yet his worry was all but gone, it lingers even still, like sprinkling rain after the worst of the storm. He admires you as you sleep, he admires the way the sun kisses your soft skin making you illuminate even more divine than you already are. He takes note of the way your eyelashes kiss your skin, and the way your lips gently rest on each other. He could watch you for hours on end, his peace in the chaos of the world, his way of life; without you, life would be dull, lifeless, bleak, black and white, boring, and almost pointless.

How could other people find a way to love someone else? Sure he seeked company in someone, it’s his greatest sin and he will never commit it again. Not even if you die. If it was his responsibility to have more children to secure his succession then he would do his duty, but he wouldn’t love her, he would think of you, your smile, your laugh, your beauty, your touch, and your enchanting song because he knows no one would ever love him like you love him.

It’s pretty foolish of you to love him after what he’s done to break your heart, but for some reason, you keep clinging onto him like when you were young. You had a chance to escape, to laugh and point with the others, but you never did, and you never have. It’s perhaps the only weakness in you, but he’s grateful, blessed, and glad that you continue to love him unconditionally.

It’s why he has to protect you. You and your son—your children.

“Aemond.”

He hears the call and looks at the intruder who barged in without warning; seeing his mother walking in with worry filtered in her big brown eyes.

“How is she?” She asks.

Aemond returns his attention to you in hopes you’ll wake soon and continues to stroke your knuckles with his thumb as he refuses to let your hand go.

“The maester said she will be fine,” Aemond shares. “It was her grief and the fact that she did not eat.”

Alicent walks down the two steps that lead to the bed and watches her son and his refusal to miss a single breath that escapes you.

“How did you tell her?” She asks with a hint of judgment clinging onto her. “I hope you did not just blurt it. She may be on our side, but the others are still her family that she loves, you need to be careful when you share such dark words.”

Aemond huffs and turns his head to pass her a brief glare that she misses as she watches you.

“Did you know?” He asks and chooses not to comment on the fact that he knows how to talk to you, he’s no imbecile. “She’s with child.”

Alicent’s brown eyes find him and he quickly looks back at you. “Yes, Helaena told me last night. She just found out, which is why I warn you that you need to be—”

“I know,” he cuts his mother off impatiently. “I know how to talk to her. I’m no fool. I’m not…mhm,” he chooses to leave Aegon out of the conversation.

“Twins, Helaena says,” Alicent chooses to ignore what was at the tip of his tongue and reaches the foot of the bed to watch Aemond and his short-lived bliss. “Congratulations. You must be happy.”

Aemond tilts his head, making his hair cascade over his shoulder and hide the faint smile that tugs on his lips, and stays while he reaches his hand over to caress your belly with a feathered touch.

Before he can express his joy, or give any positive reaction at all, he takes a deep breath as if the next words that are coming out of him are going to hurt to say, causing his happiness to dimishness as worry makes itself plain to see.

“One…twin is smaller than the other the maester says,” he says in a voice that’s so rare for Alicent to hear nowadays. “What does that mean?”

He looks over at his mother for help, for reassurance that it will be fine. As if her words were the salvation.

“Just that,” she tries to comfort Aemond’s worry that begins to ache her own heart even if she tries hard to fight it. “Sometimes it tends to happen with twins, one takes more than the other, but,” she breathes out deeply and looks at you with more worry than she offered her son. “It’s still early, it will resolve.”

Aemond’s eye stays on his mother to take in more comfort but when he finds none his eyes return to you and tries to believe the little help his mother offered with a faint smile—No, he smirks now and this time Alicent doesn’t miss it.

“This war will take a lot from us, but my children will be the future of my house. I will make sure of it,” he says, making Alicent’s lips twitch to a frown while her eyebrows knit together with conflict brought by his choice of words.

A gleam proceeds to catch her eyes and when she locates where it comes from, she sees Aegon’s Valyrian steel dagger strapped to his belt as if it was a trophy he won and needed to show off to everyone who had eyes.

“Be easy on her,” Alicent musters as she breathes out her conflict. “And don’t involve her in your warpath, Aemond.”

He scoffs but doesn’t counter, he instead interjects softly. “She won’t be happy about it.”

Alicent chuckles breathlessly. “No, she will not, it seems she inherited her ferocity from both parts of her family.”

He hums and slides his hand away from your belly to cup your hand with both of his large hands to be able to bring your hand up and kiss your knuckles.

“She won’t wake,” Aemond mutters ever so softly with a hint of desperation that escapes as if asking for help without outright expressing it at this moment where it’s just her and him.

“Give her time,” she offers him some console. “The maester said she will be fine, so she shall. She’s lost a lot in a short time…it’s not easy. “

Aemond answers with silence whilst he brings your hand down to rest it on the bed without letting it actually escape from the security of his hold.

“My Prince,” a third visitor interjects in the silence and steals the attention of both Aemond and Alicent. “King Aegon’s carriage is approaching the city.”

At the mention, Aemond sits up straight, and that softness that his features were cast under slowly hardens just as he gives the guard a response. “Let me know when he’s reached the Red Keep.”

Alicent watches the guard take in Aemond’s demand without hesitance before he takes off, leaving her troubled by her conflict as she watches her son act too unbothered by what befell his brother.

He should be furious, but his rage is missing. He should be overcome with worry that his King and older brother was wounded in battle, but his worry is just placed on you and you alone.

——

*YOU*

She was there, the day you touched the clouds for the first time. She was there when you knew nothing was better than being a part of the never-ending sky. She was there because the first dragon you ever rode was Meleys.

“My mother was seven years old when she first took to the skies,” you remember pointing out with disappointment because you just turned seven and you could not mount your dragon yet. You were too young, your mother said.

You never realized then that she was just protecting you, after all the sickness that plagued you since you were a babe had barely been expelled from your body, she just wanted to make sure that nothing took you from her just as she was assured you would live a long life after all.

Nevertheless, that disappointment was short-lived, your grandmother had made sure of that.

“Actually I talked to your mother and guess what?” She began to tease you while you caressed Meleys’ snout much to your dragon's jealousy.

“What is it?” You’re too impatient to play.

A smile brightens her face before she gives you the answer. “You can fly with me. I know it’s not the same as flying your own dragon, but that time will come soon. As for now, we can mount Meleys together and we can take to the skies together as a name day present from me.”

You remember the joy that overcame you at that moment. Sure you still wanted to mount your own dragon, but her offer did satisfy that desire. It is like having a snack when you’re hungry, it does not fulfill you but it does keep you satisfied for a while. That’s how it was. You were satisfied at that moment, you were happy to be in the sky. It was the best moment of your life, you knew you would die happy if death had chosen to take you that day.

It was an exaggeration, of course, you realized that not long after, but you were only seven then and you were in the clouds for the first time. You could finally stop imagining how they felt because you could feel the moistness soak your fingertips as you tried to reach them while Meleys ascended higher. And when she was lost within the fluffy white clouds, the water soaked your face, but you did not care. You were carefree.

Nothing occupied your mind at that moment, nothing worried you. You felt as weightless as the clouds, and you beamed as bright as the sun in the sky. Your dreams hadn’t come true yet, you needed to take to the skies on the back of your own dragon, but the gift of flying for the first time was all thanks to her. She gave you that experience, she made you happy at that moment and never failed to make you happy as you got older. She never stopped protecting you…but…you did fail her.

You’re in King’s Landing for a reason, aren’t you? To report to your family the war plans, the comings and goings of the most valuable members in the Green faction, the decisions that are made around the council table, and any other plans that the Green council may have. You’re here to warn your family so they can get an advantage, so they can get closer to the throne, so they don’t run such a high risk of getting wounded or dying. But your grandmother died regardless.

You failed her, you failed them. You failed at the one thing you were supposed to do and now you lost someone else you love. And the crazy thing is that you don’t hate or blame Aemond for what happened, you blame yourself.

The weight of guilt lies on you because you couldn’t do the one thing you were supposed to do. Because no matter how hard you try you can’t be something valuable. That’s all you wanted, that’s why you left in the first place, to prove to your mother that you could be reliable, that you can be a fierce warrior, that you aren’t just a princess in a castle, and that you can be so much more. You wanted to be so much more, prove to her that you can be important, valuable, and fierce. That part of you is there, you wanted to show her that, but your grandmother died, and with her lies that fight. You feel like nothing now…

Daemon would be so mad…and you shouldn't care what he has to think about you, but how can you not after you failed so miserably? After your grandmother died and her dragon along with her?

You’re mad at yourself—no, you’re furious at yourself. If you had been better perhaps she would still be alive.

“Ready?” You tug yourself away from your train of thought and focus on Aerion before you grab a raw piece of meat from the bowl beside you, and place it down in front of his hatchling.

“Shrykos, <Dracarys>,” you command.

Shrykos tilts her little head before blinking and glancing at Aerion as if waiting for the okay. But your son can’t answer, he just watches Shrykos, and the hatchling watches him.

“Shrykos, <Dracarys>,” you repeat the command, making the hatchling now look at the piece of meat in front of her before she opens her mouth and lets out a small blast of fire.

Aerion watches the fire engulf the small piece of meat, the way the flames come out of his dragon's mouth to cook the meat and he can’t help but giggle and wave his fat little arms.

“<Good job, Shrykos,>” you praise the hatchling.

Aerion’s head turns to you and he coos, making a smile spread on your mournful face. “Shrykos,” you repeat to your son, making him study you before he coos after you as if trying to say his dragon's name too.

“Yes!” You clap. “She’s your dragon. Shrykos.”

Aerion coos the same way again and his dragon this time scurries over to him to sit in between his legs.

“Your mother would be delighted to see the way he interacts with his dragon,” Vanessa comments, making you smile wider.

“She would,” you muse and reach over to try and caress your son's head, but you must have reached out to him too quickly because suddenly Shrykos snaps her head towards you and shrieks out at you.

“<Whoa,>” you gasp in surprise yet also awe because she’s grown to be so protective in such a short time. Jacaerys was right, having Aerion bond with a dragon can protect him in ways some guards can’t.

“<It's okay. Calm down, girl.>” You try to ease her worry. “<Calm.>”

The dragon’s eyes don’t leave you for a solid minute, she watches you carefully until Aerion starts to cry.

“She meant no harm,” you assure him as you’re able to grab him now and bring him up with you as you stand to your given height, causing the hatchling to flap her delicate wings to perch herself on your shoulder and remain close to Aerion.

“It’s okay,” you continue to try to console him before you wipe away his tears and press a kiss on his cheek.

Shrykos watches the interaction and stretches her neck out to coo softly at Aerion as if trying to mimic you in calming him down.

“See? She’s just worried about you,” you tell Aerion, and he sniffles just seconds before his attention focuses on the pendant that you found around your neck after you woke up.

“Of course,” you mutter with an amused smile and watch him grab your pendant before he yanks it back towards him, pulling a gasp out of your mouth. “Gods.”

Aerion pulls the pendant to his mouth but you grab his hand and shake your head. Yet before you can pull the pendant away, the doors open and snatch your attention to your husband walking in and coming to an immediate halt when he sees you on your feet.

“Aemond,” you greet him with a faint smile.

Said man takes a step forward and his eye studies you hard as if making sure you’re really there, that you’re not some ghost set out to bid a last goodbye; while also trying to figure out if your smile directed at him is real or feigned. After all, you both know who brought down Meleys and your grandmother. It wasn’t Aegon you both knew that.

Yet no matter how hard or how long his eye remains fixated on you, that sweet smile doesn’t falter or fade, that smile on your face turns to a grin actually.

“What is it?” You break him from his stupor whilst also trying to tug your pendant away from Aerion’s mouth.

“You…” Aemond trails off and finally breaks away from the cast your mere presence put him under to close the distance that keeps you apart. “You should be abed. Not on your feet.”

You roll your eyes and approach Vanessa to hand Aerion to her, causing the little hatchling to disembark your shoulder and instead fly over to Vanessa’s.

“I’m fine,” you direct at Aemond as you turn to face him and find your body moving toward him. ��I ate, I—”

“Vanessa,” Aemond snaps at your handmaiden with a glower that you get in between.

“Stop, don’t snap at her, talk to me,” you ease the worry you see weighing down on him.

Aemond’s eye flickers to you, but he also wants to scold Vanessa for not keeping you abed where you’ll be safe so he parts his lips to argue, but you finally meet him halfway and grab his arm, focusing all his attention back to you as if you were the center of the universe.

“Leave her be. I stood up, you know that. I am not an invalid, I just should've been more careful,” you add to your case. “But I ate. I’m feeling stronger already.”

His chest rises high as he takes in a deep frustrated breath before he lets it all go and is left with worry.

Before you can continue to address the matter at hand though, you turn your attention to Vanessa. “Take him to Helaena and Jaehaera, she has Morghul out too, he and Shrykos can bond.”

Vanessa nods and doesn’t linger behind, she leaves your quarters rather quickly, leaving you to face your husband and slide your hand down his arm to grab his hand.

“I’m fine,” you tell him one more. “The news just didn’t settle well, plus I was on an empty stomach, it all just overwhelmed me, but I’m fine…we’re fine,” you finish in a whisper and pull his hand toward you to press his palm against your belly.

“I’m sure the maester broke the news,” you continue with a proud smile that he misses because he watches your intertwined hands caressing the spot where your twins are growing.

“Twins,” he whispers with no worry clinging to his voice, it's soft and full of awe just like his eye.

“That’s why I haven’t been feeling hungry, and why I’ve been uncomfortable,” you address the matter. “They’re the reason.”

Aemond’s eye goes to you and now endearment also accompanies the already sweet feelings his eye expresses. You want to follow up with more, but your lips part, and a single breath escapes past your lips as you stand there feeling seen, appreciated, and loved under his gaze, but also feeling worry and guilt strike your heart as he looks at you.

You want to share it, you want to spill out what troubles you, but your words get caught in your throat when Aemond goes down on one knee and presses a gentle kiss on your belly before he rests his forehead against it.

Now at this very moment, the tension of war is forgotten completely. You exist only in your bliss.

“I wanted to tell you. I had half the mind to fly to Rook’s Rest the moment I found out to tell you, but I resisted my urge,” you share as you swing your arm around his head to caress it gently as he keeps his forehead pressed against your belly. “So can you just pretend I told you and that the maester didn’t ruin it?”

He chuckles softly and tilts his head up to meet your gaze as he remains on one knee. “He also told me about one of them being smaller than the other.” He brings up and the blissful paradise comes crumbling down as the guilt and the worry return.

“Yes, he told me too…” you trail off and gulp. “I-I don’t know what that means. He said he’ll monitor me, but…I’m scared.”

Aemond pushes himself up to tower over you again and grabs your face with a gentle touch as if he's afraid he’ll break you if he's too rough.

“My mother said it happens,” he now comes to your aid even if he doesn’t really know either. “They’ll get stronger and be equal after a while.”

You don’t find comfort in Alicent’s words, you need to hear them from your mother or read her own words to feel completely comforted.

“Ok,” your voice trembles. “Aemond,” you say and grab his hands. “I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows pinch together so you quickly respond to his confusion. “If being with child is an inconvenience right now. Everything is so chaotic, I’m sorry if I have become a burden—”

“Quiet,” he cuts you off and pulls you to him. “Shut up. You are the furthest thing from a burden or an inconvenience. Don’t apologize. Don’t torment yourself. We are blessed. That’s all. The risks you’ll take are just fewer now, but it seems you and Helaena have found more comfort in each other so you won’t be bored here.”

You blink and that worry falls, he helped resolve it. The guilt has diminished as well, but now you’re completely baffled by what he says.

You won’t just sit by the fire, you may be with child, but you will not just sit idly by while he risks his life, while your brother is out there, and while your family still needs you too. Just because you’re expecting doesn’t mean you have to sit and wait like a trapped princess in distress!

“No,” you spat and let his hands go. He sees the fire already engulfing your eyes so he pouts in annoyance whilst he lets your face go too.

“I will not—”

“I will not sit here and wait for you to come back,” you cut him off lividly. “I have a dragon, I have skill! Just because I’m with child—”

“That’s exactly why!” He argues back with quick-growing frustration. “Do you really expect me to send you to fight while you’re expecting?! Do you really think I can just watch you in the sky knowing your state?! It’s like you said…”

You shake your head and turn away as he continues.

“…it takes one arrow, a dragon's jaw, or fire…”

Your eyes shift at the last mention and you almost want to rebuttal with the truth of your…fire resistance, but that would take you down a rabbit hole that you don’t want to fall into at this very moment. You need to make a point and win.

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you or the twins,” he tries to lure you into the trap using sweet words that usually work. “I would not feel comfortable sending you out to battle now.”

“That’s the difference between me and you,” you counter right away and twist around to face him. “I will wear armor! I had armor made for me, I can protect myself! My dragon will protect me! I will not sit here and do nothing while you are out there! While Sunfyre and Aegon are now indisposed!”

Aemond strides to you, and you stand your ground and challenge him with your enraged glare alone.

“I don’t care what you want or don’t want, you are not going to fight on dragonback or on the ground,” he counters back spitefully with his nose flared and his glare piercing right back at you. “If you try I will lock you in here with a hundred guards. Or I will take you to a tower where you can’t reach your dragon and you’ll be miles away.”

You part your lips but you can’t argue back, you’re caught in disbelief because you know he would be capable of doing that. You’re also too enraged that your words turn to ashes in your mouth by the stupid tears that come to your eyes. Thus instead you snap around to give him your back as you approach the hearth keeping the room warm, and watch the dancing flames with your arms crossed over your chest.

Aemond sighs deeply and leaves the room silent for a moment as he lets his frustration and impatience leave his body before he approaches you from behind.

At first, he breaks the silence with the soft utter of your name before he makes the mistake of brushing his fingertips on your hip, causing you to flinch away out of fear that it was someone else.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters in confusion to your sudden jolt.

You realize what you did and take a deep breath, realizing that your rage gets snuffed out like dying fire.

At first, you did not think you wanted to tell Aemond what Aegon did, but he’s here now, you look at him now; the confusion on his face. You look at your best friend, your husband, and the man that you love, and the words crawl up your throat like bile.

“Aemond,” you whimper and his confusion is lost and replaced by concern once again.

The sound of your lips parting fills your chambers, but a breath is all that comes out. You can’t be outward with it, you’re too afraid, too ashamed, so you close the distance and bring your lips to his ear.

He does look at you completely puzzled albeit that soon diminishes and slowly transforms into livid rage as you whisper the words in his ear. After that, you only pull back when you try to plead your case as if he didn’t believe you right away. He did, you just need him to know desperately.

“I told him to stop, I did, I promise, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. You have to believe me, Aemond.” You cry and he sighs, but that anger doesn’t die, he just musters the softness he can to gently cup your face before he slides his hand down to stroke your chin.

“I believe you,” he whispers so you can hear, and presses his forehead against yours.

“I wanted to fight back,” you keep trying to tell him. “I promise. I…I.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he coos and brings his hand back up to cradle your cheek and use his thumb to stroke it. “You will be okay.”

He suddenly rips himself away from you and stomps away. You turn to not miss a step and notice him grab his sword while he gets away in a rage, thus you interfere because you know he’s letting his anger steer his thoughts. “Aemond stop!”

He doesn’t falter in his pace, he keeps storming away.

“Aemond!” You cry out. “Stop! Aemond! Please,” you beg and it’s that quiver in your voice that stops him.

“Do you really expect me to stay here knowing what—”

“Stay with me,” you cut him off to tell him what you need the most. “Please don’t go. Just stay.”

Aemond slowly turns around and when he faces you he sees how hard you’re pleading with your teary eyes, and how much you need just his company. Not his rage, not his revenge, just his comfort. His anger does want to get the best of him, but he beats it down with a deep breath and rests his blade against the wall to go to you and immediately wrap you in an embrace.

When you’re surrounded by nothing but the security of his warm arms you let yourself melt in his embrace because you know that nothing and no one can hurt you there.

“Let’s take a bath, hm?” He suggests as he kisses the top of your head. “Me and you.”

You nod softly and after depleting him of all the comfort you need, as the sun leaves the earth and lets the moon and the stars shine, you have a bath drawn where hundreds of candles enlighten the room with their soft glow. Where a soothing incense fills the room, and the warm flames from the hearth near your bath is a warm third body that keeps you company while you relax against Aemond.

“And that one is my favorite song, there’s a certain eeriness to it, but also an enchanting melody that I love,” you muse as you cross one leg over the other.

Aemond hums. “Those have always been my favorite for you to sing,” he muses.

You smile widely, and slither your fingers over his gently caressing your knee, welcoming a silence to the room that causes Aemond to grow uncomfortable yet bold enough to ask one question he’s been holding back out of fear that you will admit that you hate him now, or that you’re only here because of Aerion.

He doesn’t want to hear rejection or see you turn your back on him. He still needs you and he doesn’t want to face potential abandonment. But he also can’t sleep peacefully not knowing how you feel after what he did.

“Can I ask you something?” Aemond brings up quietly before saying your name as if there were more people in this chamber. But there isn’t, it’s just you and him.

“Mhm,” you let him continue and lay your head back on his shoulder to look at him from the corner of your eyes.

“You know it was not Sunfyre or Aegon who brought down Rhaenys or Meleys,” he hesitates to say but he does speak it out loud, and right away he feels how stiff you grow.

“I…know,” you breathe out and slowly sit up, losing contact with his fingers, and causing his fingers on your knee to slip off. “I could read it off you. You weren’t so discreet you know? Maybe you should be a little less smug if you’re going to let Aegon take the win.”

He hums and sits up to press his hand on your back before gently wrapping his arm around your neck to speak by your ear. “Do you…hate me?”

How could you hate him when it’s yourself that you hate for failing her?

There’s no point in thinking. No debate needs to be had, it’s an easy answer that comes from the depths of your wounded heart.

“No,” you whisper, leaving no time for him to doubt your response. “Should I?”

You turn to face him with sincerity bringing tears to your eyes. “I don’t hate you.”

Aemond’s arm slips off you and his eye falls on the water, but rather than trying hard to find his gaze, you actually find his reflection in the water and see a frown on his face; one brought by sorrow and torment over your response.

It’s like he almost wants you to hate him.

“It’s different this time,” you try to explain without bringing up the real reason behind your logic. “She wasn’t a messenger, she wasn’t trying to get away, it was a battle. Death is never fair for people like her, she did not deserve to die, but her death was different because I know that she wouldn’t want to go out any other way. She went out like a dragon warrior. I know she fought hard until her last breath.”

Aemond’s eye climbs up your body and finds your attentive gaze, letting you see his eye clouded with tears and that weight not ease off his body, so you drag yourself in between his legs to cup his cheek and offer him a faint assuring smile.

“I do not hate you,” you assure him and hold his gaze so he can read that you’re being sincere.

When he has the confirmation his heart needs he lets out a deep breath that makes that tension lift off his chest.

“Now,” you change the subject before you start crying, and slide your hand down to hold his knee and gently shake his leg. “You are going to be Prince Regent.”

His lips tug to a faint flustered smile and his eye once again falls on the water.

“Grin, my love, all your hard work will pay off,” you flatter him with a beaming grin. “All that time spent in books, learning from great minds, and working tirelessly will be rewarded.”

Do you really think he has the mind to rule?

Maybe if he hadn't gotten his eye taken out, or if he had seen his father care for him after being maimed then he would be the ruler the Greens need to win, that the kingdoms need, but he’s fueled with anger. His ego is inflated because he never got told that he’s so much more than he knows, so he had to rely on his large dragon for power.

It’s not to say you aren’t proud of him, because you are. He’s worked hard, he’s leaned into his books to gain knowledge. He has a military mind and good swordsman skills. He's the one keeping his family alive, and he has much more logic than Aegon, but a good ruler needs to be more than that.

A good ruler needs to listen to his people, they need to be just but also need to know when to put their foot down. They need to control their emotions even if sometimes they get tested by idiots or people being too daring. They need to know when to pull their blade out to fight, and when to use harsh words instead. Can he do that?

You can’t be sure. To be honest, you are not sure he can, but it’s why he can be the key to getting your mother on the throne.

Is he something important, something so much more that people don’t see? Yes, a hundred times yes. You don’t doubt that, you genuinely are happy that he’s being seen, that he gets to finally prove himself because you know that there’s so much more to him that people don’t see, that they ignore because he’s a second son, and he’s more quiet, like a shadow.

He’s not scary or just intimidating like he lets people believe, he’s smart, he's gentle, he’s so much more than people see and you have always known that. You have always supported that. And that’s what you’re praising, because after all this waiting he’s no longer in the shadows. A light is shining on him. He deserves it.

“Maybe,” Aemond mutters with his smile faltering. “There’s also my mother. She’s Queen Dowager.”

You sit back on your legs and your confusion is clear. “But,” you genuinely argue. “Your mother ruled in a time of peace, and she has no military mind. They couldn’t really consider her. It’s you they’ll pick.”

Aemond meets your gaze and sighs deeply. “I cannot be sure until the morrow.”

You hum and avert your gaze to think if the men around the table will really pick Alicent over the next heir in Aegon's line of succession. It would be pretty stupid to pick Alicent when they’re working hard to remove your mother.

“Well, I'm sure they’ll pick you,” you express your genuine opinion. “They’ll be stupid not to. And you have an heir, maybe more on the way. Perfect choice I’ll say.”

His lips tug up to a soft smile, and your more negative opinions falter at the sight of that smile alone.

“And you,” he piques your interest whilst he leans over to capture your chin in between his thumb and his pointer finger. “You’ll be Princess Regent.”

You gulp nervously and shake your head. “Helaena is alive and healthy, I couldn’t be Princess Regent.” You contradict him, but he continues to press his side.

“My sister is sweet and good, but,” he sighs. “We all know she has no mind to be Queen, she’d rather be outside with her bugs than be anywhere near court, but you…you’re smart, fierce, attentive, and you have the mind to be a good Queen. The people love you and you care for them for some reason. You’ll be good.”

And there it is, your foundations shake at the sound of those sweet words that work like bait like magic to enchant you.

He would consider you, and that makes you consider a change of thought…

Like getting drunk, slowly your mind and your body start to lose yourself to its rich power.

“You think so?” You mumble softly with your eyes full of desperation to be told you can be so much more.

“I know it. You and I would be a powerhouse everyone would respect,” he doesn’t take back his opinion and it’s a dangerous thing. He needs to stop.

Stop.

Stop…

But you can’t help but smile like an idiot as your heart gets fed more of that addicting honey it can never get enough of. It’s all you ever wanted deep down. it’s a dream you even shared with Cregan and Arra…

But…no!

No! No…

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

“They will name you regent,” you try to reassure him as you fix the collar of his leather vest. “I know it. So head up high and deep breath.”

He holds your gaze as he lets out a deep breath, making you giggle as you slide your hands down to pat his chest.

“I love you,” you don’t fret to send him off with sweet words that make his heart swoon.

“I love you too,” he doesn’t hesitate to return before he leans in and presses a kiss on your lips.

Before he can back away you steal one more kiss from his thin lips, causing him to leave with a faint smile.

After a few minutes of lingering in the spot where he left you, you scurry out the secret door and trudge through the secret tunnels to reach the shadows of the Small council room and be part of the big debate that will change the Green fraction one way or the other.

“The armor was Valyrian steel,” Maester Orwyle shares with the council. “But his Grace suffered grievous burns over much of his body. He has many broken bones. I fear there are more injuries within, injuries we cannot see.”

He can die for all you care.

“We are grateful for your works, Grand Maester,” Alicent interjects after you catch her take in a deep breath. “Has he woken?”

“No,” the maester doesn’t try to be assuring, he’s bold so no one gets any hope he might survive. “I must admit, I’m not sure he will ever wake. I have piled my crafts to their fullest extents. Our king's fate lies with the gods now.”

And may the gods be ever so merciful to give him death.

“A king cannot rule in his sleep,” you hear Alicent say after a few seconds of silence. “The realm will have noticed his absence. Let them hear of his great deeds at Rook’s Rest. But now we must name a regent to take his place until he recovers…or does not.”

You lean your ear closer to the gaps on the wall and wait to see if Aemond is right.

“A wise strategy, Your Grace,” you recognize Lord Larys’ pestering voice. “A regency will assure the people of the stability of the crown.”

A silence follows and you wonder why it’s so awkward in there when the choice is plain to see.

“Did you have a candidate in mind, Your Grace?” Ser Tyland asks.

“I myself served in this role for my husband, I am well-prepared to do it again,” she proves Aemond right, and if you would have bet you would have lost.

“You played your part admirably in a time of peace, Your Grace,” Lord Jasper weighs in. “But circumstances have changed.”

“And here I had forgotten,” you catch the sarcasm in Alicent’s voice which does amuse you.

“The King does not lack for heirs,” Lord Jasper continues to argue against Alicent. “The obvious choice is his immediate successor, Prince Aemond, who has his own heir in his son, strengthening the line of succession.”

“Agreed,” Ser Tyland comments, making your heart skip a beat for Aemond.

“Aemond is young,” Alicent immediately rebuttals, causing your eyebrows to furrow because you all know there’s been younger Kings. “And his lack of restraint has already cost us dearly.”

A third silence follows and you suspect it’s because she wants people to agree with her, but it doesn’t seem like anyone does. Which is awkward, you can feel that tension from where you are.

“It is an experience that offers the surest path to security,” you hear the maester give his opinion. “Queen Alicent ably shouldered the duties of the realm when her husband's health failed him.”

Once again in a time of peace, it doesn’t seem like she has a military mind. And someone could argue that your mother doesn’t either, but you know her, she’s smart and leans on her books. She doesn’t need her father like Alicent needed hers.

“Experience is valuable, yes,” Lord Jasper interjects. “But the Dowager Queen is a woman.”

You almost have to laugh but you hold it in. It’s so poetic really.

“I’m no stranger to rule or to sitting at this council,” Alicent argues. “Aemond is a fearsome dragonrider. His skill is best employed in the field, but my experience is needed here, at this table—”

“No offense was meant, Your Grace,” Ser Tyland cuts her off as she’s growing frustrated. “But at a time when we must show strength.”

“Lord Larys,” she tries to garner the man’s support.

“I agree, Your Grace, it must be Prince Aemond,” he contradicts her. “What would it say if, in response to Rhaenyra’s crowning, we raised up a woman of our own?”

Oh sweet, sweet karma.

“But, um…the Hand speaks for the King’s voice, Ser Criston what say you?”

You start to fiddle with your hands as a smirk tugs on your face.

“Aemond is the next in line,” he adds salt to the injury. “It must be him.”

You can’t help it, you grin.

“It’s agreed then,” Aemond finally breaks his silence before you hear the sound of him rising from his chair and his heels clicking around the table.

And just like that he is now regent, Alicent has now been treated the way she treated your mother. The Green fraction has changed to a more Ironfist rule. You can be certain of that.

“What is our standing in the Riverlands?” Aemond jumps right into business, proving already to possess a better mind than Aegon ever did.

“Uh, the banners of House Tully are in disarray, Your Grace,” Ser Tyland is the one who gives Aemond the answer he sought, and the first one to call him your Grace, which brings a chill down your spine. “Prince Daemon has little hope of fielding an army or any, for now.”

Why do they doubt Daemon so much? Is it just that they hope that their negativity will help him fail?

You don’t like him, and you know he has the power to gain that army, you know he will.

“We would do well to send word to young Oscar Tully,” Lord Larys follows up with his comment. “It’s only a matter of time before he inherits his grandsire’s mantle.”

“Tell me, Lord Strong, how I can trust the counsel of a man who leaves the jewel of the Riverlands to be plucked by our enemy?”

You wait for the response from the Lord, but he gives none, and you couldn’t be more smug that he didn’t and that he’s most likely intimidated by Aemond.

“Your brother's host can meet Daemon,” Aemond changes the subject to now speak to Ser Tyland. “He should quicken its pace and check the Rivermen while their banners are in disarray.”

No matter what you can’t help but be proud of Aemond. Command suits him.

“I shall send Lord Jason encouragement,” Ser Tyland assures Aemond.

“What else?” Aemond probes.

“We might turn our attention to the smallfolk here in King’s Landing,” Maester Orweyle says. “They have grown weary of the Sea Snake’s blockade.”

“So have we all,” Aemond says nonchalantly.

“Many are fleeing the city,” the maester continues. “Spreading word of their fear and unrest.”

“Mm, then let the gates be closed,” Aemond picks the wrong choice which proves you right too. “No one is to leave or enter, save with our consent. Merchants, so forth.”

And that’s how you get the smallfolk to hate you. He’s supposed to assure them, feed them, and give them something to hope for, not fear and disdain. Hopefully, your mother can work that in her favor.

“Ser Criston,” Aemond calls out. “I need you to pick three of your best and most trusted men. I shall have two guarding my son and heir, and a second guard protecting my wife. She’s with child, I don’t wish to leave her vulnerable.”

Your breath catches and your heart skips a beat.

It is going to be harder to just be around the Red Keep, but you are happy he didn’t forget about you or Aerion.

“Go to your tasks,” Aemond then abruptly ends the meeting. “We shall meet again at first light. Oh, and someone cut down the fucking ratcatchers.”

Finally! You thought it was never going to be taken down, it’s such a nasty display.

Nevertheless, now to report to your mother. And since Aemond did mention he was going to be busy after the Small council meeting, you have time to take the message to Astraea so she can go take it right away. Plus there’s another matter you need to entrust your mother about because she's the only one you trust to give you comfort.

Which is why in the second letter you write, you make sure to direct to your mother.

“Dear Rhaenyra,

As you know I am with child. The maester assured me of that not long ago, but he also told me something else. He said that one twin is smaller than the other, and honestly, that frightens me. Alicent said it could be fixed in time, but I don’t trust her, and I don’t know what it really means. I just want to know if they’ll be okay. I need them to be okay.”

You don’t sign your name, but there’s no one else who would write to her so there’s no need to really sign your name. Hopefully, this time they write back though, or send anything in return so you’re not left worried. You made sure to point that out so hopefully they listen.

And! Hopefully, Jacaerys’ nosy ass doesn’t read your personal letter to your mother!

He would dare, he would be so protective about it, like, “come home now!” It’s a surprise he didn’t fly after you when he found out you left! Sure you feel bad for leaving him behind, but he has Baela, he won’t be alone. He’ll just be worried about you, annoying too because he wants to hear any news from you, and he will also probably be attentive to any sighting of Astraea in hopes to hear any news from you, so maybe you should write a warning to keep him out.

You should, but you don’t, just like you don’t take the secret tunnels to the cove where Astraea is resting. You’re simply going to the cove behind the castle to visit your dragon, that's all! If there’s eyes on you they won’t find you suspicious, you’re not flaunting the letters; you have them hidden, and you have your sworn protector trailing behind you. There’s no need for alarm or whispers to be spread or given to Aemond, it’s a simple visit…

You just need to secure something on her horn.

Yet as you’re trying to secure the letters, she suddenly slips her head away and starts to growl at your sworn protector in the shadows.

“<Astraea, calm girl,” you assure her. “He’s a friend. He’s my sworn protector. It’s alright.>”

Astraea doesn’t listen; she pushes herself closer to the man, making sure to block your path with her large neck.

“<Astraea,>” you warn her. “<Stop.>”

Her growling gets louder and you see her opening her jaw, pushing Ser Jason against the wall with panicked breaths.

“It’s alright Ser,” you try to assure him. “She won’t harm you. She’s just wary, but <he’s a friend>,” you address the last comment to Astraea, but she has a mind of her own. She corners the man and you watch her nostrils flare as she sniffs him.

“Astraea,” you call out and try to inch closer, but the moment she hears your feet shift she moves her neck against you and starts to snarl until she then suddenly grows quiet, and her neck starts to move away from you, letting you see her close her mouth, and blink as her pupils dilate while she looks at the panicked man before her.

Instead of calling her to back away, you watch with growing curiosity as she then begins to coo at him.

Ser Jason notices the hostility slip away so between pants and with wide eyes he slowly raises his hand and carefully reaches out for her scaled nostril.

You expect your dragon to move, but she remains where she is and lets the man pet her, pulling a surprised breath out of you.

“You,” you huff with relief that she didn’t kill him. “Must be special.”

Ser Jason’s blue eyes snap to you and his eyes almost pop out of his skull before he shakes his head. “No—I mean I am a—”

“She likes you,” you cut off his nervous rambling with a sweet smile. “Funny way of showing it, but she does. She let you pet her. There’s only a few people who aren’t of Valyrian descent that she lets pet her.”

Ser Jason’s eyes slowly drift away as his hand slips off Astraea, letting her back away and turn her head towards you to focus on you.

“<You naughty girl,>” you taunt her and watch her lips spread up as if she’s responding to your comment and smile with a smirk. “Sorry,” you direct at Ser Jason. “For the fright.”

The knight lets out a deep breath to relieve himself of that fear that he was just hit with, and with a breathless laugh, retorts, “I can finally say I have touched a dragon. It’s fine.”

You hum softly in return and once and for all attach the letters to your dragon's horn before you throw your arms around her in an attempt to embrace her. But she’s too big now, your arms don’t go around her anymore, they're just spread out against her in an attempt.

“<You know what you must do, my girl. Remember just my mother, Jace, Baela, or my grandfather can grab the letters. No one else. Don’t delay and be careful.>”

Lady Arra Norrey always poked fun at you for talking to your dragon like you talk to a person, but dragons understand more than commoners know, and Astraea understands you at a deep level.

“<Now go.>” You send her off and don’t move away, you approach the shore to watch her ascend the skies.

It’s once she’s high in the clouds that you return inside, and this time rather than having a clear path, you’re interrupted just at the last courtyard before you can reach the doors. Thankfully it’s on your way back to your quarters though and not the other way around.

“Princess,” Ser Gwayne Hightower brings you to a stop, making you take a deep and annoyed breath before you turn to face him with a plastered smile.

“Ser,” you greet and watch him bow his head at you before he finishes approaching you to be closer. “You returned.”

That’s all, you’re not glad he did, you’re not surprised either, he just returned, it’s that simple.

“Thanks to your favor,” he retorts smugly, making you scoff.

“Me or a few other pretty ladies?” You remark, making him flash you a charming grin before he chuckles and nods.

“Oh yes many did give me their favors,” he doesn’t remain modest, he’s blunt and that makes an amused smile twitch on your lips unwillingly. “But only one worked in my favor. The only one close to the gods, yours, my Princess.”

You hold his gaze as you nod in comprehension before you hide your flattered smile by looking at the ground.

“I heard you are quite a spectacular singer,” he continues trying to work his charm on you. “The Siren of Driftmark. I have wanted to hear if it’s true that your voice is as enchanting as they say.”

You draw in a deep breath and clasp your hands together before you roll your eyes up to look at him with a mischievous smirk that he starts to take in his favor. Yet…

“Was it your idea to parade around the head of my grandmother's dragon throughout the city?” You bring a cold end to his flattery and make that ever-so-charming smile fall.

“No,” he clears his throat and shifts back, making your own smirk deepen. “It was Ser Criston Cole’s.”

“Our good Lord Hand,” you both say in sync and with the same level of sarcasm, bringing a silence where you both share a teasing smile as if you were friends sharing gossip.

“He may have a good military mind,” he shares with you after a small genuine smile. “But may the gods help him with political matters.”

You hum and nod. “It seems the realm was in better hands with your father as hand and Ser Criston as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.”

“I’ll say.” He doesn’t shy away from agreeing. “Uh, I heard of your accident, I do hope you are okay.” He changes the subject smoothly, causing you to blink in surprise and find yourself answering without disdain.

“Quite, being with child just takes a toll. Thank you, Ser.”

He bows his head and just as he parts his lips to add more, a third voice cuts in. “Uncle.”

You both look at the incomer and notice Aemond with his eye locked on his uncle.

“Nephew,” Ser Gwayne greets Aemond with a smile, unlike Aemond who seems bothered—“I was just talking to the Princess. You have quite the pretty pearl here.”

You swallow back nervously and watch Aemond’s chest rise whilst the corner of his lips twitch to a forced smile.

“And you are expecting!” Ser Gwayne brings up and leans toward Aemond to pat his arm. “Congratulations, nephew.”

Aemond offers him a stiff nod of his head so you cut in. “Thank you, Ser. He is the most delighted.”

Aemond hums and remains cold and bothered so you cut this conversation short before you’re swallowed by the awkwardness that begins to build. “I hope we get to see more of you before you’re off again, maybe you can meet our son, Aerion.”

“Ah, yes I would be delighted, my sister speaks fondly of her grandchildren. I will have to see them for myself,” Ser Gwayne says in return, letting you offer him the first genuine smile before you turn and head inside with Aemond who keeps his jaw clenched and his eye narrowed.

“What…were you talking about?” Aemond tries to hide how jealous he is, but it's a futile attempt considering it’s written all over his face; in his flared nostrils, in the darkness in his eye that is brought up by annoyance and anger, and in his raised chest in attempts to try and insert his dominance over you.

Any other time you would find it amusing, it's his uncle and he can’t help but be jealous, but right now you’re bothered by something else entirely that you won’t let go unheard of.

“<The nasty parade that took place while I was abed,>” you take your opportunity to bring up without actually deflecting because it’s true, the topic was brought up.

But of course, he doesn’t answer, do you let it go though? No, you don't back off even if you see him wanting to avoid the topic, you press the matter with growing frustration.

“<When do people stop fearing gods, Aemond?>” You ask rhetorically. “<When they see gods bleed. They saw that dragon's head being paraded around the city and saw that they’re just like every other animal.>”

“<They're not,” Aemond scoffs back in High Valyrian, just like you. “<They can test it if they like, let’s see what fate awaits from them then.>”

You share a dry chuckle and only counter when you’re past the doors and inside the Red Keep. “<Don't underestimate the power of the people, Aemond. They can find power in rage if you give them the right spark. And that display…>” you trail off but don’t ease off him, you don’t use your anger either, you let it go with a deep exhale and instead, try to work this in your favor with the simple power of your enchanting voice.

“<No qualified Hand would have allowed that to happen, or even given it any thought. Dragons are the power of our house, they are sacred creatures. You know that. He doesn’t understand; he did something stupidly foolish that could cost us a lot.>”

Aemond finally looks over at you as if captured by your words, or as if he agrees too.

“<He’s our Lord Commander of the Kingsguard,>” he brings up, but that doesn’t work in anyone's defense. You use that.

“Exactly.”

Aemond studies you to try and get in your mind and read your running thoughts, finding that the words you just sang are haunting his mind instead, like a melody one can’t forget.

“I’m not saying he’s not a qualified man,” you add softly as you climb up flights of stairs to head to your room. “He may not be my favorite, he may have quite a reputation, but he still has a good mind for battle. That I can say. Maybe his skills will be best displayed trying to take Harrenhal, hm? The longer that gets left alone, the more time Daemon has to gain power there.”

“I thought you didn’t like him,” Aemond brings up and glances ahead.

“No,” you scoff. “I don’t, but,” you sigh. “He’s smart. He has experience. I can admit that. We have to admit that to ourselves.”

Aemond hums and you look at him as he looks ahead. And after knowing you said all you needed to say on the matter without being pushy or suspicious, you finally shift over to a matter that brings a bright grin to your face.

“So?! Tell me, are you Regent?”

Aemond’s eye falls and a soft smile slowly starts to grow on his face before he lifts his head and meets your gaze, showing off that smile that gives you your answer and makes you squeal before you bring the both of you to a stop atop the stairs when you throw your arms around him.

“I told you! Congratulations, my love,” you praise him genuinely since you know how much he wants to prove himself. “I knew you’d get it.”

He can’t help it, he wants to grow smug, but he grows flustered instead and only makes that smile grow warm.

“You deserve it,” you whisper so only he can hear.

Aemond wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss on the top of your head, keeping his lips and nose pressed against you as he takes in the praise that you alone have given him.

“Thank you,” he mutters against you.

You hum and pull your head back to meet his eye. “Really, I’m proud of you,” you whisper with no sign of deceit, your words come from the bottom of your heart because now people can see what you see, what you have always seen; that he’s so much more, that he is something.

“I…” he trails off and his eye turns glossy, while a breath catches in his throat and a fondness and awe paints his face. “I love you.”

You bring one hand up to caress his cheek, making him lean towards your touch right away as if instinct to seek your warmth and comfort.

“I love you too,” you redirect softly and press a gentle kiss against his lips.

“You are my Princess Regent,” he whispers against your lips, making you scoff and gently smack his chest before you pull away from his grasp to continue to your shared quarters.

Aemond of course doesn’t hesitate to follow at your side and presses what he said. “I can make you that if you want. You and me.”

You shake your head. “It can’t happen. Helaena is Queen, and,” you hesitate and he knows that so he uses it in his favor.

“You don’t want it?”

You want to say no, but you part your lips and you can’t bring yourself to counter or deny. Instead, once again there’s something dark and hungry that plagues you…

And it doesn’t let you answer

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you retort and flash him a feigned smile. He wants to counter, but you leave him no room to answer because you pick up your pace to finally get off the stairs.

Once you reach your quarters you find Vanessa with Aerion and Shrykos. You see Aerion happy with his little hatchling, you see him get even happier when he sees his father and you can’t help it, all your mind focuses on is spending time with your family. You watch as Aemond interacts with Aerion and his little hatchling. You see how much Aerion loves spending time with Aemond and vice versa. You cherish the moment, you live in it because of what lurks outside your safety walls.

Even when you see Astraea return to the city, you don’t let your attention drift away. This stolen moment is where you find joy, where you find awe as you see how easy Aerion falls asleep when he’s laying on Aemond’s chest as the three of you just spend time on the bed with Aemond’s head on your lap, your fingers messaging his temple, and your eyes interlocked as if sharing hundreds of words in the silence.

Soon there will hopefully be more of you, you and Aemond will be outnumbered, but nothing will ever lessen the love you give your son. You may love each other selfishly, and Aemond may put you over everything, but that will never impact how much you love your children because he doesn’t want them to feel lonely like the way he felt when you were gone from his life and no longer there to be the hopeful light in the darkness. He knows that for certain, just like you know for certain that you would not mind living in this peaceful moment forever.

Yet the peace gets interrupted by Ser Criston requiring Aemond’s attention to take a look at the men he chose to protect you and your son. And since the moment was already interrupted you find your chance to go to Astraea and check for any notes.

And this time there is a note from your mother that you read in the safety of your room since Aemond will be gone for a while.

“I hope you find yourself well. I thank you for your sacrifices, it must not be easy having to sneak about the Red Keep, so thank you, my Sweet. Astraea will grow impatient, and someone will suspect if she’s gone too long so I will get to the point. With the help of the Mysaria, I have sent Elinda to King’s Landing to help with a secret plan to gain the favor of the smallfolk. By the time you get this, she should be at the west city gates by nightfall, she will stay with a friend. I hope you can send someone you trust to see her in the city, she will share what we have planned—”

You pull your eyes off the paper and glance over at Vanessa as she’s the only one you can trust to do what your mother wants of you.

“—As to you. I would really like it if you came home now, I would feel more comfortable with you being taken care of by a maester I can trust. Please come home, leave Vanessa there to help Elinda, and relay any plans the greens have, just come home.

Love, your mother.”

Come home?

It's true that you would feel more comfortable there regarding your twins, but when you go home what will you do? Just sit around the table and listen? Sit and do nothing while a war rages around you?

You already failed her, failed them all once, you need to prove yourself. That’s why you’re here because you wanted to prove to your mother that you can be useful, that you can be something. You can do that here, not there trapped like a bird.

You can’t go home. No matter how much she wants you back, no matter how much you do ache to return, you can’t leave yet. Thus you stride towards the hearth and throw the letter in the fire so it’s not discovered.

Once the paper and all the words are ash you lift your nose in the air and call out to your handmaiden. “Vanessa could you let Ser Jason in, I need to speak to the both of you.”

Vanessa doesn’t wait or question you, she beckons your sworn protector, and once he’s inside and they both stand a few feet behind you, you slowly turn to face them with confidence so they feel it too.

“I need you, Vanessa to go into the city,” you share without dragging it out just in case Aemond does come soon. “Elinda is on her way to the city and I need you to help her inside. I need you to help her for me. Be my ears, my voice with what she needs.”

Vanessa’s dark eyes slowly drift down as many thoughts cross her mind. Many doubts you’re sure. The city is dangerous nowadays, and there’s no guarantee that her whereabouts won’t be caught, but you need her to run the risk because you can’t. She has a higher chance of being in the city undetected, you not so much.

“I know I'm asking a lot, but you are the only one I trust with this,” you try to make her feel comfortable. “My mother does too, if you don’t feel comfortable helping, just let Elinda in the city and walk her to where she’ll stay, okay?”

Vanessa lets out a deep breath and after a few seconds her eyes slowly scale up and she finds you, letting you see the sense of determination painting her pretty face. “I will do it, I’ll help you, the Queen, and Elinda. With whatever they need.” She assures you with a nod and a gentle smile, making you flash her a grin before you now address your sworn protector.

“As for you Ser, I need you to accompany Vanessa, protect her like you do me while she’s out in the city. She is my dearest friend and I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

Ser Jason glances at the woman beside him and swallows thickly before he looks back at you and doesn’t hesitate, he nods in agreement.

“I will protect her as I do you, my Princess,” he says with a sense of confidence that strikes him too. “I am also friends with the Gold Cloaks, I can convince them to let your friend in.”

You sigh with relief and nod in comprehension. “Good, I’m glad. Now go before Aemond gets here. And ser, don’t walk so tense, pretend you’re…taking the lady out to the city, hm?” You suggest, making his cheeks grow furiously red. “I’m being serious.”

Vanessa glances at the timid man and snickers before she approaches you and looks at you with concern and sorrow. “And you? Will you light the pyre alone?”

Your eyes flicker down, but you quickly blink and look back at her with a faint assuring smile so she doesn’t have to worry. “I’m no stranger to grieving alone. I will be fine, I know how to build a pyre.”

“It is raining,” Vanessa argues in an attempt to have you wait for her to light your grandmother's funeral pyre. “Maybe tomorrow—”

“I will be fine, I already know which courtyard to use. Go, I will be fine.” You interrupt her so she can stop worrying. “I’ll see you on the morrow hm?”

She hesitates now for the first time, and as if she was a caring older sister she pats your cheek and offers you a sweet smile.

Before she can go you grab ahold of her hand and welcome her comfort for a lingering moment before you let her go.

Once you’re alone, and Aerion’s wetnurse arrives to take care of him, you put on a beautiful blue velvet cloak and direct yourself to the courtyard you told Vanessa about; one close to the throne room, one with a spiral roof that welcomes the thick drops of rain through the gaps that usually welcome the sunlight on a clear day, or the moonlight on a cloudless night, but not today.

Today the rain is like music against the stone ground, the rain is a mess and puddles around your feet, soaking the ends of your gown and cloak. Lighting and thunder accompany the sheets of rain today, which would add an ominous feeling in the darkness of the night, but the bright fire that lights the shitty pyre you built, burns away the menacing presence of the lightning and thunder.

Now one would wonder how a pyre is still lit with how hard the rain hits the earth, but the center of the courtyard offers a roof that protects the fire and keeps most of you dry. That’s where you stand, that’s where the fire eats away at the wood in peace, and where it’s allowed to glow ragefully; basking the entire courtyard in its red and orange hue as if it was like a wildfire with the power of a thousand suns, and engulfing you with its illuminating hue that makes the grief and sorrow on your face look angelic.

Or that’s what poets would write, what bypassers would think as they watched how the raging light kisses your face and makes those tears on your cheeks glimmer like shining crystals, but you feel anything but divine, you’re grieving alone again. Just like how you grieved your father six years ago.

You shouldn’t be a stranger to grieving alone, but here you are again, away from your cousins, brother, mother, and grandfather who loved your grandmother and Meleys. You’re alone again in front of a funeral pyre bidding a last goodbye to someone you love, and no one is here to hold your hand or embrace your shaking shoulders. You’re alone grieving a grandmother you failed.

Maybe if you had written that letter faster, or sent that warning before, then she would still be alive. If you could’ve done what you were sent to do right she would be victorious or perhaps left with her life, but you failed her, you failed your Queen; your mother, and those who loved your grandmother. You amounted to nothing, but maybe that’s what you’ve been all along?

A simple girl with a luxurious title who dreamt too big and wanted too much. A selfish girl who thought she could get the world, but can’t get a scrap because no matter how hard you try you can’t reach those stars to amount to anything. You can’t feed the hunger inside you. You can’t be anything…

But…

As you stand there in the silence of solace, as you hear the fire crackle, the rain patter, and the thunderclap in the sky, there’s something that you feel calling you, something in the fire.

Something that has always called out to you since you could remember, but something that you have ignored, that you want to ignore now as you mourn your grandmother.

Yet the hot flames dry your tears and its heat embraces you tighter, but like every other time, its embrace, its kiss, and its touch is not uncomfortable like it is to everyone else. It’s welcoming, it’s nice like a friend…that’s been with you since you can recall.

No matter how hard you try, its whispers grow louder, but never desperate, it’s calling is charming, and like many other times, it entrances you.

The longer you stare at its beauty, the more it promises, swears that it’s empowering but only if you embrace it back.

You try to look away regardless of what calls for you, but how can you turn your back on what’s feeding your starving soul?

Fire kills the girl and awakens the dragon.

You can’t look away. You can’t ignore it. Not anymore.

Thus you mindlessly shrug your cloak off and let it drown in the puddle around your feet. You kick your shoes off because you are mindful of how much you love your shoes, and get closer, but it almost feels like you aren't the one controlling your body, it’s being controlled by the power of the trance. It moves you and you let it.

You raise your hand from your side and reach for the flames as if reaching out for an inviting hand.

You don’t show hesitation or fear, a malicious smirk tugs on your lips and the confidence, pride, and malice that washes over you gleams in your eyes like the illuminating fire because there’s never been anything to fear about the fire. It's why you don’t think of pulling away, you embrace the fire like securing your grip on an inviting hand.

Yet just as you raise your foot to step inside the calling flames, a hand suddenly grabs a hold of your wrist and you’re yanked back harshly under the rain.

When you look at the intruder you meet the gaze of your husband, your Aemond looking at you with horror. Yet that emotion slowly fades away as he lifts your hand and sees that you’re unharmed.

Now instead of fearing that you were going to jump in the fire to hurt yourself, he’s left flabbergasted and confused. You could explain it to him with words, but at that moment you can’t muster a single syllable, so instead you pull away and show him.

Aemond wants to stop you again. It’s an instinct, but when you put your hand in the fire and don’t wince, or make a sound of pain, as he sees that the fire doesn’t hurt a single perimeter of your flesh he’s struck with awe that leaves him paralyzed where he stands. It’s not horror or disgust. You walk under the rain again and study him closely to make sure, to know if you should be ashamed, but no matter how much you search his face or dig your gaze in his, there’s nothing you see but awe, admiration, a bit of confusion, and more adoration for you.

He sees you with the opposite of what you feared, with love and fascination, and you feel seen.

There in the darkness you are cast in is your light and you feel…like…you can be something important under his eye, with him because he sees you.

Sure you could have shown your mother, your brother, or even Cregan that the fire doesn’t hurt you. It’s your friend, you're immune to its violence and that’s your gift, but you didn’t share that with them and they didn’t see, but Aemond does. He sees you now, he looks at you like you are something more than you thought you could be and you’re relieved

You have yet to fully be embraced by the flames, but at last, someone knows and someone loves you for it. Someone sees your value and your power. Then again in some ways he always has, now he just sees all of you.

“Come with me,” he whispers, and thunder cuts in from the distant sky.

He offers you his hand and you don’t hesitate, you place your hand over his, and secure his grasp. Before you leave though you slip your shoes back on and pick up your cloak drenched with water.

At first, you expect to be taken well anywhere else but the throne room. Yet much to your surprise, you’re now embraced by the darkness of the glorious hall with only the night's hue casting in a natural light, and the occasional shots of bright lightning flashing an ominous light.

“They would love you,” his voice oozes out like honey. “I know that. Even now they love you, but imagine then, hm?” His words travel in your ear and they make a chill crawl down your spine.

“We—even before we married, when we were just kids…” he says and walks around you, making sure to bring his hand up to press his palm down on the back of your neck, making the hairs on the back of your neck rise, and those goosebumps to spread as he brings his lips close to your ear and lets his breath unfurl over your skin.

“…we were a lot more than my sister and Aegon. We valued our traditions, we value them even now. We are what all Targaryens rulers should be because we always wanted it.”

…he…

“Can’t you see it? Can’t you see us?” He whispers against your flesh, tempting you to tilt your head to try and meet his lips.

“Be Regent with me,” he offers again, but this time in a soft and almost pleading voice that makes your body move so you can be face to face and interlock gazes.

“I hear your protests,” he adds and glances at your lips only inches away from his. “But Helaena has never wanted what she has, you have…”

He…

“You and I will be the best of them,” he continues and continues to grow this realization. That’s what it is, a realization in the darkness of the room.

No matter how much you have tried to deny it, how hard you have pushed it down and brushed it off, it’s always been there. And it was never a darkness, and that hunger for more was never a plague. That’s a lie.

There was this desire, this need always within you. He knows that he sees that like no one else has. And just like the fascination he had for you when he saw you unhurt by the fire, now you return that fascination for him and his offer.

“You and me,” you whisper and those silent words travel over the sound of thunder because you can feel the warmth of his lips basically embrace yours.

And instead of answering with words, a malicious smirk tugs on his lips, and his awe only heightens for you, drawing him to smash his lips over yours just as you lean in at the same time, and bringing you both to forget where you are.

The rain patters harshly against the windows, against the roof, the thunder booms, and the lightning strikes the earth and flashes its bright light, but neither of you give it a second thought or any thought at all. It’s just you and him, basking in the passion brought by your selfish desires come to life. Because that's what it is, selfish on your part. It’s not selfless, you did not accept his offer for her, you accepted because you wanted to.

But Daemon pushed you here, didn’t he?

And Aemond sees you, he sees something in you. You can be something with him. That’s all you want, that’s all you have wanted.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“He dares to summon me!” Aemond barks with rage after reading a demand from Lord Jason Lannister. “With haste?”

He throws the crumbled letter to the side and leans over the table to glare at the brother sitting at your right side.

“Are the Lannisters so diminished that they cannot march from the Tooth to Harrenhal without an escort?”

You clasp your hands over the table and slowly drift your gaze to the blond man avoiding Aemond’s seething glare.

“There is a large dragon in the Riverlands, Your Grace,” Ser Tyland defends his brother's choice, which makes sense, but also sounds a bit like an excuse. A pretty pathetic excuse. “My brother's army is strong, but it does seem—”

“I am the Prince Regent,” Aemond reminds the man. “Not a dog to be called to heel. Tell your brother that if he does not deliver his host to Harrenhal, with ‘haste’,” he mocks. “Daemon’s dragon will become the least of his worries.”

A smirk tugs on your lips that you can't hide, that you can’t shame either. Aemond is right to be angry, and right to project his anger in that way, or else they won’t listen. Besides, you do have to admit you like it when he’s angry, and this new role of command suits him well.

Yet not everyone agrees, especially not his mother. She glances over at you in search of aid, but you just meet her gaze and flash her your smirk as you lift your nose in the air and sit back; because now you too carry this sense of cockiness, this rise in your ego that comes with your new title that the Lords around the table had to oblige to out of fear of Aemond.

If it were up to them they wouldn’t have allowed the daughter of Rhaenyra to sit amongst them and listen to their war plans, but you are now the Princess Regent in a time of war, you are needed around the table to listen mostly. And yes that bugs you, you still want to do more, and you hope now that Aemond discovered your immunity he’ll let you do more, that he’ll let you fight like you wanted to, but you don’t know. You haven’t talked about that night and the fact that he saw that the fire is not harmful or deadly to you, you haven’t had time, and even if you know you saw the love and awe in his eyes you still fear what he has to say on the matter, so that also why you haven’t really tried to talk about it.

You’ll talk about it soon, you have to, right now you’re just relishing in the fact that you’re around the table and that you have a more important title. You find pride in it, and more power than you’ve had before.

It’s intoxicating.

“Your irritations are justified, Aemond,” Alicent tries to do what she wanted you to do. “But it does seem—”

“I have a task for you, as well,” Aemond cuts Alicent off as he begins to stalk around the table. “Ser Tyland.”

Alicent’s brown eyes once again find you and pass her confusion for her son's sudden cold shoulder towards her, and even if you know what brought this on, you don’t offer her sympathy or pity, you look at her blankly before following Aemond with your eyes and watch him land behind Ser Tyland, like a predator scaring its prey.

“We will make an alliance with the Triarchy,” Aemond continues. “I've had enough of this cursed blockade.”

“My Prince,” Ser Tyland tries to bring up an argument. “You cannot mean to treat with the Free Cities. The captains of their ships are dangerous mercenaries, little more than pirates—”

“They are a stone's throw away across the Narrow Sea,” Aemond cuts the man's argument off as he steals a glance at you to let his gaze linger on you before he drops his eye on the man under him. “Lannister and Hightower ships will take months to arrive. The Triarchy will delight in the chance to terrorize the Sea Snake again. Let them weaken his blockade while our true allies make their long journey east.”

“The Triarchy may play at accepting terms but they are not to be trusted,” Alicent tries to reason with Aemond. “Your father knew this. What has come of our letters to the Greyjoys?” She drifts to a different matter in the same territory.

“They have been to no avail,” maester Orwyle gives the Dowager Queen the answer she seeked.

“The Red Kraken waits,” Lord Jasper interjects. “Seeking his best advantage. Though we may draw him in with honey. If it comes to it. An offer of marriage, perhaps to the Dowager Queen?”

You snicker in amusement and Alicent glances at you as she protests. “Out of the question.”

“You’ll have better luck breaking the Ice Wall,” you break your silence with knowledge you harbor from your past in the North. “When I was ward to Lady Karstark, the Greyjoys would send raid parties to Stony Shores, so to make them stop Lord Bennard Stark sent a proposal, one of his sons to one of Lord Greyjoy's many daughters,” you scoff and slowly lean forward.

“Lord Greyjoy sent back a nasty and bloody reply to deny the proposal. The raids did not stop until Lord Cregan Stark became lord because the Greyjoys’s answer with violence. I would suggest letting them sack some town close to their shores to gain their favor.”

“A bloody proposal but it might work,” Lord Larys actually says in your favor.

Alas Lord Jasper counters with discreet disagreement.

“We would have to think about it, and think of which shores they can attack.”

And that’s another way of saying no. You’ll tell your mother then, or Daemon, they’ll listen and gain their favor instead.

“The Dowager Queen spoke wisely, Your Grace,” Ser Criston cuts in. “Even if the blockade could be broken, are we to invite these alien raiders into our waters, so close to King’s Landing?”

“It’s time you set out for Harrenhal, I think,” Aemond pays his thought no mind and actually does as you told him. Which only works to feed that already heightened cockiness.

“Your Grace, if Daemon prevails in the Riverlands I no longer have the numbers to challenge him,” Ser Criston rebuttals, making you bite back your smug smile as you sit back and instead let your cockiness be shown in the way you sit, and the way your nose is slightly perked to touch the air, welcoming the sunlight to kiss your face just perfectly and only make you look that more regal.

“We lost much at Rook’s Rest,” Ser Criston makes sure to share while his eyes follow Aemond as he sits on the edge of the table beside him. “As you well know.”

“The longer we wait, the more chance he will prevail,” Aemond rebuttals using a variation of what you told him not long ago. “Lannister will march from the west. Take what strength we have and force Daemon and his Riverlords to fight on two fronts.”

You fiddle with one of your many rings on your fingers and watch the man seem almost hesitant to do as he’s told.

“His Grace speaks wisely,” Lord Larys says, but Ser Criston argues.

“We would do better to await the Hightower host and set out in good time.”

Aemond’s gaze drifts to you and you lock eyes but say or motion for nothing. You remain as prideful and smug and just hold his gaze until he returns his attention to the man beside him.

“There is no time,” Aemond counters. “It’s a fortnight's march to Harrenhal. We must strike before his army is raised.”

“And you yourself?”

Aemond tilts his head up and once again shares his smugness on the Daemon matter. “I will fly out to meet you when the time is ripe. My uncle is a challenge I welcome…if he dares face me.”

You could laugh at that. You could laugh at the many things Aemond says about Daemon because he thinks that Daemon is somehow scared, or at his level, and sure Aemond is threatening with Vhagar and his swordsman’s skills, but Aemond doesn’t have Daemon’s experience yet, once he does then you can say they could see eye to eye.

“I have some concerning news to share,” Lord Larys interjects and earns everyone’s attention. “I have just heard that Lord Cregan Stark leads an army of two thousand older men.”

You blink and that overpowering arrogance falters at the mention of Cregan, at the mention that he’s on his way to fight for his Queen after he said he couldn’t march so soon himself.

He’s actually coming down and that thought excites you more than it should. It makes your heart swoon more than it should. Yet you don’t display the smile that threatens to spread on your lips, you don’t let your heart show your pride or joy through your eyes, you remain nonchalant and ignore the attentive eyes of Lord Larys as he tries to catch any reaction, but you don’t give him the satisfaction.

“A measly army of old men that will be brought down quickly,” Aemond brushes Lord Larys off, but that's what the Lord expected, he just wanted to see how you would react, but you don’t fall for his trap.

“Now, I see we’re all agreed,” Aemond brings an end to the meeting after a moment's silence whilst he returns to his seat across from you.

“Your Grace,” Ser Criston says after he stands up.

The other bodies around the table don’t linger behind, they rise from their seats and walk out, you do the same but rather than walking out right away, you make yourself around the table to press a kiss on Aemond’s cheek that he welcomes by leaning over to meet your lips.

“My love,” you offer him sweet words before stepping back to walk around his seat with your fingers brushing over his shoulders.

Before you can lose touch, he captures your hand and brings you to a stop.

“Mother…a word,” he calls out before Alicent can leave the perimeters, all while he never once breaks your connection, and sparks this quick-growing tension that makes your heart begin to race with excitement.

“You,” he directs at you. “Eat. Don’t think you went unnoticed when we broke fast.”

You sigh. “I have found it more difficult this morning, they did not like what I ate,” you refer to the twins inside you. “Even now the thought of any food makes me want to vomit.”

Aemond hums and lets your hand go to caress your belly. “I’ll talk to the maester. You talk to Vanessa, have her make you some tea.”

You offer him a soft smile and give his mind some peace by nodding in agreement.

Aemond caresses your belly one more time with a faint smile before he grabs your hand and sends you off with a kiss on your knuckles.

As you walk away you don’t leave in silence, you pass Alicent and give her your last word. “Mother.”

Her eyes follow you and you can feel them on your back as you stride out with a teasing smirk because you both know that you meant that mockingly.

Now to the Godswood, where you won’t be alone, no, now rather than one guard there’s two watching over you now; Ser Jason, and Ser Cane Clegane; The Blood Hound as he’s popularly known, a thirty-something-year-old man who is rather stoic, with broad shoulders, built like an ox, and carries a deep and almost rocky voice. You are wary mostly because of your own indiscretions, but from what little time you have had with him he does look rather trustworthy.

Then again Aemond did personally inspect him and even tested his worth, so he is reliable if your life is ever threatened.

You hope you’ll have to wait and see.

Regardless, no one interrupts the peace you instantly find in the Godswood. You find comfort in the smell of the red leaves that swirl in your nose thanks to the gentle wind that howls in your ear. You feel bliss as the warm sunlight peeking through the gaps between the red leaves kisses your face. And not counting the shadows lurking in the distance, you don’t feel alone as you lose your eyes on the weeping face carved on the weirwood tree.

Eyes stare back at you, but it’s not a piercing gaze, it’s not judgmental, or heavy with intimidation, they’re gentle eyes, caring, and attentive. They admire your smile as you can’t help but think of Cregan marching down with his men to fight.

You shouldn’t be so happy, you need to knock your joy and pride down a peg or two after all, it’s unlikely you’ll see him, but you can’t help but feel…happy at the thought after you were certain that he would not dare come so soon.

And it’s not that you want to hop on your dragon and meet him halfway, no, the thought doesn’t cross your mind. You’re just happy to hear he’s coming with his army of men.

“Princess.”

And just like that your peace is broken, and by no other than Alicent who seems quite distressed when you turn to face her.

Why? What could she want?

.

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A/N- Abbey by Mitski is yours and Aemond's anthem period in this story period.

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