#is one of the most ignorant things I have ever heard

[thisisntmyrightera]

Together - CHO HYUN-JU x Fem Reader Part 2

Summary: Reader is scammed and abandoned by her boyfriend, leaving her alone in South Korea to her fate, so in desperate search of a solution to return to her home country she decides to join the squid games to get money, within the game she meets a couple of people who become her friends and could possibly be something more.

Warning: Violence, homophobia mention of attempted rape and sexist language

Hours passed, one after another as groups of 5 people entered after passing the tests, time was exhausting, hearing gunshots in the distance and watching as the greedy people got upset every time the door opened again and again

I had already gone back and forth from my mattress to the steps, I sat down and lay down bored looking around feeling the irritation on my ankle more and more, the guard had tied it so tight that a red irritation had started to appear on my skin

Ouch - I said barely touching my ankle feeling the burning that was irritated even more by the friction of the fabric

Are you okay let me see - Hyun-Ju approached slowly sitting down a couple of steps below taking my foot carefully - did you twist your foot?

No, I'm fine - I looked at her embarrassed, trying to avoid her gaze, but her firm and large hand held my foot, looking at me - it's just a scratch, I think

Let me see - her touch went from firm to soft and delicate, slowly lifting the fabric of my pants, showing the red and irritated mark on my skin - I see, your skin is very sensitive, are you weak after all?

Hey, I'm not weak - her laugh made me laugh with her, pushing her a little while my leg rested on her knee - Hyun-Ju… can I ask you something?

Sure - her smile was still kind as she carefully folded my pants up, making sure the fabric didn't touch the irritated area again

Why are you here? Do you need the money for something? - Her face seemed to turn even paler than it already was, her smile blurred and her eyes looked at the floor in shame, as if she had asked the most embarrassing thing on the planet - If you don't want to tell me, I'll understand, excuse my intrusion

No… it's not that - she sighed slowly swallowing saliva and then looked at me with a look of embarrassment - my… my goal is to get to Thailand

Thailand? Do you need to go on vacation or something? - I smiled at her naively excited, thousands of times I had heard about that country but I still had not had the fortune to know it

No..- she smiled mocking a little at my foreign innocence - I…I need to go finish my transition you know..

Transition?..oh..I..understand Hyun-Ju sorry I shouldn't have asked you something so personal

Don't worry - she smiled a little moving her fingers nervously playing with the green fabric - it's just that…nobody is ever interested in my story and it's a little difficult for me to tell it

I understand…well..- I looked at her going down a couple of steps until I was sitting next to her looking at her attentively - if you want you can tell me, I would like to meet Hyun-Ju - She laughed with her eyes a little wet looking to the other side trying to hold her breath - do you work?

I worked… - she sighed again, this time deeper, dropping her shoulders - I was fired from my job when… well… I decided to tell everyone what I really am, they were ashamed of me and, they fired me

They are bastards, that is not right or even legal, what does your identity have to do with your ability, they are ignorant - I snorted angrily clenching my jaw - it must have been a dumb job after all, right? You must not have missed much

I was a soldier… - she looked at me, moving her legs nervously - a sergeant to be more exact, after they fired me my mother cried a lot and my father was ashamed, they don't talk to me anymore, my friends stopped talking to me and… - her voice broke off as her lips trembled - and everything became difficult and lonely

I understand, the people you trusted turned their backs on you - I looked at her feeling stupid, I shouldn't have forcing her to open her feelings like that, now I felt guilty for making her cry because of my silly curiosity - but… Hyun-Ju - I smiled a little taking her hand (which I could barely hold a couple of fingers of her big hand) I can be your friend, I would have loved to meet you somewhere else and be able to help you feel better about yourself, after all you haven't done anything wrong, being yourself makes you very brave

That's why I want to go to Thailand, I've heard that in that country there are the best doctors and the prettiest girls, I would love to be able to complete my transition and finally be what I want to be - her eyes showed a sparkle when she talked about it, her illusion overflowed through her pores

You don't have to go to Thailand to feel like that, for me you are already beautiful - my arms surrounded her as soon as the sobs began to come out of her chest and her hands covered her face saddened by crying, she was so fragile, my arms could barely surround her shoulders while her head rested on my shoulder sobbing and shaking - if you want to cry do it, people have been very cruel to you, but never cry out of shame, you have nothing to feel disappointed in yourself about.

This time, the shots didn't seem so dangerous and time passed without feeling it so slowly, she was a magical being that made me lose track of time

You are also very pretty, since I met you, I felt your bravery but also your heart, not everyone shows what they have inside and makes it look so valuable - her hands slowly wiped her tears taking care not to ruin her eyeliner and her diva bangs

It's not time to get sentimental - I laughed pushing her slowly while I got up adjusting my blouse going down a couple of steps - I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime

Do you want me to accompany you?

No, I'll be fine, wait for me here don't go anywhere - I laughed walking across the large space in the center of the beds feeling everyone's gazes.

They followed me and whispered, some laughed and others even said uncomfortable things waiting for me to react upset, they made the path very difficult to the door which was empty and as it was supposed, almost all the guards were in the yard even while the game continued.

The bathroom was big, with lots of cubicles and mirrors, almost uncomfortable to look at, like those endless and gloomy backgrounds, I could barely walk without tripping over to one of the toilets, sitting down uncomfortably listening to the door open once again, this time the footsteps of several people echoed in the almost empty place and a couple of laughs broke the silence and then a loud bang on my door made me jump scared, quickly pulling up my clothes

-I know you're in there, naughty girl, get out of there - the boys' laughter echoed off the walls, how could I have gotten into the wrong bathroom - get out you damn bitch - A loud bang again made me jump scared, unlocking the door with fear and opening it slowly

What did I tell you, the foreigner was here - the purple-haired boy laughed leaning on the bathroom door almost joining his face to mine - what are you doing here, cutie?

Nothing, I'm done - I looked at him, barely trying to get through quickly, scared, feeling a clumsy and strong hand pulling my hair

Come here bitch, I'm not done with you - this time his strength made me slam against one of the bathroom doors, making my back hurt - we know why whores like you come to our country, they come for sex and attention from us, don't they?

That's right, my friend - the long-haired man laughed, pressing his sweaty face against my cheek - she smells good, tell us, darling, what is such a pretty and sexy girl doing with that damn homosexual monster, huh?

She's not a monster, she's my friend - I looked at him, annoyed, tired of continuing to deal with men like him, but despite trying to get out of his hands, I couldn't - her name is Hyun-Ju, that's what they should call her

Oh, how cute, so you're a fucking weirdo like that effeminate? You like faggots, huh? - He laughed, hitting my cheek, making me scream in pain- You know my friend Nam-Gyu liked you as soon as he saw you, don't you like my friend? He's a real man

Leave me alone - I could barely speak when I felt his hand on my neck, pressing me against the door

Leave you? Honey, we're just getting started - the rapper laughed with his friend - do whatever you want to her Nam-Gyu, show her what it's like to be with a real man

My screams could barely be heard a couple of centimeters away, his firm hand on my neck and my crying didn't help much, feeling his disgusting hands running over my body, under my shirt and on the elastic of my pants made me feel even more of an idiot, this was all my fault

Shut your fucking mouth, you're distracting me - another blow again, this time on my lip leaving me stunned - hold her tight, she won't stop moving

I could feel the cold air on my thighs as they pulled down my pants and laughed talking disgusting and meaningless things, everything seemed to get even more dizzy, everything looked blurry until my body fell to the cold floor and again I could react, my tears wouldn't stop running down my face but I could notice the rapper and his friend lying on the floor, the latter Nam-Gyu wiping his bleeding nose

This will be the last time you approach her, is that clear? - Hyun-Ju hit him once more, slamming his head on the floor, leaving him unconscious - If you touch her again, I'll kill you, you fucking idiot, I'll kill you!

The purple haired boy ran hysterically almost tripping over his shoulder, not caring that his friend was on the floor, and I felt so humiliated, lying in a corner of the bathroom crying with a bleeding lip. If only I had listened to my parents from the beginning, I would have never come to this country and this wouldn't be happening. It was all my fault.

Calm down, sweetie, here I am - Hyun-Ju was much taller than those two men, her body was still strong and thick, but her presence was so calm and gave me so much peace that I couldn't feel intimidated by her.

Her hands, careful as always, held my pants, slowly lifting them up until they were in place, then they went to my face, checking my bruises and moving my hair out of my eyes so she could see every inch of my skin.

Sorry… - I looked at her embarrassed, feeling my tears running non-stop, I felt so humiliated and dirty that I couldn't think of anything else but that everything was my fault

You don't have to apologize, you didn't do anything wrong, no one will do anything bad to you anymore, I promise - her arms held me, she never asked me to stop crying or forced me to calm down, she just let me take it all out in her arms, rocking me slowly - let's go outside

But… - I looked at her with fear, shaking her head

Nothing bad will happen, I promise, as long as we're together I'll take care of you, okay? - I could feel my hair being brushed by her fingers slowly and carefully

Ok… - I sighed wiping my eyes with my sweater getting up slowly holding on to her arm so I wouldn't fall, luckily when we left the lights were almost off and most of the people who were already in their beds were getting ready to sleep, thank god without paying attention to us as we crossed the large space in the center

Let's go to bed, tomorrow will be a new day and we must be focused - her hands held my back slowly, making me go up the stairs carefully taking care not to trip - do you want me to help you with your shoes?

No.. - I looked at her embarrassed sitting on my bed taking off my sweater carefully while she stood rubbing her hands nervously

Okay, if you need anything, I'll be in my bed, just call me okay? -She smiled lightly at me, almost invisible because of the darkness of the place, but I could feel it, she made me feel those nice things

Hyun-Ju…-I held her hand quickly while she stopped almost tripping- can you… stay, I'm afraid to sleep alone

Do you want me to stay here? I can watch you if it makes you feel safer -she went back up a few steps sitting down carefully

You can sleep with me, we'll both rest and take care of each other- I could feel my cheeks erupting again while I held the blanket so she could come in with me

Are you sure? I don't want to bother you…

I'm sure, come - I smiled at her, barely feeling a pain in my lip, she just lay down carefully, her body almost taking up more than half of the bed but her presence was so calm that it made me feel like everything was perfect again

I didn't understand why I felt that way, safe and loved, with honesty and without being hurt

Thank you Hyun-Ju…thanks for saving me

Thanks to you, sweetheart, you saved me in a different way,

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Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon! Tag List!

@kuureii @sann1e @sunflowers-are-heaven @bridellashiper

[do-not-fold-spindle-or-mutilate]

I used to work at a place where we, the staff, got to choose the music genre we listened to. I like classic rock, and I put that on one day, but one of my coworkers liked contemporary pop. Okay, I'm cool with that.

She was not cool with my classic rock. She started complaining loudly about how she didn't know any of the songs. Baffling, since it's classic rock, aka the most unavoidable genre ever.

The rest of us were all kinda done with her shit because she was being obnoxious about it, but she decided she had an issue with me, specifically, and when the next song came on, she got in my face, real violation-of-personal-space hours, and SMUGLY said "I've never heard this song in my life"

About a top 40 hit that had gotten steady airplay since the 70s.

Somehow, she had worked herself into being proud of not knowing something she could only have missed by willfully ignoring a huge chunk of her own lived experience.

To this day, it's the weirdest thing I've ever seen someone be smug about

There's a whole demographic of people who are profoundly incurious and just assume everyone else is too, so when they see something unfamiliar they immediately rush to declare that not only have they never heard of it, none of you did either. You're just pretending. You had to look it up, don't lie. You didn't know this

And like, so what if someone had to look something up. That's how you learn new things. People usually say this about knowledge that's pretty damn basic, but I can't get over how they're not only scornful at the idea of people trying to learn something new, they casually assume everyone else is, too

[genderkoolaid]

question, have you heard about the book Trans/Rad/Fem coming out soon, and what are your thoughts on it? Idk I’ve read a bit about it and don’t have the highest hopes, it appears to just be another thing of ppl papering over the most egregious transphobia in radfeminism/replacing sex with gender and acting like it’s completely okay and fine now, but I’d like to see your thoughts

Yeah, I'm not exactly thrilled by this lol

I'm not gonna say that no part of radical feminism was ever helpful to a woman or that it served literally no purpose in the history of feminism.

But anyone who looks at radical feminism and goes, this is actually GREAT for trans people!, strikes me as someone who is ignorant (genuinely or willfully) of how harmful it was and is to so many groups. This description doesn't talk much about which trans people it is seeking to help, but the one mention of a specific group is trans women. So I'm guessing this book will be exactly what the title suggests and what anyone familiar with transradfems are expecting: eagerly jumping on radical feminism but reframing it for trans women, with no actual criticism of why the way radical feminism engages with gender is harmful, and doing to trans men, nonbinary people, and trans women who fall outside their lines, exactly what cis radfems have always done to all trans people and cis women who fall outside their lines.

While I do generally agree that a lot of people who call themselves "radical feminists" (or TERFs) today, do not actually know much about the radical feminist movement, or follow it's values. That does not mean the original radical feminists were meaningfully better. Their values sucked and radfems have ALWAYS worked with pro-patriarchy conservatives when it comes to harassment and legal action against groups they both hate (such as sex workers and trans people).

[mreowsu]

woke up to a multitude of notifs from the previous one, it appears to have been well-recieved. in return, here is a thank you from me :)

DRABBLES, ONESHOTS / itoshi sae x fem!reader

part one

It didn't take long for friends and family back home to hear of you and Sae's rendezvous in España, and boy are they not happy.

cw my writing. both are 14-15. profanities. itoshi rin appearance yay. fluff

wc 4.1k

The ride back to the academy dorms was uneventful, save for the occasional celebratory chatter from the boys' team. You had tagged along on their bus after the match—what? Belonging to the female Re Al team, how could they possibly refuse their up and coming female striker?

Seated a few rows ahead of you, Sae kept his usual quiet, earbuds in and his focus elsewhere.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your pocket. Notifications piled up, missed calls and texts flashing one after another. You tried to ignore it, brushing it off as hopefully post-game excitement and congratulatory messages to be passed to Sae for those that couldn’t reach him. But once the bus pulled into the academy grounds, the increasing persistence became impossible to overlook.

Everyone got off the bus, leaving you and Sae to walking side-by-side homeward to the dorms. Sae barely spared you a glance as you sighed and pulled your phone out, scrolling through the chaos. The screen lit up with an endless flood of notifications—mentions, retweets, likes—your feed practically bursting at the seams.

It didn’t take long for the stunt you pulled to spread like wildfire. With cameras and the media stationed all over the stadium, both you and him in your little world had been immortalized from all possible perspectives.

X (or twt?) was most especially on fire.

“Did y’all see the way she just touched his hair? 😭” “Japan’s prodigies or Spain’s new power couple?” “The power she holds. I’m in shambles. Goodbye.” “#Hair goalz” “Sae is so real, I mean, if I were to be sweating with people watching, I’d want to look my best” “I dunno if I wanna be him or her” “Guys, may I remind you all that these are 14 year olds??”—

You scrolled further, only to be greeted by memes that sent a fresh wave of horror washing over you. Screenshots of Sae’s faintly pink ears were captioned with things like, “Bros blush is heard around the world” and “BREAKING NEWS: Japan’s prodigy caught slipping.”

Your personal favorite (if you could call it that) was a photo of you brushing back his bangs, captioned:

“Y/N L/N, certified hairdresser for future world cup winner LMFAOOOO”

“Ugh,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why do they have to make memes out of everything?”

Sae’s gaze flicked to your phone for a second before he returned his attention to the road ahead. “You’re surprised?”

You sighed, shoving the phone into your pocket. “No, but I can’t believe they got that angle.”

“They got every angle,” Sae replied dryly, his tone as flat as ever.

Your steps slowed as you neared the dorms. You pulled out your phone again, scrolling through the messages until you found one that made your blood run cold.

You paled.

Among the sea of notifications was one from your mother. Her text was simple yet loaded:

Mom: “Call me. Now.”

All thoughts of internet chaos evaporated as you stared at your mother’s menacing message. The bold lettering glared ominously at you through the screen, carrying more weight than it had any right to.

You groaned, slumping against Sae’s side with all the subtlety of a boulder rolling downhill. His body stiffened at the sudden contact, and his eyes darted toward you, a flicker of annoyance crossing his usually impassive face.

How had she even managed to make two words sound so menacing? “How did she even make it bold?” you muttered under your breath, staring at the text like it might explain itself. You held the phone up for emphasis, and for your companion to see. “Where did she get the bold font? Why is it in bold?” You cried.

He sighed, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. “Maybe she just wants you to call her.”

“No kidding, genius,” you shot back, glaring at him for his unhelpfulness. “But it’s scary when it’s in the bold font.”

Sae rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about your overreaction before leaning just far enough to escape your weight. “Just call her already.”

You groaned again, dragging yourself upright and glaring at your phone one last time. “If I don’t survive this call, tell her it was because of the bold font.”

Sae’s expression didn’t budge, but you caught the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll send flowers to your funeral.”

You shot him a glare, “very funny.”

Resigning yourself to your fate, you tapped the call button and braced for impact. The line barely rang twice before your mother’s voice burst through.

“You’re too young for this nonsense!” she started, her tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “You went to Spain to play football, not to… to… canoodle!! Do you know how many relatives have called me asking what’s going on between the two of you?!”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh at her tone, though you quickly tried to stifle it, but upon realizing what she just said, your face heated up.

“It wasn’t like that!” you protested.

“Then why does it look like that?!” she snapped back.

You groaned, running a hand down your face. “It’s just the media blowing things out of proportion. Sae and I are just friends.”

Friends. The word tasted bitter, foreign, almost hollow when it came to you. But were you guys really? It didn't quite fit the shape of what your relationship had become. It didn’t feel right—not with the way he always lingered just a little too long by your side, or the way your heart skipped at his smallest actions. Hearing the word friends, Sae would be lying if he said he didn't so much as feel an undeniable pang in his chest.

Neither of you said anything more, or lack-thereof, though. The moment passed like a fleeting shadow.

“Good,” she said, but her tone didn’t soften. “Now go find him. He’s not getting out of this.”

“MOM!” you exclaimed, your voice shooting up an octave in sheer disbelief.

“You’re in it together. If you’re getting scolded, so is he. That’s how teamwork works.”

“I don’t think that’s how teamwork works.”

“Don’t argue with me,” she snapped through gritted teeth. “Go find him. Now.”

You stared at your phone, utterly baffled, before slumping with an exasperated groan. “How does she do that?” you muttered.

Sae, who had been observing your side of the conversation with mild interest, raised an eyebrow when you lowered the phone.

“Well?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. “Do what?”

“She sounds bold-lettered again,” you complained, gesturing dramatically at the phone. “Like, how does she make it sound like that? Bold and threatening all at once? Is this a skill all mothers have?”

“Maybe you should just listen to her,” Sae deadpanned.

You glared at him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “She wants—”

Just then, the unthinkable happened. Your mother, seemingly defying all odds and cellphones, suddenly went on speaker without warning, her voice ringing out loud and clear.

“I can hear him, let me talk to him now!” She demanded, the exclamation marks practically visible in her tone. “NOW!”

“—to yell at you too.”

You froze, and he blinked, looking at the device in your hand, utterly unfazed. “You know,” Sae began, his voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness, “I think this is a good time for me to leave.”

You turned to glare at him, pulling him back toward you with a surprising amount of force, making him stumble slightly.

“Get back here!” you hissed, your hand still gripping his arm as he tried to step away. “You’re not leaving me to face her alone!”

Sae, who had been halfway through his dorm, sighed. “You’re not exactly giving me much of a choice.”

But you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. With a determination, you pulled him back outside the room, holding the phone between the two of you as your mother’s voice filled the space.

“You both are in so much trouble!” Your mother practically shouted from the phone, her frustration evident. “I should’ve known something was going on when I saw the media coverage. I’m not having my kids make headlines for this!”

Sae, who had remained unfazed so far, leaned casually against the wall, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t make headlines. That’s all on you,” he teased lightly.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his response. "What the hell do you mean? You literally walked toward me with a fucking spotlight on your head!" 

“WATCH THAT TONGUE—I’m not done with this nonsense!”

You shot him a warning look, silently begging him not to make it worse. But that only seemed to entertain him more.

“Look, I get it,” you said, speaking directly into the phone, trying to regain some control of the situation. “It’s not a big deal, okay? Like I said, it’s just the media blowing things out of proportion.”

“I don’t care about the media! I care about you two being sensible!” your mother’s voice cracked a little, clearly not impressed by your attempt to defuse the situation. “Now, Sae, you better not be leading my child astray. I want you both to keep your heads in the game.”

Without a word, you shoved the phone toward Sae, who had barely reacted to the situation. He shot you a look, you mouthed: ‘she’s talking to you’. You gestured dramatically at ‘you’. 

He stared at the device like it was an inconvenience, but eventually took it, his usual indifference in place. 

You were both just standing there, patiently, albeit strained, waiting in silence for the next round of scolding from your mother when a new, unmistakable voice entered the boxing ring somewhere in the background.

You both froze. Sae nearly dropped the phone, his grip faltering. You couldn't help but snicker at the rare look on his face. The last thing you expected was to hear that sweet but dangerously knowing voice—his mother, unmistakably. That sweet but unnerving voice was enough to snap him out of whatever bravado he'd been putting on. He looked at the phone as though it might bite him.

“Hi, Mrs. L/n, is my son on the line? I’d like to talk to him,” she said again, though the distance made it sound muffled, like she was halfway across the room.

Sae had managed to escape his parents’ wrath for a while, but that was about to change, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit victorious.

His brow furrowed, unable to mask his surprise. Sae ran a hand through his hair with a resigned sigh, clearly not surprised by the turn of events. "Of course," he muttered under his breath, the weight of it all sinking in. "My family would have contacted yours the moment they caught wind of whatever the hell the two of us were doing in Spain."

You raised an eyebrow at his comment, crossing your arms with a knowing smile. "Oh, so you knew this was coming?"

He looked at you with a dry smirk. "I mean, it's not like we were exactly being subtle, huh?" he added, his usual smugness creeping back into his tone. "It wasn’t my fault you decided to get all touchy in front of the cameras."

You glared at him with all your might, but your argument died on your tongue, clearly defeated. "Unbelievable," you muttered.

The phone crackled slightly, and then his mother’s voice came through.

"Hello?"

The both of you stayed silent, catching each other's staring before you took the liberty to answer. "Hello?" you greeted, your voice slightly uncertain.

"Ah, Y/n, so sorry for the sudden intrusion," Sae’s mother chimed in, her voice full of sweetness, but you knew carried a weight behind it. Locked and loaded, reserved to open fire only at Sae. "My son is always so unpredictable… He’s not giving you any trouble, is he?"

You couldn’t help but grin. “No trouble at all, I promise.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end, but it didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Well, I do hope he’s keeping you focused. I did hear something about hairdressers…” She trailed off, clearly referencing the media frenzy from earlier. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you to take care of each other.”

You blinked in surprise. The sudden shift from the playful teasing to genuine concern caught you off guard, but you did your best to play it cool. “We’re doing fine, really.”

“I’m sure you are, darling,” she continued, her voice warm, but there was an undeniable edge to it. “Just remember to keep your heads in the game. I want you both succeeding, not making headlines for nonsense.”

You glanced at Sae, who was clearly pretending not to listen. “Don’t worry, we’re focusing on football,” you reassured, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to hear,” she said, her tone finally lightening up. "From you, atleast."

You raised an eyebrow at her words, catching the subtle jab aimed at Sae. You could feel his irritation radiating off him, though his face betrayed nothing more than a slight twitch of his brow. Smirking, you mouthed; 'you’re not off the hook yet.'

Then her voice came through the speaker again, calm but firm. “Now, darling, be a dear and hand the phone over to Sae. I’d like a word with my son.”

Your grin widened. “Of course,” you said sweetly, holding the phone out to him. “It’s for you.”

Sae sighed, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Tell her I’m not here,” he muttered.

“Pretty sure she already knows you are,” you replied, shaking the phone for emphasis. “No escaping this one, superstar.”

He shot you one last glare. "You’re not gonna let me forget this, are you?"

“Not a chance,” you replied, your grin widening as he took the phone from your hands. “But hey, at least now we know what happens when you get too cocky.”

Sae let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly resigned to all this. His usual deflection didn’t work as well this time.

He lifted the phone to his ear, "Hi, Mom." He muttered, trying his best to sound nonchalant, but his posture had stiffened. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Don’t you “Hi, Mom” me, ITOSHI SAE!” his mother’s voice finally snapped. “What’s this nonsense I’m hearing about you two? Running around Spain causing a spectacle for the media, playing to their little games!?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “So she’s got the bold font superpower too, huh?” you muttered mostly to yourself, but loud enough for also him to hear. The sheer power of that 'ITOSHI SAE' was like a force of nature.

His teal eyes hardened, shooting you a glare, his discomfort obvious, but you could tell he wasn’t used to this level of public embarrassment. His mother had always been a force to be reckoned with, but now she was using her bold-letter power on him too. “It’s not like that,” he started, his voice dry and flat. “We’re just—”

“No excuses, Sae. I’ve seen the footage. I’ve heard the rumors. You’re not going to get away with this one. Not while I’m around,” she interrupted, her voice unyielding.

You leaned against the doorframe, biting back a laugh as his mother’s voice carried through the speaker, scolding him in rapid-fire Japanese. Sae’s expression didn’t change, though his lips pressed into a thin line.

After a few minutes, he handed the phone back to you. “She’s done,” he said flatly, though the faint pink tint to his ears gave him away.

You took the phone, grinning. “She gave you the ‘focus on football, not nonsense’ speech, didn’t she?”

“She’s very thorough,” he deadpanned.

“Welcome to my world,” you said with a shrug, bringing your phone on speaker to bid your farewells.

Your mother’s voice came through the speaker, her tone still a little sharp. “Sae, this better not happen again…”

Sae braced himself, his expression turning completely blank as he muttered a weak greeting. “Hi, Ma'am.” He visibly straightened, his usual confidence momentarily chipped away by the dual maternal interrogation.

“Sae, behave,” his mother chimed in. “And don’t get each other in trouble. I’m trusting you to be the responsible one here. You should know better.”

Your mother didn’t miss a beat, her tone taking on a teasing edge. “Exactly. Boys are supposed to protect, not cause chaos. How could you let this happen under your watch, Sae?”

You shot a glance at Sae, his face betrayed none of the usual confidence, just a tense concentration.

You bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing a grin as Sae’s blank expression barely wavered, save for the faintest furrow of his brow. His mother’s voice, now layered with a hint of amusement, added to the jab. “Honestly, Sae, I thought you were more sensible than this. I expected better from you.”

You could almost hear the corners of your mother’s mouth curve up. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m taking care of it,” she replied with a playful note. “You know how it is with these kids—they think they’re invincible.”

Despite the constant jabs, you knew Sae wasn’t the type to let anything truly reckless happen—not to you, not to himself. If anything, he was the one who kept everything grounded, often steering things back on track. Yet here he was, taking the brunt of both mothers’ wrath, enduring their playful scolding like the stoic shield he was.

Sae sighed quietly, and you nudged his arm gently. “Hey, just look at it this way—you’re their golden boy, hm?”

Sae's teal eyes rolled a sideways glance at you, his lips twitching as though he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

"Well, Y/n.." His mother trailed off. “Please make sure my son is behaving himself. He has a tendency to… push boundaries when he thinks no one’s watching.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden turn of the conversation. “Uh, I’ll do my best?” you replied hesitantly, shooting a glance at Sae, who looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“And one more thing,” she added, her voice firm but tinged with an almost playful seriousness. “Don’t let him get away with anything when it comes to you. Don’t let him have his way, understand?”

Your face flushed instantly, the implication of her words hitting you like a freight train. “W-Wait, what—”

Sae, who had been silently enduring the conversation, finally turned his head sharply toward the phone, his ears turning a suspicious shade of pink. “Mom.” He interjected, his tone low and warning.

But his mother was undeterred. “Oh, don’t ‘Mom’ me, Sae! I mean it." Then, his mother released a sigh. “It’s just.. the two of you are out there in Spain... no one else can keep an eye on you. Be rational, okay? Don’t give us a reason to fly over there and check on you myself.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, despite the heat still burning your cheeks. “Noted, Mrs. Itoshi. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sae groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you done?”

“For now,” she replied smoothly. “I’m just making sure things are in order. Y/n, thank you for putting up with him. You’re a saint.”

Sae muttered something under his breath, “unbelievable.”

You snorted. “Of course, Mrs. Itoshi. Someone's gotta bash him in his head from time to time.”

Even with his mom’s playful but pointed implication, you knew better. Sae would never do anything out of line with you, nor anything that would make you uncomfortable. For all his aloofness and sharp edges, he’d always been careful around you—attentive in his own way.

The thought softened the embarrassment lingering in your chest, and you glanced at him, his hand still dragging down his face as he muttered under his breath despite his irritation.

“But don’t think I won’t call again if I hear more nonsense.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath at the thought, but the tension didn’t seem to break on Sae’s side. He eventually muttered, “We'll do our best, Mom, Mrs. L/n.”

“Good,” Sae’s mom said firmly, a slight note of relief in her voice. There was a faint shuffling sound on the other end, like the phone being passed, until your mother’s voice entered the conversation. “I trust you’ll both be on your best behavior.”

You chimed in quickly, trying to get the conversation over with. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Itoshi, Mom. We’ll keep things in check.”

Your mother let out a hum of approval. “Good. And remember, we’re just a call away if you need a reminder.”

“Duly noted,” you replied with a nervous laugh, glancing at Sae.

With that, the call ended, leaving you standing there, Sae released an exasperated sigh and immediately dropped his shoulders in relief. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Sae shook his head, stepping back into his room. “Next time, leave me out of it.”

You smiled. Despite the scolding and the embarrassment, there was something undeniably comforting about moments like these—a reminder of home, even when you were miles away.

You were about to turn and leave when something inside you decided it wasn’t time to bail just yet. You stepped forward, casually walking right past Sae into his room before the door could fully shut behind him.

Sae froze, slitted eyes widening in surprise. “What—”

You shrugged again, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “No reason. Just hanging around.”

Before he could protest, a sudden ring cut through the air. The sound was familiar, but louder than usual. You glanced at Sae, eyebrow raised, but his face shifted quickly from surprise to annoyance as he grabbed his phone.

“Who’s calling you now?” you asked, leaning back against his desk as he answered the phone.

At first, Sae’s face was unreadable, but then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You could hear his voice, but just barely. You noticed and gave a slight smirk. “Guess it’s your turn for Rin’s wrath.”

Rin. The name was almost like a curse for Sae—he loved his brother, of course, but when it came to their sibling dynamics, it was always a bit chaotic.

You couldn’t help but lean in, curiosity piqued. Expecting his mom to be back on the line, you were caught off guard when Sae’s little brother spoke up from the other end.

“Hey, nii-chan,” Rin’s voice sounded loud and clear, filled with that usual mix of child-like wonder and boyish innocence. “I’m hearing things from the media again... What’s going on with you and Y/n? You two are seriously causing a stir.”

Sae’s face flushed even more, a mix of frustration and, if you were reading him right, embarrassment.

“You’re already hearing about that, huh?” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Of course I am!” Rin responded, completely unbothered by his brother’s apparent discomfort. “But seriously, are you two that close now? Should I be worried?”

You almost snorted at the lighthearted tone in Rin’s voice. It was all teasing, but there was an undertone of real curiosity—or maybe just a little bit of jealousy? You couldn’t help but smirk at how Rin always found ways to poke fun at Sae, no matter how far apart they were.

Sae didn’t answer right away, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment as he sighed. “Just... keep your nose out of this, Rin.”

You snickered at his reaction, walking closer and casually sitting down on Sae’s bed, still enjoying his discomfort. You decided to butt in, taking hold of his phone.

“Hey, Rin—”

“Y/n! What in the world are you two doing over there?” Rin’s voice came through sharp.

“Uh, playing football?” you tried, his sudden change in tone was something you weren’t expecting, but has anything ever went your way ever for the past day?

“You know what I mean,” he whined. “I can’t go five minutes without seeing some clip of you two looking… weird! People are saying stuff!”

You leaned back against the headboard, glancing at Sae, who had now propped himself up on one elbow on his desk, silently listening. “Rin, it’s nothing. The media’s just exaggerating.”

“Oh, really? Because it doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ when she’s running her hands through your hair, Sae,” Rin shot, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

Sae, finally engaging, sat up and snatched his phone from your hand, holding it to his ear. “What’s your problem, Rin?” he asked bluntly.

“My problem?” Rin’s voice grew louder. “My problem is that you two are over there acting all… close, while I’m stuck here dealing with everything alone!”

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Sae sighed. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not like we’re having fun. We’re working, just like you.”

“You don’t get it,” Rin muttered, his voice quieter now. “You both left. And it’s… it’s hard seeing you two together there. Without me.”

Your chest ached at his words. Taking the phone back, you softened your tone. “Rin, we miss you, too. It’s hard for us here, you know that. But we’ll come back—this isn’t forever.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, though it sounded half-hearted. “Just… stop making headlines, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

You laughed, and even Sae’s lips twitched upward. “No promises,” you teased, earning a low groan from Rin before he hung up.

As you set the phone aside, Sae leaned back against his desk-chair, arms crossed. “He’s such a pain,” he muttered, though there was a faint fondness in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “But he’s our pain.”

“Whatever, I want you out of my room before dinner time. I have to take a shower.”

“Bleh!”

“💢💢💢”

* * *

© mreowsu

[multific]

Behind Locked Doors 

Simon Kalivoda x Reader

Summary: You were only meant to put the supplies away. But now you are locked in there with Simon. 

It was supposed to be a quick thing. 

You were asked to put away some supplies in the back room. 

You didn't expect to be trapped in here with Simon, of all people. But now, with the door locked and no way to get out, you found yourself standing in the small, cluttered supply room. 

You felt the tension between you both.

“Great,” Simon muttered, trying the handle for what seemed like the fifth time. “This is just fantastic.”

“We’re not exactly in danger. I mean, at least we’ve got all these supplies to keep us company.” You tried to laugh it off. 

“Yeah, real cosy.” he laughed a little.

Your eyes scanned the room, trying to ignore the awkwardness hanging in the air. 

You couldn’t help but notice how Simon was standing a little closer than usual, his posture relaxed but somehow still tense. 

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it felt different, you thought it was the room, the fact that you were locked in there, made him nervous.

“Guess we’re stuck here for a while,” you said, shifting on your feet, trying to break the awkward tension.

Simon nodded, his gaze flicking to the door one last time before he looked at you. 

There was something in his expression that you couldn't quite put your finger on. 

Took you a while for you to realize, he wanted to say something.

“Look, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while. And I know this is not the best circumstance, and I’m not good at this, but I think you should know. I like you. A lot. I’ve liked you for a while.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you processed his words. 

All that time you’d spent wondering if he noticed you if he even saw you as more than just someone he went to the same school with and now here he was, admitting it.

“Wait, are you really?” You heard how surprised you sounded. And you really were.

Simon rubbed the back of his neck, and let out a nervous laugh. 

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve been dumb about it, honestly. But I think it’s about time I admitted it.”

For a moment, you were silent, your mind racing. 

You never thought he might feel the same way.

“Well, I—” You started, but the nerves almost got the better of you. “I like you too, Simon. I’ve liked you since you helped me out on my first day. I didn’t know if you even saw me the same way. Or if you even noticed me.”

Simon’s face lit up with a smile, it was the most beautiful smile you have ever seen.

“So… I guess this means you’re, like, my girlfriend now, right?”

“I hope so.” he wanted to laugh but held it in. 

The smile on his face got bigger, and without another word, he pulled you into a hug. 

His hug was warm and comforting, and for the first time, everything felt right. Ever since you moved to Shadyside. 

Being stuck in a supply room with Simon didn’t seem so bad anymore.

But just as the moment started to settle in, there was a loud rattle at the door. 

You both jumped apart, and Simon scrambled to the door, pulling it open with a sigh of relief. 

Mr. Hall stood there, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What are you two doing in here? The bell’s about to ring,” Mr. Hall asked, looking between the two of you.

“Uh, we got stuck. Lock malfunction.” Simon grinned.

“Just don’t make a habit of it.” Mr. Hall gave you both a sceptical look but shrugged. 

As the teacher left, Simon turned to you, with excitement in his eyes. 

“So, about that date… How about dinner tonight?”

You smiled, the butterflies in your stomach still in a whirlpool. 

“Dinner sounds perfect.”

“Seven o’clock?”

“Seven works for me.”

And just like that, your first real date with Simon was set. 

The fact that it had started with being stuck in a supply room didn’t seem so bad after all. 

At least, you learned that your little crush wasn't so hopeless after all. 

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief  

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 009

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

(Repost with extra things added at the end)

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

Rating: 18+ (Use of drugs)

Not proofread

Tags: @fan-goddess @meowmeowmothermeower @bunxia @your-favorite-god @coolalienstatesmansports @georgiatesulitsyeykite @qwerrtsworld @wegottastayfocus @dakota-rain666 @talilosha @the-deep-dark-abyss @101crows @agustdeeyaa @ggglich-exe @illjhhlisa @deepeststarlightmoon @cluelessteam @a-fruity-snack @i-zenin @justablondeeee @feyresqueen @yduimobsessed @pinkluv29 @xmenteria @itwaszzmoon

WC: 16k

1st day of the 6th moon of 129AC

Dear Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon, 

It has been a week since my departure from DragonStone and I was not able to bid you farewell properly, but most importantly—I was not able to apologize. I am sorry. I shouldn’t should not have said that. It was in crude taste, but I understand you shoulder a great weight and for me to add to that, I am sorry. Since I have arrived here, you have been one of my only friends and I value your friendship more than anything I have here. You are the only person who knows who I am, and I mean who I truly am. Not someone from Essos or wherever else other people think I’m from. You have seen things that I doubt I will ever show anyone ever again because I trust you as a friend and I am sorry that I have offended you and I am sorry for even speaking such things in the first place. I do not wish to lose you as a friend.

(P.S. I would’ve rewrote the letter but I ran out of paper.)

…

Three weeks left, it’s all you have before you have to present your grand ideas of a capitalist economy and yet you were here slaving away in the kitchen because your cannabis plant finally dried properly. 

“What are you doing?” A voice sounded behind you and you jumped.

 “Wha-” You turned around to see Aegon. “What are you doing here? This is a kitchen. Only servants enter.” 

“Exactly servants. Have you been demoted?” Aegon laughed looking at you. Your dress is covered in smeared handprints of flour. 

“No. If you must know, I'm doing something your father asked of me.” You turned around going back to mixing your concoction. Aegon peeked over your shoulder with a grin. “That looks like—” He pointed and you slapped his hand away.

“Yes I know, shut up.” You went back to mixing the white sticky substance. 

“What is it?” You didn’t respond so Aegon looked around the kitchen seeing your mess. There were white squares and he touched them. It was soft, fluffy. “Can I eat this?”

That seemed to catched your attention because you turned around as soon as he asked. Aegon picked up the soft white square smelling it. It smelled light and like an airy vanilla. “No. Put that down, it's for your children.” After hearing that he tossed it in his mouth. It was soft and chewy, sweet, but not too sweet. He shook his head looking at you. “You can’t feed these to my children.” He spoke with his mouth full going to go eat another.

“Stop, do you know how hard it was to make that!?” You came to Aegon trying to take away the sweets. 

“You are going to make my children fat. My daughter—Jaehaera—cannot get fat. No lord will want to marry her. Neither can my son…” He popped another in his mouth watching you and your expressions. “And Helaena is still my wife. My mother still expects more children and if I must…” He swallowed the sweet treat. “Well it's already hard enough fucking my own sister, don’t make it any harder.” 

You were left speechless…well…at least he didn’t take any pleasure in having children with his sister. 

Aegon ignored your pointed look, his gaze fixed on the platter. “What’s that?”

“Something for the King,” you replied briskly, moving toward the oven to check on your latest ‘experiment.’

“Can I try it?” he asked, already reaching for the platter.

“You won’t like it,” you warned, not bothering to turn around.

A moment later, you heard the unmistakable sound of gagging. Your eye twitched as a wave of irritation swept over you.

“You’re right, that was nasty,” Aegon groaned, smacking his lips. “The aftertaste is horrid.” He sauntered over to join you, peering curiously into the oven.

“You only took one bite, right?” you asked, casting him a sidelong glance.

“Why?” he asked with a crooked grin. “Are you about to commit regicide?”

You blinked, calculating the possible outcomes of his impulsiveness. Then, with a sigh, you straightened up and met his gaze. “...You’ll be fine,” you said finally, though your tone wasn’t exactly reassuring.

Aegon rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, grimacing. “Yeah… well, I don’t feel fine. I’m not floating in the clouds or anything, but I feel… funny.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, muttering under your breath as you turned back to the oven. “Maybe next time, listen when I tell you something.”

That was weird though, even on your first time trying edibles, they didn’t affect you that fast. Did you make them too strong? Maybe it’s best to cut them into smaller pieces then. 

Still a high for the first time Aegon is not something you want to be in trouble for. “Why don’t you meet me in the library? After I deliver these to your father.”

Aegon flashed you a flirty smile. “Eager to see my dragon?” 

“Begging your grace.” You spoke, rolling your eyes, turning away from him, making more of your make-shift rice-crispy edibles. Making marshmallows and cereal wasn’t as hard as you thought it was going to be.

Aegon let out a smile a little too loud than he normally would. 

Seriously, it never acted this fast for you. 

Hands wrapped around your waist as he murmured into your ear. “I’ll be waiting.” Before he kissed your cheek and left you.  You were left standing there. It was clear his high was going to prompt a high sex drive. Wonderfull. As if you didn’t have enough with the younger brother. 

A shame you did not see Aegon sneak another two or three as he left the room.

Finishing your last batch you turned to take out your homemade pizza out the oven. Pizza is as old as time. Italy isn’t the only place that's ever made it, but as far as this world is concerned, it’s going to come from you. Pizza is commoner food, easy to make with basic things anyone can get, bread, cheese, tomato, and other toppings if available. Your prediction is that it’s going to be a hit with the commoners. You’d just sell the ingredients or maybe just open the pizzeria. How hard could it be? 

First however, you needed to be a charity project. Help out with the starving. Starving, unhygienic people. It made you shiver. 

“Dyana!” You called and she came running. “Yes, take this to my ‘place of work,’ and have someone bring me my ‘refrigerator.’ That’s all, thank you.” 

A while back you had come with the brilliant idea of how to store goods. Of course there was drying out the food using the sun or covering it in salt, but…a zeer pot works best for you. It's an ancient technique that relies on evaporative cooling to reduce the temperature inside the jar, making it suitable for storing perishables. Very simply actually, it was a wonder how they haven’t done this yet. (Well they still did believe in spontaneous generation) No matter, more money for you once you get this patent idea out.

Cutting your edibles into smaller pieces you plated them ready to take it to the King. It wasn’t long before another servant came with your jars. You smiled and opened your and carefully stored them.

Finally, plate in hand, you made your way to the King’s chambers. With any luck, Alicent wouldn’t be there. Ever since you’d ditched her at the sept... well, things hadn’t exactly been cordial. Otto was even worse. The man seemed determined to make you regret every breath you took. Helping them nearly commit treason probably didn’t win you any favors. Just wonderful.

You reached the grand oak door and knocked firmly. It opened moments later, and you stepped inside.

“Your Grace,” you greeted, offering a stiff curtsy. Even after all this time, the motion felt awkward, like your body resisted the formality. Maybe it was your knees, or your hips, or perhaps even your ribs—all of which never fully recovered from that accident. That car slamming into you had left its mark, both physically and mentally. It was a miracle you hadn’t suffered any internal bleeding or broken bones, though it sure had felt like it at the time.

The King looked up from his chair, his face lighting up at the sight of you. “Ah, there she is,” Viserys said warmly, gesturing for you to come closer. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten me.”

“Never, Your Grace,” you replied with a small smile, stepping forward to present the plate. “You asked for something to help you relax, and I’ve crafted just the thing. A treat that’s as delightful to the palate as it is to the mind.”

Viserys leaned forward, intrigued by the small, golden-edged squares. “What are these?”

“They’re called... crispy rice delights,” you said, deciding not to overcomplicate the name. “Sweetened with honey and bound together with butter. Light and chewy, and utterly harmless.” Your smile was sweet, almost innocent, though the last part was perhaps a touch generous.

Viserys picked one up, turning it over in his fingers with mild curiosity before taking a cautious bite. A soft crunch filled the room, followed by a quiet hum of approval.

“Remarkable,” he said after a moment, reaching for another piece. “And you’re certain this will help me unwind?”

“It should, Your Grace,” you assured him with an encouraging nod. “The ingredients are simple, but I’ve added a touch of my... expertise to make them particularly effective. A small indulgence to ease the mind.”

Viserys chuckled, his mood visibly lifting. “You always surprise me with your ingenuity. Perhaps I’ll save the rest for later tonight, after council business.”

You nodded, hiding the flicker of unease that stirred within you. “A wise choice, Your Grace. Though I might suggest savoring them slowly. Too much too quickly may result in… an unusually vivid state of relaxation.”

Viserys raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you mean by vivid?”

“Well,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “the body may feel unusually light, as though untethered. Thoughts could take on a dreamlike quality, wandering freely, and the edges of the world may blur in a pleasant haze. It is soothing, but perhaps… a bit distracting if one isn’t expecting it.”

“Ah,” Viserys said, clearly not discouraged. “Then it’s good I’m not on the council floor.” He popped another piece into his mouth.

You curtsied, preparing to take your leave. “If there’s nothing else you require, Your Grace, I’ll leave you to enjoy your evening.”

He waved you off, his attention already fixated on the plate. “Yes, yes, go. You’ve done well as always.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” you said, retreating with measured steps. Once the door clicked shut behind you, you exhaled quietly, allowing the faint tension in your chest to ease.

If all went as planned, the King would find himself pleasantly unburdened by the time the effects set in. If not… well, the rest of your evening might prove unexpectedly eventful.

Now for the other part of your evening: Aegon.

He’d decided earlier to sneak a bite of one of your experiments, ignoring every warning you gave. And now, if the hurried whispering of the servants was to be believed, the prince was wandering around the library giggling like a fool and marveling at the candles. Typical.

Though he had only taken a bite, there was no way he should be feeling this high this hard. If anything a couple giggles and nothing more. 

Making your way through the dimly lit halls, you kept your pace brisk but not rushed. You couldn’t exactly run—not with how stiff your body could get when you overdid it—but the urgency pressed on your shoulders nonetheless. If anyone important caught sight of Aegon in his current state, Otto would no doubt find a way to blame you for corrupting the prince. Again.

By the time you reached the library, it was quiet save for the faint flicker of candlelight and the occasional sound of rustling parchment. You scanned the aisles, listening for any telltale signs of chaos. A soft laugh, almost childlike, drifted from the far corner.

“Aegon,” you called softly, making your way toward the sound. Rounding the last row of shelves, you found him sprawled on the floor, staring up at the vaulted ceiling as though it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

And oh my goodness, his eyes were pink. With one bite? No, they couldn’t have been that strong. God, how would the King react!? He had eaten one whole. You should’ve told him only one. 

You were so dead.

“This place is amazing,” he said dreamily, waving a hand at nothing in particular. “All these books… why are there so many? Who’s read them all? Do you think they’ve read all of them?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Aegon, what are you doing?”

“I’m thinking,” he said, sitting up slightly. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, and there was a faint flush on his cheeks. “I’ve never thought this much before. Did you know books smell different at night? Like... like they’re dreaming, too.”

You stared at him for a long moment. “Listen to me Aegon, you’re high.”

“Noooo,” he drawled, grinning lazily. “I’m enlightened.”

“Right,” you muttered, crouching down beside him. “Come on, you need to get up before someone sees you like this.”

“But why?” he whined, flopping back against the floor dramatically. “The floor is so cool. And these lights—look at them! They flicker like tiny dragons. Do you think they know they’re dragons?”

You suppressed another sigh, wondering if maybe the library wasn’t the best place. Maybe it wasn’t too late to smuggle him back to his chambers unnoticed. Grabbing his arm, you hauled him up with surprising effort. “You’re lucky Aegon,” you muttered.

“I am lucky,” he said, leaning heavily on you as you guided him toward the exit. “You’re amazing. Like… the best. You’re like a book, but alive. A live book.”

“Just keep walking,” you said, resisting the urge to laugh. The sooner you got him out of here, the better. He kept leaning into you, his body a dead weight against your side as you struggled to keep your balance.

And then you saw it—a flash of movement as his hand reached into his pocket and pulled something out. You froze for half a second, horrified.

“Aegon!” you snapped, glaring at the suspiciously familiar square in his hand. “How many did you eat?”

He blinked at you, as though trying to remember. “Two?” he said after a beat, holding up three fingers.

“Stop! Aegon, no!” You grabbed for the edible, but he stumbled back, clutching it to his chest like it was some sort of sacred treasure.

“They’re mine!” he slurred, grinning mischievously. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“I literally am right now,” you hissed, lunging for him again. He dodged with surprising agility—or maybe it was just your body’s stiffness slowing you down. Either way, he darted behind a shelf, giggling like a madman.

“Aegon, I swear—,” you muttered, chasing after him.

“Calm down,” he said, popping the edible into his mouth with theatrical defiance. “What’s the worst that could happen? I’ll just be… double enlightened!”

“You’re gonna green out Aegon! You’ve never done this before!” you shot back, your frustration mounting. “And then I’ll have to explain to the Queen why her son is drooling on himself in the middle of the library!”

He laughed, a sound that echoed far too loudly in the quiet space. “You worry too much,” he said, swaying as he tried to lean casually against the shelf. It didn’t work; he slid down to the floor in a heap, still grinning.

You crouched in front of him, your hands on your knees as you stared him down. “Alright, listen to me,” you said, your voice low and firm. “You cannot eat any more of these, understand? I don’t care if they taste like heaven itself—you’re done.”

He tilted his head, his eyes glassy but vaguely focused on you. “You’re so serious all the time,” he murmured, poking your arm with a lazy finger. “It’s cute.”

You groaned, standing back up and grabbing his arm. “Come on, Prince Enlightened. Let’s get you to bed before you start philosophizing about candle wax or something equally ridiculous.”

“Candle wax,” he mused as you hauled him to his feet. “Why does it melt? Is it sad? Do you think it misses being a candle when it’s just a puddle?”

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Let’s just focus on walking,” you said through gritted teeth, dragging him toward the exit. Aegon stumbled along beside you, still muttering half-formed thoughts about the existential plight of candles.

The library’s dim light and solemn silence made his absurdity even more unbearable as Aegon giggled uncontrollably.

“Quiet,” you hissed, glancing around. “Do you want people to see you like this?”

“See me?” he asked, slurring the words. “I’m a prince. They’re lucky to—hic—breathe the same air as me.”

“God help me,” you muttered under your breath. “Keep it together, Aegon. We’re almost there.”

As you rounded a corner, Aegon suddenly stopped, his arm jerking you to a halt. “Wait!” he said, his tone serious for the first time all evening.

“What now?” you asked, exasperated.

He squinted at a tapestry on the wall, his eyes wide with a kind of wonder you hadn’t expected. “Look at it,” he whispered, pointing dramatically.

You glanced at the tapestry—a perfectly ordinary depiction of dragons and knights. “It’s a tapestry,” you said flatly.

“No, it’s more than that,” he insisted, swaying as he stared at it. “The dragons… they’re like… us.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Aegon, we are not dragons.”

He turned to you, his expression solemn. “Not with that attitude.”

“Alright, that’s it.” You tightened your grip on his arm and started dragging him again. “We’re leaving before you start a lecture series.”

Aegon laughed as you pulled him along, his steps growing heavier with each passing moment. By the time you reached the hallway leading to his chambers, he was leaning on you entirely, his weight making your arms ache.

“Almost there,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

Aegon sighed dramatically, his head lolling onto your shoulder. “You’re so nice,” he mumbled. “Why’re you so nice to me? Nobody else is this nice.”

You paused, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His face was soft, vulnerable in a way that made your chest tighten.

“I’m not nice,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter. “I just…” I don’t want to be killed. Is what you wanted to say and what was true, but Aegon in this state…well why not humor him. “I don't want you to get hurt.”

He hummed, his eyes fluttering closed. “Still nice,” he murmured, his words slurring together.

You shook your head, hauling him the last few feet to his door. As you shoved open the door, you couldn’t help but think that this was the closest you’d ever seen to Aegon being truly at peace.

And it had only taken two edibles and a philosophical crisis about candle wax.

You pushed the door open with your shoulder, nearly tripping over Aegon as he slumped heavily against you.

“Just sit down,” you muttered, dragging him toward the nearest chaise. He stumbled, flopping onto the cushions with a dramatic sigh, his limbs sprawled in every direction.

“This is great,” he mumbled, running his hands over the fabric. “So soft. Is this new? Feels new.”

“It’s not new, Aegon,” you replied, brushing your hair out of your face as you straightened up. “You’ve been sitting on this chaise for years. Now stay here and don’t—”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out another edible with a sheepish grin.

“Aegon! How many of those do you have?” you snapped, snatching it out of his hand.

“Relax,” he drawled, waving you off. “It’s just one. Or maybe two? Wait… was it three?”

You stared at him, horrified. “Aegon, stop! No more! Do you have any idea what’s in these?”

“Deliciousness,” he replied, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Want one?” 

“Yes Aegon, give me all the ones you have.” You watched him pat himself and a pout form on his lips. 

“It’s gone.” He mumbled and you sighed. As long as he didn’t have anymore. 

“Okay Aegon, go to sleep.”

“No, I’m okay. I’m…” He began giggling. “I swear, I don’t why” Aegon couldn’t finish his sentence as he began to laugh even more. You saw his legs go weak and he was on the floor laughing. You were left standing there in his chambers. “I don't know why I’m laughing. I’m okay!” You watched as Aegon kept trying to stand but he just couldn’t. 

Ignoring his antics, you started pacing, glancing toward the door to make sure no one had followed you. “This is a disaster,” you muttered under your breath. “If anyone sees you like this…”

Finally after a while his laughter ceased and he crawled to his bed using it as a pillar to hold on to as he dragged himself up. “See me like what?” Aegon interrupted, throwing his arms wide. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine. The picture of princely grace.”

You turned on your heel, fixing him with a glare. “You’re high as a kite and acting like an overgrown child. That’s not fine.”

He blinked at you, then grinned. “You know, you’re cute when you’re mad. And in any case you came to the library to meet me and now we're in my room.” He began to unbuckle his pants. “My dragon is ready.”

“Aegon no.” You rushed to him holding his hands in place as you tried to keep his pants up. He bucked into your hands and tangled his hands in your hair pulling you closer to him. 

“You always smell so good.” Aegon inhaled you as you tried to buckle his hands ignoring the obvious…issue he was having. “So good,” he mumbled into your neck, still smelling you. “I wanted to do this for so long, since the first night we danced. You smelled so good back then too. Sweetest thing I’ve ever smelt. You ruined whores f’me.”  His words slurred together. 

“Aegon, go to sleep.” You pushed him off of your and he landed on his bed. 

“I like where this is going.” He smiled as he went to take off his shirt. 

“Stay here.” You pointed at him raising a brow while walking away slowly. You can’t be caught in this man’s room while he’s trying to undress. It would be catastrophic for you. 

Aegon propped himself up on his elbows, his half-lidded eyes watching you retreat. “You’ll come back?” he asked, his voice carrying a surprising hint of vulnerability.

“Yes, I will… later,” you assured him, forcing a smile. “Pretend to sleep. Count to two hundred, and then backward. That’s when I’ll come back, okay?”

He blinked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he nodded lazily. “Two hundred… backwards. Got it.”

You pressed yourself against the cold stone of the secret door in his chamber, the familiar click sounding as it swung open. You slipped through, casting one last glance over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following.

The moment the door closed behind you, you exhaled a shaky breath. The dark corridors of Maegor’s secret passageways enveloped you in their eerie silence. No matter how many times you traversed these halls, they always felt like something out of a spy’s tale—clandestine and slightly dangerous.

Your steps echoed faintly as you navigated the maze-like tunnels. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of dust and old stone, and your fingers grazed the rough walls to keep your bearings. The darkness didn’t faze you anymore; you’d memorized these paths well enough to find your way without hesitation.

As you walked, your thoughts drifted to Aegon’s words. “You’ll come back?” The way he had said it… it was almost childlike, a far cry from his usual bravado. You shook your head, dismissing the thought. There was no time to dwell on Aegon’s fleeting vulnerability when you had your own problems to worry about.

Finally, you reached the hidden entryway to your own chambers. Pressing your ear against the door to ensure no one was nearby, you slipped through the opening and into the safety of your room. With a sigh of relief, you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.

Tomorrow would be another day of maneuvering through the precarious web you’d woven for yourself, but for now, you were content to have avoided yet another disaster.

…

9th day of the 6th moon of 129 AC

Your apology is well received. I must admit my reaction was excessive. I apologize for my outburst. This subject is as if one is probing at an open wound. For most of my life I have dealt with such claims. I thank you for your honest thoughts and like you, I value our friendship very much. You have shown me things that never in my life I would ever see, and for that I am grateful. Our time spent together in the Red Keep was most amusing and if you had been in better condition, I would’ve given you a proper show around Dragonstone. I have been told you prefer it to the Red Keep. There are many secrets within Dragonstone, and Luke told me you found the architecture most appealing. I was not aware you found such interest in architecture. Perhaps one day in the future when you come visit Dragonstone, I can show you more on the basis that you show another movie. I hope to hear from you soon.

(P.S. I do not know what that means.)

—Jacaerys Velaryon

…

“How many children do you reckon are in that orphanage?” you asked, cracking your knuckles as you leaned back in your chair.

“It’s the smallest one, m’lady. About twenty. I counted myself,” came the reply from a boy no older than ten. He stepped closer as you set down your quill.

“Atta boy. I’m glad you’ve taken to numbers so well.” You reached out to ruffle his hair with a smile, earning a shy grin in return.

“Are you almost finished with the story, m’lady?” He tilted his head, glancing at the parchment on your desk.

“Yes, just now,” you replied with a nod. “Has everyone bathed? And did your sister finish counting the coins?” Turning fully to face him, you withdrew your hand and gestured toward the other side of the room.

“I believe so, m’lady. Will you read us the story?” His eyes sparkled with curiosity, darting back to the writing. Recently, they’d all started learning to read, their progress slow but promising. Their handwriting was improving, too—a little shaky, but legible.

“I’ll read it to the orphans while you all distribute the food. You’ll hear it then,” you assured him before standing to let the ink dry. Your gaze shifted to a girl of about fifteen—the eldest of the group.

“How much?” you asked as you approached her.

“209 silver stags, 49 copper stars, and 56 copper pennies,” she replied promptly, holding out the coins in a small pouch.

“Good,” you said, inspecting the contents briefly. “Now, convert it into gold dragons for me.”

“1 gold dragon, 7 silver stags, and 0 copper pennies,” she calculated quickly.

You smiled, reaching into the pouch and pulling out a few coins. “Wonderful. Since you’re the eldest, here’s three silver stags. Use them to buy more sapwood smiles if needed and handle your groceries. Oh, and that old woman I pay rent to—I owe her one silver stag. Make sure she gets it.”

“Yes, m’lady.” She accepted the coins with a small nod.

“Alright then,” you said, turning your attention to the room. “Is everything packed?”

“Yes,” came a quick chorus of voices from the ten or so children bustling about.

“Good. Let’s get moving. One of you will lead the way,” you instructed, glancing at the youngest—a five-year-old clutching a small bundle tightly to his chest. The sight made your chest ache, but you pushed the feeling aside.

There was work to be done.

With everyone ready, you gave the signal, and the children lined up at the door. The eldest girl, clutching her share of coins, stepped forward to lead the group. You hung back for a moment, ensuring nothing had been forgotten. A single misstep—leaving behind even the smallest item—could unravel everything.

“All right, keep close to each other,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “No wandering off.”

“Yes, m’lady,” they chorused, their voices a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The streets were quieter than usual, though the occasional drunkard or suspicious glance reminded you that it was always best to move quickly. The youngest ones clutched their bundles tightly, their wide eyes taking in the night’s shadows.

“Head down, keep moving,” you instructed softly as you walked behind them, your eyes scanning for any sign of trouble.

The orphanage wasn’t far, but every step felt heavier under the weight of responsibility. The coins jingling softly in the pouch at your side reminded you of the risk you were taking. Feeding and sheltering this many children wasn’t just a kindness—it was a gamble. One wrong move, one sharp-eyed noble or greedy merchant, and you could lose everything.

As the group approached the orphanage, a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows: the matron, a stout woman with a lined face and sharp eyes that softened only for the children.

“You’re late,” she grumbled, though her tone held no real bite.

“I had extra mouths to feed,” you replied, tilting your head toward the children behind you. “Everything’s ready.”

The matron nodded and waved the group inside. “Come on, then. Quickly now.”

You stepped aside, watching as the children filed in, their small forms disappearing into the dimly lit building. The eldest paused at the door, glancing back at you with a questioning look.

“Go on,” you said softly. “I’ll join you soon.”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding and slipping inside.

Once the door closed, you exhaled, allowing yourself a brief moment to relax. This was your second time here in this orphanage. The last time you donated a silver moon, this time you would distribute food. The experiment you had done earlier this week. Pizza. An easy thing to make. 

You walked into the large hall watching your own children distribute the pizza. There should be enough for everyone to get, caretakers included. One of your children offered and you shook your head. It was for them. 

Finally you took your seat at the head of the hall.

The matron raised an eyebrow as you unrolled the parchment, settling onto the low wooden bench where the children had gathered. “What’s the story this time?”

You smiled faintly, glancing at the eager faces illuminated by the flickering firelight. “A tale of bravery,” you said. “A favorite tale of mine.”

The children murmured excitedly, scooting closer. Even the older ones who often acted aloof leaned in, their curiosity getting the better of them. “In a land far from here. On the greatest the old world had ever seen. On the Great Wall of China…”

…

18th day of the 6th moon of 129 AC

Dear Jacaerys Velaryon,

Thank you for accepting my apology, but I still find myself feeling very guilty, had I known more of your past I would’ve treated you more carefully, however it is still no excuse. In anycase, I am glad you value me as deeply as I value you. Maybe, one day in the future when my standing here in King’s Landing is solidified and I have a chance to simply enjoy life, I can go back to Dragonstone. Though I must say, I will not be going by boat, I get very sick while I’m on the boat. If I may be so bold, I would ask for another ride on Vermax. He was my first dragon riding experience after all. I enjoyed it, as I enjoy many things. My interest in the architecture of Dragonstone is rooted in the similarities that it shares with many old civilizations that I am currently trying to replicate, though no one knows that yet, but you are my friend and I hold no secrets from my friends. As for your request for another movie. I would be most happy to oblige. It has been quite some time since I have been able to just sit down and enjoy a movie like we did. I hope that peaceful times come soon for me. I hope to hear from you as well, I find this very fun. I have never sent any real letters before. I only played it when I was a child and I would ‘send’ them to my parents who lived in that house, so I do not think it really counts. I also like putting it on the bird. Really solidifies the feeling of being ‘old school.’

(P.S. In a letter, "P.S." is an abbreviation for "postscript" or in other words "PS" is used to add a comment, thought, or piece of information after the main message of a letter.)

…

You hummed softly listening to the music in your airpods, which you must say are pleasantly surprised they still work. In any case you had spent a good two hours sitting down revising your proposals, it it was good to stretch your legs. The place was mostly empty, save for the occasional assistant of the Grand Maester shuffling in to retrieve a book. You were tucked away on the second floor, near the window where the light spilled across your desk. It was quiet, and while you appreciated the peace, it left you alone with the nagging frustration simmering in your chest.

Two weeks. That’s all the time you had left before presenting your proposal to the council. It was… fine. Just fine. Average, really, and that wasn’t going to be enough. You had underestimated how much effort this would take—the endless revisions, the careful balancing act. The legal system you needed to make it work didn’t exist, and the proposal couldn’t take shape without it. A maddening little circle you had no way to break.

And then there was the second part of the plan. Bold. Revolutionary. Problematic. The council wouldn’t like it—it was too much, too fast. Change wasn’t something they handled well, not when it challenged their traditions. But you needed this to work. This proposal was your foothold, your insurance for when Rhaenyra took the throne.

Of course, with Rhaenyra came the biggest thorn in your side.

Daemon Targaryen.

The thought of him set your teeth on edge. His smug face, his mocking grin, that damned sword always resting on his side—it was enough to make your blood boil. You stopped pacing, gripping the windowsill as you stared out into the courtyard. Daemon wouldn’t just be an annoyance when Rhaenyra ruled; he’d be a threat. The first thing he’d probably do as King Consort would be to find some creative way to remove you from the picture.

The thought of it made your stomach churn. You could still see him, lounging in court like he had all the time in the world, Dark Sister resting beside him as though it was an extension of his hand. He could take you apart with a look if he wanted to, and he knew it.

“Arrogant bastard,” you muttered under your breath, your grip tightening on the windowsill.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus. You couldn’t afford to waste time stewing over Daemon—not when you still hadn’t worked out the finer points of your plan. You pulled your chair closer to the table, shuffling through the stack of parchment filled with half-formed ideas and discarded revisions.

“Two weeks,” you murmured to yourself, like it was some sort of mantra. “Two weeks to figure it out.” You dipped your quill into the inkpot, trying to center your thoughts, but his shadow lingered in the back of your mind. Daemon was a storm waiting to strike, and you’d need more than a clever proposal to keep him at bay.

Your gaze drifted to the side, landing on the smoking pipe resting on the table. Redwood—sturdy and elegant, though a pain to carve. You still remembered the splinters, but it had been worth it. Naturally fire-resistant and perfect for the task. And, as luck would have it, you had some of your stash with you.

To be clear, you hadn’t planned on smoking today. Truly, you hadn’t. But Daemon Targaryen had a way of grating on your nerves like no one else. The man was a living, breathing annoyance, and right now, he was just too much to deal with.

So, like any rational person faced with such frustration, you reached for the pipe.

It had been months since you last indulged, but as the smoke hit the back of your throat, you felt a strange kind of relief. You held it there for a moment before crossing to the window, exhaling slowly into the cool air. The effects wouldn’t take long. They never did—especially not after this much time.

You leaned against the window frame, the redwood pipe resting loosely between your fingers. The breeze from outside carried the remnants of smoke away, dissipating into nothing. It wasn’t long before the familiar warmth began to spread—a slow unraveling of tension, the sharp edges of your irritation softening.

Daemon’s smug face, his insufferable quips, his incessant need to loom over every room he entered—it all seemed… smaller now. Manageable. Almost amusing, if you thought about it the right way. You allowed yourself a small laugh, low and self-deprecating. “Imagine that,” you murmured to no one, “Daemon Targaryen, reduced to a passing annoyance.”

You took another hit as you were inhaling a voice sounded from behind you. “What are you doing?” You began coughing trying to blow away the smoke. It didn’t work. Aegon looked at you with a confused face. Why he was in here, you couldn’t say. Maybe he still had a little thorn on his side when you never returned last week to his chambers. Oh well. 

“What was that?” He raised a brow looking at you.

“Nothing.” You shook your head and shrugged playing dumb.

“I saw smoke come from your mouth.” 

“No…” You looked around feigning innocence. “No I don’t think so.” You barely had time to compose yourself before Aegon stepped closer to you, his brow furrowed in confusion and mild amusement. His eyes darted between you and the faint wisp of smoke still lingering near the window.

“Definitely saw smoke,” he said, crossing his arms. “Are you… burning something?”

“Of course not,” you replied quickly, waving a hand to dismiss the notion. “Why would I be burning something in a library?”

He squinted, his lips twitching with the beginnings of a smirk. “You’re lying.”

You straightened, feigning indignation. “I am not lying, Aegon.”

“Then what’s in your hand?” 

Your fingers instinctively tightened around the pipe, hidden just out of his view. “My hand is empty.”

“It’s definitely not.” He stepped closer, leaning in as if he could physically pry the truth from your demeanor. “And it doesn’t smell like nothing.”

You sighed, realizing you wouldn’t shake him off easily. “Fine. If you must know, I was testing… aromatics. For medicinal purposes.”

“Aromatics?” His grin spread wide now. “You mean you’re…. smoking something.”

“Not smoking,” you corrected with a pointed look. “Testing. Big difference.”

Aegon chuckled, leaning casually against the table as he tilted his head to scrutinize you. “You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you? What is it? Something strong? Do I get to try? Is it like whatever I ate last week? Also… you never came back.”

“No,” you replied firmly. “Absolutely not. And for the record, I did come back. You just didn’t wake up.” You gave a nonchalant shrug, as if it wasn’t worth elaborating further.

“Well, first off, you tricked me,” he shot back, narrowing his eyes in mock accusation. “And second, why not? Don’t you trust me?”

“Not even a little,” you deadpanned, turning back toward the window, deliberately avoiding his gaze. “And I didn’t trick you. You just fell asleep like a babe.”

“Because you told me to count! Everyone knows counting puts people to sleep,” he argued, pushing off the table and stepping closer. “In any case, you should share with the First Prince. It’s only fair.”

“No. You’ll choke,” you said flatly, already regretting engaging with him.

“Then teach me,” he pressed, his voice edging on a whine as he reached toward your hand.

“You don’t even know what it does.”

“No, but I want to try it,” he said with a mischievous grin.

“Okay… fine.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

“No,” you said, voice dry as the desert.

Aegon blinked, realization dawning as he groaned. “You’re not funny.”

You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at him. “I think I’m hilarious. But seriously, Aegon, this isn’t for you.”

“Why not? I’m practically an expert after last week,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “I survived, didn’t I?”

“Barely,” you muttered under your breath, turning back to the window and taking another drag. The smoke curled lazily in the air as you exhaled, letting the faint buzz settle in. “And you weren’t smoking. You ate an edible. Different effects. Besides, that edible should’ve taken time but you absorbed it like it was nothing and you were trippin’, I don’t think you can handle smoking it.”

Aegon wasn’t giving up. He stepped closer, his voice dripping with curiosity. “What’s it even like? Is it… calming? Does it make your thoughts clearer? Or fuzzier? I want to know. Also what is…tripping?”

You raised an eyebrow, finally turning to face him. “Smoking is faster, depending on the person. It takes the edge off, which, frankly, you don’t need. You’re already as sharp as a butter knife.” You giggled. “Trippin is the feeling you get when you’re high.” Your smile was ear to ear, like the way it always was when you were high. 

He gasped in mock offense, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. “That is cruel, my lady.”

“Is it?” you teased, taking another hit and blowing the smoke lazily in his direction.

Aegon grinned, entirely undeterred. “It is. And who better to share your experiments with than me?”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling slowly. “It’s not an experiment, Aegon. It’s just something I use when things get stressful. You don’t need this. You’ve got wine.”

He clapped his hands together, leaning forward eagerly. “One, please.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “One?”

“One,” he repeated, hands still clasped like a pleading child.

“Just one?”

“Just once,” he said with an exaggerated nod, already reaching for the pipe.

“Okay,” you relented, handing it over with a smirk. He took it, examining it like it was some foreign artifact before glancing back at you.

“What do I do?”

“You don’t know how to smoke?”

“No, we don’t smoke.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then how’d you know what it was called?”

“I saw it smoking, so I asked,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Oh.”

“So… what do I do?”

“Right. You inhale, hold it for a moment, then exhale. It’s something you’ll get the hang of.”

“Simple enough,” he said, bringing the pipe to his lips. He took a deep inhale, his face immediately turning red as he began to cough violently.

“What the—” he choked out, trying desperately to expel the smoke from his lungs. “Oh, gods—what is this?”

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Laughter bubbled out of you, loud and uncontrollable as you leaned against a nearby table for support.

Aegon scowled through his coughing fit, shoving the pipe back into your hands. “This is vile,” he croaked, clearing his throat.

Still laughing, you waved him off, struggling to catch your breath. “You… you said you wanted to try it!”

“Not like that!” he snapped, shaking his head but unable to suppress a grin of his own.

You took the pipe back, wiping tears from your eyes. “Stick to wine, Aegon.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” he muttered, his voice still hoarse as he flopped into a nearby chair. “That’s the last time I trust you with anything.”

“Good choice,” you quipped, smirking as you leaned back toward the window, savoring your small victory.

Eventually, you settled into the chair beside him, your eyes drifting to the scattered papers in front of you. Taking another long draw from the pipe, you exhaled a steady plume of smoke, watching it curl toward the ceiling.

“It seriously doesn’t burn for you?” he asked, rubbing at his throat.

“You probably did it wrong,” you said, shrugging. “It shouldn’t burn that bad. I messed it up my first time too. After a while, you either get used to it… or figure out a better way.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back and studying you skeptically. “And here I thought you were supposed to be a master of all things questionable.”

“Give it time,” you replied with a grin, tapping ash from the pipe. “You’ll be coughing less if you try again—maybe.”

“I’ll stick to wine,” he shot back, but the faintest trace of curiosity lingered in his voice. You shrugged before a silence overtook you both. You felt the effects coming in, your muscles relaxing and your eyes drooping slightly. The constant feel of gravity over your body. The music through your airpods felt magical. All you needed now was something to eat.

“So what is all this?” He gestured towards the table. 

You gave a sigh putting down the pipe. “Just some proposal.” As you spoke, puffs of smoke left you.

“A proposal?” Aegon leaned forward, his curiosity momentarily outweighing his usual apathy. His fingers drummed against the edge of the table as he glanced over the scattered papers. “What kind of proposal needs that much writing?”

You glanced at Aegon out of the corner of your eye and reached up to pause your music. “Every proposal, Aegon,” you muttered, sinking further into your chair. “I don’t even want to do it. It’s too much work. And it’s due in, what, two weeks?” You let out a laugh, sharp and self-mocking. “Yeah, no. It’s not happening.”

With the music paused and anticipating that Aegon wasn’t going to let the conversation die, you pulled out your AirPods case, idly tucking the buds back inside.

“What are those? I saw them in your bag. They go in your ears?” Aegon asked, eyeing the small white case with curiosity.

“Oh, right. You don’t have these here.” You held up the case, turning it in your hands. “They’re called AirPods. Yeah, they go in your ears so you can listen to music.”

“Music?” he echoed, tilting his head. “How does music come out of that?”

“Well, it doesn’t come from these exactly—it comes from this.” You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, waving it lightly.

“The box! I saw that too, but it looked different—the front wasn’t lighting up like that.” Aegon leaned closer, intrigued.

“It’s called a phone,” you corrected, smirking at his fascination. “Anyway, the music’s stored on here. It connects to the AirPods through Bluetooth, which basically lets devices communicate using short-range radio waves or... something like that.” You waved your hand vaguely, the effort to explain already feeling monumental in your current state. “It works. That’s all I care about.”

Aegon’s brows furrowed, clearly lost. “Right... and you’re not mad I went through your stuff?”

You shook your head, smiling faintly as you cleaned your AirPods case. “Honestly? I don’t feel anything right now.” You chuckled lazily. “But even if I did, I don’t think I’d care. As long as you didn’t break anything, it’s whatever.”

“I think I like you better like this,” Aegon said, grinning. You laughed, handing him the phone.

“What do I do with this... phone?”

“Swipe to the right.”

“Woah, what’s this?” He turned the phone over in his hands, staring at the screen like it might come alive.

“Here, let me see.” Your movements were slow, almost exaggerated as you reached over and took the phone back. “Say ‘cheese.’”

“Cheese?” he echoed, confused, just as you snapped a photo. You turned the phone to show him the image.

“Woah! It’s like a portrait, but... with the eye!”

“Yeah, it’s called a picture,” you explained, amused.

“What else can it do?”

“Well, before I ended up here? A lot of things.” You smiled softly, leaning back in your chair. “You remember that night we danced, and I said I’d show you the music from where I’m from?”

Aegon nodded eagerly. “You did. You said you’d teach me how to dance, too.”

Aegon grinned, settling comfortably into his chair. “Play something, then. Let’s see what your box can do.”

“Bet.” You smirked, scrolling through your library. “There’s a lot more, but this is all I managed to save before I ended up here, so... we’re working with limited options.” You handed him the phone. “Just press anything that looks interesting.”

A few moments later, a beat filled the air: “Siento aquí tu presencia. La noche de anoche. Y nos ponemos a llorar…” The music was loud. “Kendrick?” You laughed. “On your first song? You chose Kendrick?” You smiled standing up tapping his shoulder while ‘wacced out murals’ played. “I always knew you were something special.” You leaned back against the table. 

Aegon raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as the music unfolded. “This is music?”

You nodded, leaning back against the table, arms crossed. “This is a different genre. Hip-Hop. Rap, specifically. Kendrick’s a lyricist—his whole deal is using music to tell stories, share experiences, or make a point. It’s not just something you vibe to; you listen to it.” You smiled faintly, letting the song’s rhythm carry the conversation. “He’s got a lot to say, and he’s real good at saying it.”

Aegon studied you, his expression somewhere between amused and intrigued. “And this... this is what you listen to when you’re stressed?”

“Sometimes,” you admitted, taking another draw from your pipe and exhaling slowly. “Depends on the vibe. But Kendrick? He’s a solid choice for any mood. Especially if you’re from California, his music just hits better.”

“California?” Aegon asked, listening to the beat. 

You nodded. “He’s from the West Coast. It's the whole thing, East vs West. A whole story.” You took back your phone. “Y’know who else is from the West coast. This’ll give you a better idea of the rivalry.” You scrolled down smiling before pressing on it. 

“That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker. West side, Bad Boy killers.” You pointed at him as you spoke while Aegon’s eyes widened at the vulgar words. You let the song play as you took another hit from your pipe.“First off, fuck your bitch and the clique you claim. Westside when we ride, come equipped with game. You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife” You kept up with the lyrics while smiling watching Aegon’s face. You started laughing letting the song play. 

Aegon leaned forward, his brows lifting in shock as the opening lyrics hit him like a slap. “What!?” he exclaimed, his expression teetering between horrified and amused. “They just... say that? Openly?”

You sat on the table moving your head to the beat. “Yup. It’s a diss track. Did numbers in the 90s.” You probably shouldn’t be telling him about all of these things, but at this point, you weren’t really thinking. 

“Diss track? 90s?” he echoed, still staring at your phone like it was some kind of enchanted artifact.

“Yeah,” you said, amused by his wide-eyed curiosity. “Think of it like a verbal duel, but with rhythm and a beat. Tupac and Biggie—two legends, two coasts, locked in a rivalry that shook the world of music. This track? ‘Hit ‘Em Up.’ Was the best in my humble opinion.” 

“And he fucked his wife?” Aegon smiled listening to the song.

“He fucked his wife.” You confirmed smiling. “Yeah so many things happened and then…well then he was killed.” 

“For a song?” Aegon furrowed his brows. 

You nodded. “There was more at play but the whole entertainment industry is dark. So many things happen behind the scenes and sometimes people get killed. Also they were involved with gangs and things like that, so…”

“Voilent place.”Aegon said leaning back as the diss track played.

“Real voilent.” You nodded to the beat.

“Fuck you and yo’ motherfucking mama!” Aegon looked over to the phone shaking his head with a disbelieving laugh.

“Fuck Mobb Deep, fuck Biggie. Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label and as a motherfuckin' crew. And if you want to be down with Bad Boy, then fuck you too. Chino XL, fuck you too. All you motherfuckers, fuck you too” You laughed as you followed the lyrics while Aegon shook his head as you spoke the lyrics. “My favorite part.” 

“How vulgar. If only my mother heard you,” Aegon barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

“God, can you imagine? I’d be dead by tomorrow or something.” You chuckled, taking another hit before pausing, realizing you should probably stop. It’d been a while since your last session, and you didn’t want to risk greening out.

Aegon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You want to hear something real vulgar?” you asked, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “That was just talking shit. Female rappers these days? They go crazy. Sexxy Red, Ice Spice, Cardi B, Megan Thee Stallion. Though Nicki Minaj was the original—changed the whole game for female rappers back in the 2010s.”

Aegon squinted, incredulous. “What are these names? Ice Spice? What is that?” His laughter rang out, the disbelief plain on his face. “Sexxy Red? Seriously? Do people actually call themselves that?”

You nodded, grinning at his reaction. “Yup. Those are their stage names. It’s not their real names, obviously, but it’s what everyone knows them by. Think of it like... titles. Like how Aegon the Conqueror wasn’t really called that in day-to-day life—he was Aegon Targaryen. Same idea. It’s about building a persona, making a name that sticks.”

He tilted his head, considering it for a moment, a wry smile on his lips. “So you’re saying Ice Spice is their version of Aegon the Conqueror?”

You smirked. “Basically. You wanna hear one of her songs?”  

Aegon glanced around, his eyes scanning the room before walking to the edge of the balcony, checking to make sure the door was closed. When he turned back to you, he gave a quick nod. You smiled, stood up, and made your way over to him. He peered over your shoulder as you scrolled through your phone.  

“Hmmm... Deli? Oh! Look.” You tapped the screen, revealing “Gang Baby” by NLE Choppa. “It’s not Ice Spice, but the women aren’t the only ones speaking here. So, NLE or Ice? Which one do you want?”  

Aegon raised an eyebrow, eyeing you. “Which one’s better?”  

You shrugged. “Both are good, but NLE is a bit more…explicit. Ice has better beats, in my opinion.”  

He nodded thoughtfully. “Go with the girl, then.”  

You tapped on the song, and the familiar beat started to thump in the background. Aegon furrowed his brows, looking at your phone.  “Is that what she looks like?” he asked, eyes glued to the preview of the video that Spotify provided. There she was—Ice Spice, rocking her signature orange wig, booty shorts, and a white tank top.  

“Why is her hair like that? And...where are her clothes? She looks good. Nice arse. Bigger than yours.”  

You shot him an incredulous look. “The stray!?” you laughed, shaking your head. “Anyways, that's a wig. And that’s what we wear—or what we can wear. Short shorts and wife beaters.”  

“Wife beaters!?”  

“Yeah. It’s just the name they have. It's because that’s what men wear when they beat their wives,” You purse your lips nodding.

Aegon stared at you, wide-eyed while giving a disbelieving laugh.“Beat their wives!?”

“Well obviously it’s not accepted, but it’s another name those shirts have, because it falls in line with the stereotype, but yeah. It’s not funny but…it’s just a name they have. Tank tops or sometimes just undershirts, but I grew up with people calling them wife beaters.” You explained when the song came to an end. “Gang baby?” 

Aegon nodded and you pressed play. “Just listen.” As the lyrics began Aegon looked over with another disbelieving smile on his face. 

He turned to you, shaking his head with a crooked grin. “You’re mad for liking this.”

“Mad in a good way, though.”

He didn’t answer, letting the beat take over, though his face said enough: curious, entertained, and undeniably hooked. “She told you she celibate, but she told me I can nail her shit.” You mumbled along with the song.

“You’re celibate?” Aegon asked as he continued to listen. You looked up at him before nodding. “Yeah.” Were you? Not with his brother you weren’t. 

…

30th day of the 6th moon of 129 AC

There is no reason to feel your guilt. I assure you, everything has been forgiven. I do find myself wondering about your statement, about your security in King’s Landing. I am aware that Prince Daemon does not hold favorable feelings towards you however to fear that you are not safe within the Red Keep is a different matter entirely. Are you well? I am more than happy to extend an invitation for your stay here in Dragonstone if you feel your life is in peril, regardless of Prince Daemon’s feelings on the matter. I’m sure my Grandsire will not object to me being your personal escort to Dragonstone on Vermax if you dislike traveling by ship. I also enjoyed the joy ride we took on Vermax and I am more than willing to oblige with your request. Your stay here in Dragonstone would allow your studies to progress and my Grandsire I’m sure approves of this as your knowledge has helped him like no other has been able to. Dragonstone’s architecture has much to offer and is only rivaled by the Wall in the North, and Winterfell both designed by the engineering genius Bran the Builder. There is also the Hightower in Old town or Casterly Rock which is a castle built into a cliff side. There are many places but if you have an interest in the old world more reminiscent of Essos and Valyria Strongholds, Dragonstone is best. I am glad you value me as a friend enough to inform me of your endeavors. If you wish to explore civilizations of old then Old Valyria is best. My grandsire has an intense intrigue with our Valyrian roots. As the name suggests it had been here for many millennia and more and at its peak had over a thousand dragons and held most of Essos and ruled as overlords. 

I truly do hope to see you once more here in Dragonstone. 

(P.S. For your first letters they are well written and I must say that you are the first person I have ever truly sent letters too. I enjoy watching the birds return knowing that I am receiving a letter from you.)

…

If someone were to ask Alicent what she thought of you, Alicent would say that you were a peculiar girl (prone to sin) and had much potential (Not totally doomed to the Seven hells). Queen Alicent Hightower does not know you. Queen Alicent Hightower sees a desperate girl. Queen Alicent Hightower is not completely opposed to helping you.

However, Queen Alicent Hightower loves her children. Despite her failure with Aegon, she prides herself in her daughter, Helaena Targeyen. Her only daughter. (Even if she too is peculiar, but not your peculiar. Helaena can do no wrong and if she does, Helaena is a mother, mothers are prone to do peculiar things for their children.)

So when Helaena came back muttering sayings with wide eyes after your trip, Queen Alicent Hightower saw you to be a bit more peculiar than she originally had thought. 

“A savior, saint, prophet, messiah all names will bear no fruition.” Helaena muttered as she stitched. “History is set.” She continued as Alicent bounced Jaehaerys on her knee. Saints, prophets, saviors, and messiahs. Helaena had never spoken of religion before. For a brief moment it excited Alicent. Something to share with her daughter.

Her excitement would bear no fruition.

If someone asked Alicent Hightower what she thought about you, Alicent wouldn’t know what to say. You simply were, nothing really special, but now you feed the commons and frequent orphanages. She had first learned of this two weeks after you had delivered her the disappointing results that Rhaenrya’s plain featured children were indeed legitimate. (Alicent still had her doubts) Alicent does not know what you spend your time doing (Now she knows you spend your time doing charitable acts) In the first two months, there was never a word of what you did. You stay cooped up in your room working on what Alicent had told you to work on (Treason) and nothing else…or at least that's what you led Alicent to believe. You are a minx—that's what Alicent thinks of you. A minx who had corrupted her daughter and her son. (Maybe if you were around Aegon more, she’d be able to blame you for him too) Helaena seeks you out for ‘popped corn’ and ‘potatoes with salt.’ Her poor daughter had become slightly more plump since encountering you. 

Her grandchildren (A part of Alicent mourns that she is a grandmother in her thirties) have also grown plumper and refuse to eat certain foods. All thanks to you of course. Your time in the kitchen has grown exponentially. Now her own husband consumes what you cook, with…well only the gods know the answer. 

Lord Beesbury has reported that stops in King’s Landing have improved the local economy. You buy from small stores that seemingly arose from nothing and yet now produce a great amount of coin, as for where you got your coin, Alicent cannot say. 

Alicent for the life of her, does not know how you do it, but you now stand in the small council. The very council she once controlled alongside her father before you came along. The very council she fought so hard (waited for so long) to be in, and only three months here, you now stand far too close to Alicent’s position. As a pretty mouth whispering in the King’s ear who now seems more receptive to you more than ever.

“First, I would like to thank each and every one of you for your time today and your willingness to listen to my propositions…”

Alicent’s teeth nearly ground together. The sound of your voice grated at her nerves. How sweetly you spoke, how poised you stood, and—most of all—the audacity of wearing that dress. The emerald green silk had once brought Alicent strength when she needed it most, a gift to herself in the early, lonely days of her queenship. She had offered it to you out of courtesy, a gesture of mentorship to a young woman finding her footing. Now, it felt like you had stolen a piece of her, standing there in her council chamber, in her dress, with her King leaning forward to listen to you.

“…These creators often face a grave injustice: their labor and ingenuity are stolen when others imitate their work without permission or recognition.”

Alicent wanted to scoff aloud. How innocent you made yourself appear. But Alicent knew better. The subtle glances exchanged with Aemond, the whispered laughter between you and Helaena—it wasn’t mere goodwill that brought you here. No, you were something sharper. Something more dangerous.

“To address this issue, I humbly propose the establishment of a patent system…”

Viserys leaned forward, his expression alight with curiosity, and Lord Beesbury murmured his agreement. Alicent gripped the armrest of her chair tightly. Of course they’re enraptured. How could they not be?

“My vision for the patents is a simple promise,” you continued, your voice steady, each word measured. “To the inventor, the patents offer protection for a limited time—during which no one may copy, use, or sell their creation without consent. To society, they offer a legacy. After this period, the invention becomes public knowledge, free for everyone to use and improve upon.”

Your gaze swept across the council, meeting the eyes of each member in turn. Lord Beesbury was nodding slowly, the corners of his mouth curling upward. Ser Otto Hightower, however, remained impassive, his calculating eyes fixed on you as if trying to pierce through to your true intentions.

“Thus, a patent ensures that inventors are rewarded for their efforts,” you pressed on, “while ultimately sharing their knowledge to benefit all.”

Grand Maester Orwyle shifted slightly in his seat, his expression neutral but not hostile—a promising sign, given the usual disdain the Citadel held for unconventional ideas. Across the table, Ser Tyland Lannister smirked, his fingers tapping lightly against the polished wood. Whether his amusement stemmed from skepticism or intrigue, you couldn’t yet tell.

And then there was Rhaenyra. The princess leaned back in her chair, a spark of curiosity alight in her violet eyes. You met her gaze briefly, offering a slight, deliberate smile before continuing.

Alicent, however, did not return your glance. Instead, her knuckles whitened against the armrest, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Imagine, if you will, a blacksmith who crafts an entirely new type of plow,” you continued, allowing a moment for the council to visualize. “This plow turns the earth more efficiently, saving farmers hours of labor. Under the current system, another blacksmith could simply copy the design and sell it as their own, reaping the rewards without any of the effort. Why, then, would the first blacksmith ever bother to innovate again?”

A few council members nodded, most notably Lord Beesbury, who leaned forward eagerly.

“With a patent system, however,” you explained, “the original blacksmith would register their invention. This registration would be overseen by a neutral party, perhaps a specialized office within the Citadel or under the King’s authority. Upon approval, the blacksmith would be granted exclusive rights to manufacture and sell their plow for a specified number of years—ten, perhaps, or twenty.”

Viserys stroked his beard thoughtfully. “And what happens after these years are over?”

“At the end of the patent term,” you said, your voice firm and clear, “the invention becomes public knowledge, available for anyone to replicate and build upon. By then, the original inventor would have had ample opportunity to profit from their creation, and society as a whole would benefit from its widespread use.”

“And the process of registering this…patent?” Ser Otto interjected, his tone carefully neutral but his sharp gaze unrelenting. “Would it not be ripe for corruption? Any system can be exploited.”

“Indeed, my lord,” you acknowledged with a slight nod. “That is why the process must be transparent. Inventors would submit detailed descriptions or schematics of their creations, which would be reviewed by a panel of experts—selected for their impartiality and knowledge. If the invention is deemed truly novel and beneficial, the patent would be granted.”

Ser Tyland Lannister smirked, crossing his arms. “And these experts—would they not demand their share of coin for their favorable decisions? Even the most noble men have a price.”

“A valid concern,” you replied, meeting his gaze steadily. “This is why I propose strict penalties for corruption within the system. Any found guilty of such acts would face severe consequences—stripped of rank, fined heavily, or even imprisoned. Fear of reprisal is a potent deterrent.”

A murmur rippled through the council.

“And what of disputes?” Lord Jasper Wylde asked, his deep voice cutting through the room. “What if two inventors claim to have conceived the same idea?”

“A panel would also serve as arbiters in such cases,” you answered. “Evidence would be presented—designs, prototypes, or witnesses to the invention process—and the panel would rule in favor of the one who can most conclusively prove their claim.”

The King nodded slowly, his expression contemplative. “A structured system, indeed. But this sounds…complicated. Would it not overwhelm our courts and treasury?”

“It would be an investment, Your Grace,” you said earnestly. “The initial costs of establishing the system would be repaid tenfold through the innovations it encourages. Trade would flourish, industries would thrive, and Westeros would become the envy of the world for its ingenuity.”

Rhaenyra’s lips twitched as if suppressing a smile. Whether it was mocking or not, you couldn’t say. “Ambitious,” she said, leaning forward. “You think the people would accept such a change?”

“I do, Princess,” you said confidently. “Because it benefits them directly. Farmers with better tools, seamstresses with finer needles, sailors with more durable ships—all of this would improve lives. Once they see the results, they will embrace the system.”

Viserys leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You think not only of the present but of the future. I find your ideas…intriguing. I would like a detailed proposal drawn up for the council’s further consideration.”

You inclined your head deeply. “It would be my honor, Your Grace.”

Alicent’s nails dug into the armrest, her expression inscrutable. Too close. You are far too close.

“And you have a second proposal, yes?” Viserys offered. You nodded and stood straighter, puffing out your chest ever so slightly. You needed to radiate confidence. 

“Yes your grace,” you said with a gracious smile before continuing. “My proposal is cut from the same cloth—one that builds upon the foundation of innovation and rewards hard work but seeks to invigorate our economy more broadly.”

The council members exchanged curious glances.

“In Westeros, we have lands rich with resources, craftsmen skilled in their trades, and people eager for opportunities. Yet much of this potential lies dormant, untapped,” you began. “Imagine a system where individuals, no matter their birth, could invest in ventures—merchants funding ships, farmers pooling resources to build mills, or craftsmen working together to establish workshops. With structured investments and shared profits, we could ignite a flame of enterprise that benefits all.”

Lord Beesbury raised a brow. “Shared profits? Are you suggesting some form of communal ventures?”

“Not precisely,” you clarified. “Rather, I propose we encourage what I would call ‘partnership economies.’ Merchants or lords with coin to spare could invest in promising ventures run by skilled individuals who lack the resources to begin on their own. These investors would receive a portion of the profits, but the ventures themselves would remain under the control of the original creators or craftsmen.”

“And how would this differ from a lord simply collecting his taxes or rents?” Ser Tyland Lannister asked, his voice edged with skepticism.

“It differs, my lord, because it incentivizes collaboration,” you said. “Instead of taking from the people what is already theirs, this system allows lords and merchants to grow wealth alongside those they invest in. A baker with better ovens produces more bread; a blacksmith with finer tools forges better weapons. Everyone benefits—not just the few.”

Viserys nodded, his interest clearly piqued. “You mean to say that wealth could be multiplied, rather than merely redistributed?”

“Precisely, Your Grace,” you affirmed. “This approach would encourage cooperation between the classes, foster innovation, and create a thriving middle class—artisans, merchants, and skilled workers who could contribute even more to the kingdom's prosperity.”

“Would this not disrupt the established order?” Ser Otto interjected, his voice sharp. “If smallfolk begin amassing wealth and influence, what need would they have of their lords? Such a system could lead to rebellion, not progress.”

“I understand your concern, Lord Hand,” you replied evenly. “But this system does not undermine the authority of lords; it enhances it. By investing in their people, lords would see greater returns from their lands and more loyal subjects. A smith who prospers thanks to his lord’s patronage will be far more devoted than one who sees his talents squandered.”

Queen Alicent’s lips pursed, her knuckles whitening against the armrest.

“And what would regulate such investments?” Lord Jasper Wylde asked. “To prevent fraud or disputes?”

“Contracts, my lord,” you said. “Binding agreements overseen by the crown or local magistrates. These contracts would clearly define terms—how much is invested, how profits are shared, and for how long the agreement stands. Any disputes would be resolved through the courts, ensuring fairness and transparency.”

Ser Harrold Westerling, who had remained silent thus far, tilted his head. “And what of those who cannot repay their debts? Would this not lead to a rise in indentures or worse?”

“A valid concern, Ser Harrold,” you acknowledged. “This is why investments must be made with care. Only those ventures deemed viable by an impartial body—perhaps a council of merchants or scholars—would qualify. And as for those who fail, there would be no punitive measures that strip them of their dignity. Instead, they might work to repay their debts over time through service or labor.”

“You prepose slavery?” Otto spoke and your confidence cracked and Alicent was there to see it form. “Slavery is a thing of Essos, The Targaryens left their costumes in Essos, are you attempting to bring back such horrid acts?”

You took a deep breath. “No. Slavery is a thing of the past. A flawed system. It breeds resentment, resentment breeds revolts. I have seen first hand the after effects of slavery. I have lived through the after effects of slavery. It takes decades, a century even yet those who originated from slaves are never seen as truly human…there would obviously be a judicial system specifically allocated to deal with such issues.”

“To create these things, these systems…it would take years, decades even.” You knew Otto held back. To say that the realm will go through a big change soon. The death of the King and a possible war for the throne. But he was right, this would take decades to properly input. There are things one simply cannot account for. A trial and error system. 

But Rome was not built in a day. 

“Great empires were not built in a day.” You turned your attention to King Viserys. “Old Valyria was not built in a day.” 

You scanned the council members, gauging their reactions. The room was not as receptive as it had been moments ago.

Lord Beesbury shifted in his seat, his expression troubled. “This… ‘partnership economy,’ as you call it, sounds dangerously unorthodox. Encouraging smallfolk to amass wealth and enter ventures—would this not blur the lines of station? The order of society has always rested on clear boundaries.”

“Indeed,” Lord Jasper Wylde added, his tone stiff. “Such a proposal risks emboldening the commons, giving them ideas above their station. If a blacksmith or merchant prospers too greatly, what stops them from questioning why they bow to their lords at all?”

Ser Tyland Lannister scoffed lightly, crossing his arms. “It seems to me that such a system would only create chaos. Smallfolk lack the discipline and foresight for enterprise. They would squander their investments or worse—turn to deceit to enrich themselves.”

You held your ground, your voice steady. “My lords, I hear your concerns, but this proposal does not seek to abolish the natural order. On the contrary, it strengthens it. A prosperous people serve their lords better, pay their taxes more readily, and maintain peace in the realm. Would you not prefer subjects who thrive under your guidance rather than languish in resentment?”

Ser Otto Hightower, who had been listening intently, finally spoke, his words cutting and precise. “A fair argument, but you ask us to overturn centuries of tradition, all based on theories from lands far removed from our own. This is Westeros, not Essos, or wherever it is you come from. Such radical ideas could unsettle the foundations of our society. If smallfolk become too powerful, where does it end? Will they sit among us at this table one day, as you do now?”

The jab was not subtle, and the room bristled with tension. Even Viserys, who had shown enthusiasm moments ago, looked uncertain.

You chose your words carefully, keeping your tone respectful yet firm. “I understand the weight of tradition, Lord Hand, but traditions must evolve to ensure the survival of the realm. This proposal does not hand power to the commons—it channels their efforts into something productive, something that benefits us all. Lords would remain the cornerstone of this system, guiding and overseeing its growth.”

Queen Alicent’s lips tightened, but she did not speak. Her silence felt heavier than any words.

Lord Beesbury frowned deeply. “But how do we ensure control? If these partnerships are mismanaged, or if the commons grow restless, it could lead to unrest. You speak of contracts and fairness, but who enforces this? Who ensures that the lords are not taken advantage of?”

“Precisely!” Lord Wylde snapped. “Who is to say these agreements will not be exploited to undermine noble authority? Contracts are words on parchment, easily manipulated by clever tongues.”

Rhaenyra’s voice cut through the murmurs, calm but commanding. “Is that not the purpose of law? To prevent manipulation and ensure fairness? Or are you suggesting that Westeros lacks the capacity for justice?”

The room stilled, and you glanced at her, grateful for the unexpected support.

“The Princess is correct,” you said, seizing the moment. “This system would be governed by the crown, with contracts overseen by magistrates or councils appointed by the King. Any disputes would be resolved under royal authority, ensuring fairness for all parties. This would not weaken noble power; it would enhance it, showing that lord's care for their people’s welfare and prosperity.”

Ser Tyland narrowed his eyes. “And what of women? Would this system encourage them to step beyond their roles as well? If you aim to give them the same opportunities as men, you will only invite more chaos.”

You met his gaze evenly, refusing to waver. “Women have always contributed to the prosperity of their families and lands, my lord, though their efforts are often overlooked. This system would allow their talents to flourish alongside men’s, to the benefit of all. Prosperity knows no gender.”

Alicent’s voice finally broke the silence. “And yet it is a woman who stands before us, proposing a system that upends the very order of Westeros. Forgive me, but I cannot help but wonder if this is truly for the good of the realm, or for your own ambitions.”

Her words stung, but you inclined your head gracefully. “I seek no personal gain, Your Grace. Only the betterment of this realm I now call home.”

Viserys raised a hand, silencing further objections. His voice was measured, though doubt lingered in his tone. “The proposal is bold, perhaps too bold for many to accept, but it is not without merit. I will consider it further, though I urge caution. Change, if it must come, should come slowly.”

You bowed your head. “Thank you, Your Grace. I am grateful for your consideration.”

As you stepped back, the tension in the room was palpable. The lords remained skeptical, their unease plain, but you could see the seeds of curiosity planted in a few of their minds. The road ahead would not be easy, but you had taken the first step. And that, you knew, was how all great changes began.

…

6th day of the 7th moon of 129 AC

Dear Jacaerys Velyarion

I must thank you for your kindness, truly. You need not worry yourself too much, for now at least. I am glad I have the King’s favor or my head would most likely be on spike. You see, other than serving the King, I have no purpose and because I am quite literally ahead of my time, I do not conform with such expectations of women today. Queen Alicent and Lord Otto don’t particularly seem to like that about me, and Prince Daemon doesn’t like me at all, I am unsure where your mother stands on an opinion of me. The only one I have who does favor me is the King and is the sole reason why my head is still atop my shoulders. You must forgive me and I know you are not a personal book of mine to write, but I find it easy to speak to you. It is easy to explain myself to you and my feelings about being here. I am scared. I don’t want to die again. It is a horrible feeling. There's nothing like fighting for something as simple as human breath. I don’t want to know how it feels to have my head cut off or burned alive or something like that. 

That was grim. Sorry. In anycase, the King will not live forever and your mother will be Queen. I need to make myself valuable enough for her to decide she does want me around or at the very least not dead. I am very glad for your letters. I have been the library recently searching about the Hightower, Casterly Rock, The Wall, Dragonstone, Old ruins like Summerhall, High Heart (reminds me of Stonehenge), the Isle of Faces (This one is more so because of plain old curiosity and learning about these ‘Old Gods.’) But I think the one that captures my attention the most is Winterfell. Bran the Builder was some Builder. The concept of being built atop a spring is genius. I read that hot water travels through the walls. I want to know how that was done. I want to go to Winterfell. I will go to Winterfell once I get this patent thing off the ground and then I can go ahead with the water system. 

(P.S. Thank you so much for the little tip that your Grandsire is obsessed with Old Valyria. Really helped me sell my idea. Also yes, I find it very exciting to wait for your letters. I check consistently, only because no one knows I’m sending letters to you, but if it wasn’t for that, I too would be very excited for your letter—I still am excited for them)

…

“Thank you, Disney,” you muttered, finishing yet another story—this time, Cinderella. It was always a good choice for the orphanages. The kids adored it, and when you ventured out into the city, some people even began to recognize you. Things were going smoothly. Gaining the love of the smallfolk turned out to be surprisingly easy. All it took was treating them like actual people. With your growing reputation, you were starting to build an impressive résumé—one that might even help you gain a foothold in the Faith.

But the Faith alone wasn’t enough. The Citadel had become a necessary stop in your plan. You’d thought it through: there was no way you could overhaul the water system by yourself. You lacked the technical knowledge and the support. You needed scholars—real scholars (hopefully not just philosophers). And you needed them now.

There was no ignoring the challenges ahead. The water system required precise engineering: the slope had to cut through a hill—a massive one. How to achieve a perfect straight line? You had no idea. As for the sewer system? That would practically require dismantling half of King’s Landing. The city’s urban planning—or lack thereof—was abysmal. Chaotic streets, haphazard layouts... Aegon the Conqueror clearly hadn’t been thinking about infrastructure.

You let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back in your chair. “Dyana!” you called, and moments later, she appeared.

“Here,” you handed her your finished story. “Take this to my workplace and have someone bring me fruit or food. I’m starving.”

As Dyana left, you turned back to your desk. The parchment before you read: Patent Act of 129 AC. It wasn’t just a set of rules; it was a strategy. This act would require a new position on the Small Council—a role you hoped to fill with someone you trusted, someone who would favor you. Preferably an older person who might conveniently vacate the seat by the time you were of age and had the accomplishments to take it yourself. Longevity—that was the goal. Not just surviving but truly living. Living a fulfilling life, as you would have in your own world.

The only downside? You had to live in King’s Landing. Hot, humid, sticky King’s Landing. You sighed again. Dry heat would’ve been better, or even better still—the North. Somewhere cool, where the air was crisp, and the summers didn’t feel like an oven.

Before you could indulge in your northern fantasies, a knock sounded at the door. A maid entered, carrying a tray with what looked like a meat pie, wine, and a small bowl of grapes. You offered a polite smile as she approached but quickly stopped her as she moved toward your papers.

“Not on top of the documents,” you said sharply, gesturing to the side. She corrected the course and placed the tray on an empty part of the table.

“That’ll be all. Thank you,” you added curtly.

Once the maid had left, you stared at the meat pie with open disgust. You’d managed to avoid eating meat for the past four months, but it was starting to take a toll. The weight loss was noticeable—too noticeable. Energy levels were plummeting, and without proper nutrition, you knew you’d face bigger problems down the line. If you wanted to strengthen your immune system and maintain your health, you couldn’t rely on simple carbs alone. You’d have to face facts: meat might be a necessary evil in this world, and your survival hinged on staying strong.

Grabbing a fork, you poked at the meat pie. The wafting scent of roasted meat invaded your senses, making your stomach churn. You closed your eyes, exhaled sharply, and dropped the fork with a dramatic sigh. For good measure, you mimed choking yourself. God, why? You weren’t even vegetarian, but the lack of cleanliness in this world was unsettling. The mere thought of consuming it made you reconsider your timeline for selling the idea of refrigeration—a plan you’d initially intended to push after passing the Patent Act for maximum profit.

It sucked, truly. You’d hoped to tie it all together: disproving spontaneous generation, advancing sanitation, and introducing better food storage. But if you wanted to maintain a healthy diet in the meantime, you might have to accelerate your plans.

Flexing your hands in irritation, you reluctantly picked up the fork again and sliced off a small piece. “Okay, okay, okay,” you murmured, trying to psych yourself up. On the bright side, if this went terribly and left you with another crippling migraine, at least you’d have an excuse to retreat to Dragonstone for a while.

Lifting the bite to your mouth, a voice cut through the room, stopping you.

“I would not recommend eating that.”

“Oh, thank god,” you muttered, dropping the fork as your eyes darted to the doorway. There, standing in the shadows, was Aemond. He had apparently figured out how to reach your chambers through Maegor’s secret passageways.

“My grandsire and mother were... displeased with your proposal,” he said, his tone measured, though his eye gleamed with curiosity. “And your growing favor with my father—the King—does not sit well with them. I would refrain from eating anything you did not prepare or see prepared yourself.”

His words hung in the air, cold and heavy.

You sighed, pushing the plate away and opting for the grapes instead. “You can’t do that,” you said, popping one into your mouth.

“Do what?” Aemond asked, settling into a nearby chair with the ease of someone who clearly didn’t care to be chastised.

“Just come in whenever you want. What if I was changing?” you shot back, gesturing vaguely toward yourself.

Aemond raised a brow, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

“Right...” you drawled, rolling your eyes. “And what if I was plotting or something?”

“I have the right to be informed,” he replied evenly, his tone suggesting he genuinely believed this.

You shook your head, leaning back in your chair. “I like my privacy. And my private plans, thank you very much.”

Aemond studied you, his sharp eye taking in every detail of your face and posture, as if trying to decode a cipher. “You’ve been amassing influence,” he said finally. “Among the smallfolk. Writing laws. Offering ideas that challenge long-held beliefs. You’re not as subtle as you think.”

“Subtlety is overrated,” you countered, flicking a grape into the air and catching it in your mouth. “I don’t care if people notice. In fact, I’d prefer it—they should see what I’m trying to do. But that doesn’t mean I want you barging in uninvited like you own the place.”

“First, I do own the place. The Red Keep is my home.” Aemond leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “Secondly, you’re ambitious. Too ambitious for someone with no name and no family ties.”

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze with a challenging look. “What do you suggest I do? Sit here looking pretty until some lord with decent standing finds me attractive enough to overlook my lack of name and origins? Marry him, then wait for years before I can even think about making my moves? Too much time wasted. Unless it’s some Northern lord or someone willing to give me Dragonstone, it’s not happening.”

Aemond’s lips twitched with faint amusement as he leaned back, his sharp gaze never leaving you. “When did you start fantasizing about Northern brutes?”

“First, that’s rude,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “Second, I prefer the cold. Ergo, a Northern lord. Though a friend of mine told me there’s more to the North than just freezing winters. Winterfell has caught my attention. I want to go there.”

“For?”

You shrugged, popping another grape into your mouth. “It doesn’t hurt to look at men I might potentially want to marry. As for Winterfell itself… Bran the Builder was an interesting man, intelligent beyond his time. I want to study the blueprints of their stronghold, maybe glean something from their methods. The wall alone is a feat that deserves more attention than it gets.”

Aemond studied you with that familiar intensity, the kind that made you feel like he was peeling back your layers, searching for secrets you hadn’t even admitted to yourself. “You’re bold. But you’d need more than boldness to survive the North. They respect tradition above all else, and you, well…” He let his words trail off, a faint smirk playing at his lips.

“And I?” you prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“You would disrupt their traditions just as easily as you disrupt the quiet here,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the room.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing,” you replied smoothly. “Times change. You can either let go of the past or be dragged. However, me personally…” You smile at him leaning back in your chair tossing him a grape which he caught. “I’d rather be the one steering the change than a passenger caught in the chaos.”

For a moment, Aemond said nothing, popping the grape in his mouth, his gaze piercing and calculating. Then, he gave a slow nod, as though acknowledging some unspoken truth. “You’re a risk-taker. That much is clear. But risks in this world come with consequences—more often fatal than not.”

“And yet,” you said with a faint smile, “here I am, very much alive.”

“For now,” Aemond countered, standing. He adjusted his tunic, his sharp features set in a contemplative expression. “If you do decide to go to Winterfell, let me know. I’d be curious to see how they handle someone like you.”

You smirked. “What, worried they’ll like me more than you?”

Aemond’s eye glittered with something between amusement and warning. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I’m simply curious to see if you’re as unshakable as you pretend to be. The North has a way of testing people, you know.”

“Good,” you replied, leaning back in your chair. “I like a challenge.”

Aemond didn’t respond, but the faint smirk on his lips lingered as he turned and left the room. You watched him go, your mind already spinning with plans and possibilities. If Winterfell truly held the knowledge and opportunities you sought, then perhaps the cold North was exactly where you needed to be.

…

14th day of the 7th moon of 129 AC

I was not aware of the dangers you faced in the Red Keep. Had I known I would’ve stressed to my mother to let me stay in King’s Landing. However, now that I am here, more now than ever I can offer you a place of solitude. Here I can assure you that your head will not be on a spike and you could simply live life as you deserve. We could watch movies or I can show you more of this world, as strange as it is to say. I’m sure my younger brothers would enjoy watching the movies you once showed me if it would please you. I do not mind if you express your thoughts to me, no matter how grim, I would much rather share your burdens than rather have you face them alone. You are in a strange land vastly different from what you are accustomed to, I would not blame you if you had such thoughts and do not oblige by traditions. Even so I do not doubt that my mother will resonate with you should you have the chance to speak to her. 

To continue with your interest in the world of old, had I known you would’ve taken interest in Winterfell rather than Dragonstone, I would not have mentioned it. Of course that is only a jest. I am more than willing to help you in anything you should require. I am glad that my Grandsire has taken your side rather than the Queen. If you would not mind, I would much like to know what Stonehenge is. I have never heard of it. As for the Isle of Faces, it is a sacred island in the middle of the lake called the God's Eye, located in the southeastern riverlands. It is one of the few known locations of weirwoods in the south of Westeros, with most others having been cut down and burned. I do not know much of the religion, Prince Daemon favors the gods of Old Valyria and I know more about them than the Seven or the Old Gods. However, in my youth when I lived in the Red Keep there was a Weirwood tree in the Godswood. I remember the leaves being five-pointed and the sap of weirwoods are blood-red, while the smooth bark on their wide trunks and wood are bone white. They say most weirwoods have faces carved into their trunks and that it was done by the children of the forest in ancient days, and is now done by the free folk as well as other descendants of the First Men, such as followers of the old gods in the Seven Kingdoms praying to heart trees in godswoods. The one in the Red Keep has sap that has  collected in the crevices of the carved faces, giving the trees red eyes which have been known to drip sap as if the trees were weeping. A weirwood will live forever if undisturbed—or so it is said.

(P.S. Northerns are very set in their ways. If you go, I would like to accompany you. I have never left the South and I long to explore Westeros. If I am to be King, a King must know his people.)

Note: How do we feel? Anyway after for like ever we have our first mention of Winterfell. Speical thanks to my Beta reader ❤️

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[cupidbedsy]

▷ we'll be okay ; the film effect

➪ summary: two weeks after their fight, gabe and will still aren't talking which leaves everyone around them worried and annoyed. with molly's help, gabe finds a way to apologize to will and he knows they'll be okay, or at least he hopes

➪ warnings: gabe and will's fight, gabe being insecure and self-conscious of his feelings, will being mad still... i think that's it

➪ word count: 6.0k

➪ file type: au (the film effect) fic

➪ cupid's notes: yay they made up ! anyway, this is probably one of my favorite things i've written and i really hope you guys like it <3

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Gabe had all but thrown himself into hockey these past few weeks. If he wasn’t in class, he was at the rink, if he wasn’t doing homework, he was at the rink, if he wasn’t eating, he was at the rink. It had seemed like the only thing in his life that he could control right now and he was going to take advantage of that. 

This had been the longest time he had ever gone without talking to Will, two weeks. It had been two weeks since he had blown up at Mack with his boyfriend and girlfriend watching, two weeks since he’s fucked up the most important thing in his life, and two weeks since he’s felt like he’s lost two of the most important people in his life. Two weeks of nonstop hockey and nights that consisted of 3-4 hours of sleep if he was lucky. 

Will himself couldn’t think straight even when he was at the rink. The words he said were engraved in his mind, closely followed by words he had heard. It was all beginning to overwhelm him. Which made ignoring people seem like the safest choice, he wouldn’t fuck up any more than he already had and nobody could get mad at him for doing something, so that’s what he did. 

He felt guilty each time he swiped away a text from Molly, each time he declined an invitation to hang out with Mack, each time he had said no to a team dinner or celebrating a win. Still, that guilt slowly just became another numb feeling he had, one that he shoved into the back of his mind. 

Molly, on the other hand, has had two weeks of nonstop worrying and annoyance. If it wasn’t Will she was worried about it was Gabe, if it wasn’t Gabe it was her grades, if it wasn’t her grades… well it was legit anything else that the universe had decided to throw at her just to fuck with her. And she, quite frankly was over it. 

She had spent a great deal of time sending text messages to her boyfriends, most of which went either unseen or unreturned. And if she was lucky enough that they had replied, it was a short and to-the-point text that consisted of ‘I’m fine. Have practice in an hour, talk later’ to which, they never really did talk later. 

She was starting to lose her mind at this point, if the two of them couldn’t figure this out on their own and wouldn’t accept help to figure this out, she wasn’t sure what that meant for the three of them. She wasn’t sure if this would be the end of them. Maybe she was being dramatic, but she had a right to be when Gabe and Will stuck her in the middle of their drama. She wasn’t about to pick sides, but it sure was a hell of a lot easier to get Gabe into shape when he was just down the street. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The rink was colder than she had remembered, she hadn’t stepped foot in one since the fight, too many memories that she didn’t want to recall. She wrapped her jacket tighter around her, navigating through Conte Forum like it was her second home. 

The sound of skates on ice and sticks against pucks welcomed her as she got closer to where Gabe was in the middle of the ice, shooting pucks relentlessly at the net. When she found out he had been here, she hadn’t really been shocked, it was the same answer she had been getting any time she texted one of his teammates or stopped by his place. 

After the tenth shot at the net, she called out his name, halting his movements. She could see the way his body went rigid when he heard her voice, watching as he shook his head before going back to shooting as if he had only imagined it. 

“Gabe, please. Talk to me.”

He ignored her, continuing his movements. Despite knowing she could get in trouble by walking with her street shoes over the ice, she did it anyway, making her way towards him with slow movements, trying not to fall. It took her a minute to reach him, stopping him just as he lined up to take another shot, hand resting on his shoulder, “Baby.”

Her touch, or the nickname, caused him to stop completely, resting his stick by his side and head dropping down to look at his feet. The way he turned around to face her was like he was physically restraining himself from doing so, but her gentle touch and soft coaxing voice made him cave quickly. 

He still avoided her gaze as he came to a stop after turning around, looking quite literally anywhere but her face. He let her take his hand in hers, let her press a kiss to his cheek, let her eyes wander over his body searching for any signs of injury or exhaustion (which he knew she found plenty of), but when her fingers gripped his jaw, he did not let her turn his head. 

“Don’t,” He tried to make his voice sound stern and forceful, but it came out weak and cracked like he was gasping for another breath of air. 

“Look at me, Gabe.” 

He had to admit, she had done a much better job of making her voice sound stronger than he had. His eyes finally trailed over to her, crumbling as soon as their gazes met. She watched as tears brimmed in his eyes, reaching up to rub her thumb across the dark circle underneath one of them. He hadn’t allowed himself to cry since that night, and her bringing him into a hug made him break down fully, stick clattering to ice as he practically went limp in her arms. 

They stayed like that for a while, Molly’s hand in his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist as best as he could. The hoodie he was wearing felt so baggy on him that he was sure he had lost some weight over the past weeks, but that was just another thing he would worry about later. 

When he finally calmed down enough to pull away and wipe his tears, he could feel the cold seeping into his bones, shivering slightly as he removed himself from her warmth. She gave him a small smile, bending down to grab his stick, “Let’s go back to mine, yeah?”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

A nice hot shower and a change of clothes later only made Gabe feel marginally better, but it was progress. That was what he told himself as sat on her bed, feet dangling off while watching her ruffle through draws until she found two Wii remotes and turned to him with a grin, “For old times sake?”

“Yeah.” He reached for one of them, moving over so she could sit next to him as he watched the Mario Kart screen load, clicking buttons until the character selection screen popped up. His cursor hovered between Mario and Luigi before he finally clicked on Luigi. 

The hesitation caused a slight crack in Molly’s heart, maybe she was expecting him to pick Mario, he always argued with Will over whether or not who was who until he gave in at one glance at Will’s puppy dog eyes and let him pick Mario. 

She clicked Donkey Kong, her favorite character for some unknown reason but she played as him every time and she had no intentions of stopping now. She let him pick the first course, and she wasn’t surprised when the familiar opening to DK Summit popped up. No matter how many times they played, they would always do the same order; DK Summit, Luigi Circuit, Mario Circuit, and then Rainbow Road, which they can all confidently say that they haven’t gotten first place yet, but it’ll happen… one day.

They played for the next hour, doing the same four courses over and over again, as they sat in silence beside the music and sounds of the game. When Molly crossed the finish line of Rainbow Road for the fifth time, she set the remote aside, looking over at him, “Ready to talk?”

Everything in Gabe’s mind screamed no, but for the first time in a while, he felt like he could breathe without sending himself into a panic attack. While one small step at a time was good for some people, he just wanted to get it all out of the way as quickly as possible. Why stop when he had so much motivation?

He gave her a small nod because even though he was ready to talk, he wasn’t sure how to start. She took his controller from him, setting them both on her desk before climbing back up on the bed. She smiled when his hand reached for hers, letting out a sigh of relief that went unnoticed by him. 

“What did you say?”

He closed his eyes for a minute, a little piece of him still trying to figure out if there was a way out of this but he quickly realized that there was no turning back. So taking a deep breath, he started talking, “Told him that I was annoyed with Mack being around all the time and that I thought he was trying to steal-”

He cut himself off, just the thought of Will’s name made his stomach churn. She nodded, “And what did he say?”

“Told me I was a child, was acting like a spoiled kid who wasn’t getting his way, and that I wasn’t trying to be friends with Mack, but he’s right I wasn’t.”

“You weren’t, yeah. But that doesn’t mean he also had to discredit your feelings.”

“But-”

“Gabe, let me tell you something. You have every right to feel how you feel, how you feel is appropriate to feel, I am a strong believer in that. But that also means that Will does too, and maybe it’s time that both of you start seeing it from each other’s point of view. This is not just a one-sided thing, both of you were wrong and both of you were right. Both of you said harsh and mean things, and both of you didn’t say a lot of things you wanted to say. 

“There is more to this than just you being jealous and Will being frustrated. There are many layers and it is going to take time to go through every single emotion you and him are feeling, but I know you love him and I know he loves you, and I know both of you would take the time to talk it out.”

Her words raced through his head, trying to cling to every single piece of information she was saying. It made sense, he knew that. He knew that there were things he could’ve said, maybe should’ve said but didn’t. He knew that Will’s words were right but also harsh.

“He won’t even talk to me.”

“And how do you know that? Have you tried texting him?”

“No.” He mumbled, pink coating his cheeks as he lied. He had reached out to him but didn’t want to voice that Will hadn’t responded out loud. It would make the rejection all too real. 

“That’s what I thought. I am not saying that you have to put more effort in than he does or vice versa, but maybe that’s what he needs to know you’re serious about this.”

Gabe bit his lip, that sounded like a good idea, but what could he do to make it up to him? He wasn’t about to send him a shit ton of flowers or gifts or fly to California with a script of words he wants to say, for two reasons. 1. He wasn’t the type of person to do that and 2. Will deserved more.

“Maybe you could… I don’t know, talk to Mack? Apologize, tell him you want to be friends, and move past this.”

He did feel bad for what he said, that was never okay and he knew it as soon as the words left his mouth but anger clouded any form of judgment he might’ve had in the moment. The past two weeks had given him time to reflect and he knew every negative feeling towards Mack had felt wrong and unjustified.

Will had never given Gabe a reason not to trust him, so the moment he said Mack wasn’t trying to get with him he should’ve believed him. And he should’ve seen the blatant attempt of approval Mack was seeking every time he would talk, or try to talk to him. He knew he was a jerk, a dick, every single synonym on this planet for ‘dumbass’ and ‘asshole’ was what he would use to classify himself right now. 

He would apologize to Mack, he would make it up to Will and Molly, and he would make it up to himself. Well, the first two were objectively more important, he could get around to making it up to himself. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The next day Gabe sat with Molly in the student center, Gabe anxiously fiddling with his phone as he deleted and added words to his ongoing apology to Mack and Molly sat with her knees tucked into her chest, planning out a new film idea for class. 

She looked up at him, eyes growing fond as she saw him, “It doesn’t have to be perfect, baby. Why don’t you just start by texting him hi, I don’t think Mack really wants to get out of practice to see over 200 words of you rambling.”

“Oh ha ha, you’re so funny. You should be a comedian if being behind the camera doesn’t work out for you.”

“Actually, I think I’ll make it my part-time job, but I have two years to figure that out. Plus why would I need to be a comedian when I’d have two rich NHL boyfriends?”

He stared at her, looking back down at his phone, “Yeah if I haven’t scared one of them off already.”

Her smile had turned downwards, a frown across her face now as she reached out to hold his hand, “He still loves you.”

“I know I just-” He fiddled with his phone case, pulling the corner off before putting it back on. He wasn’t sure how to express the doubt in his mind, if that was even what he could call it. Maybe if he denied the feeling long enough it would just go away and he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. 

“That’s another thing you have to stop doing.” It was like Molly could read him from the inside out and he didn’t know if he was supposed to be grateful or terrified about it. 

He glanced up at her, “Doing what?”

“Shoving everything to the back of your mind. I know you don’t always want to share what’s going in that head of yours, but that’s what we’re here for.”

We’re. She said it so casually that it dug into him the slightest bit, he didn’t deserve Will’s obsessive worrying and him caring about him, not after everything he said to him. 

He looked back at his phone, swiping into his text messages to send Mack a ‘hi’ like she had told him to. She was right, she always was, but he wouldn’t tell her that in fear of her ego inflating more than it already was. 

When he clicked send, he placed his phone down on the table, watching her as she continued going between writing things down and editing footage on her laptop. He had missed being in her presence, he shouldn’t have shut her out, she did nothing wrong to deserve it and he and Will had placed her in the middle of them, again.

“I’m sorry.”

She looked up, pushing her glasses onto her head as she fully abandoned her work now, “I already told you you didn’t need to apologize-”

“Not for the fight, I mean yes but- fuck. I’m sorry we put you in the middle of us, you shouldn’t have to deal with us both being grade-A assholes and shouldn’t have to choose between us. We’re your boyfriends, not your friends who are fighting over you. And for shutting you out these past couple weeks, I should’ve come to you and talked to you but I just- I felt like I wasn’t allowed to, or at least that’s what my brain was telling me.” 

He trailed off, unsure of how to continue his apology. When he looked back at her, he saw the soft expression on her face and knew that he said enough, or at least enough for her to grasp what he was trying to say, and at that moment, he knew at least the two of them would be okay.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

It wasn’t until Gabe and Molly were at lunch that Mack responded to him. His phone lit up with the notification and Molly was the first to notice it, nodding her head towards the device. He opened the phone to see the text, it was just as short as he had been, a simple ‘Hey’. He was surprised when another text came through quickly after, ‘Everything okay?’

He should’ve expected it, he had never texted Mack on his own accord. Scratch that, he had never texted Mack, period. If he needed something from Will and he wasn’t responding he would make Molly text Mack and ask if he was asleep. 

Molly watched as her boyfriend’s face went through the five stages of grief before she talked, “What did he say?”

“Asked if everything was okay,” Gabe murmured, setting his fork down and taking his phone into both hands, staring down at his lap.

“Just send your mini essay. It’s going to be fine, Gabe. I promise. Mack understands already, trust me, he would want nothing more than to put this all behind him and actually be friends with you.”

He nodded, but that was it. She went back to eating as he copied and pasted his rant from his notes into the message bar. After rereading it 10 times, he thought it was decent enough to send, it wouldn’t make up for the countless times he had ignored him and what he had said the other day, but it bridged the gap in their soon-to-be friendship. 

He put his phone back down, shoving it under his leg, knowing Mack would spend at least two minutes reading everything he had spilled to him made him anxious. He took a bite of his food, trying to continue his conversation with Molly in the meantime. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

If Gabe had a dollar for every right thing Molly had said today he wouldn’t need to sign an NHL contract to be a millionaire. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration but it was true, she had said so many right things today that he didn’t know why he didn’t listen to her in the first place. 

He had spent that last hour texting Mack about random things and becoming friends after Mack had written an extensive text about how he wasn’t totally upset but was grateful for his apology. Maybe they were more alike than he thought they were. 

However, the distraction Mack was providing slowly faded away when he got his newest text from him, ‘Have you talked to Will yet?’

Thankfully, Molly had been next to him when he got the text and gave him a comforting smile, “Would it be easier to talk about it out loud?”

He nodded, yeah she knew him too well. So Molly called Mack from her phone, propping it against her pillows as the two sat on her bed, waiting for him to answer. His face lit up the screen seconds later, and from the space behind him, he was in his apartment. 

“Will’s not here,” his voice was soft as he got himself comfy on his bed. “He went out with some of the guys earlier.”

Molly’s hand wrapped around Gabe’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze that urged him to talk, “I sent him a few texts, sometime last week but he never responded and I haven’t tried since.”

“You did? I thought you said you didn’t.”

“I did, but- it’s not important right now, Molls.”

She gave him a hesitant nod before turning her attention to Mack, “I send him a couple a day, only replies with short answers, can’t get much out of him.” 

“Yeah he doesn’t talk much but he acts like everything’s okay. I know the team knows something's wrong, Logan’s tried to get him to go out with them and this is the first time he accepted it.” 

“I don’t know what to do.” Gabe’s voice was small, like a child who was admitting that they broke their parents' beloved vase. “If he won’t talk to me, and he’s barely talking to you and Molls…:

“I think you guys should come out here, this weekend. I know you got a game Friday so I guess after that or Saturday? You could come to the game and then you can talk it out, plus it’s our last game before Four Nations so then he could always go back with you guys.”

The two thought about it, it did sound like a good plan. But would it work out, the two had no clue. No risk, no reward. The thought echoed through Gabe’s mind. He knows he said he wasn’t the type of person to just fly out spontaneously, but that was before he apologized to Mack.

“We’ll be there.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When they stepped into SAP Center, their nerves heightened. Even though Will was however many feet away from them they felt as if he just knew they were there, and that made unease flow through them naturally. 

Gabe had spent the past few days preparing for what he was going to say tonight, and even now he still didn’t know what he was going to. But once again, that was a thought for later, all he wanted to do right now was enjoy watching the game and enjoy having Molly by his side as she had for the past week since she set him straight. 

Despite what he told himself, he did think about what he was going to say almost the whole game, during play, during intermission, during timeouts, it was a constant battle of trying to watch the game as he typed away on his phone. 

“You know, if you keep stressing about it, it’s only going to make it worse. It might not be as bad as you think it’s going to be.” Molly’s voice cut through all the screaming and cheering after Toffoli scored a goal. 

He only answered when the crowd settled again, “I know. Kind of hard to convince my mind of that though.”

“Trust me, I know it is. But sometimes you have to override that thought, Gabe. It’s not going to get easier if you don’t stick up for yourself against yourself.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be a writer or some shit?”

“Yeah, almost failed English in high school. Which is why I just come up with the ideas and let my friends write them. Not my strong suit, I just work the camera.”

He gave her a half-smirk, “So you’re the behind-the-scenes guy?”

“Mhm. Always plotting.”

“M’sure you are.”

More cheers rang out and the two turned their attention to where a group of blue jerseys swarmed together on the ice, the clock had ticked down faster than they thought it would, faster than they wished it would.

They sat, watching as most of the fans made their way out of the arena and back to their cars. By the time they found the will to move, only half the arena’s seats were still filled and they were both sure it was just to watch the interview that was happening on the ice. 

Will had gotten first star of the game after two goals and two assists, beaming as brightly as he could. The two could tell from where they sat that there was dimness in his eyes, tightness in his voice as he spoke to the interviewer, and stood with a tense figure as he tried to make it through. 

It was nice to hear his voice, it was the first time they heard it in person since that day, strictly relying on old voice memos and videos if they wanted to hear it. They hadn’t realized how much they loved getting those from him until they stopped. 

They got up out of their seats once he left the ice, making their way down to the tunnel to wait for him. Mack was the first to come out and both of them couldn’t help the disappointment that covered their face when they didn’t see the usual blond mop of curls trailing behind him. 

He gave them a small smile once he saw them, bringing Molly into a hug and giving Gabe whatever weird handshake thing boys usually did. Molly let herself smile at the interaction, it was just a step closer to working everything out, and she was proud of him for it. 

“It’ll probably be a few before he comes out, he’s just been sitting in there after games until he absolutely has to leave and then he’ll start getting ready to go.”

Gabe let out a low hum in acknowledgment, eyes fluttering back to where he knew his boyfriend could walk out at any minute. Then they fell into an easy conversation, mostly about what they had been doing the past few weeks and other random things that had come up. 

“Mack didn’t know what a date was.”

“Like going on a date or…?”

“You two I swear to god. The fruit!”

“Oh. There’s a fruit?”

Will wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not as he turned the corner, stopping when he caught sight of the three who were laughing about something he couldn’t figure out. Blinking steadily, he pinched himself on the wrist and when the small burst of pain shot through him, he knew for a fact that his girlfriend, his best friend, and his boyfriend were all talking and having a good time like nothing had happened. 

He was sure he was angry, but again he didn’t know what he had been feeling these two weeks, everything he felt would just turn numb in the hours after he acknowledged it. He gained the courage to walk the few steps towards them, closing the gap. 

Molly saw him first, biting her lip and falling silent as she looked at him; dark circles, eyebags, exhaustion, everything was the same as when she saw Gabe earlier in the week. Gabe and Mack didn’t take long to recognize her silence, following her gaze to where Will stood, clad in his suit and hair wet from the quick shower he took. 

“They flew out this morning,” Mack’s voice was soft, like every other time he had tried to speak to Will since everything had happened. 

He gave a brief nod, letting his eyes go from Molly to Gabe and then back to Molly and back to Gabe, before settling on his friend again, “I’m ready to go.”

Both Molly and Gabe’s hearts cracked at his cold tone, feeling as if he didn’t care that they were there. Mack placed a handout, stopping Will from walking any further away from them, “Hear him out please.”

“And you know what he has to say?” He kept his volume low, trying not to let the emotion that flooded his voice show. 

“He texted me earlier this week, Tuesday,” Mack started, he hadn’t told him about his conversation with Gabe and Molly, or at least until now. “Apologized, for everything. And then we just talked. He really is sorry Will. I don’t think he would’ve reached out to me if he wasn’t.”

Will took in the information, trying to process it but it just floated around in his head like a fly he couldn’t catch. When he looked back over to the two, his tone had softened but he still kept his guard up, “You coming?”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The car ride to Mack and Will’s apartment was all quiet, no one spoke as turns were made and lights were passed. They pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, sitting in heavy silence for a few minutes before getting out of the car. 

Molly and Gabe took the stairs while the other two rode the elevator up. They got two flights of stairs in when Molly murmured, “It’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.”

“Mhm, I know. Or at least I hope I do.”

They reached their floor a couple of minutes later, walking out of the stairwell to see Mack and Will deep in conversation with each other. It didn’t take long for them to notice the two, letting them follow them to their apartment. 

Mack stuck his key in, turning and unlocking the door before pushing it open and letting the three step inside. The four kicked their shoes off and then just stood there awkwardly. Frustration grew in Mack’s head before he eventually was over Gabe being too scared to admit his wrongs and Will being too stubborn to let him speak, “Okay. I’m done with this.”

Eyes fell on him but he ignored their stares and wrapped a hand around both of their arms before leading them towards Will’s room and shoving them in there, “Do not come out until this shit is fixed. You two aren’t the only ones suffering because of this.”

Will and Gabe turned to Molly who stood there nervously, fiddling with her hands and rocking back and forth on her heels. They softened simultaneously, Mack was right, they had put her through enough and it was time they fixed that and made it up to her, but they couldn’t do it without talking it out with each other first. 

The door closed and left the two alone in the confines of Will’s bedroom, hoodies and shirts were lying on the ground, takeout containers shoved in the overflowing trashcan, and a heavy, musty smell took over their senses. 

“Sorry about the mess.” Will started picking up shirts and throwing them in his laundry basket, his need to stress clean overwhelming him. 

Gabe’s hand grabbed ahold of his wrist, stopping him from moving, “Don’t do that, not now. Please.”

He didn’t face him, not yet, staring at his crumbled sheets from when he didn’t even attempt to make his bed this morning. He felt Gabe’s hand move down to his hand, lacing their fingers together. That was when he turned, looking over his face and seeing the tiredness that was written over it, he was sure it matched the tiredness on his own. 

He gave him a nod, allowing him to go on, “I’m sorry- I know I’m sorry doesn’t fix anything, let me speak, please.”

Gabe knew that when Will opened his mouth he was going to let out something along the lines of ‘sorry isn’t going to cut it’, he always did. He guided him to sit on the bed before he sat next to them, keeping their fingers intertwined. 

“I know what I said was wrong and hurtful, I never should’ve said what I said to Mack and I never should’ve said what I said to you, even though I did mean it, a little bit.” Gabe’s thumb started absentmindedly running over Will’s knuckles, a habit he had gained whenever he had started to become restless or anxious, “And while I am sorry about how I chose to… display my feelings, I’m not going to apologize for how I felt. 

“For a while, it was easy to pass the feelings off as jealousy and whatnot but the more and more the two of you hung out and the more and more the two of you were in videos together, I think it made me realize how much I missed just having you as a teammate and how different it was not to have you around. 

“You’ve never done anything to make me feel like you would cheat on me or whatever and I should’ve recognized that a lot earlier. I also should’ve acknowledged you’re point of view on this. I know Mack has been there for you since the beginning of the season and I know how much he means to you and I shouldn’t have let my feelings and insecurities get in the way of your friendship.”

He took a deep breath, unsure if he had said enough or if he should keep going. But before he could let his mind spiral into more thoughts and choices, he heard Will’s voice and the soft squeeze of his hand, “I’m sorry too.”

Will was overcome with emotions from Gabe’s apology and honestly, he didn’t even have to say all of it to know he meant it, from the moment he found out that he had reached out to Mack on his own accord he had forgiven him, maybe even before that. 

“I know that no matter what I say is going to live up to that,” the two let out wet chuckles before he continued. “But I am sorry for saying that you were acting like a child. I also should’ve seen things from your perspective and I didn’t, and it probably would’ve made a lot more sense if I had.”

He let himself reach up to run a hand through Gabe’s hair which made him instantly melt into his touch. He listened as Will continued speaking but most of the words fell deaf upon his years. He should be listening, he knew that, but he was just so grateful to actually talk to them that the topic at hand didn’t really matter. 

Meanwhile, Mack and Molly sat in the living room where Molly was critiquing a shitty movie he had put on, it was one of her favorite stress-relieving tactics. 

“How’re you holding up?”

She sighed, nibbling on her bottom lip, “Okay.”

“You’re not.”

“I know.” She curled her knees into her chest, fidgeting with her earrings, “Do you know how hard it is to make two 19-year-olds speak to each other?”

Mack laughed, bringing her into a side hug, “Do you know how hard it is having to deal with a mopey and frustrated Will?”

“Probably the same as dealing with an insecure and guilt-ridden Gabe.”

They heard the click of the door, heads snapping towards it to see the two walk out of the bedroom still hand-in-hand. When she saw it, she smiled and let out a sigh of relief, making her way over to them. She brought them into a hug, her grasp firm, “Please tell me you two are okay.”

“We are sweetheart,” Gabe’s hand brushed the strands of hair that fell into her face behind her ear, pressing a kiss to her head, “We are.”

“I’m sorry we put you in the middle of this, we never should’ve done it and-”

“If one of you apologizes to me one more time, I’m seriously going to lose my fucking mind more than I already have. And if you two ever and I mean ever fight like that again, I’m breaking up with you.”

Will nodded, kissing her temple, “I don’t doubt it, sweet girl. I don’t.”

Mack stood from the couch, making his way to his room to give the three their privacy. He only made it halfway before a call of his voice stopped him in his tracks, turning to see Gabe staring at him. He raised his eyebrow in question, “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He just nodded in response, continuing his trek to his room. Will watched the exchange before looking back down where Molly stood, bringing the two of them closer together. At that moment, for the first time in two weeks, all three of them knew that they were going to be okay.

꒰ THE FILM EFFECT TAGLIST ꒱

@winterbarnesblog @delilaahh9 @digitalhughes-jpg @rowdyluv @fantillisgirl @macklin-celebrini-71

THE FILM EFFECT MASTERLIST ; AU'S

TAGLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

[vandal-flower]

Saying Something Stupid, like I Love You

Poseidon x Amphitrite!Reader

Requested. @amphitriteswife

Plot: Poseidon faces a dilemma concerning his love life. Reluctantly accepting their help, he plans to make things right with (Name). Thankfully she is lonely on New Year's and needs all the company she can get.

Warnings: Poseidon is bad at feelings but it works out, angst but a happy end.

Notes: Happy new year. Here is my gift. 🐚

"You've been an awful mood lately.", Zeus teased, raking his beard as he chuckled.

His brother, Poseidon didn't dare to say anything, but instead glared at him. Not that it would do much anyways.

"Look I was right Hades! Doesn't he look like a pouting child!", at this point Poseidon nearly summoned his trident just to skewer his brother, not caring for the consequences at hand.

But before he could, Hades smacked Zeus's head, "Quit your teasing Zeus, but you do have a point. Brother what is going on with you, did something happen?", Hades glanced over at the ruler of the seas with a look of concern.

In all his years, not once did Hades ever see Poseidon be so...off. Sure he is arrogant, but he has the power to back it up. But now, he looks as if he is distressed. This whole week he has been.

From what he heard, he has been ignoring meetings with his fellow godlike beings, causing unnecessary problems, ignoring his duties on Olympus, and at one point nearly flooded the whole of Olympus when asked about it.

Since that incident, no one has been able to tell him to stop, out of fear of being killed.

"It's nothing you should concern yourself. I'm perfectly fine."

If there was anything that Hades knew better than anyone else, it was that Poseidon was a terrible liar.

Zeus sneaked behind Poseidon's chair, "Let me take a guess."

"You need my help but you don't want to admit it."

"I would never require the assistance of someone like you."

"You accidentally broke your trident and now you're throwing a fit."

"Should I smite you with said 'broken trident' Zeus?"

"Is it concerning Amphitrite?", Hades asked, breaking the dispute between his younger brothers.

Poseidon was silent. Bingo.

Zeus's laugh filled the room as Hades chuckled at the sudden realization. Poseidon has been having love problems. Should news of Poseidon's love life ever go out, the Heavens would fall apart. Maidens and potential suitors would have their dreams shattered.

Realizing he could not get out of this mess, Poseidon, reluctantly, have a brief summary of his situation.

Amphitrite or (Name), has been distancing herself from him as of late. Everytime he approached her, she would throw some reason to excuse herself. No longer could he see her glowing dark skin under the sun, or the moonlight. Stare into her eyes that put the beauty of various beings to shame. He could no longer be held by her, or even listen to her enchanting voice.

In short, he could no longer be with her.

"I never thought you would be a lovesick fool Poseidon. Never thought they day would come.", Zeus joked earning another glare from Poseidon.

"It makes sense, you have been a temper tantrum. I should've stopped your habit if I knew it was going to be this bad.", Hades said, a smile growing on his face as he too teased the King of the Seas.

Poseidon hated the reaction he received from his brothers. They were making fun of him, and had it not been for the fact that they're his most trusted pupils, he would of ended their lives swiftly long time ago.

Soon, Hades collected himself, and Zeus followed suit. "So do you want our help or not, lover boy Poseidon?", Zeus nudged Poseidon, further agitating him.

With no other option, Poseidon answered a begrudgingly "yes".

The aftermath of Christmas lingers as festive lights and decorations all around the Heavens. With the new year, brought new beginnings and although it was meant to bring joy, it had only brought more sadness to (Name).

Seeing all the couples walking around with each other in arms, or buying more fireworks to celebrate the new years at their parties. Not to mention, a sculpture of Zeus dressed up in a tuxedo with Hera beside him with a glamorous dress to showcase her beauty. How great...

As much as she wished to climb into the arms of her friends to get rid of her feelings, she couldn't. With the following reasons...

Her nymph friends were trying to get a chance to be with gods like Apollo.

Persephone was visiting Hades in the Underworld or her mother on the Overworld.

Other friends of hers were visiting family or too busy.

Nonetheless, she was alone. She sighed to herself, the cold wind gently blowing against her face."For a bright and lively season like this, you don't like you're having much fun."

(Name) perplexed at the sudden voice, turned around to see Hermes. "Happy New Year to you Hermes. Any deliveries you should be attending to?", she looked at him with suspicion. Hermes smiled wider than usual.

"No reason.", he spoke. "However if I were you, I would go to the beach to calm all my worries." He pointed towards the beach, his smile not faltering not once. (Name) frowned at his words.

Sure, the beach would be great. Sand under her feet, and a chance to relax in the cool waters. However it reminded her of Poseidon.

Something told her that he doesn't like her presence as he hardly ever responded to what she says, only answering with a nod or a hum. And with his cold attitude, it only made sense he didn't think much of her or at all. The guilt of wasting his and her time ate her inside.

So to avoid making the situation worse, she distanced herself. Sure it hurts, but it's the thought that counts.

"Any reason for you to say that? In fact, why don't you mind your business, go run errands somewhere. I'm busy.", she waved off his suggestion and continued walking.

"Oh, but you have to. Poseidon ordered for your presence. And if word got out that you rejected the Poseidon himself, what would the Heavens make of you?"

Damn. He made a good point.

With no other choice, (Name) changed course and walked towards the beach. Not without cursing Hermes.

"So...you wanted my presence, Lord Poseidon?", (Name) asked. Before her was a dinner table and multiple decorations: seashells, corals, and lights. Donned in a fine suit with a small flower in the chest pocket, was the King of the Seas with his signature cold gaze. In his hands held a bouquet.

"I would like to take you to dinner.", he answered as she still tried to process the situation. This was all too much! The dinner table, decorations, and the flowers?

It would have been anyone's dream to experience was the scene right in front of her eyes, but not her. She avoided Poseidon like the plague only for him to ask for her and present her with dinner? Romantic as it is, it seemed suspicious...

"But, why? You clearly don't like my presence, so why the sudden change, AND why did you feel the need to plan a romantic dinner?!"

His eyes glanced at a rock that hid both Hades and Zeus, the duo gave him a thumbs up. He glared at them before turning his attention back to (Name). "I wanted to make you feel special, and...to apologize for my behaviour towards you."

If there was one thing the King of the Seas was not good at doing was apologies, however it was always genuine whenever he was backed into a corner to apologize.

"Apologize?"

"Yes."

Internally, (Name) clutched her pearls. Poseidon the King of the Seas, most feared Olympian, apologizing?! "It must be a dream", she thought.

Poseidon took a deep breath, silently cursing his brothers, " (Name), for the past weeks that I was away from your presence, I had the opportunity to contemplate my actions towards you."

"Every time you make some pathetic excuse to avoid me, it...breaks my heart to see you go. Your presence makes living more tolerable, since I'm surrounded by a circus.", Zeus gasped is shock at his comment, had it not been for Hades stopping him, he would have ruined the moment.

"You are more enchanting than the stars themselves, your voice eases my heart, and even if I were to give you a thousand compliments today and ten thousand tomorrow, it would still not be enough to describe how I truly feel about you."

Despite the cold look on his face, his cheeks and ears were dusted with pink. His eyes held a hidden warmth only meant for her. He walked towards (Name), holding the bouquet of forget-me-nots to her. It looked like he wanted to propose to her.

"But why, do this all for me, why do you want me?", (Name) asked, tears about to spill from her eyes. Poseidon sighed, "Because I love you."

Zeus and Hades popped their heads from behind the rock, eyes wide open. To hear their Poseidon actually say he loves someone was a miracle of itself.

Time had stood still for a moment between (Name) and Poseidon. Without realizing, tears had already started streaming down her face. Closing the distance from the two, Poseidon wiped her tears away with his thumbs. (Name) pressed her forehead against his, her eyes looking into his own.

"I appreciate the view, allowing me to see your eyes closely once more.", he whispered causing a smile to form on her face. She wrapped her arms around his waist, before giving him a kiss on the lips. As she pulled away, she rested her hands on his cheeks.

"Come back to my palace, there's a new collection of pearls and other accessories that I believe would suit you."

"I would love to, my dearest."

The two entered the ocean together, Poseidon in the arms of (Name), and (Name) telling him of her latest adventures. Once the two were gone, Zeus and Hades left their hiding spot.

"Well that turned out better than I anticipated.", the King of the Heavens smiled. "But what to do about the dinner setup?", Hades questioned.

The two stopped and thought about, "I'll just use it as an apology to Hera, after we had our argument the other day.", Zeus said.

"You are really shameless."

Happy new years!!

Sorry if Poseidon is ooc, but we deserve a soft Poseidon at least once in a while...

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Gonna need a nando x reader one shot where reader gets insanely jealous maybe she over hears her cousin she doesn’t like very much talking about nando but reader and nando aren’t together at this point I don’t know you make the plot up just want angst and fluff to end again please 🙏

"More Than Enough"

It was another one of those family gatherings where you felt like a pawn in the game of comparison and judgment. You'd known your relatives your whole life, but their words and looks always made you feel small, insignificant—like you never quite measured up to their expectations.

Most of the time, you learned to tune them out. But tonight, with Fernando Alonso present, it was harder than ever to do so.From a young age, your family had made you feel like you were always on the outside.

Your cousin Isabella, with her perfect, airbrushed life, was a constant reminder that you were never good enough in their eyes. She was everything they wanted you to be—outgoing, confident, always polished. And you? Well, you were quieter. You preferred books over parties, simple joys over social status. In your family’s eyes, you were invisible, a wallflower.And then there was Fernando.

He wasn’t a stranger to you. You and Nando had been friends for years, but in the last few months, something between you had changed. There had been stolen glances, moments where his eyes lingered just a little longer than necessary.

He would brush your arm by accident, but the way his touch lingered made your heart flutter. You weren’t sure if he felt the same, but you had started to see him in a new light. It was terrifying. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he knew how much you cared for him.

What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he drifted away, and you lost the one constant thing in your life?Tonight, you had tried your best to avoid the reality of your emotions, burying them deep inside, but it was hard when you kept stealing glances at Nando across the room. His laughter, his infectious smile, the way his eyes seemed to search for yours in the crowd—it was all too much to ignore.

Every time you saw him, it felt like your heart skipped a beat. But you were scared, scared that these feelings would destroy your friendship.The tension between you and your family had always been palpable. Your parents, though not overtly cruel, would always make remarks that cut deep. You were never good enough in their eyes—your grades, your career choices, your social life—it was never up to their standards. And every time you left a family gathering, you felt worse about yourself than when you arrived.But Isabella? She was different.

She was everything your family praised. And when it came to Fernando? She made no secret of the fact that she thought she was the only one worthy of him.You had overheard her before, making passive-aggressive comments about your friendship with Nando. Tonight was no different.

You were in the kitchen, trying to escape the chaos of your family, when you heard Isabella’s voice from the living room.

You froze, your hands stilling as you tried to listen."Did you see Fernando today?" Isabella was saying, her tone too sweet for comfort. "He’s just… gorgeous, isn’t he? So perfect. And I’m sure he could have anyone.

But you know, some people don't even know how to show interest."

Your heart twisted painfully, a pang of jealousy you hadn’t realized was growing inside you suddenly bursting to the surface. You stood still, your body frozen, and listened to her laugh, the sound of it like nails on a chalkboard.

"And," she continued with a casual air, "I bet if I tried, I could take him away from her, don’t you think?"Your chest tightened at her words. Her—she meant you.

She always did.

You felt your hands tremble with frustration and hurt, but you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had struck a nerve.

You had to hold it together.You’d never told Fernando how you felt. You never would, not after everything your family had made you believe about yourself. You weren’t worthy of someone like him. Not with someone like Isabella around.

The rest of the evening was a blur. Your family’s loud chatter filled the room, but your mind was elsewhere—on the words that still echoed in your mind and on Fernando, who seemed to be a constant presence, even when he wasn’t right in front of you.

Every time you caught his eye, he would smile softly, and every time your gaze drifted to him, his eyes would linger just a moment too long.

You couldn’t figure it out—was it just friendly affection, or was there something more?Your heart ached, torn between wanting to tell him how you felt and the fear that it would ruin everything.

Finally, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You needed space. You slipped out the back door of the house and into the cool night air, hoping to breathe away the suffocating feeling that seemed to surround you. You stood there, staring out into the darkness, trying to push back the tears that were threatening to spill.

That’s when you heard footsteps behind you."Y/N?"You turned around, startled to see Fernando standing there, his eyes full of concern.

"What’s wrong? You look upset."You tried to smile, but it came out weak

"It’s nothing, Nando. Just… family stuff."

You waved it off, hoping he wouldn’t press further.But Nando wasn’t one to let things go so easily, especially when it came to you. He stepped closer, his hand gently brushing your arm.

"Talk to me," he said softly.

"What’s really going on?"The floodgates opened, and you found yourself spilling everything to him—everything about your family, your cousin, your insecurities.

You told him about how Isabella had always made you feel inferior, how your family’s constant criticism made you feel worthless.

You looked at Nando, expecting him to pull away, to let you go, but instead, he pulled you into his arms.“Y/N," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You are so much more than enough. I don’t care about Isabella, I don’t care about your family. You are perfect just the way you are.”Your heart shattered with relief as you felt the warmth of his embrace, his words washing over you like a balm.

He pulled back, looking into your eyes with so much tenderness that you felt your knees weaken. “Listen to me,” he said firmly. “I’ve always admired you, more than anyone. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel small. Especially her.”

For a moment, you just stood there, stunned, taking in the softness in his eyes. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed to hear those words, how much you needed him to say them.“I… I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nando,” you whispered, your voice trembling.“You’ll never have to find out,” he promised, his hand gently caressing your cheek.

There was a long, charged silence before Nando stepped back, his eyes now filled with a different intensity. “I don’t care if anyone else sees it, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and purposeful.

“But I care about you. I’ve cared about you for a long time. And I want everyone to know it.”

Before you could even process what he meant, he reached for your hand and led you back inside, where the rest of your family was still gathered.

Isabella’s sharp gaze immediately found you both, but she couldn’t have known what was coming.Nando stood in the center of the room, pulling you gently to stand beside him.

All eyes were on you as he turned to face you, his grip on your hand tightening.“I know we’ve been friends for a long time,” he said, his voice clear and unwavering. “But I can’t hide it anymore. Y/N, you mean more to me than anyone else. Will you be mine? Will you be my girlfriend?”

The room fell silent as everyone’s eyes snapped to you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were in a dream. But then Nando’s lips found yours in a soft, reassuring kiss, and you couldn’t have cared less about what anyone else thought.You kissed him back, your heart pounding with happiness and relief as the weight of everything you had been carrying melted away.When the kiss broke, Nando kept you close, his forehead resting against yours.

“You are more than enough,” he whispered. “Don’t ever forget that.”Isabella, who had been standing in the corner with a shocked expression, opened her mouth to say something, but before she could get a word out, Fernando’s voice cut through the tension.“And as for you,” he said, his tone suddenly cold and firm, “if you ever think you can come between me and the person I care about again, I suggest you think twice. Y/N is my choice. Always.”

Your heart swelled with love, and you knew, in that moment, that you were finally seen. Finally, enough.As the evening continued, you could feel the eyes of your family on you.

But it didn’t matter anymore. Because you were exactly where you belonged—in Fernando’s arms, with his love, and knowing that, finally, you were enough.

[moonlightspencie]

And I Will Follow You Home

Chapter 6 of ‘treacherous’

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: the final chapter! i may do some blurbs within this universe if anyone wants them as well, but this series is officially complete.

“Hey,” a voice came softly.

Remus turned towards the wall, unwilling to move from the bed.

“Remus.”

“What?” 

Sirius sat with his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, there’s a meeting downstairs in ten minutes. Most of the others have already arrived.”

Remus fell silent again, clenching his jaw. Sirius huffed a sigh, shaking his head to himself.

“You can’t keep skipping the meetings, mate. They’re important. You’re acting like a big baby.”

“You don’t understand–”

“What I understand is that she’s still showing up, and you’re not. Considering you’re so hung up on your age, you’d think you’d be more inclined to act like an adult.”

“I can’t look at her,” Remus admitted quietly, pulling the covers over his shoulders.

He had hardly been able to look at himself in the mirror after that night, let alone come face to face with you. You’d admitted you loved him, and all he could do was wreck it. It’s all he ever seemed to do, he thought, was to wreck things. He knew he was acting like a child and a coward, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit he’d wanted you just as much. Now he was coming to terms with the fact that he may never have the chance again.

“She still looks for you every time she comes into the house, you know?” Sirius said, crossing his arms.

“Probably so she can steer clear.”

“You’re the one who practically told her no.”

“No, I didn’t,” he snapped suddenly. “I didn’t. I just–”

“You just told her you didn’t want her right now. That’s just as bad, mate.”

He was quiet, the guilt creeping in again, washing over him. Sirius let out a breath, standing from the bed.

“We start in ten minutes. Be there, Mooney, or else I’m bringing everyone else up here,” he stated, then left the room.

You were sitting in a chair in the kitchen, trying hard not to think about the fact that Remus was a staircase and a couple of doors away from you. It had been weeks since you’d seen him, and unfortunately, absence really did make the heart grow fonder. You fiddled with the spoon you’d used for your tea nearly an hour ago, waiting for Sirius to return. So, it felt extra foolish when your heart began racing as you heard someone enter the kitchen, only to find Sirius giving you a small smile.

“Oh. Hey.”

He quirked a brow. “Wow. What a warm welcome that was.”

You let out a short laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Tall, dark, and moody’s more your thing,” he teased, sitting next to you. “He’ll be at the meeting today.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

You shrugged. “I mean… what else am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I just hate seeing you upset like this. Thought it might cheer you up to see him.”

“What, you think I’ll be all fluttery and excited for him to ignore me all evening?”

“Snippy.”

You sighed. “He doesn’t… He avoids me at all costs, now, Siri. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

“No. You were in the right. He’s just a big baby who can’t handle his emotions.”

“Mm.”

“Hey,” he said softly, waiting for you to look at him. “He does love you.”

“Not enough.”

“But one day–”

“It shouldn’t be an if-and-when, Sirius. The world is literally falling apart and he still refuses to be with me. What else would possibly compel him?”

He swallowed, looking a little more somber as his eyes darted down to the counter. “I don’t know, Sunshine. But you both deserve to be happy.”

“Tell that to him.”

“I’ve tried. He’s a stubborn fucker.”

You laughed a bit at that. “He is.”

“You love it about him, though, don’t you? Head over heels for some raggedy, old mule.”

“Hot, raggedy, old mule, to be fair.”

“Gross,” he laughed.

“But… no. I really don’t love that bit about him. I wish it would catch on fire and disintegrate.”

“Come on, but then he wouldn’t be Mooney.”

“But he’d love me.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but came up short, merely pulling you into his side in a hug. You let him hold you, leaning into him. As if on cue, though, Dumpling came strolling in, his chubby little body bumping against your feet, heading straight for his favorite uncle.

“He’s obsessed with you,” you said, watching as Sirius picked him up.

“Who wouldn’t be?” He winked, that cheeky smirk of his shining through as he kissed Dumpling’s soft forehead. “Horrible little beast. Quite the attention hog.”

“Two peas in a pod.”

He chuckled, cradling the cat as Dumpling purred away. You reached over, petting the little traitor as he snuggled up happily to Sirius. You hadn’t even registered that anyone had come into the kitchen until you heard a voice that had you jumping out of your skin from one small word.

“Oh,” Remus muttered softly, freezing up as he looked between you and Sirius. Though he never quite met your eye. “Sorry. Just came for some tea before the meeting.”

“There’s a kettle on the stove. Probably just needs to be heated again,” Sirius responded.

“Right,” Remus nodded, walking quickly to the stove.

Your eyes followed him the whole way, that familiar warm feeling still blooming in your chest as it always did when he was around. 

“I brought a new flavor. Vanilla Caramel,” you blurted out. “If you want some. It’s sweet.”

Remus nodded, not turning around. “Okay.”

You chewed your lip, watching him carefully. You wanted to go over there and kiss him silly again. You also wanted to slap him. But mostly, you just wanted him to look at you.

“I made Sirius go for some cream, too.”

“Right.”

“Your favorite mug is in the cupboard.”

He only nodded that time.

You huffed out a breath, looking to Sirius for help, though he was too preoccupied petting your cat. You looked at Remus again, still standing like stone in front of the stove. You suddenly stood, going to the cupboard to get his mug. You brought it to the counter you were sitting at, setting it right in the center. You then went to get the cream and sugar, leaving them next to the mug. Finally, you reached for the tea, putting a bag in his mug before you sat down again. If he wouldn’t look at you, you could at least get him to face you.

“Why’d you do that?” Sirius asked, a little bewildered at your behavior.

“Thought it would be easier for Remus to prepare his tea if it was all set out.”

Sirius raised a brow at you, then glanced at Remus who was just turning off the whistling kettle.

“Well… Dumpling and I will be… somewhere,” Sirius nodded once, a tiny smirk in your direction as he stood, walking out of the room with the cat.

Remus finally turned, pouring the steaming water into the mug. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

He was quiet, filling the mug and then letting it sit for a moment as the tea leaves steeped.

You watched him for a second. “You’ve been missing meetings.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With who?”

He huffed a sigh in frustration. “Nobody. You know that.”

“You’re acting like you have something to hide. How am I supposed to know?”

“You should know because I…” he shook his head, cutting himself off. “I’m not seeing anybody. I’m not even talking to anyone except for Sirius.”

“Hm,” you nodded slowly, then looked back at him, studying his face as he looked into the cup. “I’ve missed you.”

“Please don’t start.”

“You’re being a dick. We were friends first, you know? I’m allowed to miss you.”

He finally looked at you, feeling his chest compress when he met your eyes. He wanted to snark back. He wanted to push you away. Despite the guilt he felt, he didn’t want to hurt you even more. But his pull to you felt just as magnetic as ever.

“How do you not hate me?”

“Probably because I love you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

“Quit trying to tell me what to do,” you shot back. “Trust me, if I could stop, I would.”

He frowned, looking back at his cup of tea, wishing he could drown in it. His jaw clenched, his head shaking softly again.

“Darling…”

“You said you didn’t want me,” you uttered quietly.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You may as well have.”

“I don’t want to lose you. There’s a difference.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous, and you know it.”

He sighed. “How? You’re… you’re everything. You’re brilliant and beautiful and kind and… and I don’t deserve someone like you.”

“Why do you have to insist on–” you stop, groaning in annoyance. “I can’t keep arguing about this. Why can’t you just trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s myself.”

“You’re so dramatic,” I roll my eyes. 

“No, I’m not. I’m being–”

“Sirius told me about you breaking his lamp. That’s drama.”

His cheeks went pink. “I only did that because you stormed out on me!”

“Yeah, because you all but told me you would never be with me!”

“I told you I loved you!”

“No, you didn’t. I said you didn’t and you said ‘I do’. That’s not the same thing as saying the words.”

“Well, I… I…”

You stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He blinked, staring at you with wide eyes.

“I love you.”

You all but gasped with the breath you sucked in, your stomach fluttering as his eyes were still glued to yours.

“Remus…”

“The meeting is starting soon,” he said, abandoning his tea on the counter as he started to move towards the door of the kitchen.

“Please don't do this again,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “Please. Stop running.”

“Baby, I can’t look at you without wanting you in every way possible. Please don’t make this harder for me.”

“You just said you love me. Just let me believe that’s true.”

He shook his head, turning to you fully. “It is true.”

“Why are you trying to leave again, then? Stop doing that to me.”

“I– I already told you. I can’t lose you.”

“The only way you’ll lose me is by pushing me away like this,” you said, voice raised in frustration. “We already did this once, Remus, and then you avoided me for a month. Don’t do that again.”

“You don’t understand what this is for me–”

“Then make me understand.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes drawing all over your face for a few moments as you waited with baited breath for him to say anything. He went over every possible response in his head, but only one won out.

You shuddered a breath against him as his lips suddenly met yours in a kiss that was far more hungry than the one you’d shared last time you were together. His arms went around your waist, pulling you tightly into his chest, his grip possessive and needy. His tongue pushed into your mouth, leaving you whining softly, your hands in his hair.

“Don’t ever tell me I don’t love you,” he muttered against your lips as he broke away for a moment. “Or that I don’t want you. I want you more than anything.”

“Then have me,” you whispered back.

He stared at you, his eyes hooded and focused in on your lips. Though, you were both taken out of it as you heard Dumbledore’s muffled voice calling the Order meeting to start.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, head dropping against his shoulder.

He took a few deep breaths, stroking your hair softly. “We should go.”

“I know.”

“We can… We can talk about this later…”

You looked up at him. “You have to promise you won’t run again. Actually listen to me this time. I don’t want to argue.”

“Baby.” He frowned a little.

“Please, Remus. You can’t kiss me like that and expect me to be content with friendship.”

“I–”

“Just promise you’ll listen this time.”

“O-okay. Okay, fine,” he nodded. “Promise.”

You stared for another few seconds before nodding as well. You then broke away, intending on going to the meeting, though not before he grabbed your arm, pulling you into one more kiss. His lips moved against yours softly, but certainly not lacking passion. It only lasted for fifteen seconds before he pulled away again.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, we can go now.”

You nodded, hoping you’d be able to pull yourself together enough to not be a flustered mess through the meeting. Though, you were certain by Sirius’s shit-eating grin when you’d both walked in that he knew within milliseconds. The bastard.

The meeting felt excruciatingly long, your gaze frequently being drawn to Remus who looked as calm and cool as ever. Also a bastard.

It wasn’t until you were back at Remus’s home, however, that you really started feeling the nerves kick in. You were in the living room, in the spot you’d always sit in, waiting for him to bring the tea. You stared hard at the coasters on the coffee table that hadn’t moved since the first time you’d ever been in the room. Now, though, you felt compelled as you leaned forward, pushing them a little closer together.

He came out a few minutes later, glancing down at the coasters, noticing their new position. He smiled a little to himself, though didn’t say anything as he sat down the mugs of tea. But this time, instead of sitting with you, he went to get a book from his shelf. You watched curiously as he browsed, searching seemingly for a specific book.

“What are you looking for?”

“Hold on.”

You chuckled softly. “Pardon me for the impatience.”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He finally pulled out a book. “Ah.”

“Which one is that?” you asked as he came to sit next to you, closer than usual. 

He flipped through the pages, looking for one in particular.

“Here it is,” he said at last, showing the page to you. “Do you remember this?”

You nodded. “Of course I do. It's the first thing I ever read to you here.”

“It is.” He nodded, reading over it. “I… This line, here. The underlined one…”

“‘If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me’,” you read from the book. 

“If you can believe it… I was convinced I loved you then. I was sure you’d never feel the same. And then… Then I found out you did. It terrifies me.”

“It terrifies you that I love you?”

He nodded, looking directly at you. “You’re too good for me. You have to know that.”

“Stop saying that.”

“It’s true.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is,” he replied softly, bringing a hand up to your cheek. “It is true. And you can believe it isn’t all you want, but–”

“Stop. Please.”

“You need to understand.”

“I understand that you think you’re some kind of monster. I understand that you’re scared. What you need to understand is that I don’t care about any of that,” you say softly. “Remus… You’re right that it would be hard to be together sometimes, with everything going on. I could go be with someone who’d be easier to be with, but I don’t want anybody else. Hell, I worked day and night just to develop a potion because I knew it would help you.”

“Why are you so insistent on being with me?”

“Because you’re everything to me.”

He let out a soft breath. “You’re foolish.”

“And you’re a little bitch sometimes, but I love you anyways,” you tease, reaching up to hold his wrist as his hand stayed on your cheek. 

He scoffed a laugh. “You’ve been spending too much time with Sirius.”

“You were ignoring me for weeks. I had to hang out with someone.”

His smile faded. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never.”

He took in a breath. “If… If you want this… like, really want this with me… you have to know that I can’t give you a peaceful life.”

“But will you love me?”

“Of course.”

“That’s enough.”

He swallowed down a lump in this throat. “It’s not always enough to just have love.”

“It will be, though. You’re kind, loyal, smart. Not to mention handsome,” you smile a little, as does he, his cheeks a little pink. “Whatever comes with being with you… I want it. All of it.”

“You don’t–”

“You all but told me you wouldn’t be with me, and you were still all I could think of after the fact. You have me already, Remus. You know that. I’m not going to shy away now.”

“You have me, too. In an iron grip, apparently.”

You laugh a little. “I don’t care what goes wrong. There’s far too much that’s right, and no matter how foolish you think that is, I think you’re ten times more dumb for trying to ignore that.”

He shook his head. “I… absolutely adore you.”

“Is that you saying you want this?”

“It’s me saying that you’ve somehow changed my mind. I think you’ve hexed me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He smiled. “Can’t help it. Most beautiful woman in the world is in front of me, you can’t expect me to be thinking clearly.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He kissed back, just as gently, resting both of his hands on your cheeks.

“You moved the coasters closer,” he whispered.

“I did.”

“The tea is still hot.”

“It is,” you replied, raising a brow.

He sucked in a breath, eyes falling down and over your form. “So… we have some time before it cools off.”

The faintest smirk crept onto your face. “We do.”

Sunlight streamed in the room at sunrise, falling on two full, cold cups of tea, matching coasters, and a still-open book.

[sailornymph]

Hihi!!! I would like to request the uchihas as older brothers maybe?? How they would be towards their younger sibling and such,, I hope you get what I mean!! Thank you anyhow💓

“DEAR BROTHER”

the uchiha men as older brothers 

♡︎ madara uchiha 

— madara and izuna are both incredibly protective, but with madara being oldest, he’s worst

— you’re strongest than most girls your age, but still weaker than him, meaning you need protection

— he helps you with training and self defense for when he isn’t around

— he’s the type to give you pep talks about how you are capable of being the strongest among your age group, if you work for it

— when izuna dies, he becomes even more protective, you aren’t even allowed to leave the compound without shinobi

— hates the idea of you dating, but only because he doesn’t want you with someone who is completely useless

— your outcome could end up being one of the two possibilities. he fakes your death, along with his, taking you with him. or, you get the news that he has died, and you become the next clan leader because other than izuna, you were the next person thought to be worthy enough of the title

— 6/10. he isn’t the worst, but he is too power driven. he knows that he is the best and he wants his youngest sister to be just like him. knowing the strength he and his siblings have, no one will ever be good enough, because they’re all weak

“y/n,” madara called out, making you gasp, pushing hikaki away to run, however izuna was in front of him in a flash, grabbing him.

“izuna, let him go,” you pleaded.

“you’ve been missing all evening, had everyone worried, but you’ve been with this boy,” madara said, glaring at the boy.

“big brother, please,” you pouted.

“don’t look at her, you always give in,” madara said to izuna.

“is this boy uchiha?” izuna asked you, his eyes on the boy, struggling in his arms.

“exactly, he doesn’t look like a uchiha to me, what did i tell you about outsiders?”

“brother-

“what did i tell you?”

“they’re weaker,” you held you head down in defeat.

“it is the truth, how could i trust this imbecile to protect our precious baby sister, when he can’t protect himself from this,” he said, easily putting the boy into a genjutsu.

izuna let the boy go and suddenly he screamed in agony, dropping to his knees. rushing to his aid, you tried to help him, but he held the look of fear in his eyes.

“madara, izuna,” you whined.

“promise you will stop seeing this pathetic little thing,” madara said, the look of disgust on his face.

“i promise, just stop it,” you cried, relieved when hikaki relaxed.

“now your end of the deal,” he said, making you glare at him.

“don’t glare, if you put this much energy into training, you would be the strongest person i knew,” he said, watching as you stormed off.

“you better go easy on the words, or you’ll get the silent treatment again,” izuna said, leaving to catch up with you to apologize.

“silent treatment? y/n, you wouldn’t ignore your dear brother would you, i just want you with a strong uchiha,” he explained, his jaw dropping, realizing you hadn’t turned to him yet, and kept walking with izuna.

“y/n, as your oldest brother, i demand you stop this now,” he called out, trying to catch up with you.

♡︎ itachi uchiha 

— the most caring big brother, like the literal best

— he’s the oldest, while sasuke is the youngest, leaving you in the middle, but he is very attentive to you, so you never feel left out as the middle child

— you follow his footsteps of working for the anbu, and he requests that you be placed on his team. when his dangerous mission is brought up, a task that is too big of a burden for a child, he takes it anyway. you overhear everything waiting on him outside of the office. exiting, he looks at you, knowing that you most likely heard, and from your look alone, knows that you will leave with him

— he doesn’t want you to carry the burden, so he tells you, if you plan to leave with him, to wait outside of the compound, while if you want, you could stay with sasuke

— leaving with him means leaving your life as a shinobi behind because he will not allow you to join akatsuki with him, instead he implies that you are weak to tobi, how he hardly let you kill anyone on your missions, so that you seem uninteresting. instead, he helps you get a comfortable home and job to begin building your life someplace new

— he’s not over protective, he knows you can take care of yourself. however, he does not tolerate disrespect towards his baby sister

— visits in between missions, at first it was typical activities, bringing him dangos that you made before his arrival, telling him about your week, while he sulks. as his health declines, it usually involves you taking care of him to some degree

— despite getting sick, he tries to hide it and continue old activities, cooking, piggybacking, or reading

— leading up to his death, he suggests that you make your presence known to sasuke and at least act like he forced you to come along with him

— 8.5/10. even after everything he had to do, he tried to remain that same big brother as before the incident. even as he planned for his death, he wanted you and sasuke to reunite, even if it gave his baby brother a another reason to be mad at him

carefully sitting each dango stick on the plate, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. itachi usually came around this time. pouting, you felt your eyes watering, as you thought of your last conversation.

“i want you to do a favor for me”

“what is it?”

“go back to konoha, or at least that way, to run into sasuke”

“why-

“when you see him, i want you to tell him that i forced you to leave with me, that night,” he said, his head low. this became a regular position for him, since beginning to lose his sight.

“itachi”

“could you do that for your dear brother?”

“and what about you?”

“i knew what i signed up for,” is all he said, he said, laying his head on your shoulder.

it had been over two weeks, since receiving the news that he was now dead. the numbness was settling in, but your brain couldn’t seem to accept the truth. you still continued preparing your home, as if he would show up. your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your door. you couldn’t believe part of you expected to see itachi, waiting with a small gift in his akatsuki cloak, as usual. however, what you didn’t expect to see was sasuke.

opening the door, you stared with widened eyes, unable to believe what you were seeing. he had grown so much taller.

“sasuk-

you were interrupted by him pulling you into his arms. you could feel the wetness on your shoulders from his tears.

“how did you find me?”

“tobi,” he said, making your eyes widened.

“you know the truth”

“even itachi’s plans for you,” he said.

“i couldn’t, you were already so angry with him, i give you another reason to hate him, when he loved everyone so much,” you cried.

“i wish i could go back-

“don’t, itachi was at peace, he loved you so much, but he was sick and suffering and he can now rest,” you reassured him.

“and what about you? what was your reason for leaving?”

“after all of the things he had done, he needed someone there for him too, we knew you would have friends, we were always different from everyone, but you were always a likable boy, and we were right,” you lightly smiled, wiping your eyes.

“those are not my friends, they’re uh teammates, is that dango?” he asked, nervously.

“yes, would you like some? come, make yourself at home, tell me how life has been for you, baby brother,” you said, sitting the plate in front of him. maybe you could fulfill itachi’s dying wish.

♡︎ indra ōtsutsuki

— there is a 50/50 chance of how you’re treated, but either way it is toxic

— if you’re closer to asura then he will torment you, so steer clear of his path

— however, if you are closer to him, he will hold on to you, in his eyes, you’re the only person who sees his worth

— he’s practically yandere

— he’s protective, very protective, no one is worthy of your presence or attention, not even friends or family

— father wants you to train, well he will train you, he is the strongest anyway

— don’t even think of dating, everyone is beneath you both. he wouldn’t say it to your face, but he’ll beat them all in fights, he’ll scare them away, all you need is your big brother to love you anyway

— 3/10. he loves you so much, but if you're close to him, he will turn you against your family to side with him and your fate will be the same as his.

“indra, have you seen y/n?” the boy hesitantly backed away, being met with a glare.

“why?”

“i asked him to ask, no need to attack the child,” asura chuckled, patting the boy’s back, watching as he ran off.

“what do you want with y/n?”

“she is my baby sister too, you know,” asura smiled, but he was met with a straight face.

“i was hoping to talk to her, father wants to make sure her training is going well, and for me to-

“don't worry about her training, i will take care of it”

“how is she actually?”

“she hurt father, moving out without a word, and she hasn't said anything to him since,” he continued.

“i’ll bring it up,” indra mumbled, relieved when asura stopped following him, as he entered his home.

“big brother? welcome home,” you smiled, as he softly knocked at your door, letting himself in.

“what did you do today?” he asked, sitting next to you.

“i worked on the garden, it is finally coming together”

“that is great, no one tried talking to you, did they?”

“no, they always stay away, like something is wrong with me”

“nothing is wrong with you, it is them,” he reassured.

“we will start back your training tomorrow, father wants to see how much you’ve grown,” he continued, watching as you squealed excitedly.

“i can’t wait”

“would you ever leave here? i mean, you’re getting so much stronger, any plans for marriage or if your friend-

“oh my dear brother, i told you, i am on your side, through thick and thin,” you reached for his hand, smiling as he gave it a light squeeze.

“good”

♡︎ obito uchiha

— it was always just the two of you, even when your grandmother took you both in. when she passed away, it was just as it was before

— he becomes a shinobi, but wants you to live a normal life. everything is fine until you receive news that obito is dead

— for months, you’re grieving, kakashi stopping by, when he can, until one night obito returns. he’s here to take you away from this village. naturally you go with him, he’s all you have after all

— over the years, obito gets even stronger and you are suspicious of his line of work, but you don’t question it because he has never changed the way that he treated you

— he has always encouraged you to chase your dreams, despite being unable to fulfill his own. you want to open a small cafe, he is doing everything in his power to make that happen

— you find him very annoying as tobi. he explained partially why he had to wear a disguise, but you hated how he acted. so goofy and unserious, you preferred the very serious obito, you could come to about anything

— he’s very protective, he doesn’t want the world to hurt you, like it did to him

— please don’t date, you’re just a kid to him in his eyes. he will whine and nag about how you’re too young, no matter how old you get. he just wants you to be content being his baby sister, although, he knows it’s selfish

— 8.7/10.despite being the sibling of a criminal, he does a very good job at concealing that life from you, continuing to love you as hard as before. after his death, kakashi finds you personally explaining everything and how in the end, obito had a change of heart. which makes you smile because you always knew what kind of person he was on the inside

entering the small cafe, in a unusual disguise, his eyes widened, seeing itachi uchiha, sitting at a table, eating dango. he watched as you approached him with another small plate.

“hi sir, these are on the house”

“i couldn’t”

“i insist, you’re one of my regulars and i am appreciative,” you blushed as he thanked you, accepting the plate. walking back to the counter, you tried biting back your smile.

“have you decided what you want sir?” you asked, nodding as he shook his head. he stood waiting, watching as you blushed, repeatedly glancing at itachi. he was too old for you. well, he actually wasn’t, you were a few years older, but still.

hearing the chair pull out, you glanced over, bowing and thanking him for coming, before you went to get the plates. with the cafe now empty, he removed his disguise.

“obito?” you widened your eyes at him, as you walked to the small kitchen, as he followed you.

“you are attracted to that man”

“you make it sound like something weird. he’s nice and really cute. he looks like he could be a uchiha too,” you blushed, making him roll his eyes.

“he could be a mass murder for all you know, and why are you giving him free dango? you need all the money you can get,” he told you, crossing his arms.

“he likes dango, and he always leaves extra money. if you were upset about that dear brother, i can make you a batch of dango,” you began to walk away, when he reached for you arm.

“just wait until i am dead to date anyone, it stresses me out too much to know my baby sister is growing to longer be a baby any more, it hurts me,” he said, making you hug him.

“aww obito, i have no plans on dating right now, not when i have a business to run and i said he was cute, not that i wanted to marry him. also, i’ll always be your baby sister, no matter how old we get,” you said, smiling as his tense body relaxed at your words.

♡︎ sasuke uchiha

— probably the most normal out of the group

— itachi kills the clan and leaves the two of you alive

— despite his wild emotions, he tries his best to maintain normality with you. joking around, piggyback rides, making treats together

— younger sasuke is convinced you both are better than everyone else and when he’s free, he teaches you a few things he learned from kakashi

— early on, he kind of expects you to stay under his wing. kids are asking you to play with them, he’ll say let’s leave and kind of expects you to come with him. he can’t risk losing you too

— he is super protective, he doesn’t even like if someone implies something distasteful about you, however, it changes as he changes

— when he leaves the hidden leaf, he leaves you, telling you to let go, as you hold onto him, crying begging him to stay, or at least take you with him, he says no and reassures you that you can go to sakura or kakashi for anything

— while he may have had a problem with you having a crush as a child, by the time you are teenagers, he doesn’t care anymore because he has more important things to worry about

— once he is on his road to redemption, he feels guilty about how he was towards you. he was so focused on getting revenge, that he neglected his last relative alive

— 9/10. he has made mistakes in his life, but despite what he thinks, he has been a great brother. with a bit of reassurance, you can restore your bond

slipping on your shoes, just as you opened the door, you were surprised to see sasuke, his hand up about to knock.

“sasuke, when did you get back?” you said, as his shoulders relaxed.

“this morning, i was with sarada,” he explained.

“did you get to see her in action, she wants to be hokage, doesn’t that remind you of someone?” you smirked.

“yes,” he agreed.

“would you like to join me for lunch? i’m having onigiri,” you asked, as his cheeks reddened, shyly nodding his head.

“how-how have you been?” he asked, turning his head.

“i’m okay, i spend my weekends with sakura and sarada and my b-friend,” you stuttered, catching his attention.

“a friend from the academy?”

“no, he’s from another village,” you shook your head.

“he? how long have you been friends with him?”

“well, we’ve been together for about four months-

“together?”

“he's-he is my boyfriend, i wanted to let you meet him, to make sure he was sasuke approved, but i wasn't sure you'd want to do such a thing”

“i-i don't mind y/n, is my opinion important to you?”

“of course, it is, if my dear brother thinks he is terrible, then i have my answer because you're the coolest guy i know,” you said, lightly bumping his shoulder.

“then i will meet him,” he nodded.

“great, i'll tell him tomorrow, try not to scare him too much”

“how can he be the one, if he is scared easily?”

“you have a point, so will you eat some cake with him today,” you nearly laughed at the frown appearing on his face. he hated sweets.

“don't be gross”

[aroaceleovaldez]

they cast a 28 year old for Tyson 💀

[relevant rants: here and here]

yeah, i saw - i wasn't holding onto hope of them casting a disabled actor for Tyson (still disappointed, just not surprised) but casting a 28 year old for a middle schooler is really out of left field. It's just an odd choice? Particularly given how much they've been emphasizing age-accurate casting so far.

It makes me really wonder what major rewrites they have planned for Tyson's character. Because as things stand currently there's no way to make Tyson's existing character work with this casting. Tyson is supposed to be in Percy's grade, but Daniel Diemer sticks out like a sore thumb against the child actors. Tyson being in Percy's grade is pretty important for the entire arc of Sea of Monsters with the main character arc being Percy combating internalized ableism and establishing him as a character who stands up for other marginalized kids. If they remove that, what's Percy's arc going to be for that entire season? At what point are they going to establish that about his character? Or are they just going to exposition it at us like usual with nothing backing it up and no actual character progression? And in later seasons the age gap is only going to be more prominent - like how is Tyson going to work in BoTL or TLO? Are they planning on removing his character entirely for those scenes? Are they going to remove him as a recurring character in general? It'd be really weird if they killed him off or something.

I'm also afraid for if they do try to keep Tyson's disability coding in some form - cause there's kind of no good way it can go at this point. Either they completely erase Tyson's coding because they cast an abled actor for him and that messes up the entire arc of the book and his character particularly in relation to Percy, or they have an abled actor attempt to portray a character heavily coded as having down syndrome (and i believe they're already doing similar with iirc Chiron's actor is abled but they're doubling-down in the show on Chiron being disabled) and given how they've written the neurodivergence themes (or absence there of) in the show so far there's just no way that'd end well. Like, Tyson's characterization is a little questionable to begin with in the books, but given the show's writing so far it just feels like we're very rapidly ramping up for an extremely ableist characterization of Tyson. Like i'm sure Daniel Diemer is a great actor, but... i'm just getting real tired of the show erasing the entire premise of the series :T

anyways as per my initial post about pjo tv tyson casting theories i guess it's time for me to start tearing stuff apart with my teeth ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

preemptively sorry for how fucking long this is it is YOUR FAULTT THOUGH!!!! large bowl of seeds for u. it is almost 2am sorry.

SO. there are. two ways to assign the prime defenders powers etc. the first way is just, like, categorize their existing powersets within the prt framework, & the second is to give them entirely new abilities based on the way worm works. delightfully, all the powers they Do have work really well for the most part, so even that doesn't require a ton of shuffling.

categorizing their pre-existing powers:

wiwi-- breaker w/ a shaker subclass. neither of them rated very high, but that's already a rare and versatile enough combination!!

dakota-- brute babeeeey!!! brute/mover its so straightforward. hell yeah babey. i don't know what he'll end up looking like post-heart removal & stuff but my guess is that'll end up looking more like a mover/striker.

vyncent-- now THIS one gave me trouble. i... hm. to say this without talking about stuff that i don't think has come up much already, (hey!! you're at that clockblocker pov! directly related to what flechette says!) i'd call him a grab-bag cape, irt the greats at least. post-greats-- again, i don't know what his powerset will look like after this arc! but if he's going all in w/ the fire magic, that would for sure be some striker shit! :]]]

giving them new powers... man i'm reining myself in so hard from five more paragraphs on Why exactly i'm saying all this.

wiwi still breaker for sure, maybe breaker-master, maybe master-stranger. yknow. powers are fluid, the prt categories are pretty rigid. i... don't know. enough about his situation yet to be clearer than that vague idea yet-- i really like the idea of him just. ditching his body & using a noncorporeal form but he still has to keep an eye on his body i think that's great. the noncorporeal form would b able to change its visibility but still b limited by proximity to the body. & fluctuating energy shit powered by fluctuating amounts of recent-death in the area, maybe probably also limited in that it's only accessible in his breaker form.... also i think u will appreciate this style note from the [UNNAMED PARAHUMANS TTRPG] i'm referencing a lot here.

dakota--in this situation he probably would not. have that mechanical heart and shit. he' would still be a mover/thinker-- thinker rating is for faster mental processing + senses imminent pain for the people in his immediate vicinity. not danger, just pain; it immediately registers ambiently & can be generally traced back to whoever it is. no he can't turn it off ever, it manifests as feeling a similar level of pain, yes it works on himself. + mover-- he can fucking fly. no super strength, just very fast flight & the general "won't splat himself flying into something" capabilities, which meshes well w/ the faster processing & reflexes. i'm split on how exactly this would work mechanically but i will NOT go into that now. i am also not going into the 15k discussion in my brain on why dakota 'notoriously bad at thinking about things' cole would be a thinker but u gotta trust the process ok??

vyncent-- trump!!!! somehow this is the only straightforward one to me? he can copy powers at the full strength or ability level of the original for an unspecified amount of time that's usually 1-30 minutes by touching the cape. crucially, he doesn't have any edge on how to use these powers + can easily misuse or become extremely overwhelmed by them. he's easily the most powerful out of the three of them <33

ashe-- ashe is NOT HERE currently and also it's 1:30 am so i gotta go fucking sleep soon BUT they would be a master. easy. :o) they can make some lil guys n do stuff with them!!!!

in general these are pretty fucking cracked abilities, all of them would b oosely above a seven or so in a number rating once they're really settled in their powers-- this is mostly because i'm assuming that they would still be heirs-apparent to the prime force equivalent, which would b the triumvirate :]] anyway. good lord. this is like the cliff notes edition of what i've been thinking and scribbling in the notes app for the past several hours. sorry if it's fucking incomprehensible. gn!!! <333

AAAAAH FUCK YESSSSSS OKAY OKAY OKAY my response is probably going to be equally as long. so it's fine. oooouh buddy.

I KNOW WHAT BREAKER MEANS NOW !!! I dontttt think ive learned shaker yet. breaker is like.... breaking the laws of physics/shifting planes or whatever. PERFECT for william hell yes. for putting them actually in worm world ... ughhhh breaker/master william is REALLY cool. I havwnt learned stranger yet but i think he would develop a complex over being classified as stranger <3 (like how weld doesn't like that he's classified as a brute even though that's not exactly what it means, he just doesn't like the word) . GODDDD just thinking abt putting pd boys in worm is fucking me up haven't they been through enough. I want to see them all in a fit of despair. william ditching his body is SO good I miss when he would do that, also the powers being limited by how far away he is AND THE AMOUNT OF RECENT DEATH IN THE AREA. holy shit. that's so fucking good . im sure he would not overthink at all the fact that he is stronger when more people around him have died . I'm sure he'd do awesome in the leviathan fight for sure for sure .

DAKOTA BRUTE <3 DAKOTA BRUTE/MOVER I LOVE THIS A LOTTTTTT hellbyes. awesome. it's so perfect for him <3 worm world I'm SURPRISED u didn't stick with brute for him. eyes emoji. I trust your judgement but now i am Thinking... Hmm..... YOU BRING INTO QUESTION something I have been thinking about. and I'm going to probably get derailed a little here but stay with me. how the way powers manifest directly relate to the trigger event. because for a WHILE before we learned taylors I was like "OH i bet the powers are going to be directly related to what traumatic thing happened to them" and then we learn about taylor and grue and a couple more and I kind of lost that theory because while you can. technically draw relations between their powers and their events it seemed like too much of a stretch to do . HOWEVER now my thinking has changed AGAIN and I think the powers ARE related to specific trigger events but it's not as straightforward as "oh something scary happened to you with bugs so now you have bug powers" I think it's gonna be more complicated than that. WHICH. THE WAY THIS RELATES. BACK ON TOPIC NOW. to DAKOTA . assuming his trigger event is still he and katori falling off the building I think it's AWESOME that his powers would manifest as FLIGHT for one. and the fucking. pain sense thing. fuck me up. dakota extreme hero complex cole would be so fucked up by a power where he ambiently senses pain from the people around him at all times and cannot turn it off. I'm sure he would feel so normal about being around william chronic pain wisp 24/7. also I can SO CLEARLY imagine how this power specifically would lead to him getting super overwhelmed in chaotic situations like he does in canon. and just fucking. bolt out of there because it's too much. again. he'd have such a wonderful time in the leviathan fight

I AM AT CLOCKBLOCKER POV !!!! actually technically I'm on kid win pov now but I haven't finished his chapter yet. vyncent grab bag cape..... yeah... I think it would be EXTREMELY funny imagining the PRT in pd world trying 2 classify vyncent like. what the fuck does this kid do . what do we do with him. hes got other guys in his head that give him powers. is he a master??? no he can't fucking control them. is he a striker??? only SOMETIMES. is he a blaster?? AGAIN ONLY SOMETIMES. cannot classify him bitch!!!!!!!! giving him worm powers though.. UGH. being able to touch someone and COMPLETELY copy their powers but only for a short period of time???? I fucking love that a lot. he WOULD be the most powerful out of them!!! I can hear taylors inner analysis dialogue about him now and it's very similar to the clockblocker "DONT LET HIM.TOUCH YOU" panic. loooove imagining this playing off of the rest of pd,,, i know there was AT LEAST one time where he had william sort of transfer some of his ghost powers for a minute? I think it was during the lich fight in the theatre but i just remember vycnent floating and going intangible and NOT KNOWING how to control it or anything. loveeee that. in world dynamics I feel like vyncent would be a late addition to their team (instead of coming from another world maybe he just. had his trigger event happen way later than the other two..or something.) and not trusting them as much at first/being REALLY shaky using either of their powers but after a while being really comfortable in a fight with using either Williams or dakotas powers in a fight. Just like. imagining the fluidity of how they'd work together in a tense situation assuming they're not being complete dumbasses <3333 UGH it's really good

AAAASHE ASHE ASHE IM SOOO SO GLAD YOU INCLUDED ASHE IN THIS I miss him.so much every day. from what I know so far master involves having/making/controlling some sort of minion (cannot think of a better word than that rn) AND I THINK THATS REALLYYYY perfect for ashe. i assume he would actually work pretty closely to canon in that his limitation would be the book? or if he doesn't have the book maybe his limitation would be a) having only a few different types of things he could summon (the big hand, the water fairy, duck etc) and/or b) only being able to control them.for a short amount of time after they're summoned so he has to be quick about dismissing them. can't keep the demon hand around for too long or it might start picking things up and throwing them at random. putting teammates in danger bc he can't control it anymore etc etc. alsooooooo in clockblocker pov they VERY briefly mentioned the possibility of having secondary trigger events (?!!!!?!?!) and you know I locked onto that SO FUCKING HARD. ashe being born with powers and then his secondary trigger event being his mom's death <3 im.NOT even going to attempt to talk about how the trickster would work in worm world/if it would even exist in this setting bc i don't know enough about the types of powers and things yet..but just know. I am keeping this in the back of my mind "this is a fun surprise tool that will help us later" style

[the-acid-pear]

A good chunk of my dream today was spent on a bus traveling with my dad where after a very long while of being annoyed by an old woman an old classmate whose face and voice i remember but his name i don't encouraged me to tell her, and tell her i did. At first i started speaking formally but by the end I snapped and i was straight up screaming about how she's annoying and i hate to see her face every time i get on this goddamn bus and it was time someone told her these things. There wasn't a reaction from anyone because i was waking up tho so the dream fell apart before my own eyes.

[livvyofthelake]

that was a lie my parents won’t ruin THIS episode by coming home. unfortunately i will probably watch a third episode

[autistichalsin]

In retrospect, four years later, I feel like the Isabel Fall incident was just the biggest ignored cautionary tale modern fandom spaces have ever had. Yes, it wasn't limited to fandom, it was also a professional author/booktok type argument, but it had a lot of crossover.

Stop me if you've heard this one before: a writer, whether fan or pro, publishes a work. If one were to judge a book by its cover, something we are all taught in Kindergarten shouldn't happen but has a way of occurring regardless, one might find that there was something that seemed deeply problematic about this work. Maybe the title or summary alluded to something Wrong happening, or maybe the tags indicated there was problematic kinks or relationships. And that meant the story was Bad. So, a group of people takes to the Twittersphere to inform everyone who will listen why the work, and therefore the author, are Bad. The author, receiving an avalanche of abuse and harassment, deactivates their account, and checks into a mental health facility for monitoring for suicidal ideation. They never return to their writing space, and the harassers get a slap on the wrist (if that- usually they get praise and high-fives all around) and start waiting for their next victim to transgress.

Sounds awful familiar, doesn't it?

Isabel Fall's case, though, was even more extreme for many reasons. See, she made the terrible mistake of using a transphobic meme as the genesis to actually explore issues of gender identity.

More specifically, she used the phrase "I sexually identify as an attack helicopter" to examine how marginalized identities, when they become more accepted, become nothing more than a tool for the military-industrial complex to rebrand itself as a more personable and inclusive atrocity; a chance to pursue praise for bombing brown children while being progressive, because queer people, too, can help blow up brown children now! It also contained an examination of identity and how queerness is intrinsic to a person, etc.

But... well, if harassers ever bothered to read the things they critique, we wouldn't be here, would we? So instead, they called Isabel a transphobic monster for the title alone, even starting a misinformation campaign to claim she was, in fact, a cis male nazi using a fake identity to psyop the queer community.

A few days later, after days of horrific abuse and harassment, Isabel requested that Clarkesworld magazine pull the story. She checked in to a psych ward with suicidal thoughts. That wasn't all, though; the harassment was so bad that she was forced to out herself as trans to defend against the claims.

Only... we know this type of person, the fandom harassers, don't we? You know where this is going. Outing herself did nothing to stop the harassment. No one was willing to read the book, much less examine how her sexuality and gender might have influenced her when writing it.

So some time later, Isabel deleted her social media. She is still alive, but "Isabel Fall" is not- because the harassment was so bad that Isabel detransitioned/closeted herself, too traumatized to continue living her authentic life.

Supposed trans allies were so outraged at a fictional portrayal of transness, written by a trans woman, that they harassed a real life trans woman into detransitioning.

It's heartbreakingly familiar, isn't it? Many of us in fandom communities have been in Isabel's shoes, even if the outcome wasn't so extreme (or in some cases, when it truly was). Most especially, many of us, as marginalized writers speaking from our own experiences in some way, have found that others did not enjoy our framework for examining these things, and hurt us, members of those identities, in defense of "the community" as a nebulous undefined entity.

There's a quote that was posted in a news writeup about the whole saga that was published a year after the fact. The quote is:

The delineation between paranoid and reparative readings originated in 1995, with influential critic Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick. A paranoid reading focuses on what’s wrong or problematic about a work of art. A reparative reading seeks out what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art, even if the work is flawed. Importantly, a reparative reading also tends to consider what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art for someone who isn’t the reader. This kind of nuance gets completely worn away on Twitter, home of paranoid readings. “[You might tweet], ‘Well, they didn’t discuss X, Y, or Z, so that’s bad!’ Or, ‘They didn’t’ — in this case — ‘discuss transness in a way that felt like what I feel about transness, therefore it is bad.’ That flattens everything into this very individual, very hostile way of reading,” Mandelo says. “Part of reparative reading is trying to think about how a story cannot do everything. Nothing can do everything. If you’re reading every text, fiction, or criticism looking for it to tick a bunch of boxes — like if it represents X, Y, and Z appropriately to my definitions of appropriate, and if it’s missing any of those things, it’s not good — you’re not really seeing the close focus that it has on something else.”

A paranoid reading describes perfectly what fandom culture has become in the modern times. It is why "proship", once simply a word for common sense "don't engage with what you don't like, and don't harass people who create it either" philosophies, has become the boogeyman of fandom, a bad and dangerous word. The days of reparative readings, where you would look for things you enjoyed, are all but dead. Fiction is rarely a chance to feel joy; it's an excuse to get angry, to vitriolically attack those different from oneself while surrounded with those who are the same as oneself. It's an excuse to form in-groups and out-groups that must necessarily be in a constant state of conflict, lest it come across like This side is accepting That side's faults. In other words, fandom has become the exact sort of space as the nonfandom spaces it used to seek to define itself against.

It's not about joy. It's not about resonance with plot or characters. It's about hate. It's about finding fault. If they can't find any in the story, they will, rest assured, create it by instigating fan wars- dividing fandom into factions and mercilessly attacking the other.

And that's if they even went so far as to read the work they're critiquing. The ones they don't bother to read, as you saw above, fare even worse. If an AO3 writer tagged an abuser/victim ship, it's bad, it's fetishism, even if the story is about how the victim escapes. If a trans writer uses the title "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter" to find a framework to dissect rainbow-washing the military-industrial complex, it's unforgivable. It's a cesspool of kneejerk reactions, moralizing discomfort, treating good/evil as dichotomous categories that can never be escaped, and using that complex as an excuse to heap harassment on people who "deserve it." Because once you are Bad, there is no action against you that is too Bad for you to deserve.

Isabel Fall's story follows this so step-by-step that it's like a textbook case study on modern fandom behavior.

Isabel Fall wrote a short story with an inflammatory title, with a genesis in transphobic mockery, in the hopes of turning it into a genuine treatise on the intersection of gender and sexuality and the military-industrial complex. But because audiences are unprepared for the idea of inflammatory rhetoric as a tool to force discomfort to then force deeper introspection... they zeroed in on the discomfort. "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter"- the title phrase, not the work- made them uncomfortable. We no longer teach people how to handle discomfort; we live in a world of euphemism and glossing over, a world where people can't even type out the words "kill" and rape", instead substituting "unalive" and "grape." We don't deal with uncomfortable feelings anymore; we censor them, we transform them, we sanitize them. When you are unable to process discomfort, when you are never given self-soothing tools, your only possible conclusion is that anything Uncomfortable must be Bad, and the creator must either be censored too, or attacked into conformity so that you never again experience the horrors of being Uncomfortable.

So the masses took to Twitter, outraged. They were Uncomfortable, and that de facto meant that they had been Wronged. Because the content was related to trans identity issues, that became the accusation; it was transphobic, inherently. It couldn't be a critique of bigger and more fluid systems than gender identity alone; it was a slight against trans people. And no amount of explanations would change their minds now, because they had already been aggrieved and made to feel Uncomfortable.

Isabel Fall was now a Bad Person, and we all know what fandom spaces do to Bad People. Bad People, because they are Bad, will always be deserving of suicide bait and namecalling and threatening. Once a person is Bad, there is no way to ever become Good again. Not by refuting the accusations (because the accusations are now self-evident facts; "there is a callout thread against them" is its own tautological proof that wrongdoing has happened regardless of the veracity of the claims in the callout) and not by apologizing and changing, because if you apologize and admit you did the Bad thing, you are still Bad, and no matter what you do in future, you were once Bad and that needs to be brought up every time you are mentioned. If you are bad, you can NEVER be more than what you were at your worst (in their definition) moment. Your are now ontologically evil, and there is no action taken against you that can be immoral.

So Isabel was doomed, naturally. It didn't matter that she outed herself to explain that she personally had lived the experience of a trans woman and could speak with authority on the atrocity of rainbow-washing the military industrial complex as a proaganda tool to capture progressives. None of it mattered. She had written a work with an Uncomfortable phrase for a title, the readers were Uncomfortable, and someone had to pay for it.

And that's the key; pay for it. Punishment. Revenge. It's never about correcting behavior. Restorative justice is not in this group's vocabulary. You will, incidentally, never find one of these folks have a stance against the death penalty; if you did Bad as a verb, you are Bad as an intrinsic, inescapable adjective, and what can you do to incorrigible people but kill them to save the Normal people? This is the same principle, on a smaller scale, that underscores their fandom activities; if a Bad fan writes Bad fiction, they are a Bad person, and their fandom persona needs to die to save Normal fans the pain of feeling Uncomfortable.

And that's what happened to Isabel Fall. The person who wrote the short story is very much alive, but the pseudonym of Isabel Fall, the identity, the lived experiences coming together in concert with imagination to form a speculative work to critique deeply problematic sociopolitical structures? That is dead. Isabel Fall will never write again, even if by some miracle the person who once used the name does. Even if she ever decides to restart her transition, she will be permanently scarred by this experience, and will never again be able to share her experience with us as a way to grow our own empathy and challenge our understanding of the world. In spirit, but not body, fandom spaces murdered Isabel Fall.

And that's... fandom, anymore. That's just what is done, routinely and without question, to Bad people. Good people are Good, so they don't make mistakes, and they never go too far when dealing with Bad people. And Bad people, well, they should have thought before they did something Bad which made them Bad people.

Isabel Fall's harassment happened in early 2020, before quarantine started, but it was in so many ways a final chance for fandom to hit the breaks. A chance for fandom to think collectively about what it wanted to be, who it wanted to be for and how it wanted to do it. And fandom looked at this and said, "more, please." It continues to harass marginalized people, especially fans of color and queen fans, into suffering mental breakdowns. With gusto.

Any ideas of reparative reading is dead. Fandom runs solely on paranoid readings. And so too is restorative justice gone for fandom transgressions, real or imagined. It is now solely about punitive, vigilante justice. It's a concerted campaign to make sure oddballs conform or die (in spirit, but sometimes even physically given how often mentally ill individuals are pushed into committing suicide).

It's a deeply toxic environment and I'm sad to say that Isabel Fall's story was, in retrospect, a sort of event horizon for the fandom. The gravitational pull of these harassment campaigns is entirely too strong now and there is no escaping it. I'm sorry, I hate to say something so bleak, but thinking the last few days about the state of fandom (not just my current one but also others I watch from the outside), I just don't think we can ever go back to peaceful "for joy" engagement, not when so many people are determined to use it as an outlet for lateral aggression against other people.